[Fic] Fall from Grace - 2/9
Title: Fall from Grace
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: R eventually (language, sexual situations)
Pairings: Siwon/Hankyung and Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Genre: AU, historical, romance
Summary: Abducted from the people he protects, Prince Han Geng vanishes, lost to men who care nothing for his safety. It is Siwon, a loyal soldier, who is tasked with bringing him back alive.
And while the search continues to save a life, Kyuhyun must find a way to ally himself with his future queen's steward - to overcome mistrust and join two countries.
***
It seemed he was born with the knowledge that his lot in life was to be king. On most days it was not something he had regret for. But it was a position that never went away, no matter where he was, or what he was doing. He regretted that his father had died so young, a tragic riding accident. He regretted that his uncle had ignored Han Geng, or was too hard on him by turn, to focus on training him. It was a miracle Han Geng had not come out of those years hating him, for being older, for being more “important” in his uncle’s eyes. However, to their mother, they were equal. The minutes that separated their birth were only the space between breaths to her. It was one of his earliest memories, knowing Han Geng was beside him, with him always, and hearing her whisper, feeling her lips against his cheek.
If his country was the world he revolved around, Han Geng and their mother were the lights that illuminated it.
When he had reached his majority, he had known his uncle had arranged for him a suitable wife. He had taken a trip two years before to meet the girl’s family, strictly out of courtesy. She had seen him more than he had seen her, that was for certain. And the only time he had seen her had been an accidental crossing of their paths. He really didn’t have any recollection of her at all, save for wide eyes. Han Geng had all but quizzed his shirt off when he had returned. She hadn’t been ugly that he knew of, was all he could tell him. What more was there?
Her parents had been shrewd, dragging out their alliance. Making him wait two years to wed. He was not marrying a princess, just a rich man’s daughter. And with a brother, the need for heirs was not pressing to his mind. It still wasn’t. His brother was alive, somewhere. There was nothing left to think about. At least... Until his steward was admitted, Kyuhyun who looked uncharacteristically rattled as he rose from his cursory bow.
“Your Majesty... There is an advance runner at the gate. It seems...your bride is coming.”
Han Jun blinked up at Kyuhyun, unsure if he had heard correctly. “My...bride?”
“The lady and the lady’s family are behind him. He says they should arrive with the morning’s light. I have servants preparing for their coming as we speak.”
It was...short notice. As evidenced by Kyuhyun’s tone, as though the morning would happen in the next five minutes. Kyuhyun needed time to prepare the castle... And he needed time to prepare himself. In fact, there could be no worse time for them to come.
He longed for Han Geng’s presence again. If he were here, he would be Han Jun’s advance person. Charming the parents, finding out information. Speaking to him of the girl’s looks, her character. Han Geng who was unfailingly kind on most matters, and vocal about what he considered good enough for his brother. Han Geng might have shared his face, but to look at his brother was to see someone quite different indeed. Still, he wondered. Would he need her, too, one day? With the same dependence he had on his brother?
He didn’t know her, and he was going to make this girl his queen.
“They come with servants. Her personal servants of course, but others as well. I was told there is a man who has run the household affairs for her, and will stay with her after the marriage. They want him to be her...advocate.”
“Will I starve her?” Han Jun wondered out loud.
Kyuhyun visibly swallowed a laugh. “Only you can say, Your Majesty.”
“Their timing is a little convenient,” he mused, a thought trickling into him. “Their lands fall in the northern kingdom, where Prince Han Geng was taken. Still, if one was wishing to get in unnoticed, becoming one of a wedding party would be one way. I assume it would be farfetched to believe that they would be involved somehow. But it can’t be ignored, can it?”
“We may learn more on their arrival,” Kyuhyun said in the soul of tact.
“Indeed. Perhaps it is good they bring servants. That may be where we find our information. This man they bring to be her advocate... It sounds like he possesses skills that you do as well. Keep him close and learn what you can. If all is as it should be, he should stay on overseeing the needs of her staff, but I think also working with you. You do more than well, but a helping hand may save you from an early grave.”
It was pride and years of training that kept Kyuhyun’s face from betraying what Han Jun was sure he must be feeling. To bring an outsider to help do his tasks... Still, there was great trust there as well. He knew Kyuhyun and his work, knew that if there was something to be learned, Kyuhyun would find it.
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
Of course, it was no great luck to keep talented men on to serve him, but luck had been in finding them. And a little pat on his own back for having the foresight to choose them. But that was something else entirely.
He had one night, and no more. His face tightened into an almost smile. Now...He had to tell his mother that her future daughter-in-law was all but arriving at their gates.
***
It was an official welcome. He did not go out to greet the party, forced instead to watch from a wood-guarded window as the supply wagon rattled into the yard, and the more cleverly built carriages that held the women. Kyuhyun was there, greeting the girl’s father with a low bow. Organizing servants to help. A tall man was there, giving orders to their own servants until the flurry had ceased. And two maids emerged from the carriage.
Of course he was curious... His stomach was tight with anxiety. Yes, this was something he had acknowledged would happen. And yes, he knew and anticipated his duty. But the timing... He had so much to do, and was already burdened with his brother’s absence.
A graying head emerged next. The lady’s mother. A maid reached and a pale hand extended, a dark head emerging into the watery morning light. Her form was pleasing at least, he mused. And shrank back a step as she lifted her face to see the castle she would be calling home. Dark eyes. The same impression he had gotten before.
He turned, knowing once they had dusted the debris from their clothes, the next place they would come was the throne room. For a king, he supposed there was no more official reason than welcoming his bride.
***
As someone who served at the king’s side day by day, Kyuhyun knew when his ruler was anxious. He didn’t show it overtly, twitches or nervous blinking. Rather he showed it in extreme stillness, as though any little movement would give him away. The king he knew was quite a bit more natural than the frozen person who bid his guests to rise. The parents were unexceptional. Wealthy landowners. They had bartered their daughter to a queen’s title with land and riches, the king’s uncle securing her as a bride for his nephew.
The land was under someone else’s purview. But the riches, wagons full of them, only some of which had arrived, were his domain as soon as the audience was over. All sorts of excuses as to their unexpected arrival, and no claim of knowledge to the prince’s disappearance. They actually seemed quite shocked to hear it. Even the girl. He had wondered how willing she was, and had gotten somewhat of an answer. As she had alighted from her carriage, he had been close enough to hear her hiss to her maid, “But I do not wish to marry him!”
