Baekhyun stared unblinkingly at the spectacular platters of beef and pork and even soft shelled crab. Drool lurked at the corners of his lips as he beheld the splendor. Kyungsoo elbowed him, hard.

            “Can you not?” Kyungsoo whispered furiously.

            Baekhyun swallowed hard. “But it looks so good,” he whispered back, eyes still trained on the table. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes, “You make it sound like we haven’t ever eaten well in our lives.”

            Baekhyun retorted, “Well, certainly not in recent months. If I eat another yam, I think I would explode and all you’d find inside me would be yams.”

            Close by, old Mister Song heard their exchange and chuckled charitably. “Please, help yourselves,” he said merrily in his booming voice. “This is all to thank you, you must eat!”

            Baekhyun hardly needed more a second invitation; before Kyungsoo could blink, his companion’s chopsticks had already landed in the nearest platter, picking up a large piece of braised pig trotter. Kyungsoo rubbed at his temples as he watched Baekhyun gobble it up.

            To his other side, Jongin observed Kyungsoo’s mounting frustration bemusedly, though not without some degree of wistfulness. He too wished that Kyungsoo would pay him some attention, and his eyes followed Kyungsoo’s every move, as if begging the smaller boy to turn his way.

            To no avail. All it fostered were disgusted eye rolls from an unimpressed Taemin.

            The dinner was in full swing soon enough. The Song dining room, like the rest of the estate, was a grand affair. It was filled with several large round tables made of top notch wood, and around the tables sat all the wives and sons and daughters and grand children of old Mister Song. Servants carried in platters of the best food in town and stealthily refilled wine cups as soon as they emptied. The old maxim of silence while you eat was heartily ignored as cheerful chatter echoed through the room.

            Kyungsoo and Baekhyun, along with Taemin and Jongin, had been ushered to the largest center table despite their heavy protests and old Mister Song had personally poured their wine to express his gratitude. To Mister Song’s side sat his beautiful daughter Naeun, who smiled shyly if somewhat blandly as she surveyed her guests. Taemin glanced her way more than once, but she remained blissfully unmoved.

            Kyungsoo felt mildly uncomfortable in these grand surroundings and he ached to hide from the curious glances of the rest of the family. But Baekhyun had adjusted easily enough, digging into his dinner with gusto, seemingly unbothered by their forced predicament. Baekhyun’s attitude soothed Kyungsoo somewhat, but he nevertheless sat at the edge of his seat as old Mister Song spoke to Taemin and Jongin, asking for their names—“Just Tae Min,” “And I am Kim Kai”—and their background—“Mere commoners, is what we are.” Cold sweat rained down his back when the Song patriarch finally turned towards himself and Baekhyun and asked, “And where do you gentlemen hail from?”

            After a moment of hesitation, and after he realized that Baekhyun was too busy chewing to answer, Kyungsoo quietly volunteered, “My name is...is... is Do Soo! And this is my friend...uh...Byun Hyun.” To his side, Baekhyun choked on a mouthful of rice at Kyungsoo’s uninspired disguising of their names but quieted upon receiving Kyungsoo’s swift glare. “We come from the north. We were....f-farmers.” Kyungsoo’s large eyes shifted uneasily to the side as everyone at the table looked at him in surprise. “Yes, that’s right, farmers,” he repeated. “But we left the farm because...because...”

            “Because of drought,” Baekhyun cut in smoothly with a forlorn look, after finally swallowing his food. “We’re younger sons, you know, and our farms just couldn’t support all of us because of the drought. You know how it is up there, long winters and dry summers.”—Mister Song nodded at this—“So Ky-er-Soo and I decided to look for work in the south, maybe even across the border, make a living for ourselves and the like. We hear the land is cheap there and the weather is more ideal for this sort of endeavor.”

            Mister Song nodded again in agreement. “Absolutely, young man. That’s very courageous and I commend you. It’s uncharted territory across the border, you know, full of jungles and little fiefdoms ruled by barbarians.”

            “Well, what can you do,” Baekhyun sighed, piling on the theatrics, “beggars can’t be choosers, as they say. Little Soo and I will just have to try our best to make it.”

            Mister Song clucked sympathetically, “Yes, I can tell you are both honorable and brave. Should you run into hardship, please let me know how I can help.” The old gentleman so bought into Baekhyun’s story that he had mostly forgotten the discrepancy between the two young men’s farming background and their oddly pale and delicate skin.

