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unpeumacabre · 4 years ago

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my kingdom for a horse: chapter 3

the year is 1601, a messenger has been sent to dongnae, and he has not returned. lord cho-hak-ju advises the joseon king to send crown prince lee chang to dongnae to investigate, but the plot he unravels there threatens the safety of the entire kingdom, and the stability of the dynasty.

a rewriting of kingdom, and lee chang finds love.

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Lee Chang/Yeong-shin

Read on AO3 (bc tumblr might mess up the formatting + more extensive author’s notes on the story)

Count: 7k

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It is a hard ride to Sangju. The day grows long and the shadows grow darker, and they hear the growling of the monsters begin to rumble the ground behind them.

“They are all around us!” Mu-yeong calls, and Lee Chang only detects the tinge of fear in his voice because he knows him so well. “They are coming from the forest, from the plains – we must go faster!”

“How can we possibly outrun them?” howls Cho Beom-pal. “Aah, father, uncle, gods – is there anyone who can help us?”

“Save your breath and do something to be of use!” barks Mu-yeong furiously, as his horse stumbles over a rocky patch. Seo-bi clings on tighter to him as the horse almost falls, but then thankfully rights itself.

Suddenly, two monsters careen out of the woods from beside them, hands extended in claws, and jaws slavering. Lee Chang feels Yeong-shin let go of the saddle behind him, load up his musket, and fire with not a split second of hesitation. The shot catches one monster straight through the neck, and its head blasts right off. The other monster finds itself beheaded by Mu-yeong’s blade.

Lee Chang feels the heat of Yeong-shin’s body seep into his skin, from where they are pressed against each other. It burns him like fire.

A shriek comes from beside them, as another monster leaps at Beom-pal’s adjutant. The man lashes his reins and digs in his heels, cursing his horse and urging it forward.

“Yah! Yah!” he yelps, lashing the reins again. The mare charges forward, eyes rolling and mouth foaming. As it feels the fetid breath of the monster against its rump, it squeals in terror and rears. Yeong-shin discharges another shot from his musket, which blows the head of the monster off, but the damage is done – the adjutant has been tossed from his horse, and he hits the ground with a sickening thud and a cry of pain.

Lee Chang swiftly reaches out and catches the reins of the man’s horse, yanking hard and bringing the mare to a stop. He leaps off his own steed and hauls the adjutant to his feet, quickly checking him over – it appears nothing has broken or sprained, although he will likely have a nasty bruise in the morning. Lee Chang hefts the man back onto his horse, and just as he is turning to return to his own steed, the bang of the musket echoes right next to his right ear, setting off a ringing sound that sends him reeling. The gore from a now-headless monster splatters his face.

The air whistles and rings in his ears, and he stumbles, disoriented by the discharge of the gun. Suddenly, the weariness of the past few days begins to tug at his body, and the sun suddenly seems too bright - while he urges his limbs on, somehow they begin to give way -

Then a hand grips his shoulder roughly and heaves him closer till he feels himself bump against the warm flank of his horse. His fingers dig into the rough hair of the beast, and it grounds him. Dazedly, in spite of the bright spots dancing across his vision and the tinny roar in his ears, he manages to pull himself back into the saddle. Hands grip round his waist, tentatively at first, then firmly.

“Apologies for the familiarity, Your Highness,” comes Yeong-shin’s voice from behind him, the edge of it smoky and dark, “but you would have fallen off the horse without it.”

Abruptly he feels himself sober up, and he blinks away the dots clouding his sight. He lashes the reins again, choosing to ignore Yeong-shin’s words, and the horse is off. He cannot, however, ignore the weight of Yeong-shin’s arms around him, and he wonders why the heat of the other man’s skin burns him so.

Finally, they manage to outride the monsters with few other incidents, save for when a monster had grabbed hold of Seo-bi’s skirt and almost yanked her off. She would have died then, if not for her deathly-firm grip around Mu-yeong’s waist, his quick reflexes, and his blade.

When they are sure that the monsters are far behind them, they make camp. The moon is high in the sky, and more than half the night is gone. Mu-yeong lights the fire and unloads the supplies from the horses.

They eat in silence, each of them on tenterhooks, just waiting for the moment when the monsters break through the trees around them. But that moment, thankfully, never comes.

When they are finished with their meal, Mu-yeong lays out the bedrolls and comes to Lee Chang’s side.

“Your Highness,” he urges, and the carefulness of his voice chafes at Lee Chang’s skin. “You must sleep. You’ve not slept for two days now. You must take care of yourself, you’re not used to so many nights on the road and such difficult circumstances - ”

“Is any man naturally used to such hardship?” interrupts Lee Chang, and he feels his jaw clench, involuntarily. “No man is born used to such circumstances, and so I must bear them as any other man must.”

“We should take the watch in turns,” Yeong-shin says quietly, and they turn to look at him. He is watching the forest, his eyes still bright and alert despite the exertions of the day, but he tilts his head in their direction in acknowledgement of their attention. “There is no use depriving ourselves of the rest we need. I can take first watch.”

A pause, then Lee Chang acquiesces reluctantly – no use fighting against such logic. He bids goodnight to Mu-yeong, hoping the gentleness in his voice conveys his regret at his previous irritation, and from the guard’s response, all is forgiven.

He lays down in his bedroll and stares up at the sky, counting the stars. They are much clearer here than in Hanyang, he finds himself thinking. There are too many bright lights in Hanyang.

“Lord Cho and I will hunt some food in the forest,” the adjutant is saying, as Lee Chang drifts off to sleep. “Fresh meat would be good for a second meal. His Lordship – and I’m sure the Prince as well – is accustomed to having freshly-cooked meat on his table.”

“Hunt for food?” comes Cho Beom-pal’s voice with obvious unwillingness. “But we already had dinner. And I only just got out my bedroll - ” There is a scuffling noise, then suddenly his voice falls silent. Yeong-shin says something in a voice so low Lee Chang cannot catch the words, then comes the sound of footsteps tromping off into the woods.

He falls asleep to the rhythm of Mu-yeong’s breathing next to him.

***

The plant grows only in the coldest of valleys, and holds the key to undying life.

Seo-bi wonders if there had been truth to her master’s words. At the time, she had thought it mere drunken ramblings on the part of a man who was unused to drink. It had been just about a week ago, when she had returned to her master’s office from a day of gathering herbs and tending to the sick, and she had discovered her master stone-cold drunk.

It had been an alarming experience for her then – not because he was a violent drunk, no, but simply because she knew him not as a man who was addicted to the bottle. And yet that day he had been out of his mind in a drunken haze. She knew it must have been a grave matter indeed that had driven him into such a state.

As she had tidied away his bottles and helped him to his bed, he had stared at the ceiling with a terrible melancholy, and suddenly his fingers were around her arm in a vice grip.

“The resurrection plant,” he had whispered. “Ah, it will be my undoing…”

His words must have been true then, she thinks. How else can she explain this awful phenomenon? She shudders in pity to think of her master as one of the monsters – her master, who had been so very dear to her and the rest of the nurses, with his brilliant mind and his endless patience and capability for kindness. He did not deserve such a fate, she thinks, and neither did her fellow physicians – but then again, no one does. Not even the most evil of men.

Grubbing around in the dirt and absorbed in her thoughts as she is, she does not realise she has company until she hears raised voices from somewhere nearby. It sounds like the magistrate of Dongnae and his assistant, and she looks up, a cautious greeting ready on her lips - when she realises that the two are in the midst of a fierce argument, clearly not meant for the ears of anyone else.

It is not her way to eavesdrop, and so she is about to make herself scarce, but she catches mention of the Crown Prince, and it stops her in her tracks.

“We cannot run,” protests the magistrate. “The Crown Prince - ”

“Will not be Crown Prince for much longer,” the other man hisses. “Your cousin the queen is pregnant, and will birth a son very soon. You are a member of the Haewon Cho clan! Once the royal heir is born, no one will be able to touch you, even the Crown Prince. We should run to Hanyang and claim credit for fighting back the monsters in Dongnae, for our own. Your uncle will reward us richly.”

