Chapter 21: What I saw by the sea, Part 1

A/N: Many thanks to everyone who has left feedback! Very helpful when I get stuck (which is often lately…)

"Hak-sama." Quiet footsteps approached and stopped at his side. "I don't think the Shin warship will spontaneously burst into flames, no matter how long you glare at it," Chun-ja said.

"No, but a man can hope." Hak rolled stiff shoulders and tried to relax his jaw. It didn't really work. Along the Kousuisen's southern bank, the Shin warship tugged on its anchor in the convergence of the river's currents and the press of the sea. The setting sun cast long shadows of the ship's masts and hull against the far shore.

The Wind Tribe warrior and captain pushed strands of brown hair from her face, her beige robes rippling in the wind. She held her spear loosely. "Tae-woo-sama will be glad to hear you think he's expendable."

"Pfff, he'd be fine. He can swim."

"And that dragon playboy friend of yours?" She cocked a brow, amusement in her eyes.

Hak shrugged and didn't answer. Droopy Eyes was the very least of his concerns. The rising wind pushed stiff grasses against his ankles and tossed the hem of his robes.

Chun-ja exhaled, her face smoothing. "It bothers you this much? Deferring to that man. Is that why you're standing here alone with a death grip on your glaive?"

He glanced down at his white-knuckled grasp. When he tried to loosen his fingers, his hand cramped and ached. "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad to let him assume the risk." The thought of letting Yona board the warship brought him a visceral discomfort sharpened by flashbacks of Awa. —Of hours that crawled by, his heart thudding in his ears as he waited for her signal in the night… But Hak didn't like standing on the same side of anything as Soo-won, even if it was about Yona's protection.

"You're worrying her, you know. Your wife."

Guilt settled in his gut. He looked back over his shoulder. The grassy plain ran from the edge of the cliff to the cluster of Wind Tribe tents where his wife and the others busied themselves setting things up for the night. Yona, her scarlet robes shifting at the behest of the breeze, flashing like fire in the dying sunlight, was easy to pick out amidst the sea of Wind Tribe blues and browns. At that very moment she was watching him, her frame obviously tense. She looked away as soon as their eyes met. …Not wanting him to see her concern. Hak sighed.

"She keeps glancing this way," Chun-ja said.

Hak rubbed his forehead with cold fingers. "Did she ask you to come over here?"

Chun-ja shook her head, the strands of beads and feathers she wore against her face making a quiet tapping sound. "You have this aura of murderous intent about you. Or didn't you notice?" She flicked a hand. "It's why they're all keeping their distance."

There was, indeed, a rather large buffer that had formed between him and the other Wind Tribe warriors who lined the edge of the cliff, watching the Shin warship or milling about on patrol. It figured that only an older sister type would be willing to brave the foulness of his mood.

"This isn't like with the Sei, Hak-sama," she said, giving him a pointed look. "We're not the ones outnumbered here."

"I know." He lowered his hand. "I keep trying to remind myself of that."

Chun-ja's lips quirked. She lifted her spear and bopped him on the head with the end of it. "Try better."

Hak snorted and batted her weapon away with his own. "Yes, Elder."

Annoyance flashed on her face. She flipped her spear around, threatening his nose with the tip of it. "Watch it, you brat. I have stories, you know. Lots of stories."

He chuckled despite himself, his anger fading to a low simmer that wouldn't ever be gone—not with Soo-won near—but it was good enough. "Those two," he said, jerking his chin in the direction of the pebbled shore where the two Shin officers waited under the watchful gaze of Wind Tribe warriors. "Were they here before?"

Chun-ja followed his gaze, relaxing her weapon. "Ki-nam was—the one with hair. He was Mi-jung's right hand when her contingent was stationed here. As for the other…" She shrugged. "Haven't seen him before."

Hak nodded. By body language alone, the two officers seemed at ease and unconcerned. Perhaps that was a good sign with regards to their intentions…or perhaps not.

Movement from the ship caught his eye—the hatch opened and Shin crewmen climbed down to prep the skiff. The Wind Tribe warriors, including Tae-woo, followed. Then Soo-won, Joo-doh, Soo-won's guards, and finally Droopy Eyes and the Shin lieutenant general. Hak straightened. "Looks like they're done."

Chun-ja hummed thoughtfully, watching the small boat set off across the river.

Hak left the embankment, headed for the cluster of tents.

Yona was just setting down a basket of dinner supplies when he approached. She looked up, wearing the shuttered, strained expression he'd seen on her face often since Soo-won had shown up. "Hak—"

Without slowing his steps, he looped his free arm around her waist and scooped her off her feet, hauling her behind the tents and out of view of the others.

She squeaked, clutching his shoulders. "Hak?"

He set her down but didn't let go, tangling his fingers into her hair and covering her lips with his before she could protest. Hime. The warmth of her mouth and the gentle, familiar fragrance about her allayed the harsh emotions swirling inside him. That, and the way she leaned into their kiss, making a soft sound in her throat as her hands splayed against his chest.

When they parted, he wrapped both arms tightly around her. "I'm sorry for interrupting whatever you were doing. But I needed this."

Her breath gusted warmly against his neck. "It's OK, Hak." She circled him with her arms, embracing him back just as fiercely. "I was worried."

"I know. I'm sorry, Hime." He stroked the tight muscles of her back through her robes. "We're both tense."

