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Color is Insanity in Material Form 2
I thought I going to have this done yesterday, but I was too tired to write a lot last night when I got back from work. Hopefully this'll be done over the weekend. And yes. Law!verse is coming.
~~~~~
The first week was as terrible as Hangeng thought it would be. Heechul was insufferable with his petty demands and requests. Hangeng was comforted only by the fact that he remained unharmed.
Laying in bed at night while dreaming up painful ways for Heechul to die also allowed him a few hours of mirth. He would fall asleep thinking about peeling Heechul’s skin from his body with a dull knife when Kyuhyun would pop into his mind and inform him that really, it was useless. “You’re going to fall into a love/hate relationship like everyone else in the court and never leave Heechul’s side.”
Hangeng would try to punch Kyuhyun every time he said this but the God would disappear before the fist could land. Almost always a vicious tiger would take his place and proceed to chase Hangeng up a steep mountain and tear him into painful bits at the top of it.
Kyuhyun would always smirk when he saw Hangeng during the day but say nothing concerning the nightly visits. After Heechul, Hangeng was sure that Kyuhyun was his least favorite God.
One other comfort that Hangeng found was in Zhou Mi. The priest was perhaps kinder than was required, but if not for him Hangeng would have been lost in all the politics of the court.
“My Lords Leeteuk and Donghae are pretty much interwoven,” Zhou Mi told him quietly during an Assembly the third day. Heechul had already fallen asleep. “If you need to accomplish something having one of them on your side guarantees the other, usually. And if you have Lord Leeteuk, than you’ll most likely also have Lord Kangin because the God of Death does anything to placate the God of Love.”
“And Kibum?” Hangeng asked.
“Lord Kibum, “ Zhou Mi stressed, “Is very similar to the God of Dreams.”
“But Kibum has a High Priest,” Hangeng intentionally left out Lord, making Zhou Mi pull a sour face.
“Sungmin,” Zhou Mi nodded, “Lord Kyuhyun always places his cards with them; it’s a given, no one even bothers to ask him anymore. My Lord Yesung tends to lean towards the way they think as well but...usually because I would talk him into it. It will be interesting to see where Ryeowook encourages him to lay his vote.”
“And Heechul?”
The God of War twisted in his seat like he knew Hangeng was being disrespectful.
“Unpredictable. No one ever counts on having him on their side; he’s like a wild card. And before you ask, my Lord Siwon doesn’t get a vote, usually. He forfeited that opportunity when he accepted the position of peusdo-leading this mad array of Gods.”
Hangeng nodded and sat back, half listening as the priests talked about better ways to control the flow of petitions.
“We need to face the facts,” Sungmin was saying, “We need to correct the way people automatically assume that the Gods have direct control over everything. Someone came and complained - complained - that the sprinkle of rain we had today was not the downpour that had been requested.”
“My Lord Leeteuk had someone petition for sun so they could have a picnic outside,” Henry said thoughtfully, “Perhaps the drizzle was a compromise.”
There was a moment of silence before Sungmin continued speaking, throwing a doubtful glance at Leeteuk’s High Priest. “Be that as it may, the people need to be reminded that our Lords are Returned. They are here as role models, not to cater to the people’s every whim so that life isn’t difficult.”
“I agree,” Ryeowook said quietly, “my Lord Yesung is tired of people asking him to give them magical instruments which will make them talented or install knowledge into their minds and fingers so they needn’t practice.”
“I think we all agree,” Zhou Mi piped in, smiling as always, “We all know that we agree. We need to figure out how to fix it.”
“And I suppose you have an idea?” Sungmin asked.
“I do. I think we need to send storytellers out into the streets. Singers, dancers, whatever, to retell the stories of the Gods. To instill in the people the awe that was once there.”
Hangeng knew it was brilliant. Tell their stories, remind the people of who and what the Gods were, and theoretically there would be a change in attitude, a broader understanding of who exactly lived in this palace. The Gods would be real.
Ryeowook looked positively thrilled, and Hangeng knew that by using the avenue of arts, Zhou Mi had immediately garnered support. Sungmin was already nodding. Henry and Eunhyuk were leaning over the sides of their boxes, whispering furiously together.
“It’s difficult for them,” Zhou Mi whispered, “They like the idea but they’d rather not automatically agree.”
“And Shindong?”
“Shindong’s only concern is my Lord Leeteuk. He’ll side with Henry. I know it sounds bad,” Zhou Mi added as Hangeng made a face, “But as the High Priest for the God of Death, he really cares little about people that are still alive. My Lord Kangin trusts my Lord Leeteuk to make the right decisions for them, therefore, Shindong sides with Henry.”
“How do you know all this?” Hangeng asked.
“Besides decades of experience? Kyuhyun,” Zhou Mi replied, glancing over at the God and smiling faintly before clearing his throat. Hangeng couldn’t help but notice how Zhou Mi dropped the Lord.
“How does Kyuhyun know?”
“He sees everyone’s dreams,” Zhou Mi replied, “Dreams show nothing but truth, even if it’s hidden under layers and layers of metaphor. He’s very good at interpretation.”
Hangeng glanced back and forth between the God and Zhou Mi before tentatively asking, “Why does Kyuhyun tell you?”
“I ask him,” Zhou Mi replied.
That doesn’t answer my question, Hangeng thought grumpily but he remained silent as Henry and Eunhyuk pulled away.
“We agree,” Henry said.
“And now we see how long it takes before we actually send someone out onto the streets,” Zhou Mi grumbled under his breath, going to rouse Heechul from his sleep.
If Hangeng learned anything in his first week, it was that the priests did even more talking and less work than the Gods, despite all outward appearances.
~~~~~
By the second week, Hangeng was already bored with Heechul’s daily schedule. The only part of the day that Hangeng anticipated, besides the end of it, was the beginning. Heechul would always scrutinize art that was sent to him as gifts just after breakfast. He would sometimes spend hours trying to interpret the meaning of the colors, wondering aloud if the painter had known just how many colors Heechul could see because of his Breath.
Sometimes he would pull Hangeng over and ask his opinion. Hangeng had never missed having Breath more than those moments. Today was no different.
“My Lord,” Zhou Mi tossed Hangeng a sad smile as he passed, “It’s time for petitions.”
