“Sire.”

Junmyeon did not so much as glance Minseok’s way. The stack of scrolls on the table in front of him seemed never-dwindling, which was rather dismaying when he had foregone lunch in favour of seeing them dealt with. He had maybe an hour left before – 

“Your Chosen is missing.”

His hand stilled above the parchment, but he paid no heed to the ink from the pen slowly seeping through to the wood underneath. “What?”

“Someone took him, Junmyeon.”

The shadows have been banished to the edges of the room by the lone candle sitting on the table in front of him. Next to it is a pitcher with wine, half of its contents gone. There is little else he would rather do right at this very moment than consume what remains and send a servant for more until it grants him the blessed inebriation it promises – but he can’t. He knows he can’t. However much he would rather not face the world, he must resist the sweet temptation and remain sober.

Already he is at war with himself, hatred swelling behind his ribcage at all the things he could have done but did not: He could have sent Jongdae sooner; he could have gone himself; he could have assigned guards to protect Baekhyun; he could – 

He could have done many things.

 The least he can do now, because he owes it to Baekhyun, is make certain he is clear-headed upon Baekhyun’s return to the palace.

A sudden impulse rushes through him, an urge to seize the pitcher and throw it against the nearest wall to hear it break into pieces, but he reins himself in before his hands can do much more in his lap than twitch. He is no child. He must deal with the situation as an adult.

As the king he is supposed to be.

A king who failed to protect the person he loves most in this world, but a king nonetheless.

He catches murmurs from behind the closed doors, but he doesn’t strain his ears to truly listen. He gave the servants firm orders to deny anyone access to his chambers this evening, and he knows they will obey his command. However, there are three individuals who could overrule his orders, and of those three…

“Sire, Her Heavenly Grace, Queen Gahyeon, is here to see you,” Dokyun, his head servant, announces, his voice carrying clear if a bit muffled due to the paper-thin walls between Junmyeon’s study and the waiting room. He hears the doors slide open, but does not look away from the pitcher.

“Junmyeon.”

He gives no visible reaction to hearing his queen’s call of his name, but she knows he has heard her, and he listens to the soft footfalls and the hem of her clothes brushing across the floor as she approaches him. A hand falls onto his shoulder, there for only a fraction of time before she rounds the table and elegantly sinks into the seat opposite him.

Gahyeon is righteous and intelligent, a better woman than he had dared hope for to rule alongside him. She will never have his heart the way many wish for in a marriage, but that doesn’t bother her and never has. He is struck with, not for the first time nor the last, how fortunate he is to have her as a friend and confidante. His own parents were not particularly friendly with each other from what he can remember of the time when they were both alive.

She is taking him in, her gaze wandering down his face with a shimmer of concern in her dark eyes. He stares back silently. He knows he looks sickly; he feels sickly. A frown mars her forehead (before their wedding her skin had been perfectly smooth, but now she is starting to show signs of worry wrinkles).

Finally, having seen enough, she asks, “How are you faring?”

His stare falls once more to the pitcher of wine and he gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Truly, I suppose I am faring about as well as one would in my position.”

She wets her lips, silent for a moment as she considers her words. Junmyeon almost smiles; Gahyeon has never been afraid to speak her mind around him, which is a trait he has always loved and one of the reasons he chose her. “They will find him, Junmyeon. They will bring him home.”

Junmyeon hates himself for thinking, What if they bring home a corpse?

“I am concerned for you,” she says quietly when he offers nothing more than a grimace. The images of Baekhyun’s corpse threaten to fester in his mind, and he desperately needs them not to. “You went behind everyone’s back and allowed an assassin to go free. He may come back for your life.”

“I know,” says Junmyeon. “You would have done the same in my position.”

She purses her lips, but allows a dip of her head. “You know I am not accusing you of making the wrong decision.” 

He knows that. Gahyeon had supported him fully and been by his side when he announced his decision to his ministers. She had helped quieten their protests, and afterwards she had helped empty the parts of the palace needed to ascertain Yifan’s quiet departure. The rumours would spread to the farthest edges of the kingdom soon enough, but Junmyeon wants to bide time before he announces to his citizens his decision to release Yifan in exchange for Baekhyun. 

“You must be careful,” Gahyeon says.

He smiles. It feels a little hollow, a little wrong, but he does it because he thinks it will soothe her heart. If not much, then some, and some is enough. “I will be, Gahyeon. I am always careful.”

She gives another little nod, and apparently also she is finding it hard to resist the siren song of the wine, because she leans forward and grabs the pitcher. She offers a wry smile, a drier yet, For our sleep, and lifts the pitcher to her lips. She swallows a mouthful, two, three, and puts it back down on the table, wherafter she daintily folds her hands in her lap where they are almost swallowed up by the layers of fabrics. She is only half a head shorter than Junmyeon, yet, to him, her clothes have always made her seem smaller. 

“They will bring him back before midnight,” she says, sounding so very sure of herself and Jongdae and the young Zitao he left with. He doesn’t have an answer for that (he knows they will be back, but what if his beloved is reduced to nothing more than a corpse?), which she takes in stride. “Do you want me to stay?”

He doesn’t even need to give it any consideration, and because she knows him, neither does she need an answer.

So she stays, and he waits.