In a brief flash of clarity, he realized he was glad he hadn’t been born a woman.
He was the soul of discretion, but he did not envy his king at all. He had the freedom of actually investigating the three, who knelt first and then rose. The girl was pretty enough, big eyes, long hair. And she was silent and respectful as her father accepted the king’s greetings, and definitely not looking at the man she was to marry. For some reason he felt that was defiance, and not a lack of curiosity or an excess of modesty.
His eye was caught at the back of the room. The tall steward of the girl’s household that had been brought with them. The one he was saddled with stretching out into eternity. Of course, that would change if the man was incompetent. Not even His Majesty would force someone used to managing two servants into his well ordered world for long if that was the case.
As the travelers were sent to their rest, officially welcomed, Kyuhyun went to the king’s side.
“I felt they spoke the truth,” King Han Jun said, speaking of their lack of knowledge of his brother. “You’ll look after their things?”
“Yes, I’ll find their steward and see if there’s anything they require as well, Your Majesty.”
He received a smile of acknowledgement, which was high praise in such a frenetic time.
He had no problem finding the steward. Zhou Mi.
***
The dust of the abandoned hallway billowed under Kyuhyun’s booted feet, and he resisted the urge to sneeze. The stone corridor had been built before his father’s birth, or even his father’s father. A portion of the castle that was empty, used mainly for storage or for moving servants into during the times envoys had come with more people than the main wings could contain. But there hadn’t been envoys like that in many years. And the king’s bride had come with some small amount of servants, servants he had been told were to stay long after the marriage, potentially forever. And she had brought with her one of her father’s most trusted advisor, as some sort of overseer, a guarantee that she was being looked after in their “barbaric” lands. As though the king beat innocent women. Though, with the sharp tongue he’d been exposed to, even the saintliest of men might be tempted.
But that advisor, the one his king had said was his equal. The one who was to come directly to Kyuhyun with the woman’s (she wasn’t his queen yet) problems... At least he wasn’t given direct access to the king. This Zhou Mi. His clothes made him appear taller than he actually was. Did they feed him? Clearly at some point, because those legs went on for miles. And he’d had time to investigate, because the man’s lungs also seemed to go on forever, as he talked about goodwill and partnership and love for all countries and Kyuhyun didn’t know what else. He’d drifted into a daze somewhere between the sickly sweet offer to work together and the explanation of the home he had come from.
That wasn’t his biggest problem. If the king was obligated to show some trust to his bride, and her servants, it was Kyuhyun’s place to be his eyes and ears for any sign of deceit. They had shared no more than a look that had let Kyuhyun know to be alert. They knew who it was who had abducted Prince Han Geng, and it was the land of the lady’s birth. If there was danger from inside of her little traveling party, her father’s men, then Kyuhyun needed to find out, and quickly. They could not be allowed access to sensitive information, much less to the king himself. If they had designs on the castle from the inside, then if Kyuhyun lacked the sword skills to fight them off, he damn well possessed the brains to discover the treachery.
“Later, I thought we could discuss the dowry...” Zhou Mi began, trotting close at Kyuhyun’s side. Trotting wasn’t quite the word... He had a long stride that a man of his height should have, which meant he could outpace Kyuhyun if he so chose. And that irked him.
“Yes, let’s leave the dowry for later,” he ground out. It didn’t help that as he answered to the king, it was his place to be involved in every little detail of the woman’s arrival, from her hair cap to her calfskin slippers. And the dowry was no small thing, as she had arrived with wagons of various oddities. And he had to inventory it all, with the smiling jester at his side.
Which explained why he was in the old section of the castle. The lady’s prize spinning wheel had broken on their journey, crushed just for Kyuhyun’s benefit he was sure. And none of the newer ones currently in use would do.
The king would have found himself an industrious bride.
All the old machinery was housed here. In the dust. He made a mental note that the whole of the section should get a thorough cleaning within the month. Chinking was scattered on the floor, and it needed care before it started becoming dangerous. It was gloomy and abandoned enough without feeling as though it was falling down.
“It feels a bit haunted here,” Zhou Mi whispered, echoing his thoughts almost exactly. But the quiet voice made his heart leap in shock.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mocked. “You think some ghost will come floating through a wall? It’s just an old section of the house.”
“It just feels... I wouldn’t want to walk down here at night, alone,” Zhou Mi amended.
“Then I can see why your position is to look after a woman.”
The noise Zhou Mi made was amused, and not offended at all. “She will make a good queen. She’s very smart, and while she has a temper, her heart is soft. She likes to be busy, and doesn’t even quail at insects...”
It was ironic at that point in his speech, Zhou Mi shuddered, nearly bowling Kyuhyun over as he escaped a dangling web.
“You don’t have to sell her to me,” Kyuhyun said, counting doors now that they were close. “She’ll have my loyalty as is demanded.”
“I think she’d like your respect,” Zhou Mi said, prodding him a little with his words.
“That’s harder won,” he retorted, and pushed open the barred door.
“Perhaps after your prince is returned you’ll believe that we had nothing to do with his disappearance. We did not learn of it until we were on your lands. My lord wants only an allegiance, and this marriage is profitable for him. Her younger sister will find a good match based on the advantageousness of this match. We have no need for treason.”
“You’ve told us all of that already,” Kyuhyun said, having let the speech go on as he searched for the right corner of the room. “So we have what we have. Now, which spinning wheel would your lady prefer?”
He could see her in her room humming, spinning the wheel until eyes started to roll back. But as Zhou Mi smiled beatifically at him, as though he had just been given a compliment or a boon, he snuffed the mental image of tying Zhou Mi’s body in a bow, fixing him to the wheel, and watching him spin as well.
“This one is wonderful,” Zhou Mi said, using a fingertip to scrape off a layer of dust. “It’s in good condition. Quite like the one that was broken. Thank you.”
“Anything for our queen to be.”
He realized then, that when the marriage occurred, Zhou Mi’s loyalty would be sworn also to the king. He would not be an outsider, but one of them.