“I like this one,” Heechul said, indicating the painting that he had been examining, “And my little assassin likes it as well. Have it sent to my rooms. The rest can go into the gallery.”
“Certainly, Lord Heechul. If you’ll please,” Zhou Mi waved a hand to end his request and Heechul nodded.
“Hankyung! Come!” Heechul beckoned, and Hangeng followed, inwardly bracing himself for another tedious day of nothing.
~~~~~
Heechul swept ceremoniously into his audience chamber, watching out of the corner of his eye as Hangeng sat down in his usual corner. Zhou Mi came to hover by the God’s shoulder.
The first few petitions were the same as always. Thank you for the peace, Great One, thank you for protecting us. Thank you for being so spectacular...blah, blah, blah Heechul said in his head as he smiled and nodded and watched his priests hand out food. It wasn’t like he didn’t mind the attention. He loved it. He just...didn’t want the same attention over and over and over again. It was bland.
He smiled generously at the next man on his knees who was shuffling forward awkwardly.
“What can I do for you?” How can I help you? What is it you seek? What question do you have? Heechul had a list of a hundred lines in his head that he ran through daily. He could recite them in his sleep. He imagined that when he did, Hangeng laughed himself silly.
“I have a humble request of my Lord.”
Heechul waited, readying his hand to wave priests forward with food or gold.
“I would like to have my Lord Heechul’s permission to make war.”
Heechul blinked. "I'm sorry could you repeat that?"
"I request my Lord's blessing to start a war."
Heechul looked at Zhou Mi as if to confirm that he had heard correctly. Zhou Mi only took a step back further, shrugging.
“What’s your name?” Heechul asked, standing up and towering over the man huddled into a ball on the floor.
“Kim Jihyun," The man murmured, impossibly bowing lower, his red clothing deepening in color as Heechul drew nearer.
“Why do you wish to disrupt the peace, Kim Jihyun? You have most likely heard all the grateful citizens who have come before me today in celebration of it.”
“I did,” Kim Jihyun said, “But...My Lord, my land is being ravaged, the women from my village are being raped, and I desire to protect the things I love.”
Heechul scoffed, his blood boiling at the thought of a man who had to ask permission to be a man. “I must be missing something. Why do you need my permission to fight off raiders? Or are you seriously asking me to bless your countries endeavors to invade another country because you lack the ability to ‘protect the things you love?’”
“I do not lack the ability, my Lord,” the man said, sounding angry.
“You will watch your tone,” Zhou Mi said quietly, “You speak to a God.”
The man cowered further against the stone, properly chastised. Heechul drew a breath to calm himself. “So if you do not lack the ability then why are you before me? Revenge? Boredom? I’m sorry, Kim Jihyun, but war is never worth any of those things.”
“I ask for my pride,” Kim Jihyun said quietly.
“So your pride is worth thousands of lives?” Heechul asked again, “I’m sorry but you do not have my blessing.”
“My Lord, I must do this. You must allow me to do this.”
“Then do it,” Heechul said, waving a hand. “Kim Jihyun, I did not Return to stop you from making bad decisions. I am here as a role model; I’ve Returned because of the choices I made while I was human, not so I can magically make you good people. If you want to gather your King’s soldiers and march on a foreign country than you may do so, though the blood will be on your hands.”
“My Lord your blessing means so much-“
“And you do not have it,” Heechul reiterated, “Nor will you get any support from me. And if you have no support from me you will not have any from the other Gods. Now leave my presence. I hope you make the right decision.”
Heechul set his jaw as he watched the man stand and leave. Maybe bland is a good thing, Heechul thought. “That is enough for today, I think, Zhou Mi.”
His High Priest nodded, and the remaining petitioners were ushered out.
“I’m calling Assembly early,” Heechul hissed, marching out the door, his red robes swishing around him viciously, “I know the High Priests already spoke of this, and I’m grateful for it, but it’s time for the Gods to discuss it. I’m sick and tired of all this...this whatever the hell it is.”
~~~~~
“I had at least another two hours worth of petitions, Heechul,” Leeteuk said, “This had better be important.”
“I just had someone come and ask me permission to start a war because his village was raided.”
There was a fearful and perhaps respectful moment of silence before Donghae whispered, “And you said no, right?”
“Of course I said no!” Heechul snapped, and Donghae took an involuntary step backward, “I don’t start wars. You all know this. The problem is the people don’t. They think I begin and end wars,” Heechul pointed to Leeteuk, “They think you can make any one fall in love; they think Kangin can keep people from dying; they think Yesung can give them hands of artists; they think Donghae can fix their familial problems. We know that we’re here solely because we were a perfect lover, or a perfect soldier, or a perfect whatever. We’re here to show them how to be perfect.”
“Our High Priests discussed this,” Kibum said quietly, though he looked mildly disturbed.
“And it’s now time that we do,” Heechul rumbled, “I don’t ever want someone to stand in front of me again and ask me to shoulder the burden for thousands upon thousands of lives. To take their blood on my hands. And I know none of you want to deal with the repercussions of a war; it will effect everyone. You don’t even want it,” Heechul added, pointing to Kangin.
The God of Death nodded.
“How do we go about preventing it?” Donghae asked.
“This is what I’m saying. What have we been doing, individually and as a group, since we Returned? We’re supposed to be role models but really, what are we modeling when we allow people to come to us, when we do nothing but smile at people when they line up for hours every day to see us for five seconds? What are they seeing?”
“What’s your point? Have you already thought up an resolution?”
Hangeng knew what Heechul was going to do before it happened. There was something about the God’s feral grin that tipped Hangeng off.
“What do you think?”
Hangeng stared back innocently.
“Why are you asking him?” Donghae asked, obviously unimpressed with Heechul’s solution. Hangeng pretended not to be offended.
“Because he’s not one of us. Because he was frustrated enough to want to kill me, so he knows what needs to be changed. And because he’s smart.”
All the Gods turned their gaze to Hangeng. “Um...” he said, except it came out as a squeak.
“Great,” Kibum quipped, “Problem solved.”
~~~~~
“Why did you say that?” Hangeng asked later that night, after he had died of shame.
“That you could solve the issue?” Heechul asked, back to admiring the new painting on his wall.
