Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hak doesn’t remember his parents at all – or so he says. But even if he does, he has said nothing about them, so no one bothers to pry. Tae-yeon is too young, a mere child, and while he may remember his parents right now, it is a given that as he grows, he too will forget them, memories replaced by new ones he’s creating with his new family.

Jin-ah remembers the cold, the ache in her bones, the blood on her feet, and she remembers the sobs of a woman who most likely was her mother, pleading over and over again for her life.

That is her earliest memory. The next time she opens her eyes, it is to a fierce, grizzled old man like a bear silvered with age peering down at her. She remembers staring back and thinking that his arms are very gentle.

Jin-ah doesn’t know her real name. As with Hak, Mundok was the one who gave her this name that she now calls her own. Sometimes when she passes by a reflective surface, she will pause and stare at herself–somber gray eyes, thin mouth with its mournful tilt, pale skin like rice paper–and rack her mind for any hint of her original name. But there is nothing but a gaping, empty space where her memories should be, and without fail she shakes away the lingering grips of her lost past so she can attend to her duties.

She has little time for idleness. She is Son Jin-ah, granddaughter of the Wind Tribe General, and there is much to be done around the mansion.

Jin-ah is with a few other girls, mending their clansmen’s torn clothes (really, there’s a limit to how careless they can be), when they hear the commotion.

Han-dae bursts in, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, and practically teleports to her side. Bewildered, she allows herself to be tugged to her feet and out of the room with one last glance back at the other girls, who trail behind them in blatant curiosity. Jin-ah turns back to the golden-haired boy before her and tugs experimentally at her wrist. Han-dae winks, but doesn’t let go.

She sighs, exasperated. “Han-dae, what are you doing?”

“It’s a surprise,” he says cheekily, except it’s not anymore, because there are people running around shouting about the return of Lord Hak, he’s back, oh he’s gotten so handsome, and he’s brought a girl with him–

Jin-ah fixes her companion with a flat look.

“… Hak is back?”

“I gathered,” she says wryly. She jerks out of his loose hold and picks up her skirts, running towards the main house. Her heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest in excitement, and with every step she feels lighter, like the wind is lifting her up and pushing her forward.

Jin-ah leaps over the stairs and hurtles up to the house, hair streaming behind her like a pale golden banner. She doesn’t stop running, dodging startled servants and sharply rounding corners, until she spots Tae-woo lounging against the wall and their eyes meet.

“Jin-ah–!” Tae-woo calls, but she knows this is the right place and sure enough, just as she reaches forward for the doors, they slide open and a tall, broad-shouldered figure emerges.
She barrels into him, laughing with abandon. Strong arms circle her, lift her up into a tight embrace, and she closes her eyes. Breathes.

Her brother is home.

Chapter Text

Yona’s return to consciousness is a slow, gradual thing. She lies still for a few seconds, disorientated, staring up at the high ceiling. Awareness trickles back to her in slow increments: the spatial room, the blankets laid over her, the new clothes she’s wearing, the smell of something nice….

She draws herself up into a sitting position, vaguely concerned at how taxing she finds such a simple action. Blinking into space, she slowly remembers the pleasant smell nearby and looks to the side to see a tray of food lying on the floor. When she reaches for the food, finally registering the gnawing hunger in her stomach, she feels as though she is still halfway asleep, movements sluggish and hazy in her mind’s eye.

The spoon enters her mouth and she starts. It’s… warm. Good. It brings to mind memories of more pleasant times, which in itself remind her of recent horrors, and the storm of emotion that rolls over her brings tears to her eyes.

Father….

The door slides open. “Why are you crying?”

Yona looks up to see a small boy approaching, nervously asking if the food was bad. She is distantly aware of saying something, and then the boy is in her lap, wiping away her tears with a careful tenderness that makes her heart seize with something warm and painful.

He introduces himself as Tae-yeon, Hak’s younger brother, and then all of a sudden there are two boys her age slamming open the doors and making a ruckus, and then comes Hak to bully them into submission, and then, and then….

When things have settled somewhat, Hak whispering to her of her new alias as Rina the trainee lady-in-waiting, the doors slide open once more and a girl no older than herself steps in. The girl delicately glides past the boys from before and comes to a stop next to Hak.