Zhou Mi smiled as he bundled the bulky furniture into his arms, getting dust all over his pristine clothes. “I hope we will be good allies and friends,” he said, offering something Kyuhyun hadn’t even considered or asked for. Friends? It would take far more than a wedding to make him forget where the man was from.
“Should the world last that long,” he bit out, and turned from Zhou Mi’s querying smile.
***
It was dark when they arrived at their destination, and the waxing moon showed only the outline of the fortress, wreathed in shadows. Han Geng’s legs nearly did not hold him as they pushed him ahead of them through gates, down stairs, down a corridor. Who could find him here? Held in some location. Perhaps it wasn’t the last place, perhaps they would move on... But he felt sure that that was not the case. The room they pushed him into was to be the last place he would sleep.
A noise of undefeatable pain nearly left Han Geng’s mouth as the cords binding his wrists were undone, the muscles in his shoulders and arms screaming as he tried not to move them. But that was impossible. The man behind him shoved him forward, his hands moving out of instinct to keep himself from falling face first onto the hard-packed dirt. The pain froze him, crouched, face betraying his agony to the floor he faced, trying to breathe. The searing, throbbing pain took almost forever to abate to manageable. At least until he moved again.
For the first time he saw his raw wrists, fingers swollen and bruised, and looking quite like they belonged to someone else in the hallway’s light. But as he inhaled, the tip of one finger moved to his brain’s demand, and then another.
A heavy blanket landed on his back, causing his shoulders to spasm again.
“That should do you. Maybe someone will remember to feed you, Your Highness,” the man mocked, and closed the door behind him.
Han Geng honestly wish they would forget. Even the idea of food, much less the sight or smell, sent his stomach rollicking.
With gritted teeth, he moved his shoulders, elbows, wrists and fingers. Moved until his muscles, his head, would allow no more. As he collapsed onto his back, the room seemed to spin around him. Mostly using his legs, he got the blanket, musty but warm, half over himself. And unconsciousness claimed him.
***
His arms throbbed when he woke, but some of the tingling, stabbing pain had gone. He could move with a wince instead of a bit-back scream. Even his hands looked better, at least looking more like skin. Still his fingers were a bit clumsy as he gripped at the blanket edge. In the dimness, he saw a bowl had been put inside of the door, and half crawled, half scooted toward it. It was some kind of cold soup. He could smell that meat of some sort had touched the broth, and limp ghostly looking vegetables floated in it. But compared to the pittance he had been offered during travel, it seemed like a feast.
Surely they wouldn’t poison him now...
The salted liquid made his mouth pucker, but he managed a mouthful. And had to wait an interminable time before his stomach would allow another swallow. This time he chewed on a piece of cabbage, luxuriating in the feel of food, identifiable food, in his mouth. It took hours for him to finish the meager bowlful, and he slept in between during those hours, keeping the bowl near him as though someone would come to steal it. Perhaps they were rats, or insects. But as deeply as he slept, he never would have known.
Was it the third morning since he had been taken? The fourth? He had lost count.
That was when the screaming began. When guards passed, they would beat on the door, shouting obscenities. When food was brought, it was opporunity to use fists or feet to bruise him, often knocking over the food they brought so that most of it was lost to the ground. Fighting back only brought extra blows. They could break me like this, he realized, his burning cheek pressed to the cool dirt. The scent of it, of animals that had been kept there, the acrid scent of it, was the only familiar thing to him. His body was betraying him, stiff and sore. And his mind was in constant disbelief. He had never been beaten, not like that. Not to the point of blood. A stern hand on his bottom, or a quick hand to his face for being cheeky, but nothing... Nothing like this. None of the whippings his uncle had given him or Jun had been like this.
He tried to imagine the meadows, the feel of his horse’s mane wrapped in his hands as he gave the mare a well deserved treat. The delicate lipping of her muzzle against his palm, the jaunty spring of her colt beside her. The laughter of children as he rode into the peasant villages. The little girls that smiled shyly at him, and hugged him when he offered sweets, and the boys that looked at him with awe. The hardworking parents, who worked to the bone often for what they could get. He knew their pride, and their gratitude to see food in their children’s mouths. No child would be lost to hunger, if he was there to intercede... If the chubby babies in their mother’s arms learned the best ways to farm, to read, to do figures...
And the image of his brother was strong in his mind. Han Jun. Jun. Stately upon his throne, the man who shared a face and a spirit with him. He was glad it was Jun. And felt guilty for that gladness, because he saw what the rigors of stress did to his brother. But that was why he was there. That was why, he was absolutely sure of it, that they had been born together. He was his brother’s arm. And their mother... When he thought of them, sometimes swallowing away his feelings were not enough, and he had to swipe at dirty cheeks to remove the tears. Not such a bad idea, he supposed, when he looked at the soiled skin of his hands that had been wet by them. It was the only cleaning his face was getting. Maybe it was just pushing mud around, but... It was something. Something that gave him even a moment to smile.
He ignored the trembling in those hands as another guard beat on the door and kept him from sleep, and focused on all those things to see him through till morning.
It seemed no part of him did not hurt, as another guard retreated, having had his fun. Han Geng tried to imagine beating them all, giving back what they had done to him... But it only made him feel worse.
When the door opened again, he rolled to his side, curling his knees to his chest, hoping that less surface of his body would lead to less pain. But instead of heavy, menacing footsteps, he heard harsh, rapid breathing.
Knees hit the ground beside him. And a hoarse whisper. “Prince Han Geng... What have they done to you?”
The hand that touched his face was warm, and he followed the arm, the shoulder and neck, until he reached a face he had known most all his life. A face he had seen bathed in sweat, dark in the glow of battle, and wreathed in the most innocent, happy smiles Han Geng had ever seen. A warrior, a knight, the best he had the pleasure of knowing. The man he had imagined that Jun would send after him.
Siwon.
A chill swept down his spine. Days of waiting, praying... And he was here to take him away.
Siwon was here.
***
It was a supreme act of conceit that the heaviest guard on their important prisoner was during the nighttime. As though someone couldn’t enter during the day. He had been crouched in a hidden crawlspace for almost four hours, learning the rhythm of the guards. He carried his strategy around him, with him. And could not believe his eyes or ears when a guard entered the room. He got a glimpse of a leg that he thought was Han Geng’s as the door slid halfway shut. And there was the dull thud of flesh being hit. The little whimper of pain that was stark enough even for Siwon to hear. And to see the man deliberately kick over the bowl he had put inside the door... And laughed, pleased with himself.