There was little left of the house Baekhyun resided in with his parents and younger sister but ashes after the abductors had paid their visit. His family had survived, thankfully, because they had been at the market when the thugs came for Baekhyun. Only half an hour later and Baekhyun would have been picked up by Jongdae to meet with Junmyeon at the palace, if just Junmyeon had sent Jongdae sooner –

It wouldn’t have mattered, and Junmyeon had been told so enough times by Minseok and Kyungsoo and everyone else that he might eventually, some day, start to believe them. The thugs had to have planned the abduction of Baekhyun for a while according to the guards Junmyeon approached, so if Jongdae had caught them red-handed, not even his quick wit and Gift could have saved him from their daggers and Fires.

The following morning, after a sleepless night of arguing with Minseok and worrying himself to tears, a ransom note was brought to him.

Release Yifan of House Wu or the King’s Chosen suffers the consequences.

You have until dawn tomorrow to make a decision.

A messenger will be by the docks awaiting your answer.

Minseok had, justifiably, been vehemently against it and had argued his case with Kyungsoo and Jongdae backing him up.

“That man almost killed you, Junmyeon!” he said as he paced a hole in the floor of Junmyeon’s private study. “We cannot allow him to just walk away unscathed! He is sentenced to death. A man like him will come back for you. Please, Junmyeon, I beg of you.”

“You will protect me as you always have,” Junmyeon replied. He sighed. “What other choice do I have, Minseok?”

“There is always a choice,” Jongdae said, but he was the one amongst them most inclined to support Junmyeon’s decision even if it went against his vow to protect Junmyeon with his life. He had never expressed it, but Junmyeon knew, could see it in his eyes, that he blamed himself for Baekhyun’s abduction. Junmyeon hadn’t gotten around to assuage those concerns yet.

“Yes,” he conceded, “but I cannot choose the option that will save my life but damn his. There will be other assassins and they will care naught of Wu’s fate. But someone else cannot take Baekhyun’s place.”

Kyungsoo cleared his throat, “With all due respect, Sire –”

This early in the morning after a sleepless night and in the presence of his bodyguards and friends, Junmyeon had little left for decorum. “Heavens, I abhor that phrase.”

“Sire,” Kyungsoo said, tactfully disregarding Junmyeon’s muttering, “you shouldn’t give in to their demands. You are releasing a traitor to the crown, to you, after he almost murdered you. I implore you, Your Grace. We can rescue Baekhyun without bowing to their will.”

“Can we?” Junmyeon asked, eyes hard as he looked between them. “They have everything to gain by offering me this exchange, but they have little to lose should I reject it. I have everything to lose.”

“They want Wu alive,” Minseok interjected, and to Junmyeon it was obvious that even he was grasping at straws. “Surely that means we have some leeway. His mother could be behind Baekhyun’s abduction. Her only son is facing execution –”

“What does it matter?” Junmyeon demanded. “It is distinctly possible that Kuaihua organised this entire scheme – but what does that change? She wants her son, and to get him back, she is threatening me with Baekhyun’s life. I cannot afford to say no. She is a cruel woman, and if I refuse her terms, she will find another way of getting her son back.” His voice trembled (his body shook) when he said in a broken whisper, “And then I can only hope to find Baekhyun’s corpse.”

“Sire,” Minseok said, but Junmyeon held up a hand and shook his head.

“I will discuss this no further. You will carry out my orders, or I will find someone else who will.”

And so Minseok had delivered the letter to the messenger at the docks. Wonshik had sent a tail after the guy, but his men had lost him after an hour. Instead they could only wait for the abductors (many hands pointed to Kuaihua as the culprit, but the Wu household had heaps of loyal-to-a-fault servants who could also have staged the abduction, and still there were Yifan’s friends and supporters to take into consideration) to give Junmyeon new instructions, which they did the next day in much the same fashion as the first.

With the addition of a tuft of hair matted with blood and tied together with a red ribbon. 

On the eve of New Moon, you will Wu to the clearing in the Falcon Woods.

Here we will make the exchange, Wu for the King’s Chosen.

Only one person is to accompany Wu to the rendezvous point. 

Failure to meet our terms will seal the fate of the King’s Chosen.

Minseok, Kyungsoo, and Jongdae had begged Junmyeon to grant Jongdae, who had been chosen to carry out the exchange whilst Kyungsoo (and Minseok, in his own way) stayed behind to protect Junmyeon, permission to bring someone to shadow the criminals after the exchange. Junmyeon had allowed it, but only after the three of them had convinced him that Zitao of the Royal Guard (despite having less than a year’s experience) and his Gift would be able to stay undetected no matter what tricks the thugs had up their sleeves.

Junmyeon would never forgive any of them if they compromised Baekhyun’s life, but they knew this, and Junmyeon trusted them more than anyone in the world.

It still made waiting no easier. Left with no choice but to trust the words of traitors, he could only wish Jongdae (and Zitao, albeit Zitao had made sure to vanish from sight before they went to get Yifan) good luck as they left that new moon afternoon, five days after Baekhyun’s kidnapping.

“Your Chosen will be your downfall,” Yifan said, standing tall next to Jongdae despite the chains dragging his limbs down and slowing his movement. There was a sombre gleam in his eyes even as Jongdae glared at him for speaking up – and with such an ominous threat, at that. “He is your weakness, and that weakness will be preyed upon until one of you is dead.”

Junmyeon’s hands twitched towards his abdomen, but he fought down the urge and instead met Yifan’s eyes unflinchingly. 

