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Chapter Text

The first time Beomgyu wanted more was when he was a child, not much older than a toddler, and hungry enough to ask his parents for another serving of rice that did not exist in their stipend. Back then, he had silently accepted their tolerance of the situation, but going to sleep with a hungry stomach wasn’t something he could tolerate. And as he and his brother grew older, the other boy bloomed into the image of their parents while Beomgyu remained childishly infatuated with the idea of having more. Always scavenging to find things to sell at the market, Beomgyu believed himself to be the one responsible for his brother’s still-thick cheeks. That was a new level of greed, wasn't it? He wanted to have an overabundance, not only for himself, but for his brother as well.

The air was always warm but interspersed with a cool ocean breeze that had been recognizable to him since the first time he came to fish with his father. Now, alone, the wind pushed harder; it strewed his black hairstrands apart and punishingly etched a pink tint onto his full cheeks. Midday had been overtaken by clouds, looming dark and heavy in the gray sky. They signaled a more lucrative trip tomorrow, but Beomgyu was still confined by the ache in his stomach and pockets. One fish was enough to feed him tonight, but two would be enough to feed him at the market. If only he could lie on his stomach and catch a fish by hand as he had heard in the stories of in a nearby land. 

Beomgyu ran his fingers along the branch-edge of his sampan boat before dipping them down into the depths below and watching tiny ripples course throughout the surface and become engulfed by waves. The waters were still warm from the previous summer, even when his sensitive skin was being attacked by the fall wind, but such a slight positivity couldn’t outweigh their murkiness. Like this, he would never be able to see any fish, much less catch one. But the ocean could only ever be as clear as the skies above; it was cursed to only ever reflect what it was given.  

Slowly, Beomgyu pulled his hand from the waves, careful to hold it outside the wooden sampan for a bit longer so he didn’t drip saltwater over his own precious clothing. In his mind, he could imagine himself slipping into the depths as smoothly and quietly as a snake, where he could hibernate until the next spring came and cherry blossoms painted his humble home in a natural bouquet of pink.

Returning to his home, north of the beach, required an hour of wet soles in the soggy dirt path through his neighbors’ rice paddies. At least they had special shoes to keep themselves dry, Beomgyu didn’t. Still, he had been continuing this routine every single day for years, to the point that breaking such a ritual would feel wrong. Take care of the house in the morning, sit on the water and catch as many fish as possible during the day, take some to the market and bring the rest home in the evening. Ever since the last attempted barbarian invasion of seven years past, this was the routine that kept him and his brother alive. 

Finally coming to the end of the rice paddies, Beomgyu lifted one leg and reached down to wipe as much of the moisture off as possible before pushing his brown pant leg back down and stepping back onto the newly dry dirt. He did the same with his other foot before continuing on his way home. 

As the stilted house came into view, so did the paper parasols his hyung had been meticulously painting. The colors of red, gold, and beige seemed to be muted by the overcast sky, though Beomgyu knew they would be beautiful on a purposeful day. 

Soobin’s fingers were careful, but the quick lines he drew made intricate patterns seem easy in a way that Beomgyu could never recreate. If only his hyung could do the same with clothing, something useful to them, and not the royalty with time to loiter outside...maybe then they could emulate that same opulence with patterns of gold dragon scales and flower petals that held motion instead of the stagnancy of peasant life. 

Even as his dongsaeng approached, Soobin did not look up. He was in the middle of finishing the curved edge of a soaked leaf on his water lily painting. Still, he spoke, free hand loosely clasping the top of his crisp white hanbok. “You’ve dirtied your baji.”

Beomgyu looked down at his pants, seeing the brown murkiness of mud at the very cuff. He had forgotten to tie it back around his ankle after exiting the rice paddy. 

He looked back up at his hyung and nervously smiled. “Guess what I got!” He swiftly changed the subject and held up the two fishes he had been carrying throughout his journey. Each hung from a line hooked in their upper lips and then wrapped around his hand. They were heavy enough for the lines to dig uncomfortably into his skin and surely leave red marks once he removed them, but it was worth it to see his hyung light up. 

Soobin’s brush lingered over the paper panel in front of his fingertips, but with distracted eyes, he didn’t touch. A gentle smile crossed his face and he ushered the boy over with his free hand. Once Beomgyu stood close enough, Soobin reached out and patted his head. “Good job, Beomgyu. Now go change your baji. I’ll clean the ones you’ve soiled.”

Beomgyu made a noise of agreeance and then looked up at the sky when a drop of cold water hit his nose. With every passing moment it was becoming darker, though it couldn’t have been any later than the early evening. “Will you take your parasols in?” The slight movement of Soobin’s nodding head made Beomgyu look back down. “Alright. I’ll help you. Just give me a few minutes.”

With that, Beomgyu scampered up the wooden ladder and into their home. 

Beomgyu sat atop his sampan once again. His straw hat mostly shielded him from the autumn wind, but he dreaded the coming winter months. If he were lucky, the storms would have brought an abundance of fish to catch. If he caught many fish in the next few days, he could potentially sell enough to stay inside for the winter. How nice would it be to hibernate until spring like a freshly born bear cub?

Just his luck, the pole tugged and he caught a fish easily. It had been a few minutes since entering the water, so he could only imagine how many more would come afterwards. 

Quiet and still, he watched the water closely. Even the sound of his breath was empty without resonance. If he looked hard enough, there seemed to be movement underwater, but he couldn’t parse it. It was probably his wishful thinking that grew an illusion in his mind. Still, he bit his bottom and tugged it into his mouth as he watched the tiniest ripples slither away from his boat. 

Just as Beomgyu was about to settle back down into a relaxed and patient state, he heard a familiar noise coming from the beach. The loud clashing of town drums that he hadn’t heard in seven years. For a moment, he thought his ears might be tricking him. He hoped. Beomgyu watched the dull gray waves rise on the nearest shore and then recede back into the water. His eyes narrowed and he swallowed down the anxiety of what he thought he had heard. Maybe it had just been the trauma of his childhood returning to the forefront of his mind. No, this kingdom was secure. 

It was only when plumes of smoke rushed into the sky that Beomgyu realized his ears had been clouded by the ocean’s breeze. He quickly stood on his sampan, balancing himself when the water turned shaky. The smoke plumes were rising higher than the clouds and they were rising fast. He quickly grabbed one of the branches and sat back on his knees, paddling towards the shore. He kept thinking of his hyung and their home, all the parasols, their clothing and food, everything that could so easily burn down. 

Beomgyu paddled, but the shore didn’t seem to be coming closer. If anything, his short and shallow strokes were making it worse. In frustration, he leaned down farther and dipped his opposite arm into the water, trying to push forward. 

A figure came into his view, a little dot running towards him from the rice paddies. In only a few seconds, the person had crossed into the beach and was kicking sand up behind his feet with every step. Beomgyu’s eyes widened when he recognized his hyung, waving a hand up at him and ushering him to return faster. His mouth opened but was carried away with the wind. Beomgyu paddled as much as he could, but eventually became frantic enough to jump into the water instead.

Its warmth enveloped him easily, much softer than the striking autumn air above him. He pushed forward, eyes on Soobin, until his hyung looked away. Beomgyu followed his line of sight, in and out of the water, until he was faced with the image of men on horseback riding through the exact path Soobin had taken to come here. Beomgyu felt his heart leap through his chest, terrified at the image he was being presented with. It was an exact replica of what had come seven years ago. A group of huge men on huge horses running through their village and destroying everything they had built up. 

Soobin waded into the water, far enough to meet Beomgyu and pull him out by his forearm. He continued to hold on as they ran alongside the beach, perpendicular to the water, and away from the men on horses. The wind still blew just as hard over the sand as it did over the water, and its iciness froze over his wet ears until they felt bruised. Slowly, he began to stray behind Soobin. His hyung had longer legs and a stronger physique that Beomgyu couldn’t match. Still, Soobin only gripped harder and pulled him forward more aggressively. As much as he wanted to look back, he didn’t. He knew he would lose his balance and fall. That would bring him to the same certain death as his parents. 

But running in a flat, open land was not going to save them. There were no forests for miles, nothing to trip the horses or stop the riders. At this point, they would tire out far before the horses ever would. But still, Soobin and Beomgyu ran. And the sound of deep yelling voices behind them began to pierce through the wind. They called out in a tongue Beomgyu could not understand, but one that he could still recognize. The consonants erupted from deep within their throats, their vowels elongated and hissed like a snake. It rejuvenated Beomgyu’s fear and forced the energy through his legs to run faster than he had before. Every chunk of air he inhaled didn’t have time to thaw in his lungs before he pushed it back out into his surroundings. 

Something landed on the ground in front of them, but Beomgyu didn’t have enough time to look at it before Soobin harshly shoved him to the side and into the cresting waves. He crashed into the wet sand, landing almost directly on his face. His still-present self-preservation forced him to immediately lift himself back up and turn towards his brother. 

Soobin had become entangled in some type of net-cloth. He attempted to pull it off and away from his skin, but there wasn’t enough time and his limbs were too long and jumbled. The men had almost completely caught up to them by the time Soobin had one arm free. The only way Beomgyu could possibly escape at this point was if he abandoned his hyung, but that would never happen. He pushed himself from the ground and towards Soobin, attempting to pull the net away even if he knew it was in vain. 

Within seconds, the horses stopped in front of them. Beomgyu let go of the net in order to hold Soobin close instead. He wrapped his arms around the boy’s middle and squeezed until the skin of his fingers had turned white and Soobin’s back was against his chest. The sound of drums haunted the air now that Beomgyu could hear better. Still, he didn’t want to believe it. Even with the men sitting in front of him, above him, staring down at him, he hoped the beating of the drum was really just the beating of his heart. All he could do was stare at them in silent fear as his chest heaved up and down with the attempt to breathe and live. It seemed that his hyung was in a similar position, saying and doing nothing while the men spoke to each other in that same snake’s growl. 

Finally, one of the men slid off the side of his horse. He landed on his feet with the strength and confidence of someone who had been riding for many years. Someone who had been raised up in the snowy plains of a tribe far to the north. Up where they grew horses twice the size of any that Beomgyu had seen. Up where their men ate their meat boiled and grew just as large as the brutish creatures they rode in on. 

When the man stepped forward, Beomgyu instinctively leaned back, still clutching Soobin close. The footprint left behind in the sand was deeply ingrained by the thick and heavy boots the man wore, leaving a mark that would soon be washed away by the tide. The layers of cloth wrapped around his body rubbed against the sheathed sword on his hip when he leaned down, creating some dissonant sound that made Beomgyu swallow out of nervousness. He could still hear the screams of his countrymen and smell the fires that raged behind the rice paddies. The unclean, unshaven, curls of hair that protruded from the skin around the man’s mouth as he leered down at the two was so foreign and wrong to Beomgyu. These men, all of them, they were unclean and they were savages and he couldn’t believe he was about to die at the hands of those who had killed his ancestors when the -

“чи өнөөдөр үхэхгүй.”

Beomgyu stared at the man as he rubbed a hand over his chin, a smile gracing the splotchy features. His voice was deep, deeper than his hyung’s. Like the largest, longest drum their village owned. It was deeper than the signal that the horsemen were returning. 

“Та бидэнд маш их мөнгө олох болно.” 

Again, Beomgyu could do nothing but stare in confusion. Their snake language was so distinct from anything that he had ever heard before that it was impossible to parse. There was not even a basic similarity that he could recognize, such as he could with some foreign travelers that passed through with a tongue that he could understand but not replicate. 

Suddenly, the man grabbed Soobin by the cuff of his jeogori, attempting to pull him up and away. Beomgyu tightened his grip, squeezed his eyes shut, and shook his head. “No!” He yelled, though he knew they couldn’t understand. “No!”

The man roughly grabbed his hair and tugged him back. When Beomgyu opened his eyes, he could see the man pulling Soobin in the opposite direction by his hair, too. Still, Beomgyu didn’t let go. “No!” He repeated over and over as the pressure on his scalp built. At some point, he heard Soobin repeating it alongside him, but his heartbeat was ringing through his ears so loudly that he could barely hear anything. 

But, God, it hurt. Beomgyu had a good amount of hair on his head, quite long and thick, and he could feel the strands ripping out at the base. He let out a noise of pain, but continued pushing through it until he felt Soobin’s hands grab his own and tear them off until the two completely separated. The man tossed Beomgyu aside, only for another brute to grab him before he could catch himself and push him face-first into the sand. Beomgyu cried out as the man harshly pulled his arms behind him and tied them together with a coarse and thin rope. When he pulled Beomgyu back up onto his feet, the boy cried out again at the pain of his shoulder joints extending. 

Immediately, the man turned him around until they were facing each other and slapped Beomgyu across the face. “амаа тат!” He said, and Beomgyu thought he could get the gist of that one. He didn’t move or speak again, even when the man tugged him towards the beast of a horse and lifted him to sit on top of it. He was extremely uncomfortable, especially when the man settled in behind him, leaning forward and into Beomgyu’s space in order to keep control of the horse from the strange position. His cheek burned with heat that somewhat alleviated the cold. 

The man behind him reached up and slapped the side of his horse’s neck, causing it to rear up and begin running forward. The rest of the men did the same and soon they had all taken off down towards the rice paddies and towards the village. It was rocky and uncomfortable for someone who had never been atop a horse before, and Beomgyu thought he hated it. The man kept him stabilized, but Beomgyu would rather have fallen off and broken his face open against the ground if it meant he wouldn’t be taken back to the village just to meet a worse fate. Well, the ground was actually pretty soft right here. Maybe he should hope to fall and get trampled instead. 

Soobin was in the exact position as him, looking just as stiff, uncomfortable, and terrified. Beomgyu wanted to ask his hyung why he had forced him to let go, why he had given up and allowed them to be taken this way, but he was fearful of the man looming behind him. Bigger than any human he had ever seen before and with skin as thick and rough as an animal pelt. 

It didn’t take long until they arrived back at the village. As Beomgyu had anticipated, all their homes were utterly destroyed. Some of the fires were still raging and some had blackened the wood, breaking the houses apart completely. Just like theirs had melted down between the stilts and flopped sadly into the dirt below. But worse than that, there were bodies of the various townspeople lying across the fields, cold and slaughtered. Blades stabbed through their necks or stomachs, impaling them until they writhed to death in misery. Beomgyu couldn’t stand to look. 

The horses came to a stop just at the edge of the rice paddies and each man began descending from his horse. The one behind Beomgyu roughly pulled him from the horse by his elbow and led him to a congregation a fair distance away. There was a living group of his townspeople huddled together and surrounded by many more brutes. Each of the captives seemed to be around the same age as Beomgyu and Soobin. Some were toned fieldworkers with muscles worthy of envy and some were more delicate with baby fat still rounding out their cheeks. And Beomgyu thought…well, Beomgyu thought he fell into the former category.

He pressed close to Soobin and the rest of the villagers as those men briefly spoke to each other. Then, they got back on their horses and began trotting up, forcing the group of people to be ushered alongside them. Any person that accidentally staggered behind or purposely attempted to sneak away was beaten back into the pack. Beomgyu eyed the swords each brute carried on his waist and the bows that hung on their backs, the bleeding faces and dirtied clothing of his townspeople, and tried to decipher why this particular group of people was not being murdered.

It must have been for their labor. With no elderly, children, or infirm being taken, there was no other option. If they were lucky, maybe he and his hyung could continue their humble lives in the rice paddies of China. Even if it was forced labor, he wasn’t losing much. That was life for people like him. No power, no autonomy. They could only hope to continue living under a benevolent master who allowed him to continue selling freely at the market. So Beomgyu and Soobin complied with the barbarians. They allowed themselves to be taken away from the rice paddies, away from the beach, and away from the home Beomgyu had known for his entire life. 

They traveled north in daytime and rested under the stars at nighttime. Much of their journey was through open farmland and plains. Beomgyu imagined the luck of his kingdom’s army coming to rescue them, but he knew the men had purposely avoided populated villages and townships on their way out. After a week, they had exited Jin and entered Gojoseon. A week after that, they had left the peninsula and entered China. 

Beomgyu expected the weather to become warmer as they walked. He was hoping, maybe, they could be sold onto the fruitful southern land that he had only heard of in the stories of various travelers. His imagination of it was certainly better than the reality, but daydreaming of a potentially better life was easier than crying over what they had lost. When his fellow villagers cried, even if it was only into the sleeve of their cream shirts, they would be beaten into the ground. Beomgyu allowed his mind to fill with the images of opulence; things that he couldn’t even imagine existing. Fruits and vegetables to match each color of the elements, clothing with blues and oranges and pinks brightening it, something better than where he had been and where he was right now. Beomgyu enjoyed the fantasy for a while longer. 

But they didn’t pass into a new, warm atmosphere. Instead, it only got colder. Beomgyu didn’t know what direction they were walking at any given moment, but he prayed it wasn’t north. He wouldn’t survive in the snow, he knew that. He was too small, too weak, his joints froze over easily, and he wasn’t bulky enough to expend the type of energy that northern laborers required. It was the same for Soobin; he was a bit taller, but he wasn’t strong. 

The anxiety built up as more days passed and they entered a forest full of bare, gray trees. They had no moisture in their bark or leaves on their branches, there weren’t even any on the forest floor. Beomgyu looked around at the horsemen, trotting along and speaking to each other while the captives remained silent. With their attention distracted, Beomgyu turned to his hyung and leaned close. “Where are we going?” His voice disappeared into the wind as he spoke, and the men didn’t seem to notice. 

Soobin looked forward as they continued to walk. “Don’t know.” 

For a moment, Beomgyu continued watching his hyung. But the boy said nothing more. 

“You need to stay warm.” 

The words had reverberated through the clothing of his hyung’s shirt and into Beomgyu’s cheek. Beomgyu looked up at Soobin from where he was lying on the boy’s chest. Every exhale came out in white steam before dissolving into the atmosphere. His limbs were a bit shaky and his fingers had lost their cherry blush within the harsh binds around his wrists. Soobin looked back down at him with downturned lips and a sigh as Beomgyu’s cheeks pressed into the boy’s collar, hiding away from the nighttime air. He could feel Soobin’s bones through the fabric. It had been two months of walking without any idea where they were headed. Some had already dropped, looking like skeletons before they even hit the ground. All the ones who did were people like him: small, weak, delicate. Realistically, he would be the one to die before Soobin. 

“You become sick every winter already, but if you become sick in this atmosphere, I worry.”

Beomgyu drifted off to the sound of his hyung’s voice. 

“I worry.”

Finally, the horsemen stopped. 

Somehow, it was more difficult for Beomgyu to stand still than it was to keep walking. There was a dull throbbing from the soles of his feet to the tips of his toes and up to his thighs that only worsened when both feet were planted on the dirt. He lifted them up intermittently to relieve some of the exertion, but it wasn’t too helpful. He just wished these men would stop talking so he could keep going wherever they were going. Soobin’s chin lingered on his shoulder as a sign of comfort, but it really didn’t help. There was nothing to comfort him now. 

