CW: Explicit language, blood, descriptions of wounds, violence, mentions of s*icide, mentions of self-harm.
Rin sits in the hallway, face buried in his knees. He makes for a pathetic figure, small and bloodied, and not a single servant nor guest engages as they hurry past. Word of his violence has spread through the palace and none dare provoke such a beast.
Jun’s voice barrages. Agonised cries, wretched and broken, flay the raven’s insides raw. Rin trembles as a sudden scream shreds his ears and he claps his hands over his head, breaths coming in short, panicked gasps.
“Luna,” he whimpers, tears soaking the fabric of his robes. “Luna, where are you?”
Eons seem to pass, though in reality it has only been minutes, before the little lord’s shattered voice weakens, then finally peters out.
The hinoki door slides open and several Healers file out, their aprons and hands stained with blood. Rin scrambles to his feet, puffy eyed and unsteady, as he anxiously waits to be let in. The grim-faced Governor steps out into the hall, Zen following closely behind.
“How is he?” Rin asks hoarsely, grasping Zen’s sleeve as he passes.
The manservant side-glances the youth, waterlines rising in silent anger. He pulls his sleeve from Rin’s grasp and says in a detached manner, “He will live, at least.”
Rin’s heart is as heavy as osmium, wrenched to the pits of his stomach. His complexion turns wan in dismay, red rimmed eye misting over. “Can I…can I see him?”
Hwan Sun stills and his spine stiffens. He gives the raven a rather even look, as if he were wholly unaffected by his son’s injuries. With measured steps, he closes the gap between them, raises his palm, and strikes Rin across the face with a resounding SLAP.
Rin’s head snaps to the side, cheek stinging fiercely. But it’s not the pain that tortures him. It’s the fact that in the brief moment before the blow, Rin could see nothing in those goldens. No anger, no blame, no emotion whatsoever. The way Hwan Sun looks upon him, makes him no more than furniture. Less than furniture, even.
“If you are to be Jun’s vassal,” the Governor says, impassively, “then you must learn how to protect him. My son will forever be scarred because of your actions. Repent and serve him with your very life.”
Rin swallows and bows his head in silent assent, clutching the front of his robes with trembling hands. His palms are still sticky with blood, but he’s unsure whose it is.
Without another word, the two men continue down the hall, their countenance as dark and oppressive as the descending night.
Astringent medicines effuse with the copper of blood as Rin enters the room. Upon the stacked futon bed lies the little lord, wounds exposed and packed with rare medicinal herbs. He rests his temple upon his knuckles as he endures the Imperial Healer’s ministrations, face grey and dripping sweat. The lights have been dimmed for the lord’s comfort, the crackling hearth chasing away the deepest of shadows.
The Imperial Healer, Ishiki Reo, wears a bloodstained apron to protect her pristine blue robes as she carefully packs her patient’s wounds. Her focus is veritable, thus she hardly reacts to Rin’s presence.
He slides the door close before warily moving to Jun’s side, hesitant to sit in the recently vacated chair beside. Perhaps he’s expecting to be told to leave, though he would be loath to.
Jun grunts and furrows his brows as the pain spikes, eyes squeezed shut. Sweat trickles down his pulsing jawline, dripping to the bloodied sheets below. It’s unclear if he’s fully conscious.
Rin reaches out, breath caught in his throat. His fingertips graze the lord’s wrinkled brow and it almost immediately smooths under his touch. Jun’s clammy skin is fevered, scorching to the touch.
“Be useful or leave,” Ishiki snaps, not bothering to glance at the anxious youth.
The raven intakes sharply, biting back a crude retort. He silently reaches into the basin of ice water upon the side table, wringing out the cloth. When it’s sufficiently cold, he sits down in the seat and daps at the suffering man’s face, wiping clean the sweat and cooling his fevered skin.
A light sigh puffs from the little lord’s cracked lips. Encouraged, Rin extends his ministrations to the lord’s nape, wiping off the dried blood there. His motions are a tad clumsy and awkward, so unused is he caring for anyone in such an intimate manner. In fact, he’s not one to care for anyone at all.
“Will he be alright?” Rin asks, smally. He glances at the Healer, but she’s still entirely focused on her patient.
After a time, she responds curtly, “After a few weeks, he will be fully recovered. He is very lucky — the damage could have been far worse. Perhaps even irreparable.”
“…” Rin washes the cloth, expression darkening. Blood swirls in the water like thin fingers of smoke. “Will he scar?”
“Most definitely.”
Jun’s perfect, flawless skin. Marked forever by his ugly hand.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
He turns said hand over. Blisters mar his fingertips. His thumb adorned with the black ring. It’s jarring, as if Beggarman had been nothing but a distant dream.
