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carmenlire · 2 years

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Tempered Blade

yeong was raised to be the unbreakable sword since the age of four, right? He started training since before he knew what it all would entail-- and then he went into the naval academy right? As someone expected to be the king’s guard one day, he did stints in several different areas, including extensive special ops training. A lot of what’s taught is only spoken of in vague murmurs and yeong’s never mentioned that a few of his scars aren’t from missions or childhood foibles.

I can’t get the idea of yeong undergoing special training one week when he’s-- 18? 19? He’s read all the material on how to stop himself from spilling state secrets. He’s read POW testimony so he has some idea of what to expect when the beatings start. Still, it’s just his luck that Gon decided to visit that weekend, not knowing that Yeong’s latest tribulation is interrogation and torture, another layer of iron being forged into the fire that will make yeong the unbreakable sword he swore to become.

Imagining Gon, visiting his best friend. His plans for the next two days consist of nothing but ribbing Yeong about his crush-- surely he’ll be crushing on one of the pretty cadets in his class-- and letting yeong lead him around and show him the ropes (like he wasn’t in the academy just a few years prior).

Gon, asking where Yeong is. Gon, being told that Cadet Jo is unavailable and will be until further notice. Gon, as king, getting that haughty undertone that makes the person in his crosshairs realize exactly who they’re talking to. Gon, being told that Yeong is in the middle of an assignment that can’t be interrupted. Gon, demanding to be taken to Yeong, as a tendril of foreboding curls up his spine at the way none of the officers manage to look him in the eye.

The room yeong’s in is in the bowels of one of the academy’s oldest buildings. Three walls are impenetrable cinder block while the fourth is a two way mirror. When gon walks into the observation room, it takes everything he has to choke down the command to release him, the order to behead every single person responsible for the sight before him.

Keeping still, wrenching his implacable mask into place, is the hardest thing he’s had to do in fifteen years.

Because there’s his best friend, his yeong, but he’s barely recognizable. He’s sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, head hanging low to rest against his sternum. His hair’s hanging over his forehead in a way that thirteen year old Yeong had declared as too unprofessional for the future captain of the king’s guard. Gon is studying him so closely that he sees a drop of sweat slide down the edge of his jaw, spilling onto his chest.

Gon bites his lip viciously enough to taste blood. The sight of Yeong’s chest makes Gon’s own ache in tandem.

Yeong is shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. His abdomen is covered in bruising purple. There are angry welts over his heart, lacerations down his sides.

His feet are bare on the concrete floor, tendons standing out starkly. His hands are tied together behind the back of the chair, the cut of his triceps almost obscene in the fluorescent light.

From here, Gon’s eyes trace the way Yeong’s breathing. It looks painful, each inhale a rattling labor of need.

Each exhale forfeited like it’s all he has left to give.

There’s an officer standing to the side, wearing a pair of black latex gloves with a face mask to match. The dull sheen of fresh blood catches the harsh light from above. His voice is detached, dispassionate as he asks, “Where’s his Majesty? All I need is a street address, anything.”

The tableau stills for a brief moment and Gon holds his breath. He has no idea how long this has been going on-- hours? days?-- and in that moment, half of him just wants yeong to give up, to break.

The other half always knew that wouldn’t happen, though.

Yeong’s back is a languid slouch in the chair. Slowly, he raises his head and Gon’s breath catches for the second time in as many minutes.

There’s a cut high on Yeong’s cheekbone, one of his eyes bruised almost black. His lip is split, a smear of rusted blood just under where Gon knows a dimple peeks out when his best friend deigns laugh at one of his terrible jokes.

It happens almost in slow motion and Gon’s eyes eagerly study yeong’s mouth-- the way the smile tilts up at the corner, scornful in its daring. Gon’s gaze catches, rapturous, on the way the corner of yeong’s eyes crinkle just the faintest bit, more impression than anything else.

Even from here, the look in his eye would stay lesser men.

Yeong raises his eyes to meet the professor cum interrogator. His smile widens just enough to antagonize. “Fuck you.”

It’s the voice that stills Gon even further. It’s hoarse, a rough edge to it like he’s never heard before. The words seem wrenched from some deep cavern in his chest, behind his ribs, somewhere no one’s been allowed before.

Most of Gon is appalled. Still. He won’t ever admit it but he finds it undeniably attractive and it makes something ugly in him preen-- the insouciance, the sincerity, the sheer strength his best friend possesses.

Before the last syllable falls to the floor between them, the officer’s hauling his fist back for one hell of a right hook. The shock of it reverberates up Gon’s own vertebrae, one by one and this time, it’s darkness coming up to wrap around his lungs to squeeze hard.

He known for years that Yeong will suffer for him, because of him-- but to see anyone hurt his best friend, his Yeong, makes a piece of Gon absolutely wild with fury, with the need to retaliate, swift and sure.

Head snapping to the side with the force of the punch, everything’s silent for a moment, everyone waiting to see what Yeong will do next.

For his part, Yeong just takes his time facing forward again. He looks down and if Gon didn’t know better he might just label his posture defeated. Pride surges though him, though, because he knows Yeong better than anyone else in the world.

Yeong’s mouth drops open. Gon’s eyes don’t catch on the fullness of his lower lip, bloodied and bitten raw-- don’t linger on the dull shine of his teeth, the way Yeong’s tongue darts out and doesn’t flinch at what must be the taste of sharp copper.

Instead, he watches calmly with the other officers as Yeong suddenly breathes in sharply through clenched teeth before spitting right between his interrogator’s boots. It’s more blood than saliva.