Tearing the man apart with his bare hands was too good for him, Siwon thought, unaware that if the man had seen him, his clenched fists, stone face, he would have surely died of fright alone.
How dare they...
He pushed the thought aside. The guards, as heinous as they were, were not his concern. The highest point of the sun had come, and had begun to wend downwards. And that was the time Siwon wanted. Enough sunlight for them to emerge unquestioned, and not so much that he would have to ride with Han Geng, pushing him into certain exhaustion. With the bundle in his arms, he strode to the door. The hall was empty. As he knew it would be. There was no special locking mechanism, just a sliding wooden bolt, and a plank that fell across it. Simple. Impossible to open from the inside. And too easy from without.
His eyes swept the room for any dangers, until his eyes fell on the man who was curling himself into the smallest ball he could manage, like a dog who was waiting for his master’s punishment.
Prince Han Geng... For a moment, all his plans melted from his mind as he fell down beside him. And as he whispered his disbelief, “What have they done to you?” and touched the cool cheek... The eyes that searched for his face were wary, wild, not the soft expression he was used to.
And with parted, dry lips, his prince whispered his name. Just his name. Siwon... as though in reverence. As though he were the most important, best thing Han Geng had ever seen. But they had no time... Later, they would be sentimental, when it was safe.
“Let’s go,” he whispered, and Han Geng seemed to understand. He uncoiled slowly, like an old man unfurling painful limbs, but he stood. And was able to hobble with Siwon, leaning against him heavily as Siwon barred the door again. He had Han Geng crawl ahead of him in the passage, to the room he had entered in. They stayed silent a moment, just listening in case someone was there. But all was quiet.
“Go,” Siwon ordered. And Han Geng crawled out, needing Siwon’s assistance in order to stand. The arms beneath his hand seemed thinner, and Han Geng still looked at him with hunger, as he expected it was all some sort of cruel dream.
There were rumors in the outskirts around the village. Rumors Siwon didn’t need to ask about to learn of.
And for a price, one could learn anything. He knew he had a friendly smile, that men were inclined to trust him even when he was unfamiliar. Over a pint of ale, he had heard all the rumors of the village. It was on a crossroads, so there were more strangers than just Siwon that night. It worked in his favor. No one knew who the man was that was brought in bound, but when Siwon expressed interest in how the fortress was laid out, there were men willing to boast over each other, who had been there the most.
A bricklayer who had said the bottom level was haunted. A carpenter that said the old areas were full of holes and shafts. And to Siwon’s disbelieving, shocked face, they boasted more.
A coin bought his way into the city where things were sold, to the inner reaches nearest the fortress’s edge. Dressed in his best clothes, it took little more than a smile at a passing matron, offering to help her carry her load. And in front of all eyes, he walked into the fortress unseen.
He watched Han Geng warily as he braced himself on the wall. There was a sag to his posture that made this plan seem not quite as farfetched as it might originally seem.
“I’m weak,” Han Geng said, waving off Siwon’s concern, speaking again finally. They managed to get both of his feet into the long skirt, Siwon quickly fastening it. The bodice was almost too big, but Siwon laced it tight, tucking up some of the extra material to give it almost the impression of a bosom, something Han Geng obviously did not possess. Nor did he have hair long enough to pass for a woman. But Siwon had thought of that. He draped the light, large scarf over Han Geng’s head, wrapping it around Han Geng’s neck in as best an approximation as he could muster of one of the styles some married women would wear. He left it a bit long in front, to cover the contours of Han Geng’s dirty face, but all in all... Han Geng made a very poor woman, but all they needed was to fool people until they could get out.
“Are you ready?” he asked, and at Han Geng’s nod, boosted the prince through the hole in the floor above them. He pulled himself through as well, helping Han Geng to stand away from it, and covering the hole he had made with the broken boards and a folded rug.
“I will tell anyone who asked that my wife has swooned,” Siwon whispered, positioning them at the door. “So you must be still, perhaps... Perhaps moaning if we get into a tight spot.”
“I’ll do what I must,” Han Geng agreed, and allowed Siwon to lift him from his feet, laying limp in Siwon’s arms. There was little artifice in it. The outer corridor was quiet, and Siwon, with Han Geng’s help, got the door opened, and began the walk that would lead them outside. His adrenaline was high, barely seeing Han Geng’s face tucked as he was to Siwon’s shoulder. He nodded to a passing servant girl who barely gave them a second glance, and he turned down toward the kitchen entrance.
“All well?” a guard called, nearly stopping Siwon’s heart.
“My wife needs air,” Siwon said, apologetic. “Because of the babe.”
“Ah,” the guard said, understanding immediately. “Just a little further, then. I’ll walk with you. Your first child?”
“Third,” Siwon lied smoothly. “A son at home, and one lost.”
“Then my wishes for a second son.” Han Geng gave a high, breathy moan, and the guard laughed. “Looks like she’s coming ‘round.”
“Thank you and good day to you, sir.”
The guard tapped his forehead at Siwon’s smile and left them in the open courtyard. It took little more than a brisk walk to enter the stable where he had left his horse beneath the eye of a watchful, half grown boy.
“Sir, can I help your missus?”
“My wife is ill, so I will take her,” Siwon said, tossing a coin to the stable boy. “You did well, lad.”
His bags and saddle were still firmly attached, and had not appeared to have been tampered with. He got Han Geng firmly up, and settling himself behind. He couldn’t do what he wanted, to check Han Geng for injuries. But he did buy two meat pies from a street vendor as they exited the stable onto the street. Anything to look normal.
Han Geng had eaten them both by the time they had reached the end of the lane.
He felt exhilarated as he wrapped his arm around Han Geng’s waist and urged his horse into a slow trot. A man and woman on a horse drew no second looks, but he was aware of everything around him, behind him, in case Han Geng’s escape was discovered. They had successfully passed the end of the houses, into flatter land, and the rapidly approaching forest path. Once there, they would veer, zigzagging for a time to throw off any trackers.
He felt easier as his horse slid into an easy canter, leaving the open behind them.