Yona nodded. She leaned back to look at him, the fading sunlight gleaming off the long falls of her earrings. When she smiled it wasn't with her usual radiance, but it was still a smile and it still settled his heart. Her violet eyes softened. "But being together helps."

"Mmm." He squeezed her gently.

"Even before we got married you used to do this. Hug me randomly like this."

Hak smiled. "Nothing random about it, Hime. Holding you makes me feel better."

Yona's face brightened, pink staining her cheeks. "Hak—"

He exhaled and set his forehead against hers, the mirth leaving him. "Especially right before something unpleasant."

She twitched in his arms, her face smoothing. "They're back?"

He nodded.

Yona drew a breath and slipped her arms around his neck. "An extra kiss for luck then," she said, rising on her tiptoes and claiming his mouth.

Hime. Hak clutched his wife tightly against him, savoring her love.

-x-

From the edge of the sea cliff, Hak watched the group disembark the boat on the shore below. Tae-woo and the other warriors wore shielded, neutral expressions, carrying their weapons close, while Jae-ha looked mildly irritated, as if he'd tasted something too sour or smelled something disagreeable. Soo-won, however, hadn't moved. The king stared out towards the distant horizon where the sun dipped to touch the sea, his expression unreadable. A brush of wind sifted through his hair. One of his guards leaned close and spoke to him. Only then did Soo-won turn his gaze from the horizon and climb out of the boat.

Hak's mood darkened. Anything could be going on in the king's head when he looked like that. I don't like it, Soo-won. His fingers shifted absently to a better—more lethal—grip on the pole of his glaive.

Yona stood beside him, tense and silent, the rest of her dragons at her back.

As Tae-woo led the way up the narrow path to the top of the rise, Joo-doh's stiff movements caught Hak's eye. The general looked disheveled, his expression beyond peeved. Hak lifted a brow. Joo-doh held his swords awkwardly, his thumbs wrapped around the hilt guards, his fingers holding their sheaths. At the river's edge, the two Shin officers exchanged brief words with the Shin lieutenant general. They boarded the skiff and headed back to their ship.

Upon reaching the rise, Tae-woo stopped in front of Hak, planting the end of his spear into the grass. He snorted. "Mi-jung's her usual charming self. You'll meet her when she comes ashore for dinner."

Jae-ha joined them, pushing his fingers through his hair, a slight grimace on his face. "Charming isn't the word I'd use, Tae-woo-kun." He lowered his hand. "Yona-chan, you'll forgive me if I seek fairer company to alleviate the taste of bile in my throat." The dragon's gaze shifted beyond them to touch on several of the female ranks of the Wind Tribe army.

Hak glanced at Chun-ja who was eyeing Jae-ha in return with obvious mistrust. "They're all armed you know. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Yona frowned. "Was it that bad, Jae-ha?"

The green dragon smiled. "Nothing I wouldn't do a thousand times for your sake, my dear." Jae-ha lifted his hands in an exaggerated, innocent gesture. "A soft, gentle voice and pleasant conversation are all that I seek." The dragon slipped between him and Yona and made a sweeping bow, pressing his fingers to his chest. "How lovely to see you again, Chun-ja-chan."

Good luck with that, Hak thought.

"Don't even start with me, darling," Chun-ja said, her voice lowered and lips quirked. She perched a hand on her hip.

"Ah, your sweetly spoken threats are music to my ears, my lady," Jae-ha said, straightening.

Chun-ja snorted and rolled her eyes.

The green dragon took that as an invitation to continue, leaning closer, glutton for punishment that he was. "Just seeing your lovely face comforts my aching heart."

The tip of Chun-ja's spear stopped him, prodding the center of his chest. "I don't suppose you have scales here, do you?" She arched a brow. "Hime-sama, if I skewer this one and take his hide home to my husband, will you mind?"

"I won't mind," Hak said.

Jae-ha ignored him, grinning and lifting his hands to the clasps of his robe. "Well, since you asked…"

Yona folded her arms. "Jae-ha!"

A brusque sigh killed the mood. "Typical antics of the Wind Tribe. I see nothing has changed."

Hak froze at the sound of that voice.

Soo-won moved past them without slowing, a flutter of white robes, his eyes flicking over the group dismissively. "Tae-woo Shogun, I'll borrow your command tent."

"Uh—ahh." Tae-woo said, blinking and then spinning on heel to follow.

Hak exhaled slowly, adjusting his fingers on his glaive.

Yona tensed, her hands falling to her sides and curling into fists. "Soo-won."

The king paused and glanced back at her. Hak saw no trace of Soo-won's usual airheaded manner in those pale eyes. "Yes, Yona? You've already been informed that Queen Mi-jung will be joining us for the evening meal."

She drew herself straight, her mouth thinning into a line. "I expected a little more of a report than that."

A frosty smile curved Soo-won's lips. "You want that from me, cousin?" His eyes glittered. "You sent your spy. Ask him."

Soo-won. Rage shot through Hak's limbs. His glaive left the ground.

The king's gaze slid to him. "Our truce is still in effect, Hak."

Hak leveled his eyes at the man. "Until it isn't."

Soo-won shook his head and turned away. "You've never had any sort of control over your emotions, my friend. You might want to work on that." And he strode off towards the command tent, Joo-doh and his guards falling in with him.