Just as the pain in his feet was becoming unbearable, the loud thumps of hooves rang through his ears again. It made him flinch, an action that his body wasn’t quite ready for, and Soobin had to stabilize him. 

A new group of men arrived in front of them, and Beomgyu could do nothing but stare. There were about twenty horses, much smaller than the brutes their captors used, but still large enough to carry a full-grown man and the golden plates draping over their front legs like skirts. The men on top held long sticks with silver-pointed tips. Beomgyu thought they looked much less useful than the swords of their current captors, but what did he know?

As the horses came to a stop, one man quickly hopped off and began walking towards the group of barbarians. Coming closer, Beomgyu was able to make out more of his appearance and it was weird. The man wore some golden helmet that completely obscured his face from the men he began speaking to. His arms, chest, and feet were covered in the same golden plates as the horse, leaving his lower body as the only place uncovered. In fact, he didn’t even wear pants. From what Beomgyu could see, the man had a brown piece of fabric wrapped around his hips and white pleats draping over it. 

It looked so strange. Unlike anything Beomgyu had ever seen before. 

After a few moments, the lead barbarian and the weird man came together and began speaking. The skirt-man handed the other some strange clump of metal and they both began making their way to the villagers. They would stop, look at one, and then point to the left or to the right. Beomgyu couldn’t understand what reason they were basing their decisions on. Those to the left consisted of the strongest, tallest men in their group, but also the smaller, weaker, and near-death men. Those to the right held some strong men, but also included those who fell between the two groups. Beomgyu didn’t know which one he would fall into, and he didn’t really care. He could only hope that one group was not being exterminated while the other survived. He just wanted to make it to whatever destination he was headed to. 

When the weird man came to him, he grabbed Beomgyu by the chin and leaned forward. Though the helmet covered his head, nose, and mouth, it left the smallest gap for his eyes. The unnaturally colored eyes stared at Beomgyu and he stared back into them, even with fear in his heart. He had never seen a person with eyes like those; eyes as round as a black bear’s but with the reflection of the ocean in them. 

“Θα μπορούσε να γίνει ερωμένος του Φαραώ.” The man spoke with a slight nod to his head. The tone of his tongue was much calmer than the throatiness of their captors. Though Beomgyu couldn’t understand it, he could recognize the consistent sharp consonants followed by soft vowels, something reminiscent of his own language. It brought a bit of peace to his mind, even if only momentarily. 

“Αρέσουν στο Φαραώ τα αγόρια?” The barbarian’s voice came from behind the strange man, and Beomgyu’s eyebrows raised. The dark, husky tone of snake-language had somehow completely altered itself to fit such a relaxed and calm noise. 

“Mhm.” The man nodded and pointed Beomgyu to the left. He stumbled forward a bit when he began walking, but carried himself successfully to the villagers. When he turned back, he could see the man staring at his hyung. But barely a moment passed before he pointed Soobin to the group on the right. He watched the boy begin walking away and to the other group. Beomgyu wanted to run over there, to tell the barbarians to put him and his brother in the same group, to do something. But when Soobin stood still with his group and turned to meet Beomgyu’s eyes, he shook his head. 

There were so many things he could have been thinking, and so many reasons for Beomgyu not to make a scene, but he didn’t know. He couldn’t know what Soobin was thinking from such a distance. He couldn’t know anything. All he really knew was that this world wasn’t a place for people like him to fight. That right was saved for those who were given it by God, those who were born lucky. He and Soobin weren’t born lucky. They were born as tools. 

So when ten of the strange men, with their small horses and pleated skirts, surrounded Beomgyu’s group and the rest surrounded Soobin’s, Beomgyu didn’t fight it. He didn’t slack in his walking as they left each other behind. He didn’t get beaten or accidentally murdered today. He simply allowed his swollen feet to weakly drag him in the direction they desired. 

As the journey continued, the air became warmer. Even though winter had yet to end and the nights still made Beomgyu wonder how much longer he had to survive, each day brought a more bearable air. 

For another month, they continued. Their new captors seemed to be much less jovial than the last. They didn’t talk to each other as much and they didn’t eat together before going to sleep. However, they also didn’t pay as much attention to the villagers, allowing them to speak to each other and walk a bit more freely. These people, Beomgyu thought, seemed to be a bit more solitary. He could appreciate that if it meant he was left alone. 

But unfortunately, this comfort did not last forever. The men eventually led them out of the green grasses and trees they had been covered by and into barren sand. At first, it excited Beomgyu. It reminded him of his home on the beach; he was happy to enter some tropical region to live out the rest of his puny existence. He kept his eyes peeled in every direction, looking for the body of water this beach led to. It seemed to be the longest stretch of sand he had ever seen, but he still daydreamed about the possibilities of his future. There wasn’t much more he could hope for other than to be placed in a semi-familiar climate with rulers that left him alone like these men seemed to do. His only worry was that he would not be able to complete the labor they wanted. His body was on its way to collapsing after these months and he found it hard to even lay down at night. If he couldn’t perform well, he wouldn’t survive. But he had made it this far, he had to survive. 

The longer they walked, the more confused Beomgyu became. The sand seemed to stretch into the horizon and off the face of the earth without a single drop of water to be found. He noticed that it was much thinner and lighter than the sand at his home; it floated into the sky with every step and entered his hair, eyes, clothing, and skin. At nighttime, he sat and grabbed a handful from where his wrists were still bound. The particles floated through his fingers immediately whereas his homeland’s sand would have stuck together. It was softer and darker, almost orange where his had been white. When he stood up to look for an ocean in the distance, the nightguard watched him closely, but said nothing. 

There was no water. Beomgyu couldn’t understand it. But the more he stared, the more he thought the dunes of sand looked like ocean waves. It messed with his perception a bit, and he wondered if the ocean was really the ocean or just something he had conjured up in his daydreams. 

By the time Beomgyu could see something more than just endless yellow sand, only twenty-three villagers were left from the thirty-four that had been separated into this group. Each time a person died in their sleep, the rest had no choice but to leave their bodies in the sand and continue on. Beomgyu held the hands of other villagers as they walked and silently mourned those who had passed. 

At first, they could only see a black dot in the distance. It was far enough away that he couldn’t view any details until half a day later. Slowly, it grew and grew in his vision until the picture of a city was clear. 

Beomgyu had never even been to the most populous part of his kingdom, but he had been to the market. Even there, with everyone in his village present, it was not even partially as large as this city looked. Settled within an ocean of gold were thousands of white buildings bunched together close enough that their sides were touching. The ground was a reddish-brown color that reminded Beomgyu of dirt, but it was as hard on his feet as wood when he stepped on it. Immediately, he didn’t like it. His soles had been covered with the bottom cuff of his pants since he had seen Soobin, and were now worn down to the point of being useless. Soft sand under his skin was nice and alleviated the pressure for the while they had been there, but this harsh terrain would not be good for him. Every step he took was accentuated with a limp, and one glance around him told him the rest of his villagers were in the same position. 

Their gait significantly slowed and Beomgyu worried that the horsemen would begin beating them, but they simply slowed down to move at the same speed. 

To distract himself, Beomgyu looked around at the city. The path they walked could fit thirty people side-by-side, but was separated down the middle by a row of square, gray rock-bowls filled with crystal blue water. In front of the buildings stood pillars of white, carved with images of humans and animals that Beomgyu couldn’t recognize. One of them held the image of a human body but with the head of a long-beaked bird. His eyes widened as he stared at it. Did this place really have bird-humans in it?

Once the shock began to settle, Beomgyu took in the people around him. They were a bit hard to see due to the horsemen, but the street seemed to be busy. There were people behind stalls, selling various pieces of pottery, clothing, and some rocks that sparkled under the sunlight, stringed together in order of smallest to largest. Some people were stopped at the stalls but most people were just walking around. It reminded Beomgyu of his own village’s market, but without the huge, bustling crowd and seemingly uninterested walkers. He didn’t really understand; what was the point in going to a market if you were not going to buy anything? In Beomgyu’s home, the sellers were the same buyers that supported others. 

Even though he found their behavior strange, he did like their clothing. The women wore white dresses that fell to their ankles while men wore white dresses that fell to their thighs. Beomgyu still believed the image of a man wearing a dress was strange, but he was a bit jealous that their white cloth was untarnished. His, in turn, had been essentially ruined throughout the journey. This kingdom was extremely polished in architecture and seemed to be much more luxurious than Beomgyu had ever seen, but their people still wore the same white of peasants. It made him feel a bit more comfortable, even though he was clearly still below them. 

But maybe this was the life of a laborer in this kingdom? Did they get to spend their days walking a busy, beautiful street after their job was done? There were so many people , maybe the division of labor gave each of them more freetime? How lucky would he be if that were the case?

It seemed that the passersby were also interested in him and the rest of the villagers. Occasionally, he would see someone peeking at them through the gaps in horsemen. He didn’t like it. He was embarrassed to be a representative of his home. In this state, he most likely looked as though he had crawled from a hole in the ground. 

When Beomgyu heard a noise from the man beside him, he quickly turned to look. His first fear was that one would collapse and die in the middle of the street, but that seemed not to be the case. The man’s eyes were wide and staring off into the distance in front of them. Beomgyu followed his gaze and his own eyes widened. 

There were huge mountains towering over the city in the distance. Without any clouds or fog, he could easily see their pristine white color and perfectly triangular shape. He had never seen mountains without curves, rigid edges, a tilt, or some type of imperfection. This land they had been taken to was truly something else. He continued to stare at them as the horsemen took the villagers closer, and soon he could see even more of the landscape come into view. There was a building ten times as tall as the street buildings, with walls as crisp and white as those on the mountains. There were stairs coming from the ground and rising as high as twenty people stacked on top of each other. At the top of the stairs were many more of the thick, cylindrical columns that held the ceiling in the air. The length of the building seemed to stretch much farther than Beomgyu could see from his place on the ground.

Between the center two columns sat a small, square hole. It was shadowed into darkness, preventing Beomgyu from seeing anything within it. There were several men standing beside it at the top of the stairs, dressed similarly to the horsemen Beomgyu had been stuck with. 

Once they came to the bottom of the stairs, the horsemen stopped and waited as another group of men came towards them. Again, Beomgyu couldn’t stand having his feet on the ground for so long and it was becoming impossible to ignore, even by the splendor of such a monument. It was pretty, but Beomgyu also thought he might die at its feet. 

This time, he didn’t even listen to the men’s conversation. He didn’t care about whatever language they spoke or how it sounded, he just waited for them to be done. And it didn’t take long before the new men pulled Beomgyu and two others aside. One came behind him and swiftly cut the ropes that had been binding him for so long. When he pulled his hands in front of himself again, his eyebrows raised at the wide and deep red lashes across his skin. The tips of his fingers were slightly gray, but color began to return almost immediately. He had not felt any pain on his wrists or hands, but he supposed he would once the blood fully returned. 

The men began ushering Beomgyu and the two other villagers to walk up the stairs while the rest of his people were taken in another direction outside of this large monument. The muscles of Beomgyu’s thighs and calves could barely carry him upwards, and he held hands with the two others to keep them all stabilized. Again, the men didn’t lay a hand on any of them, and instead met their slow pace. Beomgyu didn’t have the energy or willpower to decipher the intentions of the men, the reason why only three villagers were picked apart from the rest, or what was intended for his future. All he could do was look down at the stairs as he forced his body to walk him up. 

The guards at the top, with long spears and serious expressions, only glanced in Beomgyu’s direction before returning to whatever conversation they were having. The three entered the door at the usherance of the men who had taken them up, but Beomgyu still kept his eyes on the ground. His breath came out in staggered bursts, burning his lungs. If he lifted his head, he was sure he would lose consciousness and be left to die like the bodies in the sand. The only thing he could tell was that they had not yet entered any building. It seemed they had only passed an outer wall and continued on a bright white stone path. Beomgyu moved forward and tugged the other two along with him. 

“Αυτοί είναι οι εταίροι?” A voice called and echoed through whatever space they were in. 

One of the men spoke back to the voice, the new person, and then placed a hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder, nearly knocking him to the ground with only the placement of his palm. Beomgyu stopped walking and so did the other two villagers. 

Suddenly, his chin was forced upwards by a thick hand. Beomgyu’s eyes met those of a man with eyes as green as the leaves Soobin used to paint on his parasols. The shape of his face was more like a rectangle, with a defined elongated nose and chin that made Beomgyu uncomfortable. It settled somewhere into the uncanny valley where Beomgyu recognized that this was a human, but still couldn’t reckon with it. 

Once the man let him go, he moved to the next one and Beomgyu allowed his head to roll back towards the ground. It was definitely warm in this kingdom, but the sun beating down on the back of his neck was only dehydrating him like a fish. After a few seconds, the man led them inside while the armed men stayed out. And then, finally, they were in the shade. Still, Beomgyu couldn’t look up or do much of anything other than walk. With only one person guiding them, it must have been obvious. There was no fighting back at this point. 

The man held up his hand in front of them, and they stopped. He then opened a door and Beomgyu finally looked up. The room was completely enclosed by white walls with no openings; there were torches in various corners, but the light was still dim across the barren room. The flooring was a bit uneven and there was a small hole in the opposite corner of the room that Beomgyu cautiously eyed. He wondered if it was a trap and the man would shove him down to his death. 

But as his mind wandered, the man suddenly grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and began tugging on the knot that held it closed. Beomgyu’s eyes widened and he grabbed the man’s hands, enclosing around them and attempting to pull them off. He shook his head at the man, wanting to say something but knowing they could not communicate. His heart was beating quickly and sending a rush of tingles through the rest of his body that only resulted in weak trembles. The man stopped for a moment, staring Beomgyu straight in the eyes, and then simply continued to undo the knot. Beomgyu’s hands still covered the man’s, but he was too weak to tense his muscles. It took no effort for the knot to be pulled apart, and then for his shirt to be pulled open. However, it didn’t reveal his skin quite yet, due to the second knot underneath. That seemed to irritate the man, who glared down at it and quickly untied it before pulling Beomgyu’s shirt off his shoulders. 

He then moved down to Beomgyu’s pants, and the boy’s hands followed his again even though he couldn’t do anything. It only took a single pull for the knot on his waist to be undone before they quickly unfolded and fell to the ground at his ankles. With the fabric of his cuffs already being undone and wrapped around his feet, the man simply pointed at them and then made a motion as if he were throwing something away. Beomgyu assumed it meant he wanted them off, but before he could move, the man had already gone to the next villager. 

Beomgyu leaned down and attempted to pull the wraps from his feet, but flinched when a sharp pain ran through his foot. He peeled it back, slower this time, but was barely able to move it. When he squinted, trying to focus through the dimness of the room, he finally saw the problem. His feet must have begun bleeding due to their consistent abuse and without having any oil or a change of bandages, the scabs simply grew through the fabric of his pants. 

With that realization, he nervously looked back up at the man, who was focused on undressing the last boy. Beomgyu’s eyes traveled down to the state of his comrades’ bodies and then immediately looked away again. He told himself he didn’t look as bad off as them, but he knew he must.

The man looked at him, to his feet, and angrily motioned away again while saying something Beomgyu couldn’t understand. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again before lifting his foot and pointing at the dark brown color that had overtaken the wraps around his sole. 

It seemed to work, because the men made some noise in his throat before walking past the boys and to the door they had entered through. His voice echoed throughout the larger room outside and then in moments, he had come back in with a group of women. They pulled a wooden cart with several buckets of water behind them. Beomgyu and the other two boys backed away and instinctively huddled together, covering their nakedness. But he soon realized the women had their own breasts exposed and only wore pleated white skirts with golden bands around their heads. 

Even though Beomgyu was deeply uncomfortable and couldn’t understand why these women were exposed in front of him, it made him feel better about his own nudity. That was probably strange and wrong, and it certainly made him feel a bit grossed out at himself, but the comfort was probably preferable if there was nothing he could do to get away from them anyway. 

Two of the women grabbed a bucket of water and carried it to one corner of the room, the muscles in their arms defined and flexing as they did so. The rest followed and then there was a bucket in each corner except for the one with the hole. The original two ladies ushered him towards them, looking him straight in the eyes. He glanced at the boys beside him, but they were being ushered off into separate directions, just like him. Beomgyu hesitantly walked the few feet it took to get to them and then sat when they pointed at the ground. One carried a small bowl while the other dipped a larger cup into the water and swirled it around. He watched with heavy and tired eyes, knees bent underneath him and hands tucked away in his lap to keep some sort of dignity. But when the woman dipped her fingers into the bowl and brought her hand down to rub some thick, oily substance over his body, he didn’t stop her. Over his chest, his stomach, his crotch, and his legs. She then moved behind him to do the same over his head and down his back. 

Beomgyu let out a sigh as her fingers pressed into his skin. It skirted the line between painful and relaxing. His muscles had been drained to a complete emptiness, but this woman seemed to be gentle enough that they didn’t break. 

The woman in front of him kneeled down and he avoided looking at her, but she gently grabbed his chin with one hand and drew downward until his lips parted. She then brought her other hand up and tried to press it into his mouth. He could immediately taste some substance on it and shook his head, pulling away from her intrusion. She gripped him harder, pressing a thumb into the joint of his jaw and between his teeth until it was painful. In the next second, the woman behind him reached around and pinched his nose shut. He continued trying to shake his head, but they held strong and eventually he had to open his mouth to breathe. She immediately pressed into his mouth and he wanted to bite her, but she didn’t push in far enough. Her fingers rubbed against his teeth, putting a strange taste in his mouth. It was like swallowing a bucket of saltwater and grass. 

His gut told him they were poisoning him. He remembered drinking from the ocean as a child and subsequently throwing up. These people must have been trying to do that to him. So as soon as the woman withdrew her finger from his mouth, Beomgyu spit it onto the floor. Part of him expected to get hit for that, but they didn’t seem to care. The unpleasant taste lingered in his mouth, but he didn’t have time to take it in before a warm waterfall was poured over his head. He closed his eyes as the woman behind him began rubbing back over his body, wiping him free of the stuff she had put on him. Why would she put anything on him if she was going to remove it anyway? Nothing made sense to him anymore. 

They continued the same routine for a long while, as the thick substance proved to be difficult. The oil stuck to his skin and left him feeling uncomfortably sticky. Still, the consistent pressure against his skin began to wear him out. It had been so long since he had any opportunity to relax and even if this was not the most ideal place or time, well, it could be the last time he would ever have to relax. So, as they doused him in warm water and gently rubbed over his skin and hair, he couldn’t help his head from drooping forward. By the time he even realized he was falling asleep, he had fallen asleep.

