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In the Lion’s Den

Hei couldn’t remember a more miserable night she’d spent in the past six months.

She had no idea what was going on on the deck. Perhaps it was silent, or perhaps Junsu had already made some sort of move and the room was simply warded against sound. She sat miserably on the bed, cold and scared and hating the chains more and more with each passing second.

She tried to ignore the metal cuffs around her wrists. That worked for a little while, but they were too tight for her to pretend they weren’t there. So, gathering the chains as much as she could and pulling them towards the bed, she attempted to huddle under the blanket that felt very much like sandpaper compared to her cabin with Baekhyun and preserve any last bit of warmth. It wasn’t exactly successful either.

Sleep wasn’t an option, especially not when the torch that Jungwoo had left began to flicker out. Soon, even the embers were fading into darkness, and Hei couldn’t see her hands when she lifted them in front of her face.

Panic settled in quite quickly. It had been so long ago that anything similar had happened (the last time was Jaekyung’s ship, and that had many tells that told her she wasn’t back in that basement in Hua).Now, despite the fact that almost everything had changed, Hei could still feel the unwelcomingly familiar grip closing around her chest as she sat alone in the dark. 

It wasn’t Hua. That much was obvious, and Hei made herself count the number of differences between this and Hua. Miyeon had never left enough room for her to move around. There was a small window in Hua’s basement, although boarded, that let a sliver of moonlight stream through. The sparks had died from the torch, but the lack of light, however disconcerting, was enough of a reminder that it wasn’t the same. The basement had been cold, and while this was also, there was at least a bed and a blanket, no matter how worn and rough. Hei pulled it tighter around her shoulders. She was wearing Baekhyun's coat; it smelled faintly of him, a comfort she clung to tightly.

One by one, she listed it to herself over and over until she didn’t even have to think about it. The darkness was still unrelenting, but closing her eyes, she tried to bring her mind back to the ship, her own cabin, where just a night ago, she had been safe and warm with Baekhyun.

Hei wasn’t sure how she managed, but with the threadbare blanket around her shoulders, she curled up, leaning against the wooden wall, and drifted off. 

***

Baekhyun was tearing the ship apart with his pacing. Jinqiong genuinely wondered if there would be a hole in the floor before they could get any sort of information about Hei.

Jongdae tried to talk to him. He brushed him off. Then Luhan tried, but Baekhyun only told him to continue working on spells to free her from the gem so they could figure out something about Junsu. Jinqiong wondered if he had a plan, or if he were going wildly off anything they could grasp. With Byun Baekhyun, she couldn’t be sure. Byun Baekhyun with his wife missing was a combination that even Jinqiong was slightly afraid of.

For a good part of the night, there was nothing from Junsu. By the time the sky was finally lightening, none of the crew had gotten a wink of rest, and it had been six hours since Hei had disappeared. The sharp sunlight of the central island only showed the distinct set of footprints that led from the ladder of their ship towards Junsu’s, still imprinted on the thin layer of snow that covered the ice.

Hei had gone to Junsu. That was the only obvious thing. And if Baekhyun had been under pressure before, Jinqiong wasn’t sure what he qualified under now.

The sun had risen for about half an hour when Baekhyun abruptly stormed past all of them and shut himself in his cabin again. No one dared to try to speak to him, much less stop him, instead remained standing vigil at the railings, waiting for something to happen, even though for the past while, absolutely nothing had.

“Junsu wouldn’t hurt her, right?” she asked, looking at Jongdae. It was the only thing that had kept Jinqiong going the past while: he wouldn’ts that were more desperate than anything. Still, she tried to rationalize.

Jongdae was squinting at the light. The row of archers on Junsu’s ship hadn’t seemed to move an inch. If they had seen Hei, none of them showed any signs of acknowledging. Jinqiong continued, “If he has Hei, why wouldn’t he make a move?”

