Archive of Our Own

They sat together on the rugs, drinking wine made of horse milk and reminiscing about times of old. Chinggis Khan and Jamuga had not been on friendly terms with each other for years, yet no tension existed between them.

The two men lounged together, as if nothing had gone amiss in the last several decades. Recent events brought betrayals buried deep within their hearts fresh to the surface, but both men pushed the pain to the backs of their minds.

Jamuga spoke first. "You never changed, anda. You were always the glorious leader, the one with the right blood, the right blessing, to unite our people. They are content under your rule."

"You were a good leader, too," Chinggis spoke softly.

"But I was born of a cursed blood, born of a woman who was already pregnant when she was taken as a prize," Jamuga said, bitterness in his voice.

Chinggis sighed. He turned to look at Jamuga heavily and raised a hand to the other man's cheek. "I never minded," he said. "We took the oath to become blood brothers thrice."

"And look where we are today," Jamuga continued sardonically, a bitter smirk upon his face. Chinggis's hand dropped. "Live and die together, never leave each other, never break our oath..." he broke off and gave a short laugh.

"You were one of my first friends, and...Do you still remember? The third time, when you helped me hide when my own people were chasing me, trying to kill me? It was you and no one else. I never looked down upon you, never condescended, never was ashamed to be your anda. You were, are, my friend, my brother, my love." The last word he said in a hushed whisper that still traveled to Jamuga's ears.

"I do remember," Jamuga said quietly. "You always defended me to your brothers, to people who wanted you to use me because I have cursed blood and can never become the leader of the Mongol people, can never compete with you. The second time we took the oath, it was all because you defended me in front of your half-brother."

"I still wonder where we went wrong," Chinggis said in the silence that followed. Jamuga looked at him incredulously.

"What do you mean 'where we went wrong'? You were the one who scorned me, even though you say you never did. Such betrayals never leave the heart."

Chinggis's hand lifted, and fingers roughened by war flitted across Jamuga's cheek. "Tell me when," he said in a low voice, eyes dark and urgent.

Jamuga laughed. "You really don't see? Fine, I will refresh your pitiful memory. After we rescued Bortei, my right to host the feast to honor our ancestor was taken away without any protest from you. At first, I thought that it was your adoptive father Toghrul's fault, but then..."

"You thought it was mine," he finished softly. "Toghrul was the one who gave the bowl to me, and...I had wanted to share it with you, hold the bowl with you as we implored our ancestor and promised him that we would avenge him...But he gave it to only me and not you. And had I not taken it, I would have been seen as rude, disrespectful of our wronged ancestor. I am sorry."

"No, it is I who is sorrier...If only I hadn't let my brother persuade my foolish heart..." he sighed and lowered his head.

"When you gave me your ultimatum, I did not want to acknowledge it. I asked for help from Mother and Bortei, but they told me that you had scorned me and that I should move on. And I...if only I had asked you why instead of blindly listening to them. But I had been hurt, and hurt men never confront each other."

"And you actually left. You decided to take your own route and half my people with you."

"I did not mean to. I'm sorry, it was never my intention to harm you. If it's any consolation, I never stopped loving you." Chinggis brought his hand to the back of Jamuga's neck.

"Nor I you," Jamuga replied, raising his head to look at Chinggis and bringing his hand to the back of his neck, covering Chinggis's and then gently prying it off. He held their intertwined hands in front of them.

"I can pardon you," Chinggis said, a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes. "No one will oppose it."

Jamuga slid his hand out of Chinggis's grasp. "I would not do that upon you. I would not in my love for you. No one will openly oppose, but behind closed doors, your subjects will whisper that lust has overridden your fair judgment."

"It's not lust. You are my anda, and I owe you at least that much. Plus I do not care."

Jamuga continued speaking as if he had not heard him. "Ambitious men will think you weak, will convince others to their side, will try to kill you."

"I can crush them," Chinggis said firmly.

"Nevertheless, it will be bad for your reputation, bad for your glory. I...I am willing to die out of my love for you."

"It was all just a misunderstanding!" Chinggis said in a last desperate plea.

"They won't care, Temüjin," Jamuga said, and they both froze. Jamuga stammered, "I...I'm sorry-" but Chinggis cut him off with a finger to his lips.

"Call me that. You knew me by that first, you knew me when I was just Temüjin, before I became Chinggis Khan. I have not heard that name for so long, and you...you have the most right of any to call me that. Jamuga, my closest friend, call me Temüjin, for he is who I am. I am the boy who loved you, who never cared, who would never hurt you in anyway, who slept under the same blanket with you for more than a year."

"Temüjin," Jamuga breathed, and Temüjin's heart hitched. He had not heard his given name uttered in so long, especially not by that voice in that way.

"Will you grant me a wish?"

"Anything for you," Temüjin replied.

"Execute me tomorrow without my blood being spilled, please," Jamuga said firmly, and Temüjin's heart stopped for one painful moment. They had finally traced the mistake they had made, and he...he...Temüjin turned away. "Execute me out of your love for me. You said anything."

"Only if you give something in return," Temüjin answered softly.

Jamuga stared intently at his anda. "What do you want from me?"

Temüjin had to force himself to not choke on his words. "One last time." He turned his eyes to his anda and was immediately met with a pair of lips over his own.

Afterward, he lay with Jamuga over him, one hand resting upon the other's waist. Nothing had changed, and now that he had once against received a taste of what he thought he had lost forever, he didn't want to let go...but he had promised.

Jamuga knew what Temüjin was thinking, and he intertwined his left hand with Temüjin's right. "Don't dwell on it. It'll only make it worse."

"How can I not when you're lying above me, how can I not when what we just did proved that nothing had changed?" Though he did not cry, did not know how to, he felt as if he was being ripped apart at the seams.

Jamuga murmured, "Go to sleep, Temüjin. Rest your busy mind for once."

The next day, as Temüjin watched his anda being smothered before the Mongol people, his heart broke. When Jamuga gave his last breath, Temüjin dropped to his knees, eyes closed, and his people followed him. He did not feel it, and no one saw it, but one single tear trickled onto his cheek.

If only...It was all a mistake, a misunderstanding...If only I could have taken it back.

03.11.17