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Color is Insanity in Material Form 1
Title: Color is Insanity in Material Form
Rating: R overall
Pairing: Hanchul, other ninja!appearances
Genre: AU, Fantasy, Drama, Romance
Summary: Heechul is a God of War who is bored to death of his immortal life. No pun intended. When an assassin tries to kill him for retribution for his family, Heechul decides that maybe life isn't so boring as he thought, and concocts a plan to rescue himself from eternal dissatisfaction.
Notes: Set in Brandon's Sanderson's Warbreaker world to celebrate the fact that my username from his forums was listed in his acknowledgements section. Apparently I said something awesome; wish I could remember what.
~~~~~
Hangeng had never seen so much color in all his life; the city pulsed with it. Feeling self-conscious in his drab gray and brown, he tried to melt into the shadows. Quite impossibly, the shadows themselves were colored and his annoyed huff did nothing to change that. He worried every time someone passed him that they would notice his Breath; that they would notice the reds turning burgundy, the yellows burning into gold. But no one did and he had to remind himself that he wasn’t in his hometown. He was in the City of Gods where people were used to Awakeners and Breath and Color.
Pulling the cowl of his cloak further past his face he hurried towards his destination, slipping inside the garishly painted inn, asking the burly innkeeper the price of a cheap room for a few nights. He didn’t need long after all.
The innkeeper rambled off a list of expenses, not noticing how his light blue doublet had quickly turned navy as Hangeng grew closer. Hangeng could feel the innkeepers one Breath. That was how it was supposed to be, Hangeng thought with a wry smile, one Breath for one Person.
“Two flights up, sir,” the inn keeper said.
“Thanks,” Hangeng replied, scooping up his key.
“Dinner is served at five if you’re around. If not, you’re on your own.”
I’ll actually be out murdering a God, Hangeng thought as he smiled and started up the stairs, but thanks anyway.
~~~~
Heechul didn’t know how he died. He knew nothing about his previous life save that he had done something heroic enough to be brought back; to become a God. To become an immortal example of how humans should behave. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that divinity wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be.
He sighed as someone knocked on his door, reluctantly calling out enter, not having to look at the door to know who it was.
“You’re supposed to be in your audience hall. You’re late.”
“Ryeowook, I’m a God,” Heechul replied wearily, “I can show up when I want and no one can fault me for it. Especially not my High Priest.”
He let himself be fussed over, mentally preparing himself for another day of tedious tasks that he didn’t want to do. Would death have been more interesting than this pitiful excuse for eternal life? He didn’t know; wouldn’t ever. He allowed his priests to swath him in blue and gold, not even noticing as the colors became saturated with his Breath.
His audience did not last long. He plastered a smile on his face and nodded his head graciously as he was presented with gifts and gratitude, had his hands kissed and feet cried upon. He gave out food when it was requested of him, gave out clothing and money, promised to kill people if it was within his power (which it wasn’t, technically) and promised to not start a war. And they all thanked him. Loved him. Worshipped him.
“You need to look more benevolent,” Ryeowook lectured, as he ushered the God down to the offering room.
“I’m a God of War,” Heechul argued, “I’m not supposed to look kind.”
“If you don’t look benevolent then people will worry that you’re going to start a war.”
Maybe I should, Heechul thought, It might make life a bit more interesting.
“I know what you’re thinking and it’s a bad idea. Your audiences only last an hour because we’re currently a peaceful society. I know you remember what it was like when we were at war a few years back.”
Heechul winced involuntarily, trying not to recall the amount of invocations he had received. You never do anything when there are wars anyway, Heechul reminded himself, You just sit here and listen to people ask for protection.
“Walk,” Ryeowook instructed, pushing Heechul forward.
Heechul blew in through the doors, purposefully placing a scowl on his face. He sat down in the middle of the room, barely noticing the colors bending around him. Then he saw his offering sitting opposite him. His mouth dropped as he took in the sight of small girl, shivering in her flimsy white dress despite the warmth of the day. Her perfect golden hair shimmered with the light of her one Breath.
“Ryeowook.”
“Yes, my Lord?”
“Please tell me that this is some sort of sick joke.”
“I’m afraid not, my Lord.”
“She’s just...she’s a child!”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“I will not take a child’s Breath.”
“She was chosen.”
“I will not.”
Ryeowook scurried back a few steps at the force of Heechul’s words. “My Lord,” he tried, “She is pleased to offer you life.”
Heechul turned to stare at the girl. He knew he couldn’t refuse. They all gave their Breath willingly. Every day, every offering, for the hundreds of years he had been alive. He leaned back against his chair and heard Ryeowook let out a sigh of relief.
He helped the girl forward and she knelt before Heechul, her forehead touching his feet.
She whispered the words to transfer the thin thread of color from her body to Heechul’s and the God thought he was going to be sick.
He saw the color thread weave it’s way out of her mouth and melt into him. He felt it, a drop in the ocean of Breaths he had inside of him, gathered day after day, year after year from people who thought that it would please him. He looked down at her face and pretended that he didn’t see the tear that leaked out the corner of her eye. She was drab in his eyes now, colorless, her previously vibrant hair looking mute and plain.
He laid a hand on it. “Thank you,” he said, and then walked out before he lost his composure. “Give her double compensation,” he ordered, and a priest scurried off almost immediately to comply with his request.
A person could live without Breath. But in all actuality, a colorless life wasn’t much of a life at all.
~~~~
Hangeng had decided to kill the God of War at the age of five. He had stood with his brother and mother watching his house burn down to the ground, their father still tied inside, screaming as the flames licked his skin and pulled the life from him. At age nine, his mother was beaten in front of him and then thrown behind a shed and raped, her last breath escaping as her captor pounded into her bruised flesh. At age fifteen, his brother was taken from him to serve in his country’s military. His regiment was viciously slaughtered a month later during a raid.
He had lost everything because of the Hallandren wars. Because of their Gods who weren’t really Gods, just shells of skin and bone held together by Breath stolen from their people. Murderers, thieves, villains. Hangeng wanted revenge and he was going to get it, one way or another.
He had learned how to be an awakener after the death of his brother. Hangeng had come across a beggar dying in the street and had convinced the man to give him his Breath. It had been the start of a venture driven by hatred, following death like a vulture and taking Breath in exchange for a promise to kill the God of War. He had a sizable amount of them now, slivers of life that enhanced his own. He tried not to think that he was like the Gods. He wasn’t dead. His time wasn’t past. He was alive and they soon wouldn’t be.
He fingered the dagger in his sash as he stood in front of the Court of Gods and contemplated his past. It all came down to this moment.
Unwinding the rope that was around his arm, he Breathed into it, commanding, “Climb,” and the rope wiggled it’s way up the wall, tying itself to something on the parapet. One usually had to be specific when Awakening objects, but Hangeng had used this rope so many times, lengthy commands were superfluous.
He scaled the wall easily, Breathing into the rope again to camouflage it against the dark stone.
He set off at a run, his feet making no sound as he dashed through doors and hallways. He knew where he was going. He had memorized old maps that were in his kingdom, and assuming they hadn’t drastically changed the palace design in the last hundred or so years, he was damn close to where he wanted to be.
There were two priests standing vigilance outside the door he wanted and they were both out cold before they realized that he was there.
He opened the door slowly, sliding into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light.
After a moment, he glided across the floor towards the bed, pulling out his dagger and holding it out in front of him. The figure laying on the bed was prettier than Hangeng expected; even in his sleep, the God made the colors around Hangeng pale in comparison to his own. Raising his dagger, enhanced with so much Breath it was wriggling in Hangeng’s hand, he prepared himself
“You know if you stab me with that you’ll be killed in the most gruesome way possible.”