            Others were less forgetful. After swallowing mouthful of fish, Taemin said: “But you don’t look like farmers. At all. Nor do you talk like farmers.”

            Baekhyun frowned at this. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said stiffly. “You and your friend here hardly look like commoners either, and yet you insist you are.”

            The strategic statement quickly turned Mister Song’s attention back to Taemin. He regarded the young man with a cheerful smile. “Yes, do elaborate on what it is that you do. After all, you are to be my son-in-law!”

            Taemin winced. “Sir, I must insist that—that is, I am no match for your daughter. As I said before, my friend and I are merely commoners”—at this, Jongin nodded in agreement—“not so different from Do Soo and Byun Hyun here. We have come to the south to do business. Our fathers are small shopkeepers; we want to find some merchandise on our trip to bring back to our town. Surely we cannot bring Miss Naeun with us, nor can I expect to take her away from you to my hometown, it being so far away. Today, when I fought the butcher’s son, I merely performed my duty as a man; I do not dream that I could wed your daughter. She deserves much better!”

            At this, the old man guffawed heartily. “Oh, silly boy, do you take me for a peasant? When I wed my daughter to you, I will of course provide a sizeable dowry. And being a merchant myself, I will of course facilitate your family’s business! You have no need to bother yourselves with business in the south!”

            “No, but we must!” Taemin insisted. “We must...that is, we must prove our worth as men! I can hardly accept your generosity, Sir.”

            At Taemin’s fervent refusals, Mister Song’s face darkened a tad, revealing his shrewd and unforgiving nature. Losing his friendly smile, he said flatly, “Tae Min, what is the meaning of this? You have won the battle and you shall take my daughter as wife. That is your duty as a man, so that both she and I do not lose face. What do you think the town will make of her if you refuse!” He pounded his fist on the wooden table in rage. “Undesirable, disposed garbage, that’s what!”

            Everyone stopped mid-bite, taken aback by Mister Song’s uncouth outrage. Taemin and Jongin glanced at each other uncertainly, Baekhyun’s chewing slowed, and Kyungsoo’s large eyes rolled round and round as he tried to gauge the situation. Only Naeun continued smiling placidly, placing a soothing pale hand on her father’s arm to calm him down. “It’s quite alright, Father,” she said in her sweet voice. “I’ve told you all along, I hardly need to marry. And Mister Tae Min is right; I couldn’t leave you to go so far! In any case, I would certainly miss running the business with you.”

            “Stuff and nonsense,” grumbled Mister Song, “I’ve let you dilly dally with your martial arts, but you are a girl after all and you must find your husband. It’s Tae Min’s honor to take you as his bride, and he will.” Then, to add a final touch, he said, “And if he will not, he shall meet his demise here, so that your pride will not be sullied.”

            A dangerous tension descended upon the room. Suddenly, Kyungsoo noticed that a pack of the family’s well-trained guards hovered at the door of the dining room, hands wrapped securely around their swords or spears, ready to move on a moment’s notice. He nervously tugged at Baekhyun’s sleeve, but Baekhyun merely smiled and continued eating. It was, after all, not their fight.

            Taemin felt less confident. He turned to Jongin questioningly, as if to ask whether they should make their exit now. Jongin shook his head. In his quiet, deep voice, he said to Mister Song, “Sir, Tae Min means no disrespect. He shall certainly wed your daughter, if that is your wish. Only, is the wedding to take place today?”

            The bristling old man took comfort in these words and calmed a bit. “That sounds more like it. Of course, the wedding shall not take place today, nor shall I keep you for too long. I have consulted with the grand priest at the temple and have set the wedding three days from now, when there will be an auspicious alignment of the stars and the moon.” He glanced witheringly at Tae Min, whom it seemed he had not yet learned to trust. “And you, my son-in-law-to-be, you shall reside on the estates until the wedding occurs. The tailor shall make you the best groomsman robes that money can buy. And of course, you all must stay too,” he said, motioning to Jongin, Kyungsoo, and Baekhyun. “It shall be a grand wedding.”

            Jongin nodded compliantly. Kyungsoo began to protest, but Baekhyun interrupted and accepted the invitation with gratitude. With a wink, he whispered to Kyungsoo, “Free food and housing, why not?”

            And that was that.

            Kyungsoo and Baekhyun were situated in their own guest suites, complete with room and gardens. Under the bright moon and sparkling stars, and to the accompaniment of crickets and owls, they sat at the stone table in the courtyard’s small pagoda, sipping tea and gnawing on sweets.