***
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: R eventually (language, sexual situations)
Pairings: Siwon/Hankyung and Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Genre: AU, historical, romance
Summary: Abducted from the people he protects, Prince Han Geng vanishes, lost to men who care nothing for his safety. It is Siwon, a loyal soldier, who is tasked with bringing him back alive.
And while the search continues to save a life, Kyuhyun must find a way to ally himself with his future queen's steward - to overcome mistrust and join two countries.
***
It seemed he was born with the knowledge that his lot in life was to be king. On most days it was not something he had regret for. But it was a position that never went away, no matter where he was, or what he was doing. He regretted that his father had died so young, a tragic riding accident. He regretted that his uncle had ignored Han Geng, or was too hard on him by turn, to focus on training him. It was a miracle Han Geng had not come out of those years hating him, for being older, for being more “important” in his uncle’s eyes. However, to their mother, they were equal. The minutes that separated their birth were only the space between breaths to her. It was one of his earliest memories, knowing Han Geng was beside him, with him always, and hearing her whisper, feeling her lips against his cheek.
If his country was the world he revolved around, Han Geng and their mother were the lights that illuminated it.
When he had reached his majority, he had known his uncle had arranged for him a suitable wife. He had taken a trip two years before to meet the girl’s family, strictly out of courtesy. She had seen him more than he had seen her, that was for certain. And the only time he had seen her had been an accidental crossing of their paths. He really didn’t have any recollection of her at all, save for wide eyes. Han Geng had all but quizzed his shirt off when he had returned. She hadn’t been ugly that he knew of, was all he could tell him. What more was there?
Her parents had been shrewd, dragging out their alliance. Making him wait two years to wed. He was not marrying a princess, just a rich man’s daughter. And with a brother, the need for heirs was not pressing to his mind. It still wasn’t. His brother was alive, somewhere. There was nothing left to think about. At least... Until his steward was admitted, Kyuhyun who looked uncharacteristically rattled as he rose from his cursory bow.
“Your Majesty... There is an advance runner at the gate. It seems...your bride is coming.”
Han Jun blinked up at Kyuhyun, unsure if he had heard correctly. “My...bride?”
“The lady and the lady’s family are behind him. He says they should arrive with the morning’s light. I have servants preparing for their coming as we speak.”
It was...short notice. As evidenced by Kyuhyun’s tone, as though the morning would happen in the next five minutes. Kyuhyun needed time to prepare the castle... And he needed time to prepare himself. In fact, there could be no worse time for them to come.
He longed for Han Geng’s presence again. If he were here, he would be Han Jun’s advance person. Charming the parents, finding out information. Speaking to him of the girl’s looks, her character. Han Geng who was unfailingly kind on most matters, and vocal about what he considered good enough for his brother. Han Geng might have shared his face, but to look at his brother was to see someone quite different indeed. Still, he wondered. Would he need her, too, one day? With the same dependence he had on his brother?
He didn’t know her, and he was going to make this girl his queen.
“They come with servants. Her personal servants of course, but others as well. I was told there is a man who has run the household affairs for her, and will stay with her after the marriage. They want him to be her...advocate.”
“Will I starve her?” Han Jun wondered out loud.
Kyuhyun visibly swallowed a laugh. “Only you can say, Your Majesty.”
“Their timing is a little convenient,” he mused, a thought trickling into him. “Their lands fall in the northern kingdom, where Prince Han Geng was taken. Still, if one was wishing to get in unnoticed, becoming one of a wedding party would be one way. I assume it would be farfetched to believe that they would be involved somehow. But it can’t be ignored, can it?”
“We may learn more on their arrival,” Kyuhyun said in the soul of tact.
“Indeed. Perhaps it is good they bring servants. That may be where we find our information. This man they bring to be her advocate... It sounds like he possesses skills that you do as well. Keep him close and learn what you can. If all is as it should be, he should stay on overseeing the needs of her staff, but I think also working with you. You do more than well, but a helping hand may save you from an early grave.”
It was pride and years of training that kept Kyuhyun’s face from betraying what Han Jun was sure he must be feeling. To bring an outsider to help do his tasks... Still, there was great trust there as well. He knew Kyuhyun and his work, knew that if there was something to be learned, Kyuhyun would find it.
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
Of course, it was no great luck to keep talented men on to serve him, but luck had been in finding them. And a little pat on his own back for having the foresight to choose them. But that was something else entirely.
He had one night, and no more. His face tightened into an almost smile. Now...He had to tell his mother that her future daughter-in-law was all but arriving at their gates.
***
It was an official welcome. He did not go out to greet the party, forced instead to watch from a wood-guarded window as the supply wagon rattled into the yard, and the more cleverly built carriages that held the women. Kyuhyun was there, greeting the girl’s father with a low bow. Organizing servants to help. A tall man was there, giving orders to their own servants until the flurry had ceased. And two maids emerged from the carriage.
Of course he was curious... His stomach was tight with anxiety. Yes, this was something he had acknowledged would happen. And yes, he knew and anticipated his duty. But the timing... He had so much to do, and was already burdened with his brother’s absence.
A graying head emerged next. The lady’s mother. A maid reached and a pale hand extended, a dark head emerging into the watery morning light. Her form was pleasing at least, he mused. And shrank back a step as she lifted her face to see the castle she would be calling home. Dark eyes. The same impression he had gotten before.
He turned, knowing once they had dusted the debris from their clothes, the next place they would come was the throne room. For a king, he supposed there was no more official reason than welcoming his bride.
***
As someone who served at the king’s side day by day, Kyuhyun knew when his ruler was anxious. He didn’t show it overtly, twitches or nervous blinking. Rather he showed it in extreme stillness, as though any little movement would give him away. The king he knew was quite a bit more natural than the frozen person who bid his guests to rise. The parents were unexceptional. Wealthy landowners. They had bartered their daughter to a queen’s title with land and riches, the king’s uncle securing her as a bride for his nephew.
The land was under someone else’s purview. But the riches, wagons full of them, only some of which had arrived, were his domain as soon as the audience was over. All sorts of excuses as to their unexpected arrival, and no claim of knowledge to the prince’s disappearance. They actually seemed quite shocked to hear it. Even the girl. He had wondered how willing she was, and had gotten somewhat of an answer. As she had alighted from her carriage, he had been close enough to hear her hiss to her maid, “But I do not wish to marry him!”