“Fuck you,” Hangeng hissed, “I’ll stab you until there are so many wounds in your body your Breath won’t be able to compensate for them.”
The God had the audacity to smile. “That’s a lot of stabbing.”
Hangeng regained his head and lunged for the God. Something grabbed his collar and he was yanked backwards mid leap. His dagger went flying, sinking into the wood mantle above the fireplace with a loud thwack.
“My Lord!”
Hangeng gasped for air as someone sat across his throat, making it unable for him to speak. Or move.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, thank you, Ryeowook. Let him up.”
Hangeng clutched at his throat, rasping.
He was hauled onto his knees, his head pushed down onto the ground, forced to bow before a God he hated.
“I will arrange for his immediate execution, my Lord.”
“There is no need for that,” the God returned quickly, “He didn’t actually strike me.”
Hangeng felt his head lifted gently, and he swallowed as he met the God’s eyes, crinkled with a little laughter, like the whole incident was terribly amusing. “Did you now, my little assassin?”
Hangeng growled.
“But my Lord...”
The God chuckled. “Tie him up and gag him. He can spend the night in the dungeons. I’ll decide what to do with him tomorrow.”
~~~~
Heechul had never felt so good. He had almost died and he was the happiest being on the planet. He was sure that if his High Priest knew, he would pop a vein from all the stress.
“My Lord this is all so unconventional,” Ryeowook said from behind him.
“I realize that,” Heechul returned.
“If you would please just allow me to order his death. I do not understand why my Lord insists upon keeping the miscreant alive.“
“He interests me.”
“My Lord Heechul you can’t possibly-“
“Ryeowook,” Heechul’s voice edged into a dangerous rumble, “You are in no place to tell a God what he can and cannot do.”
The High Priest immediately fell to his knees in apology, “I’m sorry, my Lord.”
“I need my High Priest to abide by my wishes,” Heechul said.
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Continue to ignore my commands and I will be speaking with Siwon about your apparent lack of loyalty.”
“I understand, my Lord,” Ryeowook whispered to the floor, obviously scared beyond words at the thought of his superior being informed of his infraction.
“Get up, you’re going to dirty your robes.”
Ryeowook’s attendant had his attacker’s face pressed into the ground when Heechul walked into his audience chamber. “You may allow him to sit, but keep him gagged.”
Heechul sat across from the man with blond hair and stared seriously at him. “I must confess, I am terribly intrigued by you. I’ve decided that in exchange for your life you’re going to give me your Breath.”
“M-My Lord!” Ryeowook spluttered.
Heechul shot the priest a dirty look.
The attendant looked extraordinarily surprised, but he said nothing, only tightening his hold on the man’s blond hair as he spit fury into his gag.
Heechul squatted down in front of the man and undid his gag carefully.
“Fuck you,” the man said immediately, his voice scratchy.
“What’s your name?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“I’m your God, I have a right to know your name.”
“No you are not.”
Heechul raised an eyebrow. “I am a God and you belong to me whether you accept it or not.” After a moment of silence Heechul said, “Would you prefer that my priests torture it out of you?”
“I don’t care what you do.”
“Really?” Heechul reached up and re-tied the gag around his mouth. “Strip him,” he commanded, and the attendant beckoned for two more priests, the three of them pulling the man’s clothes off as his screeches escaped past the gag.
“Why are you just standing there?” Heechul demanded of Ryeowook. “I ought to send you back to be an acolyte under Siwon and make your attendant my High Priest, he at least does what I ask.”
“My apologies,” Ryeowook said and immediately pulled Hangeng’s trousers off folding all the man’s clothes and placing them at the God’s feet.
Heechul sifted through them calmly, ignoring the fact that four priests were having difficulty holding the blond head down. “Did you relieve him of anything last night?”
“No, my Lord,” the attendant said, grimacing as he sat on one of the man’s arms, “he had nothing on him.”
Heechul nodded. They were drab clothes, he noted, the man was probably from the slums, which meant no ID; not that Heechul had been expecting one in the first place. “Well my mysterious little assassin, how are we going to deal with all of this?”
Heechul sat cross legged beside the man and let his eyes roam over the naked body. “So muscular,” the God whispered, “you’re a beautiful man.”
The man struggled against the bodies that held him down.
“Allow me to elaborate on my offer. You give me your Breath. You swear allegiance to me, and I won’t let you be handed over to the executioners as Ryeowook wants. And I’m sure you know exactly how they choose to kill those that come after Gods.”
Ryeowook coughed but said nothing.
“So many give me their Breath willingly,” Heechul crooned, trying not to choke on the doctrine he hated, “And you falter when I offer you the chance to please me. You must truly dislike everything that I am.”
He pulled the gag off once again. “You may allow him to sit up,” he said.
Ryeowook looked relieved that he could release one of the man’s arms and he scuttled away, nervously eyeing the scene before him.
Heechul watched as the man spit blood onto the ground. The God belatedly thought that maybe the attendant shouldn’t have made the gag tight enough to cut into skin.
“Let me ask you something you won’t mind answering. Do you hate me?”
“Yes.”
Progress! Heechul thought delightedly. “Why?”
“You’re the God of War. You’ve taken everything away from me that I love.”
Ah, Heechul thought. “Well that explains a lot.”
“Fuck you.”
“Yes, we’ve been there before. Although, after seeing you naked I think that’s more of a legitimate option.”
Heechul laughed as the man snarled.
“Very well, I will add to the deal. You give me your Breath and swear allegiance to me for a period of thirty days. At the end of those thirty days you may have your Breath back and if you still hate me, you can kill me.”
“My Lord Heechul!” Ryeowook objected.
“Be silent,” Heechul hissed. He was definitely going to have a discussion with Siwon.
The man stared at him. “How can I trust that you’ll keep your word?”
Heechul rolled his eyes but ordered for some parchment and began to write. “You will do everything I say, no questions asked for thirty days. Go where I go, watch what I do, see what I see. If you disobey me within the thirty day period the deal is off and I will hand you over to the executioners. If at the end of it all you decide that I am a worthy God, you can have your Breath back and do whatever you please. If not, than you can kill me and take my place as God of War.”
Ryeowook was groaning.
“How are you going to give me back my Breath?”
“I’m a God,” Heechul reminded the assassin, with a sarcastic roll of his eyes.
“And if you do not keep your word at the end of thirty days?” the man asked again.
“I will,” Heechul replied easily. He finished writing his stipulations and signed his name at the bottom of the page. “Ryeowook, your knife...now, Ryeowook.”
His High Priest swallowed and handed his knife to the God, bowing lower as he got closer as if it might placate the God. Heechul shook his head. He slashed the blade across his thumb and slapped it down onto the paper beside his signature. He was careful not splatter any of the ink with blood; he had spent years perfecting the look of his signature and he was not about to mar it on the rare occasion that he got to use it.
“Sign,” Heechul shoved the paper at the man on the floor, “Either way, you win.”
The man looked back and forth between the paper and Heechul, “And you will not kill me in the thirty days? Nor put me through torture?”
“No,” Heechul promised, “I protect those who swear allegiance to me.”
It took a few more minutes of the man gnawing at his lip before he nodded. “Very well, I agree.”
The color in Ryeowook’s face had completely drained and Heechul hoped that the priest didn’t faint. Heechul handed the assassin the knife and he dutifully opened the skin of his forefinger, smearing it by his signature.
“Excellent!” Heechul said. “Now dress. We’re going to have Siwon hold onto this for us.”
The man reached for his clothes and put them on, obviously very happy that he did not have to expose himself any longer.
Heechul watched, with a small measure of amusement, as Ryeowook wrung his hands, obviously in a terrible tizzy.
“Come here, my little assassin, come and give me your Breath.”
The man shook as he approached, and Heechul decided that he did not begrudge the man his fear. Losing your Breath, even if you knew you were going to get it back, was never an easy thing.