Only where you're concerned. Hak stepped forward—

"Hak." Yona reached out and touched his arm. Her face was white with anger, but concern shone in her eyes. "We…" She looked away and lowered her voice. "We shouldn't let him get to us."

Hak glared at Soo-won's retreating back. "If he were toying with us, Hime, I'd agree with you. …But that's not what this is." Something was very off.

Her face clouded. "What do you mean?"

"Stay here." He gently lifted her hand from his arm. "I'll just be a minute."

"Hak." Her brow furrowed deeply.

This is one of those times, Hime. He let her see the hardness in his eyes. Trust me.

Defiance warred on her face for a moment…then she lowered her hand. Exhaling, she turned away. "Kija. Go with him, please."

Hak pursed his lips but didn't argue. The white dragon, who had managed not to speak to him directly in weeks, merely dipped his head and moved to follow.

They caught up with Soo-won as he ducked into the command tent. Inside, a table scattered with maps stood at the back. Lining either side of the tent were uneven stacks of crates, some empty, some filled with supplies. Other crates sat in front of the table as makeshift seating.

The king looked around and sighed. "I knew it would be too much to ask for you to have a proper chair."

Tae-woo's face smoothed. "I can have one brought down, Heika, if you wish."

Soo-won shook his head, flicking one wrist. "No need. I doubt these proceedings will go on long enough to warrant the effort." The king approached the table, skirting the crates. "Joo-doh Shogun, your swords please."

General Joo-doh, still holding his swords in that awkward way, didn't move from the entrance. He eyed Hak and Kija. "Heika…"

Hak held the general's gaze evenly.

"Yes, General, I know the Thunder Beast has joined us."

Joo-doh snarled and tore his eyes away. He jerked his swords—or his hilts, rather—from his sheaths and approached the table.

Hak lifted his brows, watching in silence.

The general laid the severed hilts on the table and removed his sword belt, upending the scabbards. The blades clattered onto the surface.

Soo-won leaned over the table. "Hak, come look at this."

He exhaled at so casual a summons. Beside him, Kija tensed, his face shuttered.

Hak closed to the table, holding his glaive on his right, between him and the king. He watched as Soo-won matched each hilt to its severed blade. The swords had clean breaks just inches from the guards, through the thickest part of the blades.

"I knew Shin steel was purported to be the best and it costs a fair bit, but I never imagined…" Soo-won's voice was quiet, conversational.

Hak pressed his lips, guarding himself mentally. "The queen did this?"

Soo-won nodded. "It was kind of her to offer a demonstration. Very informative. Our negotiations tomorrow will, of course, not include such weapons."

Tae-woo leaned over the left side of the table, propping his elbows on its surface. "Twin short swords, Hak." He absently rubbed his jaw. "She was favoring her right hand today."

Hak shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me."

"Indeed it shouldn't," Soo-won said, his fingers skimming the blades. "You won't be fighting her tomorrow."

He lifted a brow and said nothing.

Tae-woo's eyes widened. "Heika, do you mean—"

"No, of course he doesn't," Joo-doh said, smacking his palm against the table's surface, making the sword pieces jump. "Heika, I forbid it."

Hak didn't care one way or the other. If Soo-won wanted to take on the Shin queen himself, why should he stand in the king's way?

Soo-won straightened, glancing at the Sky Tribe general askance. "You're not in any position to forbid me anything, Joo-doh-san."

Joo-doh's jaw twitched. "The hell I'm not. Would you take this seriously? That woman is likely to kill you."

In saying that, Joo-doh wasn't reading Soo-won correctly at all. Hak let his face smooth. Soo-won was dead serious. Hak could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Soo-won like this—the night Soo-won had murdered King Il being the most ready example. Anger rippled down his spine.

"It's disheartening that you place so little faith in my abilities, old friend," Soo-won said, waving his left hand towards Hak. "Remember that the Thunder Beast and I trained together."

"Not that I ever saw you win a sparring match," Tae-woo murmured.

Joo-doh glared at Tae-woo. "Stay out of this, Munchkin."

The Wind Tribe chief snorted and sputtered with laughter. "Pfff. Whatever you say, Mama Bear."

Hak heard smothered chuckles from Soo-won's guards. The king, however, ignored the merriment, his eyes once more studying the severed blades. The fingers of his left hand tapped idly against the top of the table. This close, Hak caught how short and misshapen Soo-won's fingernails were. Airhead Soo-won—that gentle façade he'd perfected since the fire—would have played along with all of the jokes. A fluid wave, an amusing quip to add, that airy laugh…

He studied the king hard and lowered his voice. "What's wrong with you?"

Soo-won glanced at him aside, a thoughtful look passing through his pale green eyes. The king drew a breath and released it slowly. "Generals, leave us for a moment."

Tae-woo straightened abruptly. Hak felt the chief's questioning gaze, but didn't bother to acknowledge it. The young general sighed and headed for the exit.

"Heika." Joo-doh scowled, causing the scar on his face to crease.

"You're of little use to me without your weapons, Joo-doh Shogun." Soo-won quirked a brow. "Perhaps Tae-woo Shogun would be so kind as to loan you Wind Tribe swords."

Joo-doh's face went ashen with rage, his entire body as taut as a harp's string.

"I've even less use for you if you can't follow orders, General."

