Archive of Our Own

the king is away, and he’s not privy as to why, but it doesn’t really matter because the palace is always calmer when he’s not around. it’s not like he sees him much, anyway, and there’s no disturbance to the normal rhythm of his day in the king’s absence — except maybe he breathes a little easier with the knowledge that there’s no chance he’ll have to wake up one day and explain to his majesty why his hair is long and the color of the gold plating the palace instead of its usual brilliant red.

absentmindedly, baekhyun runs his fingers over the rose on his neck, thumb tracing the outline of the petals. his mother looks up from her cup of tea, frowning.

“sweetheart,” she says quietly, “does it ever… hurt you?”

he furrows his brows, hand once again gripping his own cup. it’s filled with jasmine tea, his favorite, shipped all the way from the city of haledo, which is several miles away to the east. he’s never made the journey, never left the palace. “not directly, no.”

she averts her eyes at that, sipping silently. the tattoo had shown up on his neck two years ago, along with him being trapped in his ten year old body, shocking his mother when she’d come to wake him up to get him ready for a fitting. he’d been lucky the king had been gone that day, too — how could he have possibly justified the fact that he looked the way he had ten years ago without bringing magic into the equation? his mother hadn’t said anything, simply held his hand as he laid in bed until he’d shifted back. he’s forever thankful for her.

he tilts his cup, watching the liquid tip towards one side. “so about princess aiyana.” he had met the princess of haledo yesterday, making sure to compliment her on their tea. she’d laughed at that. “the answer is no.” he rights the teacup, setting it down on the saucer. “she’s nice. beautiful. but no.” he laughs a little. “i asked her she’d ever owned any pets, and she said no, but she had made friends with a naiad in her childhood. a naiad, can you imagine? even before the decree, you wouldn’t have found any of those here. haledo seems like an entirely different world.”

“baekhyun, you have to get married soon,” his mother says softly. her eyes are dark and sad, mirrors of his own. everyone always says he got them from her. everyone always says he got pretty much everything from his mother.

“i wouldn’t do that to the princess,” he answers, mouth twisting into a bitter smile. “haledo is magic rich. i can feel it even in this.” he holds up his tea. “taking her away from an environment like that to here” — he waves his hand, encompassing the room in his gesture — “is not something i would do to anyone.” he looks out the windows. they’re floor to ceiling, and the curtains are pulled back, the hot, heavy sunlight streaming into the room. “and do you think his royal majesty wouldn’t try to expand the decree to include haledo, too, after the marriage? another city, stripped of its magic.”

this is the only room in the entire palace he would dare to speak so openly. no guards are allowed inside, by request of his mother, who still holds enough sway over the king to sequester a small room for them to have tea and essentially commit treason. he trusts his mother implicitly. she’s one of very few.

“i just don’t know how long you can evade him,” his mother says softly. the back of his neck is damp with sweat, underneath his stiff collar.

baekhyun rubs his thumb under his bottom lip. “i’ll do it as long as it’s necessary.” until i figure out a way to change things .

their head cook is having a baby. avah is already showing all the signs, her belly swollen, and baekhyun frequents the kitchens so he can put his hands on her stomach to feel the baby kicking. it delights him every time without fail, and avah always ends up smacking his head with any of her various cooking utensils so he’ll leave her alone and let her get back to work.

but she’ll be bedridden soon, and so baekhyun brings in a replacement; he’s an old friend from his younger days, when he was still allowed to fraternize with those less than nobility. kyungsoo is much as he’s remembered him, still small and a little scary, but his shoulders are broader and his voice deeper. it’s been so long.

“sing for us, sometimes,” baekhyun says, slipping an arm around kyungsoo’s shoulders as he leads him to the kitchens. “while you’re down here. i’ll make sure to stop by often.”

“is that an order?” kyungsoo asks, and baekhyun can tell he’s only half joking.

“hey,” he says softly, raising his eyesbrows at kyungsoo. he looks back at him, steady, gaze unreadable. in many ways, he’s baekhyun’s opposite, calm where baekhyun is bursting with energy, quiet where baekhyun talks to fill up the empty spaces he can’t stand. “i haven’t changed that much. and i’m not the king.”

“not yet,” kyungsoo says, but he looks just a little more relaxed. “i will, your highness.”

baekhyun winces. “don’t… don’t call me that. it’s bad enough hearing it from chanyeol and jongdae all the time. i’m doing my best to train them out of it, but for some reason they don’t listen to me.”

kyungsoo smirks a little, raising an eyebrow. “both chanyeol and jongdae are here? are you collecting your old friends, byun?”

“well, you know me,” baekhyun answers with a crooked smile. “i love my friends.”

chanyeol, perhaps having sensed that he was being spoken about, appears in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the frame comfortably. his mouth drops open a little when he spots kyungsoo, and then he smiles, big and bright, eyes softening. “your collection’s complete, your highness.”

baekhyun rolls his eyes. “you know, for two opposites, you guys think a whole lot alike.” chanyeol laughs, loud, and baekhyun grumbles, “pains in the ass.”

kyungsoo jabs his elbow into his stomach, all pretense of respecting royalty gone. “coming from the biggest pain in the ass.” he sizes up chanyeol, head tilted back and eyes squinted. “did you get taller ?” there’s a mixture of disbelief and annoyance in his voice, and baekhyun has to stifle a laugh behind his hand. chanyeol hasn’t seen kyungsoo since baekhyun last had, because chanyeol’s supposed to stick with baekhyun at all times and baekhyun’s never been let beyond the walls surrounding the palace. all four of them had been close in their childhood, but chanyeol and kyungsoo had been the best of best friends, despite all the differences they had.

“maybe you just got smaller,” chanyeol says, shrugging, and kyungsoo scoffs, smacking his arm. “ow, seriously! you’re still violent, i see.” he rubs dramatically at the offended spot, pouting enough to look like a kicked puppy. (it’s a talent.) “your highness, maybe you should dump soo back at the library and hire someone else to take over.”

“if you call me your highness again,” baekhyun threatens, “i’ll join kyungsoo in chopping all your limbs off.”

chanyeol rubs the back of his neck, smiling slightly. his hair is getting too long, brown bangs falling into his eyes. he pushes them back, and baekhyun makes a mental note to get the both of them haircuts. “so, are you two gonna come in or not?” he puts his arm around kyungsoo’s waist when he passes him, and baekhyun leaves the two of them be so he can wander over to avah and steal a date from where she’s working. she slaps his hand away, and he smiles his most charming smile at her, leaving her clicking her tongue at him fondly and letting him take a few more.

“no cucumbers in the soup,” he reminds her, and she grunts, knife cutting away. “by the way, kyungsoo’s here. he’s just going to be hanging around for a while, helping you out, until you have to leave.” he leans closer, resting a chin on avah’s shoulder. she smells like bread and spices. “you’ll like him. everyone likes him.”

baekhyun sneaks a glance back at kyungsoo, who’s leaning against a table and chatting away with chanyeol, letting chanyeol do most of the talking. chanyeol is gesturing a lot, long limbs going everywhere, and kyungsoo has his head tilted back, an amused look gracing his face. he has to smile at the sight. he really should have brought kyungsoo here sooner; jongdae will be happy to see him too.

“as long as he isn’t such a horrid thief as you are,” avah replies, pinching his cheek. he grins. “spoiled prince, thinks he can get away with anything.”

“only because you let me,” he says, pressing a kiss to avah’s cheek and making his way towards kyungsoo and chanyeol, hands shoved in his pockets. he winks at one of the cooks that’s kneading dough — lukas, he thinks his name is — and the boy’s mouth falls open slightly, hands stilling. the kitchen is large, one of the largest rooms in the palace, and filled with people all the time. it’s probably one of the reasons why baekhyun gravitates here; that, and the food, always hot and always delicious.

“hey, soo,” baekhyun says, draping an arm around his shoulders. he can’t do this with chanyeol, who is so insufferably tall. “you can come back here after we take you to see jongdae. he’s in the gardens.”

“where’s his majesty?” kyungsoo asks quietly as baekhyun leads the both of them out the side door to the gardens, waving to avah on their way out. lukas is watching them, eyes wide. baekhyun almost trips at the question, grabbing onto chanyeol’s arm. kyungsoo frowns.

“away,” baekhyun answers, and chanyeol shakes him off. what a terrible bodyguard. he doesn’t say anything more, humming under his breath as they go deeper into the gardens. kyungsoo doesn’t press the matter, either, and for once baekhyun is thankful for his friend’s silent demeanor.

it’s hot, hotter than the kitchen with its big windows letting the sun in, and baekhyun can already see beads of sweat on kyungsoo’s nape. “hey, soo, did you ever go outside while you were at the library?”

kyungsoo turns back to grin at him, eyes crinkling. his smiles are always so contagious. “not often.”

he’s not entirely sure how jongdae can spend so much time down here, but as head gardener he cares a whole lot about this place. everything is always neat, always beautiful, and baekhyun likes to visit him sometimes and help him take care of it, the both of them chattering away about anything and everything. chanyeol usually pitches in, too, and he knows jongdae is always thankful when it’s not just him and his thoughts and his flowers.

jongdae is carting a wheelbarrow filled with dirt, sweat lining his face. his lips curl up into his trademark kittenish smirk as he catches sight of kyungsoo. “well, if it isn’t the only one of us who managed to escape baekhyun, if only for a little bit.” he peels his dirty gloves off, offering a hand to kyungsoo, who shakes it gratefully. “i can’t believe he convinced you to come back.”

“eh, i buttered him up well,” baekhyun says, clapping kyungsoo on the back and getting a serious side-eye in return. “oh, don’t look at me like that. you really were wasting your true talents away in that stuffy old library.”

kyungsoo looks amused at this. “it’s pretty obvious you’ve never been to ‘that stuffy old library’, baekhyun.” he turns back to jongdae as baekhyun sighs, rubbing his forehead. it’s true; he’s never been, even though he’s wanted to go, and more than once. he’s never been much of a reader, but he’s heard stories of the library’s grandeur, even if it had been diminished somewhat when all books on magic were burned — and publicly, too, the message clear to all citizens of el dorado. “have you ever considered the fact that i missed you guys? it didn’t take much persuasion, honestly.” he looks a little embarrassed to have admitted that, especially as chanyeol coos at him delightedly.

“i know for a fact you missed chanyeol,” jongdae says, smirking, and kyungsoo colors an even deeper shade of pink. chanyeol’s ears are red; it’s endearing. “that’s sweet, soo. i’m glad you’re back. maybe now there’ll be less complaints of baekhyun stealing food from the kitchens.”

“i’ll make sure of that,” kyungsoo promises, and baekhyun whines at jongdae and chanyeol’s laughter. out of all of them, chanyeol laughs the loudest, everything about him big and bright and filling up space. it’s no wonder he and baekhyun get along so well.

“ i sure didn’t miss the three of you ganging up against me,” baekhyun says, shaking a finger in each of their faces (not chanyeol’s; he’s too tall). “i’m the crown prince! you should show me some respect before i have you all thrown in the dungeons.”

jongdae guffaws. chanyeol grins at baekhyun’s finger, reminding him, “you wrote a letter — an actual letter , instead of just sending a messenger with a royal order or whatever — to kyungsoo to get him to come back to the palace because you missed him and didn’t want avah to be replaced by just anybody. you’re not throwing any of us in the dungeons.” baekhyun acknowledges the point, shrugging, and kyungsoo’s eyes crinkle up into another smile. “but whatever you say, your royal highness.”

pulling his glove back on, jongdae shoos them away from his wheelbarrow. “it was nice seeing you again, soo, but the lot of you are distracting me from my very important work. go bother someone else; we’ll catch up over dinner sometime.”

“tonight,” baekhyun says firmly, backing away. “the king’s not back until tomorrow evening. we’ll have the room to ourselves since mother’s been planning on spending some time with avah, anyway.” he grins at jongdae, waving exaggeratedly. “have fun pruning. i’ll see you tonight.”

jongdae, the immature being that he is, sticks his tongue out at baekhyun, and baekhyun being baekhyun, he sticks his tongue out right back. kyungsoo snorts softly, him and chanyeol manhandling baekhyun away from jongdae. kyungsoo lets go of him to go say something to jongdae, a somber look crossing both their faces. baekhyun watches as jongdae hesitates and kyungsoo lets out a breath and hugs jongdae, clapping him on the back softly before returning to where chanyeol and baekhyun are standing. if baekhyun were to guess, kyungsoo was probably offering condolences for the death of jongdae’s father. he’d died four years ago, just a few months after kyungsoo had left for the library.