“No, that you wouldn’t give your blessing for a war.”
Heechul turned around and eyed him, “Were you listening to me at all today? I don’t start or end wars.”
“But...you’re the God of War, shouldn’t you like them?”
“I like peace just as much as war. Besides, aren’t all wars fought so that we can eventually attain peace? I fought epic battles when I was human. The stories say I swaggered onto the battle field and cut down everything in front of me. They say I had a wife and a kid and I loved them to pieces. They say that everything I did, I did for my family, that I created the peace we have today. Why would I start a war to destroy something I created?”
Heechul went back to the painting. “As silly as we all are, we Gods know that we’re here for a reason. But since the people have forgotten that, we’ve...I think maybe we’ve stopped caring.”
The God smiled faintly and turned back to Hangeng, tipping his chin up with a perfectly manicured finger. “And even though you didn’t ask, yes, I still think the answer is locked in your brain somewhere. I intend on getting it out before my thirty days are up.”
You’ll be dead in thirty days and then it won’t matter.
“Come to bed, I’m tired.”
Hangeng still hadn’t figured out why Heechul needed them to go to sleep at the same time, but he obediently did as requested.
He dreamt of Heechul charging across a battlefield, red hair streaming out behind him, each strand becoming a ray of sunlight that blinded his enemies.
Kyuhyun’s voice snickered into Hangeng’s ear.
~~~~~
At the end of the second week, Hangeng decided that he had garnered enough courage.
“My Lord,” he said, as they walked up to Heechul’s rooms after a failed Assembly meeting.
“Yes?”
“The...the war all those years ago...”
Heechul abruptly stopped in front of him. “What about it?”
“Were you...involved in it?”
Zhou Mi had a “do not ask such stupid questions” look on his face, but Hangeng ignored the priest.
“Yes,” Heechul said quietly.
“You gave your support?” Hangeng questioned.
“I never give my support to any war. I was overwhelmed with pleas and requests to stop it. So I left the palace and went onto the battlefield.”
Hangeng remembered that day. He remembered being blinded by the colors that bended around the God. He remembered his friends being slaughtered in front of him because the God had decided to “intervene.”
“You were there?” Heechul asked softly after a few minutes of silence.
“Yes.”
“I am ashamed of what happened,” Heechul admitted. “I walked out and saw...all that destruction. I thought...they are all fighting for the same thing, there is no evil here, just misunderstanding.”
“The fighting didn’t stop,” Hangeng accused, blinking back tears, “It kept going because each side thought you were there in support of them.”
“I know,” Heechul said, his voice oddly sad, “That is why I no longer place myself in such situations.”
“You want to again.”
“No,” Heechul corrected, “I don’t want to be blamed for other people’s choices and mistakes. If the people didn’t automatically assume that I was there with support than none of it would have ever happened.”
Hangeng took a few breaths to control himself.
“You came to kill me because you thought me responsible for the deaths of those you loved,” Heechul said quietly, “I know you know exactly what I mean when I say that people always think it’s the fault of the Gods. They’re wrong.”
Hangeng didn’t bring it up again.
For the rest of the week, he dreamt of Heechul walking up to him on the battlefield that day and apologizing. Hangeng woke up crying every morning.
~~~~~
Half way into the third week (with no solution in sight,) Hangeng was lying in bed thinking about what he would do with his life once Heechul was dead, when he felt a hand slide across his middle. He sighed and tried to pull away.
"Stop it."
Hangeng twitched involuntarily, "I didn't realize you were awake, my Lord."
"That doesn't matter," Heechul lectured sleepily, "Even if I ask for something in my sleep it is still a request."
"Of course, my Lord."
"Heechul." The God stressed.
"What?" Hangeng asked, slightly afraid.
"When we are alone I want you to call me Heechul."
"Whatever you wish," Hangeng all but whispered, belatedly adding, "Heechul."
"You would never agree to what I wish,” Heechul mumbled into Hangeng's neck and the assassin was sure that the God hadn’t actually meant to say that. Hate, Hangeng reminded himself, You hate this man...God. Thing.
When he was sure Heechul was asleep, Hangeng whispered back, “I agreed to give you anything you desired."
He thought he dreamt of Kyuhyun whispering into his ear, "I told you so." It was nothing but a hazy memory in the morning so he dismissed it, squaring his shoulders and bracing his mind for another long stretch of dull, Breathless hours spent catering to Heechul's every whim.
"Eat," Heechul ordered, shoving a plate of food in front of Hangeng's nose. "You're too skinny."
You're one to talk, Hangeng thought bitterly, but automatically picked up his utensils and ate.
"How are you doing?" Heechul asked like he did every morning.
"Terrible, my Lord," Hangeng replied automatically, even though he was a little less terrible than the day before.
“It’ll get better,” Heechul said, reaching out to pat Hangeng’s head. The God’s eyes told him that he knew it was getting better but that he found Hangeng’s little white lie amusing so he let it pass.
The art that day was dull. Heechul didn’t spend more than five minutes in front of one piece. Hangeng fell asleep while standing against the wall, only waking when Zhou Mi whacked him over the head. “I suppose they can go into the gallery,” Heechul drawled, “But I really don’t like any of them. We’ll start petitions early today, Zhou Mi.”
The High Priest raised his eyebrows.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes, my Lord. My apologies.”
“Are you not feeling well?”
“I’m fine. I just...was not expecting you to start petitions early.”
Heechul hummed. “I suppose it is uncharacteristic of me. Come, Hankyung. You’re going to sit with me today.”
“What?” Hangeng asked, staring stupidly after the God.
Zhou Mi groaned.
~~~~
Heechul had Hangeng sit on the ground by his throne. “Sit there and look regal,” he directed.
Easy for you to say, Hangeng grumbled to himself, you have Breath.
There hadn’t been any odd petitions since the last one. In fact, there seemed to be more people coming to thank Heechul for not supporting wars than there had been before the Kim Jihyun incident. Heechul himself smiled more and rolled his eyes less so Hangeng had to figure that maybe he was serious about revamping the Gods’ approach to mortals.
Hangeng pasted a smile on his face and ignored the odd looks he was getting shot from underneath the fringes of bangs or cowls of cloaks.