The man knelt and tentatively grasped Heechul’s offered hand.
“Take your time,” Heechul said quietly.
They waited five minutes before the man whispered the words that made his Breath flow out of him and into Heechul. And Gods there was a lot of it. Heechul felt the colors bleed into him, his heart skipping a beat as the color drained from the man on the floor.
Heechul sunk down onto the ground and marveled for a moment at the tears that were running down the man’s face. He realized that for the first time in his immortal life, he could wipe the tears away. So he did. “Deep breaths,” he soothed.
The man was soon calm and Heechul lifted him to his feet. “Now, let’s clear a few things up. First of all, what is your name?”
“Hangeng.”
“I’m going to call you Hankyung. It’s easier to pronounce.”
Heechul watched carefully as annoyance flashed through Hangeng’s eyes but the man only nodded and said, “Very well.”
“You may address me as My Lord.”
“Very well, My Lord.”
Heechul nodded, pleased. It was a good start.
~~~~
Hangeng tried not to pass out as his color left him. The vibrancy, the richness, all of it gone. He might as well be seeing in black and white. He might as well be blind. Fuck you, he thought at the God he was following. Fuck you for making me do this. I’m going to kill you nice and slow when this is done. I don’t know how, but I have just enough time to think every excruciating detail through.
He tried not cry as he passed several large murals on the wall and found that he could not distinguish as many colors as he could have five minutes earlier.
~~~~
Had Heechul known that it was possible to be this happy he would have made this deal with someone decades ago. It had only been ten minutes since signing the contract and he felt like he had sprouted wings. Of course, it was mostly due to the fact that Siwon was carefully reading the document and scowling furiously at it, his disapproval very clear, and his lecture most certainly imminent.
"You're an idiot."
"Isn't it brilliant?"
"Did you at all consider that if you die there will be people that miss you?"
Heechul scoffed. "Siwon, I need a little excitement. Besides, we both know that everyone falls in love with me. It's inevitable. I'm not going to die."
Siwon rolled his eyes, "I just wish you would have spoken to someone beforehand."
"Boring," Heechul singsonged. "Get over it already, and keep that safe. I don't want my blood circling among the masses."
"Ryeowook!" Heechul called, and the High Priest shuffled inside, looking positively petrified. "Take Hankyung's measurements and fit him with some clothes. I will be with Kangin before the meeting later today, you may both find me with him after you're done."
"As you wish, my Lord."
"You would keep company with the God of Death," Siwon muttered irritably.
"Well who else would I spend my time with? Donghae? He lectures me on the evils of war whenever I'm within hearing range!"
"That's because war tears families apart."
"I desperately wish," Heechul muttered, "That people would understand that I do not start wars. I'm perfectly happy with peace. It makes me less busy."
"Less bombarded by petitions you mean?"
"Well considering that's all I'm capable of as a God," Heechul grumbled.
"Are we done? I have acolytes to train."
Heechul sighed. "No. I need a new High Priest."
"What's wrong with Ryeowook?" Siwon asked, looking affronted.
"He doesn't listen to me."
"Well, maybe if you starting making smarter decisions," the contract was waved in front of Heechul's nose and the God smacked it away, annoyed.
"Regardless of whether or not it was a smart decision, I need someone who listens and does what I ask. All he does is nag at me; I don't do well with nagging."
"He's just trying to make you a better God."
"Siwon. If I'm already a God how much better could I possibly be? It does nothing but infuriate me. Let him do his priestly duties with a God that fits his personality. Like Kyuhyun."
Heechul watched his friend chew his lip for a moment before nodding. "You're right."
"Of course I am."
"I can't put him with Kyuhyun, though. He doesn’t want a High Priest.”
"What about Yesung? I heard him yelling at his priest not two days ago."
Siwon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That could work. He and Zhou Mi are bestial to each other at best."
"And Ryeowook adores Yesung," Heechul added, "No need to thank me for thinking of a solution. I'm going to find Kangin; I'll send Ryeowook to you when he arrives with Hangeng."
"So you can pronounce his name."
"Of course. I just love naming things. I can't even help myself."
"Ass," Siwon muttered as Heechul walked out the door.
The God of War raised a hand and wiggled his fingers over his shoulder. "You know you love it."
~~~~
Kangin was readying himself for the daily assembly when Heechul found him. "I hear you did something stupid."
"Wow, it got out that fast? I'm impressed."
"Ryeowook has a big mouth."
"So do you. How many people did you tell?"
"However many I came across."
Heechul grinned. "I'm elated."
"You're an idiot," Kangin tossed a measure of black silk over his shoulder, "When do I get to meet this assassin of yours?"
"Whenever he's done being fitted for proper clothing. I couldn't possibly have him wearing drab outfits."
Heechul watched Kangin finish dressing, commenting dryly, “Black is such a nice color on you.”
“Shut up.”
There was a knock on the door and Ryeowook entered at Kangin’s bidding; Hangeng followed, dressed modestly in various shades of red, the colors terribly unsaturated in his Breathless state.
“You didn’t mention he was colorless.”
“I didn’t mention anything,” Heechul returned, sending a glare at Ryeowook, who bowed his head. “Hankyung, come here. Turn around for me.”
Hangeng spun slowly under Heechul’s critical eye, his only sign of irritation being his tightly pressed lips.
“You are displeased with the clothing?” Heechul asked, keeping his gaze away from Hangeng’s mouth.
“No, my Lord.”
“Excellent. Allow me to introduce Kangin, the God of Death.”
Hangeng bowed politely.
Kangin nodded. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “There’s an old lady choking on a chicken bone that requires my attention.”
“Morbid,” Heechul informed him, wrinkling his nose.
“At least I’m working,” Kangin returned smoothly, “I’ll see you at the assembly.”
~~~~
Hangeng was still in a daze. For the moment, he was simply doing as he was told because he couldn’t formulate any thoughts of his own. The loss of his Breath was just too much to grasp. He followed Heechul out of Kangin’s chambers and stood off the to side as Heechul beckoned for Ryeowook to come closer. Hangeng thought that maybe it was going to be a private conversation until Heechul opened his mouth and practically shouted at his priest.
“How could you tell Kangin?”
“I was bursting,” Ryeowook muttered.
“But Kangin Ryeowook? You know he can’t keep a secret.”
“You were going to tell him anyway.”
“In my own good time. Ryeowook I can’t keep doing this with you. You are hereby released as my High Priest. Siwon has your new assignment.”
“B-but...My Lord please, I’ll try harder.”
“You won’t. We both know you won’t.”
“All I know is you, please don’t do this to me, please.”
Hangeng thought that the colors splattered on the ceiling were beautiful and he wondered what they would look like if he still had his Breath.
“Ryeowook, you know that’s not true. You’ll be a much better priest with someone else.”
“There is no one else.”
Hangeng watched as Heechul pinched the bridge of his nose. Ryeowook fell onto his knees in front of the God of War and begged, pleaded to kept at his side.
“Enough,” Heechul said forcefully after a full minute of Ryeowook’s tears, “This is silly. You’re going to be with Yesung and Zhou Mi is coming to be with me. I know you adore Yesung so get up already and thank me.”
Hangeng was sure that Ryeowook’s heart had stopped because his features froze for a horrifying second. Then he looked up and Hangeng was surprised to see utter joy etched into the priest’s features.
“Really?”
“Yes. Now get up and go to him, before your begging changes my mind.”
“Thank you,” Ryeowook whispered fiercely, immediately standing up and grasping Heechul’s hands tightly, “Thank you so much.”
“Send Zhou Mi to me when you get there,” Heechul ordered.
“I will; Thank you so much my Lord.”