“She’s still weak,” the girl admonishes. Her hair, lighter than Tae-yeon’s and shining like pale sunlight, flows over her shoulders where the tips brush against the tops of her breasts. She’s very pretty, if a bit distant, and her gray eyes sweep over Yona critically. “She should be resting, not dealing with you heathens so soon.”

“Hey!” The boys protest in unison. They only grin widely and unrepentantly when the blonde turns her head and scowls at them. Still close to her side, Hak heaves a sigh and rubs the back of his head, looking fondly exasperated.

The girl kneels by Yona’s other side and directs a small but gentle smile at the bedridden girl. “My name is Jin-ah. I am Hak’s younger sister,” she introduces herself. Her eyes are wide and serious, but Yona thinks they look kind. “You should finish eating, Rina. You’re pretty malnourished already, you need to regain your strength.”

“It’s really good!” Tae-yeon jumps in, snuggling up to his older sister. Jin-ah calmly tickles his neck, and he squirms away with a bright giggle that lifts the corners of Yona’s lips. “Auntie made it, and Auntie is the best cook in all of Wind Tribe.”

The two boys from before chorus an agreement, and as they engage her in conversation and delight in poking fun at an increasingly unimpressed Hak, Yona feels the shadows and its terrors recede ever so slightly from her heart. There is something warm and genuine about the people of the Wind Tribe, she thinks, and watching the siblings--and Tae-woo and Han-dae, as they introduce themselves--bickering playfully makes her wonder wistfully what her life would have been like with a brother or sister of her own.

These are the kinds of people Hak grew up with, she thinks with a start. Hak is grinding his knuckles into Han-dae’s temple, making the younger boy splutter with laughter, and Tae-woo is chasing a shrieking Tae-yeon around the room while a sighing Jin-ah reaches out to smack Tae-woo as he passes her.

Yona settles back, slowly finishing her meal, as the room descends into chaos around her. She doesn’t realize the smile that blooms across her wan face, but everyone else sees it and inwardly heaves a sigh of relief.

(A heartbeat later the doors are thrown open by an irritated older woman who yells at them for disturbing the guest and chases them out with a broom. Yona has to smother her laughter when the tiny but stern woman smacks it over Hak’s bottom because he’s “not moving quickly enough.”)

From that moment on Yona sees far more of Jin-ah than she does Hak. Her guard is busy with his own duties as General, his sister helpfully informs her, but despite this they always run into Hak at least once or twice a day. Yona’s not sure if Jin-ah’s leading her to him because she read the anxiety that seizes her when she’s apart from him for a long time, or if Hak is escaping his duties and using her as an excuse.

(Both. It’s both.)

Now Yona wanders the grounds alone, not sure of what to do; Jin-ah has been called away by some other clansmen who need her assistance with something or another, and Hak is...not available. So when the motherly servant who’d chased the Son siblings out with a broom bumps into her, Yona is secretly glad.

Then she gets wrangled into helping with the laundry and she is at a loss, because she has never done chores in her entire life, how does she go about explaining that to this kind woman?

Then Hak is there, teasing her but helping at the same time, and Yona tentatively inquires after his siblings. She’s never known about his family before, and now she wonders why that is, when Hak knows everything about her.

(She knows why, and it makes her feel hollow and bitter inside. Soo-won. )

All three of the siblings, he explains, are orphans, adopted by Mundok at one point or another. Hak was the first, of course, and then it was Tae-yeon, and then Jin-ah.

“Unlike me, Tae-yeon has a weak body,” Hak says, looking straight ahead. “So everyone takes special care of him. He exhausted himself a bit too much yesterday.”

Yona nods slowly, thinking of the little boy’s radiant smile and sweet personality. He’s like a little sun, glowing and warming everyone with his personality. In contrast, Jin-ah is…. “Your sister seems very different from you.”

Hak’s eyes flash down to her and away. “Yeah. Jin-ah’s quiet. The Old Man says it’s because she has some bad memories, from when he first found her.”

“She’s very kind,” Yona says softly. And it’s the truth: Jin-ah is more reserved than either of her brothers, but her hands are still gentle and her voice is always soft with compassion. There is simply a sadness that lingers around her at times, when she thinks no one is looking, and some part of Yona aches at that quiet grief, instinctively feeling that it is a pain similar to her own.