The magistrate still looks torn, as his adjutant continues. “It will do us no good to be associated with the current Crown Prince,” he urges the magistrate. “Once the new Crown Prince is born, this prince will be an enemy of your clan. We must disassociate ourselves with him as soon as possible.”

“What about – what about Seo-bi?” and Seo-bi starts at the sound of her own name coming from the magistrate’s lips.

“Who?”

“The physician,” he amends, looking down at the ground.

“Aish - forget the physician!” snaps the assistant. “There will be many more women in Hanyang. You will soon forget her plain face and plainer clothes. She is nothing compared to the beauties of the capital.”

“But…” and the magistrate’s voice fades to a murmur as they tromp off noisily, deeper into the forest.

Seo-bi gathers her roots and herbs, and hurries soundlessly back to camp. The prince’s guard, Mu-yeong, is taking his turn at guard duty, and looks up with a tired nod of recognition when she comes back into view. She looks at the prince – he is fast asleep in his bedroll, and so she approaches the guard instead, and tells him of what she has overheard.

“We must tell the prince,” she says. “They are planning to abandon him.”

The expression on Mu-yeong’s face is grim, and he thanks her for bringing him this news. He glances at the prince, sleeping like a baby in his bedroll, then he shakes his head.

“Let them run,” he says contemptuously. “The prince need not have saved that foul man’s life – he will forfeit it at some point in his miserable life. They are nothing but dead weight to us. We must not trouble the prince with this – he has much on his mind, and he needs his sleep.”

Some of her hesitance must have shown in her face, for Mu-yeong sighs, and shakes his head again. “You do not know how sheltered the prince is,” he murmurs. “His father’s status has always shielded him from the worst of the outside world. We must let him take his necessary rest, if he is to be at his best tomorrow.”

Privately Seo-bi thinks, he is not a child, and he seems plenty aware of the world to me, but it is not her decision to make.

“Very well. But I would not trust them with a shift on the night watch,” is her last parting shot, and she returns to her pallet to sleep.

***

As soon as the sun crosses the horizon, Lee Chang snaps back to wakefulness. Yeong-shin, who had been the last one on watch, is cleaning the barrel of his musket and staring watchfully out at the sunrise. He had taken more than his share of shifts last night – Lee Chang is ashamed to admit that he had been barely able to keep his eyes open during his turn to keep watch, and halfway through, Yeong-shin had volunteered to take over.

“I cannot sleep,” was all he had said, “and it would be better for just one of us be sleep-deprived, rather than two.”

Lee Chang looks around, counting his companions. Mu-yeong is rising as well, and he can see Seo-bi shivering in her bedroll, covered by a thin sheet of fabric.

They are missing two pallets.

“I let them run,” Yeong-shin says quietly, as Lee Chang leaps to his feet. At his words, Lee Chang whips round to stare at him, and he lifts hooded eyes to meet Lee Chang’s. “Rest assured, I didn’t let them take any of the food.”

Lee Chang looks around him, and none of the others seem very surprised.

“You knew about this?” he directs his question to Mu-yeong, who nods and gets up.

“Seo-bi overheard some of their conversation last night,” he explains. “They were planning to flee directly to Hanyang, to seek refuge with Lord Cho – I believe the magistrate is his nephew.”

Lee Chang sighs. Well, it hardly matters to him anyway – they are hardly worth wasting thought over. At least Yeong-shin had saved them their food and water. It is not as if either of the two had been particularly useful to them anyway.

They pack up quickly and quietly, as the sun ascends and paints the bare tips of the trees with golden light. Lee Chang shivers, and draws his robes closer around him. His breath makes mist of the air; he wonders idly if he will be back in Hanyang before winter truly breaks.

Likely not, with the way things are going.

Again, they ride hard and fast to Sangju. By Yeong-shin’s count, they will be able to reach Sangju by the afternoon, and Lee Chang is glad for that – any time wasted outside of the citadel is time that they will have to spend fighting for their survival against the monsters.

Later, as they are riding on the banks of the Namhan River, with the gates of Sangju in sight, Mu-yeong spies a body floating on the water. It is with a grim sense of trepidation that Lee Chang urges his mount forward.

He and Yeong-shin gaze upon the back of the adjutant, his pricely silk robes and garments now soaked through with dirty river water, and nibbled at by curious fish.

“He died a coward’s death – he did not stand before them as a man would, but fled like a rat,” Mu-yeong hisses, riding up behind them, and spits into the water. They can all see for themselves the path of the bites along the dead body’s back.

“They must have run into the monsters,” Lee Chang decides. “Those are the teeth marks of a human.” And for good measure, he descends, and slices the man’s head from his shoulder. The head floats upwards now, his ghostly face peering up at them from the water, expression contorted into a ghoulish one of terror.

“Where then is the magistrate?” asks Seo-bi.

“Oh, he’ll turn up sooner or later,” Yeong-shin speaks up for the first time in hours. He shrugs. “That man strikes me as the kind of man who somehow survives anything life throws at him.”

“Are we speaking of the same person? Cho Beom-pal, the magistrate of Dongnae?” Mu-yeong asks sceptically, and Lee Chang cannot help but agree – the man might not have been as conniving as his assistant, but survival skills had not seemed to lie on his list of merits.

“Just a feeling,” Yeong-shin says cryptically, and says no more on the matter.

***

It is late into the afternoon when they reach Sangju, and it is with a sense of foreboding that they approach, for they can see a crowd of people banging at the doors, but the gates are not budging. Up on the walls are archers, who occasionally fire a warning shot into the ground, or into the shoulder of a peasant who is brave enough to scale the wall. Lee Chang recognises some of the people who had fled Dongnae, although other faces are foreign to him – they must belong to refugees who have similarly fled the monsters, from other villages around Dongnae and Jiyulheon. His fingers tighten around the reins, and he feels a cold fury shake his bones.

As he and his companions approach, some of the people recognise him, and one of them almost faints in relief. “Your Highness!” cries the old man who had taken charge of Dongnae before. “They will not let us in – they say they do not have space to house all the refugees! Please save us, Your Highness!” and he drops to his knees with difficulty, to kowtow.

“Please save us, Your Highness!” chorus the rest of the people of Dongnae, as they recognise him, and even the refugees who did not come from Dongnae soon catch on and follow suit. An uneasy murmuring starts up on the fortress walls as the chants grow louder, and the archers halt their attack.

Lee Chang lifts his head, and he feels the light of the waning sun slant across his face. “Magistrate of Sangju!” he bellows, and the soldiers on the walls are shocked into silence.

There is no response for a few moments, then a man cloaked in armour leans over the walls.

“The magistrate is otherwise occupied,” he shouts back. “State your business with the Lord of Sangju!”

“Does the Crown Prince need a reason to speak with the Lord of Sangju?” Lee Chang replies wrathfully, with a sense of déjà vu biting at his skin. The soldier’s mouth drops into a perfect ‘o’, then he retreats hurriedly. It is a few moments before he reappears, almost tripping over himself in his haste.

“Crown Prince Lee Chang!” he calls. “It is an honour! Please enter the citadel. We cannot accommodate your companions, however – please understand, we do not have sufficient food nor housing for all the refugees!”

“Why, those - ” Mu-yeong starts forward furiously, but Lee Chang halts him. He looks at the people around him, their expectant eyes and gaunt faces, and abruptly his decision is made for him.

“I will gain sanctuary for all of you,” he murmurs, softer so the men on the walls cannot hear. “All I ask in return is your trust – your trust that I will deliver.”

There is no answer from the people, who remain prostrate on the ground. The air is very still, and Lee Chang waits with baited breath. From the corner of his eye, he sees Yeong-shin watching him intently.

Then the old man looks up, the gaunt lines and shadows of his face even more prominent in the fading light. “We trust you, Your Highness,” he croaks. “You saved us from the monsters in Dongnae – you will save us again here in Sangju.”