“Prtllxl Efb. Ktja’r sbeg cjwf, gluta?” tf rjsr revvfcis, gjlrlcu tlr fsfr ab atf kbwjc.
Vtf teoor atgbeut tfg cbrf lwqjalfcais jr rtf yglrxis kjrtfr tfg tjcvr lc jcbatfg yjrlc ja atf obba bo atf yfv.
“Tbe xcfk atf olgra qglcmf, Llcb Gjlxl.”
Lfg tjcvr ralii lc atf yjrlc jcv rtf olcjiis wffar tlr fsf. Dfjvs yijmx fsfr cjggbk wbgfrb ja atf rluta bo tlr ojmf. Vbwftbk, tf xcbkr la’r cba yfmjerf bo tlr rmjgr. “Tbe rtbeiv yf mjgfoei, eaafglcu remt j cjwf klatlc atfrf kjiir.”
“I thought he died decades ago? What does it matter if I speak his name?”
Reo sighs and wipes her hands dry on a clean towel. “We must bandage his wounds. Help me sit him up.”
With gentle touches and murmured urgings, Rin coaxes the semi-conscious lord upright. He sits on the edge of the bed, holding Jun by the arms to keep him steady. When the lord sags against his body, he doesn’t dare move, despite how heavy the man is.
Halfway through the process, Jun drops his head onto Rin’s shoulder. His shallow pants puff hotly against the raven’s neck and send small shivers down his spine.
“Rinnie…” the lord slurs, brown lashes quivering as he briefly stirs.
Rin bites his bottom lip as a sweet ache sears through his chest. He brings his hand to the back of Jun’s head, stroking his hair softly. Trying to soothe his unrest.
“I know it hurts,” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss upon his feverish brow. “It’s almost over, little lord. And then you can rest.”
Glazed goldens peek from under his lashes, pupils dilated and unfocused. “Was it like this…for you…?” he mumbles, grasping blindly at Rin’s chest. That large hand, usually so strong, weakly grips the raven’s robes. Rin slides his own hand over the man’s knuckles, feeling him tremble from exertion. “You suffered…so much…Rinnie…m’sorry…”
Tears prick the corner of Rin’s eye as he grits his teeth. “Shut up, you idiot. You’re the one that’s hurt, not me. Just focus on yourself. There’s no point in thinking about useless things.”
“Not useless…it’s…important…”
“I’m fine, little lord. It really didn’t hurt that much. Now will you stop being an idiot and relax?”
Jun’s head lolls as he sinks back into the void, much to Rin’s relief.
“Are you going to answer my question?” Rin gives the Healer a sharp look, tone bristling. “What happened to the first prince? How did he die?”
“Why does one as young as yourself wish to know the business of times past?”
“Believe it or not, it’s kinda my business too. So?”
The Healer pauses to give the obstinate youth a scrutinising look. She shakes her head and finishes bandaging her patient. “You can lay him back down, careful now.”
After helping Jun onto his stomach and covering his lower half with a thin sheet, Rin continues dabbing the cloth upon fevered skin, hoping to cool the lord down.
The Healer responds to his question as she packs away her tools and cleans away the soiled materials. “Hino Daiki committed suicide almost two decades ago.” Her tone is evenly tempered and careful, as if she were reciting a complex poem. “Out of grief for her child, the Mother erased his existence, not only from records and tongues, but also from her mind. One does not bring up the first prince without the expectation of punishment.”
“Why did he kill himself?” Rin frowns, gently pushing the lord’s sweat-drenched hair from his face.
“The reason is unclear. However, his father had also committed suicide not long before the prince’s death. One suicide always leads to another.”
“It didn’t have anything to do with Lady Hwan Jina?”
Reo raises a brow at the youth, surprise flickering across her aged face. “You know of the Lady?”
“I know that they were having an affair.”
“It was a poorly kept secret,” Reo sighs, clipping her medicine bag close. “Most knew that the prince held great affection for the Lady. But when she stopped visiting the palace, he set his sights on other women. He was a known philanderer.”
Rin pauses, lips pursing in thought. That doesn’t sound right. From what he’s seen in his dreams, both in sleep and awake, the relationship between Daiki and Jina had been intense. The emotions he feels from them is not unlike his own whenever he’s around the little lord. Painful. Overwhelming. And heavy.
If the prince had been a philanderer, perhaps he had betrayed Jina in the end? Or the Lady had been stricken by grief, upon hearing about her lover’s death. But what could cause her to linger in this realm? Unless the prince’s death…had not been suicide?
Rin intakes sharply. He wrings the cloth in the basin, mind racing. “How certain is it that the prince killed himself?”