“you were right,” kyungsoo says, bumping his hip into baekhyun’s in an uncharacteristic display of affection. “you really haven’t changed that much.”

baekhyun used to always be afraid to fall asleep, as he’d inevitably dream and wake up in his bed as someone else, but it’s happened less and less and now he feels comfortable enough to even take small naps. he curls up after his long, hot bath, already drowsy, having told chanyeol to wake him up in a couple hours so he can round up kyungsoo and jongdae for dinner. apart from his mother, chanyeol is the only person who knows about his transformations, so he doesn’t even mind if he accidentally shifts mid-nap and chanyeol walks in to find him two feet taller and sporting a beard.

he wonders if he should tell jongdae and kyungsoo, and dismisses the thought as soon as it comes. he loves them, but the less people that know the better, and the less chance it gets back to the king, who’ll execute him for possession of magic, baekhyun being his son notwithstanding. he hates keeping things from his friends, but he’s kept this a secret from them for so long, he doesn’t know how he can possibly broach the subject. by the way, i know the king has banished all magic in this city and anyone caught practicing is immediately sentenced to death, but one day i woke up with this rose tattoo and it makes me turn into different people in my sleep and no, i don’t know how to control it. would they understand? would anyone?

baekhyun’s thought long and hard about overturning the king’s ban on magic, but there’s really nothing he can do alone — and having never left the palace, he doesn’t even know if there are pockets of rebellion scattered around el dorado. the city of gold, they’re called, but it’s true that they only glitter on the surface.

he wakes up as himself, thankfully, with no memory of what he’d dreamed, if he’d done so at all. rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he studies his ceiling, which is inlaid with a gold sun, its rays extending to the very corners of his room. when he pulls the curtain aside, the real sun catches the gold and it glitters almost painfully.

he doesn’t bother dressing up too much; their group have seen each other in their nappies, not that any of them remember those days (as far he knows), so he just pulls on his softest red tunic, hopping out the door as he slides his left boot on. chanyeol falls into step behind him as he heads down to the kitchens, nodding curtly at the guards stationed in the hallways. they’re all the king's men, with their arrogant eyes and their heavy helmets, ears craned for any whisper of rebellion.

the three of them bombard kyungsoo with questions about working in the library, where he catalogs books and makes sure there are none about magic that somehow made it through inspections. that piques baekhyun’s curiosity, and he asks kyungsoo if he comes into contact with a lot of magic books. after a long stare, kyungsoo shakes his head, saying most of them were destroyed in the burnings.

“it’s very rare we come across those,” he says, swirling his wine. “we did get a few hidden in a shipment from zurith, in between books about taming horses and ancient zurithian scriptures. not sure why we had so many scripture books, actually.” he smiles a little. “zurith is steeped in magic, though, so we weren’t very surprised. they’ve openly voiced their displeasure with el dorado’s magic ban.” his tone is very academic, far from agreeing with zurith’s stance on the matter, but chanyeol still puts a hand over his, shaking his head slightly. “ah. there is a restaurant, near the library. they make very good spicy rice cakes. they’re expensive, but… a nice treat after a hard month of working.”

“how spicy?” chanyeol asks, making a face.

“too much for you,” kyungsoo answers softly. “unless, of course, your tolerance has increased in the past five years.”

“not in the slightest,” jongdae snickers.

baekhyun empties the contents of his wineglass into his mouth. it’s heavy and made of gold, like so much in the royal palace and el dorado itself is. “i met with princess aiyana of haledo yesterday,” he tells them. “did you know haledo makes amazing jasmine tea?” his voice echoes slightly. they’re the only ones in the grand dining room, apart from the few servants standing silently at the edges of the table, and it’s too quiet for baekhyun, who fidgets with his utensils, nails scraping softly across the dark wood of the table.

“he’s addicted to the stuff,” chanyeol whispers loudly when kyungsoo nods.

“anyway,” baekhyun says, shooting a non-threatening glare at chanyeol. he’ll have to ask kyungsoo for some pointers later. “she was, um. very kind.” he lets out a breath, rubbing at his tattoo. “my parents want me married. i’m only twenty-two, but they keep pushing and i… maybe it’s stupid, but i don’t want to be married for any political gain, especially not when that means…” the ban of magic will spread, most likely , he finishes in his mind. “i want to marry out of love.” he doesn’t dare look up. “i-i know i’m the crown prince and it’s practically impossible, but i still want it. tell me i’m being ridiculous.”

“you’re not,” chanyeol says, ears reddening slightly when they all turn to look at him. “what? i think love is an admirable pursuit.”

jongdae laughs into his almost full plate of food, and frowning, baekhyun nudges him to eat. “you’re a big old sensitive baby, park chanyeol.” kyungsoo reaches out to squeeze chanyeol’s hand, letting go quick, and baekhyun rolls his eyes, not surprised they’re already dancing around each other after having been together again for mere hours.

one of the servants, a young girl by the name lillie who baekhyun spots in the kitchens often, refills baekhyun’s wineglass. he stares at it, not feeling better at all. he will have to marry soon, whether he likes it or not, and it will end up being a completely political union. he can only hope he actually likes the person he’ll end up spending his life with. maybe he should reconsider princess aiyana; she’d been very sweet, and they had parted on good terms, with the promise to be friends and stay in touch. and there was always the jasmine tea.

“chanyeol’s right,” jongdae says, mouth full. “but so are you. who knows, baekhyun, maybe you’ll get lucky and finally click with someone who’ll meet both your expectations and the king’s.”

“that was surprisingly insightful of you,” kyungsoo says a little drily, and they all laugh, the tension dissipating. baekhyun figures he’ll cross that bridge when it comes. he’s still young, he still has time. and for now , he thinks, i still have my friends .

“how was it?” kyungsoo asks when the fire in the large fireplace has dwindled down, mere glowing embers remaining in the pit. baekhyun has had too much to drink. “living here, for the past five years?”

“the same,” chanyeol answers, “and completely different. with you gone, we all kind of… drifted. it wasn’t like the old days, without the four of us together, and for a while we weren’t even sure that we were allowed to spend time together, after…” he trails off, kyungsoo nodding stiffly. “and then when jongdae’s dad died and he got, well, promoted, things kind of got better with us. but we’re glad you’re back.” kyungsoo’s cheeks are a little heated by the end of that speech, especially when jongdae and baekhyun chorus their agreement.

jongdae’s lips curl into a soft smile. “hey, soo, did you get a girlfriend or anything while you were out there?”

kyungsoo snickers at that, even as chanyeol avoids his eyes. “if you count the books, then yeah, i’ve got a harem,” he says, and baekhyun snorts in a terribly undignified manner into his glass.

“speaking of harems,” chanyeol says, “baekhyun’s got his own. avah, jongdae’s mom, my mom…”

“he’s a hit with the older woman,” jongdae adds. “i don’t see it.”

“it’s my natural charm and princely demeanor,” baekhyun says, scowling, and they all burst into laughter. “you — stop laughing! i’m going to fire all of you, and then throw you in the dungeons. promise.” he can feel his eyelids drooping.

“i think it’s time you take that natural charm and princely demeanor to bed,” kyungsoo says.

two days later, the king summons him, and by summons him baekhyun means he strides into baekhyun’s antechamber while he’s very busy peeling a blood orange. baekhyun pauses, a slice halfway between his lips, before scrambling upright and sinking into a deep bow. the king has someone with him, and baekhyun glances at him out of the corner of his eye, interest piqued.

“rise,” the king commands, and baekhyun straightens, eyes downcast. “this is lee taemin. he is going to join chanyeol as your security detail.” baekhyun curses silently. no doubt it’s to further restrict his freedom. “i will leave you two to get further acquainted.” with that, he’s gone, the door slamming behind him. there’s a moment of silence where baekhyun stares furiously at where the king left, until chanyeol pokes his head in, eyebrows drawn together in concern. baekhyun flaps his hand at him, frustrated, and he withdraws.

turning his attention to taemin properly for the first time, baekhyun is completely stopped in his tracks. it’s clear taemin isn’t from here — he reeks of magic, and baekhyun is honestly a little surprised the king hasn’t picked up on it, although with even his limited knowledge he’s aware that only magic affected individuals can pick up others of his kind. in fact, the king used to have a team of magic hunters that practiced themselves, and had them all executed when all traces of magic in el dorado were snuffed out.

taemin is beautiful, in the simplest of terms. his face is surprisingly delicate, his lips thick and looking incredibly soft. baekhyun’s toes curl as he meets taemin’s eyes, warm and… mischievous? despite the circumstances, he thinks he’ll like him.

taemin bows slightly, a small smile on his face as though he’s guessed what baekhyun’s thinking. it’s barely there, and it doesn’t reach his eyes, just a shadow of actual amusement. “hello, your highness.”

“you know where you are, right?” baekhyun asks abruptly, sitting back down and picking up the orange again. “el dorado, city of gold, no magic allowed? you stink of it.”

taemin just looks amused. “i’m aware.” he tilts his head slightly, studying baekhyun with his dark, dark eyes. “you… stink of it, too.” baekhyun pops another orange slice into his mouth. “i’ll be careful,” taemin finally says, settling back on his heels. “don’t worry, you won’t lose me so easily.”

“why are you here?” baekhyun wonders. “i mean, apart from the fact that the king wants to spy on me.”

taemin shrugs, running a hand through his hair; it’s long and thick, framing his face in soft platinum waves. baekhyun’s fingers twitch. “the king — we were in elora, and very recently the eloran prime minister was murdered in his home by a group of assassins. witches, to be exact.”

“great,” baekhyun says bitterly. “that would’ve just increased his paranoia.” at least, he’s pretty sure it’s paranoia that made the king decide not to allow magic in el dorado any longer.

“i’m an assassin, too,” taemin says casually, and baekhyun gapes up at him, toes curling again. “but i worked for the eloran government. so the king… requested a transfer.” elora is one of the more progressive cities, with a solid magical justice system in place, and baekhyun honestly doubts eloran witches would have done something to upset the rare balance in the city. the witches had to have come from elsewhere, maybe haledo, which is only a few miles away.

“and you just agreed to come with him? he didn’t realize you’re…” he waves a hand at taemin, licking orange juice off his fingers. taemin’s tongue darts out to wet his mouth.

“that’s none of your concern. and no, he didn’t. eloran assassins are for the most part without magic. he just picked badly.” there’s a smirk on his face as he says this, and suddenly baekhyun is too hot. he stands quickly, tossing the peels away and avoiding taemin’s eyes.

“why are you here?” he asks again, back to taemin. he pulls at his collar; royal clothes are always so stiff, as stiff as the customs and rules he’s expected to follow at all times.

“i have my reasons,” taemin says, and when baekhyun turns to look at him, his gaze is unreadable. “you don’t have to have the both of us around, by the way. so you can let your chanyeol off the hook while i’m on duty so he can chase after that kitchen boy he has his eyes on.”

baekhyun runs his fingers over his tattoo, somewhat speechless for once. taemin’s gaze settles on it, assessing, and there’s a spark of recognition in his eyes that has baekhyun interested. “do you know what this is?”

“yes,” is all taemin says. he’s taller than him, much to his irritation, and he has nice legs, long and thin. he’s dressed in some kind of leather outfit, black and tight against the curves and planes of his body. baekhyun wonders why his throat is so dry. taemin must be hot in it; it covers him neck to toe. 

baekhyun stares at him, but he doesn’t offer anything else, so he just replies, “kitchen boy has a name. kyungsoo. use it.”

he takes a walk in the gardens in the dead of night, when the fervor of the sun has cooled considerably and it’s necessary for him to actually drape a shawl around himself. el dorado is situated in the midst of a sprawling desert, which extends further to the west than the east, so the city closest to them is haledo, which is well out of the way of the sand and bitter heat. he wonders what it would be like to not have to worry about the fury of sandstorms every day.

taemin is trailing behind him, a mere shadow in the darkness. it leaves baekhyun on edge, has him still wondering why someone like him would choose to come to el dorado and protect the prince. his hand finds his tattoo again, and he drags thin fingers down his neck before dropping it back to his side.

“what’s elora like?” baekhyun asks, unable to stand the oppressive silence. he trails his fingers over a perfectly pruned hedge, courtesy of jongdae. when he glances back at taemin, his eyes are glittering in the moonlight, the soft curve of his lip thrown into utter contrast with his sharp jaw. “i’ve never been.”

“it’s beautiful,” taemin says, almost reverently. “very different from here. green everywhere.” he smiles a little, not showing any teeth. “filled to the brim with magic. i once had an encounter with a djinn named minho in a magic shop.” his eyes twinkle. “it was interesting, to say the least.”

“djinn? did he grant you three wishes?”

taemin laughs. there’s nothing pleasant about the sound. “he was an ifrit, actually. they’re drawn to the life force of those murdered, those who wish to seek revenge from the murderer. he helped me in my… work.” at baekhyun’s sharp gaze, he elaborates, “don’t worry your pretty little head, prince. ifrits aren’t always inherently evil, and minho wasn’t. just a little competitive, is all.”

baekhyun sits on one of the large golden benches scattered around the gardens, drawing his knees up to his chest. taemin merely leans against the handrest, eyes trained up at the moon, his face looking even younger in the soft light.

“how old are you?” he’s the prince, after all. he’s allowed to be a little nosy.