Hak caught the pain that flashed in Joo-doh's eyes. It was masked by anger quickly. The general turned so fast his cape made a snapping sound and strode from the tent. …Leaving Hak alone with the king, with only Soo-won's guards and Kija still present.

In the quiet the followed, Soo-won adjusted his robes, shifting his sword out of the way, and sat on one of the crates that served as a chair. With his back towards the table, he stared off into the distance. "Nothing is wrong with me, old friend." A wry smile quirked his lips. "On the contrary, consider the novel position I find myself in. Everyone here knows what I've done—or suspects it—and already hates me for it."

Hak pressed his lips. "So why bother with the act."

"Precisely." The eyes that glanced his way were pleased. "You're the only one who can read me so well. Even these others—" Soo-won flicked a hand towards his guards "—and Joo-doh, only think they understand."

I'll never understand you, Soo-won. Hak's shoulders tensed. Don't pretend we think alike.

The king looked away again, his face darkening. "I'm sure my father rolls in his grave every time I act as ridiculously as my uncle."

Hak grit his teeth, his grip twisting on his glaive. "The uncle you loved and murdered, you mean."

"Yes," Soo-won said. "Love and hate go hand-in-hand, after all. I find it hard to tell the difference sometimes. Particularly with regards to you and Yona." The king lifted a brow. "Perhaps you know what I mean. Certainly Yona does."

His left hand flashed down on the edge of the table hard enough to take a chunk out of it. "As if it's nothing to you!" What you did to him, to us—

Soo-won didn't so much as flinch. "Is that how you injured your right hand, Hak?" The king's eyes flicked over his knuckles. The worst of Hak's wounds had healed, but scattered scrapes and lines of paler, knitting flesh remained.

He released his breath slowly, shaking out his fingers. I injured myself grieving what you've become. And hating myself for my part in it. "What about your nails, Soo-won? Was that a gardening accident?"

The king curled his hands, tucking his fingernails from view. His face hardened. "A moment of weakness, that is all."

"Weakness?" Hak lifted a brow. Was it possible—was it even at all possible that Soo-won might feel the tiniest bit of regret for what he'd done? No, surely any remorse the king would claim was a loss of conveniences and nothing more. He'd have to be human to feel anything else.

Soo-won exhaled and got to his feet, turning to face him. Amusement came into the king's eyes. "You haven't changed a bit, Hak. My advisor thought things would be different after you and Yona married. I'm not disappointed he's wrong." A cold smile touched his lips. "But really, Hak. Having her in your bed hasn't—"

—His glaive flashed. Several strands of Soo-won's pale hair fluttered to the ground. Seething, icy rage surging through his limbs, Hak held his blade under the king's chin.

Soo-won's guards sucked air. "Heika!"

The king flicked a hand towards them. "Stay there."

Hak pitched his voice low and deadly. "Don't think for a second a political truce will save you if you speak about her like that." From the corner of his eye, he saw Kija's expression—livid and cold. His claw coiled, the white dragon shuddered with anger. "Don't expect anyone here will intervene, either."

A few silent beats passed. Hak drew slow breaths, his stance low and ready, both hands nimble on the pole of his glaive. Soo-won's face was reflected in the polished steel. Just a few inches and it could all be over.

Soo-won lifted his left hand to the edge of blade. "Here, Hak." The king shifted so that the double points of Hak's glaive rested against his chest. Over where his heart would be if Soo-won still had one. Those pale green eyes burned into Hak's. "Do it."

A chill rippled down Hak's spine. His chest tightened, making breathing difficult.

"It would be perfectly fitting, wouldn't it? For you to end me the way I ended King Il. The way he ended my father." Soo-won lowered his voice. "My nightmares end. You and your wife gain the throne." The king closed his fingers around the glaive. Blood ran down its silvered edge. "But don't think this will satisfy you. Just like I can't forget about my uncle, you'll never be able to forget about me or let me go. In a sense, I'd live on through you until you died." Soo-won smiled. "I like that idea, Hak."

Hak froze, rooted to the spot, a cold tremor stiffening his limbs. Doubtless, Soo-won was taunting him. He was reacting perfectly, just like the king wanted. But—

Old memories flashed before his eyes. Soo-won as a boy—smiling and bright and innocent. Soo-won, after the fire, with that quiet, vacant look, all his sorrow walled off and hidden. Hak's stomach clenched with pain. You were my best friend! But I couldn't save you. He imagined Soo-won's robes blossoming with blood, his body growing cold, his eyes lifeless— It was a moment he'd fantasized about countless times in his rage. Because with Soo-won gone, everything was supposed to be better. Yona would gain the throne and rule with her dragons beside her. The kingdom would be at peace and he and Yona could raise a family without having to be afraid…

Ruby droplets scattered to the ground. Soo-won's eyes were shielded with layer upon layer of calloused numbness, but Hak could see the agony just beneath. His once best friend—maybe not wholly, but certainly in part—wanted desperately to die. The realization pierced him like a blade gliding between his ribs. Yona's words from months ago echoed in his ears. You saw how he's changed. I can't lose you like that, Hak! That's why I had to stop you.

Hak swallowed hard. You're both right. He'd failed Soo-won once already and that regret ran deep. The cost of revenge…could be everything. His heart cried out with fury and anguish in equal measure. But how can I just ignore what you did?!