“Quite certain,” Reo clips, tugging her soiled apron from her waist. She folds it neatly, bloodstained side inwards, and leaves it with the pile of other soiled cloths and sheets beside her basin. “I witnessed it with my own eyes.”
“You could be lying.”
“I could, but I am not.”
“Maybe you’re trying to cover something up. You’re loyal to the Mother, aren’t you?”
“You speak as if you are not.” Her gaze turns razor sharp, accusatory.
“She’s god, isn’t she? How could a rat defy a god?”
Reo doesn’t miss his wry tone. “I am an old woman who cannot afford to care for the past. How and why you are entangled in the first prince’s business is beyond me – but I will warn you, child. If you value your life – and the life of your lord – you will bite your tongue and keep your head down. Nothing good ever comes from raising the dead.”
“Is that a threat?” Rin sneers, gripping the sides of the basin.
“Look at your lord!” Ishiki shrills, snapping her hands against the skirt of her robes. “Was his suffering not enough to bring you to your senses? Did you not hear his screams?” She huffs and snatches up her bag, moving towards the door with brisk steps. “Never have I seen a man suffer so much for one so selfish. He is as foolish as you.” She pauses by the door, shooting a narrow look at the Rat. “Nay, he may be twice the fool.”
And as he watches the Imperial Healer leave the room, Rin finds himself unable to protest.
***
“Rinnie…”
A groggy voice, hoarse from overuse, jerks him from his light doze. The raven blinks and rubs his eye, clearing the haze from his vision. His entire body aches, collectively from his wounds and the uncomfortable sleeping position.
“How do you feel?” Rin leans forward in his chair, pressing his palm against the groggy lord’s forehead. Still too warm, but much cooler than before. He sighs in relief, resting his elbows on the edge of the bed.
Feverish goldens latch onto his eye, a faint smile curving the lord’s cracked lips. “Tired,” Jun says, weakly. “Foggy. I can’t think straight.”
“You have a fever,” Rin says, bringing a cup of cold tea to the man’s lips. “Here, drink this. Ishiki said it should help.”
Jun takes a small sip to wet his lips. He licks them, contemplating something, then takes another sip, this time bigger. “Prunella vulgaris,” he croaks, laying his head back down. “The cure-all wonder of medicinal flora.”
“Good to see you’re back to your annoying self,” Rin smiles, setting the cup back beside the basin. “Wasn’t long ago when we were doing the same thing. Except this time you’re the one stuck in bed.”
“Ah. Of course. I thought this seemed familiar.” Jun huffs amusedly, then winces when he aggravates his wounds. “What about you? Are you well?”
“I’m perfect,” Rin says, thumping his chest demonstratively. He flinches and rubs the bruised flesh. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I thought…you were dead…” Jun frowns, lashes falling low over his darkening gaze. “When you jumped…I was so certain I would never see you again.”
“A little jump like that could never hurt me,” Rin hums, absently stroking the lord’s hair. His fingers brush the latter’s nape and fiddle with the ends of his brown locks. “Anyway, it’s not like I had much of a choice. It was either that or being stuck by arrows like a pincushion.”
Jun falls silent, heavy lines carved into his fever flushed visage. “I apologise, Rinnie,” he whispers, tremulously. “I did not protect you as I should have.”
“No, you didn’t,” Rin says, evenly. “But that’s not your fault.”
“It is.”
“No.”
Jun raises his eyes to the raven’s face. Drinks in the sight of his seething mien. “It was my inaction–”
“It’s not your fault, Jun.” Rin glances at his bandages. Blood is already oozing through the gauze.
“…it’s not your fault either.” The little lord reaches out to grasp the youth’s hand, his grip surprisingly firm. “The Crown Prince forced your hand, during both the hunt and the assembly. Do not blame yourself–”
“I don’t,” Rin snaps, ripping his hand free from the lord’s. Goldens widen. “I don’t blame myself at all. Why should I? Like you said, the prince forced my hand on both accounts. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Let him kill me? I have a life, you know. A proper life. I may be a rat, but I deserve to be alive too!”
“I know, Rinnie,” Jun murmurs, his gaze softening in upset.
“So I don’t feel bad at all,” the raven continues, his voice rising in pitch and volume. “Even while I was whipping you half to death, I didn’t feel bad. I didn’t feel anything. And do you know what they called me? Do you know how they all looked at me?” He barks a mirthless laugh. “If it wasn’t my fault, Jun, then why do they always act like it is? Why should I apologise for something that’s out of my control? Does that sound fair to you?” His volume increases, until he’s shouting the last, fists slamming into the futon. He hunches over, head drooping, matted hair hiding his expression.