“not much younger than you,” taemin answers, amused again. he has yet to smile a real smile.

baekhyun settles back in his seat, eyes closed. “have you heard of the ercinee?”

taemin hums. “the golden birds. their feathers light up.” baekhyun really likes the way he talks, the way his mouth forms words, softer than what he’s used to.

“there is a legend here, in el dorado. an old one, forgotten by most, especially after all talk of magic was banned.” there’s something almost delicious about so openly flaunting his disregard of the king’s decree, of talking about magic in front of someone so lethal, so unknown to him. “there are caves surrounding el dorado, and they were once populated by ercinee.” he shifts a little, remembering the tales kyungsoo had told them when they were younger. kyungsoo had always loved stories, and had been good at recounting the old myths of el dorado and their neighboring cities, before the decree was passed and it was all shut down. “they usually live in forests, but legend says they were drawn to the gold of this city. there was a traveler once, from lis rathe, who lost his way in the desert when he was making a journey to our city. he wandered for days, slowly using up all of his food and water, and at last when it seemed that all hope was lost an ercinee left the caves and flew to him, guiding him here.” he opens his eyes to meet taemin’s gaze, steady, dark. “this place used to be a beacon for magic, shining as brightly as its name. not so much anymore.” he’s reminded a little of that tale he’d read as a child of the beast in his castle and his staff turned to household objects; with the magic and anyone associated with it gone from el dorado, everything is just a shadow of its former grandeur.

the four of them, back when they were truly young and foolish, had snuck out of the palace grounds to try and find the ercinee caves. they had been discovered, of course, and the king had gotten so terribly angry that baekhyun had immediately assumed all blame, insisting that he had used his powers as prince to coerce his friends into going with him. he hasn’t been allowed to leave since, and kyungsoo had been sent away regardless for filling their heads with empty stories, as the king had said. he’s probably risking a lot in bringing kyungsoo back, but baekhyun can’t really bring himself to care. the king is rarely home and the chances are high that he’s forgotten kyungsoo anyways.

taemin finally sits beside him, crossing his ankles. his legs are long, so long, his hands small and adorned with several silver rings. baekhyun can’t stop looking at him. “do you ever wonder how?”

“how everything changed? how one person could come to hold so much power that he could wipe out all the magic in a place like this?” his voice drops. “yes, all the time. the more i think about it, the less sense it makes. it’s frustrating, not knowing.”

“it is,” taemin agrees quietly, and baekhyun starts to get a sense as to why he’s here.

“what if you kill me in my sleep?” baekhyun asks.

“why would i do that?” taemin is frowning, slightly. “i don’t kill people for no reason. i don’t do it because i enjoy it.” his eyes are glittering. “besides, your father pays well. i wouldn’t give that up.” baekhyun has to smile at that.

“why would the king hire an assassin to babysit me?”

“i’m not here to babysit you,” taemin answers, looking away. a gust of wind blows his hair into his eyes and he pushes it away, movements sharp, precise. “that’s chanyeol’s job. i’m here to tell the king what you’re up to, but honestly, i don’t like him much.” the corner of his mouth tilts up. “don’t tell him i said that.”

“so you’re here to spy on me.”

“not you,” taemin says after a long moment. “the king.”

baekhyun takes chanyeol with him when he goes down to the kitchens the next day, where true to his word, kyungsoo is singing softly, his voice floating out the doors and curling around the two of them in a soft caress. some of his best memories are tied to chanyeol playing his guitar and the three of them crowding around him, singing. jongdae’s voice always soared above the rest, kyungsoo’s warm and rich and deep, and baekhyun filled in the gaps between them. sometimes chanyeol would join in, too, and he worked well with all three of them, but especially kyungsoo. it was a different kind of magic, but one just as valid as spells and shifters.

avah has already left, and it’s kyungsoo bossing the other chefs around, his presence a hundred times larger than his body. out of the corner of his eye, baekhyun spots lukas running out of one of the pantries with a bag of rice in his arms. rice is a rare treat unless they have favorable trading from lis rathe, which is where they get most of it. it’s always stocked in the palace but even as royalty they save it for special occasions.  

“it’s a welcome for the guest,” kyungsoo says when he asks. “your new shadow.” they both glance at chanyeol, who looks back at them with his lips pressed tightly together. all three of them understand very well that the freedom chanyeol might have given baekhyun as his bodyguard is more than likely to be coming to an end. “if you two are here, you might as well help out. don’t steal anything, baekhyun.” he directs them away, going back to chopping his onions once they’re out of his hair.

baekhyun is humming under his breath, filling the silence where kyungsoo’s singing used to be, when kyungsoo looks up, staring right at him. “oh, baekhyun? you’ll probably be happy to know taemin doesn’t like cucumbers, either.”

taemin looks different, softer, in the flickering lamplight of their dinner table. baekhyun watches him, because he is the most fascinating thing that has ever happened to him and for some reason he just cannot tear his eyes away.

chanyeol, from baekhyun’s left side, nudges his knee with his own under the table. he nudges right back, taking a long sip of the wine. it’s their most expensive kind, imported from elora itself. the king is flaunting their wealth, which seems a little overkill in baekhyun’s opinion.

taemin smiles at him as though he can guess what he’s thinking, eyes still clear and sharp. he’s probably had none of the wine, but his cheeks are full and a little flushed, the golden light of the lamps making him look almost painted.

“what do you think of el dorado?” the king asks taemin, and any authenticity in his smile melts away as his focus shifts away from baekhyun.

he misses his mother. the king had told him she’d went to bed early with a headache. he hasn’t seen her in what feels like forever, and it frustrates him, because he doesn’t understand what he’s done to cause the distance.

“it’s beautiful,” taemin says, echoing what he had told baekhyun about elora last night. baekhyun gets a little hung up on how he says beautiful , how he sounds out the syllables so softly. if the looks and magical aura weren’t enough to identify him as a foreigner, his voice is a dead giveaway — there’s nothing of el dorado in the way he speaks. “the name suits it.”

chanyeol bounces a little in his seat, and the king inclines his head. “what’s elora like?” the question bursts out of him like he’s been wanting to ask it for a while, and baekhyun smiles at his eagerness. “soo — kyungsoo, he tells us stories, stuff he read in his books at that fancy library.” the king has stopped listening, an aide murmuring in his ear, and chanyeol is free to be as excited as he likes.

“you’ve never been outside either?” taemin murmurs. his plate is empty, and he’s sitting back in his chair, rubbing his stomach in slow, wide circles, reminding baekhyun of a cat. it’s… cute.

“well, not… no,” chanyeol says. he glances at baekhyun, who raises his eyebrows at him. the king rises, hurrying out of the room, and there’s a horrible second of silence where baekhyun does not know what to do or think. then chanyeol being chanyeol, he continues, “baekhyun here, he can’t even go outside the palace” — taemin’s eyes flick to baekhyun, face unchanged — “i’m always supposed to be with him. so there really haven’t been any opportunities for me to go outside. and i…” his cheeks color, eyes cast down onto the table. “i can’t read, so. there’s no point for me to go, even to visit kyungsoo.” he looks up as if daring taemin to comment.

“i’m sure kyungsoo would have loved to see you, whether you can read or not,” taemin says gently. “if you’re expecting me to say something, don’t. you do your job well; it’s not necessary for you to have that skill, and you’re not any lesser for it.” baekhyun feels warm, warmer so when taemin turns his attention back to him. “why can’t you go outside?”

“something stupid we did as kids,” baekhyun answers, running a tongue over his teeth. taemin won’t stop looking at him, either. “princes just have higher consequences.”

this makes taemin laugh for whatever reason, except it’s not just a laugh, it’s a giggle, and baekhyun is far too hot again. he tugs at his collar, accidentally meeting chanyeol’s eyes.

chanyeol digs his elbow painfully into baekhyun’s side, and he yelps, smacking his arm repeatedly. “you’ve been spending too much time with soo! you know what. you’re not allowed in the kitchens anymore. you’ll have to spend all your free time with jongdae.”

chanyeol’s eyes widen comically, making baekhyun laugh into his glass. “please don’t do that to me, baekhyun.”

“with my power as prince —”

“oh, shut up,” chanyeol says, rubbing baekhyun’s head and demolishing his perfectly coiffed hair. he hums a little, leaning into the touch. “you have no power over me. i saw you in your nappies.”

baekhyun’s eyes fly open, and he jams his fingers into chanyeol’s side. chanyeol wheezes with laughter, angling his body away and almost falling off his chair. taemin watches the two of them with a small smile on his face, and when baekhyun looks at him, he knows it’s a real one.

the king has left again, baekhyun finds out during breakfast with his mother. taemin is standing by the doorway, and he keeps glancing up at him, brows furrowed. something has been off in the past few weeks — the king’s been gone more and for longer, and now with an eloran assassin and magic user in the picture, everything’s out of balance. his mother won’t speak, either, hurrying through her food as though she can’t wait to get away from him.

so baekhyun does what he does best — talks, about anything and everything, about how he’s been spending more time tending the gardens with jongdae, finding peace in helping the flowers bloom, how he’s read a book on astronomy recently and is somewhat positive he can point out the constellations and put names to the collections of stars. his hands are shaking when he’s done with his breakfast, and his mother only says their tea is cancelled and to find some other way to occupy himself.

he asks taemin if he knows how to play chess.

the pieces are, of course, all gold, color coded with jewels studded into the figures — half the pieces are inlaid with diamond, and the other half with obsidian, both mined from various locations around el dorado. jewels and gold contribute to el dorado’s thriving economy, found aplenty in their oasis in an almost too good to be true fountain of wealth.

taemin is very good at chess, but so is baekhyun, and they play in silence for several minutes, equally matched. eventually, baekhyun gets lucky or taemin gets unlucky, and he backs taemin into a checkmate. taemin leans back, grinning, a real smile. it’s stunning, his eyes curved into crescents and the brightness taking over his whole face, and baekhyun cannot, cannot look away.

“not a lot of people can beat me at chess,” taemin says, pushing the pieces back to their original spots. baekhyun does the same, pretending not to notice the way taemin’s eyes are trained on his hands. “do you want to leave?”

“what?” he’s not sure he heard correctly.

that smile is still on taemin’s face. “the palace? do you want to see outside it? the king’s gone, and i can take you in and out without being seen.” one of the rooks topple over. “it’s what i’m good at.”

“why.”

“i think it’s best a ruler knows their subjects,” taemin says, watching baekhyun intently. “it’s not a good thing, that you’re never allowed outside. not for you, and not for el dorado.”

“so what? you’ll sneak me out?” baekhyun moves his pawn two squares forward. he doesn’t like how cryptic taemin’s words are.

“and right back in,” taemin promises.

this time when they play, taemin wins.

it’s afternoon when baekhyun dismisses chanyeol, taemin settling in to the spot just outside his door. he’s carrying a bundle of clothing with him, and he tosses it at baekhyun with a “we leave in an hour, so get yourself ready by then” and a quick close-lipped smile. baekhyun kills time by reading, only half of his mind paying attention to the words on the page. it’s a book about how the palace was first built, back when el dorado was still bursting at the seams with magic. he’s read this particular book so many times he practically has it memorized, and can even somewhat remember what the parts that are blacked out because they mentioned magic say.

baekhyun rests his elbow on the arm of the chair, mind wandering to his childhood. the decree had only come into place when he was thirteen, and before then when he and his friends were even younger their nanny, a lady whose face and name he’s forgotten, had told them bedtime stories of magic and monsters. she’d been working in the kitchens after they’d grown too old to need her, banished when the decree had passed, and baekhyun had never seen her again.

the four of them had been close to the same age, so they’d spent all their time together. jongdae was the gardener’s son, kyungsoo and chanyeol both sons of royal guards, and him the heir to the throne. he, chanyeol, and jongdae had been wild kids, always making a fuss, but kyungsoo had been as quiet as he is now, latching on to their nanny’s retellings with big eyes and a sharp memory. that’s where his love for stories had started, and baekhyun thinks the king had done him a favor by making him leave the palace and work at the grand library.

baekhyun missed the easy way things used to be, though. before the tattoo had showed up, and the only way the decree had affected him was that he wasn’t allowed to talk about certain things anymore, that he didn’t learn things that used to be part of his curriculum any longer. he’s outgrown his tutor, too, a mild mannered man by the name junmyeon who he thinks is also working at the library. he makes a mental note to ask kyungsoo about him.

an hour later, taemin enters the antechamber to find him pacing, dressed in the rough clothes of the common people. the material chafes against his skin just a little, but he doesn’t mind. not if it means freedom. “don’t worry so much, little prince.”

“i’m older than you,” baekhyun says without looking at him.

“only by age,” comes taemin’s soft answer, and baekhyun finally lets his eyes rest on him. taemin’s also no longer in his leather gear, looking a lot freer in the simple brown tunic. for the first time, baekhyun can make out a tattoo disappearing into his clothes, on his chest. almost in a daze, he reaches out to rest his fingertips on the black curves peeking out of the cut of the tunic taemin is wearing, wondering if the tattoo is connected to whatever taemin can do.