Chapter Text

When Beomgyu first awoke, his mind’s eye presented him with the image of his home in Korea. His back against a soft but firm surface instead of wet dirt or loose sand and his skin particularly warm instead of freezing over the dusting of hair on his arms. Beomgyu let out a soft breath of contentment before opening his eyes and being completely disoriented for several moments. Instead of the brown wooden walls and ceiling he was accustomed to, the room shone with vibrant white walls. They were as bright as the clouds in the sky but sparkled with a crystalline clearness of the ocean. To bring both natural wonders together in a single object, well, Beomgyu had never seen it before. Never imagined it, even.

But though this room was certainly a sight, it was not the home Beomgyu recognized. With that understanding, the remembrance of everything that had happened came back to his mind. He let out a sigh and laid still for a moment before deciding to get up. He did not have much of an intention to escape, knowing that he was in the midst of some fantastical palace in which its inhabitants were surely accustomed to preventing people like him from escaping. He had no idea what his use was, but in a place as large and pretty as this, he could only hope that it was something good. He had to guess that he wouldn’t be immediately killed due to the fact that these people had paid money for him. But he could never be certain.

Beomgyu sat up in his spot and then attempted to scoot towards the right in order to get out of bed. Instead of rolling onto the floor as he thought, he fell off of an elevated surface and crashed down onto the hard, white stone below. Luckily, he only hit his elbows and knees on the ground instead of bashing his entire face in, but he still let out a curse of pain. When Beomgyu looked up in confusion, he realized whatever he had been laying on was not the style of bed he was accustomed to. His had always been a soft mat laid flat on the floor, but this mat was elevated by a table that came at least up to his knees. Well, at least it hadn’t been high enough to break his nose flat on the tiles. 

He pushed himself back up onto his palms and attempted to stand up, but he only got one foot flat on the ground before a searing pain ripped through the bottom of his feet and sent him straight back to the floor again. When he looked down at his soles, he was definitely surprised to see that they had been wrapped in fresh, crisp, and white cloth bandages. He couldn’t remember the old cloth being removed from them, but the replacement seemed to bode well for his future safety. Beomgyu almost scoffed at himself for the leaps in assumptions that he was making, but with absolutely no idea why he had been brought here, every single observation counted. 

A few soft and methodical thumps sounded outside of this white room, bringing Beomgyu out of his thoughts. The noise continued becoming louder for a few seconds until a man appeared through a curtain of white cloth that had been hanging over one section of the wall. Beomgyu had assumed it was some sort of decorative drapery, much like the boar skin he and Soobin had hung on their own wall. It seemed strange to Beomgyu, that this room would have nothing more than a cloth enclosing him when he had free arms and could potentially escape. But , his eyes wandered down to his feet, he couldn’t really escape if he couldn’t walk.

The man came to stand in front of Beomgyu, who was still sitting on the floor. He said something, but Beomgyu couldn’t understand. Didn’t this man know that? Couldn’t he look at Beomgyu and realize that the boy would have no idea what he was saying?

Regardless, the man bent down and helped Beomgyu back to that weird lifted bed before grabbing his left foot and beginning to unravel the cloth. He began speaking again, occasionally glancing up at the boy, but no matter how long he rambled, nothing made sense to Beomgyu. His silence didn’t seem to be annoying, thankfully. And the man just continued to speak without pause or hesitation. 

It seemed weird that Beomgyu’s feet needed to be changed so soon; when he would get a cut at home, his mother would only replace the bandages when his blood had soaked through the first. He almost preferred it that way, because the feeling of dry cloth peeling from his injured and blistered feet was extremely uncomfortable. 

Once the man was almost done, another woman came into the room through the white curtain. Again, she was pulling a large cart, and again, she had her breasts exposed. Beomgyu shied away from looking at her, and instead watched the man in front of him. It was so weird , he thought. He had never seen people so light. Light eyes, hair, and nipples. Because yes. He noticed. Of course their clothes were as white as the walls of the room he had been entrapped in. The woman wore her same pleated skirt and the man wore the same white dress that every other man in this civilization wore. And when Beomgyu looked down, he realized he was also wearing nothing but a draped cloth around his body. 

The woman handed him a glass of what looked like chunky mud. He frowned at it and looked back up at her, but she said nothing. Only the man who remained wrapping his feet with new bandages motioned towards him and spoke. Beomgyu could assume he was meant to drink it, though he didn’t want to. But when the woman reached forward, the image of Beomgyu’s mouth being forced open to take in whatever they had given him last time popped into his mind and he immediately brought the glass up to his lips.

It tasted disgusting. Like the bitterness of rotten fish and pig dung mixed together. But when Beomgyu made a disgusted face and pulled it away, the woman gave him a look that made him return it to his mouth. 

She didn’t leave when the man left. She simply stared down at Beomgyu, occasionally crossing her arms over her chest until he finished drinking the sludge. She then took the glass from his hand and left him silently sitting on the bed, confused about everything.

Beomgyu did not know how many days had passed in the white room. There was no open air or any way to tell whether it was daytime or nighttime. He simply slept and stayed awake whenever he felt like it. For most of his time spent awake, Beomgyu was in company. The man would occasionally come to change his bandages, the woman would come to make him drink the sludge, and he would be taken to the water room often. At one point, someone even came to cut his hair. For that, he was thankful. It was very hot in this place at all hours and the hair against his forehead and neck was much like a wool blanket. Too much. 

For a lot of his day, he would hear these people speak, whether it was from conversations between the women or the man just speaking to hear his own voice. Beomgyu had no idea what they were saying, but their voices were pleasant, so sometimes he would listen. Other times, he became bored and zoned out. Stared at the ceiling or walls a bit rudely. Overall, he had plenty of time to think. And there was only one conclusion.

They were most certainly going to murder him.

What other reason would they have to keep his body fresh? They scrubbed his skin until it was red every few hours. They fed him until he began to see the meat on his bones return. They groomed his hair and rubbed his teeth and gave him clean clothes to wear and -

He was going to die. He was going to be made pretty for a sacrifice to the gods. They were simply waiting for his feet to heal, the last piece of him that wasn’t quite perfect yet, and then he was going to die.

As soon as Beomgyu’s feet had healed enough to walk without heavy discomfort, he did. He waited for the lull in activity between his washing and bandage replacement before standing from the bed. Feet flat against the hard floor felt weird after so long without putting pressure on them, so he took a few seconds to balance himself before walking towards the curtains. He reached the cloth, gently pulled it aside, and was faced with the opening of a larger, empty room. He had been taken through it before, because the water room was a fair distance away, but he had never actually explored the area.

Around the white walls of the larger area were several more small rooms, he assumed, with the same white curtains hanging over them. If there were other people in there, he had no idea. He had never heard a peep. But right now, he had no intention of exploring. Beomgyu made his way to the opposite side of the room where there was another curtain, this one of a deep red. He walked towards it as quietly as possible, his footsteps not leaving even the lingering trace of an echo, and pulled it back. Beyond that was a long hallway that streamed from his left to his right and Beomgyu had no idea which direction would lead to the exit, so he simply walked to the left. 

The hallway curved to a strong enough degree that he could not see if anyone was approaching from either direction, but he hoped his hearing was strong enough to notice any footsteps coming. 

The hallway walls held torches that lightened his path, but the space between them was long enough to create an indentation in the brightness. Occasionally, it would fade enough to prevent Beomgyu from being able to see anything around a curve. He attempted to walk slowly and carefully, keeping his ears open for any sign of movement because why was this hallway so fucking long but in the next moment, someone turned around the corner, walking the opposite direction as he was, and collided directly into his chest. Beomgyu had still not returned to his natural plateau of strength, and so he nearly tumbled over from the force of the other person. 

The man exclaimed something as they both caught their balance and stood up straight, facing each other. He was a bit taller than Beomgyu and had those strange light eyes, skin, and hair that the boy had become familiar with. He wore a different garb than the others, though. Instead of a plain white cloth held together by a single band of gold around the waist, this man had a pleated skirt of white and a long red cloth hanging over his shoulders and draping off his arms and back like a cape. He held a stick with a sharp piece of metal over the end, similar to the weapon Beomgyu’s dad would have occasionally used to stab at fish in the water.

He didn’t really know what to do. He had been caught sneaking out of his room, right? But the man hadn’t yet gotten angry at him or done anything to him. He just stood there and watched Beomgyu for several seconds with his head cocked to the side in confusion. Beomgyu looked down the hallway behind him, wishing he could just pass through and continue going wherever he was going, but his inability to know who this person was prevented him from doing anything suspicious. 

After a few seconds of the man’s gaze traveling down Beomgyu’s body, he finally took a step backwards, strengthening his stance, and pointed his stick at the boy’s face. When he took a step forward, Beomgyu took one backwards. He wished so deeply that he could just communicate . He wasn’t a threat , he had almost fallen over just by knocking into someone. But the man continued to approach him, continued to make Beomgyu walk backwards with a blade directed at his throat, and waited for the first second that Beomgyu stopped doing what he was supposed to. Eventually, though, the slow pace tired the man out and he simply grabbed Beomgyu by the arm and dragged him down the hallway quickly.

They returned through the direction Beomgyu had come from, eventually pushing past a long red curtain and back into the common room with many doors. Startled, Beomgyu’s eyes widened when he saw the man who usually changed his bandages standing by one of the walls. The man quickly turned to them and his eyes immediately darkened. Without a word, he approached Beomgyu and took him from the other man before tugging him back to the room he had been staying in for the past several weeks.

Of course Beomgyu had been beaten with a stick before, but it was much different coming from his twenty-year-old mother than coming from a thirty-year-old man. Ten lashes were enough to break his skin, but Beomgyu had experienced worse pain before and he was able to take it without much complaint. 

Again, he stayed in the same white room while waiting for his injuries to heal. The only difference this time was that his hands were bound together and then tied to a closed circle hook on the wall. The rope was short enough to make sleeping uncomfortable now, as it left his hands dangling in the air even when completely relaxed. The lack of sleep caused his mood to plummet. Part of him was angry that he had attempted to leave in the first place and lost such a huge chunk of his freedom in the process, but another part of him was now even more ignited to get away .

The only positive was that the people hadn’t begun treating him badly; they treated him exactly the same as they always had. Even the man who beat him had held no grudges, and continued rambling on in Beomgyu’s silence as he cleaned the small wounds on the boy’s back. 

Eventually, Beomgyu healed. He couldn’t see his progress, whether or not there was scarring, or anything. But when a man he had never seen before came to cut his tether and walk him down an unknown hallway, Beomgyu knew he must have been presentable again. And it made him angry. He didn’t want to get sacrificed, but the ropes that still bound his hands together prevented him from making any irrational decisions, such as punching this man in the face and running off in some random direction. Yeah, he knew he wouldn’t make it far. And if he assaulted someone, the punishment would surely be much worse. 

So Beomgyu went along with it. But only for now. And he swore to himself that if he was taken to be slaughtered in front of many people, he would cause as much trouble as possible and take a few out with him.

But after a few minutes, they arrived in an area that he was not expecting to see. It was much more grand and beautiful than the room had been confined to. A large open space with sand-colored flooring and lined patterns of gold intersecting at every inch to create small diamonds, and then white outlines of flowers within those. The walls were made of the same sandy-colored material and were kept mostly bare save for a few large draperies that hung in intervals. They depicted the images of people and animals that Beomgyu had never seen before and ones that he could not be sure actually existed. The ceiling was higher than any human could reach, but was kept connected to the ground by several thick columns of gold. In the center of the room there was a firepit with a sand-filled metal bowl hanging over it from a hook on the ceiling and several small metal cups within it. 

There were many people within the room, maybe twenty. And most were participating in some activity; some played instruments, some were leaning over white sheets and drawing on them much like he had seen his hyung do on his parasols. Some were speaking, holding thick objects, moving strangely, and just - 

Beomgyu had no idea. He didn’t know what any of them were doing.

When the guard pushed him forward by the shoulder, Beomgyu took a single step and then stopped again, looking back at the man. But the guard had already moved to stand by the wall with a few others and watch the scene in front of them.

Beomgyu looked back to the room only to notice that almost every person within it looked similar to him. None had the same light hair, eyes, or skin as the people holding him captive. In fact, quite a few looked like they could have been from the same village as Beomgyu, but none spoke the same tongue. He couldn’t even find either of the boys he had arrived with.

With frustration, Beomgyu also realized that none of the boys had their hands bound in front of them as he did. It was a bit embarrassing, a bit humiliating, even though he didn’t think he had actually done anything wrong to get such treatment. He was just…so…confused. 

What was the point of being in a room with these people, who seemed to him as the upper class, when he was clearly just a peasant? Because, just as he expected, none of them fraternized with him. They spoke with each other, laughed and smiled, but none even looked in his direction. They utilized the space around them by grabbing various objects, messing with the sand, and doing whatever they wanted, but he could never do so when he had no idea what any of this was.

So until he was taken from the room, Beomgyu sat and watched. Not moving and not speaking.

For each day afterwards, Beomgyu was taken to the same place with the same people, and always did the same thing. Nobody ever spoke to him and he never spoke back, simply listening to their words and conversations. Beomgyu assumed at some point that he was meant to be learning the same things as them, but he had no way of knowing what was going on or what they were doing. To be fair, he wasn’t asking them, either, but he could hear them and they didn’t speak the same language as him. How was he supposed to know?

But one day, things changed. 

One day, a new man came into the room.

He was dressed completely differently to every person Beomgyu had seen before. Where the boys in the room wore only a white cloth that hung from their shoulders to their thighs, this man wore several items of shining pure gold over his. A thick, golden cloth was wrapped around his waist with blue beads hanging over it at various lengths. There was some sort of golden necklace that hung broadly around the collar of his dressing and it shone under the room’s candles, looking quite heavy but so pretty that Beomgyu couldn’t take his eyes away from it. Golden metal bands were strapped around his biceps and wrists, tight enough to keep them in place. 

But the most striking thing, Beomgyu thought, was the person’s face. He had black hair like Beomgyu’s and it was held back by a golden headband with the image of a snake’s reared head erupting from the front. His facial features were unlike anything Beomgyu had seen in his hometown or in his captors. For some reason, Beomgyu’s eyes were drawn to the nose that stuck out from the boy’s face against his youthful cheeks and sharply lined eyes. Everything about this person screamed that he was different. Even the way he carried himself with confidence and an almost childish pride was weirdly different from the people Beomgyu had already met. 

But all of his ogling led Beomgyu to confusion. Because this Golden Man sat down, just a small distance from the fire pit, and every single person in the room immediately dropped what they were doing to appear at his side. Beomgyu wasn’t sure what to do, because he wasn’t really one of them. His social skills told him he should adhere to the crowd and go get in the golden man’s space, but what if he wasn’t welcome? Would it be worse to be publicly kicked out? Well…how was he supposed to know.

So he stayed in the corner, watching from a distance. The Golden Man spoke and the people laughed. They pushed cups around the sand, poured some dark liquid into another cup, and drank from it. They massaged his shoulders, held his hands, and even started gently tugging the clothing off of his shoulders. 

Beomgyu watched with curious and confused eyes, bound hands sitting still in his lap. His ears were open, trying to understand what was happening, but it was a bit hopeless. The only thing he could tell from context clues was that this Golden Man was clearly an important person. 

He stared at the little shiny snake on the Golden Man’s head, hardly even noticing when it turned to face him directly. Startled, Beomgyu’s eyes shifted down only to see another pair of black eyes boring into his own. He felt a bit like his heart had stopped and his ears stopped working when the man’s lips moved. Everything sounded like mush from the fear he had done something wrong, but he wouldn’t have been able to understand the man anyway. So Beomgyu turned his gaze to the boys around the golden man, who were all staring back at him. Great. So he had made everything awkward.

One of the boys stood and quickly made his way to Beomgyu before tugging him onto his feet. He led Beomgyu to the rest of the group and they both sat together with Beomgyu on the outskirts. Another boy stood and grabbed some small object before standing in front of the group. As soon as the Golden Man’s attention was focused on that person, the one who had taken Beomgyu to the group decided to smack him on the back of the head. It really pissed Beomgyu off, because how was he supposed to know that he was meant to sit with the rest of them? 

As much as he wanted to, Beomgyu knew it was probably best not to drop-kick that other kid in the neck. At least, not right now. Maybe later, if they were ever alone. 

Some high-pitched noise came from the wooden stick that boy in front of them held to his mouth and it made Beomgyu’s expression turn into strange confusion. At this point, the constant confusion was simply making him angry. He really wanted to hit someone and scream at them to explain what was happening. The sound was horrible, like a screaming frog, but everyone seemed to enjoy it. Beomgyu was angry. 

For several minutes, he patiently waited for the person to stop. Once it did, the people began smiling widely and speaking again. As they did, Beomgyu stared into the sand bowl, bored and confused. His life experience had given him the ability to zone out of the world while waiting for something to happen, such as a fish biting his pole, but none of that life experience could prepare him for what it would feel like from the fish’s perspective when it was pulled out of the water. 

Eventually, a noise caught Beomgyu’s attention. A noise…like someone was eating something. His eyes sparkled with immediate hunger at the idea that he could actually eat something other than the sludge he had been given over the past few weeks or so. But when he looked over, those directly around him didn’t seem to have anything. When he craned his neck a bit, he could see the Golden Man, but he wasn’t eating anything either. With narrowed eyes, Beomgyu scanned downwards until he landed on the image of someone’s face between the man’s legs.

Without even getting a good look, Beomgyu immediately turned away. His eyes were wide and cheeks burning. Again, his heart beat much too fast, much too hard. He quickly glanced up to the guards on the opposite side of the room, but they had no reaction. Just as if they had seen this every single day. Beomgyu closed his eyes and tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t go away. 

Suddenly, things clicked into place. 

Of course Beomgyu had heard rumors of his village leader having more than one wife. Even more than that, he had heard rumors of opulent northern cities where one man could have as many sexual partners as he wanted without marrying them at all. 

Of course Beomgyu would never have seen one in person before. But that was what this was, right? Beomgyu was going to be one of those eternal bachelors.

As Beomgyu felt himself having a silent mental breakdown, the others seemed to be completely unaffected. For every second that passed with the continued sucking noises, Beomgyu felt his mental state deteriorate. He attempted to distract himself with thoughts of Soobin and where he may be, even if it was a bit inappropriate in timing. In Beomgyu’s imagination, Soobin had been brought to another country in order to marry an empress and was now living out a fanciful life. It was nice to think about.

Eventually the noises stopped and Beomgyu began thanking the stars that he hadn’t seen in ages. 

Sitting back in his room, once again tethered to the wall, Beomgyu began thinking.

Firstly, how fucking long would it be before they allowed him off of the wall? Before they unbound his hands again? As it was, they were only unbinding him when he was in the watering room, but how long would it take before he was trusted to be on his own again? Surely it wasn’t forever?