In a brief flash of clarity, he realized he was glad he hadn’t been born a woman.
He was the soul of discretion, but he did not envy his king at all. He had the freedom of actually investigating the three, who knelt first and then rose. The girl was pretty enough, big eyes, long hair. And she was silent and respectful as her father accepted the king’s greetings, and definitely not looking at the man she was to marry. For some reason he felt that was defiance, and not a lack of curiosity or an excess of modesty.
His eye was caught at the back of the room. The tall steward of the girl’s household that had been brought with them. The one he was saddled with stretching out into eternity. Of course, that would change if the man was incompetent. Not even His Majesty would force someone used to managing two servants into his well ordered world for long if that was the case.
As the travelers were sent to their rest, officially welcomed, Kyuhyun went to the king’s side.
“I felt they spoke the truth,” King Han Jun said, speaking of their lack of knowledge of his brother. “You’ll look after their things?”
“Yes, I’ll find their steward and see if there’s anything they require as well, Your Majesty.”
He received a smile of acknowledgement, which was high praise in such a frenetic time.
He had no problem finding the steward. Zhou Mi.
***
The dust of the abandoned hallway billowed under Kyuhyun’s booted feet, and he resisted the urge to sneeze. The stone corridor had been built before his father’s birth, or even his father’s father. A portion of the castle that was empty, used mainly for storage or for moving servants into during the times envoys had come with more people than the main wings could contain. But there hadn’t been envoys like that in many years. And the king’s bride had come with some small amount of servants, servants he had been told were to stay long after the marriage, potentially forever. And she had brought with her one of her father’s most trusted advisor, as some sort of overseer, a guarantee that she was being looked after in their “barbaric” lands. As though the king beat innocent women. Though, with the sharp tongue he’d been exposed to, even the saintliest of men might be tempted.
But that advisor, the one his king had said was his equal. The one who was to come directly to Kyuhyun with the woman’s (she wasn’t his queen yet) problems... At least he wasn’t given direct access to the king. This Zhou Mi. His clothes made him appear taller than he actually was. Did they feed him? Clearly at some point, because those legs went on for miles. And he’d had time to investigate, because the man’s lungs also seemed to go on forever, as he talked about goodwill and partnership and love for all countries and Kyuhyun didn’t know what else. He’d drifted into a daze somewhere between the sickly sweet offer to work together and the explanation of the home he had come from.
That wasn’t his biggest problem. If the king was obligated to show some trust to his bride, and her servants, it was Kyuhyun’s place to be his eyes and ears for any sign of deceit. They had shared no more than a look that had let Kyuhyun know to be alert. They knew who it was who had abducted Prince Han Geng, and it was the land of the lady’s birth. If there was danger from inside of her little traveling party, her father’s men, then Kyuhyun needed to find out, and quickly. They could not be allowed access to sensitive information, much less to the king himself. If they had designs on the castle from the inside, then if Kyuhyun lacked the sword skills to fight them off, he damn well possessed the brains to discover the treachery.
“Later, I thought we could discuss the dowry...” Zhou Mi began, trotting close at Kyuhyun’s side. Trotting wasn’t quite the word... He had a long stride that a man of his height should have, which meant he could outpace Kyuhyun if he so chose. And that irked him.
“Yes, let’s leave the dowry for later,” he ground out. It didn’t help that as he answered to the king, it was his place to be involved in every little detail of the woman’s arrival, from her hair cap to her calfskin slippers. And the dowry was no small thing, as she had arrived with wagons of various oddities. And he had to inventory it all, with the smiling jester at his side.
Which explained why he was in the old section of the castle. The lady’s prize spinning wheel had broken on their journey, crushed just for Kyuhyun’s benefit he was sure. And none of the newer ones currently in use would do.
The king would have found himself an industrious bride.
All the old machinery was housed here. In the dust. He made a mental note that the whole of the section should get a thorough cleaning within the month. Chinking was scattered on the floor, and it needed care before it started becoming dangerous. It was gloomy and abandoned enough without feeling as though it was falling down.
“It feels a bit haunted here,” Zhou Mi whispered, echoing his thoughts almost exactly. But the quiet voice made his heart leap in shock.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mocked. “You think some ghost will come floating through a wall? It’s just an old section of the house.”
“It just feels... I wouldn’t want to walk down here at night, alone,” Zhou Mi amended.
“Then I can see why your position is to look after a woman.”
The noise Zhou Mi made was amused, and not offended at all. “She will make a good queen. She’s very smart, and while she has a temper, her heart is soft. She likes to be busy, and doesn’t even quail at insects...”
It was ironic at that point in his speech, Zhou Mi shuddered, nearly bowling Kyuhyun over as he escaped a dangling web.
“You don’t have to sell her to me,” Kyuhyun said, counting doors now that they were close. “She’ll have my loyalty as is demanded.”
“I think she’d like your respect,” Zhou Mi said, prodding him a little with his words.
“That’s harder won,” he retorted, and pushed open the barred door.
“Perhaps after your prince is returned you’ll believe that we had nothing to do with his disappearance. We did not learn of it until we were on your lands. My lord wants only an allegiance, and this marriage is profitable for him. Her younger sister will find a good match based on the advantageousness of this match. We have no need for treason.”
“You’ve told us all of that already,” Kyuhyun said, having let the speech go on as he searched for the right corner of the room. “So we have what we have. Now, which spinning wheel would your lady prefer?”
He could see her in her room humming, spinning the wheel until eyes started to roll back. But as Zhou Mi smiled beatifically at him, as though he had just been given a compliment or a boon, he snuffed the mental image of tying Zhou Mi’s body in a bow, fixing him to the wheel, and watching him spin as well.
“This one is wonderful,” Zhou Mi said, using a fingertip to scrape off a layer of dust. “It’s in good condition. Quite like the one that was broken. Thank you.”
“Anything for our queen to be.”
He realized then, that when the marriage occurred, Zhou Mi’s loyalty would be sworn also to the king. He would not be an outsider, but one of them.