“Breeding fear?” Jongdae suggested. “I mean, it’s obvious we’ve found out she’s missing by now, right? Maybe he wants us to be wound up and nervous enough that when he does start cutting deals with us, we’ll have nothing to do but agree.”

The last demand was to hand her and Luhan over. Now—if, Jinqiong reminded herself—Junsu had Hei as a bargaining chip, she felt like there was so much more he could ask from them and they’d be hopeless to refuse or retaliate. It wasn’t as if Baekhyun could just turn away from it without risking everything. And really, thinking about it, she was in no position to refuse if Junsu did demand—

Junmyeon was the one who shouted. She glanced up, surprised, just in time to see the dawn light catch off golden armour. Junsu stood on the deck, watching, not the least bit affected anymore by the fake light of Hell’s Gate.

He didn’t say anything for the longest time, and, tense, the crew waited. Then, Jinqiong was as Junsu gestured at one of the men beside him. She couldn’t see what he handed him, but then she watched as Junsu drew back an arm, aimed, then fired.

Jongdae might’ve been pierced straight through the shoulder if Jinqiong hadn’t shoved him out of the way the last moment. The arrow sliced through the air, much faster and more accurate than it should’ve been, a deadly arc that cut through impossible distance. Whatever magic Junsu had used to shoot it had it splintering into the wall behind them with impossible force.

Jongdae let loose a shaky breath. Jinqiong watched as Junsu turned away, not another word said, before he disappeared down the stairs.

Jongdae snapped into action the moment Junsu disappeared. He reacted much faster than Jinqiong, reaching for the arrow just as the door to Baekhyun’s cabin opened and he emerged wild-eyed.

“Someone shot at us,” he said sharply. “The arrow just pierced through my cabin wall.”

“Junsu,” Jongdae said grimly. He was already tearing off the sheet of paper attached to the arrow. The rest of the crew gathered around, already leaning towards Jongdae while he scanned the piece of paper, grim silence blanketing them as they read the note.

It was simple. Junsu didn’t have many demands either, and in surprisingly elegant cursive, he had written:

The girl and the gem must show up in two sunsets with the map. The spellcaster boy is to be with them.

Baekhyun didn’t glance at the letter but instead, stared at the arrow that was still embedded in the wall. At the end, something shiny glimmered. Jinqiong watched him break the shaft of the arrow before he slipped the band off the splinters carefully like he was scared it would break.

Hei’s wedding ring caught the light. 

***

Hei hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and the fact that it was careless and stupid was reinforced when the door of her cabin (or prison—she wasn’t sure) slammed open. She sat up, head pounding, only to see Junsu holding a lantern, the fiery light reflecting off the plates of his golden armour. He set the lantern down, and she squinted at the light, trying to fight off the exhaustion that still lingered.

“Good morning,” he said in a conversational tone.

She flinched. “Please—”

“Begging will do no use,” Junsu interrupted. “Save your energy. I hope last night wasn’t too uncomfortable for you, sister-in-law.”

Frightened. That was what he expected to see her as, and while Hei had no problem looking scared (because she felt awfully small next to Junsu, as well as terrified), she wasn’t sure just how convincing it would be. She couldn’t help but think that he could see through everything, and it was just an awfully amusing game for him to play along.

“I don’t—” Her voice came out hoarse. “I don’t understand why you have to do this.”

He scanned her. Hei didn’t dare take her eyes off him or look behind, trying to search for any trace of Jungwoo. She needed to talk to him as much as she could before whatever time Junsu had given Baekhyun and the crew was up, which she would then have to figure out from Junsu then.

She must’ve looked convincing enough because Junsu waved a hand at her. “I appreciate it, Song Hei,” he said. “I really do. It’s heartwarming that you thought this could finish in some other way. But I’m afraid it just wasn’t enough.”

She glanced back at the door, though there was still no sign of Jungwoo. The action didn’t go unnoticed, because Junsu folded his arms, metal screeching against itself. “There’s no use looking,” he said. “He isn’t here, but the seal on your power should hold even now. If it doesn’t, I don’t think you’ll be able to get out of those chains.”