Heechul pointed a finger down the corridor and Ryeowook took off at a run, whooping with joy. Hangeng wondered if he had found the right God of War. His God was supposed to be ruthless, mean, and ugly not...not Heechul.
“Come, the assembly awaits.” Heechul beckoned as he started after Ryeowook, “We don’t want to be late.”
Heechul said nothing as they walked through the impeccable corridors, the wide windows allowing prisms of light to cast rainbows on the walls. He led them through several doors, mostly white, and into a room that looked something like a theater.
“Each God has a box,” Heechul informed him quietly as they stepped past a God conferring quietly with a priest. “We meet once a day, just to keep up with anything pressing...which there usually isn’t.”
They stepped into their box which was very appropriately colored a blood red and Hangeng couldn’t help but admire the way the color reacted to Heechul’s presence. The God patted the seat next to him and Hangeng sat down tentatively.
“I’m sure you’ll meet them all later because each one is a nosy bastard but I figure a head’s up is only fair to you. The God we passed on the way in is Leeteuk. He’s the God of Love. That’s his High Priest Henry. Leeteuk is sort of with Kangin but not really. Only when Kangin isn’t escorting lovers into the afterlife; which of course isn’t his decision but Leeteuk feels like he has to blame someone for all the broken hearted lovers that come to petition him every day.”
Hangeng nodded. What else was he supposed to do?
“So...Kangin you’ve met,” Heechul mused as the God of Death walked inside, “And that’s Donghae behind him. He’s God of Families. And that’s his High Priest Eunhyuk. Kibum is God of Time, Kyuhyun God of Dreams, and there’s Yesung. He’s God of the Arts.”
Hangeng watched as Heechul smiled at Ryeowook who bowed deeply from his position behind Yesung. A taller man followed both of them and Hangeng watched him tentatively approach Heechul’s box. “Zhou Mi,” Heechul greeted.
“My Lord,” the man bowed gracefully.
Heechul beckoned and Zhou Mi entered the box, casting a suspicious eye in Hangeng’s direction.
“This is Hankyung; I’ve no doubt you’ve heard of him by now.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Excellent, I won’t bother with the tale then.”
Hangeng felt himself nudged and he hurriedly stood and bowed to Zhou Mi.
“You were so polite to Kangin,” Heechul sniffed.
Siwon was the last to enter. Hangeng had only gotten a quick glimpse earlier, but he thought the God was very handsome. “If I may ask, does Siwon have a title?”
Heechul sighed. “Siwon...Siwon is the God of making sure everyone does what they’re supposed to do. I think.”
“Like a God King?” Hangeng asked, remembering the tales of his youth.
“Sort of. No one’s really used that title in thousands of years, though. He’s more like a book keeper slash priest trainer. We all respect him even though we’ve all been here longer than he has.”
“The Gods have anyway,” Zhou Mi added from his position behind Heechul.
Siwon cleared his throat and Heechul turned his attention to jack of all trades God, settling back against the cushions which were bleeding a dark red.
“First order of business, in case you haven’t already noticed: Ryeowook is going to serve with Yesung from now on and Zhou Mi with Heechul.”
“About fucking time,” Hangeng heard someone mutter.
Heechul growled a little in his throat and Hangeng wondered if the God was upset that he was being attacked or his former priest.
“I would just like to remind everyone and Leeteuk,” a God said from across the room, “That I am still uninterested in a High Priest. Or Priestess.”
Kyuhyun, Hangeng remembered after a moment.
“Um, thank you, Kyuhyun. I’ll keep that in mind. Second order of business-“
“Can we just discuss what’s burning on the tip of our tongues right now?” The God next to Kyuhyun asked.
“This is where it gets really good,” Heechul whispered, looking ecstatic.
Hangeng frowned and tried to remember the God’s name. Oh right. Donghae. The God that had abandoned his family. Hangeng wondered if maybe he should have gone after Donghae instead of Heechul.
“Heechul is a moron.” Donghae announced, as if it was going to win him an award.
Kyuhyun let out a sigh before anyone could speak and leaned back in his blue chair, closing his eyes. “Wake me when you’re all done bitching.”
Apparently this was an expected reaction, because no one paid any attention to him. Leeteuk stood and said, “Let’s just all try to talk through this rationally.”
“Our laws are clear,” Donghae returned hotly, “Assassins are to be executed.”
“Yet I’m not dead,” Heechul had a feral grin on his face, “So technically Hankyung isn’t really an assassin.”
“Your logic is flawed,” Donghae insisted, a pink tinge showing on his cheeks.
“My Lord Donghae,” Zhou Mi said quietly, rising and offering a polite bow, “With all due respect, regardless of the law, the final decision lies with my Lord Heechul.”
“But-“ Donghae began.
“Donghae,” Kyuhyun said quietly from his reclined position, “The fact that a High Priest is defending the position of a God he was just assigned five minutes ago is speaking volumes against your case.”
“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“Zhou Mi’s sensible words kept me from my dreams.”
“You create your dreams,” Donghae hissed.
Hangeng saw a small smirk creep up into the corner of Kyuhyun’s mouth, “That I do. Occasionally real life is better than what I can create.”
Donghae let out a huff and sat back down.
“Heechul is correct in his assessment of the situation,” Siwon said carefully, “This is his decision and we will abide by it. However, Hangeng, do something to disrupt the peace of this court and your circumstances will most likely change.”
Hangeng bowed.
~~~~
Hangeng always found peace at night. He had hoped that the darkest hours of the City of Gods was no exception. His new master’s (not God’s) wishes were dashing his hopes.
“You’re going to sleep in my bed,” Heechul informed him.
The assembly had lasted for three hours. Kyuhyun had indeed fallen asleep after his comments to Donghae and Heechul zoned out soon after. Hangeng was terribly amused to note that an hour into it, the High Priests were all speaking on their Gods behalf. Zhou Mi explained to him that the assembly was really the only time the High Priests could confer with each other and the Gods allowed them the few hours in exchange for naps.
Hangeng wasn’t sure if he should be pissed or not.
“Sorry what?” He asked before he could control his tongue.
“I said,” Heechul raised an eyebrow, “That we will be sharing a bed. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No my Lord,” Hangeng whispered, bowing his head meekly. He heard Heechul’s feet on the stone floor and felt his face lifted.
“I gave you my word that I will not harm you, did I not?”
“You did, my Lord.”
“You needn’t fear sharing my bed. I will not do anything you do not want.”
Hangeng heard the light teasing but he ignored it, only nodding his head dutifully.
“Good, now get in, I’m tired.”
Hangeng stayed awake, marveling at how the reds in the room shifted around Heechul even as the God slept. He was about to think that maybe could give Heechul a quicker death than originally planned when the God rolled over and slung an arm around Hangeng’s middle.
Hangeng tried to extricate himself but Heechul only held on tighter, his nose managing to land in the crook of the would-be-assassin’s neck.
As the God’s breath feathered over Hangeng’s skin, somehow managing to lull him into a deep sleep, all thoughts of mercy fled his mind.
He dreamt of Kyuhyun laughing his ass off at the two of them.
Fuck you all, he thought; Kyuhyun continued to chuckle.
Part 2
A/N I'm supposed to be writing law!verse. But I saw my name and my brain exploded everywhere. I've totally mutilated everything that is Brandon Sanderson's awesome. I suggest you read his book Warbreaker. It's fantastic. If you don't have money to buy it or you can't where you're located, you can read it for free on his website here. He actually has a ton of versions you can download so you can see his writing process. It's pretty neat.
Having said that...thanks for reading this really long piece of fail? If you stuck through to the end, the other parts should be up soon. My brain is exploding with this story.
