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In a world where Felix was faster, was quicker to reach Hyunjin and Seojun, in a world where his hand was in a white-knuckled grip around his sword, in that world Felix cut Seojun’s throat before he could speak more than I curse you.
In that world, Jisung had a stomach bug the day where his entire squadron was caught and slaughtered.
In that world, Jisung’s leg almost got cut off fully from his body. Having to relearn walking, and still limping after it healed, he got discharged from the Hyeon military.
He was no use to the army anymore.
Jisung wandered home alone, asking merchants and farmers to sit on their carriages on their way into the direction of Jisung’s own family’s farm.
When he walked onto the fields of his childhood, it was his mother who saw him first.
Gasping, she clasped her hands in front of her mouth, and ran towards him. Crushing him in a hug too tight for his still recovering body, Jisung finally felt safe again.
His betrothed, Yeoni, had died earlier that month. His mother told him with a sad face, knowing that he cared for her.
And Jisung did mourn her, did burn incense in her honor, wished for her to be at peace, but it didn’t break his heart. He hadn’t seen her in a long time, and he had never loved her. She had been his future, the way he was required to live, but all they would have gotten together was partnership.
Not romantic love.
He let his body rest for two weeks from then on, to recover fully, before starting to work at the fields again.
Jisung sighed, drying away the sweat from his forehead. The drops had already started to overcome his brows and get into his eyes, and that wasn’t a nice feeling.
One he knew intimately, though.
He’d been home for three years, now. His limp never fully went away, but it did not hurt to put pressure on his leg, so he adapted. He had a cane, but he only used it when he had bad days. He didn’t need it otherwise.
When he straightened again, he noticed a carriage and a lot of people around it a bit further up the fields.
Jisung frowned. In that part of the field were the strawberries, the seeds bought with Jisung’s pay from the military back then. And those brought the most money in. Did – did these people eat them right now?!
Oh, Jisung wasn’t gonna stand for that!
Taking his cane – it was a bad day today, and his leg ached – he resolutely made his way up to the strawberry fields. “Hey!” he yelled before he even could see what kind of people where munching their hard-grown strawberries. “Take your dirty hands off our fruits!”
He stomped the rest of the way, grinding the cane into the ground, for good measure, wiping away more sweat. The day was fucking hot.
The people slowly looked in his direction, looking baffled. What, didn’t they know basic decency? Don't steal from farmers!
Jisung narrowed his eyes. It made his sight go blurry, but it also made Jisung look like the hardened soldier he was. His father looked gentle, and his mother was a woman, and both wouldn’t be taken seriously because of that. But Jisung was well-muscled, and while he prided himself on looking cute if he wanted it, his ire made even the worst of the village’s boys shrink away and apologize.
“Don’t you know who we are?” one of the men said, arrogance in every word, as thick as the Kang accent he sported.
“Kangmin?” Jisung growled. “I don't care, unless it is custom in Kangmin to steal from farmers. Don’t you know to keep your hands away from what doesn’t belong to you?!”
The man spat a slur that Jisung only knew from his time at the front. He’d been spat on by many soldiers who used that word to describe him, and Jisung was tired of it.
He lifted the cane towards the man, narrowing his eyes even more. “Don't make me beat you,” he threatened. “For every strawberry you all ate, I demand compensation. These berries feed my family, and just because you’re not from here you don't get to make us hunger for your pride.”
“You speak quite educated for a farmer,” another man said, sounding vaguely surprised.
Jisung shrugged. “Don't know about that. But the army consisted of either farmer’s sons, like me, or arrogant gold-shitters, so you tend to notice the way they speak.”
“… gold-shitters?”
“Nobles,” Jisung shrugged. “They act like they shit gold, even their arse too rich to even look at us peasants.”
He heard another man snort, and grinned in the direction it came from. “I take you aren’t noble either?”
“Not noble-born,” the snorting one said, voice deeper than even Jisung’s father’s. “Excuse our men. They did not think before they acted. We are all hungry from our journey.”