Minseok, standing by Junmyeon’s side, took a menacing step towards Yifan. “Quiet, or I will run you through,” he growled, his fingers hovering dangerously at the hilt of his sword.

Yifan merely smirked and allowed Jongdae to take him away without saying another word – not that he needed to. Everyone present knew no one could lift a finger towards Yifan for fear of Baekhyun suffering the consequences.

“They will be back,” Minseok said as they watched the duo grow smaller and smaller until they were out of sight. “And Baekhyun will be with them.”

Junmyeon had to believe that. There was little else he could do. “I will be waiting in my quarters.”

He needed time alone.

Gahyeon is a silent support for Junmyeon, who hasn’t slept well at night since Baekhyun disappeared. It is past midnight, he’s certain, and he’s so tired but he has to stay awake (he doubts he could even fall asleep if he tried, or if he did, he would wake up soon enough with a cry stuck in his throat) until Baekhyun returns. He has to see him, has to know if he’s all right, has to be there for him.

(If Jongdae brings back a corpse, someone is going to have to stop Junmyeon from chasing down Yifan and his fellow traitors in a suicidal rage.)

The candle has almost burned all the way down. It will extinguish itself in the next hour, and then there will be only darkness and silence left. Gahyeon’s hands cradling his own keep him together.

The wine still tempts him.

Outside, murmured voices reach his ears, and hope flares bright in his chest, to the point of being painful, only to fizzle out when he recognises the voice.

The doors slide open once more to admit – “Her Divine Grace, Dowager Queen Hyoson, Sire,” Dokyun announces, and the doors close between him and Junmyeon’s grandmother.

Gahyeon gets up to pay her respect to the dowager queen (she has sat in the same lotus position for hours; she must hurt, but her face betrays nothing of the sort) while Junmyeon remains in his spot. His grandmother is strict, that may be true, but never so strict as to punish her only grandchild for something so trivial. Chastises, perhaps, but Junmyeon cannot find in himself the will to care.

He listens to his grandmother's approach and watches with dull eyes as Gahyeon sinks back into the lotus, her face neutrally polite as Hyoson comes around the table so she can get a look at Junmyeon.

She takes him in, much like Gahyeon had done hours (days? It feels like days, like several eternities of waiting waiting waiting) earlier, pursing her lips and shaking her head. “Junmyeon, child, you must not forget your own health even in light of what is happening around you. You must be strong where others falter.”

“I am,” he says, but he is not.

Hyoson looks at him in silence for a while, and then releases a sigh. She clasps his shoulder tenderly. “Your boy will be fine, Junmyeon. Have faith in his determination to return to you.”

Silence reigns once more, and the flame flickers.

It isn’t that he fears death, per se. It is, after all, the one thing in life that is certain: To be granted the chance at life, one must also eventually die. As a king, the odds that he will take his last breaths staring into the eyes of an assassin or vomiting as he convulses on the floor as poison steals away his life are distinctly higher than if he were born common. The commoners have other concerns, certainly, but as it stands, he knows that his last moments in this world will probably be agony. Few kings pass peacefully.

His own father eventually gave up the fight against the disease that had taken root in his lungs and spread from there. In the end, worn down and barely more than a shell of himself, he had succumbed to death, at ease at last, and the kingdom had mourned his loss but celebrated the coronation of a new king, Junmyeon sitting for the first time in his father’s throne at the age of twenty.

That was three years ago, and now Junmyeon wonders if he will live past twenty-four.

The candle is burning its last by the time a disturbance outside garners their attention. Gahyeon sits up straight as they both turn to look towards the doors just as they slide open to admit Minseok. It cannot be more than a few minutes since Hyoson left for bed (Junmyeon had interpreted the look in her eyes as she gave them a glance, but the words You should do the same never passed her lips).

Minseok only manages to form the words, “Jongdae got him,” before Junmyeon is getting up – and stumbling due to vertigo, black spots dotting his sight, Gahyeon’s hand around his elbow probably the only thing keeping him upright. He blinks the spots away and marches straight up to Minseok.

“Where?” he gets out, and if he sounds anguished, desperate, he doesn’t care. Baekhyun isn’t here, and Minseok’s announcement was too evasive, which Junmyeon takes to mean that Jongdae did indeed find Baekhyun, but not that Baekhyun is well, or even alive – 

“Jongdae took him straight to see Yixing,” Minseok says softly, and Junmyeon’s heart sinks into his gut as he pushes past Minseok, past Dokyun and a handful of worried servants and a stone-faced Kyungsoo. He is practically running by the time he reaches the corridor.

Yixing has his quarters not far from Junmyeon’s own, and Junmyeon cannot remember a time where he has ever been more grateful for that than he is now. It takes him less than two minutes to reach the doors to Yixing’s quarters, to Baekhyun, but Minseok, who followed, pulls him back before he can open the doors. Junmyeon, if Minseok hadn’t physically seized him by the arms, would have punched him in the face.

“Release me,” he demands, orders, begs, but Minseok refuses.

“Yixing must not be disturbed, Sire,” he says, and although he sounds apologetic, the reason Junmyeon isn’t yet reduced to biting and scratching to get out of Minseok’s hold and open the doors is the memory of his father’s disapproving face. “Baekhyun’s life is in his capable hands now.”

Jumyeon’s ears ring and he chokes the first time he tries to speak, but eventually manages to say, “His life?”

Minseok’s mouth purses, and Junmyeon sees the war wage behind his eyes.