Rating: R overall
Pairing: Hanchul, other ninja!appearances
Genre: AU, Fantasy, Drama, Romance
Summary: Heechul is a God of War who is bored to death of his immortal life. No pun intended. When an assassin tries to kill him for retribution for his family, Heechul decides that maybe life isn't so boring as he thought, and concocts a plan to rescue himself from eternal dissatisfaction.
Notes: Set in Brandon's Sanderson's Warbreaker world to celebrate the fact that my username from his forums was listed in his acknowledgements section. Apparently I said something awesome; wish I could remember what.
~~~~~
Hangeng had never seen so much color in all his life; the city pulsed with it. Feeling self-conscious in his drab gray and brown, he tried to melt into the shadows. Quite impossibly, the shadows themselves were colored and his annoyed huff did nothing to change that. He worried every time someone passed him that they would notice his Breath; that they would notice the reds turning burgundy, the yellows burning into gold. But no one did and he had to remind himself that he wasn’t in his hometown. He was in the City of Gods where people were used to Awakeners and Breath and Color.
Pulling the cowl of his cloak further past his face he hurried towards his destination, slipping inside the garishly painted inn, asking the burly innkeeper the price of a cheap room for a few nights. He didn’t need long after all.
The innkeeper rambled off a list of expenses, not noticing how his light blue doublet had quickly turned navy as Hangeng grew closer. Hangeng could feel the innkeepers one Breath. That was how it was supposed to be, Hangeng thought with a wry smile, one Breath for one Person.
“Two flights up, sir,” the inn keeper said.
“Thanks,” Hangeng replied, scooping up his key.
“Dinner is served at five if you’re around. If not, you’re on your own.”
I’ll actually be out murdering a God, Hangeng thought as he smiled and started up the stairs, but thanks anyway.
~~~~
Heechul didn’t know how he died. He knew nothing about his previous life save that he had done something heroic enough to be brought back; to become a God. To become an immortal example of how humans should behave. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that divinity wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be.
He sighed as someone knocked on his door, reluctantly calling out enter, not having to look at the door to know who it was.
“You’re supposed to be in your audience hall. You’re late.”
“Ryeowook, I’m a God,” Heechul replied wearily, “I can show up when I want and no one can fault me for it. Especially not my High Priest.”
He let himself be fussed over, mentally preparing himself for another day of tedious tasks that he didn’t want to do. Would death have been more interesting than this pitiful excuse for eternal life? He didn’t know; wouldn’t ever. He allowed his priests to swath him in blue and gold, not even noticing as the colors became saturated with his Breath.
His audience did not last long. He plastered a smile on his face and nodded his head graciously as he was presented with gifts and gratitude, had his hands kissed and feet cried upon. He gave out food when it was requested of him, gave out clothing and money, promised to kill people if it was within his power (which it wasn’t, technically) and promised to not start a war. And they all thanked him. Loved him. Worshipped him.
“You need to look more benevolent,” Ryeowook lectured, as he ushered the God down to the offering room.
“I’m a God of War,” Heechul argued, “I’m not supposed to look kind.”
“If you don’t look benevolent then people will worry that you’re going to start a war.”
Maybe I should, Heechul thought, It might make life a bit more interesting.
“I know what you’re thinking and it’s a bad idea. Your audiences only last an hour because we’re currently a peaceful society. I know you remember what it was like when we were at war a few years back.”
Heechul winced involuntarily, trying not to recall the amount of invocations he had received. You never do anything when there are wars anyway, Heechul reminded himself, You just sit here and listen to people ask for protection.
“Walk,” Ryeowook instructed, pushing Heechul forward.
Heechul blew in through the doors, purposefully placing a scowl on his face. He sat down in the middle of the room, barely noticing the colors bending around him. Then he saw his offering sitting opposite him. His mouth dropped as he took in the sight of small girl, shivering in her flimsy white dress despite the warmth of the day. Her perfect golden hair shimmered with the light of her one Breath.
“Ryeowook.”
“Yes, my Lord?”
“Please tell me that this is some sort of sick joke.”
“I’m afraid not, my Lord.”
“She’s just...she’s a child!”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“I will not take a child’s Breath.”
“She was chosen.”
“I will not.”
Ryeowook scurried back a few steps at the force of Heechul’s words. “My Lord,” he tried, “She is pleased to offer you life.”
Heechul turned to stare at the girl. He knew he couldn’t refuse. They all gave their Breath willingly. Every day, every offering, for the hundreds of years he had been alive. He leaned back against his chair and heard Ryeowook let out a sigh of relief.
He helped the girl forward and she knelt before Heechul, her forehead touching his feet.
She whispered the words to transfer the thin thread of color from her body to Heechul’s and the God thought he was going to be sick.
He saw the color thread weave it’s way out of her mouth and melt into him. He felt it, a drop in the ocean of Breaths he had inside of him, gathered day after day, year after year from people who thought that it would please him. He looked down at her face and pretended that he didn’t see the tear that leaked out the corner of her eye. She was drab in his eyes now, colorless, her previously vibrant hair looking mute and plain.
He laid a hand on it. “Thank you,” he said, and then walked out before he lost his composure. “Give her double compensation,” he ordered, and a priest scurried off almost immediately to comply with his request.
A person could live without Breath. But in all actuality, a colorless life wasn’t much of a life at all.
~~~~
Hangeng had decided to kill the God of War at the age of five. He had stood with his brother and mother watching his house burn down to the ground, their father still tied inside, screaming as the flames licked his skin and pulled the life from him. At age nine, his mother was beaten in front of him and then thrown behind a shed and raped, her last breath escaping as her captor pounded into her bruised flesh. At age fifteen, his brother was taken from him to serve in his country’s military. His regiment was viciously slaughtered a month later during a raid.
He had lost everything because of the Hallandren wars. Because of their Gods who weren’t really Gods, just shells of skin and bone held together by Breath stolen from their people. Murderers, thieves, villains. Hangeng wanted revenge and he was going to get it, one way or another.
He had learned how to be an awakener after the death of his brother. Hangeng had come across a beggar dying in the street and had convinced the man to give him his Breath. It had been the start of a venture driven by hatred, following death like a vulture and taking Breath in exchange for a promise to kill the God of War. He had a sizable amount of them now, slivers of life that enhanced his own. He tried not to think that he was like the Gods. He wasn’t dead. His time wasn’t past. He was alive and they soon wouldn’t be.
He fingered the dagger in his sash as he stood in front of the Court of Gods and contemplated his past. It all came down to this moment.
Unwinding the rope that was around his arm, he Breathed into it, commanding, “Climb,” and the rope wiggled it’s way up the wall, tying itself to something on the parapet. One usually had to be specific when Awakening objects, but Hangeng had used this rope so many times, lengthy commands were superfluous.
He scaled the wall easily, Breathing into the rope again to camouflage it against the dark stone.
He set off at a run, his feet making no sound as he dashed through doors and hallways. He knew where he was going. He had memorized old maps that were in his kingdom, and assuming they hadn’t drastically changed the palace design in the last hundred or so years, he was damn close to where he wanted to be.
There were two priests standing vigilance outside the door he wanted and they were both out cold before they realized that he was there.
He opened the door slowly, sliding into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light.
After a moment, he glided across the floor towards the bed, pulling out his dagger and holding it out in front of him. The figure laying on the bed was prettier than Hangeng expected; even in his sleep, the God made the colors around Hangeng pale in comparison to his own. Raising his dagger, enhanced with so much Breath it was wriggling in Hangeng’s hand, he prepared himself
“You know if you stab me with that you’ll be killed in the most gruesome way possible.”
“Fuck you,” Hangeng hissed, “I’ll stab you until there are so many wounds in your body your Breath won’t be able to compensate for them.”
The God had the audacity to smile. “That’s a lot of stabbing.”