Zhou Mi smiled as he bundled the bulky furniture into his arms, getting dust all over his pristine clothes. “I hope we will be good allies and friends,” he said, offering something Kyuhyun hadn’t even considered or asked for. Friends? It would take far more than a wedding to make him forget where the man was from.
“Should the world last that long,” he bit out, and turned from Zhou Mi’s querying smile.
***
It was dark when they arrived at their destination, and the waxing moon showed only the outline of the fortress, wreathed in shadows. Han Geng’s legs nearly did not hold him as they pushed him ahead of them through gates, down stairs, down a corridor. Who could find him here? Held in some location. Perhaps it wasn’t the last place, perhaps they would move on... But he felt sure that that was not the case. The room they pushed him into was to be the last place he would sleep.
A noise of undefeatable pain nearly left Han Geng’s mouth as the cords binding his wrists were undone, the muscles in his shoulders and arms screaming as he tried not to move them. But that was impossible. The man behind him shoved him forward, his hands moving out of instinct to keep himself from falling face first onto the hard-packed dirt. The pain froze him, crouched, face betraying his agony to the floor he faced, trying to breathe. The searing, throbbing pain took almost forever to abate to manageable. At least until he moved again.
For the first time he saw his raw wrists, fingers swollen and bruised, and looking quite like they belonged to someone else in the hallway’s light. But as he inhaled, the tip of one finger moved to his brain’s demand, and then another.
A heavy blanket landed on his back, causing his shoulders to spasm again.
“That should do you. Maybe someone will remember to feed you, Your Highness,” the man mocked, and closed the door behind him.
Han Geng honestly wish they would forget. Even the idea of food, much less the sight or smell, sent his stomach rollicking.
With gritted teeth, he moved his shoulders, elbows, wrists and fingers. Moved until his muscles, his head, would allow no more. As he collapsed onto his back, the room seemed to spin around him. Mostly using his legs, he got the blanket, musty but warm, half over himself. And unconsciousness claimed him.
***
His arms throbbed when he woke, but some of the tingling, stabbing pain had gone. He could move with a wince instead of a bit-back scream. Even his hands looked better, at least looking more like skin. Still his fingers were a bit clumsy as he gripped at the blanket edge. In the dimness, he saw a bowl had been put inside of the door, and half crawled, half scooted toward it. It was some kind of cold soup. He could smell that meat of some sort had touched the broth, and limp ghostly looking vegetables floated in it. But compared to the pittance he had been offered during travel, it seemed like a feast.
Surely they wouldn’t poison him now...
The salted liquid made his mouth pucker, but he managed a mouthful. And had to wait an interminable time before his stomach would allow another swallow. This time he chewed on a piece of cabbage, luxuriating in the feel of food, identifiable food, in his mouth. It took hours for him to finish the meager bowlful, and he slept in between during those hours, keeping the bowl near him as though someone would come to steal it. Perhaps they were rats, or insects. But as deeply as he slept, he never would have known.
Was it the third morning since he had been taken? The fourth? He had lost count.
That was when the screaming began. When guards passed, they would beat on the door, shouting obscenities. When food was brought, it was opporunity to use fists or feet to bruise him, often knocking over the food they brought so that most of it was lost to the ground. Fighting back only brought extra blows. They could break me like this, he realized, his burning cheek pressed to the cool dirt. The scent of it, of animals that had been kept there, the acrid scent of it, was the only familiar thing to him. His body was betraying him, stiff and sore. And his mind was in constant disbelief. He had never been beaten, not like that. Not to the point of blood. A stern hand on his bottom, or a quick hand to his face for being cheeky, but nothing... Nothing like this. None of the whippings his uncle had given him or Jun had been like this.
He tried to imagine the meadows, the feel of his horse’s mane wrapped in his hands as he gave the mare a well deserved treat. The delicate lipping of her muzzle against his palm, the jaunty spring of her colt beside her. The laughter of children as he rode into the peasant villages. The little girls that smiled shyly at him, and hugged him when he offered sweets, and the boys that looked at him with awe. The hardworking parents, who worked to the bone often for what they could get. He knew their pride, and their gratitude to see food in their children’s mouths. No child would be lost to hunger, if he was there to intercede... If the chubby babies in their mother’s arms learned the best ways to farm, to read, to do figures...
And the image of his brother was strong in his mind. Han Jun. Jun. Stately upon his throne, the man who shared a face and a spirit with him. He was glad it was Jun. And felt guilty for that gladness, because he saw what the rigors of stress did to his brother. But that was why he was there. That was why, he was absolutely sure of it, that they had been born together. He was his brother’s arm. And their mother... When he thought of them, sometimes swallowing away his feelings were not enough, and he had to swipe at dirty cheeks to remove the tears. Not such a bad idea, he supposed, when he looked at the soiled skin of his hands that had been wet by them. It was the only cleaning his face was getting. Maybe it was just pushing mud around, but... It was something. Something that gave him even a moment to smile.
He ignored the trembling in those hands as another guard beat on the door and kept him from sleep, and focused on all those things to see him through till morning.
It seemed no part of him did not hurt, as another guard retreated, having had his fun. Han Geng tried to imagine beating them all, giving back what they had done to him... But it only made him feel worse.
When the door opened again, he rolled to his side, curling his knees to his chest, hoping that less surface of his body would lead to less pain. But instead of heavy, menacing footsteps, he heard harsh, rapid breathing.
Knees hit the ground beside him. And a hoarse whisper. “Prince Han Geng... What have they done to you?”
The hand that touched his face was warm, and he followed the arm, the shoulder and neck, until he reached a face he had known most all his life. A face he had seen bathed in sweat, dark in the glow of battle, and wreathed in the most innocent, happy smiles Han Geng had ever seen. A warrior, a knight, the best he had the pleasure of knowing. The man he had imagined that Jun would send after him.
Siwon.
A chill swept down his spine. Days of waiting, praying... And he was here to take him away.
Siwon was here.
***
It was a supreme act of conceit that the heaviest guard on their important prisoner was during the nighttime. As though someone couldn’t enter during the day. He had been crouched in a hidden crawlspace for almost four hours, learning the rhythm of the guards. He carried his strategy around him, with him. And could not believe his eyes or ears when a guard entered the room. He got a glimpse of a leg that he thought was Han Geng’s as the door slid halfway shut. And there was the dull thud of flesh being hit. The little whimper of pain that was stark enough even for Siwon to hear. And to see the man deliberately kick over the bowl he had put inside the door... And laughed, pleased with himself.