Jisung squinted into the sun. “Yeah, travelling right now isn’t the smartest decision. I’d advise you to find some shadowed place and wait for the sun to go down before you torture yourself and your animals with the midday sun.”
“That would likely be smart. Sadly, I wouldn’t know where we could do that,” the deep-voiced one said pleasantly. Pleasantly enough to calm Jisung down a bit. Jisung’s shoulders relaxed and he sighed, turning around. “Just follow me, I’ll bring you into the village. You can rest in Hinae’s tavern.”
“Is it far?”
Jisung frowned. “Why?”
“One of our horses is very short of collapsing, we need something close to here.” The deep-voiced hesitated. “Maybe your farm? We would compensate you for that as well, naturally. And the strawberries. They are very delicious, by the way.”
“We grow them well,” Jisung nodded. “Very well, I suppose you can come. Our house is not big enough to let all of you inside, though. You would have to rest in the barn.”
“The barn?” the first man exclaimed. “Do you think we are common men, we escort our King!”
Jisung stilled.
King.
He closed his eyes, letting his face be burned by the sun. Their King. The Kangmin King? The one whose parents got killed by Hyeon soldiers? Which he was? Even if he got discharged due to injury?
Oh, he was so dead.
He called nobles gold-shitters.
Fuck.
Jisung groaned.
The deep-voiced one jumped down the carriage. “Don't worry,” he said, amusement still evident in his words. “My King is not one who is angered simply by who a person is. Actions are what count. And while you seem quite irritated, you have done nothing aggressive yet.”
“He pointed his stick at me as if it was a sword!”
A smack. “That’s a cane, you idiot. And do you think you could not parry a cane with your own sword?”
Jisung, listening in, tilted his head to the side. Maybe the soldier could. Maybe not. Jisung had always been a good fighter, the reason why he hadn’t been discharged the moment he got injured, and only when it became clear his limp would not cease.
“Nothing aggressive yet,” the deep-voiced man reiterated. “We would still be honored if you would allow us to rest in your farm until the sun goes down.”
Jisung sighed. Well. He couldn’t exactly say no, right? “Follow me,” he said, waving them behind him. He led them by the edges of the fields, not wanting to ruin the crop by letting the carriage drive over it. “By the way,” he said, because this couldn’t get worse, “Your accent is quite good.”
“Thank you!” the deep-voiced man said cheerily. “I’m Lee Felix.” He jumped up to Jisung to bow at him in greeting. His face did not match with the deepness of his voice, but his bright manner did.
“Jisung,” said Jisung. “Han Jisung.”
“And you're a farmer? Do you like it? I never grew plants myself, is it fun?”
“It is rewarding,” Jisung answered. “Good crops give us enough money to get through the winter without hungering, and the strawberries let us get new clothes and such.”
“Did you ever want to be anything else? Own a tavern, or make wine?”
“Never,” Jisung said. “I couldn’t, either. My parents rely on me, I am their only child.”
“Mhm. But you never dreamed of anything else?”
Jisung chuckled. “Not as work, no. But I like to sing, and dance. I am quite good at it, I think.”
“You have to show me later today! If you want, of course,” Felix tacked on. “I like singing too!”
Jisung smiled. “As what do you serve your king, anyways?”
“As a whore.”
Jisung’s eyes narrowed again. He had excellent hearing, and while that muttering had been quiet, it hadn’t been quiet enough to let Jisung overhear it.
Felix seemed not to hear it, though. “I am the Royal Healer,” he said.
Jisung remembered the war, and all the injuries he’d seen. “Strong stomach,” he complimented Felix.
Felix’s smile dimmed. “Yeah,” he said. “Definitely. You don’t like healing?”
“Not something I would like to work as, no,” Jisung shook his head. “I’ve seen my leg be almost completely separated from by body, bone and tendons and all, and it kind of ruined any interest in human anatomy.”