Lee Chang involuntarily expels a breath of relief, and he feels the tension leave his body. He had not expected them to place their confidence him so easily, for these people are obviously hard-worn by hard winters and harder masters. He had sensed that their trust would not come so easily – and yet, they do trust him. The weight of their faith touches him, and he vows to protect them with all the power that he holds.

He nods, then turns back to the soldier on the walls, who is awaiting his reply.

“I will enter with my royal guard,” he replies, and he cannot help the sardonic edge that then slips into his voice. “Surely he is not too much of a burden on your resources as well?”

The man executes a quick bow. “Thank you, Your Highness!” he calls in answer, and disappears once again. A few moments later, the gates creak open, and soldiers peek out, weapons extended to block any peasants who would attempt to rush in beside Lee Chang and Mu-yeong. Thankfully, none of the peasants make any move to break through the barrier, and therefore no casualties ensue.

Yeong-shin swings himself off the horse, and looks up at Lee Chang with dark eyes. As Lee Chang watches him descend, he finds Yeong-shin’s name slip out of his mouth, unbidden, unsought-for. Yeong-shin blinks up at him questioningly.

“Do you trust me,” Lee Chang asks, softly, so softly that none but the two of them can hear his words; and he does not know why it matters so, to him – the answer of this man, in particular.

Yeong-shin hesitates, then his mouth twists, and he nods. It is no certain answer - but it is an answer nonetheless, and Lee Chang finds himself curiously comforted by it.

He is met by the magistrate of Sangju as he enters, an old man with an overly-deferential manner which immediately rubs him the wrong way. As the gates slam shut behind him and Mu-yeong, he hears the cacophony of wails and cries outside the walls magnify in volume, and it only strengthens the resolve in his heart.

“Thank you for understanding our situation here, Your Highness,” natters the magistrate, as they walk through the streets, heading for the main building and his office. “There have been monsters besieging our citadel for the past few days – they first appeared in our midst a few days ago, and we had great difficulty chasing them out, but we managed to drive them out in the end with the help of Lord Ahn Hyeon and his men. They were visiting at the time, and they managed to send the monsters running with the aid of their blades and flame. Please watch your step – yes, please be careful, the steps are quite old… And this is my office, Your Highness, please take a seat…”

The moment they enter the room and the guards close the doors behind them, Lee Chang lifts his fist and delivers a solid blow to the jaw of the governor.

He falls, howling and cradling his chin, and staring in angered bewilderment up at Lee Chang. “Your Highness!” he says, aghast. “What – why – what sin have I committed, to deserve such a punishment?”

Lee Chang towers over the man, taking vicious pleasure in the way he cowers back under Lee Chang’s shadow.

“What has happened to the officials of Joseon, to make them so,” he hisses. “Cowards, the lot of you, and undeserving of your titles. Did you not take the oath to protect our people when you ascended to your position? Have you forgotten that your duties and your protection extend not only to the rich and decorated, but also the poor?” He takes a moment to savour the fear in the man’s eyes. He is not usually cruel, but the thought of the people of Dongnae and its surrounding villages banging helplessly at the gates of Sangju – gates which they had no hope of opening – makes him crueller in his reprimand.

“Not only have you denied asylum to the people at your gate,” he roars, “but you have also denied your own people of Sangju their needs. You and your men look well-fed and satisfied, while I counted no less than ten beggars on the streets we passed. Men are dying both within and without your walls, while you sit by and do nothing. You disgust me.”

“Your Highness,” comes a calm, familiar voice from behind him, as the rustle of the doors slipping open echoes through the room, and Lee Chang whips around, furious at the interruption – but he is greeted by the sight of a very dear friend, and his former master.

“Lord Ahn Hyeon,” he says, mustering a smile. “Master.”

The man steps in, accompanied by his faithful guard, and shuts the door quietly behind him. He stands over the magistrate on the ground in silence, his face blank. Lee Chang takes this as his cue to continue.

“Let the people of Dongnae in,” he says sternly. “Will you have their deaths on your conscience?”

“I cannot,” says the governor stubbornly, his face hardening into a pugnacious mask. “We do not have enough supplies to accommodate so many. It will be certain death for all, if we let those refugees into Sangju.”

“Then you are relieved of your duty,” Lee Chang says, very calmly. The man stares up at him with comically-wide eyes.

“You cannot,” he says in disbelief. “You – I have been given this position by the king himself - ”

“How dare you speak to me as if you were above your station,” Lee Chang says. “You dare to drop honorifics with me? Who do you think you are?” Mu-yeong unsheathes his sword and steps forward threateningly. His shadow looms large against the flickering light of the lamp. They have little time, Lee Chang knows, and his patience is wearing thin.

“The people under Sangju will be under my protection from now on,” he says quietly, and the tremor in his voice betrays the strength of his feeling. “You are dismissed.”

As he spins around and strides through the door, he catches Lord Ahn Hyeon’s eye. The man betrays no emotion, as usual – he has always been good at keeping his poker face, Lee Chang remembers – but he nods slightly as they leave, and Lee Chang feels the warmth of his approval spread through his chest. He inclines his head in return, knowing his master will deal with the magistrate – well, the now former magistrate - and steps out of the room.

He goes immediately to the walls above the gates, where the man in armour who had greeted him on the walls is waiting. The man is evidently a commander of the battalion, from his garb, and so Lee Chang directs his orders to him.

“By royal command, the former governor of Sangju has been removed from his position,” he says abruptly, wasting no time and continuing so the man cannot interrupt. “I have taken over command of Sangju, and my first command will be this – open the gates and allow the entry of the refugees from Dongnae and its surrounding inhabitations. Quickly, before the sun sets and they are at the mercy of the monsters.”

The man is commendably quick on the uptake, and he bows in answer with no rebuttal. “As you wish, Your Highness, so it will be done,” he says, and hurries down the stairs. He barks several sharp orders at the soldiers, and they hurry to the gates, which they pry open. The people flood in quickly, some who had been pressed against the gate falling and almost being trampled upon by the rest. Lee Chang espies Seo-bi and Yeong-shin entering with the rest of the people, and they look up and catch his eye.

The movement is slight and Lee Chang almost misses it, but Yeong-shin inclines his head, and his eyes still burn like an inferno.

“Your Highness. Your Highness!” Lee Chang starts, and realises that Mu-yeong has been calling his name for a while. He blinks, and Yeong-shin is no longer looking in his direction.

“Yes,” he says, turning to his guard. “What is it?”

“Lord Ahn Hyeon has asked you to meet him in his lodgings,” he murmurs. “He says that he has important things to speak of, with you.”

“Thank you,” Lee Chang says, still rattled. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts, then smiles weakly, and pats Mu-yeong on the shoulder. “Let the guards know to provide the appropriate lodgings for Seo-bi and Yeong-shin – they must be rewarded for taking the dangerous path with us. Then you must go and rest, Mu-yeong. You have had a difficult past few days. Enjoy your dinner.”

“As you wish, Your Highess - then I will see you later.” Mu-yeong bows, and takes his leave. Lee Chang follows the guard who had been sent to fetch him to Ahn Hyeon’s study.

He ducks his head to avoid hitting the beam of the door, and enters. His former master is seated at his table, facing the door, scrolls piled neatly next to him, and one unfurled in front of him. The room is clean and spartan, barely-lived in, and the sparse light from various candles flickers across the room.

Lee Chang has to suppress the urge to smile. The scene is almost painfully nostalgic, in a way, and it makes him feel like a nine-year-old child again; eager to see his accomplished master, eager to spend time with the man who had had the most faith in him at the time.

“How many years has it been, Master?” he says quietly, as he takes his place at the table. Lord Ahn Hyeon looks up at him, and the edge of that sharp gaze has not been dulled by time.

In fact, Lee Chang is struck by how little he has changed in the intervening years. A touch of grey in his beard, perhaps, or a few more creases by his eyes, or a little more looseness in the skin about his jowls; but otherwise, the line of his jaw is still stubborn and strong, and his movements are still careful and measured as he puts away the scroll he has been reading.