“what is it?” baekhyun asks, voice hushed.

to his surprise, taemin reaches up to grab baekhyun’s wrist, pressing his palm flat against the skin of his chest. he’s burning under baekhyun’s fingers. “maybe you’ll find out someday.” his eyes are so dark that baekhyun feels a little dizzy, like if he tipped into them he’d keep falling without a bottom in sight. “let’s go.”

there are tunnels underneath the palace, ones baekhyun himself hadn’t known about. there hadn’t been any mention of them in the book he read, he thinks.

he holds on to taemin’s arm as they descend, the only light a flickering torch clutched in each of their hands. the tunnels are cool, but not as cold as it gets at night, lined with stone. there’s an occasional image carved into the walls, and baekhyun thinks he can make out an ercinee.

“how did you know about these?” baekhyun doesn’t raise his voice above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the almost sacred quiet.

“they were built before the palace,” taemin answers, just as softly. “el dorado used to be a city of smugglers and thieves, and these tunnels were useful then.” he turns his head a little so baekhyun can make out his smile. “useful now, too.” baekhyun’s fingers tighten on taemin’s sleeve. “anyway, el dorado’s first kings were perhaps the most successful smugglers, so they built this palace right on top of the concentration of the most tunnels.” he shrugs a little, fabric slipping off his shoulder. baekhyun pushes it up with a finger. “i do my research. i’m surprised you didn’t know, actually.”

baekhyun thinks back to the history book. the pages are stained yellow and he’s pretty sure his thumbprints are stamped on the edges of most of them. “i think there’s a lot the king doesn’t want me to know.”

taemin comes to an abrupt stop, holding his torch up to the wall. the firelight is reflected back in his eyes, molten gold among the black. “look.”

it’s exactly how taemin said it happened, the story carved into the stone in pictures. baekhyun traces the image of a little band of thieves running away into the desert with the pads of his fingers. the stone is cold to the touch. as taemin backs away, baekhyun’s hand wrapping around his wrist loosely, the full picture comes into appearance, from the original residents of el dorado to the construction of the palace himself.

it’s almost like the figures are alive. realistically, baekhyun knows it’s probably just the dancing shadows cast by the torch light, but there’s an undercurrent of magic that he can taste on the back of his throat. he lets out a breath. “taemin?”

taemin looks at him then, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. “you feel it too, right?” he glances back up, head tilted back, his throat exposed. soft and smooth and pretty. “i don’t think your father did a very good job stamping all the magic out of this city.”

“let’s go,” baekhyun says faintly, tugging on his wrist. taemin hesitates, then pulls baekhyun’s fingers off, only to slip his hand into his. before baekhyun can react, taemin is facing forward again, pulling him further into the tunnels.

they emerge in a cave, eerily silent but for the faint sounds of dripping water. as baekhyun waves his torch around to illuminate more of it, his breath catches in his throat.

“are these them?” taemin asks, hand tightening in baekhyun’s. the feeling of magic is stronger here, like something bitter and sweet all at once in his mouth. “the ercinee caves?” he pulls out two cloaks, draping one over baekhyun’s shoulders and pulling the hood up to cover his face. his hands linger on baekhyun’s neck, warm and solid.

“yeah,” baekhyun murmurs. “it’s exactly like kyungsoo described it.” he smiles wryly at taemin. “we didn’t make it this far, that day. we never actually got to see them.”

“there aren’t any ercinee in elora,” taemin says, “but there are some in zurith; it’s surrounded by forest.” he starts walking and baekhyun quickens his step to catch up. a part of him misses the warmth of taemin’s hand. “i’ve seen them. they’re beautiful.”

the path from the caves to the market square is surprisingly short, and it’s a pleasant walk. the night is chilly, but taemin is like a furnace, and baekhyun presses close to him, using his body heat to stay warm. taemin tells him more about the ercinee, how their wings look when they’re lit up, like beacons of light and magic.

“i think you’d like elora,” taemin says. they left their torches snuffed out in the caves, and baekhyun’s not quite sure what to do with his hands. “you should visit sometime. when you’re king.”

“doesn’t feel like i’m ever going to leave this place,” baekhyun says. “i mean, i’m twenty-two, and this is the first time i’ve been properly outside the building i was born. and when i’m king, i’ll have a thousand things to do. always busy.”

“your father’s travels a lot,” taemin reminds him. “don’t stress about it too much. i promise you there’s more to life than just el dorado, and you will get to experience it.” baekhyun doesn’t know how he can be so sincere. “we’re here.”

their path merges onto the main road, where there’s a stream of people going in and out of the market square, which is lit up with lines of lanterns.

“i’d ask you to show me around, but i guess you know only marginally more about this place,” taemin says to him, the corner of his mouth lifted.

“i’ve studied maps,” baekhyun says, then amends, “well, i’ve looked at them. but there’s no better teacher than experience, right?”

“experience,” taemin says, laughing a little. “right.”

baekhyun leads him into the square, which is still full of people even though it’s steadily getting darker. he almost bumps into a camel placidly eating, and apologizes to both it and its owner hurriedly, not wanting either of them to see his face. taemin hooks his elbow through baekhyun’s, dragging him from stall to stall, one selling dates, the next hand carved jewelry. once again, baekhyun has forgotten taemin is younger than him, but it’s apparent, now. assassin or not, his eyes are sparkling as he weaves baekhyun through the crowd, pointing out vendors and trinkets he finds interesting.

there’s a booth selling coconut juice, and baekhyun buys two flasks of it, face hidden in his hood. he pours the small silver coins into the vendor’s hand, paying just a little extra because he can. the vendor smiles gratefully; she’s missing a few teeth, but baekhyun smiles back, even though she can’t really make it out. he hands one of the flasks to taemin, watches him unscrew the cap and take a small, cautious sip.  

“el dorado favorite,” baekhyun says, grinning as taemin’s nose scrunches up. “you’ve never had it?”

taemin’s face smooths out, a smile hovering at the corner of his mouth. “i have more freedom than you, but believe it or not, my job doesn’t really allow me a lot of leisure time.” he takes another sip, getting used to the taste. “this is nice.”

“you wanted to come here just as much as i did, didn’t you?” baekhyun asks, not waiting for an answer as he continues, “let’s go to the library. there’s a tavern by it that sells good spicy rice cakes.”

“rice cakes? must be expensive… but hey, you’re the prince,” taemin says a bit cheekily, and baekhyun lets out a surprised laugh at the look in his eyes.

they wander up the path to the section of the city where the library is, and taemin tells him, “the prime minister of elora is not as strict as el dorado’s king. for people like you or i, it’s really the best city to live in. the government officials are equally divided between those with magic and those without, so everyone gets a fair say.” baekhyun sips at his coconut juice, listening with interest. “haledo, though… that city is visually stunning. there’s so much water — the city is built on it, right in the middle of a large lake, and the water is so, so blue. and incredibly clear, too; you can lean right over the edge of the path and see your face reflected back at you.” baekhyun’s eyes widen, and taemin laughs a little. “yeah. beautiful is an understatement, really. the palace there is built out of marble, and it’s truly a sight to behold when the sun is rising behind it, lighting it up.”

taemin’s gaze is unfocused, his mind clearly a million miles away, and baekhyun is jealous that he has gotten to see so much. “there are naiads, right?”

taemin looks at him in surprise, and for the first time, baekhyun notices a thin gold band around his upper left arm. “yeah. pretty little things, everywhere in the lake, the wells, anywhere there’s fresh water. water based magic is most common there, and everyone seems to have more or less accepted it. they live peacefully in haledo, and it doesn’t hurt that the naiads don’t cause a whole lot of trouble… they really love the princess.”

baekhyun smiles. “princess aiyana. i don’t blame them.” he really wishes there had been a spark there. she’d been so sweet.

taemin’s eyes narrow just a little before his features relax. “indeed.”

“but the witches?” baekhyun asks. “the ones who killed elora’s prime minister. i thought they would’ve come from haledo. i mean i… i doubt they’re eloran.”

“i don’t think they’re eloran either,” taemin says. “you’re right, they could’ve come from haledo. there are a lot of elemental witches there; they like all of the open water.”

“you know so much,” baekhyun murmurs.

“it’s not your fault that you don’t know all of this,” is all taemin says.

the library is bigger than baekhyun could’ve ever imagined, even though he’s heard kyungsoo describe as one of the most wondrous buildings in el dorado, second only to the royal palace itself. they stop at the tavern adjacent to it, taemin buying a platter of spicy rice cakes. they settle into a corner, taemin balancing the plate in one hand and licking sauce off his other.

“kyungsoo was right,” baekhyun says. “this is…” he trails off as taemin puts his hand on his waist and pushes him back against the wall. “what are you —”

“royal guards,” taemin murmurs. baekhyun wonders if he can hear how fast his heart is beating. “if they see you, we’re both in trouble.” he smells like vanilla and a hint of something darker, more subtle. “good thing you’re shorter than me.”

he peeks over taemin’s shoulder, calmly eating a rice cake. taemin’s eyes widen as he notices it’s the last one, and he nudges baekhyun’s shoulder gently. “hey —”

baekhyun shoves the last piece of the cake into taemin’s mouth, snickering as he chokes.

“you’re a menace,” taemin says, tongue darting out to catch a spot of sauce on his full lower lip. baekhyun looks away, laughter dying in his throat. “i’m resigning and going back to elora, effective tomorrow.”

baekhyun glances over his shoulder again. the guards are gone, but he makes no move to push taemin away. “tomorrow? why not immediately?”

taemin just looks at him for a bit, then steps back, grabbing baekhyun’s elbow and directing him back to the counter. where he returns the plate. “you see that group in the opposite corner?” he says in a low voice. baekhyun tries to look without making it obvious he’s staring at them. “they’re talking about your father. more specifically, getting rid of him.”

“how… how can you hear that far?”

“magic,” taemin answers simply, baring his teeth slightly, and all of a sudden baekhyun remembers that taemin is dangerous. a killer. “i didn’t just bring you out here so you could drink coconut juice. people aren’t happy with your father’s decree, and rebellion isn’t going to end well.” baekhyun swallows, remembering the way conversation had stilled, just a little, when the guards had appeared. el dorado’s are clearly suspicious of royal rule, at best. “i came here because there’s something bigger going on, involving your father, some bigger reason than just being scared of magic for him to try and destroy all of it in this city — and then try to do the same for others. why do you think he’s been making all those trips? he wants to expand the treaty, and believe me, he’s going to use you to do it, too.” baekhyun stumbles back a little, and taemin pulls at his arm, escorting him out of the tavern. “you need to do something.”

“what?” baekhyun asks, wrenching his arm out of taemin’s grasp. “what do you want me to do?”

“learn,” taemin says insistently. he puts his hands on baekhyun’s shoulders, looking him right in the eyes. “learn how to use your magic. you have an advantage.”

“how?” baekhyun whispers. “i-i can’t even control my shifts; i dream of people and — and i wake up as someone else. that’s how my magic works.” he draws the cloak tighter around himself, the night all of a sudden even colder.

“i’ll teach you,” taemin says simply, and baekhyun sucks in a breath. taemin’s eyes soften, his hand going up to cover baekhyun’s tattoo. his rings are cold against the flush of baekhyun’s skin. “i’ll teach you.”

he wakes up panicking, drowning in his sheets. there’s a mirror above his bed, and he sits up, hands flying to his face — no, not his face. taemin’s. it’s taemin’s dark eyes staring back at him, the rose on his neck gone, and he falls back, breathing heavily.

the door bursts open, and baekhyun looks up to meet taemin’s eyes, which widen only briefly before his face falls back into its guarded state.

“change back.” it’s a quiet command, and baekhyun tries. he does. taemin shakes his head at him. “your father’s here. change back.”

“i-i can’t,” baekhyun says. he can’t remember his nightmare but it clings to him, makes his breathing heavy and his mind a mess. he rubs at his face, his tears hot on his cheeks. “please. i can’t do it.”

“hey,” taemin says, gentler than baekhyun’s ever heard him. he takes baekhyun’s hands in his own, and it’s confusing to see two sets of taemin’s hands overlapping each other. “look at me. it’s okay.” baekhyun stops shaking, his tears subsiding as taemin murmurs to him, telling him it’s okay, over and over. “i need you to breathe, okay? focus. remember yourself. remember what you look like.”

baekhyun’s hands tighten. taemin continues, softly, steadily, “remember who you are. what you love, who you love, what you don’t. your friends. whatever it takes.”

slowly, baekhyun can feel his heart slowing down, and he watches his hands get larger, his fingers lengthening. taemin smiles up at him, not letting go, and says, “we start this afternoon. get a couple more hours of sleep in, and be ready.”

kyungsoo is chopping potatoes when baekhyun enters the kitchen alone, taemin choosing to hang back by the doorway. chanyeol is hopefully doing what he’d asked him last night and sleeping in.