“He was… hurt when Jongdae found him,” Minseok divulges, but that isn’t enough. Junmyeon strains in Minseok’s hold, but Minseok has always been stronger than him, and even Junmyeon’s most desperate attempts are foiled by Minseok’s years of training. 

His teachers’ (and Minseok’s) drillings on decorum and posture are completely forgotten when he is this close to Baekhyun.

“Junmyeon, please,” Minseok says, easily drawing back from Junmyeon’s teeth while somehow still maintaining his restricting grip on Junmyeon. “You must stay out of the way.”

“Tell me,” Junmyeon demands, briefly giving up the fight so he can pin Minseok with the nastiest glare he can muster. “How hurt is he? Tell me,” he nearly shouts when Minseok still hesitates.

“They tortured him,” Minseok admits, sounding pained himself, which is nothing to the way Junmyeon’s world starts to crumble. He feels faint, and Minseok’s hold on him changes from restraint to support in a heartbeat as Junmyeon slumps in his arms. “Junmyeon!”

“They tortured him,” Junmyeon moans. “What for? I released Wu as they asked!”

“Yixing will save him, Junmyeon,” Minseok says, and he sounds a little desperate. “Yixing saved you, and he will save Baekhyun as well. There is nothing he cannot do.”

That is a blatant lie, but one that Junmyeon refrains from pointing out (if he does, he might jinx everything and then Baekhyun will die).

“By the Heavens, Junmyeon, when did you last sleep?” Minseok says as he hefts Junmyeon into his arms. Junmyeon would have felt ashamed if he hadn’t been this exhausted, hadn’t been wrecked with fear, hadn’t been – “Why haven’t you been taking care of yourself?”

“How could I sleep when I knew Baekhyun was out there somewhere, being tortured by those traitors,” Junmyeon says, brokenly. “How could I enjoy a full meal when Baekhyun could have been starving? How could I not worry?”

“Worrying yourself sick will do neither of you any good,” Minseok murmurs. Junmyeon realises while Minseok talks that he’s taking them somewhere. It takes him a tellingly long time before it dawns on him that they’re heading back to his own quarters. But Baekhyun is not – 

“Stop,” Minseok says, and Junmyeon ceases his struggles. “The best thing you can do for Baekhyun right now is to get some rest. How do you think Baekhyun will feel if the first thing you do upon seeing him is collapse?”

Junmyeon is desperate, but he has enough sense to see reason in Minseok’s words. “I will sleep,” he says, “but you will wake me up the very moment I may see Baekhyun. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Good.” The black dots are back, and Junmyeon is tired (of fighting and worrying and fearing and hating –) and allows the tendrils of darkness to pull him under.

He doesn’t know for how long he sleeps, but when he blearily blinks his eyes open and looks up at Minseok’s frowning face, he knows it has been nowhere near long enough to satisfy Minseok. Still, Minseok always keeps his promises, even if he does not agree with them.

Junmyeon does not run this time, but it is not far from it. They reach Yixing’s quarters and Junmyeon gives a single knock to alert the occupants of his presence before he opens the doors and steps inside.

Yixing hasn’t had time to clean up, which, at least, must mean that Minseok left to get Junmyeon the very moment Yixing had finished up (not that he had any doubt, but he still likes being confirmed every now and then in what he already knows to be certain). Junmyeon appreciates it, but he might have appreciated more not seeing the splatters of blood on Yixing’s clothes.

His throat is dry, and he feels sick, but he greets Yixing and asks, “Where is he?”

Yixing takes them to one of the rooms, and Junmyeon stills in the doorway as he, finally, lays his eyes on Baekhyun for the first time in almost a week: He will not be surprised if he finds grey hairs the next time he dares look into a mirror.

But he cares naught for grey hairs when Baekhyn is here right in front of him. There are bandages covering his eyes, his head, his hands, small nicks and bluish or greenish bruises here and there appearing even starker against the pale complexion of Baekhyun’s normally sun-kissed skin; it is drawn and clammy now, which probably means Baekhyun has been held captive in a place without access to the sun this entire time. 

Junmyeon commits the sight to memory, serving as a punishment to himself for being unable to protect him, but also so he knows exactly what Baekhyun suffered through when he gets his hands on the sad excuses for human beings who did this to him. 

He approaches the bed slowly. A blanket hides most of Baekhyun’s body from his eyes, which… is good, he supposes. The yearning for revenge is tearing at him, but there is nothing he can do that he hasn’t already done or plans to do. 

“Minseok,” he says. “I trust soldiers have already been sent out to scour the kingdom for Wu and his people?”

“Yes, Sire. Captain Wonshik is leading the search.”

Junmyeon nods along and settles on the edge of Baekhyun’s bed. “Yixing,” he says, quietly. He longs to take Baekhyun’s hand in his, but he refrains from fear of doing more harm than good. They are both bandaged, but the one closest to Junmyeon is also splinted.

Yixing, needing no more prompting, comes to stand on the other side of Baekhyun as he speaks. And the more Yixing says, the sicker Junmyeon feels, the blood gradually draining from his face with every word.

Minseok mentioned torture, and Junmyeon had firmly reined in his mind until he saw for himself just what had been done, but this –

Baekhyun’s back as well as the back of his thighs have several lashes (of which half are infected and would have caused undue pain) as a result of flogging, but due to bruised ribs Yixing decided against having him rest on his stomach. When he wakes up, Yixing says, they will figure out what causes Baekhyun least pain and take it from there.