Soo-won's face smoothed. "I don't understand why you hesitate, friend."

"…Let go."

The king sighed and loosened his grasp, dropping his bloodied hand to his side.

Hak withdrew his glaive and straightened, rolling his shoulders in a vain attempt to relax them. "It's not going to be that easy, Soo-won." He turned away. "Kija, let's go." He left the king glaring coldly at him and stepped outside.

In the cool, rapidly advancing dusk, Hak couldn't suppress a shudder. He expected to have to deal with Tae-woo and Joo-doh, but neither were nearby. Hak raked shaking fingers through his hair, more angry with himself than anything. For losing control…for letting Soo-won under his skin…for not realizing what it would all cost.

"Raijyuu." Kija stopped at his side, extending a damp handkerchief in his human fingers.

Hak studied the offered cloth for a moment and sighed. "Thanks." He lowered his glaive and cleaned Soo-won's blood from its edge. He stared at the swaying grass at his feet. "I almost…"

"You didn't. That's what's important." The white dragon held out his hand. "I'll take that."

Hak handed over the blood-smeared cloth.

"No one would've blamed you, though, if you had." Kija's lips pursed. "Not me. What did you see that stopped you?"

A harsh exhale left him. "It hurt. I didn't think it would." He averted his eyes. "Let's head back."

Kija followed in silence.

-x-

A crowd had gathered along the sea cliff—the Shin queen's arrival, no doubt. Tae-woo found him first.

The young chief studied him for a moment. "You're done then?"

Hak nodded. "Yeah."

Tae-woo eyed him a beat longer. "Alright." The chief exhaled. "The queen's ashore. She'll know you immediately, so be ready. I'll get him."

Ready for what? Hak lifted a brow, but his caring quotient for these proceedings was pretty damn low. An odd, detached feeling was settling upon him. If he were in his right mind, he'd probably be concerned, but as it was…

As Tae-woo headed off towards the command tent, someone else caught his elbow.

"Hak-sama." To Chun-ja's credit, she didn't comment when she saw his face. "The princess is this way."

"You managed to fend off Droopy Eyes?"

She scowled. "Of course. I can't say the same for Nami, though. She's taken a liking to him."

Hak sighed. Second Lieutenant Nami was a young, gregarious flirt. "Well, I won't tell her mother if you won't."

Chun-ja smiled.

Up ahead, Yona was standing in a cluster of her dragons (minus Kija) on the edge of the amorphous gathering of people. Shin-ah saw him first and turned to her.

The obvious worry on his wife's face broke his heart. Are you worried for my safety, Hime? …Or are you worried about what I might do? Yona didn't want Soo-won killed. By her admission, she wasn't going to forgive him for what he'd done, but he was still her cousin, still someone she had loved… Hak wanted to think it was solely righteous on her part, her insistence on a reign that didn't begin in bloodshed. But bleaker thoughts tugged at him. It hadn't been that long since the night in the mountain loft when Hak had traced the hair ornament hidden in her obi belt with his fingertips. Every time she'd gotten dressed for over a year, she had tucked it there, secure and close to her body. I don't doubt that you love me, Hime, but…

If he killed Soo-won, it would hurt her. She loved him enough that she might eventually forgive him, but the thought of causing her that pain was worse than him being unable to forgive himself. He'd never survive it.

As the noise of the crowd grew, pressing towards them, Hak drew a full breath, stuffing all those feelings down, burying them deep. He forced a smile. "Hime."

Oblivious to the darkness of his thoughts, relief cascaded over her features. "Hak—"

Before he could get to her, he was jostled by the flow of Wind Tribe army personnel around him. The mass of humanity parted and Hak found himself face-to-face with…a beast of a woman.

No wonder Droopy Eyes had looked desiccated. The Shin woman was barely an inch shorter than him, if that, with a wide grin of gleaming teeth splitting her face. Five rank marks, eyepatch…she had the kind of aura that would make lesser men wet themselves.

The queen's good left eye flicked over him. "The infamous Thunder Beast at last." She perched a hand on her hip, clad in the same black tunic and breeches as the dozen or so Shin officers and guards who followed her. And there were the swords Tae-woo had mentioned, strapped to her thighs.

Hak held his glaive with agile fingers. "Queen Mi-jung. My lord Tae-woo has spoken about you at length."

"Ha!" She folded her arms, a bemused look on her face. "The little Munchkin's got a mouth on him. Do you know what he said when I laid him out? 'You're lucky the Thunder Beast isn't here. If he was, he'd take you down in one hit.'"

Oh merciful… Bah. Hak rolled his eyes and quirked a brow, tapping his irritation against the pole of his glaive with his fingertips. "Did he now? Remind me to thank him when he gets back here."

Her gaze traced him again. "I'm eager to test his theory, Thunder Beast."

"Ehhh? I thought you'd come over for dinner."

Mi-jung flicked a hand. "Meh, formalities can wait. How better to work up an appetite than to work up a sweat first?" She cracked her knuckles. "What do you say? Bare fists, one hit each."

Hak sized her up in return. She was all muscle—no doubt about that. The breadth of her knuckles was just the size of the bruise Tae-woo'd had on his face. "How do we decide who goes first?"

"We'll flip for it." She gestured to the Shin officer on her left—four rank tattoos, a top knot, and an impressive sword on his hip. "Ki-nam."