“hey,” jongdae asks, appearing out of nowhere and stealing a slice of cucumber from kyungsoo’s table. he pops it in his mouth just as kyungsoo turns the full force of his glare on him, and he ends up choking a little, stepping behind baekhyun. “um. anyway, baekhyun, how was your little trip?” he keeps his voice low, resting his chin on baekhyun’s shoulder in a semi-awkward backhug.

“eat all the cucumbers you want,” baekhyun says, and kyungsoo lets out a little sigh, going back to his work. “how’d you know about it?”

“chanyeol told us.” kyungsoo answers for jongdae, raising his knife. they both flinch, but he just pulls another potato toward him. “relax, i’m not going to kill you two.” he purses his lips, lining the knife up, and pushes down. “chanyeol would be sad.”

“never make a joke again,” baekhyun says, and jongdae’s arm snakes out to take another dozen cucumber slices. “i saw the library. didn’t go inside but… it was beautiful.” he slings his arm around kyungsoo, watching the steady rhythm of his knife, paying no attention to how clingy jongdae is being. baekhyun is the king of clingy, and jongdae is but a pale imitation. “oh, yeah… you know my old tutor? junmyeon? you ever see him?”

kyungsoo nods. “we work together a lot. just as quiet as he used to be, and just as smart, too. he says you were his favorite student, by the way.”

“i was his only student…” baekhyun begins, and kyungsoo bursts into laughter. jongdae, cheeks stuffed, almost chokes. baekhyun rubs his back, saying, “that’s why cucumbers are evil.”

“where’s the king?” baekhyun asks, capturing one of taemin’s pawns.

taemin’s eyebrows draw together, and he opens his mouth to say something, then thinks better of it. he moves one of his pieces forward, jaw clenched, and says, “right now? in a meeting.”

“where’s my mother?” he’d seen her last night at dinner, where she’d looked at him like she knew where he’d been just hours ago. their talking had shrunk to an absolute minimum, and it makes him antsy.

taemin looks up at him, through his eyelashes. baekhyun’s hands are shaking as he pushes his rook up three squares. “her room.” he blinks, slow, lashes dragging against his cheek. baekhyun wants to — “you can ask, you know. what you really want to know.”

“how do i know i’m me,” baekhyun whispers, wiggling in his seat. sometimes he feels uncomfortable in his own skin, like it’s wrong , and he’s thought more than once of the possibility that this look that he has isn’t his own. maybe it’s foolish because it’s the only face he’s ever known, but what if? what if he’s altered small things about his appearance without even having noticed? how much of him is even real?

“check,” taemin says. he sits back, smiling at baekhyun, and baekhyun’s suddenly unsure when he started to feel so much comfort around the assassin. “your tattoo.” he puts his hand on his chest where his own tattoo is, covered again by the black leather. “it’s your anchor; every shifter has one. have you ever noticed that when you shift, it disappears? that’s how you can make sure you’re really you.”

“so you’re a shifter, too,” baekhyun says, moving his king. he stares at where taemin’s tattoo would be, right over his heart. what is it?

“not like you,” taemin answers, eyes narrowed as he surveys the board. “but yes. check.” baekhyun lets out a sigh. “you can change your appearance at will, but you always stay in human form. i’ve met a couple shifters like you. damn it, you’re good at this. anyway, i can shift my physical form into that of an animal, but i can’t make myself look like another person. my type of shifting is rarer, but in my opinion, it’s not as useful — at least, not in my line of work.”

“check,” baekhyun says. taemin rubs at his eyes. “uh, about last night…”

“what about it?”

baekhyun swears his face is bright red. “sorry about, uh. i didn’t mean to end up looking like you — i must have dreamt about you or…” his face is definitely red by now, and taemin is laughing at him softly. “sorry?”

“don’t be,” taemin snickers. “i mean, i was a little shocked at first, but hey, i’m flattered you had a dream about me. checkmate.” baekhyun curses under his breath. “besides, i have a nice nose, don’t you think?”

baekhyun stares at him for so long even taemin’s cheeks are a little red by the time he stumbles out a “y-yeah. nice nose.” nice face , he thinks hazily. nice everything . “d-do you have a favorite… animal form?”

taemin wrinkles his nose at him. it is cute. so cute. “i mean… i guess.” he rests his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers and putting his chin on his hands. his eyes are sparkling. “i like being a tiger,” he says with a grin. “ever seen one in real life?” baekhyun shakes his head. there used to be a tiger at the royal zoo, but when the decree was passed the zoo was shut down as it had contained magical creatures. all regular animals had been sent away, and baekhyun doesn’t know where. he’d never been allowed in the zoo in the first place, always having been told he was too young. “it’s incredible, holding that much raw power in your hands — or i guess, paws.” baekhyun snorts, resetting the board.

“what are we supposed to do? tonight?” he’s determined to win this game. “look. i’m still… unsure as to why you’re helping me, especially since i don’t know anything about magic. why don’t you just do it? lead a rebellion? why do you need me?”

“a part of me,” taemin says, “is doing this for completely selfish reasons. i need to know what’s going on with your father because i don’t want elora to go down the path el dorado did. i like my magic; it’s useful and it’s fun , the way it’s supposed to be. this world was meant to have magic. i don’t want it wiped out.” he pinches the bridge of his nose.

resting back on his arms, baekhyun just waits silently for taemin to gather his thoughts. this pattern they’ve fallen into, even though it’s been just a few days since taemin had come here — he likes it. maybe a little too much, considering he still doesn’t know a lot about him.

“who do you think the people of el dorado are going to trust to lead them more?” is all taemin says, starting another game. “who do you think the king will trust more, will allow to get close to him, to find a potential weakness? an eloran government assassin? or the crown prince?”

it’s the dead of night when taemin wakes baekhyun with a light hand over his mouth. “hey. chanyeol’s going to be guarding your door tomorrow night; do you want to tell him about this? does he already know about your shifting?”

“yeah,” baekhyun says, words slurred with sleep. “yeah, you can tell him. or — i’ll tell him. yeah.”

“did you know,” taemin says, sitting back on his heels. baekhyun can’t read the look in his eyes. “that you’re loud even in your sleep? you make all kinds of noises.”

baekhyun licks his lips, staring silently at him because he doesn’t quite know what to say, and taemin’s eyes flutter shut for just a second. “get dressed, little prince. i’ll be waiting for you outside.”

when baekhyun slips out, the two of them head down to the tunnels together. baekhyun had suggested them, knowing the chances of them being caught there versus anywhere inside the actual palace were much smaller. taemin’s footsteps are a lot lighter than his, he notices, almost unnoticeable.

“can you teach me to fight?” he asks abruptly. “i mean, i already know how to fight. i was forced to learn martial arts for most of my life, but… i’m assuming you know more than i do. not to mention i’m out of practice.”

taemin hums his assent, motioning to baekhyun to sit down on the cold stone floor. he does, legs crossed a little reluctantly, feeling the chill travel through his whole body. “we’re going to start with the magic, though, since you learning to control it is imperative.” taemin sits across from him, stretching his legs out. baekhyun really likes his legs. “it’s different for everyone, but the basis is the same: you visualize how you want to look like, and you let your magic manipulate your body to get you there. you’ve only ever done it subconsciously, through your dreams, maybe seeing someone you’ve met before, or someone you’ve completely made up, and you wake up as that person because your guards against your magic are down when you’re asleep and it just happens naturally.” he taps his own chest. “time for you to figure out how to do it voluntarily. once you know how to do that, you’ll be able to keep your guard up when you’re sleeping and you won’t wake up as someone else ever again.”

there’s a smile playing around the corners of his mouth, but it’s not an unkind one. “have you ever shifted in your sleep?” baekhyun asks.

“all the time, in the beginning,” taemin says. “one time, i woke up in my bed as a snake and my roommate almost killed me. sweet guy, but he can be ruthless when he wants to.”

“like you?”

“like me.” taemin’s giving him that look again, the one that makes him feel restless and hot. “focus. try to shift into me again; it’s easier when you have a visual reference for your first time.”

“you?” baekhyun swallows. taemin holds out his hands, palms up, and baekhyun takes them, gripping tightly. he closes his eyes, then opens them again, studying taemin’s face, the way his eyes curve slightly, the fullness of his lips.

nothing happens.

growling softly, he lets of taemin’s hands, but taemin grabs at his fingers again, chuckling. “patience, little prince. once it clicks, everything will come easier, but it doesn’t just happen right away. i went through a lot of accidental shiftings before i was able to control it.”

baekhyun really likes taemin’s laugh. it’s soft like the rest of him, not what he’d expected from a self-proclaimed assassin, and a little hiccupy. it’s cute , and it’s entirely different from the laughs he’s known his entire life. taemin’s just… different, and it makes him ache. him, the little prince who’s been surrounded by the same things since birth.

squeezing taemin’s hands, he tries again, this time with his eyes closed. he can see taemin’s face perfectly fine in his mind. see his nose, the roundness of it, the mole on the side he’d like to kiss.

his eyes snap open, cheeks flushing. taemin is staring at him, mouth slightly open, gaze fixed to the middle of his face. and then he starts laughing those hiccupy laughs, and baekhyun’s fingers fly to his nose only to realize it’s not his nose.

“well,” taemin says, gasping a little, as it slowly dawns on baekhyun that he has only managed to change that one facial feature, “it’s a start.”

“ slowly , baekhyun,” jongdae instructs, and baekhyun dutifully lowers the pot into the ground, patting the earth down around it. it’s after lunch, and the sun is high overhead, making baekhyun thankful for the thousandth time he doesn’t sweat easily. chanyeol is asleep on a bench, kyungsoo curled in his lap with their cheeks squished together, and jongdae keeps sneaking glances at them like he’s planning to dump dirt down the back of their shirts.

they’ve just finished planting jasmine shrubs into a small section of the garden, a gift from princess aiyana (baekhyun had almost cried), and now they’re shifting a couple of pots of other flowers purely for decorating purposes. jongdae seems to struggle between the idea of making the gardens as beautiful as possible and allowing the flowers to have somewhat permanent homes.

baekhyun’s in a really good mood. it took a while, but he finally figured out how to turn the metaphorical shifting switch on and off, and he’s able to easily turn into taemin at will. it’s a little harder for him to visualize people who aren’t in front of him, but taemin insists it will come with practice, and baekhyun is inclined to believe every word the man says.

more importantly (in his opinion) taemin’s been teaching him how to fight. what that means is baekhyun’s been getting his ass kicked on a regular basis, but even though his body’s complaining, he doesn’t mind in the slightest. taemin fights like he’s dancing, all fluid movements and yet sharp precision, and baekhyun considers it a privilege to even watch . it’s also a good cover-up for when jongdae and kyungsoo inevitably start sticking their noses into his business, as best friends are prone to do.

“so,” jongdae begins, “you’ve been spending a lot of time with that taemin guy lately.” baekhyun hums noncommittally, scooping up a fistful of dirt and letting it trickle through his fingers. “you’re not replacing us, are you?”

his tone is joking, but when baekhyun looks up, jongdae is giving him an assessing look — as though he thinks it might somewhat be true.

baekhyun sits back on his heels. “jongdae, you guys are my best friends in the entire world, however big it is. i could never, ever replace you.”

“just feels like there’s something you’re not telling us, is all,” jongdae mumbles, but he’s smiling.

“okay, the truth is, taemin’s been teaching me to fight,” baekhyun admits. it is the truth, even if it’s partial. he’s sick of keeping stuff from them. “he’s really skilled, and this could come in handy when i’m…”

“king?” jongdae asks. baekhyun chews at his lower lip.

it doesn’t make sense, him ever becoming king. but maybe the current king doesn’t realize how his views are the complete opposite of his son’s? and maybe once baekhyun is in power, there won’t be any magic left for him to save.

that’s why the rebellion is so important , he thinks, realizing at that very moment how much he likes having his magic. ever since he’s stopped trying to tamp it down, he’s felt it in the back of his throat and under his skin, and he hates the thought of being without it.

“what are you thinking about?” jongdae prompts, and baekhyun runs dirt-stained hands through his hair absently, shaking his head.

“would you follow me?” baekhyun asks, staring right at jongdae. “if something were to happen, would you follow me?”

“always,” jongdae says simply, grabbing baekhyun’s arm. “all of us would.”

baekhyun nods, quiet for once. the four of them joked around a lot — and still do — about how baekhyun was the prince and technically had power over them, but he knows it’s not about that. his friends are the most loyal people he’s ever come across, and he’d follow them to the ends of the world as well.

“do you,” he says, thinking of something, “want to dance?”

“um,” jongdae says, brows furrowing, “what?”

“wake those two idiots,” baekhyun says, scrambling to his feet. “and meet me in the dining room.” with that, he’s headed inside the castle, first stopping by his room to pick up his music player before making his way to the dining room. once there, he pushes the tables to the side, humming under his breath. it’s delightful, the freedom he gets with the king out of the castle.