That aside, four of the five fingers on Baekhyun’s left hand are indeed broken, hence the splint. There is evidence of what Yixing assumes are several beatings. He believes Baekhyun has had little to nothing to eat in the time of captivity, because his body is clearly malnourished and he has lost weight. His temperature is high due to fever, which a lung infection is partially to blame for. 

“He will survive, Your Grace,” Yixing says, finally, which is a relief, “but what they have done to him… I dare not say how that will affect him. You must be careful.”

“What about his eyes?” Minseok asks in Junmyeon’s stead. Junmyeon’s tongue is in knots, his ribcage threatens to crush his heart, and his eyes burn.

Yixing’s voice remains low as he says, “The left one will suffer no lasting damage, but he will essentially be blind on the right. I am sorry. It is the best that I could do. When he wakes up, I will be able to do a more thorough check.”

Minseok clears his throat and asks, “Will there still be an eye?” Junmyeon notices Minseok’s hesitant look towards him, but he says nothing.

“Yes.”

Junmyeon watches the blanket rise and fall as Baekhyun breathes. 

Small mercies.

On Minseok’s orders, Yixing gives Junmyeon a tonic to help him sleep for a few hours, but night terrors chase him into the darkness. He is unable to stop the men as they flog Baekhyun until his back is in bloodied tatters, cannot do anything but cry out as they shatter the bones in his body, can only watch and sob as they crowd around him and leer, can do nothing at all as they carve out his eyes even as he screams, screams for Junmyeon to do something, to please, please, please please please please help help –

Junmyeon wakes up, and his throat is hoarse, and he’s yelling, and he’s crying, and the servants and Jongdae crowding him make him sick and –

And he decides he shouldn’t try to sleep in his own quarters again.

It takes the servants, once Yixing has given his consent, less than an hour to transform a few of Yixing’s spare rooms (they are reserved for his patients, but his main priority is the royal family and the palace has another wing for physicians) into a study and a bedroom for Junmyeon to use while Baekhyun recovers. The bedroom is done on Minseok’s request; Junmyeon had only asked for a study so he could catch up on the responsibilities he has neglected (some of which he knows Gahyeon, blessings upon her, has seen to in his absence) while Baekhyun’s fate had still been in his tormentors’ hands. He had figured dozing at Baekhyun’s bedside when he needed a break would suffice, but he supposes he should have known better when Minseok spared him a single world-weary glance before calling a servant over.

He appreciates, truly, the people around him for caring. This is not the first time he has disregarded his own health in favour of other, more important matters (Minseok never fails to roll his eyes when Junmyeon wakes up after a fainting spell and proceeds to defend his priorities to Minseok’s face, which makes Junmyeon laugh because Minseok is usually always so composed), and it won’t be the last despite everyone’s valiant efforts. He knows he has improved vastly since the first year of his reign, where it was a daily struggle trying to live up to his father’s name, but he is far from perfect, and as a result his loved ones worry.

He spends the rest of the day by Baekhyun’s side. Minseok helps him sort through the documents he had a couple of servants fetch from Gahyeon and together they leaf through them. Minseok has a good head on his shoulders, and Junmyeon relies so much on him that he has nightmares about the day when Minseok is no longer a constant in his life like he has been since Junmyeon became king. He sometimes has to rein in his mind to stop it from diving down the path of the many ways he could lose Minseok.

Junmyeon knows he will have to face his ministers again tomorrow, so he spends a few hours with Minseok pouring over the documents before he calls for a break. He sends Dokyun to get one of his favourite books, one he knows Baekhyun enjoys as well, and once he has it, he settles on the chair by the bedside, turns to the first page, and begins to read.

Yixing had said that Baekhyun had been too out of it when Jongdae (haggard but otherwise all right after the exchange; Junmyeon feels awful for not remembering to seek out Jongdae and see how he is faring) had appeared at Yixing’s quarters. Baekhyun had been lost in the throes of fever and pain, and by the time Jongdae had put him in the bed, he had mercifully slipped into unconsciousness. For how long he would remain asleep, Yixing could not say, so Junmyeon had armed himself with patience.

Yixing had told him that talking to Baekhyun could help alleviate the instinctual panic that would doubtlessly grip Baekhyun when he first woke up and met only darkness (the bandages would have to stay on for well into the next week), and realised he didn’t know where he was or where his tormentors were. Asleep he might be, but Junmyeon’s voice could potentially reach him still and calm him.

Even if Yixing hadn’t specifically told him to use his voice while around Baekhyun, he would have done so regardless.

He hopes Baekhyun’s rest is without dreams, or at least that they are good and sweet. Baekhyun is finally safe, so it isn’t fair if his days of captivity haunt him still in the form of nightmares where he won’t be able to tell what’s real and what’s not.

Privately, he hopes the sound of his voice can bring Baekhyun out of his slumber. 

So, he reads.

He limits his meeting with the ministers to three hours from morning until noon where they can attend to the most pressing matters at hand. Afterwards, Gahyeon is there to handle the rest in Junmyeon’s stead while Junmyeon takes his work to Yixing’s quarters to be near Baekhyun.

With Baekhyun safe in the bed next to him, if still asleep and recovering, the vortex of anxiety that had overwhelmed him upon the news of Baekhyun’s abduction has fizzled out into a more manageable state of worry. Yixing, Gifted from birth with Mother Nature’s Kiss and a Healing Touch, had been appointed to Junmyeon as his head physician just one year before Junmyeon ascended the throne, and since then he has saved Junmyeon’s life at least twice, with the most recent incident being Yifan’s attempt not five months ago.