            “I can’t believe you’re still eating,” Kyungsoo said with a sideways glance at Baekhyun.

            Baekhyun popped another small cake in his mouth and mumbled, “We have to eat while we have the opportunity.” He offered a cake to Kyungsoo, but the latter shook his head with some repulsion.

            “I couldn’t eat anything right now if I tried,” grumbled the smaller man. “Baekhyun ah, I’m so worried.”

            “Oh, why’s that?”

            “What do you mean, why’s that? Have you forgotten we’re on the run? And now we’re stuck here on a rich man’s turf. Surely he has government connections. And do you see how many guards he has? We couldn’t escape! What would we do if—”

            “Oh please,” said Baekhyun with a wave of his hands, “The most dangerous place is the safest place. Old Song is so preoccupied with this wedding business he barely has time to think about us. If we’re lucky, we can rest a few days here, stock up on some provisions, and take off to the south like we’d planned. It’s perfect.”

            Kyungsoo looked unconvinced. “But what if—”     

            “Kyungsoo, stop. Nothing will happen, and if anything does, you still have me.”

            With a smile, he took Kyungsoo by the wrist and gently dragged him out the pagoda to the patch of grass by the pond. He himself plopped down on his back and motioned for Kyungsoo to do the same. Hesitantly, Kyungsoo also lay down on the soft green carpet. He took a deep breath and let his lungs fill with the scent of autumn.

            “Yah, Do Soo,” Baekhyun said cheekily, “When was the last time we stargazed?”

            Kyungsoo wrinkled his brows and thought about this—it had been awhile. Before, back when they still live in the northern plains, where the stars always felt particularly close during the summers, he and Baekhyun used to stargaze all the time. It was their escape from the ice cold palace with its watchful eyes and its sharp elbows. In the plains they were free.

            The last time they stargazed?

            It was the night before they were to leave. Their clothes were packed and the horses were ready and their entourage was set. They were to set out the following morning at dawn in a grand procession from the capital—a procession that marked that end of Kyungsoo’s childhood, one that would lead him away from his homeland forever.

            That night was like this one, Kyungsoo’s heart heavy with anxiety and grief. Baekhyun had dragged him from his room, pretending not to see his reddened eyes and trembling lips. The two lay side by side on the long, reedy grass of the high plains, staring at the ever-present stars in the black, black sky.  

            You should go. Run away, or something. No one would notice. Kyungsoo had said to Baekhyun, voice barely audible.

            And Baekhyun had frowned, as if insulted. Yah, Do Kyungsoo, do you think you could survive without me?

            Don’t be stupid, Byun Baekhyun. Just go.

            You’re the one being stupid! I’m not leaving you like this, obviously. Then, in a softer, kinder voice, I’ll help you. We’ll get out of this together. I promise. Don’t you trust me?

            And that was when the tears started falling. Because there was no one in the world Kyungsoo trusted more than Baekhyun.

            But it wasn’t, in any case, one of the manliest moments of Kyungsoo’s life. Stiffly, he replied to Baekhyun, “I don’t remember.”

            Baekhyun snickered but didn’t press him. Instead, he reached an arm over and drew Kyungsoo closer. “Don’t worry, I’m still here, aren’t I? We’ll be fine.”

            Kyungsoo didn’t respond, but pressed closer to Baekhyun.

            Some time later, Baekhyun picked up a sleeping Kyungsoo in his arms and transported the smaller boy to their bed. The movement must have disturbed Kyungsoo at least somewhat; his handsome brows drew together in discomfort. Baekhyun lazily patted Kyungsoo on the back as mothers do to newborns until the younger fell again into deep sleep.

            In the silent darkness, Baekhyun contemplated their predicament. He felt a sense of uneasiness, even though he had downplayed it before Kyungsoo. They would try to make it to the southern border, of course, and he hoped that Mister Song would gift them some provisions to help them on their way. But Kyungsoo was right. If Mister Song even so much as suspected anything was wrong, they could be caught; it was a gamble they would have to take.

            And what would they do once they crossed the border? He glanced down at the peaceful face of Kyungsoo nestled at the crook of his arm and almost chuckled. He couldn’t imagine that face laboring under the hot sun, planting yams. It was too inconceivable. And yet there seemed no other possibility; they would have to remain commoners, forever hidden among the masses, now that they had run away.