“what the hell are you doing?”

baekhyun looks up to see taemin surveying him with an amused glint in his eyes, and says, “don’t just stand there; help me with these.”

“what are you planning on?” taemin asks, doing as he said. baekhyun shoots him a quick grin, already in a better mood.

“dancing,” baekhyun says. “i was forced to learn all kinds for socialization purposes as prince, and i might as well put it to good use.” finally, there’s a large cleared area, and since there’s only five people he doesn’t bother with the rest of the tables.

jongdae, chanyeol, and kyungsoo file in, chanyeol still looking a little dead on his feet. baekhyun claps his hands, and jongdae lets out a groan.

“i command you with my power as prince,” baekhyun says immediately, and jongdae rolls his eyes.

taemin puts a hand at the small of his back and baekhyun almost jumps. “if no one else will dance with you, then i will,” taemin says, looking surprisingly excited. “this is my favorite thing to do.”

“really?” baekhyun squeaks. jongdae rolls his eyes again.

“am i here to fifth-wheel?” he complains as baekhyun starts the music and chanyeol grins shyly down at kyungsoo, all traces of exhaustion seemingly gone.

“aw, don’t worry, i’ll dance with you later,” baekhyun coos.

jongdae lets out a snort, but he’s all smiles as he watches kyungsoo lead chanyeol around the room in a waltz. chanyeol clearly has no idea what he’s doing, but kyungsoo is patient with him in a way exclusive to chanyeol, and baekhyun almost bursts out into tears at how sweet it all is. he loves them. he loves their love. he’s a sappy guy.

“where d’you think he learned that?” jongdae asks, and baekhyun has the sudden mental image of his old tutor junmyeon teaching kyungsoo how to waltz.

shaking his head, he holds out a hand to taemin, who grins at him before taking it. he willingly lets taemin take control, wanting to see if he’s as good at dancing as he as fighting.

he is. it’s frightening, really — baekhyun had thought that his fighting had the qualities of dance in it, and taemin on the dancefloor is a dangerous phenomenon. his arm is a heavy weight around baekhyun’s waist, and baekhyun can’t tear his eyes away from taemin’s face and his dark, dark eyes.

“i’ll just dance with this plate or something,” he hears jongdae grumble behind them, but every bit of him is focused on reminding himself that it’d be a really terrible idea to kiss taemin.

it always seems like taemin can read his mind. right now, his eyes are trained on baekhyun’s lips, a small (real) smile playing about his mouth, and baekhyun really, really, really wants to kiss him.

“hey loverboys,” jongdae yells, and it snaps baekhyun out of his daze. “chanyeol’s about to fall asleep on kyungsoo and crush him with his giant bony ass. also, i’m tired of dancing with a plate. can we call it a night so you two can make eyes at each other in private?”

taemin snickers, and suddenly baekhyun is full on laughing, burying his face into taemin’s chest with his shoulders shaking. taemin lets out a tiny “oh” before his arms come up to wrap around baekhyun’s form, rocking the two of them slightly.

“gross,” jongdae says brilliantly. “i’m out. goodnight, prince baekhyun, let’s not do this again anytime soon.”

the bubble pops when taemin stumbles into baekhyun’s chambers, covered in blood and reeking of the burn of magic. baekhyun takes one look at him and shoves him into his bathrooms. he gets the water running for a bath, frowning as behind him, taemin slumps against the wall and lets out a soft moan.

“what the hell happened?” baekhyun asks, dipping a finger into the water. “taemin. what the hell happened?”

“it’s not all my blood,” taemin says, and he turns to look at him. taemin’s skin is pale, the flecks of blood dotting his face standing out starkly against his pallor, but he doesn’t look too hurt. baekhyun ignores how relieved he feels. “i… i went home. to elora. and your father was there.”

baekhyun freezes. “and.”

“he was…” taemin tilts his head back, closes his eyes. “after the prime minister died, there’s been a kind of power vacuum. his son, he’s…” he hesitates a little. “he’s missing, and no one knows who should take over in his place. there’s a portion of the eloran people who agree with your father, who think that elora’s tolerance policies should be reversed — at the least; all they’re really pushing for is a complete magic ban like there is here. they want to put a puppet in play, and… i just discovered them. today. your father was with them — he saw me. i’m sorry. but he…”

“taemin,” baekhyun says, “i need you to tell me everything.”

“he’s working with them,” taemin says, staring at the edge of the tub. “they were the ones who sent the witches — from haledo, you were right — to k-kill the prime minister, to make them seem like the good guys. like they were right about how dangerous magic is. i just found out now. i just found out now, i swear — i have to go back.” his eyes are wide, guilty. “this is my fault, i have to go back…”

“the water’s getting cold,” is all baekhyun says. “get in. i’ll be waiting outside.”

he busies himself getting rid of the blood taemin tracked in and readying the first aid kit he has hidden under his bed. as prince he’s expected to sit back as others treat his wounds, but he’d begged the knowledge of basic first aid from the royal healer, recognizing its importance. they used to have a magical healer as well, but he’s obviously long gone; they don’t really have a use for him anymore because magical ailments are also nonexistent.

taemin is taking his sweet time in the bathroom, and baekhyun is someone who gets bored easily, so he ends up just pacing, mulling everything over. taemin has been pretty insistent that the faction of elorans against magic becoming violent had been his fault, and he seemed to know a lot about what was going on in not only his city but those around it as well. that could only mean one thing.

“you’re his son, aren’t you,” is what baekhyun greets taemin with when he walks out of the bathroom. he looks a hundred times better with the blood and sweat off his face, and baekhyun feels a really intense rush of pleasure when it registers that taemin’s wearing his clothes. “you’re supposed to be the next eloran prime minister.”

taemin winces. “yeah.” he looks like he’s debating trying to justify himself, but baekhyun, surprisingly enough, doesn’t care.

“i didn’t think you’d be this irresponsible,” baekhyun says, laughing lightly. “it’s okay, you know. you can go. just take me with you.”

“what?” taemin stares at him, lips a little parted, and baekhyun almost, almost , strides forward and pulls him into a kiss. “why would i do that?”

“what, you think things are just going to be okay when the king comes back?” baekhyun says. “i think it’s time i do what you wanted me to do in the first place. rebel.”

“you want to ask my… friends for help, don’t you,” taemin says, finally smiling a little.

“speaking of friends,” baekhyun says, squaring his shoulders, “i think it’s time i told mine the whole truth.”

all of them take it surprisingly well.

a part of baekhyun deflates, the relief a needle popping the bubble of anxiety rising in him, the thoughts that his confession would cause his friends to shut him out and never speak to him again.

“i’ve spent enough time around magic to recognize it,” he says, shrugging. “i’ve had a feeling that your tattoo wasn’t a normal tattoo for a while, but i never said anything because you never said anything.”

“why didn’t you tell us, baekhyun?” jongdae asks, voice small. “did you not trust us?”

“no!” baekhyun says immediately. “no, oh my god, of course i trust you guys. more than anyone. but i didn’t want you to end up being collateral damage in case the king found out.”

“don’t you think we would’ve been collateral damage anyway,” jongdae points out. there’s a frown etched on his face and baekhyun hates it.

“i’m sorry,” baekhyun says. “i really am. i should’ve told you, but i swear i didn’t mean anything bad by it. and don’t be mad at chanyeol for not telling you guys, either; i made him promise me he wouldn’t.”

they all turn to look at chanyeol, and kyungsoo sighs, patting him on the arm. chanyeol just shrugs.

“look, you guys can be mad at me later,” baekhyun says firmly. “right now, there are bigger things to worry about.” he tells them what the king’s been planning and what he’s already done in elora. “i’m headed there with taemin, to round up reinforcements, and then i’m going to go speak to the people of el dorado. i need to know if you’re with me or not.”

there’s a pause where the three of them just look at him, and then jongdae is saying, “i meant what i said. we would follow you anywhere.”

“good. i need you to get your shit together, and get ready to fight. go with kyungsoo to the library; there are tunnels underneath the castle that will get you to the ercinee caves on the other side of the city. i’ll show you where. get junmyeon to join you, whatever. and then tell everyone in el dorado to be in the market square tomorrow afternoon, that the prince is going to make an announcement. i’ll be back then, i promise.”

“good luck,” chanyeol says softly.

baekhyun swears his eyes are not watering. “stay safe, all of you. if i come back and see any of you dead, i’ll bring you back to my life with my power as prince and murder you,” he threatens, and chanyeol opens his arms wide so baekhyun can scramble into them. kyungsoo slips in on his other side, and jongdae, not one to be left out, completes the huddle, his hair tickling baekhyun’s nose. he holds the sneeze in, squeezing his friends tighter.

“i love you all,” he says, voice muffled by jongdae’s ear and his own incumbent tears.

“gross,” jongdae says, and they all wiggle apart, grinning at each other. “don’t you dare die on us either, baekhyun. it’s not as much entertaining making fun of chanyeol and i’m scared of kyungsoo.”

kyungsoo sends him a winning smile. “as you should be.”

“how’d you get through the desert?” baekhyun asks.

“i flew,” taemin answers. “which, by the way, is how we’re going again. time for you to learn how to ride a dragon.”

“a — wait, what?”

but taemin is already stripping his shirt (no, baekhyun’s shirt) off, stuffing it in his bag. for a second all baekhyun can see is his back and a part of his tattoo that wraps around his body right above his waist. and then he turns, and the entirety of it is finally revealed — a dragon, face in a snarl, emblazoned on taemin’s chest. big and dark and fierce , and terribly, terribly sexy.

like taemin himself.

“can i touch it?” baekhyun asks before he registers what he’s saying. taemin stares at him for what feels like an eternity, tongue resting behind his teeth, before he nods once, quick.

“make it quick, prince,” he murmurs, and then baekhyun is pressing his palm into taemin’s chest. taemin’s voice is shaky when he continues, “when we’re in the air, you need to keep my hands around my neck at all times.” his eyelashes flutter; baekhyun smiles. “i’ll catch you if you fall.”

baekhyun drags his fingers down taemin’s skin, watching with pleasure as taemin’s pupils dilate. “hands around your neck. got it.” he reverses the motion until his hand is resting lightly against taemin’s collarbone.

taemin inhales. “step back,” he orders, and baekhyun reluctantly does as he asks. and then he’s changing , skin rippling with the force of his magic, the dragon tattoo glowing a hot red and seemingly taking over his entire body. baekhyun blinks, and all of a sudden in front of him there’s a dragon — not a terribly large one, but still. he’s speechless, watching it coil around his feet and rear his head above him, a low roar emanating from its throat.

dragon taemin dips its head to nose at baekhyun’s hand, and all of a sudden he realizes that he’s supposed to be fighting a war. gingerly, he settles into the curve between the dragon’s shoulders (do dragons have shoulders?), jerking forward as it takes one step, remembering to wrap his arms around its neck like taemin had said. cheek against its scales, baekhyun feels his first rush of anxiety, a million questions of him falling off and splattering in the desert below crowding his head before he remembers… i’ll catch you if you fall .

he trusts taemin.

baekhyun feels the dragon’s muscles tense beneath him and sucks in a breath, knowing they’re finally about to get off the ground. he squeezes his eyes shut, and the next time he opens them he’s lightheaded and they’re floating amongst the clouds.

“holy shit,” he murmurs intelligently, settling in. the air is cold up here, but dragon taemin’s body is incredibly warm, life thrumming under his fingers. it’s like his own personal furnace.

peering down, he manages to catch hints of the sand below him. the desert isn’t the most visually interesting landscape though, so eventually he gives up and forces him to relax against the dragon’s body. its scales are incredibly smooth, black with little highlights here and there, like chips of obsidian threaded with gold and silver. taemin as a dragon is just as beautiful as taemin as a human.

to his surprise, he feels his eyes slipping shut, lulled by the steady beat of taemin’s wings through the air and the warmth from his body. tightening his grip, he starts running through martial arts forms in his head, desperately trying to stay awake.

he wakes up to the sickening feeling of falling, tumbling through the air in an uncontrolled descent. his throat closes, paralyzed with fear, even as he tries to call out taemin’s name. all he sees for several heart-stopping moments is empty air.

from the corner of his eye, baekhyun makes out a dark shape hurtling toward him, and then the dragon’s jaws close around his waist, holding him lightly enough that he can just barely feel the press of its teeth. it seems like only a few seconds later that taemin’s setting him down.

baekhyun doubles over, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. when he finally straightens, taemin’s pulling on his shirt, cheeks flushed and hair an absolute mess.

“i can’t believe you fell asleep flying ,” taemin says, fixing his collar. baekhyun’s sure he’s laughing at him.