There is no doubt in Junmyeon’s mind as to Yixing’s capabilities: Weak his Touch may be when faced with something that is not a wound, something that does not bleed, but then he has potent salves and tonics and other mixtures of herbs he Grew himself. 

When Yixing says Baekhyun will survive, Junmyeon trusts him. He lost a lot of blood during his captivity, but with bed rest and good nutrition he will be right as rain in a few weeks. Knowing this gives Junmyeon the peace of mind he needs to focus on ruling the kingdom. 

Still, he prays Baekhyun wakes up soon. Yixing’s main concern had not been Baekhyun’s physical recovery, and Junmyeon is anxious to see just how Baekhyun will react to finding himself back at the palace and safe from his tormentors. Junmyeon knows – partially from having encountered victims of torture before, partially from having been at would-be assassins’ mercy himself – that Baekhyun will have scars that no eye can see, but he has no way of knowing how many or how substantial they are until Baekhyun wakes up. For now, he can only imagine and fear, and pour himself into work to avoid losing himself to his own imagination.

He reads through the reports he brought along, pausing every now and then to note something down in his own documents or in the reports themselves. Time passes and evening rolls around. Minseok brings him food after he tried and failed to convince Junmyeon to join Gahyeon and Hyoson for dinner. Junmyeon instead convinces Minseok to have dinner with him in his temporary study. 

Minseok sticks around until Jongdae arrives to relieve Kyungsoo of duty. Junmyeon is reading for Baekhyun when Jongdae announces his presence with a rap on the door, and he glances up from the page long enough to offer Jongdae a nod. He is distantly aware of Jongdae beckoning Minseok outside, which leaves him alone with Baekhyun.

He finishes the chapter and closes the book in his lap quietly. His gaze settles heavily on Baekhyun, studying what is visible of his face before moving to his still-bandaged hands. He longs to hold them, but Yixing’s Gift does not extend to miraculously mending broken bones with nothing more than a Touch, albeit it does speed up the healing process substantially. For now, Junmyeon can Baekhyun’s arm.

“Will you awaken soon, my light?” he murmurs. “It has been too long.”

Baekhyun does not wake up, nor did Junmyeon expect him to.

“Sire?”

Junmyeon feels the corners of his mouth pull up into a smile as he turns to look at Jongdae. “Jongdae. How are you faring? I hope you will forgive me for not inquiring sooner.”

“I understand, Your Grace,” Jongdae says, eyes resting on Baekhyun for a spell before he looks at Junmyeon again. “I am well. How is Baekhyun?”

“He is recovering,” Junmyeon says quietly. “That is about all that I can say.” He narrows his eyes at Jongdae. “I am not letting you off the hook that easily. How are you, truly? Be honest with me, my friend.”

Jongdae averts his eyes and shrugs. “My mind torments me with thoughts of what I could have done to avoid this.” 

He stares at Baekhyun, and with Junmyeon not saying anything, it does not take long before his composure finally gives way to frustration and regret. “I know I probably could not have stopped them, that I am alive now because I wasn’t there, but I still… I still think about it. I cannot help it. If I had gone earlier, I could at least have been there. I could have tried. If they were distracted by me, perhaps he could have escaped.”

Junmyeon does not allow the ensuing silence to reign for long before he says, “You must know that I would rather have both of you alive.”

“At what cost?” Jongdae asks, gesturing at Baekhyun with his hand. His face twists. “I… Junmyeon, when I arrived at the clearing for that damned exchange, he was hardly conscious. One of those barbarians had to carry him, and knowing I could do nothing…” He emits a small, wounded sound. “Heavens, I didn’t even know if they would go through with the exchange without doing more harm. My muscles hurt for hours because of the tension.”

It is with some hesitation that Junmyeon says, “Tell me about it. I know from Minseok that Kuaihua was not there, but he still suspects she is pulling the strings; he never liked her, and I think he was a thorn in her eyes. It is not a far-fetched thought that she might be behind this. How many were waiting for you?”

“Three,” Jongdae says. “Two others were hiding somewhere in the surrounding brush, so five in total. Dark, nondescript clothes. One of them was a Null, but I couldn’t tell which one of the five it was. Only two of the three spoke, and both were male. I had no way of telling the genders of the rest. In short, it is anyone’s guess who they were. I did not recognise them.”

A Null. It rang a bell, Minseok mentioning it in passing, but Junmyeon had probably been too busy worrying about Baekhyun to really register the gravity behind Minseok’s words. 

It is not overly surprising to learn that Yifan has dangerous allies. The presence of a Null in his close circles does not bode well, but at least it makes sense: If there had been no one to stop Jongdae, he would surely have burned every single one of Yifan’s goons, as well as Yifan himself, to crisps, and grabbed Baekhyun. 

Yifan has never been stupid, however, and Junmyeon realises that Minseok will probably soon start to push the idea of more guards. 

There will be time to worry about that later, so instead he asks, “And Baekhyun? Did he say anything?” He tacks on before Jongdae can answer, “Both of you said he only fell unconscious later.”

“I wouldn’t say he was conscious before either. Awake, perhaps, but his mind was somewhere else.”