Tearing the man apart with his bare hands was too good for him, Siwon thought, unaware that if the man had seen him, his clenched fists, stone face, he would have surely died of fright alone.
How dare they...
He pushed the thought aside. The guards, as heinous as they were, were not his concern. The highest point of the sun had come, and had begun to wend downwards. And that was the time Siwon wanted. Enough sunlight for them to emerge unquestioned, and not so much that he would have to ride with Han Geng, pushing him into certain exhaustion. With the bundle in his arms, he strode to the door. The hall was empty. As he knew it would be. There was no special locking mechanism, just a sliding wooden bolt, and a plank that fell across it. Simple. Impossible to open from the inside. And too easy from without.
His eyes swept the room for any dangers, until his eyes fell on the man who was curling himself into the smallest ball he could manage, like a dog who was waiting for his master’s punishment.
Prince Han Geng... For a moment, all his plans melted from his mind as he fell down beside him. And as he whispered his disbelief, “What have they done to you?” and touched the cool cheek... The eyes that searched for his face were wary, wild, not the soft expression he was used to.
And with parted, dry lips, his prince whispered his name. Just his name. Siwon... as though in reverence. As though he were the most important, best thing Han Geng had ever seen. But they had no time... Later, they would be sentimental, when it was safe.
“Let’s go,” he whispered, and Han Geng seemed to understand. He uncoiled slowly, like an old man unfurling painful limbs, but he stood. And was able to hobble with Siwon, leaning against him heavily as Siwon barred the door again. He had Han Geng crawl ahead of him in the passage, to the room he had entered in. They stayed silent a moment, just listening in case someone was there. But all was quiet.
“Go,” Siwon ordered. And Han Geng crawled out, needing Siwon’s assistance in order to stand. The arms beneath his hand seemed thinner, and Han Geng still looked at him with hunger, as he expected it was all some sort of cruel dream.
There were rumors in the outskirts around the village. Rumors Siwon didn’t need to ask about to learn of.
And for a price, one could learn anything. He knew he had a friendly smile, that men were inclined to trust him even when he was unfamiliar. Over a pint of ale, he had heard all the rumors of the village. It was on a crossroads, so there were more strangers than just Siwon that night. It worked in his favor. No one knew who the man was that was brought in bound, but when Siwon expressed interest in how the fortress was laid out, there were men willing to boast over each other, who had been there the most.
A bricklayer who had said the bottom level was haunted. A carpenter that said the old areas were full of holes and shafts. And to Siwon’s disbelieving, shocked face, they boasted more.
A coin bought his way into the city where things were sold, to the inner reaches nearest the fortress’s edge. Dressed in his best clothes, it took little more than a smile at a passing matron, offering to help her carry her load. And in front of all eyes, he walked into the fortress unseen.
He watched Han Geng warily as he braced himself on the wall. There was a sag to his posture that made this plan seem not quite as farfetched as it might originally seem.
“I’m weak,” Han Geng said, waving off Siwon’s concern, speaking again finally. They managed to get both of his feet into the long skirt, Siwon quickly fastening it. The bodice was almost too big, but Siwon laced it tight, tucking up some of the extra material to give it almost the impression of a bosom, something Han Geng obviously did not possess. Nor did he have hair long enough to pass for a woman. But Siwon had thought of that. He draped the light, large scarf over Han Geng’s head, wrapping it around Han Geng’s neck in as best an approximation as he could muster of one of the styles some married women would wear. He left it a bit long in front, to cover the contours of Han Geng’s dirty face, but all in all... Han Geng made a very poor woman, but all they needed was to fool people until they could get out.
“Are you ready?” he asked, and at Han Geng’s nod, boosted the prince through the hole in the floor above them. He pulled himself through as well, helping Han Geng to stand away from it, and covering the hole he had made with the broken boards and a folded rug.
“I will tell anyone who asked that my wife has swooned,” Siwon whispered, positioning them at the door. “So you must be still, perhaps... Perhaps moaning if we get into a tight spot.”
“I’ll do what I must,” Han Geng agreed, and allowed Siwon to lift him from his feet, laying limp in Siwon’s arms. There was little artifice in it. The outer corridor was quiet, and Siwon, with Han Geng’s help, got the door opened, and began the walk that would lead them outside. His adrenaline was high, barely seeing Han Geng’s face tucked as he was to Siwon’s shoulder. He nodded to a passing servant girl who barely gave them a second glance, and he turned down toward the kitchen entrance.
“All well?” a guard called, nearly stopping Siwon’s heart.
“My wife needs air,” Siwon said, apologetic. “Because of the babe.”
“Ah,” the guard said, understanding immediately. “Just a little further, then. I’ll walk with you. Your first child?”
“Third,” Siwon lied smoothly. “A son at home, and one lost.”
“Then my wishes for a second son.” Han Geng gave a high, breathy moan, and the guard laughed. “Looks like she’s coming ‘round.”
“Thank you and good day to you, sir.”
The guard tapped his forehead at Siwon’s smile and left them in the open courtyard. It took little more than a brisk walk to enter the stable where he had left his horse beneath the eye of a watchful, half grown boy.
“Sir, can I help your missus?”
“My wife is ill, so I will take her,” Siwon said, tossing a coin to the stable boy. “You did well, lad.”
His bags and saddle were still firmly attached, and had not appeared to have been tampered with. He got Han Geng firmly up, and settling himself behind. He couldn’t do what he wanted, to check Han Geng for injuries. But he did buy two meat pies from a street vendor as they exited the stable onto the street. Anything to look normal.
Han Geng had eaten them both by the time they had reached the end of the lane.
He felt exhilarated as he wrapped his arm around Han Geng’s waist and urged his horse into a slow trot. A man and woman on a horse drew no second looks, but he was aware of everything around him, behind him, in case Han Geng’s escape was discovered. They had successfully passed the end of the houses, into flatter land, and the rapidly approaching forest path. Once there, they would veer, zigzagging for a time to throw off any trackers.
He felt easier as his horse slid into an easy canter, leaving the open behind them.
***