“why’d you pick a dragon?” baekhyun grumbles, stretching out the kinks in his neck. “why not something more… i don’t know, lowkey?”

taemin grins. “where’s the fun in that?” he’s already seemed to have forgotten the fact that baekhyun almost died.

shooting him an unimpressed glare, baekhyun says, “well, at least i crossed riding you off my bucket list.”

taemin doesn’t bat an eyelash. “you call that riding?” his smile turns wicked. “i’ll show you how it’s properly done later.”

baekhyun hates him.

elora really is beautiful. taemin wasn’t lying about the green — it’s more than baekhyun has seen in his entire life. it’s also a hundred times cooler, and he almost doesn’t want to go back to el dorado now that he’s experienced this.

taemin takes him straight to the capitol building, the security simply stepping aside and allowing him to walk through. they don’t look very happy to see him, though, and baekhyun watches as the frown on taemin’s face grows and grows the further inside he gets.

it’s inside what seems to be a vast conference room that baekhyun comes face to face with taemin’s… friends, his fellow group of assassins… or government members, as taemin had said. there’s not as many of them as he’d expected, but then again, elora isn’t the biggest city; it’s only slightly bigger than el dorado itself. they’re all dressed in the same black form-fitting outfits taemin had first arrived in.

one of them, a short guy with chubby cheeks and a demeanor halfway between adorable and dangerous that reminds him of taemin himself, steps forward to hold out a hand for baekhyun to shake. “hey, i’m jimin.”

“he’s scarier than he looks,” taemin whispers loudly. jimin rolls his eyes at him.

baekhyun takes his hand. “is he the one who tried to kill you when you were a snake?"

“he’s still a snake,” jimin informs him, and baekhyun snickers. he likes jimin.

“don’t you dare gang up on me,” taemin says threateningly, and baekhyun is reminded of his own friends. “these are all the members of the group who have magical abilities; consequently they’re closest to me. this is jongin.” taemin waves a tall, golden-skinned man forward. “he’s always pouting; don’t let it get to you so you end up doing everything he asks. this is yixing; he’s got a wicked right uppercut so be sure not to get on his bad side. and last but definitely not least, meet jeongguk. he’s the baby.”

jeongguk the baby is taller than baekhyun, and broader, and frankly looks terrifying. but he starts blushing as soon as baekhyun shakes hands with him, and he has to fight the urge to coo. he’s still, you know, an assassin.

“welcome back,” jongin says quietly, clapping taemin on the shoulder. they all turn to look at him and taemin sighs, sitting heavily down in a chair.

“i screwed up,” taemin says, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“okay, seriously, now is not the time for your angst,” baekhyun snaps. taemin’s friends turn to look at him with various levels of surprise, but he ignores them. “my problems first.”

“greedy,” taemin murmurs, gazing up at him, and behind them, yixing clears his throat. taemin blinks. “you all know the king of el dorado is planning to increase people’s paranoia against magic so he can convince more cities to accept his treaty to spread the magic ban further, and it’s happening even here in elora, where things are better than most. baekhyun is the crown prince, and he’s going to lead a rebellion against his father and take over the kingdom before the king’s plans come to fruition.”

“i need your help,” baekhyun says, picking up where he left off. “the people of el dorado are magicless, and even though they have the motivation, and most of them know how to fight, they’re disorganized. i’m asking for your help, to get them in order, so they’re not completely helpless against the king’s army… and your magic wouldn’t hurt, either, whatever it is. taemin says that there’s a reason the king’s wiping out magic that isn’t just pure paranoia, and we have to find out what that is so we can stop him.”

“it’s for our sake as much as his,” taemin says, not tearing his eyes off of baekhyun. “and even if it wasn’t, i’m asking you to. as your leader and your friend.”

i think i’m just a little in love with you , baekhyun thinks dizzily. the fall had been a lot smoother, more unnoticeable, than the one he’d taken from dragon taemin’s back.

“if taemin,” jimin says softly, “is willing to follow you into war, then so are we.” the rest of them nod, and baekhyun feels his heart swell, just a little.

“you need to rest,” taemin says immediately. “you fell asleep riding me.” yixing coughs again, and this time baekhyun can’t stop the blush that rises to his cheeks. “we’ll regroup in the morning and figure out a concrete plan. jongin, can you show baekhyun to a room, please? i want to go visit my father’s grave.”

baekhyun is halfway out the door before he turns on his heel, almost jabbing his elbow right into jongin’s stomach. hard stomach. “taemin?”

“yeah?” taemin looks up from where he’s staring at the wood patterns of the table, face creased with thought.

“did he… love you? treat you well? your father?”

“the best,” taemin answers, countenance softening. “he was the best.”

baekhyun gives him a stiff nod, allowing jongin to lead him away. they fall into step side by side, baekhyun without a shadow for once, and he has to admit he really likes it. jongin is terribly tall though, and baekhyun is a little disgusted.

“what can you do?” he asks as jongin holds a door open for him. “thank you.”

“you mean my magical abilities?” jongin asks. “i’m actually a vampire.” he bares his teeth.

“seriously?” baekhyun asks, skeptical, and jongin shakes his head, laughing. his laugh is really loud and obnoxious, and baekhyun wrinkles his nose, endeared.

“nah,” jongin answers. “i’m more of a defensive magic user, really. i have immunity from magical powers; which means i can see through your shiftings, stuff like that. it comes in really handy.” baekhyun is impressed. “jiminie has control over temperature; i’m immune to that too. yixing’s a witch… i do get affected by some of the stuff he makes, especially if it’s really potent. and jeongguk has augmentation — which means he strengthens our own powers when we’re around him — but even if his abilities aren’t the scariest, he’s an even better fighter than taemin is. trust me, you do not want to get on his bad side.”

“yeah, i kinda got that vibe from him,” baekhyun says, sinking gratefully down onto a neatly made bed. “thank you. all of you. for helping me.”

jongin eyes him blandly. “taemin really seems to like you,” he answers. “he doesn’t trust people easily; none of us do, in this line of work. but i guess you made a good impression on him.”

biting his lip, baekhyun gives him a tiny nod. taemin is a study of contradictions; hot and cold, young and impossibly old, beautiful and deadly. he can’t imagine it was easy for him to let baekhyun in, but baekhyun is the type of person who worms himself into the cracks in people’s armor just so he can curl up next to their body heat.

“be careful with him, okay?” jongin says softly. he’s standing in the doorway, illuminated by a halo of golden light, and he looks like he’s walked straight out of the pages of a storybook. “if you hurt him in any way, you’ll have to deal with all of us being on your ass.” he cracks a smile. “love him the way he deserves to be loved.”

early the next morning, taemin has baekhyun describe the royal palace in as much detail as possible. jeongguk draws them a plan of the grounds and the building itself from baekhyun’s words, quill scratching pleasantly against paper.

“he’ll be in his throne room,” baekhyun confirms. “the king likes things to come to him in a fight, not the other way around, and it’s heavily guarded. there’s always at least ten guards stationed around him at all times, and there’s about fifty in the palace, total. my personal guard is with my other friends in the grand library. the palace is mostly pretty empty of people; the population in el dorado is small anyway, and the king usually just keeps the cooks and some servants to keep things running smoothly. we rarely get visitors; usually he’s the one who travels. it’s the army we have to worry about; there are at least a couple hundred of them in the barracks, and they serve the king without question. if i’m right, he’s going to be anticipating us, and they’re going to be ready.”

“so he’s active in diplomacy but passive when fighting,” yixing says, and baekhyun nods.

“he wasn’t always… like this,” baekhyun says, rubbing at his cheek. “he used to spend a lot of time with me and my mother, and i always thought he liked magic. i’m not sure what changed.”

taemin frowns down at the map. “a sudden change in his attitude? something must have triggered that.”

“how does he plan on withstanding a magical attack?” jimin asks. “it doesn’t make sense to me; we always have the advantage here.”

“before he stripped everyone of their powers he put wards up all over his bedroom and the throne room,” baekhyun says. “when they were originally put in they rendered magic ineffective in those areas, but they haven’t been renewed since the decree so i’m pretty sure all they do is severely limit instead.”

“so our best bet is to just kill him the old-fashioned way,” yixing says grimly, and baekhyun lets out a soft breath.

he’s far from being the biggest fan of the king, but that’s still his family. he still has good memories of them spending time together, and he’s pretty sure the king had loved him before everything went to shit.

taemin places a gentle hand on his back. “maybe we can convince him to give up the throne without killing him,” he suggests, but baekhyun has a feeling that taemin doesn’t believe that’s going to be an option.

“how are we getting past the desert?” baekhyun asks, giving taemin a serious side-eye. “are you going to turn into a dragon again?”

to his surprise, all of taemin’s friends burst into laughter.

“he turned into a dragon for you?” jeongguk crows, ignoring taemin’s death glare. “oh man, that’s —”

“i will kill you in your sleep,” taemin says slowly. “don’t doubt me.”

“— not funny at all,” jeongguk finishes, coughing a little.

“yixing will apparate us,” taemin says, ears a little pink. “it’s advanced, but he can pull it off with jeongguk’s help.”

“hey,” baekhyun says in a stage whisper, smiling delightedly as taemin’s blush spreads to his cheeks, “you’re cute when you’re trying to impress me.”

yixing makes baekhyun describe the ercinee caves in as detailed a manner as possible, telling him that if he gets the slightest thing wrong the six of them could lose a limb or two. but they all make it in one piece, appearing in the cool dampness with the stench of magic surrounding them, unmistakable.     

although he looks a little worse for wear, yixing manages to cast a simple cloaking spell on them as they make their way to the market square. halfway there, taemin slips his hand into baekhyun’s, squeezing lightly, and some of the dread that’s been settling into baekhyun’s bones lifts.

there’s a crowd milling about in the square, murmuring to themselves, and baekhyun’s knees almost buckle when he spots them. how is he supposed to convince all of them to follow him? to trust him?

“we’ll cover you,” taemin whispers with a light touch to his cheek, and then the other five are gone, vanished into the slowly darkening afternoon.

baekhyun takes a deep breath and strides forward until he’s in the middle of the crowd. no one pays him much attention until he takes his hood off, and then it only takes one shout of “it’s the prince!” for the news to spread like wildfire, and just like that, all eyes are on him.

one of the women in front of him lunges forward like she’s about to punch him in the gut and baekhyun flinches back, but her fist meets an invisible wall instead.

“what the hell?” he hears her say. “that’s…”

“magic,” baekhyun says simply. i’m the prince. “i’m sure you’re all wondering why i asked you to gather here.” the crowd quiets, somewhat, and he raises his voice, continuing, “nine years ago, the king made a terrible mistake. the passage of the decree that banned magic from el dorado was meant to protect its citizens, but all it did was strip this beautiful city of one of the things that made it shine so brightly.” he takes a wild shot in the dark. “i know that some of you have felt it stirring in your bones, that the measures he took weren’t enough to wipe out something so essential. magic is not inherently good or bad. like many things in life, it simply offers us a choice, and does what we decide to do with it.”

the number of people nodding slowly encourages him. “i know this because i, too, have magic. you.” he points to the woman who’d tried to punch him and she comes forward, eyeing him warily. “watch.” he closes his eyes, does as taemin taught him to do, and feels himself changing, growing shorter, curves appearing in his body that weren’t there before. when there’s a flurry of gasps, he cracks his eyes open, smiling at the woman whose form he’s taken. “see?”

he allows them to gape for a minute before turning back to himself. “the king was ruthless. any hint of magic, he went after, sparing no one. and those of you that are discovering that you may have abilities that can’t be explained away are afraid. i understand.” he holds up as a hand as the whispers start up again, and to his joy, they stop almost immediately. “which is why i’m asking you to unite behind me. i plan on changing things, on becoming a king a little earlier than planned and letting magic flourish in this city again. i know it’s a lot to ask. i know you’re scared. but i’m willing to fight for you, and i need to know that you are ready to return the favor.”

his stomach churns as no one, no one, says anything for several moments.

“i will fight with you.” baekhyun blinks as the woman he’d shifted into gathers herself up, eyes blazing with a fierce determination. “i will fight with you. we’ve all been wanting things to change around here for a long time, and you’ve been the first one with an actual plan. so i am with you, prince.” and so the metaphorical dam breaks, as more and more people pledge to fight behind him, and if they weren’t about to kill the king, baekhyun would start crying with relief — and pride. he’s proud of his people.

“there are,” he begins, and even faster than last time everyone falls silent, “people i have brought, friends of mine, who will direct you and help you get organized as much as possible in the next few hours. grab whatever weapons you have. if you have been practicing your magic at all, do not rule out the possibility of using it in the coming fight. the king’s army may have numbers and skill, but you have determination. courage.. i have no doubt that we will win this. and,” he says, more softly, “thank you. all of you. i am proud to call you my people.”

all of a sudden, taemin is by his side, shouting orders at the other four members of their group. baekhyun leans into his chest, shaking a little, and taemin wraps his arms around him, pressing a kiss to his head.

“i’m so proud of you,” he hears taemin murmur. “baekhyun, i’m so proud of you.”

“now’s the hard part,” baekhyun says, squeezing taemin’s waist. he can feel his soft laughter through his body, and he really does not want to let go. “do you really think this is going to work?”

“i have faith in you,” taemin says, cupping baekhyun’s cheek.