It wasn’t out of trickery that he wanted to have his freedom returned, either. Even though Beomgyu didn’t want to be here, there were some positives. Well, the only one he could think of was that he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be sacrificed anymore, but at least it was still a positive. He also feared the punishment of being caught trying to escape more than he hated the idea of putting his mouth on another person’s dick maybe once a month. The Golden Man only came around every few days and he had plenty of other, more experienced people to choose from. Logistically, Beomgyu would not actually have to do anything that often. And besides, it was just dick in his mouth. Nothing more than that.

Except, on the Golden Man’s next visit, Beomgyu learned that it was definitely more than that.

The man came dressed in his same shining golden garb that Beomgyu couldn’t take his eyes off of. As soon as he came into the room and sat in front of the fire pit, everyone came to his sides. Beomgyu tended to linger on the outskirts, allowing everyone else the chance to get close to their Golden Man while he attempted to remain unnoticed. Ever since that first glance, the guy hadn’t even looked at Beomgyu. And it was perfectly fine that way. 

But today, the Golden Man seemed to be in a different mood. It started off the same as it always did, with a random person showing off their “talent,” this time with looking at a paper and speaking, and then the Golden Man picked someone closest to him to start sucking him off. Beomgyu never looked, he couldn’t look. It just felt wrong to see an intimate act between two people when it didn’t involve him. It just felt wrong. So he attempted to wait through the minutes it took for the Golden Man to finish, but it seemed to be over far too quickly. 

A couple of the people next to Beomgyu tugged at his dressing until he looked over in confusion. Unfortunately, it seemed that the Golden Man was staring straight at him, and Beomgyu immediately looked back to the sand bowl as if he could just pretend like they had never made eye-contact. Unfortunately, the other boys wouldn’t allow him to get away. They chatted along with the Golden Man and tugged more on Beomgyu’s clothing. Eventually, he stood and made his way to stand in front of the man while the others adjusted to allow him room. They didn’t seem to like it, he thought, and their faces looked irritated. But he didn’t understand because he would have rathered for one of them to be in his position, too. 

One of the other boys stood when the Golden Man spoke and waved a hand, and Beomgyu watched as he trailed to the large, stringed instrument at the back of the room. His gaze was only brief, however, as it drifted back down to the scene in front of him, where he supposed he was meant to be looking. Someone was kneeling in front of the man’s spread legs with his cock down their throat. And though Beomgyu couldn’t see anything explicit from the back of their head, he could hear the noises and that was enough. 

The Golden Man’s right hand lingered on the black strands of the boy’s hair without tangling into them or exerting any pressure at all. Beomgyu’s eyes naturally landed on the golden rings that encompassed a few of the man’s fingers before flickering back up to his face, where there wasn’t much of an expression. The Golden Man pointed down at the ground next to the other boy, and Beomgyu bent down to his knees even though he felt his heart drop. The idea of having to put his mouth around the man’s dick was actually extremely nerve-wracking. He wasn’t exactly talented or experienced in that department. 

When gentle music began filling the air from that stringed instrument, Beomgyu felt relieved that the people in the room wouldn’t be able to hear him as well. They would probably still hear him choke, but goddammit. He would take what he could get. 

The Golden Man placed a hand on the back of Beomgyu’s head while finally tangling his fingers into the other boy’s head and pulling him off. Just as Beomgyu resigned himself to the idea of sucking dick, just as he waited to be pushed forward, something different happened. The Golden Man turned his head to the side until he was looking at the person who had been pulled off of his dick. It took Beomgyu a few seconds to come back to reality and realize what was going on, but when he did, his eyes widened. 

One of the boys from his village. Beomgyu didn’t even know his name. They had never spoken, they’d just been two of the three to make it this far without dying. With the fact that he had never seen either of the other boys from his village in this room before, he had almost assumed that they were dead or severely injured. 

But this boy, with his doll-like round eyes and pretty face, felt like he had been here for years. When the Golden Man let go of his hair, the boy went straight back to sucking dick as if he didn’t care that Beomgyu was sitting right there. As if he had no shame. Beomgyu only watched for a few moments before the hand on his head dipped underneath his chin and tilted his gaze upwards. 

His eyes met with the Golden Man’s. From this close, he only looked like a boy. Underneath the sharp black color lining his eyes and the insidious golden snake curling around his forehead, he gave off some type of pomp that was hard to place. 

Beomgyu had no idea what the Golden Boy saw when he looked into his face. The gaze was deep, as if it was seeing directly through Beomgyu, and it lasted for far too long. Even as the mouth on his dick was finally getting to him and bringing him to the clear edge, the Golden Boy kept a gradually strengthening grip on Beomgyu’s chin. 

When he finished, he let go. And Beomgyu was about to thankfully slink away to the outskirts of their little group until he saw the Golden Boy pull something from the side of his clothing. He handed the villager a small string of blue beads that the boy then carefully tied around his wrist. It shined under the candlelight of the room every time that boy moved, and attracted the attention of Beomgyu’s gaze. 

It was wrong, wasn’t it, that part of Beomgyu was jealous that he didn’t receive anything. But it was a fleeting emotion of jealousy. Something that he really didn’t need to have. His pride was far more important, and he needed to get out of here.

Unfortunately, they wouldn’t untether him in his room. Beomgyu felt that it had been long enough to earn the right to freedom, but apparently not. That was probably smart on their part, because he was absolutely planning on escaping. This would be a hindrance, but Beomgyu was headstrong enough to still find any way to leave. Even if that way was dangerous. 

He waited until he was back in the room with the other boys. It would be easy to slip by them, as they never paid attention to him. The guards would be more of a struggle, but even they tended to get distracted. Sometimes by the boys in the room and sometimes by their own conversation. Today, it seemed, they were entranced by the instrument one boy played. Beomgyu had to admit that he would have also enjoyed sitting and listening to it, but he had a plan to enact. So, he waited for the guards to set their sights on the other boy and even make their way over to him in order to hear better. And while their heads were turned, Beomgyu slowly and quietly slid through the red curtains that kept the room closed. 

When he was brought here, it was from the right hallway, so he turned to the left when leaving. And this time, instead of walking slowly with the apprehension of a new environment, Beomgyu ran down the hallway as fast as possible. His hands were bound in front of him and he held them up slightly as they hallway curved each direction, just in case he accidentally ate dirt and needed to protect his face from getting smashed on the ground. 

The hallway was much too long and Beomgyu was able to run for a long while without any interruptions. He kept imagining the end and what it would feel like to run to freedom, run to Soobin, and run home, but it did not take long before he ran into someone. This time, however, he continued running even after nearly being knocked over. The person yelled for him, but he did not stop. Beomgyu could hear footsteps pounding behind him, but he still did not stop. He did not even look back.

After only a few more seconds, Beomgyu could see a light in the distance. It seemed that the end of the curved hallway led to the outside, and he almost couldn’t believe it. The bright yellow glare of the sun burned into his eyes as if he had never seen it before, but Beomgyu didn’t shy away. He didn’t narrow his eyes or hide his gaze, instead soaking up the sensitivity and preparing his body to be fully drenched in nature once more. 

But it seemed that nature did not want him back. Dark shapes stood in front of the light that Beomgyu was attempting to reach. They became larger, shadowing his face from the freedom he had been approaching, and they quickly moved closer. Within seconds, he could make out the figures of multiple guards rushing at him from their post and it made him stop in his tracks. He turned around to see the previous guard running toward him as well, and Beomgyu knew he was trapped. He fruitlessly looked up and to the sides, but there was nothing except for the walls. Nothing at all.

And so he stood with his eyes closed and waited for the men to reach him. 

When they did, they harshly grabbed Beomgyu’s bound arms and dragged him back down the way he had come. Luckily, these men were not invested in his bad behavior, and didn’t have much reason to do anything sadistic or reprimanding to him. But it wasn’t over. By the end of his punishment, Beomgyu would certainly wish he had never run away in the first place.

Chapter Text

When Beomgyu was caught by the guards, he fully expected to be punished again. His intentions of escaping were much clearer now than they had been the first time, when he had barely gotten a few steps down a nearby hallway, and his punishment had been fierce then. For nearly making it out of this huge place, he couldn’t imagine what the punishment would be. Would ten lashes turn into twenty or thirty? Would they break his skin enough to scar? Would he no longer be useful for what they had brought him for? The fear of being murdered or sent to work until he died had now come back at full force and he almost wished he had just stayed in the golden room and taken whatever was coming his direction. 

But no. He didn’t want to be a sex slave. Or maybe yes. Because a life without labor was better than one with labor, right? For most of the time, Beomgyu could remain unbothered if he sucked a dick occasionally. 

Ultimately, he couldn’t come to a solid conclusion. Each side had positives and negatives that equalized themselves in the end. 

But he was soon to learn that even if he had made a choice, it didn’t matter. His choice would be made for him from this point onwards. 

As soon as the men with spears caught him, Beomgyu was taken back to his room and tied up for the night. It left him with a strange feeling of foreboding and the anxious anticipation of being beaten once more. That was part of the punishment, he supposed. To be left waiting for the pain when he could already be healing from it. Throughout the night, he didn’t sleep. Beomgyu wondered what laws this land had. Were they as sophisticated as their land seemed? Or were they more barbaric than the men who had ransacked Beomgyu’s village? Admittedly, he didn’t know many laws from his own country other than the punishment for stealing, adultery, and murder, but they were always very harsh. Being beaten with a stick was the most common, and Beomgyu had seen it happen many times, but there had also been instances of crushing legs, permanently marking one’s face, cutting off small limbs such as the ears or fingertips, and crushing under heavy stones. Again, Beomgyu felt regretful of attempting to run away. 

Where exactly would he have gone if he had gotten out, anyway? Idiot.

After a night without sleep, someone eventually came to Beomgyu’s room. It was another spearman with expressionless eyes and unmoving lips. Unlike the others, these men never even attempted to speak with Beomgyu, which was a bit of a relief. It made him feel rude to be unable to answer, but he assumed the rest just enjoyed hearing themselves speak. 

The spearman undid the knot that kept Beomgyu’s hands bound to the hook on the wall, but left them bound together with the rope hanging down like a lead. Beomgyu watched and waited to be led out of the bed instead of taking the initiative to do it himself. Maybe it was a type of self-preservation, a show that he was going to be obedient from now on, but it was probably in vain. Beomgyu didn’t get the idea that this man was anything more than a worker in this place, and most likely had no influence in whatever happened to him. 

The spearman stepped back and tugged on the rope, pulling Beomgyu’s bound hands forward a bit. Taking that as a sign to move, he finally slid off the bed and easily stood on the ground beside it. Then, when he was tugged again, Beomgyu followed. 

They traveled a familiar path, and Beomgyu couldn’t help but be surprised. For a few minutes, he wondered if there would be no punishment for him and if he could really just return to the golden room without any problems. Maybe sex slaves had privileges like that. Maybe he should begin to appreciate this life from now on. Yes, he needed to change his perception of this place; if they were going to treat him well, then he needed to take the opportunity. 

When the man led him into the golden room, he brought Beomgyu to one of the side walls and dropped the rope. It wasn’t the same place Beomgyu usually sat in, but he didn’t expect them to remember much about a peasant like him, anyway. He looked down at the floor, about to sit, but hesitated when he felt eyes on him. The rest of the boys in the room had stopped their activities and were beginning to move toward him. Beomgyu didn’t know what was happening, so he did nothing but stand and watch as they began to create a small enclosed circle around him. Once they did, there was no visible path through them; some were even linking arms. 

Their expressions varied from passive to angry, but none wore a smile. That was enough to tell Beomgyu something bad was going to happen. And it did.

It started with a boy in the center. He was holding one of those little metal cups that typically sat in the sand. It held black liquid inside that Beomgyu could smell now that he was in its proximity. It smelled bitter, earthy, and heavy. Like the opposite of water. It wasn’t something Beomgyu would want to drink, he thought, but in the next second the boy had lifted it and thrown the liquid over Beomgyu’s face. It was a bit warm, but Beomgyu flinched backwards more due to the surprise than anything else. In fact, he was about to fight back before he saw someone else throw some type of red liquid on him and then it was a free-for-all. Each boy began throwing paint, drinks, and other things he couldn’t discern. Some reached forward and squished fruits onto his chest, arms, and face, and the swarm of hands was just too much for Beomgyu to bat away. He could only block a small portion of stuff from getting on him, but the rest of his body was left open for them to defile. 

The boys continued for what felt like an hour to Beomgyu, yelling things in their strange language the entire time. He said nothing in return, not a single yelp, whine, or whimper. Not only was there no point, but he felt a sense of pride at the fact that he didn’t further humiliate himself. 

Eventually they stopped, leaving Beomgyu in a puddle of mixed liquids and foods. The white cloth covering his body was ruined in colors of brown, red, orange, and green. There was some type of pink mush clumped on various parts of his shoulders and neck, and the stringy bits of a banana peel stuck onto his arms and hands. He couldn’t really pick them off due to his hands still being bound together, but he shook his head a bit to at least get it out of his hair. 

It was annoying, but he could deal with it. 

Some of the boys moved to allow the same spearmen through. He wordlessly grabbed the end of the rope and began leading Beomgyu back out of the room. That was a bit of a surprise, too. He had expected for his public humiliation to continue. Maybe they would leave him in this room full of pompous noble whores and allow them to continue throwing food at him as he fermented in the corner under the gross heat of this empire. But no. It was a bit of a relief when they exited, because Beomgyu wanted to go ahead and shower and be alone, anyway. 

But the spearman didn’t seem to have the same intentions. He began taking Beomgyu down an unfamiliar hallway. The boy didn’t say or do anything, because he knew there was nothing he could say or do. He simply followed in the man’s footsteps, nervously swallowing as they approached a larger room. 

The new room they entered was beautiful. It was filled to the brim with white stones, golden trim, and colorful paintings of humans and animals on each wall. There were columns of pure gold, draperies of a blue as dark as a stormy sky, and ivory statues of faces and bodies. The luxor momentarily took Beomgyu’s mind off of his current predicament, but the spearman didn’t seem to notice or care about the beauty of this place. He simply continued walking without a flinch and pulled Beomgyu along behind him. 

At the front of the room lay a small opening to the outside world. A large square of the sun’s rays entered through it and left its imprint on the entryway’s floor. It was incredibly bright, almost as bright as the white of the walls. Beomgyu narrowed his eyes as they came closer to it, and eventually closed them completely once they exited through. He had gone so long without sunlight that it now felt incredibly overbearing. It was brighter than the clearest summer day in his village, brighter than anything he had ever seen, really. But with the exhaustion of his travel, he must not have noticed on the first day he arrived here. 

They walked down the sandy stone stairs and a brief breeze hit Beomgyu’s cheeks. The mixture of liquid on his face allowed the air to stick and cool him down from the previous heat. It reminded him a bit of when he and Soobin would take a dip in the ocean during summertime to take an edge off of the summer sun. Maybe he was a bit grateful for what those boys had done. 

He took in a deep breath, ignoring the few stares he got from surrounding spearmen, and looked at the architecture of this place. The stairs to enter were not as high as he had originally thought when first climbing them. But he could still see the entire city below. As far as he could see, there were small people walking around in their white dresses and skirts. Most had black hair, but some had yellow or brown. It was so different to what Beomgyu had seen before and he couldn’t help but stare at those strange-looking people. As they came to the bottom of the stairs, the sandy colored stone turned into a solid white flat ground. The man tugged on the rope attached to Beomgyu’s bound hands and they continued forward. 

Walking back through the extended marketplace was an interesting experience. Now that there were no horsemen to obscure Beomgyu’s vision, he could see everything in so much more detail. There were colorful carts with goods on top and shopkeepers out front, yelling and holding them up in an attempt to find a buyer. That was a familiar sight to Beomgyu, as he had once been the person trying to sell fish to passersby. But these people sold trinkets of gold, pots and bowls of blue, white clothing with bands of red around the hem, and all sorts of luxuries Beomgyu had never been able to afford. The closest he could come was holding Soobin’s parasols before they were inevitably sold, but he couldn’t see anyone selling those here. With a sun so bright and hot, Beomgyu found it a bit strange. 

A gust of wind blew by again, bringing particles of sand crashing into his skin. It was a lot less pleasant than it had been when he was standing at the top of the stairs. His skin quickly became itchy, but he could only rub the rough corroded edges of rope around his wrists on his thighs to scratch it. Everywhere else would just have to deal with it. 

Looking back at the market, Beomgyu was still in awe. There were some people sitting on wooden stumps, their feet kicking into piles of some light, sticky but firm looking substance. It almost looked like the mashed rice he had seen at his village’s marketplace. Another person was stomping into a bucket of red fruits until they mushed into a liquid-y texture. It made Beomgyu grimace. He wasn’t even close to being a nobleman, but he would never want to eat something that had been made by someone else’s feet. Not after seeing Old Man Mae’s foot fungus, at least. 

One thing that interested Beomgyu greatly was how the shopkeepers seemed to be a majority women. Those walking about and buying items consisted of both women and men, but not the sellers. Strange.

It didn’t feel like very long before they reached the end of the marketplace and Beomgyu was so zoned out that he nearly knocked into the spearman when he suddenly turned around. His eyes traveled down Beomgyu’s form and frowned. But why? Had he forgotten that Beomgyu was a mess? Huh, Beomgyu had nearly forgotten that fact, himself. Actually, he hadn’t really noticed until now that the people around them were staring at him a bit. 

Well that was understandable. They all looked pristine with their white dresses, brushed hair, golden rings, and woven shoes. Beomgyu had become sticky with the juices and his skin felt a bit like fish scales after the sand had gotten lodged in it. The difference was just that he didn’t really care. 

Even he had been paraded around his village after getting caught walking over freshly planted vegetable seeds, and that was in front of his own people. People who had known him since he was a baby and would know him for the rest of his life. 

In front of these people? Pah. Who cared.

The spearman only stared at Beomgyu for a moment before slightly shrugging his shoulders and walking right back down the street and back toward the big building they had come from. Beomgyu was a bit more perceptive to the amount of eyes on him now, but still ignored them. Instead, he looked out at the big triangles in the distance, far enough away to be covered in a thin veil of fog.

“Hyung, what do I look like?”

Beomgyu stared up at the ceiling of his and Soobin’s home. He could see tiny specks of the night sky through the straw they had placed on top. It was thickly layered, but still not enough to completely cover them. That was alright, though. Beomgyu found that he slept better with a small amount of light. He didn’t know why, considering his childhood home had been covered so completely that he couldn’t even see his own hand at night. But he supposed it was only human nature. 

“Hm?” Soobin asked, his voice a bit groggy. He sounded as though he had been close to sleeping when Beomgyu asked, and it made him feel a bit guilty, but he repeated himself anyway. 