Hangeng regained his head and lunged for the God. Something grabbed his collar and he was yanked backwards mid leap. His dagger went flying, sinking into the wood mantle above the fireplace with a loud thwack.
“My Lord!”
Hangeng gasped for air as someone sat across his throat, making it unable for him to speak. Or move.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, thank you, Ryeowook. Let him up.”
Hangeng clutched at his throat, rasping.
He was hauled onto his knees, his head pushed down onto the ground, forced to bow before a God he hated.
“I will arrange for his immediate execution, my Lord.”
“There is no need for that,” the God returned quickly, “He didn’t actually strike me.”
Hangeng felt his head lifted gently, and he swallowed as he met the God’s eyes, crinkled with a little laughter, like the whole incident was terribly amusing. “Did you now, my little assassin?”
Hangeng growled.
“But my Lord...”
The God chuckled. “Tie him up and gag him. He can spend the night in the dungeons. I’ll decide what to do with him tomorrow.”
~~~~
Heechul had never felt so good. He had almost died and he was the happiest being on the planet. He was sure that if his High Priest knew, he would pop a vein from all the stress.
“My Lord this is all so unconventional,” Ryeowook said from behind him.
“I realize that,” Heechul returned.
“If you would please just allow me to order his death. I do not understand why my Lord insists upon keeping the miscreant alive.“
“He interests me.”
“My Lord Heechul you can’t possibly-“
“Ryeowook,” Heechul’s voice edged into a dangerous rumble, “You are in no place to tell a God what he can and cannot do.”
The High Priest immediately fell to his knees in apology, “I’m sorry, my Lord.”
“I need my High Priest to abide by my wishes,” Heechul said.
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Continue to ignore my commands and I will be speaking with Siwon about your apparent lack of loyalty.”
“I understand, my Lord,” Ryeowook whispered to the floor, obviously scared beyond words at the thought of his superior being informed of his infraction.
“Get up, you’re going to dirty your robes.”
Ryeowook’s attendant had his attacker’s face pressed into the ground when Heechul walked into his audience chamber. “You may allow him to sit, but keep him gagged.”
Heechul sat across from the man with blond hair and stared seriously at him. “I must confess, I am terribly intrigued by you. I’ve decided that in exchange for your life you’re going to give me your Breath.”
“M-My Lord!” Ryeowook spluttered.
Heechul shot the priest a dirty look.
The attendant looked extraordinarily surprised, but he said nothing, only tightening his hold on the man’s blond hair as he spit fury into his gag.
Heechul squatted down in front of the man and undid his gag carefully.
“Fuck you,” the man said immediately, his voice scratchy.
“What’s your name?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“I’m your God, I have a right to know your name.”
“No you are not.”
Heechul raised an eyebrow. “I am a God and you belong to me whether you accept it or not.” After a moment of silence Heechul said, “Would you prefer that my priests torture it out of you?”
“I don’t care what you do.”
“Really?” Heechul reached up and re-tied the gag around his mouth. “Strip him,” he commanded, and the attendant beckoned for two more priests, the three of them pulling the man’s clothes off as his screeches escaped past the gag.
“Why are you just standing there?” Heechul demanded of Ryeowook. “I ought to send you back to be an acolyte under Siwon and make your attendant my High Priest, he at least does what I ask.”
“My apologies,” Ryeowook said and immediately pulled Hangeng’s trousers off folding all the man’s clothes and placing them at the God’s feet.
Heechul sifted through them calmly, ignoring the fact that four priests were having difficulty holding the blond head down. “Did you relieve him of anything last night?”
“No, my Lord,” the attendant said, grimacing as he sat on one of the man’s arms, “he had nothing on him.”
Heechul nodded. They were drab clothes, he noted, the man was probably from the slums, which meant no ID; not that Heechul had been expecting one in the first place. “Well my mysterious little assassin, how are we going to deal with all of this?”
Heechul sat cross legged beside the man and let his eyes roam over the naked body. “So muscular,” the God whispered, “you’re a beautiful man.”
The man struggled against the bodies that held him down.
“Allow me to elaborate on my offer. You give me your Breath. You swear allegiance to me, and I won’t let you be handed over to the executioners as Ryeowook wants. And I’m sure you know exactly how they choose to kill those that come after Gods.”
Ryeowook coughed but said nothing.
“So many give me their Breath willingly,” Heechul crooned, trying not to choke on the doctrine he hated, “And you falter when I offer you the chance to please me. You must truly dislike everything that I am.”
He pulled the gag off once again. “You may allow him to sit up,” he said.
Ryeowook looked relieved that he could release one of the man’s arms and he scuttled away, nervously eyeing the scene before him.
Heechul watched as the man spit blood onto the ground. The God belatedly thought that maybe the attendant shouldn’t have made the gag tight enough to cut into skin.
“Let me ask you something you won’t mind answering. Do you hate me?”
“Yes.”
Progress! Heechul thought delightedly. “Why?”
“You’re the God of War. You’ve taken everything away from me that I love.”
Ah, Heechul thought. “Well that explains a lot.”
“Fuck you.”
“Yes, we’ve been there before. Although, after seeing you naked I think that’s more of a legitimate option.”
Heechul laughed as the man snarled.
“Very well, I will add to the deal. You give me your Breath and swear allegiance to me for a period of thirty days. At the end of those thirty days you may have your Breath back and if you still hate me, you can kill me.”
“My Lord Heechul!” Ryeowook objected.
“Be silent,” Heechul hissed. He was definitely going to have a discussion with Siwon.
The man stared at him. “How can I trust that you’ll keep your word?”
Heechul rolled his eyes but ordered for some parchment and began to write. “You will do everything I say, no questions asked for thirty days. Go where I go, watch what I do, see what I see. If you disobey me within the thirty day period the deal is off and I will hand you over to the executioners. If at the end of it all you decide that I am a worthy God, you can have your Breath back and do whatever you please. If not, than you can kill me and take my place as God of War.”
Ryeowook was groaning.
“How are you going to give me back my Breath?”
“I’m a God,” Heechul reminded the assassin, with a sarcastic roll of his eyes.
“And if you do not keep your word at the end of thirty days?” the man asked again.
“I will,” Heechul replied easily. He finished writing his stipulations and signed his name at the bottom of the page. “Ryeowook, your knife...now, Ryeowook.”
His High Priest swallowed and handed his knife to the God, bowing lower as he got closer as if it might placate the God. Heechul shook his head. He slashed the blade across his thumb and slapped it down onto the paper beside his signature. He was careful not splatter any of the ink with blood; he had spent years perfecting the look of his signature and he was not about to mar it on the rare occasion that he got to use it.
“Sign,” Heechul shoved the paper at the man on the floor, “Either way, you win.”
The man looked back and forth between the paper and Heechul, “And you will not kill me in the thirty days? Nor put me through torture?”
“No,” Heechul promised, “I protect those who swear allegiance to me.”
It took a few more minutes of the man gnawing at his lip before he nodded. “Very well, I agree.”
The color in Ryeowook’s face had completely drained and Heechul hoped that the priest didn’t faint. Heechul handed the assassin the knife and he dutifully opened the skin of his forefinger, smearing it by his signature.
“Excellent!” Heechul said. “Now dress. We’re going to have Siwon hold onto this for us.”
The man reached for his clothes and put them on, obviously very happy that he did not have to expose himself any longer.
Heechul watched, with a small measure of amusement, as Ryeowook wrung his hands, obviously in a terrible tizzy.
“Come here, my little assassin, come and give me your Breath.”
The man shook as he approached, and Heechul decided that he did not begrudge the man his fear. Losing your Breath, even if you knew you were going to get it back, was never an easy thing.
The man knelt and tentatively grasped Heechul’s offered hand.
“Take your time,” Heechul said quietly.