“What can I do for you?” Heechul asked, and Hangeng realized that Heechul was back to the top of his questions lists. It hadn’t taken the assassin long to realize that Heechul had one; and it had taken him an even shorter amount of time to memorize it himself.
“I’m sorry,” the man whispered, “But I’m going to have to kill you.”
Too bad for you. He’s mine, Hangeng thought with a wry smile. Seriously, what a way to ask for something.
Not until Heechul hit the floor, blood pouring out of his side, did Hangeng realize that actually, the man was serious, and had someone managed to make Heechul bleed from several feet away.
Heechul’s priests were already pushing everyone out the door. Hangeng’s eyes narrowed as it further sunk into his brain that Heechul was on the floor. Bleeding. Hangeng threw himself at Heechul without thinking, covering the God, feeling slightly relieved as the man’s next missile sank into Heechul’s chair and not Heechul himself. “You’re so useless,” Hangeng muttered and he started to breathe again when he heard Heechul chuckle.
Zhou Mi managed to pin the assassin to the floor, hissing all sorts of horrible punishments into the man’s ear.
Heechul’s moaned in pain as Hangeng maneuvered himself off the God. “Are you alright my Lord?” Hangeng asked, pressing his hands to Heechul’s side.
“S’not too bad,” Heechul mumbled into the floor, “I heal quick.”
“Because losing several pints of blood in a few seconds isn’t bad at all. Who would be the most helpful right now?”
“You.”
Hangeng looked up and beckoned to a queasy looking priest standing off to the side. “You. Go get Siwon,” Hangeng ordered, because Heechul was obviously delirious and had obviously meant to say the other God’s name.
The priest glanced at the God’s blood, swallowed hard, and rushed off.
“You order people around nicely. I approve.”
Hangeng snorted.
“You’re doing good,” Heechul continued.
“I’m not doing anything,” Hangeng returned, positive that Heechul had completely lost it.
“You’re saving my pathetic eternal existence. Seriously. What kind of immortal am I if I can be killed?”
“A pretty shitty one.”
The shared a small smile before Siwon burst into the room looking panicked.
~~~~
Courtesy of a few people offering Heechul their breath, the God healed quickly. He was back on his feet in no time at all, just as energetic and twice as bitchy.
“Out. Of. My. Way,” Heechul hissed at his priests, and they scurried like mice. “Honestly. I start drama with people, they do not start it with me. Not that I’m complaining about my recent popularity, but this is far too much.”
“I will assign some guards to your-“
“Like that is going to stop people. Something is going on outside and I need to know what the hell it is. Find me someone who can get me information that the other Gods will hear. Right now all they care about is executing my attacker, which is fine, but there’s a bigger picture and I want to know it.”
“Of course, my Lord.”
“And,” Heechul added, spinning on his foot, “Before they kill him, make sure someone gets some sort of useful information out of him. I will not have this peace disrupted.”
“Immediately, my Lord,” Zhou Mi bowed and scurried off.
The God turned his attention to Hangeng.
“Go up to my rooms and wait for me,” Heechul ordered, “I have a few things to take care of; I’ll be there shortly.”
Hangeng bowed obediently and trudged back up to the God’s chambers, his mind already racing with the millions of things Heechul could possibly have to accomplish without him.
Nothing came to mind.
Hangeng spent a fair amount of time pacing in front of the God’s fire place. And then in front of the bed. And then in front of the window.
Why exactly am I caring about him? He wondered.
Hangeng pondered for a moment, and then realized that he didn’t and promptly snuggled himself down into Heechul’s blankets and fall asleep.
He didn’t even have time to dream before someone was shaking him. “Go ‘way,” he mumbled.
“Get up, my little assassin, I have something for you.”
“Go ‘way,’ Hangeng repeated, brain still full of sleepy fuzz.
“Hankyung.”
Hangeng’s stomach dropped at the tone of voice and he sat up too fast, disorienting himself.
“My Lord. I’m sorry. I didn’t...I’m sor-” Hangeng paused mid sentence, finally aware that Heechul wasn’t yelling at him, “Aren’t you angry?”
“Yes,” Heechul replied, “Now get out of bed.”
Hangeng tumbled out of the sheets, wondering when he had started caring about Heechul emotions. He wasn’t sure what to think when he finally looked Heechul up and down and saw him holding rope. His rope. With his Breath in it.
“What-”
“It took me awhile to find it. But you know, it had Breath in it so it wasn’t as difficult as I thought. Your camouflage sucked, by the way.”
Hangeng wet his lips, memories of life with Breath flooding back to him.
“Take it.”
“Th-thirty days.”
“You saved my life. You miss having Breath, I can see it every time you look at paintings. Or me,” the God smirked, pushing the rope into Hangeng’s hands.
The assassin stared at it. “What’s the catch?”
“There is no catch. You saved me, I’m rewarding you, our deal continues as normal.”
But I’m going to kill you.
Heechul smiled and Hangeng sunk to his knees, staring at the rope wrapped around his palms, at his Breath touching his skin.
“Do it,” Heechul whispered into Hangeng’s ear, and Hangeng needed no further urging.
He couldn’t help the tears. Couldn’t help the sobbing gasp that escaped out of him as everything burst back into life. It was only three strands, only three Breaths, but they were better than nothing. So much better than nothing. The rope slipped from his fingers as the color swirled in front of his eyes. He didn’t realize that Heechul was holding him until they cleared.
He decided that he didn’t care.
“Thank you,” he whispered, “thank you, thank you, thank you.” Hangeng wasn’t sure if it was the Breath or if it was the way he kept saying thank you over and over or if it was the way Heechul was smiling at him, but before he could rationally think about it, Hangeng was kissing the God senseless. Just because he could.
Part 3
~~~~
I felt like some of it was sort of rushed but I really don't want this to be a long story so I desperately hope this isn't confusing.
And that it's still interesting.
Comments get you my eternal love
~~~~~
The first week was as terrible as Hangeng thought it would be. Heechul was insufferable with his petty demands and requests. Hangeng was comforted only by the fact that he remained unharmed.