The officer wrenches Yeong’s head back with a hand fisted in sweat-soaked locks.

Yeong is calm as his eyes meet the officer’s. There’s nothing amused about his expression now.

So quiet that Gon catches himself leaning closer to hear, Yeong says, “I’m going to kill you.”

The officer raises a brow but doesn’t get a chance to speak before Yeong continues, still deadly calm, “And I swear to God, you’ll kill me before you touch a hair on his majesty’s fucking head.”

In the observation room, all of the witnessing officer’s breath a quiet sigh of relief. The interrogator, for his part, just sarcastically pats Yeong’s cheek a few times hard enough to sting. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

The interrogator leaves the room without a backwards glance.

Gon studies Yeong, now that he’s alone in the stark room. There’s something beautiful about the sight before him but Gon knows he can’t let himself tread those waters, not right now and maybe not ever.

The interrogating officer steps into the observation room a few moments later, taking his mask off to reveal a proud smile. “Jo sure is exceeding our expectations, isn’t he?”

When there’s not an immediate response, he looks over just to pale at the sight of Gon.

Gon doesn’t have to clear his throat but it’s a near thing when he finally breaks the tense silence in the observation room. “How long has this been going on?”

The officer next to him– Lieutenant Jung– keeps a measured voice as he replies, “Jo is on day four. For the first trial, we allow up to seven days. If Jo is still in play by the end of one week, we end the exercise and he’s moved into recovery.”

A second officer clears his throat before adding, “First timers usually last less than three days. Cadet Jo is one of the toughest men I’ve had the honor of training, Your Majesty.”

There’s a lot of things that Gon wants to say to that. How dare you tops the list. A close second is by King’s order, end this at once. A distant third is I knew Yeong would make me proud.

All he asks instead is, “How long is recovery?”

The interrogator rocks back on his heels in an uncharacteristic display of unease. “It looks like Jo might make it the full seven days. With that amount of dehydration, malnutrition, and wound infliction we estimate three weeks, Your Majesty.”

Bringing his hands behind his back, Gon squeezes them into fists so tight his palms sting. He feels the ache of it in his wrists.

He nods once. “I’ll leave it to you, then.”

His voice remains level. This is what he signed Yeong up for all those years ago, Gon thinks with vicious self disgust.

It’s terrifying realizing just how a child’s promise has become a man��s burden. It’s exhilarating knowing that he made the best decision back then. The only decision, really. Yeong’s never let him down and Gon knows there’s not a single universe in existence where that’s even possible.

It’s humbling to see with his own eyes, in such a visceral way, that Yeong has not only stood by his choice from all those years ago but has gone on to renew that oath every day, every minute he suffers for the sake of a mere mortal.

For him. Not the king but Lee Gon, the man behind the kingdom.

That kind of devotion is awe inspiring. Gon promises himself to never take it for granted, to never forget for a moment the breadth of trust and fealty that Yeong carries for him.

It takes every ounce of strength not to call a halt to the exercise, not to sweep into the room and take Yeong into his arms and carry him to the nearest physician. There’s a part of Gon that’s surprised he manages to stop himself.

In the way that an eight year old knew how to calm a child, however, a king knows when to step back.

When the one thing he wants is– and will remain– out of his reach.

With a child’s negligence, he placed Yeong on this path. With a king’s stratagem, he resigns them both to shouldering yet one more weight in the name of their friendship, for the sake of the crown.

Gon affords himself one last look through the glass, at a Yeong who looks beaten but not broken.

A man, stark in his devotion, overwhelming in his fortitude.

Gon ignores the others in the room. He raises a hand to the mirrored glass, feels the echo of warmth along his palm.

Allowing himself just a moment, Gon turns to the door faster than he’d like. Hand on the knob, he hesitates before opening it. His voice is soft as he says, “I trust in your discretion, gentlemen.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Gon leaves the room without a backwards glance. He strides down the corridor, back to his motorcade– all without a single word. His guards stay silent, knowing what their king just witnessed.

Three weeks and three days later, the palace gets a call.

The messenger is patched through to Gon’s personal line. Gon doesn’t say anything when he picks up and the voice on the other end doesn’t wait for him to start.

“Jo is out of recovery. Minimal scarring expected and preliminary psychological evaluation passed. Next trial will be twenty-one days. It is scheduled for the end of the year.”

Gone hangs up first. He never says a word to Yeong about it.

Years later– once Yeong has left his position as Captain of the Royal Guard in favor of a promotion, as Gon likes to tease– Gon will finally take the opportunity to kiss the delicate arch of a scar along Yeong’s cheekbone, will press lips honeyed with veneration over a jagged line along his husband’s thigh.

The price of reverence is a king’s ransom. Gon happily spends his days with the knowledge that he’ll never be able to clear himself of this most profound debt. Still, he promises himself for the thousandth time, kneeling before Yeong, that he’ll make sure they both enjoy him trying.

#listen i don't know what possessed me #i literally thought i'd just write a little paragraph about gon finding yeong during yeong's academy years #but then before i knew it? i was writing like a whole fic?#i'm not sure if i should post this to ao3 #especially since the first part is more descriptive/meta you know #ahhh they make me crazy #i hope if anyone reads this they enjoy it!#i live for yeong demonstrating the depth of his love and devotion to gon #without hesitation without holding back #and gon being struck by it every time #and promising himself to never let it be for nothing #also this is pre relationship obvi #though we get the hints at the end!!!!!#and i hope yall liked the hints that they totally end up together!#ahh #the king eternal monarch #tkem fic #tkem #lee gon x jo yeong #my writing #tempered blade #content warnings for violence?

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