“when this is all over” — taemin’s thumb is pressing into the corner of his mouth — “stay with me.” he curls his fingers into taemin’s shirt, voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “my dragon prince.”

“i’m not a prince,” taemin says roughly, and finally, finally he’s kissing him, mouth insistent. baekhyun’s brain is fried, all thoughts of war and magic flying straight out of his head. it’s a push and pull like their entire relationship has been, taemin’s teeth closing over baekhyun’s bottom lip and baekhyun’s tongue licking into taemin’s mouth. taemin doesn’t give an inch and neither does baekhyun.

taemin pulls back first, resting his forehead against baekhyun’s. “we’ll finish this later, baekhyunnie,” he says, lips against his cheek, and baekhyun leans forward to kiss him one last time.

“ahem,” comes a voice, and baekhyun whips around to see his friends beaming at him. jongdae forcefully pulls him away from taemin to wrap him in his own arms. “i’m glad you’re okay.”

“we’re,” chanyeol corrects, herding them all together in another group hug, “glad you’re okay.”

“you seem to have learned a lot more than i could’ve ever taught you.” baekhyun untangles himself from his friends’ grasp to bow to junmyeon, who’s looking incredibly proud. “a true king.” king. not prince.

“not yet,” baekhyun says, shaking his head. “thank you for joining us, junmyeon.”

“yes, well” — and to baekhyun’s shock, junmyeon’s eyes glow a bright white before his entire body disappears completely — “i was getting a little tired of hiding the fact that i can disappear.” he appears again, looking awfully pleased at himself.

“you guys aren’t hiding anything, right?” baekhyun peers suspiciously at his friends, and they all shake his head.

“we only have the magic of love with us,” chanyeol says, and for one horrible moment baekhyun thinks he’s being serious. it must reflect on his face, because jongdae lets out a really loud chortle and slaps his back. kyungsoo is doubled over, wheezing.

chanyeol shrugs. “it was worth it for the look on your ugly face.”

baekhyun doesn’t remember much about the way to the palace. they step one foot on the grounds, his people a grim mass behind them, and they’re swarmed with the army. it’s a mess of swords clashing against each other, the stink of blood and then magic threaded through the air. taemin is a hurricane around him, focused and destructive, and baekhyun is glad he’s fighting on their side. he dispatches anyone who gets even close to baekhyun and soon they find themselves in the grand entrance hall, which is eerily empty and silent.

“you didn’t even let me get to show off what i learned from you,” baekhyun complains as taemin wipes the flat of his sword on his thigh.

“i’d rather you were never in that position,” taemin answers, resting his knuckles lightly against baekhyun’s cheek before dropping his hand. “are you ready?”

“as i’ll ever be.” deep breath, in, out, and baekhyun grabs taemin’s hand, footsteps echoing as they head to the throne room.

he feels the drain on his magic as soon as he steps inside; he’s been attuned to it for a while now, and he tracks the flow of it down through his body and dissolving onto the stone floor. taemin’s grip tightens on his hand for a brief second, the only inclination he’s also felt it.

the king is sitting on the throne, and as baekhyun’s eyes adjust to the darkness, he’s horrified to see his mother sitting on the floor in front of the king. she looks terrible, her hair a tangled mess and thick dark circles under her eyes. only the contact with taemin’s palm keeps him from running forward to her.

“fool,” the king rasps, and baekhyun’s attention snaps back to him. “do you think i wouldn’t know? i’ve felt your magic growing for the past two years. i’ve felt it growing in the streets of el dorado.”

taemin sniffs the air. “he’s… he has…” baekhyun steps in front of him, hands still linked. “that’s weird. he smells like magic, too, but…”

the king’s laughter is a horrible sound. “all of you are slow. so slow.” he leans forward, not looking worried at all. baekhyun’s breath hitches at how empty his gaze is. “i am more well versed in magic than either of you. i know its power better, its seduction. you are outmatched.”

“it’s dark,” taemin says, drawing his sword. baekhyun doesn’t look away from the king. “baekhyun, he’s corrupted the magic he’s used. that’s not your father anymore.”

at the sight of the blade, there’s a spark of recognition in the king’s eyes. “no,” he whimpers, and baekhyun grabs on to taemin for support — because that’s his father’s voice, his father’s face. “she’ll die. my love, she’ll die. don’t kill me, she’ll die, she’ll die, she’ll die…”

“what are you talking about?” baekhyun breathes. “what do you mean, she’s going to die?” his mother cringes at his tone, face turning away.

“i didn’t mean it,” his father gasps, “i didn’t mean it, i just wanted to save her, she was dying, i didn’t mean it please don’t kill me she’ll die —”

taemin’s face is pale. “there are things you cannot do with magic,” he says. “you can’t conjure items out of thin air, you cannot produce artificial love — only infatuation — and you cannot, cannot bring those who are dead back to life.” baekhyun stops breathing. “it takes a part of your own life force away, allows the corrupted magic to fester in your body and take control.”

“can you fight it,” baekhyun whispers, watching his father’s eyes harden, all weakness dissipating.

taemin shakes his head. “i don’t know.”

“i am in control!” the king roars, and baekhyun jumps. “not just of the foolish, foolish man who used to inhabit this body. of everything .” he points a finger at taemin, whose hands fly up to his neck, knees buckling.

“stop!” baekhyun screams, turning toward taemin, but just a twitch of the king’s hand sends him flying across the room, slamming into a pillar. he clutches at his chest, sure a couple of his ribs are broken, only to see taemin on his knees, his tattoo glowing golden straight through his leather gear. the king’s laughter echoes in his ears as he slowly begins to crawl toward him.

“ah, love,” the king coos, watching baekhyun inch forward as though he were a bug. “the biggest mistake one can make.”

baekhyun meets his mother’s eyes, rimmed with red, and mouths a “sorry” at her, throat burning. she smiles, nodding twice, and baekhyun reaches his hand out to touch the tips of taemin’s fingers, gathering strength.

“fight it!” he yells in the direction of the king. “fight it, your majesty!”

the king’s eyes flicker again. “i can’t” — and it’s his father speaking, voice panicky — “i can’t, she’ll die, she’ll die!”

“if you don’t,” baekhyun says, “then the person i love will die. the people outside, with families and lovers of their own, they will die. i will die.”

“there’s no hope,” the king says, closing his fingers into a fist. taemin writhes, and baekhyun, panicking, grabs his face in his hands, trying to absorb some of his pain. he’s too inexperienced, maybe if he knew more —

the king laughs, clearly enjoying torturing the both of them, and baekhyun snaps, desperate. “i’m your son!” he cries, tears running fast and hard down his cheeks. “fight it! fight it for me! i am your family! fight it, father !”

there’s a moment where everything seems suspended in time, where baekhyun meets the eyes of his father — his father — and suddenly the king’s form is shaking, eyes rolling back in his head. taemin collapses into baekhyun’s arms and he sets him down, gently, before standing as quickly as he can, every second feeling like an eternity, and running toward his parents.

he reaches for his mother’s hand, which is turning colder and colder with every second, eyes swimming with tears. “i’m so sorry,” he tells her, over and over, and she shakes her head at him.

“i was sick,” his mother whispers, chilled hand against baekhyun’s face, “and your father made a terrible mistake.” baekhyun blinks, eyelashes heavy with tears. “don’t repeat it,” she says meaningfully.

baekhyun lets go of her to crawl to his father, who smells like rot and darkness and death. but his eyes are clear and not magic-muddled, and baekhyun puts a trembling hand to his cheek, shaking from the effort of keeping his tears to a minimum.

“i’m sorry,” his father says, and baekhyun helps him over to his mother, watching as she melts into his embrace for what will be the last time. “i love you.”

baekhyun backs away, crossing what seems to be an entire desert before he’s back with taemin. he cradles taemin’s unresponsive head in his lap, too scared to even cry. “don’t you dare die on me,” he stutters, running his thumb under taemin’s eyes. they’re closed, eyelashes resting against his cheeks, and baekhyun can barely tell that he’s breathing. “don’t you dare , taemin, i told you to stay with me after all of this —”

after what feels like an eternity, taemin’s eyes crack open, breath punching out of him in a sharp exhale. baekhyun starts sobbing with relief, vision blurred. taemin sits up, slowly, pained, and pulls baekhyun into his lap, hand curled around the back of his neck and tucking baekhyun’s head under his chin.

“you did it,” baekhyun hears taemin say over his crying. “you did it, baekhyun. you did it. i’m okay.”

baekhyun walks out of the palace supporting his father’s weight, and with the last of his voice commands them to stop. gradually, the fighting ceases, and out of the corner of his eye he sees taemin limp down toward yixing, sees the relief painted on jongdae’s face.

“it’s done,” baekhyun says, voice wobbling. “it’s done.”

baekhyun’s hand is a warm weight on taemin’s neck, lips tracing down the outline of his jaw. taemin whines a little, mouth looking for baekhyun’s own, but he just pushes him down further against his pillow, laughing softly. “isn’t patience an important trait for an assassin?”

“you’re such a tease,” taemin breathes, hands slipping up baekhyun’s shirt so he can thumb at his nipple. “your highness.”

“oh, as if you’re — ah — any better,” baekhyun says through gritted teeth, rocking his hips into taemin’s. he gives in, leaning down to press their mouths together, languid kisses that turn into more so fast it leaves him dizzy.

taemin tugs at his ear with his teeth. “ever since you turned into me that night i’ve been thinking about all the pretty sounds you make when you’re asleep,” he says, pulling baekhyun’s shirt off, “and how to get you to make them when you’re awake.” in one swift motion, he flips the two of them over so he’s hovering over baekhyun instead, and with a tiny laugh, leans down to leave tiny bites over his collarbones.

“well, there’s still so much you’re supposed to teach me.” baekhyun fists his fingers into taemin’s hair, pulling his face up for another kiss, body flush against his. he’s never going to get tired of this. “god, mm, you’re so pretty —” he doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore, murmuring compliments and curses in between every kiss.

when taemin pulls away from him, his cheeks are flushed, lips swollen and slick with spit. “you talk too much. put your mouth to better use.”

for once, baekhyun is happy to be the one following orders.

“so why did the king ban magic, then,” kyungsoo asks, tipping the last of his drink into his mouth. he’s holding hands with chanyeol under the table, not even bothering to be subtle.

“corrupted magic wants to spread,” taemin says, pushing his small plate of cucumbers toward baekhyun, who glares at him and pushes it right back. “it’s easier for it to steal into magicless places than where there’s already a strong magical foothold, so the fewer places with magic, the better.” he kicks baekhyun’s foot. baekhyun kicks back.

they’re sitting in the restaurant by the library, all six of them, eating lunch (taemin’s friends had returned home last night, yixing once again apparating them, no dragons involved). it’s been two days since the fight, and baekhyun still can’t get the taste of blood and fear out of his mouth, but it’s better — and his father is recuperating as well, with avah and her baby hovering over him. there had been very few casualties, neither side actually invested in causing death. the biggest hole in his heart is in the shape of his mother, and he doesn’t think he’ll recover from it, but it’s better. he’s surrounded by his friends, he has taemin, and it’s better.

“what now?” chanyeol asks, getting tired of the two of them and grabbing the plate of cucumbers so he can give it to jongdae. his face is still a little red from where he'd bit into a spicy rice cake on accident, immediately spitting it out and whining loudly.

“now i wait until my father gets better,” baekhyun says, liking the way the words my father feel on his tongue. “when he’s ready, he can sit on that throne again. he caused this mess, and although i’m going to help him as much as possible, he’s the one who’ll have to own up to it. and” — he grins at taemin — “and then i’m going traveling. taeminnie’s going to give me a proper tour of elora, and then i’m going to haledo for some jasmine tea straight from the source, and then lis rathe, and zurith…”

“you deserve it,” jongdae says, mouth full. baekhyun crinkles his nose at him in disgust, but it’s not like he does any better sometimes, his raw self shining through all the etiquette lessons he’s been subjected to since birth. “the four of us will hold down the fort here. have fun with your boyfriend.”

that puts a stupid smile on baekhyun’s face, and jongdae shakes his fork threateningly at him and taemin. “i knew i was going to have to fifth wheel!”

“don’t worry,” taemin says, snickering, “we’ll be out of your hair very soon.”

“just hook up with junmyeon,” baekhyun teases, and both junmyeon’s and jongdae’s cheeks turn an unflattering shade of tomato (not grown locally in el dorado) red, all of them openly laughing at their reactions.

“i’m your tutor!” junmyeon protests. “where’s the respect?”

“ex tutor,” baekhyun answers, ”and i’m your prince.” at that, they all just laugh harder. even jongdae can’t pretend to stay mad at him for long, and when he accidentally snorts, chanyeol almost bowls over, free hand gripping the edge of the table to keep his balance.

they’re ridiculous, all of them, and although things aren’t good quite yet he thinks — as he shares a small smile with taemin — that yeah. it’s better.