Hak softens minutely. “She’s a good kid.”

And then they are at the river, only there is no river, not anymore.

Jin-ah thinks she’s misheard, at first. The river? The source of their lives, in essence? How can it be gone?

She hurries to the small gathering outside and makes her way to the front, where Hak is furiously scribbling calculations in the dirt. The other tribesmen are panicking, as well they should: the river is critical to their continued survival, and Jin-ah feels sick at the mere implications of what a dried up river will mean for them.

A warm body brushes against her own and she glances up. Tae-woo stands by her side, arms crossed and fixed on their young General as if to say, Look. There is your brother, he will resolve this mess.

Jin-ah’s shoulders lose some of the tension she didn’t even realize has gathered. It’s a bit odd, to think about how Tae-woo has matured into such a dependable source of strength, but it’s also comforting. She rests her weight on her right foot so she leans lightly against his side, a silent thank you and reassurance in one, because she’s not the only one who’s worried.

Tae-woo looks down at her, but their attentions are stolen by the cry that alerts them to Mundok’s return. He swings himself off his horse with ease belying his years, and then he… stops.

Then Rina and Mundok are running toward each other, embracing tightly, and Jin-ah is confused but not, because… oh.

Oh .

The pieces fall together in her mind, incomplete but beginning to form a clearer picture that she does not like at all . Hak spent the last three years at the castle, guarding the princess. The princess is rumored to boast brilliant hair like fire, which was previously dismissed as a mere rumor but clearly it isn’t, not with Rina standing just a few paces away. Grandfather Mundok is tearfully embracing Rina as though he knows her and cares deeply for her, which doesn’t make sense if Rina is a mere trainee court lady but makes perfect sense if one is to believe that Rina is… that Rina is….

A chill runs down her spine. There are more pieces, more clues that she can’t fit together just yet for lack of more information, but--the Five Tribes Council. Hak’s abrupt return, his surprise and ignorance regarding the Council meeting. The redheaded young woman he brings with him, a woman he is fiercely protective of. A young woman with red hair who’s in a clear state of shock, a deep, penetrating sorrow in her eyes.

Jin-ah blindly reaches out and her fingers sink like claws into Tae-woo’s sleeve. He frowns down at her, concerned, but she can’t bring herself to answer his silent inquiries. He’s perceptive enough to realize Rina’s true identity, she knows, but she doesn’t know if he’s recognized the dead look in the princess’s eyes just yet.

Another shout goes up and Han-dae, bloodied and bruised, greets them with a mere shadow of his usual cheekiness. He, too, is a bearer of bad news: the Fire Tribe has blocked their river, and are threatening anyone who attempts to challenge them.

Jin-ah’s grip tightens. If the Fire Tribe is behind this, then….

Mundok’s and Hak’s uncharacteristic refusal to act confirms her suspicions. The Fire Tribe is too powerful to touch at the moment, because they are not acting independently.

They are acting with the support of the crown.

Tae-woo gently catches her hand as it falls from his sleeve and guides her away from the gathered tribesmen. They help Han-dae stagger to his feet and lead him to the medical wing, all three of them dead silent after the blond’s initial attempts at humor fall flat.

Jin-ah’s mind is blank, there is a ringing in her ears, and something heavy and oppressive crawls up her throat and threatens to suffocate her.

The river. Grandfather. Hak. The princess. The Fire Tribe. The crown.

For once in her life, she wants to be wrong.

The three of them are seated in the corner of the healing house, huddled away from the rest of its inhabitants. Jin-ah has assumed nurse duties and is binding Han-dae’s injuries with sure and steady hands, her mind far away and racing at the speed of light.

Tae-woo and Han-dae exchange a look. In silent agreement, Han-dae places a hand over Jin-ah’s and Tae-woo moves beside him so they can face her directly, in a clear demand for answers.

Jin-ah knows what they want. The three of them have been as thick as thieves ever since Mundok brought her into the tribe and raised her as his own. There might have been a rough patch or two as Jin-ah stopped being so startled by the much louder and rowdier boys, but the years spent together have cemented a tight bond of friendship and trust between the three of them. There is no way she can’t read their unvoiced request for explanations, but she doesn’t want to say it.