The Shin general obediently produced a gold coin and laid it in her palm.

"Excuse me! No!" Yona pushed through the crowd, her dragons in tow. She was scowling fiercely. "I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but no. I won't allow this."

Hak bowed his head and smiled. "As you wish, Hime-sama."

"Ahhh, is this the princess?" Mi-jung studied Yona head to toe. "You're in command of this one?" she asked, jabbing her thumb in Hak's direction.

Yona lifted her chin. "He's my husband, so yes, I am."

Hak fought the urge to grin proudly. That's my bride.

The Shin queen laughed heartily. "You have a spitfire for a wife, Thunder Beast. It must keep things interesting." Her eyes raked the dragons. "I've met this one," she said, pointing at Jae-ha. "The rest of you…" Her fingertip tapped air as she counted, her eyes widened. "Are there…five of you?"

Yona folded her arms. "What do you mean, five of us?"

Five of what? Hak quirked a brow. There were four members of a circus plus one spoiled princess he happened to love more than life itself. Yoon was off somewhere, probably to his benefit.

Mi-jung went back to grinning. "Kyung-hwa!"

The Shin lieutenant general made her way through the crowd, her face smooth. "Yes, Mi-jung?"

The queen swept her hand, indicating Yona and her dragons plus him in one gesture. "You said you met all of these, weeks ago?"

Kyung-hwa bowed from the waist, her black hair falling forward. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Little one, you are useless." Mi-jung reached over and mussed the woman's hair. "I'd fire you if I wasn't so fond of the way you scowl and pout when you're angry."

"Mi-jung!" Kyung-hwa jerked out from beneath her sovereign's hand, grimacing as she straightened.

The Shin queen bared her teeth, clearly amused.

Other footfalls neared. "I see introductions have already been made?" Soo-won asked. He arrived with Joo-doh and his guards behind him, Tae-woo at his side. The king had shed his cloak, which had probably gotten blood on it. His left hand was bandaged across the palm. Hak ignored the way Joo-doh was glaring at him.

Mi-jung snorted. "If talking counts, Your Majesty." She eyed him. "What did you do to your hand, Little Fox?"

Soo-won flicked the hand in question dismissively. "Merely the perils of having the Thunder Beast as a dear friend, Your Majesty."

Yona drew a sharp breath beside him. Hak didn't meet her questioning gaze.

"Hmm?" The queen grinned. "I see." She snapped her fingers and one of her guards rushed forward, handing her two long, black-sheathed blades. These she offered to Soo-won. "A gift for your general, to replace the ones I broke."

Soo-won lifted his brows. "My thanks, Your Majesty." He accepted the swords and passed them to Joo-doh.

The Sky Tribe general's jaw worked as he bowed. "Your Majesty."

Mi-jung returned to studying the dragons. "Are these four also at your command, Princess?"

Yona frowned. "Respectfully, Your Majesty, these are my friends and not my slaves."

The queen arched a brow. "Ehh? Yet I perceive you could order them and they would obey you." She took a step closer, studying them in earnest. Zeno and Shin-ah didn't seem to mind but Kija's face was flinty. Jae-ha wore the look of someone tolerating unpleasantness.

"I'm afraid I don't really…" Yona trailed off, her lips pursed. "Why must everything be about strength and battle to you? Why is that how you wish to negotiate?"

Mi-jung's face smoothed. "Because words are soft, malleable things too easily twisted to suit one's own desires, Your Highness. But there's no better judge of a man's character than how he handles his sword in the face of certain death."

Hak lifted a brow. Decent logic, that.

His wife paled a little. "But these battles will not be to the death."

"Indeed. It's a pity, but one would run out of potential allies rather quickly, that way."

Tae-woo cleared his throat softly. "Food is ready, Mi-jung."

She grinned. "Glad to hear it, Munchkin. I'm famished." Her gaze flicked across them. "Princess. Your Majesty." She glanced at him. "Thunder Beast."

As she moved to follow Tae-woo, Jae-ha softly cleared his throat. "You say you're Shin, my lady, but your accent to me reads Kai."

The atmosphere cooled in an instant. Hands on both sides fell to the hilts of weapons, faces shuttering. Hak, for one, didn't hear it.

The Shin queen turned, her demeanor unchanged. "Well, you're just full of surprises, aren't you, stranger?" She grinned and leaned close to Jae-ha, lowering her voice. "Some tales are not told between acquaintances. Bedfellows, maybe." Mi-jung quirked a brow. "Perhaps you have some of those?"

The green dragon shrugged in response.

Mi-jung straightened, resting a hand on her hip. "Princess, you might tighten your leash on this one. I find him amusing."

Jae-ha grimaced slightly. "Heaven forbid, my lady."

The queen laughed and went on her way. The Shin contingent followed her, their hands slowly leaving their weapons.

Once she was out of earshot, Hak glanced askance at the green dragon. "Droopy Eyes, I think she just offered you a date."

Jae-ha folded his arms and sighed. "You can't hear it."

He shook his head.

"It's pretty subtle."

"Since you mentioned it, I do hear it," Soo-won said. "How concerning." Though the calm look on his face was devoid of any actual worry.

Hak pressed his lips. Who invited you into this conversation, Soo-won?

If the king sensed his aversion, he ignored it. "Your ears are quite good, Jae-ha-san. I don't suppose you'd volunteer to ask her more about it."