Felix winced. “Understandable. Is that why you limp?”
Jisung nodded. “It is a miraculous recovery, but not enough to still fight in war. I got discharged early.”
“I assume you didn’t like fighting either?”
Jisung hummed. “I liked fighting. But not fighting to death. I liked the way my body moved when I was a soldier, liked my strength and all that. But I did not like having to kill.”
“Sure, a Hyeon soldier that doesn’t like killing.”
“You know,” Jisung commented, face in the direction of the farm. “If you want to say something, say it loudly. If you are not confident enough for that, I advise you to not say it at all.”
He felt the man flinch.
“I have excellent hearing,” Jisung said, as an explanation. “And I dislike malicious gossip.”
“It’s not gossip if it’s true!”
Jisung cocked his head to the side. His mother always told him he should stop being such a shit-stirrer, but not even becoming an adult had mellowed it. “So your royal healer is a prostitute, I presume?”
“You dare-”
There were spears directed at Jisung. Felix looked hurt. Jisung didn’t even jerk. “You did say he was working as a whore.”
Felix turned his head to the man who had said that. But before he could even say anything, the King said, “You are very well aware that Felix is my Consort in anything but name. To call him a whore is to call me a whore-house enjoyer. And that is insult to your king. Jikyung, please make sure he will follow us, but in chains.”
Jisung raised his brows in surprise. He hadn’t thought the King would react like that.
Wait – Felix was the Royal Consort. Jisung stared at him in confusion. “Isn’t Kangmin’s unofficial consort’s name Hwang Hyunjin?”
“We love more than one person. It is a circle. Hyunjin does most of the Consort work, but I speak better Hyeon. So I’m here instead of him.”
“Ah.” Jisung lead the men towards their little farm, showed them the barn they would sleep in. While he did so, his mother walked towards them. Her face was scrunched up, which meant that it was a bad day.
Jisung walked away from the royal entourage. “Mom,” he said softly. “You know Old Nayoon said you should rest when your head hurts.”
“I know, I know,” his mother waved his worry away. “I will. It’s just … I started pulling out all the weed when it started. Can you continue?” She gave him her basket, filled with different weeds, blue teardrops being the one that Jisung could see the most. “By the way, did you take in wanderers again? Will they at least pay this time?”
Jisung scratched his neck. “Not quite wanderers,” he murmured. “But close. They’re from Kangmin.”
His mother tried opening her eyes more, tried to get a look at the royal people and their guards, but the sun hurt her head too much and she gave up with a wince and a sigh. “Do they speak Hyeon?”
“Yes, Madam,” Felix said, coming closer. “My name is Lee Felix. Your son was so kind to offer us your barn to rest. I hope that is alright with you? We will pay, of course.”
“Madam,” Jisung’s mother snorted. “You a scholar or what? You speak like a noble. And of course it is alright. The barn isn’t used a lot for a few months to come at least. Ten copper coins for a night will be fine.”
“Mom!” Jisung hissed, embarrassed. “Are you trying to extort them?”
“Someone who speaks like that has more money to spare,” Jisung’s mother said, unashamed. “And we don’t. I’ll cook them dinner, it’ll be worth it.”
“I’m sorry,” Felix grimaced, searching through his coin purse. “I only have silver coins? Would a silver coin also be alright?”
Jisung turned to him, staring, mouth agape.
A silver coin would be enough to feed them a full month. Easily.
Jisung’s mother frowned even more. “Fuck scholar, that’s a full-blown gold-shitter,” she murmured, her thick southern dialect concealing her words to anyone who wasn’t proficient in the language, or only learned the standard version. The high-pitched laughter Felix gave revealed he understood her nonetheless. Jisung’s mother flushed. “For a silver coin I’ll let my husband cook for you,” she told them, pushing through her embarrassment. “He usually doesn’t cook, since he’s stronger and we need strength on the fields more than tasty dinner, but with a silver coin …”
Jisung smiled, taking the silver coin from Felix and putting it into his mother’s hand. “Go rest,” he told her firmly. “I’ll make sure they’re comfortable, and I’ll tell dad to go cook. After that, I’ll take care of the weed. Now, go. Shoo! Use my room, it's darker than yours right now.”