Junmyeon falls quiet. He watches the rise and fall of Baekhyun’s chest for a while. A small part of him wants to know all the details about the exchange, but Minseok has already given him a report (probably straight from Jongdae himself), and he isn’t convinced he can stomach any grizzly details Minseok might have omitted for his sake. Knowing the extent of Baekhyun’s wounds is enough for now. 

Instead, he asks, “Have you heard from Zitao?”

Jongdae has moved closer to the wall and now leans against it, arms crossed. He shakes his head. “No. Not a word.”

Junmyeon purses his lips. “Might they have caught him? With Wu’s Null…”

“I doubt it,” Jongdae says; the corner of his lips even pulls up into a small self-satisfied smile. “A Null cannot sense another Null. I reckoned he would prove quite an asset should I spot an opportunity to detain Wu’s goons without risking any harm coming to Baekhyun, not to mention as general protection.” His smile turns sheepish. “You told us not to take any risks, and I promise you I would have never done anything if I had had even the slightest doubt. Regardless, we did not predict the presence of another Null, which effectively razed all potential ideas to the ground.”

He grimaces. “Having a Null tap into your Gifts is a horrible experience. It left me feeling hollow.” He shakes his head. “I digress. No, I have faith that Zitao will return with answers, once he has them.”

“I will take your word for it then,” Junmyeon says. He hums and tilts his head towards Jongdae, regarding him pensively. He knows Jongdae means what he says, that he would have never considered doing anything that could possibly have harmed Baekhyun, so instead of further remarks on that subject, he directs their talk to something else, if related. “I intend to assign a few guards to Baekhyun once he is able to leave this room. Might you have any suggestions?”

Jongdae wets his lips and looks thoughtful for a moment. “Have you heard of Chanyeol?”

“I believe so,” Junmyeon says. “Youngest son of Lord Park?”

“The very one. He is proving quite talented with any weapons thrown at him, particularly swords and bows, and he is Gifted with Fire. He volunteered for the Royal Guard a few years ago and has shown much dedication since. Professionalism aside, he is loyal and pleasant company.” Jongdae purses his mouth. “Baekhyun might benefit from having someone like him around. I imagine it will feel less like he’s being nannied and more like he has a friend or a puppy always nearby should he have need of it,” he says, not without a pointed look at Junmyeon.

Junmyeon raises an eyebrow. “Very true.”

He had thrown a tantrum when he was eight upon learning that he would have someone watching his every move from then on. As a child not even old enough to be left alone regardless, that fit of temper had been exaggerated – but his eight-year-old self had been in the middle of a phase where he thought himself capable of everything, so to be told that another person would be assigned to him had stirred his emotions. As he got older, he came to care less about his shadows, knowing they were there to protect him should the need arise, and he still has his privacy when he so wishes; they will be close by, but not necessarily in the same room.

In his adult life, he has been reminded of his childish behaviour so many times that he no longer feels embarrassment whenever someone – usually his guards or Minseok – decides, for whatever reason, to jog that particular memory.

It is a good point Jongdae makes, however. Junmyeon may have long since gotten accustomed to his bodyguards, but Baekhyun is not Junmyeon, even if he has been around royalty for a few years. He might not feel comfortable having someone always looking after him. 

“So. Chanyeol,” Junmyeon says, humming. He glances at Baekhyun (still sleeping, chest rising and falling peacefully) before looking back at Jongdae. “Would you tell him I wish to see him sometime in the coming days when you get the chance?”

“Certainly,” Jongdae says.

“Good. Do you have anyone else in mind?”

Jongdae emits a thoughtful sound. “I will need a day or two to consider, if I may.” 

“I have one in mind,” Junmyeon admits, smiling gently when Jongdae aims an inquisitive look at him. “You and Baekhyun were friends before I knew either of you. You are a powerful Gifted and I have seen you fight for yourself and for me on several occasions. If you were to become his guard, I would rest better at night.”

Jongdae looks at him in stunned silence, which, despite everything, Junmyeon cannot help but find amusing. Eventually, Jongdae finds his words and asks quietly, “Are you certain? I… I feel like I have let both of you down recently.”

“Quite the opposite,” Junmyeon soothes. “I recognise the guilt on your shoulders, you must know. I blame myself for allowing this to happen in the first place.” He draws in a breath, grateful when Jongdae lets him put into words what has been on his mind since Baekhyun was caught without cutting him off with some nonsense about how he shouldn’t be feeling what he does. 

“I should have seen it coming: I should have known my love for him might endanger him. I should have assigned guards to him the moment I decided to let everyone know that he is my Chosen. I should have done a great number of things, but nothing can change what I did and did not do. I cannot allow the guilt to consume me. 

“No, we can only look forward now, and learn from our past choices. Like me, you could not have known, and therefore I do not hold you responsible for anything that happened.”

Jongdae doesn’t seem to want to look at Junmyeon, his gaze sweeping around the room but never settling anywhere for long. “You know I like to pick him up earlier than the time agreed upon,” he murmurs, “and Baekhyun is usually all set when I get there even if I am early. But that day, I had errands to run. If I had finished them faster…”

“Errands I sent you on, if you remember,” Junmeyon says. “You are not to blame for that.” He tacks on, hoping Jongdae will recognise it as the jest it is meant to be, “Perhaps you are suggesting I am to blame?”

Jongdae pulls an expression that does nothing good for his otherwise handsome face. “No. Never.” He sighs. “I am aware I shouldn’t beat myself up over this. It takes time to convince myself, however.”