The green dragon exhaled coolly. "I respectfully decline."

Soo-won smiled and looked to his right. "If not, perhaps, Joo-doh Shogun—"

The Sky Tribe general sucked air. "Heika!"

The king chuckled and turned away. "Come along, General. We're having Wind Tribe gruel tonight."

Hak inhaled tightly as they left. If Soo-won wasn't faking, it meant the king was in a good mood… A little bit like old Soo-won. That painful, constricting feeling in his chest returned.

"Hak…" Yona said quietly. She moved around in front of him, her features taut with unease. "His hand?"

Hak exhaled slowly. "Soo-won injured himself. It was his own choice." He rolled his shoulders. "He grabbed my glaive. Of course he'd cut himself."

Her lips thinned into a line as she eyed his weapon. "But why was it low enough for him to reach it?"

"Because he made an off-color comment about you, Hime, and I wasn't about to let him." Hak lifted his brows. "Command me all you want as my sovereign, Hime-sama, but I won't let anyone talk about my wife like that. I don't care who it is. I'd threaten Droopy Eyes too if he said something crass."

Jae-ha sighed, pushing his fingers into his hair. "Really, Raijyuu. I'm your example? I'd wound myself if I ever said something rude to Yona-chan or any other lovely woman."

Yona's face softened. "Alright. As long as that's all it was."

That was hardly 'all it was,' but Hak wasn't about to tell her any more than that. He ignored the furtive glance Kija sent his way.

Apparently satisfied, Yona looked off in the direction Tae-woo and the Shin had gone. "Are we expected to join them? Because I'd just as soon…not." The fading light darkened the shadows beneath her eyes, making her look as exhausted as she was tense.

"Yona-dear, if I may say, I've had about as much of that woman as I can take for one day." Jae-ha leaned against her shoulder, looking weary.

Hak snorted and prodded him in the gut with the pole of his glaive. "Drape yourself somewhere else, Droopy Eyes."

The green dragon merely smiled.

Hak prodded harder. "But to answer you, Hime, no, I don't think it's necessary. Mi-jung doesn't seem as formal as the other Shin royalty I've met. I doubt she'd care and what does it matter if she does?" He shrugged.

"Good." Yona's face brightened. "Because I'd rather eat Yoon's modified gruel than straight Wind Tribe gruel. Sorry, husband."

And just like that, he could breathe again. Hak smiled.

-x-

Back at their tents amidst the larger Wind Tribe camp, Yoon tended a bubbling pot over a cooking fire. The young bishounen looked up when they arrived. "Ah, you're back."

Zeno bounded up to the fire, drooling. "Zeno will get the bowls!"

"I will help," Shin-ah said, following him.

Yona grabbed Hak's hand and tugged him forward. "Yoon, you missed meeting the queen."

"Count yourself fortunate, Yoon-kun," Jae-ha said, sitting down and fighting a shiver.

Yoon sniffed. "Oh, I've had the pleasure. I helped the Wind Tribe serve just a second ago." The boy peered at him askance. "Raijyuu, it's not possible you have a cousin, is it?" Yoon's gaze flattened. "Or a sister."

The green dragon grimaced dramatically. "Yoon-kun, that is an insult to Hak and to men everywhere."

Hak loosed his hand from Yona's and crouched, laying down his glaive. He looked across the fire solemnly. "I haven't told any of you this, but there's an entire clan of me out there: Clan Hak. We come from an island."

Kija groaned.

"The Isle of Hak." He grinned.

Yoon rolled his eyes skyward. "I'm sorry I asked."

Hak felt Yona studying him. He reached over and messed with her bangs. "I'm an orphan, Hime. Don't get any weird ideas."

His bride made a face and ducked from beneath his hand. "She is tall."

"So's Droopy Eyes. If you say I'm related to him, I'll have to punch him."

"Why would I be the victim of your violent tendencies in that case, Hak?" Jae-ha asked.

Hak quirked a brow. "I'm just saying you'd be in the way of my fist."

"Alright, you two. Don't make me separate you," Yoon said as he ladled gruel into bowls.

Hak shrugged and sat down, snaking one arm around Yona's waist and pulling her against him. Yona settled in, smiling, the firelight glinting off her earrings. Just having her near made things easier. That, and having Soo-won out of sight. If only it could always be this way. If only.

…But the lighter moment didn't last. Towards the end of dinner Yona started nodding off, leaning against him more and more, and the food began to stick in his throat. He couldn't get Soo-won's voice out of his head. Do it, Hak. End me the same way I ended King Il. Hak fought a shiver.

Beside him, Yona stirred. "…Hak?"

Hak gathered himself, not wanting to worry her further. He set down his bowl and scooped her up into his arms as he stood. "Go back to sleep, love." He brushed his lips across her brow.

She blinked at him blearily and nodded, closing her eyes again.

Hak carried her into their tent and laid her gently against the bedding. He slipped off her shoes, set her weapons aside…and couldn't bear to think of a life without being at her side. But while her tension gave way to fatigue, his anger stirred. I can't go on as if it didn't happen. I can't ever forgive him for what he did to you. For what he did to your father. He covered her with a blanket.

Ignoring that would be like saying Il's death didn't matter—that Il's life as king and Yona's father didn't matter. Hak curled his hands as the shaking started and turned for the exit.