“Shoo, he says,” his mother muttered. “What a rude boy I raised, says shoo to his mother.” She patted his cheek, and walked towards their little house. Jisung watched her go, worry lines digging into his forehead. She played it down, always, but she was in heavy pain every time this happened.
“Are these blue teardrops?” Felix asked, staring blatantly into Jisung’s basket.
Jisung blinked, humming in agreement. “They grow uncontrollably. I’ll give part of it to Old Nayoon, but the rest will probably get cut up and used as compost. Why?”
“If I help with the weed, can I take home whatever I ripped out?”
Jisung frowned at him, confused. “I mean, yeah, sure, but why would you want to? It's a common plant. And nobles usually don't really ask for heavy work.”
“It’s not a common plant in Kangmin,” the King, Minho, said, coming closer. “It's pretty rare, actually. It dies off pretty quickly if we plant it, doesn’t sustain itself.”
“I barely have any anymore. I’ll take most of it, if you don't mind. How much do you want to keep?”
Jisung looked baffled. “Uhh … this basket is enough for Old Nayoon? You can take the rest, if you want to?”
“Really?!” Felix looked very excited.
“… sure?” Jisung took a step back, supported by his cane. Then he winced, having put too much weight on his aching leg.
Felix’s focus immediately shifted. “Were your healers good?”
Jisung, realizing what Felix meant, huffed in amusement. “Old Nayoon is a retired midwife, she knows what to do when it acts up. In the army … I was good. Really good. They did not want to be robbed of my strength and skill. They patched me up with the best healers they had.”
“Maybe let Felix look over it, still,” King Minho said, faint creases in his forehead. “He’ll worry if he can’t, and a military healer is different from healers trained in peace.”
True.
“Sure,” Jisung nodded. “Let me show you the barn first, though.” He limped into the barn, showing them where they could best sleep, and warned them about sleeping too close to the back. “A few birds have made their nest there, and they are kinda territorial. So if you don't want to get shit on or pricked, stay in the front.”
“Do you just not go there?” Felix asked, curious. “If they’re so territorial?”
Jisung looked at him, bewildered. “No? We still go there? We need the space? Wounds heal and bird shit is annoying, but doesn’t kill you, so why would we leave the last third of the barn to be unoccupied?”
“I corrupted you, love,” King Minho teased. “You can’t connect with the common folk anymore. You're too noble now.”
“To be fair, we’re poor as dirt,” Jisung shrugged. “We have land, but the taxes are really high, so sometimes it’s more work than it gives back, but … yeah. Unless you were poor as dirt, I doubt you would have understood our experiences anyway.”
Felix’s smile dimmed slightly, but came back full force not even a second later. “Not really poor, but pretty self-sufficient. I hunted a lot.”
“Yeah,” Jisung scrunched his nose. “It’s forbidden here. I still do it, when times are dire, but they want to keep all the pretty animals for when the nobility wants to hunt. As if I want to eat fox anyway! It doesn’t taste well. Bear on the other hand is a lot in just one kill, feeds us a long time and also gives enough fur to make multiple blankets from it! And the teeth can be carved into makeshift knives for when you’re travelling and don't want to lose the metal knives you do have.”
“It's forbidden?” King Minho asked. “Curious. I do that, with certain animals, but not a full hunting ban.”
Jisung sighed. “We hunted a lot of wolves, in the long winter seven years ago, so the hunting ban came to make sure there were still wolves to hunt for gold-shi – nobles, sorry. And they never took it down.” He shrugged. “We make do. But I really have to leave now, or you won't have dinner made by dad.” He excused himself and limped outside again, steering to the fields again. “Dad!” he called loudly. “Dad!”