“Far too many years, Your Highness, for you to still be calling me your master,” Lord Ahn Hyeon replies calmly. “How have you been keeping yourself?”

“Still alive, as you can see,” Lee Chang answers, and they share a smile of weary amusement at the old joke. “And you – you are still in Sangju.”

“It has only been three years since my dear mother passed on. I stay here to pay my respects to her.”

“As you should. But this matter – with the monsters - ” Lee Chang hesitates, at a loss as to how to continue, and so he just launches straight into an account of what has transpired the past few days.

When he has finished, Lord Ahn Hyeon sighs. It is the only sign that betrays his agitation, for otherwise his posture remains rigid and composed.

“So Dongnae and its surrounding villages have fallen,” he murmurs. “And thus it has come to Sangju.”

Lee Chang leans forward. “How did the infection start in Sangju? From the monsters in Dongnae?”

Lord Ahn Hyeon shakes his head. “As far as we can determine, no. One of the guards on watch at the food hut was the first to contract the disease, and so we lost an entire contingent of guards before the alarm was sounded.”

“How did the infection start?”

“We do not know, but our investigations have shown that he was not bitten, and the infection was planted in him somehow.”

Lee Chang pauses, and frowns. “Investigations?” he asks. “How - ?”

Lord Ahn Hyeon nods. “We managed to confine some of the infected in the jail cells. We wanted to find out what cause the illness and how it develops, and so we have been conducting a few – tests – on them.”

“Tests?” Lee Chang says slowly, and the meaning of the word slowly dawns on him. He rises to his feet, and his fingers dig into the grain of the table. His repugnance brings the incredulity to his voice. “You mean – experiments? These were once human beings, master – you cannot be allowed to experiment on them. Killing them is one thing, but defiling their bodies in such a way even after their death - ”

“Your Highness.” Lord Ahn Hyeon cuts him off, and the sternness in his voice stops Lee Chang in his tracks. He does not meet his eyes, but carefully lifts himself from his seat. He stands by the darkened window, and it casts the lines of his craggy face in shadow. Lee Chang can no longer see his eyes.

At last he speaks again.

“Your Highness, I understand you were sheltered,” he says, very slowly, each word quiet and measured, as if he is reading from a script; a script over which he has spent nights and days pondering. “But this is the reality of war. And we are at war, with these monsters. Of course I regret our actions, but we have no choice. The necessity of this is undisputed.” He turns, and returns his placid gaze to Lee Chang. “Remember, these are no longer human beings. They are no longer alive.”

I am not sheltered, Lee Chang wants to stay, the sting still fresh from Mu-yeong’s words – overheard, as he had been awoken from his sleep by the tail-end of Mu-yeong and Seo-bi’s conversation the previous night. I am no longer a child. But the words stick in his throat, and he finds himself flushing instead, with what he is sure is an ugly flush. He cannot realise a rebuttal to his master’s words.

“Fine,” is the word he settles upon, and he profoundly hates the childishness of the word, “fine. I accept the necessity of the action, but not its morality. At least – I have brought with me a physician who was in the employ of Lee Seung-hui, the former court physician – I do not know if you recall him? She was the only one of his physicians left alive from Jiyulheon. Let her visit the jail cells tonight. I am sure she will have something to contribute.”

“As you wish, Your Highness,” Lord Ahn Hyeon says, with a bow. He resumes his seat, and if Lee Chang were a few years younger, he would quailed under the intensity of his gaze – but, now, somehow, he manages to hold his own. “What will you do now, Your Highness? Will you return to Hanyang with your report?”

“I will send my report to the king soon via messenger, but as for myself, I wish to remain, and investigate the origin of this plague,” Lee Chang answers. “It is an odd pattern – the disease has not spread organically, from city to city, but rather – as individual sporadic events in different cities. Almost as if… as if someone is deliberately inducing the disease in different areas.” As the realisation strikes him, he jerks up from his chair.

“This must be some plot of the Haewon Cho clan,” he says softly. “Even as they solidify their hold on the throne with the incipient birth of the new Crown Prince, so also do they seek to draw the king’s eyes elsewhere, to distract him from their plots and plans.

And to distract me.” The second realisation comes upon him again with a sudden and startling clarity. He turns to look at Lord Ahn Hyeon, and he feels the cold fingers of fear grip his heart. “They wanted to bring me here and get me out of the way.”

“Do you have any proof, Your Highness?” is his master’s only answer. His eyes hold few discernible answers, as usual, and only a deep and questioning wisdom that Lee Chang cannot fathom.

“No,” he concedes, angrily. “I have no proof, only surmise.”

“You will need proof if you are to present your suspicions to the king,” Lord Ahn Hyeon says quietly. “Especially with accusations against so powerful a clan.”

“I will find proof,” Lee Chang says, with a conviction he feels he does not have, but somehow, saying the words gives him confidence. “As for the present, the important thing is to light the signal fires – we must alert the other cities that there is danger amidst them, if my suspicions are true, and to tell them that there is someone sowing the seeds of disease among the various cities. I will journey to Jecheon tomorrow, to warn them in person. And tomorrow, you must prepare for an assault on Sangju’s gates. The monsters from Dongnae will be coming towards us in full force, in addition to the remnants of Sangju’s creatures, and the city must be prepared.”

“Those are good plans, Your Highness,” says Lord Ahn Hyeon. “But for now, you must take your dinner, and sleep – it will do you no good to be deprived of rest. Tomorrow will be a difficult day for all of us.”

“Thank you,” Lee Chang replies. “May I take dinner with you? There is much we must catch up on. The last three years have been too long without you.”

“I usually dine with my men. However, I can make an exception for tonight,” Lord Ahn Hyeon says, but Lee Chang shakes his head, an idea forming in his head.

“May I join you and your men?” he asks. “I will enjoy the company.”

“If you are sure, Your Highness,” his master answers, his eyes widening in surprise, but he hides the emotion quickly, and bows. “We will see you later tonight then, when the dinner gong sounds, in an hour’s time.”

Mu-yeong is waiting for him outside. He informs Lee Chang that he has taken his dinner, and that he has asked the servants to draw up a bath for Lee Chang in his rooms. Lee Chang thanks him for his efforts, and suddenly he remembers Seo-bi and Yeong-shin.

Where are they, he asks of Mu-yeong.

“Seo-bi is resting in her rooms,” Mu-yeong says in response, and a shadow crosses his brow, “but of the tiger hunter – I know not where he is.”

“Is he not in his rooms as well?” Lee Chang says, as they walk towards his rooms. Mu-yeong shakes his head.

“I asked the guards to provide them rooms, as you bid me do, and after my dinner I visited their rooms – but only Seo-bi was in hers. I do not know where the tiger hunter is, only – one of the guards said that they saw him slipping out past the guards, but I did not have time to find him before I came to see you.”

Lee Chang frowns. “It is dangerous outside,” he says, “even though it is not yet full dark. Why has he crossed the walls?”

Mu-yeong comes closer then, his eyes darting to the side, as he leans in. “Your Highness,” he says urgently, “Did you see how he handled that musket? I have heard that he is merely a deserter from the army – but that is patently untrue. He is no ordinary soldier. No ordinary soldier would wield a gun with such familiarity and aptitude. Who knows if Yeong-shin is even his real name?”

“And so?” Lee Chang asks, stopping in his tracks and turning to look at Mu-yeong’s honest, upturned face. “Who do you think he is, then?”

“He may be a spy,” whispers Mu-yeong. “You have many enemies in the court of Hanyang – he may serve one of them. Perhaps for Lord Cho, as a means of keeping an eye on you while you are out of his reach, here in the south.

“He is a chakho,” Mu-yeong continues. “He said himself that he is a tiger hunter. I am sure of it! Only a chakho would be so experienced with a gun, and with dealing out death so casually. Those men are mercenaries, Your Highness – they’d easily sell their soul to the highest bidder. You must be careful of him.”