They waited five minutes before the man whispered the words that made his Breath flow out of him and into Heechul. And Gods there was a lot of it. Heechul felt the colors bleed into him, his heart skipping a beat as the color drained from the man on the floor.
Heechul sunk down onto the ground and marveled for a moment at the tears that were running down the man’s face. He realized that for the first time in his immortal life, he could wipe the tears away. So he did. “Deep breaths,” he soothed.
The man was soon calm and Heechul lifted him to his feet. “Now, let’s clear a few things up. First of all, what is your name?”
“Hangeng.”
“I’m going to call you Hankyung. It’s easier to pronounce.”
Heechul watched carefully as annoyance flashed through Hangeng’s eyes but the man only nodded and said, “Very well.”
“You may address me as My Lord.”
“Very well, My Lord.”
Heechul nodded, pleased. It was a good start.
~~~~
Hangeng tried not to pass out as his color left him. The vibrancy, the richness, all of it gone. He might as well be seeing in black and white. He might as well be blind. Fuck you, he thought at the God he was following. Fuck you for making me do this. I’m going to kill you nice and slow when this is done. I don’t know how, but I have just enough time to think every excruciating detail through.
He tried not cry as he passed several large murals on the wall and found that he could not distinguish as many colors as he could have five minutes earlier.
~~~~
Had Heechul known that it was possible to be this happy he would have made this deal with someone decades ago. It had only been ten minutes since signing the contract and he felt like he had sprouted wings. Of course, it was mostly due to the fact that Siwon was carefully reading the document and scowling furiously at it, his disapproval very clear, and his lecture most certainly imminent.
"You're an idiot."
"Isn't it brilliant?"
"Did you at all consider that if you die there will be people that miss you?"
Heechul scoffed. "Siwon, I need a little excitement. Besides, we both know that everyone falls in love with me. It's inevitable. I'm not going to die."
Siwon rolled his eyes, "I just wish you would have spoken to someone beforehand."
"Boring," Heechul singsonged. "Get over it already, and keep that safe. I don't want my blood circling among the masses."
"Ryeowook!" Heechul called, and the High Priest shuffled inside, looking positively petrified. "Take Hankyung's measurements and fit him with some clothes. I will be with Kangin before the meeting later today, you may both find me with him after you're done."
"As you wish, my Lord."
"You would keep company with the God of Death," Siwon muttered irritably.
"Well who else would I spend my time with? Donghae? He lectures me on the evils of war whenever I'm within hearing range!"
"That's because war tears families apart."
"I desperately wish," Heechul muttered, "That people would understand that I do not start wars. I'm perfectly happy with peace. It makes me less busy."
"Less bombarded by petitions you mean?"
"Well considering that's all I'm capable of as a God," Heechul grumbled.
"Are we done? I have acolytes to train."
Heechul sighed. "No. I need a new High Priest."
"What's wrong with Ryeowook?" Siwon asked, looking affronted.
"He doesn't listen to me."
"Well, maybe if you starting making smarter decisions," the contract was waved in front of Heechul's nose and the God smacked it away, annoyed.
"Regardless of whether or not it was a smart decision, I need someone who listens and does what I ask. All he does is nag at me; I don't do well with nagging."
"He's just trying to make you a better God."
"Siwon. If I'm already a God how much better could I possibly be? It does nothing but infuriate me. Let him do his priestly duties with a God that fits his personality. Like Kyuhyun."
Heechul watched his friend chew his lip for a moment before nodding. "You're right."
"Of course I am."
"I can't put him with Kyuhyun, though. He doesn’t want a High Priest.”
"What about Yesung? I heard him yelling at his priest not two days ago."
Siwon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That could work. He and Zhou Mi are bestial to each other at best."
"And Ryeowook adores Yesung," Heechul added, "No need to thank me for thinking of a solution. I'm going to find Kangin; I'll send Ryeowook to you when he arrives with Hangeng."
"So you can pronounce his name."
"Of course. I just love naming things. I can't even help myself."
"Ass," Siwon muttered as Heechul walked out the door.
The God of War raised a hand and wiggled his fingers over his shoulder. "You know you love it."
~~~~
Kangin was readying himself for the daily assembly when Heechul found him. "I hear you did something stupid."
"Wow, it got out that fast? I'm impressed."
"Ryeowook has a big mouth."
"So do you. How many people did you tell?"
"However many I came across."
Heechul grinned. "I'm elated."
"You're an idiot," Kangin tossed a measure of black silk over his shoulder, "When do I get to meet this assassin of yours?"
"Whenever he's done being fitted for proper clothing. I couldn't possibly have him wearing drab outfits."
Heechul watched Kangin finish dressing, commenting dryly, “Black is such a nice color on you.”
“Shut up.”
There was a knock on the door and Ryeowook entered at Kangin’s bidding; Hangeng followed, dressed modestly in various shades of red, the colors terribly unsaturated in his Breathless state.
“You didn’t mention he was colorless.”
“I didn’t mention anything,” Heechul returned, sending a glare at Ryeowook, who bowed his head. “Hankyung, come here. Turn around for me.”
Hangeng spun slowly under Heechul’s critical eye, his only sign of irritation being his tightly pressed lips.
“You are displeased with the clothing?” Heechul asked, keeping his gaze away from Hangeng’s mouth.
“No, my Lord.”
“Excellent. Allow me to introduce Kangin, the God of Death.”
Hangeng bowed politely.
Kangin nodded. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “There’s an old lady choking on a chicken bone that requires my attention.”
“Morbid,” Heechul informed him, wrinkling his nose.
“At least I’m working,” Kangin returned smoothly, “I’ll see you at the assembly.”
~~~~
Hangeng was still in a daze. For the moment, he was simply doing as he was told because he couldn’t formulate any thoughts of his own. The loss of his Breath was just too much to grasp. He followed Heechul out of Kangin’s chambers and stood off the to side as Heechul beckoned for Ryeowook to come closer. Hangeng thought that maybe it was going to be a private conversation until Heechul opened his mouth and practically shouted at his priest.
“How could you tell Kangin?”
“I was bursting,” Ryeowook muttered.
“But Kangin Ryeowook? You know he can’t keep a secret.”
“You were going to tell him anyway.”
“In my own good time. Ryeowook I can’t keep doing this with you. You are hereby released as my High Priest. Siwon has your new assignment.”
“B-but...My Lord please, I’ll try harder.”
“You won’t. We both know you won’t.”
“All I know is you, please don’t do this to me, please.”
Hangeng thought that the colors splattered on the ceiling were beautiful and he wondered what they would look like if he still had his Breath.
“Ryeowook, you know that’s not true. You’ll be a much better priest with someone else.”
“There is no one else.”
Hangeng watched as Heechul pinched the bridge of his nose. Ryeowook fell onto his knees in front of the God of War and begged, pleaded to kept at his side.
“Enough,” Heechul said forcefully after a full minute of Ryeowook’s tears, “This is silly. You’re going to be with Yesung and Zhou Mi is coming to be with me. I know you adore Yesung so get up already and thank me.”
Hangeng was sure that Ryeowook’s heart had stopped because his features froze for a horrifying second. Then he looked up and Hangeng was surprised to see utter joy etched into the priest’s features.
“Really?”
“Yes. Now get up and go to him, before your begging changes my mind.”
“Thank you,” Ryeowook whispered fiercely, immediately standing up and grasping Heechul’s hands tightly, “Thank you so much.”
“Send Zhou Mi to me when you get there,” Heechul ordered.
“I will; Thank you so much my Lord.”
Heechul pointed a finger down the corridor and Ryeowook took off at a run, whooping with joy. Hangeng wondered if he had found the right God of War. His God was supposed to be ruthless, mean, and ugly not...not Heechul.
“Come, the assembly awaits.” Heechul beckoned as he started after Ryeowook, “We don’t want to be late.”