Laying in bed at night while dreaming up painful ways for Heechul to die also allowed him a few hours of mirth. He would fall asleep thinking about peeling Heechul’s skin from his body with a dull knife when Kyuhyun would pop into his mind and inform him that really, it was useless. “You’re going to fall into a love/hate relationship like everyone else in the court and never leave Heechul’s side.”
Hangeng would try to punch Kyuhyun every time he said this but the God would disappear before the fist could land. Almost always a vicious tiger would take his place and proceed to chase Hangeng up a steep mountain and tear him into painful bits at the top of it.
Kyuhyun would always smirk when he saw Hangeng during the day but say nothing concerning the nightly visits. After Heechul, Hangeng was sure that Kyuhyun was his least favorite God.
One other comfort that Hangeng found was in Zhou Mi. The priest was perhaps kinder than was required, but if not for him Hangeng would have been lost in all the politics of the court.
“My Lords Leeteuk and Donghae are pretty much interwoven,” Zhou Mi told him quietly during an Assembly the third day. Heechul had already fallen asleep. “If you need to accomplish something having one of them on your side guarantees the other, usually. And if you have Lord Leeteuk, than you’ll most likely also have Lord Kangin because the God of Death does anything to placate the God of Love.”
“And Kibum?” Hangeng asked.
“Lord Kibum, “ Zhou Mi stressed, “Is very similar to the God of Dreams.”
“But Kibum has a High Priest,” Hangeng intentionally left out Lord, making Zhou Mi pull a sour face.
“Sungmin,” Zhou Mi nodded, “Lord Kyuhyun always places his cards with them; it’s a given, no one even bothers to ask him anymore. My Lord Yesung tends to lean towards the way they think as well but...usually because I would talk him into it. It will be interesting to see where Ryeowook encourages him to lay his vote.”
“And Heechul?”
The God of War twisted in his seat like he knew Hangeng was being disrespectful.
“Unpredictable. No one ever counts on having him on their side; he’s like a wild card. And before you ask, my Lord Siwon doesn’t get a vote, usually. He forfeited that opportunity when he accepted the position of peusdo-leading this mad array of Gods.”
Hangeng nodded and sat back, half listening as the priests talked about better ways to control the flow of petitions.
“We need to face the facts,” Sungmin was saying, “We need to correct the way people automatically assume that the Gods have direct control over everything. Someone came and complained - complained - that the sprinkle of rain we had today was not the downpour that had been requested.”
“My Lord Leeteuk had someone petition for sun so they could have a picnic outside,” Henry said thoughtfully, “Perhaps the drizzle was a compromise.”
There was a moment of silence before Sungmin continued speaking, throwing a doubtful glance at Leeteuk’s High Priest. “Be that as it may, the people need to be reminded that our Lords are Returned. They are here as role models, not to cater to the people’s every whim so that life isn’t difficult.”
“I agree,” Ryeowook said quietly, “my Lord Yesung is tired of people asking him to give them magical instruments which will make them talented or install knowledge into their minds and fingers so they needn’t practice.”
“I think we all agree,” Zhou Mi piped in, smiling as always, “We all know that we agree. We need to figure out how to fix it.”
“And I suppose you have an idea?” Sungmin asked.
“I do. I think we need to send storytellers out into the streets. Singers, dancers, whatever, to retell the stories of the Gods. To instill in the people the awe that was once there.”
Hangeng knew it was brilliant. Tell their stories, remind the people of who and what the Gods were, and theoretically there would be a change in attitude, a broader understanding of who exactly lived in this palace. The Gods would be real.
Ryeowook looked positively thrilled, and Hangeng knew that by using the avenue of arts, Zhou Mi had immediately garnered support. Sungmin was already nodding. Henry and Eunhyuk were leaning over the sides of their boxes, whispering furiously together.
“It’s difficult for them,” Zhou Mi whispered, “They like the idea but they’d rather not automatically agree.”
“And Shindong?”
“Shindong’s only concern is my Lord Leeteuk. He’ll side with Henry. I know it sounds bad,” Zhou Mi added as Hangeng made a face, “But as the High Priest for the God of Death, he really cares little about people that are still alive. My Lord Kangin trusts my Lord Leeteuk to make the right decisions for them, therefore, Shindong sides with Henry.”
“How do you know all this?” Hangeng asked.
“Besides decades of experience? Kyuhyun,” Zhou Mi replied, glancing over at the God and smiling faintly before clearing his throat. Hangeng couldn’t help but notice how Zhou Mi dropped the Lord.
“How does Kyuhyun know?”
“He sees everyone’s dreams,” Zhou Mi replied, “Dreams show nothing but truth, even if it’s hidden under layers and layers of metaphor. He’s very good at interpretation.”
Hangeng glanced back and forth between the God and Zhou Mi before tentatively asking, “Why does Kyuhyun tell you?”
“I ask him,” Zhou Mi replied.
That doesn’t answer my question, Hangeng thought grumpily but he remained silent as Henry and Eunhyuk pulled away.
“We agree,” Henry said.
“And now we see how long it takes before we actually send someone out onto the streets,” Zhou Mi grumbled under his breath, going to rouse Heechul from his sleep.
If Hangeng learned anything in his first week, it was that the priests did even more talking and less work than the Gods, despite all outward appearances.
~~~~~
By the second week, Hangeng was already bored with Heechul’s daily schedule. The only part of the day that Hangeng anticipated, besides the end of it, was the beginning. Heechul would always scrutinize art that was sent to him as gifts just after breakfast. He would sometimes spend hours trying to interpret the meaning of the colors, wondering aloud if the painter had known just how many colors Heechul could see because of his Breath.
Sometimes he would pull Hangeng over and ask his opinion. Hangeng had never missed having Breath more than those moments. Today was no different.
“My Lord,” Zhou Mi tossed Hangeng a sad smile as he passed, “It’s time for petitions.”
“I like this one,” Heechul said, indicating the painting that he had been examining, “And my little assassin likes it as well. Have it sent to my rooms. The rest can go into the gallery.”
“Certainly, Lord Heechul. If you’ll please,” Zhou Mi waved a hand to end his request and Heechul nodded.
“Hankyung! Come!” Heechul beckoned, and Hangeng followed, inwardly bracing himself for another tedious day of nothing.