“What do I look like?”

There was a small rustling sound before Beomgyu felt Soobin’s hand touch his own. It was only the smallest graze of fingertips, but he always did that to Beomgyu when he woke in the middle of the night. “Why are you asking that?”

Beomgyu pouted a bit, not getting the immediate answer he wanted. “When I was at the marketplace today, this lady walked through with, like, twenty guards around her. She had a huge, huge, huge hanbok on and it was made from so many different colors…she was looking at me a lot while walking and then she stopped in front of my cart and had her men buy all my fish. I just thought I was being blessed, but then she asked me if I had a wife. When I told her no, she said ‘maybe you can be a consort of the new empress’ and then she laughed, and so did all the men with her.”

When he finished talking, it was silent for long enough that he worried Soobin had fallen back asleep. But soon, a quiet mumble sounded through the home. “...There’s an empress now?”

“Hyung!” Beomgyu whined and pinched his brother’s wrist. “If a lady like that said I could be a royal consort, then doesn’t that mean I’m handsome?”

Soobin lightly laughed and then moved closer toward him. Beomgyu couldn’t tell exactly where his hyung was until he felt a finger poke his nose. “You have a small nose,” and then his bottom lip, “a small mouth,” his eyebrow, “and big eyes.” He then patted Beomgyu’s forehead with the palm of his hand. “You look like mom. And since I’m your brother, you probably look like me, too.”

“Oh God.” Beomgyu childishly filled his voice with as much displeasure as possible and then smiled when Soobin smacked his chest. It wasn’t really true. The only reason Beomgyu could tease Soobin for being ugly was because he wasn’t. Soobin had all of the same features he described Beomgyu as having, anyway, and the mother from his memory was a beautiful and petite woman. So his answer was probably true. Beomgyu was definitely handsome. 

Not even a night had passed before Beomgyu was bothered again. A spearman, possibly a different one this time but he couldn’t really tell, had come to unhook Beomgyu from the wall and lead him down the hallway. He couldn’t tell if it was night or day, but it had been a while since the sun was in the center of the sky. Beomgyu had been bathed, scrubbed, and redressed, and now he felt soft again. If they had really wanted to torture him, they could have made him sleep with the nasty mixture all over his skin. That would have upset him. 

Once again, he was led down an unrecognizable hallway. And once again, the fear of being murdered entered his mind. But at this point, he wondered if it was an unneeded fear. If even the attempt of escaping multiple times did not lead to him losing a body part, then he couldn’t imagine that they would kill him for much of any reason. But still, Beomgyu kept his eyes and ears open, looking at every room and person they passed as if it would give him any understanding. 

The spearman stopped in front of a room, said something to Beomgyu, and then dropped his rope. Yes, this must have been a different person than previously; the other man never would have spoken to Beomgyu. 

The boy looked at the spearman and then to the doorway, which was covered by a large, dark red piece of fabric. The man motioned towards it with his hand and Beomgyu hesitantly stepped forward, pushing the fabric aside with his bound hands and walking into the room while the spearman stayed outside. 

The sight he was met with was just as grand as the rest of this place. The walls were made of the same sandy color as the front entrance’s stairs, but there were torches hanging from the walls with some kind of gold-painted film over them that doused the entire room in a light golden hue. One wall was nothing but a painting of figures, outlined in black ink, that seemed to be riding over the ocean in boats. Directly opposite from that wall was a large bed. The one in Beomgyu’s room was hardly large enough to hold anything other than himself, but this one was at least…as long as ten Beomgyus laying next to each other. 

On top of that bed were two people. One was the Golden Boy, dressed in his signature garb. He smiled as soon as he laid eyes on Beomgyu, but his counterpart did not seem so happy. It was one of the boys who crushed some kind of pink fruit over Beomgyu’s cheek and down his chest. He frowned, sitting naked where the Golden Boy was dressed, but Beomgyu didn’t return it. Because fuck him. 

“Ah, Heraclides.” The Golden Boy stood from the bed and walked toward Beomgyu. When he placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, Beomgyu could feel the coolness of his finger-rings against his hot skin. The Golden Boy spoke to him, but Beomgyu couldn’t understand. He simply allowed himself to be led toward the corner of the room and sat down in a brown, woven chair. It seemed a bit out of place here, but Beomgyu wouldn’t complain when it was soft against his butt.

The Golden Boy only stayed in front of him for a moment before turning back to the bed, which Beomgyu was now perpendicularly facing. His hands stayed bound in his lap, but there was nothing else rooting him to the spot. It seemed strange, he thought, after his clear reputation of running away. Shouldn’t they want him to be tied down just as he was in his own bedroom?

But he wouldn’t draw attention to the freedom. It was actually pretty nice to not feel so stifled and locked up, even though he knew there were still invisible chains keeping him to this chair. 

The harem boy immediately latched onto The Golden Boy once he was on the bed. He pressed his nose to the boy’s cheek and spread his legs with a smile. From this position, Beomgyu could see everything. No offense, but his dick was bigger than that of the harem boy. It brought a tiny smile to his face, but that disappeared as soon as he realized The Golden Boy’s eyes were watching him. Only for a second, though, as they returned to the harem boy below. The two continued that strange ritual of pressing noses against each other before the Golden Boy reached down and pressed his finger inside the other. Beomgyu’s eyes widened at the action, simultaneously grossed out while morbidly curious. 

There was no way he would put his - oh, no, he was putting his dick in there. 

The harem boy groaned when it went in. He arched his back, placed his hands over the Golden Boy’s shoulders, and breathed as if he had gotten pinched by a crab. Beomgyu had never been married, but he still knew what sex was. Or at least he thought he did. The sight in front of him was throwing him for a loop and he couldn’t decide if he wanted to stare or look away. When the Golden Boy’s thrusts became faster, the jewelry on his body began to tremble and shake with the movement. They sparkled under the torches’ lights and Beomgyu found himself more fascinated with them than he was with the loud moans of that harem boy. He groaned, he sighed, he spoke in a strange language, and he pressed his nose against the Golden Boy’s cheeks, and Beomgyu supposed he would have felt more attraction to the scene if he weren’t so distracted by everything around him. The deep red cloth covering the bed looked so soft to touch and the little thread with sparkling white rocks on it that hung from a hook on the wall next to him was truly calling his name. There were so many things he wanted to touch and inspect and simply roll around in his hand. Resisting the urge was taking so much strength that he could hardly pretend to pay attention to what was happening in front of him. 

That was, until the harem boy let out a loud groan. Beomgyu looked over to him, and the boy had orgasmed over his own chest. The Golden Boy had both hands tightly gripped onto his waist and his movements stilled for a few moments before he sat back on his knees, his dick slipping out at the action. It shined under the bedroom’s lights, sparkling just like the gems Beomgyu had been admiring. The connection made him smile once again, just as the Golden Boy turned to look at him. His white dress fell back over his length when he sat up, but Beomgyu couldn’t get the image out of his mind. 

However, having the Golden Boy’s full attention on him was nerve-wracking. His eyes were sharply lined with black and it only made his gaze deceptively intimidating and almost as mysterious as if he were wearing a mask. He stood from the bed and took the few steps to Beomgyu, peering down at him. 

“Δεν φοβάσαι?” He asked, his head slightly cocked to the side. “Τι σε τρομάζει, αγοράκι όμορφο?” 

“Φαραώ, αυτό το αγόρι είναι αμόρφωτο.” The boy on the bed spoke a long and enunciated sentence. It wasn’t as smooth or fast as the Golden Boy, but it still surprised Beomgyu to hear. There were some sounds in this language that he had never heard come from a human’s mouth before, some that were definitely not present in Korean. And yet, somehow, this boy could manage them. 

The Golden Boy hummed, still staring down at Beomgyu. He ran a hand through the boy’s black hair, pushing it up until his forehead was exposed. He then used his free hand to place under Beomgyu’s chin, tilting his head from side to side as if inspecting him. He spoke again and the harem boy immediately slid off the bed and pulled his usual white dress over his head. With the Golden Boy’s gaze so fixated on Beomgyu, he didn’t see the dirty look sent in their direction. That was fine. Beomgyu didn’t care, either. Once the boy left, he dragged his eyes up to the Golden Boy, meeting the intense stare. 

However, that didn’t seem to be the correct move. The Golden Boy immediately used his hand in Beomgyu’s hair to push his face down until his eyes had settled on the floor. For a moment, Beomgyu was fearful that he would be made to put his mouth on the man’s cock after what had just happened, but thankfully the man did not lift his dress. Instead, he grabbed Beomgyu’s rope and pulled him into a standing position before pushing him out of the door as well.

A few nights later, Beomgyu was requested again. His day-to-day life was extremely boring and he was almost happy to be brought back to the Golden Boy. Yes, the room with the other boys was very luxurious and pretty in design, but it didn’t have the same sparkle and opulence of the Golden Boy’s personal room. It was also incredibly mind-numbing to sit in a room for several hours and listen to the other boys do activities while he stared at the wall. There were a few words he heard over and over, but he didn’t know the meaning of them yet. Though he would love to learn this language just to escape the constant state of confusion, it seemed like a dream that would never be realized. But at least the Golden Boy had shiny trinkets. 

“Heraclides.”

Beomgyu didn’t know what it meant, but that was the same word the Golden Boy had used when he called Beomgyu to his room for the first time. Maybe it meant ‘hello?’ Beomgyu bowed his head in response, but the Golden Boy just stared at him before turning back to what he had been doing.

He was standing in front of some large bowl-looking thing within a room Beomgyu had never seen before. It was dark, with only a single bare torch in each corner of the room. The bowl was made from a white stone as tall as Beomgyu’s chest and as wide as two of his market carts side-by-side. There was a strange noise coming from within, but the Golden Boy seemed to look down into it with no fear. 

After a while of waiting in the threshold to the room, Beomgyu began to walk forward. He only made it about two steps before the Golden Boy turned and held his hand up, palm out, making Beomgyu stop in his tracks and slowly back up until he was where he had started. Once he did, the other boy turned back to his giant bowl and continued ignoring Beomgyu. He had no idea what was happening or what he was supposed to do; it was really annoying.

A long while passed before the Golden Boy finally turned to Beomgyu and ushered him forward. It was only then that Beomgyu realized nobody had been watching him and he could have run away. Or maybe not. That probably was not a good idea anymore. 

“Heraclides.” The Golden Boy said again, and Beomgyu had no idea what it meant at this point. Period. He wordlessly stood next to the Golden Boy and looked down into the bowl. It was then he understood what the noise he could hear from across the room was. There were many beetles crawling on top of each other, up the sides, and then sliding down. Their hard shells knocked against one another and their ribbed feet pattered against the hard surfaces. They were tiny and look pretty similar to the beetles Beomgyu had seen in his village before. The only difference was that these had pretty, colorful shells of green and blue ombre that were only further brightened by the torches’ simmering light. 

Beomgyu would have turned to look at the Golden Boy in confusion, but that didn’t seem to be something he was allowed to do, so he simply stared down at the bugs. The only thing he didn’t really like about them was the little pieces of hair coming off of their legs and faces. Actually, yes, he hated that. 

And of course, as soon as the thought crossed his mind, the Golden Boy decided to grab Beomgyu’s closest arm and thrust his hands down into the pile of bugs. His eyes widened as the crawling feeling immediately hit his senses. As he looked down, both of his bound hands were completely submerged into the pile, and a few began crawling up his arms. They tensed with the feeling of tiny legs over his light hairs and Beomgyu had to close his eyes to prevent himself from freaking out. He wasn’t even scared of beetles , it was just human to not want something crawling on him. Still, he had to gulp before opening his eyes again to see that one had crawled almost entirely up to his shoulder. 

And the Golden Boy was closely watching his facial expression at every second. Beomgyu could see it out of the corner of his eye, and the irritation made him refuse to give any reaction, not that he had given much anyway. 

Soon, the Golden Boy let go of his arm and Beomgyu hesitated for a few moments before giving his hands one large swing and flinging many of the bugs back into the pile. The Golden Boy gasped and stared at him with big eyes, and Beomgyu immediately stopped all movements. He was internally preparing himself for the biggest ass-beating of his life, but then the Golden Boy started laughing. He placed a hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder and when he brought it away, there was a beetle resting on his fingers. In the next second, he threw it against the farthest edge of the pot and there was a loud crunch before it fell back inside and stopped moving. 

At first, Beomgyu was shocked. Shocked and confused. His mouth hung open a bit and his eyes were wide. But hearing the Golden Boy laugh at his own bug-murder made Beomgyu nervously laugh alongside him. Well, it was kind of funny. But mostly confusing. Just like everything else that had happened ever since being kidnapped.

After the noise died down, the Golden Boy turned Beomgyu by the shoulder until they were facing each other. Beomgyu didn’t look him in the eyes, and instead kept his gaze on the boy’s neck. It worked out since that was his natural line of sight, and really, he had never met anyone as tall as his brother, but this guy might just be the same height. It made Beomgyu feel a bit tiny, even though he was taller than most other people he knew. 

The Golden Boy pointed at Beomgyu’s chest. “Heraclides.” He repeated, and it reminded Beomgyu a bit of how mothers would teach their children their names. The realization made Beomgyu’s eyebrows shoot up. Of course this boy didn’t know his name. Beomgyu didn’t even know his.  

Heraclides…hm.

Still, Beomgyu nodded and then hesitantly pointed at the Golden Boy’s chest. The boy placed a palm flat over his own chest at the motion and smiled. “Pharaoh.”

Pharaoh. Beomgyu had heard that word before. It had a strange sound at the beginning that he had never heard before and he was sure he wouldn’t be able to pronounce it well. How disappointing, he thought. He could never learn this language if he couldn’t even speak the basics. 

The Golden Boy said something else and then pulled out a little red thing from his pocket. It was as clear as glass, as red as his bedsheets, and as sparkling as the gold on his headband. Beomgyu had never seen anything like it. It was about half the size of his palm, but looked tiny in the hands of the pharaoh. He held it in front of Beomgyu’s face, and Beomgyu was so completely mesmerized that he barely noticed how the boy was moving it back and forth just to see how Beomgyu’s eyes tracked it. 

With one final incomprehensible word, the pharaoh placed it into Beomgyu’s hands and pressed his fingers closed around it. When he let go, Beomgyu was holding so tight that his knuckles had turned white. The sight made the pharaoh smile, and he patted Beomgyu on the head before tugging him out of the room by his rope. 

Chapter Text

For days, Beomgyu spent his spare time staring at the red crystal he had been given. He carried it with him wherever he went in order to protect it from thieves; under his pillow at night, in his fists during the day, and even when he was being bathed, he kept it. Every time he was brought to sit in the harem room, he kept it in his grip, hoping nobody would be able to see it. He didn’t trust any of them. He never had, even since the first time he met them, and he certainly didn’t after they had all thrown food and drinks over him as humiliation. That boy who had been in the Pharaoh’s room, fucked in front of Beomgyu, he still looked at the boy with anger in his eyes. And it didn’t make any sense, because Beomgyu catching the Pharaoh’s attention was a good thing; it meant that boy wouldn’t have to deal with him as much. 

But…

Beomgyu gripped the red crystal a bit tighter. Maybe he wanted to see the Pharaoh again, too. If it was as easy as touching a beetle, then he wanted to get more shiny things like this. 

While sitting in the corner of the harem room, bored out of his mind, Beomgyu finally saw someone approach him. He took in a breath, slightly puffing out his chest and getting ready for an altercation. His hands were still bound and that would pose a certain disadvantage, but he was not afraid to get dirty. Still, Beomgyu glanced over at the spearmen, who were engrossed in their own conversations. But his eyes dragged away from them when the other boy slid down the wall to sit next to him with a sigh. 

They were both silent for a long time, simply looking out at the other harem boys. Beomgyu was doing his best not to make eye-contact while the other seemed more relaxed. He had to wonder if there were rules against making eye-contact with each other, or only with the Pharaoh, but Beomgyu didn’t want to risk any chance of being punished again. So he stared forward. That was, at least, until the other boy spoke. 

“I heard you’re mute.” At first, Beomgyu almost didn’t remember his own language and he didn’t quite realize he had understood what was being said. But after a few seconds, his eyebrows rose up into the hair draping over his forehead. “You look like one of the boys from my neighboring village, but I can’t remember.” For a few seconds, the boy’s eyes landed on him, studying his features, but he then turned to face forward again. “Even if you’re not, it’s okay if I pretend, right? I tried learning how they talk here, but it’s really…lonely, I guess.”

To be honest, Beomgyu had never thought of himself as mute in this land. There was simply no reason for him to speak if nobody could understand him. Sure, he could have told the Pharaoh his real name, but he probably would not have cared. Beomgyu was essentially property at this point. 

Now that he had been approached by someone who spoke the same language as he did, Beomyu had the urge to speak again. But the boy kept rambling on and on, not leaving a moment for Beomgyu to speak. 

“I understand some words because I forced those boys to teach me, but it’s so different from what I already know. I think it’ll be a long time before I can speak like any of them. I just memorize random objects right now, but the grammar is…”

Beomgyu shifted his eyes toward the boy, and sure enough, it was the one who had been between the Pharaoh’s legs when Beomgyu was forced to watch the blowjob. The memory made him gulp and look down at the rope on his wrists, not missing the golden band which adorned the boy’s bicep. Beomgyu didn’t have any flashy clothing or accessories like the other boys had, he was still dressed in the same simple white cloth as he had been from the beginning. It seemed to be a visible mark of who had spent the most time with the Pharaoh, who was most in favor. And right now, Beomgyu was a sore fucking loser.

One boy in the room was decked out with golden rings around his neck, arms, and fingers, more than any of the other boys. But even so, he didn’t even come close to the spectacle of the Pharaoh. It made Beomgyu curious to know just who that man was, where they were, and…well, everything else. Beomgyu wanted to know literally anything. 

But this boy that had been brought in with Beomgyu, he didn’t seem to know anything, either. His woes were all of confusion and misunderstandings, homesickness and dissatisfaction. It was everything Beomgyu already felt and everything he already knew. There was not much he could add. 

A few days passed before Beomgyu was brought out of his room again. He assumed it was nighttime, but who knew. The spearman led him down to the Pharaoh’s personal bedroom, and again, they were not alone. One of the harem boys was sitting on a chair by the wall and facing toward the center of the room. He had a small table set up in front of him with a block of wood and a little white rectangle that held several assorted colors of ink. When Beomgyu entered the room, the boy’s eyes widened for a moment, but he ultimately looked back down. 