His father turned around, frowning. “What? Did something happen? Is your mother alright?”
“Mom is resting,” Jisung waved his worry away. “But we got noble visitors that’ll sleep in our barn, and they paid a lot for the night, so mom said that you’ll cook dinner. Since yours is better than hers.”
“What is a lot?” Jisung’s father asked, skeptical.
“A full silver coin.”
Jisung’s father blinked. “Are you shitting me?”
“No. Full silver coin. Real, and all that.” Probably. Jisung hadn't bitten on it, seemed rude in front of nobles.
“Well, fuck. The field can wait a day for a silver coin.” He cast Jisung an assessing look. “Yeah, it’ll wait. Today’s a bad day?”
Jisung shrugged it off. “Not the worst I had. But I’m glad for the cane, yeah.”
“Then use it properly, son,” Jisung’s father sighed, correcting Jisung’s grip on the wood. It didn’t feel nice, the cane being roughly made and not proper, not like scholars and such could afford. Jisung had done it himself, being fed up of being stuck in the house because his leg had a bad day.
They walked back together, Jisung relaxing in the close proximity to his father. They had always been close, and while his mother could make him laugh, his father’s presence had been enough to make him fall asleep for many years. He just felt so gentle and calm.
Jisung watched his father enter the house to start cooking, and sat down on the ground, finally letting his leg have a break. He heard steps, but didn’t look up until a shadow fell down on him. “Sorry,” one of the guards said. Was his name Jikyung? “Where do we get water from?”
“The well.” They had their own well, being dug by Jisung’s great-grandfather, when they had a bit more money, and a lot more sons on the battlefield to help. Jisung pointed to it. “Just use it, it works fine.”
Jikyung lingered awkwardly. “Uhm … how …”
Jisung needed a moment to realize why Jikyung wasn’t already walking away. “You’ve – you’ve never gotten water from a well?” He was a bit scandalized, he had to admit. Never?
“My mom did it, when I was younger, and when I was older, I was already a guard,” Jikyung said muffled. “And guards get their water delivered. We also have juices. And wine. We don't – we have a well, in the courtyard, but the servants use it.”
Jisung sighed. Loudly. Judgingly. “Help me up,” he demanded, being too exhausted to be all submissive towards the clearly richer man with the clearly higher status.
Jikyung pulled him up. “Sorry. Really. You seem really tired, and … yeah. Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Jisung waved it away. “You paid a whole silver coin, I can rest for a day or two when you’re gone again.”
“Is … is a silver coin really worth that much, for you?” Jikyung looked fascinated. “It’s barely enough to cover the cost of my robes, back home.”
Jisung side-eyed him as they walked slowly towards the well. “You live in the capital, yeah?”
Jikyung nodded. He kind of looked like an overeager pup. Adorable.
“Everything in capitals is more expensive,” Jisung told him. “And you live in Kangmin, too. Kangmin is richer than Hyeon, which means that you need five copper coins to buy a good knife in Hyeon, but ten in Kangmin.”
“Oh … makes sense. Mum never talked about her childhood in Hyeon, not really, not beyond family stories, so I don't really know how this works? It’s been interesting, being at my king’s side and learning!”
“Is that why your Hyeon is so good? Your mother is from here?”
“Well. Not here, obviously. She’s from the capital in Hyeon. But yeah, from Hyeon. Oh! I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Kim Sanyeon. Nice to meet you!”
Ah.
Not Jikyung, Sanyeon.
Jisung was fairly sure he heard one of the guards be addressed as Jikyung, though.
“Jisung,” Jisung said. “Nice to meet you too.” He rested his full weight for a moment on the side of the well, and then instructed Sanyeon on how to get up water. Sanyeon filled multiple leather bags with the well water, listening and nodding to each of Jisung’s explanations.
When all of the bags were filled, Sanyeon turned to the barn again. Then he sheepishly looked at Jisung. “I’m really sorry, but could you come back with me? You can rest a bit in the barn, but Lord Lee is really insufferable right now, all worried about your leg, and I’d like him to calm down a bit.”