“I know,” Junmyeon says. “I know.”

“All right, well. Say I am assigned to Baekhyun,” Jongdae says, “then who will protect you?” His brows pull into a frown. “Wu is most likely already back to scheming with his of a mother.” 

Jongdae shares Minseok’s sentiment when it comes to Yifan’s mother: Kuaihua is a cunning woman whose thirst for power makes her dangerous. Her husband committed suicide in prison about eight years ago after being caught doing illegal trading, and as a result the Wu family lost some of its credibility. Kuaihua had been somewhat close with Junmyeon’s father, but after her husband’s arrest she was no longer a frequent guest at the palace, albeit she retained her household and most of her privileges. 

That household, however, was long gone by the time soldiers arrived in the immediate aftermath of Yifan’s attempt on Junmyeon’s life. No one heard a peep from any of the Wus until an observant knight unexpectedly stumbled upon someone who fit Yifan’s description in a small town far from the capital and detained him.

Kuaihua remains unaccounted for, and Yifan had at no point during his short imprisonment mentioned her. Still, Junmyeon wonders if she would really allow Yifan another attempt at his life if she is behind his release: The Wu name has already been thoroughly tarnished, so even if it turns out she is an innocent in this complot, the most she can hope for is being allowed into a noble’s household as a servant or a nanny, and even that is unlikely as few nobles would want to be associated with the mother of a would-be king-killer.

Alas, the question of security. Junmyeon tuts. “Now you are being silly.” He gives a one-shouldered shrug. “I still have Kyungsoo and Hakyeon, and occasionally Taekwoon. We must not forget the rest of my Royal Guard and the palace guards. If anything happens, they will flock to protect me.”

He leans forward in his seat, eyes not really focused on anything in particular as he says, “I intend for Baekhyun to stay with me for good after this, and I am looking for a place for his family that is close by. With Baekhyun here at the palace, you will be around me often enough, so not much will change on that front. The one thing that will change is that you are to first and foremost protect him, not me. I do not care who is with me or who is not; Baekhyun will be your main concern, even if Wu himself has a knife to my throat.”

“Junmyeon,” Jongdae says, the protest heavy in his gaze and tone of voice, but Junmyeon does not allow him the chance to speak.

“No. If you accept my proposition to become Baekhyun’s guard, I will hold you responsible if anything happens to him when you’re supposed to protect him. I will not, however, blame you for leaving me to die, if that is what you must.”

“If you allow me or Kyungsoo to pick my replacement, then…” Jongdae pulls another unbecoming expression. “You must understand that I am honoured to know that you would ever consider me capable of protecting Baekhyun. I just, frankly, do not fancy your terms.”

“Alas, that is what I require.” Junmyeon looks at him, fully aware of the responsibility he is placing on Jongdae’s shoulders. “Do you need time?”

Jongdae is quiet for a moment as he takes in the sight of Baekhyun on the bed. “No. No, I do not. I will protect him, Your Grace.”

Junmyeon smiles and caresses Baekhyun’s arm. “I thought you would. Thank you.”

“I hope you will take into consideration my choices for my replacement, however,” Jongdae says. “Likewise, I assume you want one or two more guards for Baekhyun?”

Junmyeon nods. “You and Chanyeol will be enough while Baekhyun is on bedrest, but in the future, when he has healed – yes, by then I want at least one more to relieve you and Chanyeol of duty when necessary. I will not run you ragged by having you work twelve hours each and every day.”

“It is rare that I think of my duty to you as work, even if being here means I am on high alert and ready to drag you to safety,” Jongdae says, with just the right dose of cheek to make Junmyeon break into a smile. “I am always on guard even if I see you off-duty.”

Junmyeon tuts. “You and Minseok both work too hard,” he says, and ignores Jongdae’s rather pointed raised brow. “Your duty to me takes you away from your wife and daughter for hours at a time while Minseok has never shown an interest in finding someone to settle down with. You are missing out on your daughter’s infant years because of me.”

“I am not by your side every hour of the day,” Jongdae says, laughing. “I have ample time at home with them, and while I love them, I am also devoted to you and your protection.” He nods his head at Baekhyun. “And his.”

He shakes his head and looks at Junmyeon again with a smile. “I am not missing out on anything. I would rather say I am living my best life yet, with all the joys and sorrows that come with it.”

“You deserve a good life, Jongdae,” Junmyeon says. Jongdae must sense the earnestness behind Junmyeon’s words, because he looks down and shuffles his feet. “I just wish Minseok would soon get to experience the same happiness you have.”

“Minseok is a no-nonsense kind of guy,” Jongdae says. He grins. “He is so dedicated to you that any spouse he chooses will have to settle with being second.”

Junmyeon frowns. “I should hope not.”

Jongdae laughs, and then gives a little shrug. “When the day comes that someone sweeps him off his feet, I do believe he will devote his entire being to them. He puts his heart and soul into everything he does, and I doubt that is going to change when he finds someone to love.”

“He does, doesn’t he.” Junmyeon shakes his head and chuckles.

Meanwhile, Baekhyun still sleeps. Junmyeon hopes their voices soothe him.

Fun fact #8: I chose Baekhyun to be Junmyeon’s Chosen despite many volunteers (cough) because he’s basically what got me into writing EXO again – and I come from writing another fic in which I see potential between them despite them having not met yet (and probably won’t meet until after the fic is done in behind-the-scenes), so. There’s that, whoop.