The Pharaoh was standing next to him with one hand on his shoulder and a glass of dark liquid in his other. Instead of approaching Beomgyu, as he had done last time, he simply motioned toward the empty space in front of them. The liquid sloshed in his cup as he did so, licking the top edge of the cup and dangerously close to dripping out. Beomgyu eyed it with curiosity for a moment before walking to the place he had been ordered to. There was a small red rug in front of the bed, but it almost looked orange under the golden glow of the room’s lights. Beomgyu’s toes curled into its softness, and he kind of wanted to rub his cheek on it, too. One small glance at the bed, and Beomgyu wondered if it was as soft as the rug. When he looked back to the two men, he belatedly realized the Pharaoh had been following his gaze. 

Finally, the boy stepped forward until he was directly in front of Beomgyu, looking down at him. In Beomgyu’s village, his family had been much taller than average, but this pharaoh made him feel small. Accompanied with the fact that he wasn’t allowed to look at the man’s face, Beomgyu felt subordinate in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. He had always known his place in society was below the warlords, emperors, and gods, but he had been so far removed from them that it was never apparent. It never really crossed his mind how different he was from someone blessed by birth, not until now. 

But somehow, he didn’t really mind it. Somehow, his life had improved a bit since coming here. He didn’t work, he didn’t worry about food, he didn’t worry about selling his wares, he didn’t even have to worry about his friends and family being hurt since he didn’t have any anymore. It was strangely relaxing. 

The pharaoh lifted his glass of red liquid to Beomgyu’s lips and placed the palm of his other hand around the boy’s throat. He opted to leave his hand simply sitting on the skin rather than pressing down with any force, and Beomgyu could feel the coolness of his rings juxtaposing against the warmth of his fingers. As he tilted the glass, the liquid slid up its untouched sides and towards Beomgyu’s lips. Without being told, he opened his mouth and allowed the liquid to enter but cringed as soon as it touched his tongue. Warm, bitter, and extremely sour, he unintentionally coughed a bit and cringed once more when he felt it running down his chin. 

The pharaoh stared down at him with an unmoving expression, tightening his grip on Beomgyu’s chin when he tried to pull away. He said something in that foreign language before tilting the cup back farther, emptying it into Beomgyu’s mouth and then quickly placing the cup down and closing his hand over Beomgyu’s lips. 

Unable to spit it out and unwilling to fight, Beomgyu forced himself to swallow. The pharaoh’s eyes lingered on his throat for a few seconds, watching the bob move up and down before looking back into Beomgyu’s eyes. The boy kept his eyes down, refusing to meet the gaze, but he wasn’t sure if that was what he was supposed to do or not. He didn’t react when the pharaoh placed a thumb on his chin and gently pulled down, parting his lips and checking that he had swallowed the drink. Once satisfied, he gave Beomgyu a small smile and allowed him to tilt his head back down to the ground. Immediately, the pharaoh’s hands traveled to one of the golden belts around his waist that kept his figure cinched. Once he untied it, the white fabric of his dress pooled out a bit more and removed a bit of his stuffy image. 

Beomgyu’s first reaction was to be afraid that the pharaoh was undressing in order to do something sexual to him, but he had never needed to take his belt off before. It was high enough that he simply lifted the bottom of his dress and made easy access. 

He tried not to follow the pharaoh’s hands as they moved up into his vision. But eventually, the question of where to look was no longer existent when the pharaoh wrapped his cloth belt around Beomgyu’s eyes and tied it over the back of his head. He felt the boy’s hand pat down any rogue hairs that had puffed up above the knot, and then they were traveling down the sides of his face, neck, and shoulders, tracing every piece of available skin as if he would never see it again. Once his hands were on Beomgyu’s shoulders, he pressed down a bit, bringing the boy to his knees on the soft rug. He then slowly nudged the fabric off his shoulders until it pooled around Beomgyu’s waist, just barely covering his crotch. 

The touch immediately left, and Beomgyu could hear footsteps across the room. Even with most of his skin bare, Beomgyu felt hot. There was a strange acidic burn running down his throat and chest, and he had to wonder what exactly he had been forced to drink. It was filling his stomach in an uncomfortable way, making him somewhat nauseous. Beomgyu was grossly reminded of the time he had eaten a beached, slimy fish after eating nothing in nearly a week. Even the memory of how many times he had thrown up afterwards was enough to make his mouth sweat a bit. 

Hands returned to his skin, this time on his thighs, and began wrapping. Beomgyu recognized the feeling of rope against his skin, though it seemed to be thinner and softer than what was holding his wrists together. The pharaoh lifted his calf a bit and wrapped the rope underneath it before returning to the top of his thigh, effectively tying the two limbs together with only the tip of his knee poking out. The wrapping didn’t stop until most of his thigh had been covered, ending at the hem of his dress. With one last pull of the rope, the pharaoh connected the top of Beomgyu’s thigh with the center of his foot and moved on to his other leg.

The room remained in silence, but the pharaoh moved quickly enough that Beomgyu barely noticed. His eyes remained open behind the cloth and widened a bit when he felt the boy remove his wrist restraints. The happiness in having free hands was brief, though. By the time a rope was being tied across his chest, cinching his arms down straight until they couldn’t move, Beomgyu’s lips were a bit numb and his head felt dizzy. His mind kept worrying that he had been poisoned and would finally be murdered. After all, it was easy to kill someone if you weakened them first. 

The last thing the pharaoh did was tie Beomgyu’s wrists to his ankles. It was a bit of an awkward position and it forced Beomgyu into a presentable posture; back straight, shoulders at a 90-degree angle, and arms straight down his sides. The rope was tight and abrasive, leaving little red marks on the skin underneath, but it only made him unknowingly prettier. 

Beomgyu let out a small breath when the pharaoh’s touch left him, hoping he could stay in this position for a while longer and survive. Suddenly something cold was draped over Beomgyu’s shoulders and he shrunk down in an attempt to get away from it. It was essentially useless, as the thing dropped on top of him anyway. His mind registered the object in steps. First, that it was a large, cold string of jewels that the pharaoh was gifting him for being obedient. Once it began moving, he thought it must have been a thick and wet rope that the pharaoh would use to tie him up further. But once he heard a hiss, Beomgyu realized what was on him. 

The hiss was high-pitched, long and drawn out. In the silence of the room, it resonated and vibrated through Beomgyu’s bones. He had seen many snakes in his homeland and he could even tell the difference between which types were docile and which would mean a certain death if bothered. The problem came that without his sight, he had no idea which one was on him right now. Without any way to run away or even get the snake off him, Beomgyu settled on becoming as still as possible. Every muscle in his body froze, his skin becoming so cold that the snake began to feel like the same temperature as him. 

Beomgyu heard the pharaoh laugh and say something, to which another voice responded. He had honestly forgotten that one of the harem boys was also present, and it added another layer of confusion to the situation. But though Beomgyu’s hope to understand them was fruitless, it was better than focusing on the thing sliding over his shoulders right now. And that thing was thick, scaly, and gross with the way it slithered over his skin. After a few seconds, it dropped down into his lap and Beomgyu couldn’t stop the squeaking noise he made when it did. As he was expecting, there was a bout of laughter from both parties present and it irritated him, but there was nothing he could do. 

The pharaoh came back and placed the snake around his neck again, curling its tail around his throat in order to keep it in place longer. Immediately afterwards, he pressed a cool glass to Beomgyu’s lips, tilting his head back again so he could drink more of the bitter and sour liquid. Again, he nearly choked on it, but swallowed what he was given anyway. The pharaoh patted his head afterwards, but Beomgyu didn’t like it. The longer he sat here, the more confused and angry he became. At least while lingering in the harem room, he could zone off into his own world and ignore how completely lost he was, but in front of the pharaoh, his alienation took center stage. 

Finally, he was left alone for a long while. The snake didn’t move much from around his neck, only occasionally hissing and lifting its head to look around the room. It was the only sound aside from hushed chattering from the other two people present in the room.Strangely, as time went on, Beomgyu thought he could pick out a few words from his mother language. He knew it wasn’t possible, but it still felt real. His ears were getting a bit fuzzy and his brain was struggling to think linearly. 

With a sigh, his back hunched a bit, leaning forward in drowsiness. Beomgyu’s eyes closed behind the fabric covering them and he really wanted to fall asleep right here and now. Fortunately, he wasn’t reprimanded for dropping his posture, but he did hear the pharaoh giggle again. It could have been due to his posture or their strange conversation, he didn’t know and he didn’t really care anymore. 

He had truly almost fallen asleep at one point, but was woken up by the feeling of a hand on his head. The pharaoh pulled his belt from Beomgyu’s eyes, untied the cloth, and then wrapped it back around his own waist. The room felt bright in Beomgyu’s frowning eyes, but he blinked a few times in an attempt to adjust. Once he did, he noticed the room was moving a bit. Every time he left his gaze stationary, the items around him shifted until he either blinked or shifted his gaze. It was a bit difficult to get adjusted to, but once he did, he realized the other harem boy had left him alone with the pharaoh. 

Beomgyu watched as the boy kneeled in front of him, his hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder and dangerously close to the snake resting there. He said something, something Beomgyu had heard from his mouth many times before, though he didn’t know what it meant. And then he slid his hand down Beomgyu’s torso and to the cloth pooled around his hips. It was easy for the pharaoh to reach inside without even looking, and when he grabbed Beomgyu’s cock, the boy felt weird. It was hard to dislike what was happening. His muscles wanted to stiffen under the cloud of confusion, but the drink had made him tired, weak, and unable to do much of anything with the rope still binding him. 

He glanced up to the pharaoh’s eyes and then immediately back down. He could still feel how strong the boy’s gaze was, but couldn’t possibly meet it. It was even a bit terrifying, to be honest. Every time the pharaoh stared at him like that, Beomgyu felt like nothing more than an object. Like the pretty gem he still had clenched in his hand. 

The pharaoh gripped Beomgyu’s cock at the base and dragged up slowly before going back down. He repeated the action a few times, not taking particular care to thumb at the tip or swipe across his frenulum. It was the most basic of actions, but Beomgyu’s heart was still racing from the fear and confusion and all the blood rushing through his body must have gone straight to his dick because it took him less than a minute to get hard. It was unbearable for Beomgyu to look at his own dick, but just as impossible to look up at the pharaoh. In the end, he closed his eyes, but felt a hand on his neck almost immediately pushing his head upwards. 

When he opened his eyes again, the boy was pouting in just the smallest amount. He focused on the slight downturn of lips instead of the pretty, black-rimmed eyes directly in front of him, but it was difficult. The only thing he was sure of in this place was that he shouldn’t look this boy in the eyes, and with everything else being a guessing game, Beomgyu enjoyed having something to latch onto. 

The pharaoh pulled his lips open again, but this time he lifted the hand that had been wrapped around Beomgyu’s cock and pressed three fingers into his mouth at once. He then pushed up on his chin, closing the boy’s mouth around them. He watched intensely again, pressing his fingers slightly into the tongue until Beomgyu began sucking on them of his own accord. The same pout was still present on the pharaoh’s lips, but Beomgyu had no idea why. He was trying to do everything he was told, he was really trying not to get punished or killed, so what was he doing wrong?

The boy eventually pulled his fingers out of Beomgyu’s mouth and wrapped them back around his cock. He stroked a few times, allowing wetness to cover the cock and create a much easier slide. This time, he seemed to try harder. He held it tighter, stroked a bit faster, lingered on the head and rubbed over the very tip on each slide. His free hand lingered on Beomgyu’s throat, placing enough pressure on the side of his neck to be uncomfortable but not enough to hurt. 

It didn’t take long for Beomgyu to feel himself falling into it. His mind was already hazy and open to any gentle suggestion, and the stimulation around his dick was enough to set off the fire in his stomach. The previous nausea had been replaced with a tingling sensation through his chest and lower stomach and for some reason, the lingering snake around his shoulders only intensified the feeling. 

Beomgyu’s breathing became a bit heavier and he parted his lips, huffing out the tiniest of breaths every time the pharaoh rubbed over the tip of his cock. At one point, the boy stayed there, pressing his thumb into the slit and closely watching Beomgyu’s expression as he did. It was a bit torturous, surely intentionally, and Beomgyu could do nothing but lean his head back and close his eyes. The hand around his neck tightened until he could hardly breathe, and Beomgyu looked at the pharaoh with half-closed lids. 

It was quite possible that he would die right now. Even though the pharaoh was looking at him with a gaze of curiosity instead of anger, Beomgyu still felt the fear deep underneath the thrum of his heart. There was no way for him to move, no way for him to beg, to way for him to survive under the thumb of this boy in front of him. And when the snake hissed close enough to his ear for Beomgyu to hear it over the static that was slowly taking him from consciousness, he orgasmed. 

The hand immediately softened as Beomgyu’s face scrunched. His body tensed a bit, but it didn’t feel the same as his usual orgasms. It was strange. Mentally, he felt completely fucked. But physically, it hardly translated to anything visible. A slight stiffness in his muscles, furrowed eyebrows, and terse lips, then a complete relaxation after only a few seconds. His heavy breaths were the only thing to present the state he was in, and the pharaoh seemed to soak in his post-orgasm bliss more than Beomgyu did. His previously downturned lips had softened into a smile, and he continued to watch Beomgyu with gentle eyes. 

“Aww…χαριτωμένος.”

When Beomgyu next saw the harem room, he felt that things had changed a lot. His hands were no longer bound by rope, much of his exposed thighs and arms had light red lines across them, and his waist was now adorned with a golden sash of his own. This one had a snake’s head embroidered into its fabric, the very same that protruded from the crown on his pharaoh’s head. He walked with a bit more confidence, feeling prouder now that he had gained even a piece of favor. It made him desire more. He wanted to be the favorite.

But as soon as he stepped into the threshold of the harem room, Beomgyu felt out of place once more. The boys stopped what they were doing to look at him, and none of their expressions were kind. He stared back at them for a while before slowly walking to the corner he had always sat in. Their eyes followed him as he did, and they began speaking to each other in hushed voices, as if he could understand them anyway. Beomgyu assumed they were going to return to whatever they had been doing before he arrived, but of course he could not be that lucky. Many of them stood from their spots and began walking toward him until he was surrounded in his little corner. He wondered if he had done something to deserve the punishment of walking around the town again, but he didn’t think so. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind it, either. At least he could see the sun again that way. 

One of the boys yelled something at Beomgyu, but he just stared back. Another yelled, and again he did nothing but stare. It was only when they began grabbing at him that Beomgyu fought back. He was decently taller than the rest of these boys, even if he was rather lanky. It wasn’t too hard to shove one away when he came too close. But one latched onto the fabric of his dress and scrunched it up into his fist, tight enough that Beomgyu worried his clothing would come off if he pushed the boy too hard. Instead, he tried prying the fingers away, but it only created an opening for the others to rush in. They pulled at his hair, his clothing, his belt, and scratched at his skin until the rope burns were indiscernible from red fingernail marks.

Beomgyu tried pushing them away, hitting back, and pulling at their hair, but they didn’t stop until a few of the spearmen pulled them away. He was naively expecting them to be taken out of the room completely and maybe even punished , but the spearmen simply placed them on the other side of the room. The men laughed, turning back to their posts by the entrance and continuing to watch with amusement in their eyes.

The ones who hadn’t participated looked a bit shocked, watching Beomgyu with wide eyes. Even the boy from his village was there, staring, but doing nothing. That was fine, Beomgyu didn’t hold a grudge. He probably wouldn’t have stepped in, either.

“I learned a song about numbers.” 

The village boy leaned his head on Beomgyu’s shoulder with a smile. Beomgyu couldn’t understand why this boy still interacted with him when the rest of the harem hated him, but it was a welcome kindness. Hearing someone speak his language was nice, and he really should have responded, but now it felt like too late. He had gone many days without ever responding, and he knew it would seem somewhat fraudulent to admit he could understand the entire time. 

“The boys are nice if you get to know them. I wish you would get to know them…It’s sad watching you be lonely, you know.” The boy hummed. “Anyway, I can’t get the song out of my head now that I’ve learned it.”

“ ένα, δύο, τρία, τέσσερα, πέντε, έξι, εφτά, οκτώ, εννιά, δέκα~ ” He sang the words lightly, careful not to bother any of the people around them, and Beomgyu listened closely. He didn’t think he had heard any of those words before, but if they were numbers, then they would potentially be useful in the future. 

“ ένα, δύο, τρία, τέσσερα, πέντε, έξι, εφτά, οκτώ, εννιά, δέκα~ ” The boy repeated the song a few times and Beomgyu tried to remember, but he always forgot as soon as it ended. 

When the boy stopped and began rambling about different things instead, Beomgyu’s mind wandered. He drifted off into space, staring at the wall opposite him, until his eyes randomly latched onto one of the harem boys. He was walking across the room with a clump of something in his hand, something Beomgyu had never seen before. He walked toward the spearmen and handed them pieces of whatever he had. They smiled at each other as Beomgyu watched with curious eyes.

As soon as the moment ended, Beomgyu forgot about it. 

A while later, the pharaoh entered the harem room and proudly watched as each boy moved from their spots to meet him. Beomgyu also approached, but did not fall over himself for attention as the others did. Still, he could see the pharaoh watching him, even with several people between them and falling at his feet. They followed him to the center of the room where he always sat and crowded close to him. Beomgyu wondered how the pharaoh could possibly enjoy such a thing when he could barely stand for a single person to look at him closely. But maybe it was something for the royal to experience, not someone like Beomgyu. So he pushed the thought from his mind and sat on the fringe once again. 

The pharaoh spoke, and one of the harem boys stood. He grabbed some instrument and Beomgyu immediately felt his mind melting. This was truly his least favorite thing in the world: listening to someone play an instrument. Instead of paying any attention to it, his eyes trailed down to the pharaoh. From this angle, he was a bit hard to see. Beomgyu had situated himself to the side and slightly behind the boy, and was only able to see the curve of his nose and lips. He seemed to be pretty focused on the show, and didn’t notice any eyes on himself. The rest of the harem was just as intent on the musical performance, all except for one. Next to the pharaoh, a boy was preparing him a drink from the sandy pot in front of them. He rubbed the cup around on top of the sand and the dark liquid magically bubbled up. When it did, he took it off, and then pulled something out of his pocket to pour inside it. 

He then swirled the cup around a bit before placing it back on the sandy pit and moving it until it boiled once more. Beomgyu raised an eyebrow; he had never seen that before. Usually they just drank straight from the cup without putting anything more inside, but Beomgyu didn’t really think it was that strange. He never had any idea of anything happening at any time, so whatever. 

The boy handed his drink to the pharaoh, who began sipping at it, just as usual. 

For a few minutes, nothing happened. Beomgyu continued watching the pharaoh as the pharaoh watched his show. He was envious of the boy’s golden headband, the dark lines around his eyes, and just… everything he had. Beomgyu was so close to a royal person, how could he not use this to his advantage? 