~~~~~
Heechul swept ceremoniously into his audience chamber, watching out of the corner of his eye as Hangeng sat down in his usual corner. Zhou Mi came to hover by the God’s shoulder.
The first few petitions were the same as always. Thank you for the peace, Great One, thank you for protecting us. Thank you for being so spectacular...blah, blah, blah Heechul said in his head as he smiled and nodded and watched his priests hand out food. It wasn’t like he didn’t mind the attention. He loved it. He just...didn’t want the same attention over and over and over again. It was bland.
He smiled generously at the next man on his knees who was shuffling forward awkwardly.
“What can I do for you?” How can I help you? What is it you seek? What question do you have? Heechul had a list of a hundred lines in his head that he ran through daily. He could recite them in his sleep. He imagined that when he did, Hangeng laughed himself silly.
“I have a humble request of my Lord.”
Heechul waited, readying his hand to wave priests forward with food or gold.
“I would like to have my Lord Heechul’s permission to make war.”
Heechul blinked. "I'm sorry could you repeat that?"
"I request my Lord's blessing to start a war."
Heechul looked at Zhou Mi as if to confirm that he had heard correctly. Zhou Mi only took a step back further, shrugging.
“What’s your name?” Heechul asked, standing up and towering over the man huddled into a ball on the floor.
“Kim Jihyun," The man murmured, impossibly bowing lower, his red clothing deepening in color as Heechul drew nearer.
“Why do you wish to disrupt the peace, Kim Jihyun? You have most likely heard all the grateful citizens who have come before me today in celebration of it.”
“I did,” Kim Jihyun said, “But...My Lord, my land is being ravaged, the women from my village are being raped, and I desire to protect the things I love.”
Heechul scoffed, his blood boiling at the thought of a man who had to ask permission to be a man. “I must be missing something. Why do you need my permission to fight off raiders? Or are you seriously asking me to bless your countries endeavors to invade another country because you lack the ability to ‘protect the things you love?’”
“I do not lack the ability, my Lord,” the man said, sounding angry.
“You will watch your tone,” Zhou Mi said quietly, “You speak to a God.”
The man cowered further against the stone, properly chastised. Heechul drew a breath to calm himself. “So if you do not lack the ability then why are you before me? Revenge? Boredom? I’m sorry, Kim Jihyun, but war is never worth any of those things.”
“I ask for my pride,” Kim Jihyun said quietly.
“So your pride is worth thousands of lives?” Heechul asked again, “I’m sorry but you do not have my blessing.”
“My Lord, I must do this. You must allow me to do this.”
“Then do it,” Heechul said, waving a hand. “Kim Jihyun, I did not Return to stop you from making bad decisions. I am here as a role model; I’ve Returned because of the choices I made while I was human, not so I can magically make you good people. If you want to gather your King’s soldiers and march on a foreign country than you may do so, though the blood will be on your hands.”
“My Lord your blessing means so much-“
“And you do not have it,” Heechul reiterated, “Nor will you get any support from me. And if you have no support from me you will not have any from the other Gods. Now leave my presence. I hope you make the right decision.”
Heechul set his jaw as he watched the man stand and leave. Maybe bland is a good thing, Heechul thought. “That is enough for today, I think, Zhou Mi.”
His High Priest nodded, and the remaining petitioners were ushered out.
“I’m calling Assembly early,” Heechul hissed, marching out the door, his red robes swishing around him viciously, “I know the High Priests already spoke of this, and I’m grateful for it, but it’s time for the Gods to discuss it. I’m sick and tired of all this...this whatever the hell it is.”
~~~~~
“I had at least another two hours worth of petitions, Heechul,” Leeteuk said, “This had better be important.”
“I just had someone come and ask me permission to start a war because his village was raided.”
There was a fearful and perhaps respectful moment of silence before Donghae whispered, “And you said no, right?”
“Of course I said no!” Heechul snapped, and Donghae took an involuntary step backward, “I don’t start wars. You all know this. The problem is the people don’t. They think I begin and end wars,” Heechul pointed to Leeteuk, “They think you can make any one fall in love; they think Kangin can keep people from dying; they think Yesung can give them hands of artists; they think Donghae can fix their familial problems. We know that we’re here solely because we were a perfect lover, or a perfect soldier, or a perfect whatever. We’re here to show them how to be perfect.”
“Our High Priests discussed this,” Kibum said quietly, though he looked mildly disturbed.
“And it’s now time that we do,” Heechul rumbled, “I don’t ever want someone to stand in front of me again and ask me to shoulder the burden for thousands upon thousands of lives. To take their blood on my hands. And I know none of you want to deal with the repercussions of a war; it will effect everyone. You don’t even want it,” Heechul added, pointing to Kangin.
The God of Death nodded.
“How do we go about preventing it?” Donghae asked.
“This is what I’m saying. What have we been doing, individually and as a group, since we Returned? We’re supposed to be role models but really, what are we modeling when we allow people to come to us, when we do nothing but smile at people when they line up for hours every day to see us for five seconds? What are they seeing?”
“What’s your point? Have you already thought up an resolution?”
Hangeng knew what Heechul was going to do before it happened. There was something about the God’s feral grin that tipped Hangeng off.
“What do you think?”
Hangeng stared back innocently.
“Why are you asking him?” Donghae asked, obviously unimpressed with Heechul’s solution. Hangeng pretended not to be offended.
“Because he’s not one of us. Because he was frustrated enough to want to kill me, so he knows what needs to be changed. And because he’s smart.”
All the Gods turned their gaze to Hangeng. “Um...” he said, except it came out as a squeak.
“Great,” Kibum quipped, “Problem solved.”
~~~~~
“Why did you say that?” Hangeng asked later that night, after he had died of shame.
“That you could solve the issue?” Heechul asked, back to admiring the new painting on his wall.
“No, that you wouldn’t give your blessing for a war.”
Heechul turned around and eyed him, “Were you listening to me at all today? I don’t start or end wars.”
“But...you’re the God of War, shouldn’t you like them?”
“I like peace just as much as war. Besides, aren’t all wars fought so that we can eventually attain peace? I fought epic battles when I was human. The stories say I swaggered onto the battle field and cut down everything in front of me. They say I had a wife and a kid and I loved them to pieces. They say that everything I did, I did for my family, that I created the peace we have today. Why would I start a war to destroy something I created?”