“Lord Lee is …”
“Lee Felix. The healer-consort,” Sanyeon explained, and then eyed Jisung’s cane. “You can’t afford a better one?”
“Can’t afford any,” Jisung snorted. “I made this one myself.”
“Oh.” Sanyeon was clearly judging, but Jisung didn’t care. He hadn’t learned to be a carpenter or such, just a farmer and a soldier. Everything else, he was below average in. Not enough time to hone skills, he was always needed somewhere, and when he wasn’t, pain occupied his mind.
Jisung licked his dry lips. “If you give me a bit of the water, I’ll come with you.”
“Sure! I know how to fill them up now, so it’ll be fine!” Sanyeon would have carried Jisung to the barn, he suspected, if his arms wouldn’t be filled by the bags.
As it was, they were rather slow in approaching it. But when Jisung was barely inside, he was already face-to-face with Lee Felix, who looked really worried.
Being instructed to sit down, Jisung silently pulled up his pant leg and watched curiously as Felix knelt in front of him to see better, poking at some places, frowning at others. After some time, Felix looked up. “Your healers were good, but – clearly battlefield healers. You needed instruction on how to use your leg again, and because you didn’t, it got all tight and grew wrong in some places. It’s not too bad, with extensive care you can still fix it.”
Extensive. Extensive sounded like a lot of time. Jisung asked.
“Well, yeah. Everyday an hour or two, it does take some work in your case.”
Jisung pulled the pants down again. He smiled. “Thank you, but I will have to decline. We need me on the farm, and I can walk just fine.”
“You’re limping a lot.”
“It's a bad day.”
“How many bad days in a week do you have?”
Jisung scowled. “Look, I don't have the time for extensive care. It would be great to be able to use my leg again, but that’s wishful thinking, I’m lucky I can walk at all.”
Sanyeon winced over Felix’s shoulder.
Felix’s expression got cloudy. “Do you think you can work on it in a year?”
Jisung shook his head. “Maybe, if I find a girl to settle down with, and she has a lot of sons, I can get excused from farm work when they’re old enough, but that will take fifteen years or so, in the best case.”
Felix swore in Kang.
Jisung tensed a bit, only knowing these sounds in connection with swords barreling down on his head, but it had been enough time that he didn’t do anything like instinctively protecting himself.
Felix turned to Minho, pulling him into a fast-paced discussion. Lost, Jisung looked at Sanyeon for help. Sanyeon just shrugged, like, sorry, can’t betray their trust.
Which was fair, they were king and consort, but Jisung still felt a bit unsettled.
“Jisung,” Felix said finally. “Would you agree to come to Kangmin so I can work on your leg if we give your parents a silver coin a month for all the work you can’t do?”
Jisung’s jaw fell down, mouth agape. “Are you shitting me?” he asked, blunt commoner-tongue overtaking the pretty words he had tried to use around the nobles. “Why would you do that?!”
“Felix doesn’t like seeing people in pain,” King Minho answered for Felix. “And he’s – twitchy about leaving people in bad situations they can’t get out of alone.”
“I – but – I can’t just stay in the capital on your coin for – that’s – you don't get anything in return!”
“You could teach my consorts Hyeon?” King Minho offered. “You would have to learn Kangmin, of course, but I would really like for them to be at least conversational in Hyeon, so that I can take more of them to the diplomatic travels to Hyeon.”
Jisung blinked at him. “That’s – I mean – of course I can – are you sure?”
“If we weren’t sure, we wouldn’t have offered,” Felix told him earnestly. “So? What do you say?”
Jisung let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Sure?” He felt himself drop into his mother’s thick dialect. “This is insane,” he muttered. “A noble wants to help with the weed, and wants me to get healed properly. This is insane.”
“Maybe,” Felix shrugged. “But we’ve never really given a damn about being normal.”