(Saying it out loud makes it real.)

But then Tae-woo puts a hand on her other arm and Han-dae gives her an encouraging grin and she can’t not .

“The king is dead,” she tells them in hushed tones. “Rina is Princess Yona, and she and Hak are on the run. The Fire Tribe is in league with whoever’s behind the coup--most likely her highness’s cousin, Lord Soo-won--and they know she’s here. Or, if they don’t, damming the river is a threat.”

Tae-woo’s voice is hard. “A threat? To who?”

“To Grandfather.” She motions for them to shush themselves and leans in closer, eyes large and grave. “Do you remember the Five Tribes Council? A unanimous vote of agreement is necessary for a new monarch to ascend the throne. Grandfather knows Hak, he knows the princess, he’s obviously aware something is amiss.”

“So he refused to support Soo-won’s bid for the throne,” Han-dae concludes with a sharp intake of breath. He scrubs his hands down his face, stunned and bewildered. “And because they need his agreement, they’re putting pressure on the Wind Tribe.”

“Well, Elder Mundok can’t agree,” Tae-woo hisses. His eyes burn like coals in the darkness. “How dare they? Regicide? A coup? Threatening our people to crown a murderer and a liar as a king--”

“Don’t shout it so everyone will hear,” Jin-ah cautions sharply. “We can’t be hasty. The Wind Tribe is in a precarious position here, we can’t afford to be brash and declare war on the Sky and Fire Tribes.” At their blank expressions, she purses her lips. “Who do you think is going to be blamed for King Il’s death?”

“ No.” Tae-woo’s hands are white-knuckled and shaking with the force of his rage. “Lord Hak? He would never --!”

“It’s not a matter of Hak’s character, Tae-woo. It’s a matter of convenience.” Jin-ah sighs and rubs at her forehead, willing the headache to disappear. “The king has been assassinated and the princess is missing, last seen in the company of my brother. The actual murderer is trying to become king. Who makes a nice and ready scapegoat in this scenario?”

Han-dae’s face is tight with pain and anger. “So what do we do?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head as Tae-woo opens his mouth with a dark look. “We have to wait for Hak and Grandfather to decide on a course of action. The Wind Tribe is paramount: we won’t survive a war with both the Sky and Fire Tribes.”

Silence greets her words. The boys know she’s right, they’ve known it even before she put it into words, but the injustice still burns.

Jin-ah is not a violent person. Her brother is known across the kingdom for his fearsome battle prowess, and it’s hardly a secret that he delights in fighting. But Jin-ah is not Hak, and her choice of weapon is information and sound reasoning.

But her baby brother is wheezing in obvious pain, curling into himself in a frantic Rina’s arms, and Jin-ah sees red . She is seized with a burning desire to grab a weapon and charge into the Fire Tribe troops stationed at the river, to attack them recklessly and brutally, because how dare they?

There are injured merchants being tended to at the healing house as they speak, and her delicate little brother might die from one of his episodes because those Fire bastards saw fit to destroy his medicine.

Jin-ah shocks herself back to normal, frightened by the depths of her own fury. She is not Hak, she takes pride in keeping a cool head, but this… this is bloodlust. She wants to destroy--

“Calm down, you bunch of idiots,” Han-dae says, placing a reassuring hand on Rina’s head. He smiles brightly, broadly, and then says more seriously, “We need to think about what’s important. Right now, our priority is getting Tae-yeon’s medicine.”

The injured idiot volunteers himself to retrieve the medicine from an herbal doctor to the east, because he’s the fastest on horseback (just plain fastest, actually). Tae-woo looks troubled by the thought of his best friend leaving alone when a merchant caravan has just been attacked, but he sees the reasoning in Han-dae’s choice and reluctantly nods.

Jin-ah presses her lips together into a thin white line. She’s needed in the healing house, she knows, where she can make the most difference, and tagging along will only slow Han-dae down. Frustrated, she blows out a heavy breath and turns on her heel, heading outside. They are short-staffed on proficient healers, and the nurses need every help they can get.

Luckily, Jin-ah is more than well-versed in treating injuries of varying severity, thanks to a few reckless idiots she’s friends with.