In the midst of his mind’s wanderings, Beomgyu saw movement from behind the pharaoh. One of the harem boys seated directly behind him was slowly rising onto his knees until he was higher than the pharaoh’s head. He then lifted his hand from where it was hidden behind his back and few of the other boys seemed to notice, but turned to the front again as if he were doing nothing strange. But Beomgyu continued to watch. Once the boy’s hand was exposed, Beomgyu realized he was holding a weapon. It looked like one of the spears’ tips had been removed from the wooden section and now only the sharp edge remained. 

Beomgyu’s eyes caught onto one of the other boys, who was looking directly at him. The boy shook his head and jerked it forward, as if demanding that Beomgyu look at the musical show. He narrowed his eyes, looking at the boy with the speartip in his hand and then at the people around them. It was so strange how they all acted as if nothing was happening. This boy was kneeling behind the pharaoh, significantly taller than him and easy for anyone to see. But even if the other boys glanced at him, their faces expressed nothing. Even the spearmen didn’t react. Nothing made sense to Beomgyu.

The boy lifted the blade toward the pharaoh’s neck, and Beomgyu knew this couldn’t be right. Everyone else was acting normal, but what was this? The pharaoh couldn’t possibly want to be murdered? Right? Beomgyu had no idea. The boy’s face was pink and his hand shaking a bit, clearly nervous. He carefully brought the blade from the back of the pharaoh’s neck to the side, slowly attempting to get it in front.

Beomgyu abruptly stood from his spot, immediately drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Each head turned toward him, including the pharaoh, and the boy behind him had stopped all movement. Beomgyu stood still for a moment, knowing he would not be able to communicate, but then pointed his finger at the boy with the blade. 

As the pharaoh’s head turned, the room fell into complete silence. The instrument-player had faltered his notes and stopped, the spearmen were watching the scene and exchanging glances at each other, and every single one of the harem boys were staring at the pharaoh as he took in the situation. The boy behind him had been too shocked to even attempt to hide his weapon, and sat in one spot without moving. Beomgyu expected the pharaoh to blow up, beat the boy, or do something explosive, but he didn’t. He simply looked at the blade, the boy, the rest of the boys, and then the spearmen.

At that point, the two spearmen rushed forward and grabbed the harem boy, twisting his arms behind his back and forcing him to drop the weapon. As they exited the room, the pharaoh stood and stepped away from the boys. He crossed his arms over his chest, but Beomgyu couldn’t tell if it was from anger or an attempt to soothe himself. 

More spearmen came rushing into the room after only a few seconds and they began grabbing whoever was closest. When one grabbed Beomgyu by his biceps and held his arms behind his back just like the rest, he couldn’t understand why. He thought he had been helping but now he wasn’t so sure. The pharaoh did nothing when he was dragged out of the room with the rest of the harem, so had he been wrong? Had he ruined something that was supposed to happen? Beomgyu really couldn’t understand. 

He was left even more confused when they did not return to their rooms. There had previously been at least a day’s wait until the punishment began, but it seemed they were going to immediately feel it today. Beomgyu wanted to explain himself, and that he had no idea what was going on, but it was impossible. He could only hope he wouldn’t be killed. He knew he didn’t deserve it. 

They were brought to a large room that he recognized. He had been brought here a long time ago when he was first punished. The room had higher ceilings than he had ever seen and walls that traveled so far away that he thought he could see the horizon. The floor was made from nothing but loose sand and the air was the coldest he had felt in this foreign land. The only thing this barren room held were long, wooden sticks. They were as high as three Beomgyus stacked on top of each other, and extremely sturdy. He remembered how his hands had been tied to them and how he struggled to pull away but couldn’t. This time, he thought, he wouldn’t try so hard to get away. No, this was a better punishment than the alternative of death. 

The spearmen began taking each boy to a different stick, but they weren’t tied up in the way he remembered. They were supposed to have their fronts facing the sticks so they could be flogged, but it was the opposite this time. Beomgyu didn’t fight while the spearman tied his wrists behind the stick and left him stuck, though he did feel upset that he had unwillingly left the pharaoh’s good graces. 

Once they had all been tied down, Beomgyu watched the men move to the corner of the room. There was a pile of hay and wood chunks, and Beomgyu took a momentary relief in the fact that he could at least identify those items before he suddenly realized what was about to happen. The other boys seemed to realize at the same moment, because he could hear their woeful cries and sobs. 

But Beomgyu was simply in disbelief. He had helped to save the pharaoh from being killed. He had done nothing wrong. He had even gotten lesser punishments for worse things, so he really could not understand this. 

But the spearmen began throwing pieces of hay and wood underneath the boys’ feet anyway and they didn’t stop until there was a large pile that Beomgyu knew would burn for hours. 

The others continued their silent crying, but Beomgyu didn’t. He was still in far too much shock to do anything. He felt completely helpless, unable to communicate, unable to fight, unable to explain. It wasn’t fair . He didn’t understand why these men were not even attempting to find out what had truly happened. Wasn’t it too fast to kill them all immediately?

But once the men stopped, they left. The reprieve of not being immediately set on fire only lasted for a few seconds, though, as the spearmen were quickly replaced with different people. These men seemed to be dressed more similarly to the pharaoh, with white dresses and gold accessories. And after a few moments, he followed them inside, too. The pharaoh lingered behind, his arms still crossed and refusing to look at the harem boys. Beomgyu was unsure of how to feel. Part of him believed the pharaoh must know that he had done nothing wrong. Surely the pharaoh would save him from this insane punishment. But Beomgyu also knew that he was nothing in the grand scheme of things. His death would mean nothing when the pharaoh could simply buy a new group of boys to fuck. It was meaningless, he was meaningless. 

Beomgyu’s life may not have existed to anyone else, but it existed to him. So he stared at the pharaoh as hard as he could. The boy was petulantly refusing to look at any of his harem, but he had chosen them himself. They were his problem. Beomgyu stared at him even when one of the men pulled a torch from the wall and walked towards the other side of the room. There was maybe a house’s length between Beomgyu and the boy farthest away from him. A fire traveled fast, he knew that, and it would reach him in less than a minute. 

But the pharaoh refused to look at him. He must have felt the fire in Beomgyu’s gaze, he must have, but he refused to look. And Beomgyu never felt as helpless as he did when the man sat down the torch, setting the edge of the hay and wood combination completely alight. He could hear the beginning of screams from the boy closest to the flames, and probably the boy next to him as well. Within seconds, the cold room began to heat up, and Beomgyu knew he did not have enough time. He knew he was going to die without even getting justice for himself. Without even being able to try . Well, maybe he couldn’t explain himself to these people, but maybe he could to the gods of his homeland. A death that left no body was a death that could never transfer to the afterlife. It was one of the worst deaths he could imagine. 

“ YAH!”   Beomgyu screamed. It resonated so much louder than the others, and he needed to be heard over them. The men in the room looked at him, and it even got the pharaoh’s attention. Beomgyu stared at him directly in the eyes, not caring anymore now that he would already die. 

“I did nothing to you, you bitch! You fucking dog-pussy licking piece of shit, I did nothing wrong! I tried to save you, asshole! So you go ahead and kill me, but you will never find someone else willing to save their kidnapper’s life!” Beomgyu screamed it all out until his chest felt empty and his throat sore. 

He hardly even noticed that he had started crying fat tears of frustration until he felt the steam of incoming fire burning his dehydrated eyes. Beomgyu leaned forward, bending at the waist until his hair draped down and covered them. 

Within a few seconds, he felt someone touching him. The person cut through the rope on his hands instead of untying it, and then pulled him away quickly so the fire couldn’t reach them. Beomgyu stumbled out of the hay and wood pile, leaving the other twenty boys behind. They began screaming in their mother languages, hoping for the same reaction, even when they had already been engulfed in flames. However unfortunate, it didn’t work for them like it worked for Beomgyu. And that bit of luck, the one-out-of-twenty percentage, actually made Beomgyu feel kind of special. As if maybe he really wasn’t as meaningless as he thought. 

The man who had pulled Beomgyu out still held his arms in the same position as he had been brought in. He was still a prisoner, and he probably wasn’t in the best graces, but at least he wasn’t dead. Beomgyu breathed out, closing his eyes from the view in front of him. As much as he didn’t like those other harem boys, watching them all char black from bright, hot flames was a bit too much for him. Still, he could hear their screams. When he opened his eyes the smallest amount to look at the pharaoh, the boy was staring just as intensely into the fire as he did while watching the boys’ performances. 

Chapter Text

With everyone else gone, Beomgyu became the center of attention, at least for the servants who had no other job. Where they had been equally spread around all the concubines, they were now fixated on him. Someone different would come to check his room every few minutes, several people would offer him food throughout the day, and he even got to bathe more often. Under the Jin dynasty, he would only make a trip to the closest lake every week. In the winter, it was less than that. 

But here, it was so hot. Beomgyu had no idea what season it was, if he were to be honest. It seemed like months had passed, but the air didn’t get any cooler. By the end of a single day, his hair would sweat and his life force would leave him through his pores, so the baths were easily accepted. He hoped his sleeping habits would return to normal at some point, too, so he didn’t lie awake at night with the soles of his feet burning hotter than if they had been strung over coal. 

The only attention Beomgyu didn’t receive was from the Pharaoh himself. It had been almost two months, and he never once sent for Beomgyu. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad; if the golden boy was deliberating on whether he had made a mistake and should kill Beomgyu anyway, if he needed to take time away from the reminder of his attempted assassination, or if he was simply busy. Beomgyu found that even though the threat of death always lingered in the back of his mind, he didn’t worry about it as much. There was nothing he could do, after all. Not until he was staring death in the face. Yeah, at that point, he would fight. 

Until then, Beomgyu went on with his day. 

The two new guards took him back to the concubine room every day, but it was even more boring without people to watch. 

On the first day he came back, he noticed their belongings were still there. He nosed through them, but it was useless. He couldn’t read their script or play their instruments, but he did play around with some paint, if only to remind himself of Soobin. His hyung had a talent for painting beautiful plants and flowers, but Beomgyu’s were…crooked and scrabbly, to say the least. 

Finally, he was drawn toward the metal pot in the center of the room. A fire was lit underneath, heating the sand inside, but there was no visual difference to Beomgyu. A few little cups were inside, and each held a bit of dark black liquid that he had seen them drink before. Beomgyu never had the courage to ask them if he could try, but now he didn’t have to. Did he feel bad that they had all died? Kind of. But Beomgyu had also lived on the edge of catastrophe for every single day of his life, and he had always done everything in his power not to tip over that edge. They didn’t, so they deserved to die. And if anything, they were evil for trying to take him down with them. 

Beomgyu copied what the previous concubines had done, and dragged the little metal cup across the sand until the liquid inside began boiling. He then lifted it up and watched the bubbles disappear almost immediately. Just as the boys had done, Beomgyu blew over the top and took a tiny sip from the edge. 

“Ugh -” Beomgyu made a disgusted face and dropped the cup back into the sand. Whatever shit they drank tasted like…well, it tasted like shit. It was bitter and thick and gross. How could they drink that? How could the Pharaoh boy drink that?

He made brief eye-contact with the spearmen by the door before sighing and laying back down on the little cushion on the floor. Boring. Beomgyu was a worker, after all. He was a fisherman who had to catch fishes every single day or risk death in the future. Every day mattered. But ever since coming here, every day was the same. 

It took far too many days of sitting in the empty concubine room for his monotony to break. Just as he began to believe this would be how he lived out the remainder of his life, a spearman came to walk him from his room to the concubine room, except this time he walked down a different hallway. Beomgyu wished they could explain to him what was happening, or even better, teach him how to speak their language. But, he supposed, there wasn’t much to talk about when he was only there to suck another man’s cock. Sad.

The spearman pulled Beomgyu into a grand room. Its walls were sandy and lacked the intricate design of the rooms Beomgyu had seen before, but it seemed that all color had been concentrated in one single spot. On the opposite spot to where Beomgyu stood, there was a large table. It had light blue legs on each corner, the color of the top couldn’t be seen under all the food stacked on top of it. Red, green, purple, orange, everything. There were dishes upon dishes lining the table for at least…three sideways market carts. Yeah, that was what it looked like. 

Beomgyu bit his lip as he stared at the food. Was he brought here to eat? He turned around, only to see that the spearman had left. The entrance was empty even though they usually didn’t leave him alone. Beomgyu turned back to the food and eyed it for a while longer. There were things on that table that he had never seen in his life, and he took a few steps forward just to… inspect them. 

Some of the foods, like fish and cucumber, he recognized. But others had shapes and sizes that he had never seen before. What surprised him the most was a lack of rice, though maybe rice just wasn’t eaten by the upper class. He didn’t know. 

And Beomgyu really couldn’t help himself. They had left him alone in here, after all. Didn’t they leave him here to eat? They must have. So Beomgyu grabbed a little piece of cucumber and shoved it in his mouth. After months of nothing but sludge to eat, this was like heaven. Like a cool spring oasis in the middle of summer. 

Of course it was at that exact moment, with an unchewed chunk of cucumber sitting on his tongue, that people began walking into the room. Beomgyu turned to the open threshold only to see the pharaoh and several men walk in behind him. They were dressed in clothing similar to Beomgyu’s, but there was no way they were sex slaves. They were too old, not pretty enough. But for a brief moment, Beomgyu did wonder if the pharaoh would just buy more concubines…and how often did he get them, anyway? No more had arrived since Beomgyu had, and the ones already present seemed to have been fluent in this land’s language. 

Beomgyu hoped the pharaoh wouldn’t bring new people any time soon. The first round of boys were already annoying enough. 

“Heraclides, έλα εδώ.” 

The Pharaoh waved his hand at Beomgyu in what the boy assumed was an urge to come forward. He took a few shy steps, still unsure of his understanding, but nobody stopped him. Shit, he really needed to learn this language. 

The pharaoh moved toward a chair in the center of the room that Beomgyu hadn’t previously noticed. He must have been too hungry, too fixated on the huge pile of food against the wall. Which reminded him…he still had a chunk of cucumber in his mouth…He could swallow it, but that would hurt. What if he choked? Then they would definitely know he had eaten from the table. Ah, fuck. 

Beomgyu tried to think of a shitty plan as he walked toward the other boy who had now settled into his seat. It was quite thin, but clearly opulesent. Of course its base color was gold, but there were dottings of white and then a bird with blue feathers upon its spread wings, laying directly on the backrest of the chair. Its seat was curved on the sides, almost like a bowl, but leaving the front open in order for someone to comfortably sit. Beomgyu had never seen a chair shaped like that, but his homeland also didn’t have chairs or beds that extended from the ground. Everything about this place was strange and different, and Beomgyu felt himself becoming homesick. 

Once he stood in front of the seated pharaoh, the boy pointed at the ground and Beomgyu dropped to a kneel. His face was level with the pharaoh’s knees, covered in a slightly longer wisp of white fabric. There were the same golden bands around his waist, sash around his shoulders, and even his feet were confined into golden sandals. His feet…even they seemed to be as pristine as the rest of him. He must have gotten them cleaned every day, just like Beomgyu during his time here. Before then…ugh. 

With Beomgyu’s eyes pointed downwards, he didn’t notice the hand reaching down to him until it touched the top of his head. He gulped around the cucumber chunk, hoping the pharaoh would soon take his attention elsewhere, at least long enough for Beomgyu to chew and swallow.

But after musing Beomgyu’s hair for a few seconds, his hand dropped down to the boy’s chin and tilted his head upward. Even though his eyes, lined with black paint, were staring intensely at Beomgyu, he didn’t look back. Instead, he looked at the little golden armband that wrapped around the pharaoh’s bicep. Just like his headband and just like Beomgyu’s waist sash, it was in the shape of a snake. It seemed to be the boy’s favorite animal, if he were to guess. But how could someone have such a fixation on an ugly creature like that?

The pharaoh ran his thumb over Beomgyu’s chin, slightly pressing into the skin until Beomgyu could feel it in the bone. He didn’t move, and even tried to breathe as lightly as possible so the air wouldn’t touch the pharaoh’s fingers. For some reason, he still felt on-edge. It was very clear this boy could take his life away at any moment, and without the ability to communicate, Beomgyu had no idea what could set him off. 

“Χαριτωμένος…” The pharaoh said, and his voice came out slightly high-pitched and elongated. Just like Soobin’s did when he spoke to the tiny wild mice in their fields. The boy then pressed his finger over Beomgyu’s bottom lip and pushed it down. Clearly, he intended for Beomgyu to open his mouth, but he didn’t. In fact, he pressed his lips together and looked up into the pharaoh’s eyes, giving him as much of a pleading expression as he could manage. 

Please, please, go away.

Beomgyu really wished he could explain everything away with a lie, but - well, that wouldn’t work. Then he would have to open his mouth. Shit. 

“Hm?” The pharaoh tilted his head to the side in confusion and simply placed his hand over Beomgyu’s chin again, tugging his mouth open with a bit more force. Well, at least Beomgyu knew this boy wouldn’t back down from this. So he conceded, fearing a worse fate if he disobeyed. He parted his lips to only the slightest degree, but the pharaoh placed a thumb over his bottom teeth and pushed it open farther. 

Surely he could see it now. He must have known that Beomgyu stole food from the table. When the pharaoh’s eyes flickered over to the opposite side of the room, his suspicion was confirmed. The boy looked back down to Beomgyu, and then the corners of his lips quirked up into a smile. Before Beomgyu knew it, the boy’s grip on his chin loosened and he began to laugh. His shoulders shook up and down as he did, creating a little jingle from the jewelry around his neck and wrists. 

“Οι πόρνοι είναι άπιστοι.” The pharaoh spoke once his little fit of laughter had ended. Beomgyu had no idea what he was saying, but returned the smile sent down at him. “Άπιστος…αλλά είσαι ένας εταίρος και αυτό τα εξηγεί όλα.” He motioned at Beomgyu, and one of the other workers immediately came forward. He held a hand in front of Beomgyu’s mouth, and Beomgyu looked up at him with an unintentional pout. The man nodded down at him in return, thrusting his hand in front of Beomgyu’s face with an urgency that seemed a bit dramatic. 

But when the pharaoh gripped the back of his hair and jerked Beomgyu’s head down, he realized it wasn’t all smiles and happiness. Immediately, he opened his mouth and the man stuck his hand in. Beomgyu yelped at the intrusion, but it was over quickly, fortunately. When the man withdrew his hand, he took the little piece of cucumber with him and walked away again. Beomgyu left his gaze on the pharaoh and his lips parted, not knowing if the boy would want him to close them just yet. 

It seemed that he had done something wrong, because the pharaoh then shoved him backwards hard enough that Beomgyu had to catch his fall with hands on the floor behind him. He tried not to look angry, though the irritation was absolutely building within him. The only thing betraying him was the rise and fall of his chest, but the pharaoh’s eyes didn’t seem to touch that area. Instead, the boy leaned forward and stared directly at Beomgyu with raised eyebrows. They continued watching each other for several long seconds until the pharaoh grabbed him by the hair and dragged him forward again. He didn’t stop until Beomgyu’s nose was nearly touching the fabric of his dressing. 