            He had not expected this to be his life. Byun Baekhyun, he was once the handsome, spoilt son of one of the wealthiest merchants in the kingdom of the north. He had the world at his fingertips and wanted for nothing. Then one day, everything changed. His father was charged with treason, their property confiscated, and he himself made a slave. He could still remember that day he knelt before Kyungsoo, could still remember the large round eyes staring at him with fright as he was beaten unconscious.

            And they were also the eyes that greeted him when he awoke in a soft bed, not unlike the one they lay in now. It was Kyungsoo’s bed, not one for a slave such as he. It was only later that Baekhyun learned that the king had wished to throw his corpse out with the wolves, but Kyungsoo had quietly asked that he be preserved. The king acquiesced, not particularly concerned with the issue of young Baekhyun either way. Dead or alive, he and his family were no longer a threat to the king’s power.

            So it was Kyungsoo who directed the servants to clean his bloodied body and move it to Kyungsoo’s own sparse room. And it was Kyungsoo who sat by him, tending to his health and curiously wondering if this slave of his would make it through after all and relieve him from unrelenting loneliness. And so it was Kyungsoo’s large eyes that Baekhyun first saw when he came to again.

            Baekhyun was never sure if Kyungsoo saved him out of pity or mere boredom, but either way, it somehow came to be that Kyungsoo became the one constant in his life.

            A quiet knock on the window drew Baekhyun out of his reverie. Though to call it a knock would perhaps be an overstatement; it was such a quiet tap that only those exceptionally skilled martial artists whose ears were attuned to the flow of air could have picked it up. Fortunately, Baekhyun was one of those people. He gently disentangled himself from Kyungsoo and quietly plodded out of the room.

            The courtyard outside was empty, and the night air was still, but Baekhyun could nevertheless feel the presence of another being. He glanced up sharply and spotted a dark silhouette outlined against the nearly full moon. With a light jump, he leapt onto the red brick roof to confront the shadow.

            “Well, well, farmer Byun,” said the stranger with light mockery, “you’re quiet skilled at this for a poor crop planter.”

            Baekhyun rolled his eyes. “Cut the crap, Kim Kai, if that is your name. What is it you are looking for?”

            Jongin, for indeed it was he, laughed quietly. “Friendly, as always.” Baekhyun shrugged.  

            “It’s like this, Byun Hyun, if that is your name. Taemin and I leave tomorrow night while everyone is distracted with wedding preparations. I can’t reveal more, other than that someone will bring us horses and provisions to help us leave.”

            “And what’s that to do with us?”

            “We have a proposition. Let us not be obtuse; we both know neither of us are true commoners. Taemin and I have a task to accomplish at the southern border. Given your wushu skills, but more importantly, your clever talking, we think you could be of help to us. That is, we might need to win some friends, and you might help us do that.”

            Baekhyun narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What’s in it for me?”

            “We’ll provide you and your little friend protection along the way. You’re hiding from something or someone, aren’t you, and that’s why you wish to cross the border? Well, we’ll make sure you get there,” Jongin said with an easy smile.

            Baekhyun clenched his long fingers into a fist. He stared hard at Jongin, as if trying to bore into his soul. “How do I know to trust you?”

            Jongin answered this nonchalantly. “Aren’t we your best option right now? Or do you wish to keep creeping in forests and stealing to get by as winter hits?” With a taunting smile, Jongin added, “And even if you so wish, are you sure your friend with his delicate skin can take it? It’s a long ways to the border for those on foot.”

            Baekhyun remained silent as he considered the option. Meanwhile, Jongin was already stepping off the ledge, about to disappear into the night. “Think about it, Byun Hyun, and let me know your answer.”

            Kyungsoo opened his eyes blearily when Baekhyun slid under their bed covers again. The cold air that lingered on Baekhyun’s body displeased him. A small whine distorted his sleepy voice as he said, “Baekhyun ah, where did you go?”

            Baekhyun drew Kyungsoo in his arms again for warmth. He didn’t respond right away, and as the silence wore on, Kyungsoo’s eyes drooped closed again. When he was sure that Kyungsoo had fallen asleep, Baekhyun lightly traced his fingers against Kyungsoo’s face, etching its outline in the dark. He wondered if he had found their ticket out, or if they would be jumping headlong into an inescapable trap. 

***TBC***

A/N: School has started! T_T Busy busy, but will strive to update :) As always, I enjoy all your comments and hope that you continue liking the story! Let me know your thoughts :D