The chains. Hei didn’t dare move her hands, given that she had just gotten used to the position she was sitting in and it was enough that she could ignore the cold clamp of the chains just slightly. “What will you do to Baekhyun?” she ended up asking. “If you’re not—if you’re not working with your father anymore, what…”

“Byun Baekhyun has two days to hand over the map,” Junsu replied sharply. “My conditions haven’t changed. Song Jinqiong and the gem, then his spellcaster to undo the spell.”

“You’ll kill Jinqiong.”

“The girl has had it coming for a long time.”

“She can’t even get rid of the gem,” Hei managed numbly. She was past trying to sort out real horror from scripted, because at the moment, it all felt pretty real. “It wasn’t Jinqiong’s fault. If we give Luhan enough time, it’s possible for him to separate them, and you don’t have to—”

“You still don’t get it?” Junsu turned around briefly, dark eyes meeting hers from underneath the golden helmet. “I don’t want your solution, Song Hei. I’m not here to bargain peace to begin with. I have no disadvantage in having to fight. I have blood to spare.”

“So what happens if Baekhyun hands over Luhan and Jinqiong?”

Junsu’s eyes glinted. “When,” he corrected, “Baekhyun does, I’ll kill everyone on the ship myself.”

It was instinct when she stood up, fear and anger triggered by the reminder if she couldn't do what she came to do, Junsu very well might slaughter everyone. “You’ll never manage.”

Junsu gave her a smile. “Why don’t we see?” 

***

Hei was still exhausted, hungry and thirsty, and waiting for Jungwoo or Junsu to come back. The cabin they had left her in didn’t get any less cold, and despite the jacket she was wearing and the blanket they had left her with, it didn’t do much to block the cold seeping in. For what felt like forever, she sat, watching as the flames of the lantern cast shadows that flickered up the side of the wall. It was inevitable, she knew, and she had predicted that Junsu never planned on letting any of them go free even if he didn’t need his father to leave Hell’s Gate. Perhaps the crew would be enough to fight him, or if they could break the curse, get rid of him then and there.

They all lay on a big if—Jungwoo. If he suppressed their powers, there was nothing they could do. Junsu had too many men under him, and Hei still had no guess on his power yet. She had two days to make it work, and nothing would work if Jungwoo didn’t show up.

He came around what she predicted to be late morning or early afternoon. It was hard to remain lucid and try to keep track of time, but Hei could see light slanting onto the staircase where she was sitting.

Internally, she let out a sigh of relief that it wasn’t Junsu, then ended up debating whether or not she was to drop the facade around Jungwoo or keep it. Too much and he’d report to Junsu; too little and he wouldn’t be convinced. It was a hard balance to keep, and she had never been good at acting.

He was carrying a plate. Hei watched as he stalked across the room, face set in the same expressionless mask, before he set down the plate down right next to her. 

“Eat,” Jungwoo said.

A loaf of bread and a glass of water. It could’ve been better, but it also could’ve been worse, and Hei was too hungry to care. She lifted her wrist, the chains uncomfortably heavy, though she forced herself to ignore it as she reached for the bread. At least it wasn’t stale, and at least there was water. She had to admit that despite the fact that she’d been chained, it was much better than the conditions had been on Jaekyung’s ship, even if Junsu was a much more dangerous enemy.

“Thanks,” she told Jungwoo, eyeing him. Hei had no idea where she was supposed to start if she were to convince him. She wondered if there even was a place to start. 

Jungwoo solved the problem for her. “Why did you come here?” he asked.

The bread wasn’t stale, but it was dry. Hei reached for her cup and swallowed. “I thought I told you and Junsu.”

Jungwoo’s eyes flashed. “Junsu buys it,” he said, “he thinks you’re naive, and that that works the best for him because you’re some airhead that’s scared of a little bloodshed.”

“And you think I’m not?”

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