Heechul went back to the painting. “As silly as we all are, we Gods know that we’re here for a reason. But since the people have forgotten that, we’ve...I think maybe we’ve stopped caring.”
The God smiled faintly and turned back to Hangeng, tipping his chin up with a perfectly manicured finger. “And even though you didn’t ask, yes, I still think the answer is locked in your brain somewhere. I intend on getting it out before my thirty days are up.”
You’ll be dead in thirty days and then it won’t matter.
“Come to bed, I’m tired.”
Hangeng still hadn’t figured out why Heechul needed them to go to sleep at the same time, but he obediently did as requested.
He dreamt of Heechul charging across a battlefield, red hair streaming out behind him, each strand becoming a ray of sunlight that blinded his enemies.
Kyuhyun’s voice snickered into Hangeng’s ear.
~~~~~
At the end of the second week, Hangeng decided that he had garnered enough courage.
“My Lord,” he said, as they walked up to Heechul’s rooms after a failed Assembly meeting.
“Yes?”
“The...the war all those years ago...”
Heechul abruptly stopped in front of him. “What about it?”
“Were you...involved in it?”
Zhou Mi had a “do not ask such stupid questions” look on his face, but Hangeng ignored the priest.
“Yes,” Heechul said quietly.
“You gave your support?” Hangeng questioned.
“I never give my support to any war. I was overwhelmed with pleas and requests to stop it. So I left the palace and went onto the battlefield.”
Hangeng remembered that day. He remembered being blinded by the colors that bended around the God. He remembered his friends being slaughtered in front of him because the God had decided to “intervene.”
“You were there?” Heechul asked softly after a few minutes of silence.
“Yes.”
“I am ashamed of what happened,” Heechul admitted. “I walked out and saw...all that destruction. I thought...they are all fighting for the same thing, there is no evil here, just misunderstanding.”
“The fighting didn’t stop,” Hangeng accused, blinking back tears, “It kept going because each side thought you were there in support of them.”
“I know,” Heechul said, his voice oddly sad, “That is why I no longer place myself in such situations.”
“You want to again.”
“No,” Heechul corrected, “I don’t want to be blamed for other people’s choices and mistakes. If the people didn’t automatically assume that I was there with support than none of it would have ever happened.”
Hangeng took a few breaths to control himself.
“You came to kill me because you thought me responsible for the deaths of those you loved,” Heechul said quietly, “I know you know exactly what I mean when I say that people always think it’s the fault of the Gods. They’re wrong.”
Hangeng didn’t bring it up again.
For the rest of the week, he dreamt of Heechul walking up to him on the battlefield that day and apologizing. Hangeng woke up crying every morning.
~~~~~
Half way into the third week (with no solution in sight,) Hangeng was lying in bed thinking about what he would do with his life once Heechul was dead, when he felt a hand slide across his middle. He sighed and tried to pull away.
"Stop it."
Hangeng twitched involuntarily, "I didn't realize you were awake, my Lord."
"That doesn't matter," Heechul lectured sleepily, "Even if I ask for something in my sleep it is still a request."
"Of course, my Lord."
"Heechul." The God stressed.
"What?" Hangeng asked, slightly afraid.
"When we are alone I want you to call me Heechul."
"Whatever you wish," Hangeng all but whispered, belatedly adding, "Heechul."
"You would never agree to what I wish,” Heechul mumbled into Hangeng's neck and the assassin was sure that the God hadn’t actually meant to say that. Hate, Hangeng reminded himself, You hate this man...God. Thing.
When he was sure Heechul was asleep, Hangeng whispered back, “I agreed to give you anything you desired."
He thought he dreamt of Kyuhyun whispering into his ear, "I told you so." It was nothing but a hazy memory in the morning so he dismissed it, squaring his shoulders and bracing his mind for another long stretch of dull, Breathless hours spent catering to Heechul's every whim.
"Eat," Heechul ordered, shoving a plate of food in front of Hangeng's nose. "You're too skinny."
You're one to talk, Hangeng thought bitterly, but automatically picked up his utensils and ate.
"How are you doing?" Heechul asked like he did every morning.
"Terrible, my Lord," Hangeng replied automatically, even though he was a little less terrible than the day before.
“It’ll get better,” Heechul said, reaching out to pat Hangeng’s head. The God’s eyes told him that he knew it was getting better but that he found Hangeng’s little white lie amusing so he let it pass.
The art that day was dull. Heechul didn’t spend more than five minutes in front of one piece. Hangeng fell asleep while standing against the wall, only waking when Zhou Mi whacked him over the head. “I suppose they can go into the gallery,” Heechul drawled, “But I really don’t like any of them. We’ll start petitions early today, Zhou Mi.”
The High Priest raised his eyebrows.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes, my Lord. My apologies.”
“Are you not feeling well?”
“I’m fine. I just...was not expecting you to start petitions early.”
Heechul hummed. “I suppose it is uncharacteristic of me. Come, Hankyung. You’re going to sit with me today.”
“What?” Hangeng asked, staring stupidly after the God.
Zhou Mi groaned.
~~~~
Heechul had Hangeng sit on the ground by his throne. “Sit there and look regal,” he directed.
Easy for you to say, Hangeng grumbled to himself, you have Breath.
There hadn’t been any odd petitions since the last one. In fact, there seemed to be more people coming to thank Heechul for not supporting wars than there had been before the Kim Jihyun incident. Heechul himself smiled more and rolled his eyes less so Hangeng had to figure that maybe he was serious about revamping the Gods’ approach to mortals.
Hangeng pasted a smile on his face and ignored the odd looks he was getting shot from underneath the fringes of bangs or cowls of cloaks.
“What can I do for you?” Heechul asked, and Hangeng realized that Heechul was back to the top of his questions lists. It hadn’t taken the assassin long to realize that Heechul had one; and it had taken him an even shorter amount of time to memorize it himself.
“I’m sorry,” the man whispered, “But I’m going to have to kill you.”
Too bad for you. He’s mine, Hangeng thought with a wry smile. Seriously, what a way to ask for something.
Not until Heechul hit the floor, blood pouring out of his side, did Hangeng realize that actually, the man was serious, and had someone managed to make Heechul bleed from several feet away.