Calloused fingers wrap securely around his fist and his shaking digits instinctively relax.
“Why did you save me, Jun?” He whispers, shoulders flexing as he battles the turbulent tides of his rage.
“Because I failed to do so during the hunt.”
“But now you have these scars forever. Your skin is marked.” Rin raises his head, revealing a big, wobbly eye and fat drops of tears dripping steadily down his cheek. “You’ll be like me.”
“Then I am glad,” Jun smiles, cupping the raven’s damp cheek. His thumb sweeps beneath his dripping waterline, catching the tears there. “For I admire you greatly, Rinnie. And there is none else I would rather be.”
Rin’s flesh burns under the lord’s touch and those gentle words destroy him in the sweetest possible way. “But Jun…the campaign…”
“I am a Hwan,” Jun sighs, prodding Rin’s cheek with idle affection. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. I may as well serve His Highness during his first campaign. It is my duty after all, as his royal companion and loyal subject.”
“But you’ll have to kill people. You can’t kill people.” Rin’s not moralising. The little lord doesn’t have it in him to kill even an animal, let alone a human.
And then, those goldens take on a cold edge and flatten. His hand drops limply from Rin’s face. The sudden emptiness aches.
“Eleven lashes could have killed you,” Jun says, lowly. “If this is the alternative to your death, then I consider myself blessed”
“…I thought you hated me.” Rin smiles weakly, rubbing at his swollen eye. “Since coming here, you’ve been acting so…different. I was certain you hated me.”
Jun grimaces, countenance stark with guilt. “I apologise, Rinnie. I…have not felt like myself at all lately. Even before arriving here, for weeks I have been feeling so strange.”
“Strange? How?”
“As if I were warring with someone other than myself.” Jun clenches his jaw, eyes growing hooded. “Every night, I have been dreaming of my mother. A woman I only know through stories and paintings. And yet, she is so vivid in my dreams. It almost feels like..she is alive.” He closes his eyes. “She dislikes my friendship with you. Her words are like poison. They fill my mind and corrupt my heart. So that when I awake and see your face, I only feel her anger. I feel like lashing out or distancing myself from you. But I feel her when I’m awake now and I am afraid of what I might do.”
Jun palms his eyes, covering his wretched expression. “She keeps reminding me about the importance of the Hwan name. ‘A Slummer like that boy will only bring ruin’. But Rinnie, how could you bring ruin, when you have given me everything? How can I make my mother understand this? How can I make it right again?”
His voice thickens and cracks. Tears drip between his fingers. His shoulders shake with stuttering breaths as the little lord cries for the first time in front of his friend.
Rin stares, numb with shock. To see Jun cry is like seeing the gods fall out of the skies. It’s unfathomable and…all too human. He swallows the hard stone lodged in his throat. That terrible ache in his chest returns, this time innumerably worse. He leans forward and presses kisses on every exposed part of Jun’s face, cupping his cheeks between his hands.
“Jun,” he breathes, whimpers, “Jun, don’t cry. C’mon, little lord. Don’t be sad. Don’t cry.” And as he babbles, Jun breaks down further, visibly and audibly crumbling like tide-swept sand.
Rin pushes his forehead against Jun’s, holding the latter’s face between his palms, murmuring reassurances, comforting words, scattering feverish kisses between, and the little lord cries, sobs, as if he were but a child, delirious and wracked with endless pain.
Exhaustion claims the lord in the end, forcing him back into the blissful depths of oblivion. And Rin is left sitting by his side, hands curled into white-knuckled fists, determination hardening his visage. He gazes down at Jun’s tear stained face, his cheeks gently flushed from his fever and exertion. There’s an incredible surge in his chest, a tsunamic force that floods his marrows, veins, and core. The very essence of his soul.
Rin makes a silent vow then. One of devotion and protection. One of furor and vindication. One that tempers and hones his will.
He unfurls his fists and sees a white symbol manifest on the band of his ring, ghostly lines in obsidian. A crescent in the shape of a waning moon.
Idk what to say…. except please, kill that bastard before i find a way to do it myself please 😃🔪
LOLL revenge is best served cold 😙 THANK YOU FOR READING AND PLSDONTKILLME <33333
cries while looking for a therapist for both Jun and Rinnie
Thank you for the chapter!! ❤️❤️
They will need soooo much therapy after I’m done with them +_+ Thank you for reading Dondon!!!! <333
REEEEEEE—–
nah seriously tho, i thought that the Mother had something to do with Jun acting all out of sorts, turns out it’s him mom?!?! maybe…
I MEAN technically both mothers….so you were right?? 😂 Thank you for reading Curio!!! <33
👀 WAHHHH! of course, thank you for sharing your story with me!!!