“Fine,” Lee Chang snaps, irritated, although he does not know why, and he immediately regrets the annoyed edge to his voice when Mu-yeong recoils, surprise and hurt clear on his face. “Fine,” Lee Chang tries again, and the edge in his voice is smoothed. “I will find him, and speak to him. No use putting him on his guard, if he is indeed a spy.”

“I will come with you - ” Mu-yeong presses, but Lee Chang shakes his head.

“Go and sleep,” he says. “I know you barely slept last night, even while I slept like a baby. You must take care of yourself – and trust in me.”

“I worry for you,” says Mu-yeong, in a rare display of forgotten deference. It is times like these that Lee Chang remembers his impending fatherhood.

“I know,” Lee Chang says, kinder than he had intended his tone to be. “And I thank you for your worry. But you must trust in me. I can keep myself safe.”

Mu-yeong holds his gaze for a few moments more, the fear and doubt evident in his gaze, before he tears his eyes away and nods.

“If he dares touch a hair on Your Highness’ head,” he vows, “I will tear his throat out. Chakho or no chakho.”

“And that is why I have had you by my side all these years,” Lee Chang murmurs quietly. “Thank you for your loyalty and faith in me, Mu-yeong.”

He watches the guard leave with an unfamiliar lump in his throat. As the man disappears round the corner, Lee Chang sighs, and heads for the gates, his bath forgotten.

It does not take him long to find Yeong-shin, seated by the banks of the river. He is watching the forest, and Lee Chang can hear the rhythmic whisper of his movements as he cleans his gun. He makes no movement to acknowledge Lee Chang as Lee Chang comes to stand behind him, except for a soft breath he expels through his nostrils, and a very slight hunching-in of his shoulders. Lee Chang does not know how to begin the conversation.

A few moments drift past, and Lee Chang senses that he is the only one uncomfortable by the silence; Yeong-shin does not seem fazed. Lee Chang clears his throat awkwardly. The crickets chirp, as if mocking his discomfort.

“You must be tired,” he murmurs. “The hour is late.”

“Mm.”

Lee Chang sighs. From his position, he cannot see Yeong-shin’s expression, but he can sense the weariness emanating from the other man’s body. He forms a strong, stable figure, despite his smaller stature, and his stalwartness makes Lee Chang forget that he, too, has been through the strains of the past few days – but the signs are there, nonetheless, for those more astute to find.

“The walls and the guards of Sangju are strong. They will protect us from the monsters. You must rest.”

“That is not what I am worried about,” Yeong-shin answers, but does not continue.

He suddenly stands, holding his gun close to his body. Suddenly afraid he will leave, Lee Chang blurts out, “Lord Ahn Hyeon was my master as a child.”

Yeong-shin slowly turns towards him, his eyes blank. Lee Chang does not know what had possessed him to bring up Lord Ahn - it had been the first thing on his mind, and an unlikely subject for conversation, given that Yeong-shin probably does not know his master; but still, he forges on.

“He was my master when I was younger. He looked after me – there were many people after my blood, when I was a young prince. I was not born of the queen, but of a lowly concubine, and so it made me greatly misliked.” Lee Chang utters a soft, mirthless laugh. “He was the only one I could trust. It was he who taught me to be wary of gifts of food and drink, he who taught me the palace customs, he who taught me how to fight. When he left me three years ago, I thought I would be twice the man I was, when next we met. And yet now I am still no wiser than when he left, and it humbles me to stand before him.”

Yeong-shin does not reply for a while, and Lee Chang feels the flush of embarrassment colour his cheeks – he is thankful for the darkness that now hides his face. He does not know why he has said so much. It leaves him feeling uncomfortable, and vulnerable.

“If you are expecting me to feel sorry for you,” Yeong-shin finally says, so softly that Lee Chang has to strain his ears to hear his words, “you will be disappointed.”

“I do not seek your pity,” Lee Chang says quietly. In truth, he knows not what he seeks from the other man.

“Why did he leave you?” Yeong-shin asks, suddenly.

“To mourn his mother’s death. It was beyond his control.” Lee Chang is startled by the question, but answers quickly.

He looks up, and watches Yeong-shin stare pensively out into the darkness, jaw clenched. He thinks there is a curious tragic melancholy about the planes of his face; a story is there which he knows not, and he has the feeling that it is an important one.

“I have dismissed the magistrate of Sangju, and I plan to leave Lord Ahn Hyeon in his place to govern the city,” he says. “He is a good man, and a good master. He will take good care of the people of Dongnae, and Jiyulheon, and Sangju – all the people within its walls.”

“As long as you have such faith in him,” Yeong-shin answers, cryptically. Lee Chang sighs, and wonders why Yeong-shin seems so opposed to his master. It must be his natural wariness and general unwillingness to easily trust others; but Lee Chang senses that there is something deeper there which Yeong-shin will not tell of.

The dinner gong booms, the sound dissonant in the quiet night air.

“We must return for dinner,” Lee Chang murmurs. Yeong-shin nods, and they make their way back to the citadel in silence.

As they part ways, and Lee Chang heads for his master’s dining hall, he realises that he had completely forgotten his original purpose of seeking Yeong-shin out. No matter, he thinks. There will be plenty more opportunity to sound the man out – but for now, he remains an intriguing mystery.

He makes it to the dinner hall in time, and a hushed silence falls over the company as he enters. They fall forward in their haste to bow to him, and he accepts their obeisance, then bids them return to their food.

“I apologise,” he says, with a wry smile, making his way to the empty seat next to his master, “but I had other business before this – I did not have time to bathe before joining you for dinner.” Some of the men make unintelligible sounds, dismissing his apology, while others avoid eye contact and stare down wide-eyed into their rice.

When he sits down, silence descends. It hangs like a suffocating curtain over their heads. Out of the corner of his eye, Lee Chang notes the indulgent smile on Lord Ahn Hyeon’s face – the man is clearly enjoying himself, and Lee Chang feels a sort of fond irritation at the thought. He clears his throat, once, twice, then makes a vague sort of gesture at the dishes.

“You may eat,” he says, stiffly. “Do not hold back on my account.”

Although the men are at first wary, they soon warm up to his presence – they are good, honest, sincere men, as one would expect of those in Lord Ahn Hyeon’s trusted circle. They speak of their wives, daughters and family, and exchange raucous tales of wartime and drunken antics.

At first, Lee Chang sits apart, sipping quietly at his cup and picking at his food, and he is surprised when the man to his right fills his cup and lifts it to him, calling for a toast. The room falls silent at the man’s drunken impudence, and they all turn towards him, eyes comically wide, as if awaiting divine punishment.

Lee Chang sighs, and lifts his glass to knock it against the guard’s. The room erupts in a cautious cheer, and they return to their meals with heightened merriment. From then on, the braver of the company make a few attempts at including him in the conversation. While he is never truly integrated into the group – he is far too novel and elite a character for that to happen – they do succeed in bringing him some laxity. The wine leaves him loose-limbed and satiated, and he sits calmly in his seat, joining in occasionally with a glib observation here and there. His master presides over the assembly, his words few and far between, but each one clearly treasured and held dear by the men.

“I bought this talisman for my daughter,” one of the men says, and he brings out a square of purple fabric, embroidered with gold thread. “It cost me a pretty penny too! Her mother may not thank me when next I return to Daegu.”

“You should have bought one for her as well,” the man to his right says, laughing. “Women! It is easy to satisfy them with bright, valuable things. I bought this binyeo for my lady, myself. Made with bamboo and engraved with a peony! It will be an excellent addition to her lovely hair.” He brings out the item in question, and it is truly exceptional; the other soldiers ooh and aah over it.

“That is nothing compared to this norigae I bartered for my wife,” boasts another of the men, pulling the accessory out of his pocket. It is a double-jewelled norigae, and its rope of its tassels glimmers in the lamplight. Lee Chang feels his eyebrows rise; the jadeite used to embellish it would not have come cheap. It is a fine piece indeed.