Heechul said nothing as they walked through the impeccable corridors, the wide windows allowing prisms of light to cast rainbows on the walls. He led them through several doors, mostly white, and into a room that looked something like a theater.
“Each God has a box,” Heechul informed him quietly as they stepped past a God conferring quietly with a priest. “We meet once a day, just to keep up with anything pressing...which there usually isn’t.”
They stepped into their box which was very appropriately colored a blood red and Hangeng couldn’t help but admire the way the color reacted to Heechul’s presence. The God patted the seat next to him and Hangeng sat down tentatively.
“I’m sure you’ll meet them all later because each one is a nosy bastard but I figure a head’s up is only fair to you. The God we passed on the way in is Leeteuk. He’s the God of Love. That’s his High Priest Henry. Leeteuk is sort of with Kangin but not really. Only when Kangin isn’t escorting lovers into the afterlife; which of course isn’t his decision but Leeteuk feels like he has to blame someone for all the broken hearted lovers that come to petition him every day.”
Hangeng nodded. What else was he supposed to do?
“So...Kangin you’ve met,” Heechul mused as the God of Death walked inside, “And that’s Donghae behind him. He’s God of Families. And that’s his High Priest Eunhyuk. Kibum is God of Time, Kyuhyun God of Dreams, and there’s Yesung. He’s God of the Arts.”
Hangeng watched as Heechul smiled at Ryeowook who bowed deeply from his position behind Yesung. A taller man followed both of them and Hangeng watched him tentatively approach Heechul’s box. “Zhou Mi,” Heechul greeted.
“My Lord,” the man bowed gracefully.
Heechul beckoned and Zhou Mi entered the box, casting a suspicious eye in Hangeng’s direction.
“This is Hankyung; I’ve no doubt you’ve heard of him by now.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Excellent, I won’t bother with the tale then.”
Hangeng felt himself nudged and he hurriedly stood and bowed to Zhou Mi.
“You were so polite to Kangin,” Heechul sniffed.
Siwon was the last to enter. Hangeng had only gotten a quick glimpse earlier, but he thought the God was very handsome. “If I may ask, does Siwon have a title?”
Heechul sighed. “Siwon...Siwon is the God of making sure everyone does what they’re supposed to do. I think.”
“Like a God King?” Hangeng asked, remembering the tales of his youth.
“Sort of. No one’s really used that title in thousands of years, though. He’s more like a book keeper slash priest trainer. We all respect him even though we’ve all been here longer than he has.”
“The Gods have anyway,” Zhou Mi added from his position behind Heechul.
Siwon cleared his throat and Heechul turned his attention to jack of all trades God, settling back against the cushions which were bleeding a dark red.
“First order of business, in case you haven’t already noticed: Ryeowook is going to serve with Yesung from now on and Zhou Mi with Heechul.”
“About fucking time,” Hangeng heard someone mutter.
Heechul growled a little in his throat and Hangeng wondered if the God was upset that he was being attacked or his former priest.
“I would just like to remind everyone and Leeteuk,” a God said from across the room, “That I am still uninterested in a High Priest. Or Priestess.”
Kyuhyun, Hangeng remembered after a moment.
“Um, thank you, Kyuhyun. I’ll keep that in mind. Second order of business-“
“Can we just discuss what’s burning on the tip of our tongues right now?” The God next to Kyuhyun asked.
“This is where it gets really good,” Heechul whispered, looking ecstatic.
Hangeng frowned and tried to remember the God’s name. Oh right. Donghae. The God that had abandoned his family. Hangeng wondered if maybe he should have gone after Donghae instead of Heechul.
“Heechul is a moron.” Donghae announced, as if it was going to win him an award.
Kyuhyun let out a sigh before anyone could speak and leaned back in his blue chair, closing his eyes. “Wake me when you’re all done bitching.”
Apparently this was an expected reaction, because no one paid any attention to him. Leeteuk stood and said, “Let’s just all try to talk through this rationally.”
“Our laws are clear,” Donghae returned hotly, “Assassins are to be executed.”
“Yet I’m not dead,” Heechul had a feral grin on his face, “So technically Hankyung isn’t really an assassin.”
“Your logic is flawed,” Donghae insisted, a pink tinge showing on his cheeks.
“My Lord Donghae,” Zhou Mi said quietly, rising and offering a polite bow, “With all due respect, regardless of the law, the final decision lies with my Lord Heechul.”
“But-“ Donghae began.
“Donghae,” Kyuhyun said quietly from his reclined position, “The fact that a High Priest is defending the position of a God he was just assigned five minutes ago is speaking volumes against your case.”
“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“Zhou Mi’s sensible words kept me from my dreams.”
“You create your dreams,” Donghae hissed.
Hangeng saw a small smirk creep up into the corner of Kyuhyun’s mouth, “That I do. Occasionally real life is better than what I can create.”
Donghae let out a huff and sat back down.
“Heechul is correct in his assessment of the situation,” Siwon said carefully, “This is his decision and we will abide by it. However, Hangeng, do something to disrupt the peace of this court and your circumstances will most likely change.”
Hangeng bowed.
~~~~
Hangeng always found peace at night. He had hoped that the darkest hours of the City of Gods was no exception. His new master’s (not God’s) wishes were dashing his hopes.
“You’re going to sleep in my bed,” Heechul informed him.
The assembly had lasted for three hours. Kyuhyun had indeed fallen asleep after his comments to Donghae and Heechul zoned out soon after. Hangeng was terribly amused to note that an hour into it, the High Priests were all speaking on their Gods behalf. Zhou Mi explained to him that the assembly was really the only time the High Priests could confer with each other and the Gods allowed them the few hours in exchange for naps.
Hangeng wasn’t sure if he should be pissed or not.
“Sorry what?” He asked before he could control his tongue.
“I said,” Heechul raised an eyebrow, “That we will be sharing a bed. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No my Lord,” Hangeng whispered, bowing his head meekly. He heard Heechul’s feet on the stone floor and felt his face lifted.
“I gave you my word that I will not harm you, did I not?”
“You did, my Lord.”
“You needn’t fear sharing my bed. I will not do anything you do not want.”
Hangeng heard the light teasing but he ignored it, only nodding his head dutifully.
“Good, now get in, I’m tired.”
Hangeng stayed awake, marveling at how the reds in the room shifted around Heechul even as the God slept. He was about to think that maybe could give Heechul a quicker death than originally planned when the God rolled over and slung an arm around Hangeng’s middle.
Hangeng tried to extricate himself but Heechul only held on tighter, his nose managing to land in the crook of the would-be-assassin’s neck.
As the God’s breath feathered over Hangeng’s skin, somehow managing to lull him into a deep sleep, all thoughts of mercy fled his mind.
He dreamt of Kyuhyun laughing his ass off at the two of them.
Fuck you all, he thought; Kyuhyun continued to chuckle.
Part 2
A/N I'm supposed to be writing law!verse. But I saw my name and my brain exploded everywhere. I've totally mutilated everything that is Brandon Sanderson's awesome. I suggest you read his book Warbreaker. It's fantastic. If you don't have money to buy it or you can't where you're located, you can read it for free on his website here. He actually has a ton of versions you can download so you can see his writing process. It's pretty neat.
Having said that...thanks for reading this really long piece of fail? If you stuck through to the end, the other parts should be up soon. My brain is exploding with this story.
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CAN'T WAIT TILL SUNGMIN APPEARS. HE IS RIGHT?
I...like SiHan much more? ^_^*
No, your YeWook is lovely! I want more YeWook! Like how does Yesung treat Wook?
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Okay. That's a good reason lol. I don't know how much Yewook there will be...we'll see. I don't want too many pairings in this; it's not supposed to be too long lol.
<3