"You're not coming to bed?" Her voice was quiet, thick with sleep.

He didn't face her—he couldn't and manage to keep it all together. "I'm not tired yet, Hime. I'll keep watch for a little while. At least until the Shin head back across the river."

"…OK."

He could tell she was trying to keep the disappointment from her voice—yet another knife to slide between his ribs. "I won't be that long, Hime. I—" But the words sounded as hollow as the promise he was trying to make. If he managed to sleep at all, it would surprise him. Hak left the tent, unable, unwilling to spend any more empty words.

Nights like this, he longed for the solitude of Fuuga's castle keep, when he could wander the cold breezeways and perch on the edge of the wall…where solace might be found. A Wind Tribe army camp where a false king entertained a delegation of the Shin was hardly that. Particularly given a Shin queen who may or may not be in league with the Kai Empire...

But it was quiet, outside. Dishes had been cleared; the cooking pot was gone and a kettle hung in its place. By the crackling fire, there was only Zeno with a cup in his hands. Yoon and the rest of the dragons were nowhere in sight. In the distance, he could hear the low rumble of conversations as most of the camp settled for the evening.

"Zeno made tea. Would Mister like some?"

Hak exhaled and shook his head slowly. "Thanks, Zeno, but no." He moved around the fire to where he'd left his glaive. Maybe some drills would at least tire him.

The yellow dragon spoke again, quieter this time. "Mister has the scent of death around him again."

Hak stilled, cold spreading through his body. He stopped, half bent, his reach short of grasping his weapon.

"It's stronger this time."

He slowly sank to the ground and sat, facing Zeno across the fire. "Meaning what, Zeno? Are you really giving me a death sentence this time?"

The yellow dragon looked at him with a soft expression, his hair askew as usual. Firelight glinted off the medallion that hung from his left ear. "No… But part of Mister is dying. Just a little. Just a little."

Hak drew breath, his hands curling against his knees. "What part?" But he could guess. His heart ached and warred within him, hating Soo-won, hating himself. He dropped his eyes, staring at the base of the fire, at the blue-white flames that slowly devoured the logs that fed it.

"People say bitterness is like poison, but not Zeno. …Zeno says bitterness is like a disease. Unless it heals, it passes from person to person, even across generations. Zeno's watched that happen many times."

Hak swallowed hard. Was that it? An entire generation lost to darkness, Ik-soo had said. Soo-won's parents and Yona's…and now…

"It starts with one thing unforgiven and that leads to another and another."

His fists tightened. But he's not even sorry! He doesn't care at all what he did to us—except for the nightmares he suffers! He glared into the white-hot flames…and something broke inside. And I never realized. I never cared enough to ask… Hak shuddered.

"It's Mister's own soul that's ill," Zeno said. "And Mister can only help his own soul." The yellow dragon exhaled quietly. "Zeno knows." Pain was threaded through Zeno's voice. Old pain. –Like the pain of losing the king he loved…and his wife—both in death.

Hak's heartbeat thudded in his throat. He inhaled long and deep, lifting his eyes.

The yellow dragon still had a gentleness to his expression, his eyes gazing off into his memories. Save for the crackle of the fire, there was silence for a long moment.

Zeno tilted his head to the side. "Mister is angry and sad. But that's OK. That's not wrong." He paused. "There will always be…painful things and hard things. Things Mister can't control or change." Zeno lifted his face, smiling faintly. "But Mister can decide what's important. And Mister maybe decides that once or maybe a thousand times. But that's OK too."

The breath rushed from Hak's lungs. His fingers trembled against his knees. Zeno… You watched everyone you loved die… You lived with the guilt of having survived them, but you can still smile? If so, then maybe…just maybe…someday—

Tent flaps rustled. Hak glanced over in time to catch a glimpse of Yona's fingers darting back inside. He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. You've been listening, Hime?

"The Lass is worried about you, Mister," Zeno said. "Being married is about sharing things. Good and bad. Good and—" He cut himself off with a yawn.

Hak closed his eyes briefly. The tension and the anger was still there, but… Hime. He didn't have to let those things overwhelm what was important. Maybe he did have a choice.

He got to his feet, tipping his glaive up into his hand. He headed towards their tent…and hesitated. "Zeno…" There was no response. He looked back and saw the yellow dragon curled on his side towards the fire, snoring away. Hak quirked a brow. No one could fall asleep that fast. Hak smiled. Thanks.

Inside the tent, he laid down his glaive. "Hime, couldn't you sleep?"

She was sitting up, clutching the blanket he'd covered her with, a guilty look on her face. "Hak, I…" Her face crumpled with worry.

Pain tore through him. "Hime—" He dropped down beside her, clutching her against him, burying his face in her hair.

Yona lifted tentative hands to his back, stroking gently as he shook. "…Hak?"

I won't forfeit the life we could have. I won't lose myself, not like him. Even if that meant coexisting with the war inside him, even if that was the harder, more painful road to walk. You're worth all of that, Hime. He leaned back, cupping her face in his hands. "I'm with you, Hime." This time, the words weren't empty. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Her eyes moistened and she smiled at him with love, with all the radiant hope of the rising sun. He drank it in—all of it—daring to believe that one day, somehow, he would be able to let go.

"Hak." She blinked, fine tears glistening on her cheeks, and kissed him.