The other guards sigh in appreciation, and the man next to him reaches out as if to touch it, but he snatches it away. “Don’t you put your uncouth paws on it, Kim Joon-sa! I almost lost it two days ago. Bumped into an old man wandering around the food huts, and almost dropped it. Aish! If not for my quick reflexes, it would have been smashed to nothing, and I would’ve had to face a right scolding from my good wife when I return home.”

“Your quick reflexes?” teases another guard, taking a large chug of his drink. “More like the reflexes of the guard on duty – he caught your precious norigae, not you. I was there with you, as you seem to have forgotten.”

The norigae-wielding man flushes, and sighs. He takes another drink. “Aigo, you’re right,” he murmurs desolately. “He was a good man. What a pity he’s gone now. It was a fate I wouldn’t have wished on my worst enemy.”

The table goes silent for a while, as they all pay their respects. And although the room is well-heated by lamps and the like, suddenly, Lee Chang feels a cold shiver go down his spine. It is a cruel reminder that, while they spend their time here in mirth and merriment, it may be the last night they spend together alive.

It will not be their last, Lee Chang vows silently to himself. I swear it on my mother’s grave.

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unpeumacabre · 4 years ago

Text

my kingdom for a horse: epilogue

a rewriting of kingdom, and lee chang finds love.

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Lee Chang/Yeong-shin

Read on AO3 (bc tumblr might mess up the formatting + more extensive author’s notes on the story)

Count: 4k

<-- previous

(included my author’s notes at the end this time since this is the epilogue, and i had a lot of feels lol)

“He was a brave man,” Lee Chang says softly. The girl stares quietly down at the square of blue fabric, slightly stained with blood – even though he had scrubbed and scrubbed, the guard’s blood had not faded – and she says nothing.

The guard’s wife has her hands around the girl’s shoulders, and she herself shakes with the force of her crying.

“He was a brave man,” he says again, more gently, and the two of them look up at him. There are tears trailing down the face of the girl, now, and she grips the talisman tightly in her chubby hands. “We found his body again from where we had buried it, and we would like to arrange the funeral for him. He will be given every honour that befits him, for he died to save my life, and I will be eternally grateful to him for his sacrifice.”

“Your Highness,” the woman says, but she cannot continue. Tears choke her throat and render her next words unintelligible. Lee Chang waits patiently for her to compose herself.

“Your Highness, thank you,” she finally whispers, throat hoarse with her tears. “Thank you for bringing Mun-pyo back to us. Thank you for your generosity.”

“Don’t thank me,” Lee Chang says uncomfortably. “It is the least I could do. You have lost the breadwinner of your household, and so it is only right that I give you enough to support yourself and your family. Please – no - ” He catches onto her forearms as she attempts to lower herself in a bow.

“Take it as the fulfilment of my debt to your dear husband,” he says to her, as she lifts her tear-stained face to his in bewilderment, “for I owe him my life.”

***

When he returns to his chambers, he is exhausted, both physically and mentally. The day had been spent meeting and speaking to the families of the three guards who had died to save his life, all those weeks ago when they had been journeying to Dongnae. The men had left behind two wives, two daughters and one son between them, and an aged mother who had broken down completely when told of her son’s death. Lee Chang had arranged for gifts of gold and silk to be given to the families, in compensation for the loss of their men, and for the old lady, he had given her care over to the girl who had given him information in Naesonjae. She was an orphan, all alone, and the two women had taken to each other immediately. The girl herself he had given employ in the palace, under the eye of a lady-in-waiting he knew to be kind and just.

Lee Seung-hui had been found in the dungeons of Hanyang, in one of the dark, damp cells buried deep within the surface, with the basest of criminals as his cellmates. Eventually, under strict and torturous questioning by Commander Min, he had cracked, and finally admitted his motivations for spreading the disease. It turned out that, three years ago, the event that had ended the war had been the formation of a large corps of monsters from the sick people of Sumang village – a plot devised by Cho Hak-ju, and carried out by Lee Seung-hui. It had been fear of exposure of the part the physician had had to play in such a dastardly plot, that Cho Hak-ju had used to coerce Lee Seung-hui into beginning yet another epidemic that had eventually devastated the south.

“One of the men was desperate, and ate the flesh of one of the monsters I was conducting my studies on,” Physician Lee had told the commander. “Then we found that it was eating their flesh that transmitted the plague far more effectively than infecting them manually. Lord Cho wanted to use that to his advantage, to create a distraction in the south that would draw His Majesty’s attention away from his plans in Hanyang. And he had hoped…” Here, the physician’s eyes had wandered towards Lee Chang, who had been standing unobtrusively in the background and watching the interrogations. “He had hoped that one of the monsters would keep the Crown Prince occupied in the south, far away from Hanyang, and that eventually, he would be killed.”

Lee Chang had exhaled then. Finally, the pieces were falling into place. Finally, he understood all.

He had granted Lee Seung-hui the mercy of death, a quick, private death at the hands of Commander Min’s sword. It seemed the thing to do, for the physician no longer wanted to live, and indeed, seemed to have gone half-mad with anguish and self-flagellation at having been the cause of so many deaths. He did not tell Seo-bi of anything he had learned in their interrogations, choosing to spare her the cruelty of the truth, and told her instead that he had died in prison from exhaustion.

He rather thinks she knows something of the truth, but chooses not to pry further. She is perfectly happy in her ignorance.

Lord Ahn Hyeon had also been implicated in the events of the war by the physician’s testimony, and at first, Lee Chang had not known what to think of his former master. The news had brought him anger and betrayal, at first, terrible anger, and a feeling that he had not truly known the man to whom he had looked up his entire life. That this man had been capable of such brutality and mercilessness towards his fellow countrymen had been something Lee Chang had been unable to reconcile with the gentle but stern guardian figure of his youth.

Then, after his initial grief, he had calmed himself, and thought more rationally. It was likely that Cho Hak-ju had been the mastermind of such a scheme, as he alone had the sly, ruthless mind that would have thought of such a plan. Furthermore, reading between the lines of the physician’s testimony, it had apparently taken days for Lord Ahn Hyeon to give in to Cho Hak-ju’s wheedling, and for him to agree to sacrificing the villagers of Sumang village. It had clearly been something he had been unwilling to do.

Lee Chang had forgiven him somewhat, then. He knows that he himself knows nothing of war, real war, despite his experiences in the south – the desperation of fighting against an enemy they had had no chance of triumphing over, the terrible choice they had had to make – sick villagers in Sumang, or the lives of the rest of the Joseon people.

Besides, it turned out to be a moot point in the end. Lee Chang had received a missive a few days after his coronation that had informed him that Lord Ahn Hyeon had passed peacefully in his sleep, the day prior. He had collapsed from stress and overwork, and it was found that he had been suffering from a chronic disease of which the cure was unknown. It had been a quiet, pain-free death, by all accounts, and a fitting end to the dignified and noble man whose only stain on his perfect reputation was something that two people in the entire world knew.

Speaking of ghosts from the past, Beom-pal had turned up in the capital the day before the coronation. Lee Chang remembers the encounter with a kind of resigned amusement. The man had had an unlucky encounter with a troupe of monsters, which had forced him to live in a cave behind a waterfall for weeks until he had been rescued inadvertently by soldiers sent from the capital to clear out the remaining monsters in the south. Beom-pal had emerged a hardened man, lean and fit, with little of the spoiled naïve Haewon Cho scion he had been before still in him.

Lee Chang had promoted him to Minister for Taxation, and summarily fired the previous one on the spot.

“I need support from those who once supported Cho Hak-ju,” he had explained later, drinking tea with the Minister for War, now a good friend and staunch ally of his, “and who better to bring them on my side than the last remaining member of the Haewon Cho clan? Besides, Minister Han was not to my taste. It was as good a reason as any to dismiss him.”

The man is indeed a far better minister than his predecessor, for he learns quickly and now knows how to carry out his duties in a manner that pleases Lee Chang. He still chases after Seo-bi, however, something that never fails to amuse Lee Chang whenever Seo-bi visits him and, with extreme confusion and worry, describes a new malady that Beom-pal has acquired in the past few days and needed her assistance with.