Heechul’s priests were already pushing everyone out the door. Hangeng’s eyes narrowed as it further sunk into his brain that Heechul was on the floor. Bleeding. Hangeng threw himself at Heechul without thinking, covering the God, feeling slightly relieved as the man’s next missile sank into Heechul’s chair and not Heechul himself. “You’re so useless,” Hangeng muttered and he started to breathe again when he heard Heechul chuckle.
Zhou Mi managed to pin the assassin to the floor, hissing all sorts of horrible punishments into the man’s ear.
Heechul’s moaned in pain as Hangeng maneuvered himself off the God. “Are you alright my Lord?” Hangeng asked, pressing his hands to Heechul’s side.
“S’not too bad,” Heechul mumbled into the floor, “I heal quick.”
“Because losing several pints of blood in a few seconds isn’t bad at all. Who would be the most helpful right now?”
“You.”
Hangeng looked up and beckoned to a queasy looking priest standing off to the side. “You. Go get Siwon,” Hangeng ordered, because Heechul was obviously delirious and had obviously meant to say the other God’s name.
The priest glanced at the God’s blood, swallowed hard, and rushed off.
“You order people around nicely. I approve.”
Hangeng snorted.
“You’re doing good,” Heechul continued.
“I’m not doing anything,” Hangeng returned, positive that Heechul had completely lost it.
“You’re saving my pathetic eternal existence. Seriously. What kind of immortal am I if I can be killed?”
“A pretty shitty one.”
The shared a small smile before Siwon burst into the room looking panicked.
~~~~
Courtesy of a few people offering Heechul their breath, the God healed quickly. He was back on his feet in no time at all, just as energetic and twice as bitchy.
“Out. Of. My. Way,” Heechul hissed at his priests, and they scurried like mice. “Honestly. I start drama with people, they do not start it with me. Not that I’m complaining about my recent popularity, but this is far too much.”
“I will assign some guards to your-“
“Like that is going to stop people. Something is going on outside and I need to know what the hell it is. Find me someone who can get me information that the other Gods will hear. Right now all they care about is executing my attacker, which is fine, but there’s a bigger picture and I want to know it.”
“Of course, my Lord.”
“And,” Heechul added, spinning on his foot, “Before they kill him, make sure someone gets some sort of useful information out of him. I will not have this peace disrupted.”
“Immediately, my Lord,” Zhou Mi bowed and scurried off.
The God turned his attention to Hangeng.
“Go up to my rooms and wait for me,” Heechul ordered, “I have a few things to take care of; I’ll be there shortly.”
Hangeng bowed obediently and trudged back up to the God’s chambers, his mind already racing with the millions of things Heechul could possibly have to accomplish without him.
Nothing came to mind.
Hangeng spent a fair amount of time pacing in front of the God’s fire place. And then in front of the bed. And then in front of the window.
Why exactly am I caring about him? He wondered.
Hangeng pondered for a moment, and then realized that he didn’t and promptly snuggled himself down into Heechul’s blankets and fall asleep.
He didn’t even have time to dream before someone was shaking him. “Go ‘way,” he mumbled.
“Get up, my little assassin, I have something for you.”
“Go ‘way,’ Hangeng repeated, brain still full of sleepy fuzz.
“Hankyung.”
Hangeng’s stomach dropped at the tone of voice and he sat up too fast, disorienting himself.
“My Lord. I’m sorry. I didn’t...I’m sor-” Hangeng paused mid sentence, finally aware that Heechul wasn’t yelling at him, “Aren’t you angry?”
“Yes,” Heechul replied, “Now get out of bed.”
Hangeng tumbled out of the sheets, wondering when he had started caring about Heechul emotions. He wasn’t sure what to think when he finally looked Heechul up and down and saw him holding rope. His rope. With his Breath in it.
“What-”
“It took me awhile to find it. But you know, it had Breath in it so it wasn’t as difficult as I thought. Your camouflage sucked, by the way.”
Hangeng wet his lips, memories of life with Breath flooding back to him.
“Take it.”
“Th-thirty days.”
“You saved my life. You miss having Breath, I can see it every time you look at paintings. Or me,” the God smirked, pushing the rope into Hangeng’s hands.
The assassin stared at it. “What’s the catch?”
“There is no catch. You saved me, I’m rewarding you, our deal continues as normal.”
But I’m going to kill you.
Heechul smiled and Hangeng sunk to his knees, staring at the rope wrapped around his palms, at his Breath touching his skin.
“Do it,” Heechul whispered into Hangeng’s ear, and Hangeng needed no further urging.
He couldn’t help the tears. Couldn’t help the sobbing gasp that escaped out of him as everything burst back into life. It was only three strands, only three Breaths, but they were better than nothing. So much better than nothing. The rope slipped from his fingers as the color swirled in front of his eyes. He didn’t realize that Heechul was holding him until they cleared.
He decided that he didn’t care.
“Thank you,” he whispered, “thank you, thank you, thank you.” Hangeng wasn’t sure if it was the Breath or if it was the way he kept saying thank you over and over or if it was the way Heechul was smiling at him, but before he could rationally think about it, Hangeng was kissing the God senseless. Just because he could.
Part 3
~~~~
I felt like some of it was sort of rushed but I really don't want this to be a long story so I desperately hope this isn't confusing.
And that it's still interesting.
Comments get you my eternal love
no subject
this story is so cute!!! omg i love kyuhyun..... he would totally sit in the corner of mortal minds and snicker away at their foolishness bahahahaha. and heechul is a bitch but a hot bitch and a bitch who always somehow ends up being right (much to others and sometimes our own consternation) XDXDD did i tell you im writing a new fic? and HEECHUL is in my fic and he's gonna have the ponytail because the ponytail was hot and your law!verse totally reminded me of that.
besides the cuteness of this fic..... i want my law!verse!!! -throws useless tantrum- omgggg so excited for the continuation of that verse....... squee, since i made such a grand discovery today, i'm scurrying away to read more of your fics that i never noticed XDXDXD
no subject
hehe!!! yay for heechul's ponytail. i really miss his long hair :(
and yes. i know. law!verse is coming, i swear. i just had tot get this out of my head.
<3