“First it was an infection of a cut on his hand, next a burn on his thigh, and now gonorrhoea,” she reports with obvious distress. “I worry for his health. He must take better care of himself!”

Lee Chang wonders how someone can be so intelligent, and yet so dense at the same time.

For she is indeed bright, and using her intelligence to great ends. Using their experiences in the south and the select few live monsters the soldiers had been commanded to bring back for her, she has been studying the disease that creates the monsters.

Lee Chang misses her dry wit and sharp tongue, honestly – for the past few days she has been gone, visiting the Yalu River to investigate a potential breeding ground for the resurrection plants, but he reminds himself that she is due back any day soon, and that reassures him.

Mu-yeong and his wife are now living in the palace, happily caring for their child, and spending all their days in oblivious marital bliss. It is almost impossible to be around Mu-yeong these days, for all his attention is – rightfully so – completely and wholeheartedly devoted to his wife and child. And so Lee Chang has been forced to take on another, lesser personage as his guard, a younger man who had been Mu-yeong��s protégé and good friend.

He is finding the lack of petty thievery of his daily desserts strangely vexing. Perhaps he will pay a visit to Mu-yeong’s rooms one of these days, and brave the infuriating cloud of marital bliss that hangs around his chambers, just to see his old friend. They had had beef cakes for dessert the other day, after all. Lee Chang remembers that it is Mu-yeong’s dear wife’s favourite. Perhaps he will pay them a visit, one day soon.

And as for Yeong-shin…

A lump rises in Lee Chang’s throat as he thinks of Yeong-shin, and he takes another drink from his cup. The soju burns its way down his throat and brings a pleasant buzz to the edge of his senses, but it is not enough to wipe his memory.

Not that he would want to.

The past two months without Yeong-shin have been… difficult, to say the least. At first he had felt nothing, thought nothing, and busied himself entirely with the running of the country. It had been easy at that time, after all, for there were always power-hungry officials trying to latch on to the throne, and petty land disputes, and aid to be delivered to the south, to occupy his attention. His days had been packed with his duties, and so he had had little space in which to think on his lost companion. Even in the nights he had had little effort to drag up his old hurts, for exhaustion overtook him the moment he fell into bed.

But as his position became more secure, and things began clearing up in the south – and elsewhere, where he was working on resolving the famine that had been plaguing the other parts of Joseon – there came more time to think, and more time to brood.

He regretted nothing, of course. Yeong-shin would have left anyway, with or without the kiss, and Lee Chang had not wanted him to go without at least taking some piece of Lee Chang with him. But it still hurts, to know that he is not wanted.

All his life, he has felt nothing like this, and he likely never will. Their bond is one forged through the flames of death and destruction, and any other romance seems insipid and lifeless in comparison. The officials parade their daughters in front of him often, attempting to find just one who will take his fancy and force him to break his vow, but it is to no avail. The more they flutter their fans and turn their skirts and peek out demurely at him from under beautiful eyelashes, the colder he feels.

A younger him would have appreciated the attention, he supposes. A younger him would have leaped at the opportunity, would have begun a harem like his father, and his father before him, perhaps. But now he is older, and he is tired.

This will likely be his life until he dies, he thinks, and it is not an unhappy thought. He has his friends around him, and a son to coddle and teach when he grows older – and, he has sworn to himself, he will be present for this boy in a way his own father had never been for him. He will give the boy all that he wants, and if that includes his time and his love, so be it. There can be nothing too good for his son, the boy who will be the heir to his legacy.

Yet despite all that, he realises suddenly, he is painfully and terribly lonely.

The thought brings him peace, as if giving voice to his feelings is an absolution in itself, and he looks down at his cup as he fills it once more.

“To loneliness,” he says, with a bitter smile, and his voice echoes around the empty room.

“To not being lonely,” comes a voice from behind him, and a hand reaches out and takes the cup from him.

Lee Chang jerks around, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword, a thousand thoughts running through his mind. It is impossible that someone could have broken through the guards in the palace, not to mention the guard at his door – why, he’s going to kill Mu-yeong when – if – he manages to get out of this, for leaving him to be guarded by a mere youngling of a man who could not even stop one bloody intruder from breaking in –

Then he stops, and blinks. He cannot believe his eyes.

Yeong-shin throws back the drink, and wipes his mouth. He nods approvingly at the cup, and sets it back down on the table. It makes a soft thud as it makes contact with the wood.

Lee Chang’s tongue lies leaden and heavy in his mouth, and at first he cannot speak.

“You - ” he finally manages, and stops there.

Yeong-shin sits down across him, and Lee Chang’s eyes follow him, unbidden, against his will, watching as if to make sure he does not disappear on the next blink. But he remains very real, and very much not a dream.

“You need better security,” Yeong-shin says seriously, picking up the jug of soju, and pouring himself another full cup. This he downs again with a flourish, and Lee Chang watches his throat bob with the swallow. He feels a thin layer of sweat begins to form on his skin.

“You grew a beard,” Lee Chang manages, a particularly asinine contribution to the conversation.

“So did you.”

Lee Chang fingers his beard self-consciously, and does not reply.

“It suits you,” Yeong-shin says abruptly, and makes an abortive moment as if to reach for the jug of alcohol again, but he draws his hand back at the last moment, and sets the cup aside instead. There is a beat of silence.

“Where did you go?” Lee Chang asks lowly, and the rasp of his voice is grating in the silence.

Yeong-shin turns his head, so his face is cast in shadow, and all that Lee Chang can see is the line of his profile, silhouetted against the dim light from the lamp.

“Back to Sangju. To my village. To find my brother.” His knuckles are white where his fingers grip onto the wood of the table. “He is not alive,” he says bitterly. “First I searched Gongju, but the magistrate said they’d never caught a boy stealing a jade hairpin from his wife. At first I thought him to be lying, but the guards’ stories aligned with his. And so I went back to Sumang.”

Sumang, Lee Chang realises, and he feels something horrible coil up in his gut.

“What did you find?” he asks, his voice quiet.

“Nothing. I found nothing.” Yeong-shin’s voice is toneless; there is no expression on his face, and somehow that makes it worse. “All I was chasing were ghosts. Beom-il lied – ah, I was a fool to ever believe him.”

Lee Chang feels his fingers twitch, and before he is able to stop himself, he has reached over the table, and his hand closes over Yeong-shin’s own. There is a roughness to his skin that Lee Chang finds foreign, calluses that mark him as a rifle-wielder, cuts and scars of a history Lee Chang does not know. But his hand is warm, and it feels familiar in his grasp.

Yeong-shin looks down at their hands, clasped against the grain of the wood – one dark and scarred, one paler but no less hardened. Something in his body softens, then, almost unnoticeable, were it not for the fact that Lee Chang knows his every, subtle movement by heart. Under the weight of Lee Chang’s palm, Yeong-shin’s hand relaxes, and the tension bleeds out of him – although he still carries himself ramrod-straight and alert.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Lee Chang murmurs, and the words have never felt more hollow. Yeong-shin side-eyes him.

“Do you remember what you said to me two months ago?” he says suddenly, standing up. He crosses to the window and stares out into the darkness. He remains motionless, calm, steady as a rock in the face of a snowstorm – and abruptly Lee Chang feels a wave of irritation wash over him at his composure. It is simply unfair, Lee Chang thinks furiously, that he is the only one so affected by Yeong-shin’s presence, when Yeong-shin is so clearly unperturbed by his!

So caught up is Lee Chang in his inner train of thoughts that he does not answer, and he only realises that Yeong-shin is waiting for a reply to his question, when the man turns and looks questioningly at him. Lee Chang blinks, and comes back to himself.

Then he notices how tightly Yeong-shin’s jaw is clenched. Sees how the tip of his forefinger is beating an agitated rhythm, ever so slightly - but still detectably - against the wood of the windowsill.

“I remember,” he says carefully, weighing every word, for every syllable he utters drops heavily into the silence of the room, “that I confessed my love for you. But I also remember that I asked for nothing in return – that I expected nothing in return.”

“And I told you that I needed time to think,” Yeong-shin says.

“Yes.”

“It has been two months.” There is something in his voice that Lee Chang cannot quite place, and Lee Chang feels a vice begin to clench around his heart.

“Yes. Are we going to keep exchanging statements of fact, or did you come here with something else to say?” Somehow, he keeps his tone light.

It startles a sudden startled harsh bark of laughter out of Yeong-shin, and the sound is surprisingly bright. The snow drifts quietly past the window, piling up on the windowsill, and lending a soft glow to the light that suffuses Yeong-shin’s skin. He looks almost regal then, despite his tattered clothes and rough features, as if he belongs there in Lee Chang’s quarters, and the vice tightens.

“You are a prince – no, the king of Joseon,” Yeong-shin says softly, running his fingers absently on the windowsill, but his eyes are intent on Lee Chang. “And I am a chakho. Nothing more than a commoner.”

Ah. He thinks, finally, he sees where Yeong-shin is going with this.

Something begins to unfurl in his chest, filling his body with a warmth he has not felt in months. Lee Chang stands, slowly, and makes his way over to the window – quietly, gently, as if approaching a wild animal with hand extended, an animal which could either bite or flee at any moment. But he does not think Yeong-shin will do either of those things.

“And so, in our time apart, you have thought of all the reasons why we should not be together,” Lee Chang says lightly, “and you have convinced yourself that these reasons are unsurmountable.”

The stubborn silence from Yeong-shin is enough. He does not make any move to reach out to Lee Chang, but his eyes follow Lee Chang’s movements as he crosses the room, and there is an almost hungry light in his gaze that urges Lee Chang on.

Lee Chang reaches his side, and lays a hand on his arm. The man startles in reaction, just a minute tremor, but because they are connected, Lee Chang can feel his every movement. They are so close that he can feel Yeong-shin’s body heat radiating against his skin, and hear every quick shallow breath he takes.

“I have not, however,” Lee Chang says, “heard anything of what you feel for me.”

“You have not married in the last two months,” Yeong-shin says, looking away and out of the window again. The snowfall is deeper today than it had been all those weeks ago, when Lee Chang had stood by the same window and refused to look at the door till his room was empty. The footprints the palace maids and guards leave – they stay in the snow, now, and remain even as fresh snow falls.

“Yes,” Lee Chang replies, suddenly losing patience. “It is unlike you to be so unsure, Yeong-shin. What is it you wish to say to me?”

“When I lost my brother,” Yeong-shin says jerkily, his gaze blank and unseeing, “The pain was… like nothing I’d ever felt before. I’d sworn to protect him, but in the end, my promises meant nothing, and still he was taken from me. Yeong-ryu… he relied on me, and I could do nothing for him still. Even with all my strength and weapons, there was no one I could save.

“And you…” Yeong-shin’s eyes drift shut, as if he can no longer bear to look out the window. “I can protect you, for now, but there is no guarantee that I can do so indefinitely. The officials will not let you live without a wife, and they will plot and scheme until they can take control of the throne, and if you died… if you died, I do not think I would be able to go on living.”

Lee Chang feels as if he has just been struck by lightning.

Finally he sees Yeong-shin laid bare before him – unsure of their future together, unwilling to be the reason for Lee Chang’s demise, and yet, warring with that fear because of his desire to protect. At the core of this bright, shining, powerful man is someone who is afraid of loss, for it has been his constant companion all these lonely years.

But Lee Chang is different. Yeong-shin will protect him, and he will protect Yeong-shin in turn.

Gently, Lee Chang lifts his other hand to Yeong-shin’s face, and cradles his cheeks in the palm of his hand. Yeong-shin’s eyes open, slowly as if hypnotised and against his will, and he fixes his gaze on Lee Chang’s face.

“I am the king,” Lee Chang whispers, and every word is infused with conviction, for his words come from the heart. “What I want, I receive, and if I want you, there will only be one thing that can stop me – you. You know I will not let the ministers or the people have any say in my private affairs. If I am to be allowed some, occasional, arrogance – why, I have been a good king, so far, and I have done nothing deserving of complaint. I have named my heir, and he is under great protection here under my roof. There is no one who I will allow to have any say in our relationship.” He grips Yeong-shin tighter to him, as if it will stop the subtle tremors that have begun in the other man’s body. “Be mine to treasure,” he murmurs, his head lowered, their foreheads brushing feather-light against each other. “And I will be yours to protect.”

There is a long silence for a while.

“I did miss you,” Yeong-shin says quietly. “Every day. I missed you fiercely. At first I thought I missed the loss of a fellow warrior, someone I respected and loved as a shield brother. Then my longing became more terrible, and I thought it was because I missed you as my charge, as someone to protect. But the truth is not so simple.” He turns his hand, palm-up, so that his fingers intertwine with Lee Chang’s.

“I love you,” he says simply, and Lee Chang must forgive him for not meeting his eyes as he makes his confession.

“And I, you,” Lee Chang sighs, as he leans in for a kiss.

There are many problems as yet unresolved. Lee Chang knows that this will not be the last time their insecurities and inner demons – both his and Yeong-shin’s – damage their relationship, or set them back. There is as yet so much unknown about the resurrection plant, and out there, somewhere, monsters may still be made. The officials wilfully persevere with their scheming and plotting behind his back, and he must continue to strengthen his precarious hold on the throne, all while keeping safe the people who matter to him.

But those are problems for a future him, and a future them. Right here, right now, with Yeong-shin in his arms and the snowflakes falling on the footprints in the snow, Lee Chang feels invincible, and he feels like a king.

A/N: ahhhh it's finished!!! thank you to everyone for sticking with me all the way (readers both old and new) - this has been my first experience with the kingdom fandom and i have to say i've enjoyed every single moment of it. y'all are seriously such gems and it's been amazing hearing your thoughts, speaking to y'all etc ahhhh <3 this was my first (and probably last) kingdom fanfic unless inspiration suddenly seizes again, lol, but this pretty much covered all my kingdom feels.

(shameless self-promotion) and i'm currently writing another monster fic for mdzs/cql so if you're in that fandom i hope to see you again!! please talk to me here on tumblr and seriously, i love all of you so much, thank you!!

read on for long rambly thoughts on this monster:

writing this was sort of a cathartic purge for me, after binging kingdom... i loved lee chang's character so much, honestly, and i wanted to give him a proper love story. i have to be honest, it wasn't till i went onto ao3 that i even considered changshin as a pairing, but after i read a few fics i was like, i'm in too deep ;;; and i wound up wanting to write a story that was a slow evolution of their relationship, from reluctant acquaintances, to brothers-in-arms with unconditional trust, and then slowly, to love. which is why it took yeong-shin so goddamn long to realise he loves lee chang, sksksksksk

but yeah i thought it was far more realistic to write this kind of love story rather than one in which they fell in love at first sight, especially in the (somewhat) au i built, where it probably never even occurred to either of them that (1) they were possibly attracted to men, and (2) that they should even be thinking about love in this period of time wtf ;_; but yeah i thought what would draw them to each other was sort of a more intellectual, spiritual attraction, rather than one based purely on lust (even though they're both very good-looking, i fully admit)...

at first i was dissatisfied with the ending, because it seemed a bit lukewarm, but then on reading it again i thought it had the kind of hopeful, tender feeling which i wanted to conjure... although y'all might feel differently?? I KNOW, I WOULD HAVE WANTED A MORE FLESHED OUT KISS SCENE TOO AHHHHH in my head i was like wtf is this, is it a barbara cartland novel??? what's with that shitty regency-esque kiss description??? but in the end it didn't feel natural with the style of writing and the flow of the chapter to write more into the kiss, i'm sorry, i think i'm just a coward T.T but yes!! please let me know your thoughts!! (and thank you for reading all the way, i know i always ramble lmao)

#upm works #upm #changshin #kingdom #kingdom netflix #lee chang #yeong shin #seo bi #beom pal #kingdom fanfiction #changshin fanfiction #lee chang x yeong shin

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