When he let go, Beomgyu kept his head in the same position. Only then did he realize that he wasn’t supposed to look this boy in the eyes. But it had been so long since they’d seen each other…of course he would forget. And his suspicions were confirmed when the pharaoh patted his hair.

The miscommunications were really pissing Beomgyu off. Not only because it led to awkward and uncomfortable situations, but because it could lead to his death one day. He really needed to find a way to learn this language, but how could he even communicate that desire to someone?

His thoughts were broken when he heard footsteps approach from behind, and he braced himself in case one of the workers bothered him again. Thankfully nothing happened, but that felt even stranger. The footsteps approached and disappeared and approached again several times, the pharaoh spoke and so did the workers…and Beomgyu had to wonder if he was the only person in this entire place who couldn’t communicate. The monotony of kneeling in one spot, eyes closed, waiting for death, and hungry as fuck-

Oh…yeah…the pharaoh was probably being fed. Beomgyu wondered if the workers only brought the food to him or if he was truly fed by hand. If they were placing the food directly in his mouth, then gods…what a lucky man. 

Just as he thought he might drool from the thought of food, a palm came over his cheek and gently patted it. Still, Beomgyu didn’t lift his head until he was slowly pushed up. Even then, he didn’t look into the pharaoh’s eyes. Yeah, it irritated him to act so subservient, but he was nothing if not self-preservent.

The pharaoh held something small and green in his free hand. It reminded Beomgyu of the little blob of green paint Soobin would use for his parasols, but clearly this was hard enough to hold in his hand. Beomgyu’s lips parted for the pharaoh to push it into his mouth, and Beomgyu was immediately hit with too much flavor. Just like the previous drink he had been given by the pharaoh, it was bitter and wet. And when Beomgyu bit down on it, even more of the bitterness squeezed out. 

Again, the other boy laughed at his expression. Beomgyu didn’t mean to look sour, but he was accustomed to the taste of rice, fish, and some plants. All of those tasted refreshing to him, but this? The food here tasted like it would make Beomgyu’s fingers shrivel up. 

A worker came by again and handed the smiling pharaoh another item. This time it was something round and purple, almost like a turnip. But when the pharaoh broke it apart with his fingers, it looked much squishier on the inside. There was a thick white border underneath the purple skin, and then a pink smush with little yellow dots hidden underneath. Before Beomgyu could decide if it looked scary or not, the pharaoh pushed it inside his open mouth. Immediately, Beomgyu was hit with a much nicer flavor. It was very sweet, sweeter than a persimmon. 

His reaction must have been good, because the pharaoh broke off another piece and placed it in Beomgyu’s mouth. While Beomgyu was chewing, the other boy held up the last piece in front of his face and pointed to it. 

“Fig.”

Beomgyu stared at the food and nodded. When the pharaoh placed it in the boy’s mouth, he repeated the word again. “Fig.”

Beomgyu wanted to repeat it back to him, to show that he was listening, but there was a sound that he had never heard before and he wasn’t sure if he could replicate it. It was the same with the word pharaoh. As much as he wanted to say the other boy’s name, he just didn’t think he could. Luckily, he had never been pushed to speak, and it remained the same for today, too. The pharaoh simply continued to feed him this sweet food until Beomgyu’s stomach felt satisfied. 

A few minutes ago, Beomgyu could have sworn he hated this boy, but now…well, he was alright.

Eventually, the pharaoh placed a hand on the back of Beomgyu’s head once more, only this time it was not to study his face. Beomgyu realized exactly what was expected as soon as his face came closer to the pharaoh’s crotch. Without words, Beomgyu raised a hand to the boy’s exposed knee. He briefly glanced up when his palm touched its soft skin, only to see a smile cross the pharaoh’s face. Beomgyu took it as a clear signal to continue.

His fingers pushed the white cloth upwards until it met the boy’s hip and exposed his cock. It wasn’t hard, but Beomgyu planned to change that as quickly as possible. Strange emotions filled his chest as he wrapped a small hand around the shaft, just as the pharaoh had previously done for him. Beomgyu didn’t really have an attraction to men, but he did have resolve. Just as he had been ready to marry a village girl he didn’t love, he was ready to have sex with a man he didn’t love. He didn’t have shame; he didn’t need it.

Beomgyu leaned down and took the tip of the pharaoh’s cock into his mouth. He attempted to copy what he had seen the previous concubines do from stolen glances and side-eyes. Take it in as far as you can, up and down…up and down? Beomgyu didn’t really know what to do with his tongue, teeth, or lips. He had only seen the other boys’ heads move up and down…

Okay, but he also heard noises, too. Noises as if they were eating and drinking, yeah? So Beomgyu tried to suck as he moved up and down. It didn’t really sound the same, no, the other boys sound more wet . He didn’t know. What would feel good if done to him? Um…Well, he had never had his dick sucked before. Shit.

The pharaoh grabbed the back of his hair again and pulled him back, and that was when he heard a bit of a wet sound. And, oh, the pharaoh had gotten hard! Beomgyu only noticed it once it was staring him right in the face, but he did feel a bit better about his abilities. Still, why had he been pulled away?

The pharaoh placed his finger on Beomgyu’s tongue and it seemed to have some type of thick, sweet liquid on it. Very, very sweet. So much that Beomgyu felt himself immediately begin to drool. Luckily, the pharaoh pulled his finger away, leaving a thick glob of the sweet stuff on his tongue. Unluckily, he pushed his cock back between Beomgyu’s lips before he could swallow it. The boy nearly choked at the intrusion, but quickly regained his composure. The sweet stuff on his tongue made everything more pleasurable; it was stuck between his tongue and the cock on top of it, and he couldn’t help but swipe back and forth in an attempt to taste more. He heard the pharaoh sigh from above him, and it seemed to be from bliss instead of irritation. 

He held the back of Beomgyu’s head tightly and pushed him up and down at a quickly increasing pace. But even with the cock hitting the back of his throat, Beomgyu didn’t really feel anything. He continued lapping up the stuff in his mouth while tonguing at the pharaoh’s cock. And really, he didn’t realize that he had never seen this before. The golden boy had always allowed the concubines to go at their own pace, and he wasn’t sure if it was a reward or punishment that he was using Beomgyu in this way. It sure made his job easier, though. 

Beomgyu allowed his mouth to be fucked harshly, and didn’t even feel the tickle of a gag. The only thing he couldn’t control were the little tears that sprouted in the corners of his eyes and eventually trickled down his cheeks on a particularly harsh thrust. He placed a hand on the armrest of the pharaoh’s chair for support, but it was quickly slapped away. Just another rule, he guessed. 

Soon the pharaoh shoved his head down to the base until his cock seemed to pass Beomgyu’s throat, and then a warm liquid began to flow out of it. Like a gross medicine, Beomgyu swallowed it down as fast as possible and didn’t even let it touch his tongue. When the pharaoh’s hand left the back of his head, Beomgyu still remained in the same place. The cock began to soften in his mouth, and he couldn’t help but swallow again when he tasted a last wisp of the sweet liquid. The action caused the other boy to make a small noise and pull him off again. 

Admittedly, Beomgyu felt a bit weird for sucking another man’s cock and swallowing his cum. But, well, that was just how life worked out sometimes. 

However.

What he did not appreciate was the pharaoh simply pulling the fabric back over his cock and sending Beomgyu away without a shiny gift. The boy waved his hand and two of the workers were by Beomgyu’s side in less than a second, grabbing his arms and pushing him outside the room where several spearmen were guarding. 

And then he was sent back to the concubine room with an annoyed scowl on his face the entire time. 

It was harder to catch fish during snowfall. On these days, Soobin often accompanied him in order to ensure their meal for the coming days. 

Fish liked to swim in comfortable water. If it was too cold, they wouldn’t even rise from the depths. It left the Chois no choice but to sit atop their sampan boat at the shallowest depths of the ocean and stare down at the sandy floor with wooden spears in hand. 

Waiting could take hours, but it was easier with two pairs of eyes rather than one. Soobin had more precision and attention to detail than Beomgyu, after all. 

But the monotony of sitting under the sun all day without a catch was discouraging and mind-numbing to anyone. Eventually, Beomgyu shifted their conversation from light-hearted wonderances into something as stilted and drab as their day. 

“How come you don’t ever talk about mom and dad?”

Soobin’s gaze remained on the ocean’s calm waves with a slight grimace. His cheeks were red from the frigid air while the rest of his skin was pale. Beomgyu wondered if he looked the same. 

“Because there’s no point.”

“But aren’t you sad?” Beomgyu urged. “I still get sad…”

“If they hadn’t died in the raid, they would have died anyway. Mom was twenty-nine and dad was thirty-one, they had five years left, at best.”

At that, Beomgyu pouted. He knew his hyung wasn’t being mean on purpose, but he still couldn’t understand. They had known their parents for their entire lives. How could he forget so easily? “I still get sad.” Beomgyu repeated, and looked back down into the water alongside his brother. 

“I know.” Soobin grasped the spear a bit harder. “But you can’t dwell on the death of those around you. If you were to mourn for the same amount of time that you spent loving them, you would be dead before you finished. You can’t let it stop you from doing the things you need to do.” Soobin punctuated his sentence by thrusting the stick into the water as hard as he could and pressed it down until he was sure the fish was dead. When he finally brought the stick back up, their dinner was nicely impaled. 

“You and I have been lucky.” He continued speaking as he pulled the fish off his spear and began to place it in their boat basket. “To have been spared. To live out half of our lives catching fish and painting parasols…a lot of people don’t have it so easy, you know. And yet, Beomgyu, you keep focusing on frivolous things and allowing…for life to pass you by…” His hyung sighed as he eyed the water. Beomgyu quickly followed his gaze, only to see another fish swim through the current and out of sight. 

“I hope our stipend covers this.” Soobin looked at Beomgyu and the boy nervously smiled in return. 

The next time Beomgyu was in the concubine room by himself, he finally attempted to ask for help. All of the previous boys’ belongings were still scattered about for some reason, but he was now thankful for it. Attempting to ask for help would be difficult, but he had a shitty plan. 

Beomgyu grabbed one of the thin papers remaining on a table. It had many thin black lines on it, but he didn’t think it was a drawing. He had seen some of the boys look down at papers similar to these while speaking, and could only assume the paper told them what to say. 

When Beomgyu trotted up to one of the spearmen, the man in question did not look like he wanted to talk. He stared down at Beomgyu with wide eyes visible under the shadow of his helmet and even backed away a few steps. But Beomgyu couldn’t be discouraged so easily. He brought his eyebrows down in a pleading manner and motioned to the paper. 

The man looked confused, which he expected. So Beomgyu motioned to himself, to the man, and then to the paper again. 

After a few moments of blank staring, Beomgyu sadly sighed. “I want to speak your language…” 

Still, there was nothing. Beomgyu turned back to the room and began walking forward with arms splayed out. “Pig…” he attempted, but it didn’t sound right. He touched a palm over his stomach and repeated the word a few times, but he couldn’t remember how exactly the pharaoh had said it before. 

“Fig?”

Beomgyu quickly turned around to see the spearman watching him. He nodded and made his way back to the man with a bit more bounce in his step. With an idea, Beomgyu placed a hand on his own chest. “Hera…Heracollides.” He then pointed to the other man, who cautiously motioned to himself just as Beomgyu had. 

“Ankhkherednefer…” 

“Uh…” Beomgyu stared at him for a moment before regaining himself and vigorously nodding. He then pointed to one of the instruments in the room and looked back at the man, tilting his head to the side as he had seen the pharaoh do. 

“...Lyre.” The man spoke, and Beomgyu became dramatically excited. Even though he knew they were not truly communicating, it was exhilarating to feel that someone could understand him in the slightest way after so many months of feeling mute. 

Beomgyu handed the spearman his paper again and pointed at it before pointing at himself. He was so, so hopeful that this man could understand what he wanted. 

“Hm.” The spearman hummed as his eyes glazed over the paper. Beomgyu wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter what was on there, he just wanted to speak the language. But it seemed that the man began to understand without having to be told. He looked down to Beomgyu, his previous confusion and apprehension gone, and began to point out random things in the room. 

“Chair, fire, column, rug…”

Beomgyu knew he wouldn’t remember it all by tomorrow. He probably wouldn’t even remember it by the next hour. But that was fine, maybe this could be a regular occurrence. Maybe Beomgyu could learn over time…

Much time passed before he saw the pharaoh again, but it felt advantageous to Beomgyu since he had more time to study. Well, he still wasn’t that good, to be fair. He knew some random words, but he had no idea how they actually fit into a sentence. Trying to create his own sentences using the same format as his mother tongue only earned him a strange look and headshake from the spearman, but that was alright. Beomgyu assumed it was more important for him to understand others than for him to speak.

One night he was taken from his bed and down the hall to the pharaoh’s room. The other boy was standing with his back toward Beomgyu and facing the wall. He seemed to be gazing up at a piece of brown paper with many thin black lines and circles on it. 

“Heraclides.” The boy said, but didn’t even glance back at him. Beomgyu took slow steps forward until he was standing to the right and slightly behind the pharaoh. His eyes trailed over the exposed skin of the boy’s shoulders; they didn’t look like they had ever been marred, not even by a callous. To meet someone like this in his life was surely unique. 

A lot of people don’t have it so easy, you know

The pharaoh’s hand lifted to the paper, and he pressed a single finger upon a spot on its right half. He then spoke, but the only word Beomgyu could understand was ‘you.’ It was a bit disappointing, and he had hoped he could at least get the gist of what the pharaoh said, but of course it wouldn’t be that easy. 

The other boy’s finger dragged down the map lazily until his arm dropped back down to his side. Beomgyu stared at the paper, wishing he could understand. It all looked like nonsense to him. A brown paper with some black lines drawn on it in a form that he couldn’t recognize. 

When the pharaoh finally turned to look at him, his eyes were half-lidded and heavy. Even his footsteps were heavy when he walked to the large bed at the center of the room and flopped down on it. Beomgyu glanced back at the paper on the wall as if it would make something appear in his mind, but nothing ever came. So he huffed, and it seemed to grab the pharaoh’s attention. 

“Hey.” The boy said, and Beomgyu quickly looked back at him, excited that he could understand. But he was nervous, too. He wanted to say ‘hello’ in return, but his throat felt a bit tight with shyness. Before he could muster his courage, the pharaoh turned onto his side and blindly reached onto the table next to his bed. With his free hand, he motioned for Beomgyu to come forward, and he did, but couldn’t help when he wrung his hands behind his back to aid the nerves. 

Once the pharaoh grabbed a little white bowl from his bedside table, he sat up on his knees and patted the blanket in front of him. It looked very nice and beautiful, and Beomgyu didn’t want to mess it up, but still did as he was ordered. 

The little white bowl was filled with black powder and a little white stick poking out of it. When the pharaoh grabbed the end of the stick, it became clear what he was going to do. Though the top was thick and easy to grab, it winded down into a point on the bottom that he used to press into the powder. Beomgyu closed his eyes when the pharaoh placed a steadying hand on his cheek, and soon he felt the stick’s cold touch over the top of his eyelid. 

The golden boy hummed as he drew lines as fine as those on paper, and Beomgyu wondered how he looked. His appearance had never been a factor in his life until now, and he could only ever assume that he was pretty. But knowing that he was good enough to be the sole concubine of a person like this, even if only for the moment, it felt strangely good. And knowing that the boy was going to make him look prettier was even better. He had never even gotten the thought to try and improve his appearance.

Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was against nature, but Beomgyu had always enjoyed the frivolous things. 

Even though the pharaoh only had black directly lining his eyes, he decided to drag it out quite far from the edges of Beomgyu’s. It felt like it was damn-near touching his hairline, but he didn’t stop the boy. As long as the pharaoh was happy, Beomgyu would be his parasol. 

After a few minutes, the stick left his face and the boy was tapping Beomgyu’s cheek. When the boy opened his eyes, the pharaoh was smiling down at him. He suddenly stood from the bed and pulled Beomgyu up with him before dragging him toward another corner of the room. Once they were standing in front of a painting that had been darkly etched into the wall, the pharaoh pointed at it. Under the golden torches of the room, it looked strangely old in comparison to the other decorations. It seemed to have been chipped in some places, and the paint looked dull. But what gave it away the most was the fact that it had been painted directly onto the wall rather than on another surface. 

The image itself was of a person facing to the side. They wore a large, tall, and golden cylindrical hat with long black hair emerging from under it. There were golden rings around their neck, similar to what the pharaoh wore. And then, what he assumed he was meant to look at, was the line of black that ran from the inside corner of their eye and out past the outside edge. In the painting, the line stopped just shy of the top of the person’s ear, and Beomgyu assumed that was how far his line went as well. 

The pharaoh pointed at the painting once more. 

“Egypt.”

He then pointed at a different painting next to it, one that had been done on a thick piece of pottery. It was simple; only a person with short, curly hair, and a small golden headband wrapped around their forehead. 

“Greece.”

Beomgyu briefly glanced at the golden snake coiled around the pharaoh’s forehead before quickly looking back at the paintings. He wasn’t sure what the point of this conversation was, but he tried to remember their names anyway. Maybe Egypt and Greece were the pharaoh’s family members or ancestors. Oh, Beomgyu would kill to have a painting of his parents, too. 

“Yes?” The pharaoh asked, and once again Beomgyu vigorously nodded out of pure excitement. The other boy gave him a strange look and then tilted his head to the side cutely. “Hm?”

Beomgyu looked up to the ceiling while thinking of what to say. He wanted to say something , but he knew it couldn’t be too complicated or else the pharaoh would never understand…

“Um…” Beomgyu looked back down to the first painting and gently pressed his finger against it. “Long hair girl.”

“Yes.” The pharaoh smiled and rubbed Beomgyu’s head roughly enough for it to probably ruin his hair. But he didn’t mind, he was still happy that the other boy seemed to understand him. However, the pharaoh then said something too long and complicated for Beomgyu to comprehend at all, and his proud smile dropped into a pout. When the pharaoh saw it, he laughed a bit and grabbed Beomgyu’s bicep, tugging him toward the door. 

Surely that couldn’t have been all he wanted? Beomgyu couldn’t believe it, but the pharaoh really sent him away with nothing but lined eyes and a smack to the ass before leaving him with the spearmen outside his room. 

Again, Beomgyu was disappointed by his lack of a present. He hadn’t gotten any since the other boys died, and he really thought that was unfair. Just because there wasn’t any competition didn’t mean the pharaoh was allowed to slack. Beomgyu tossed around the idea of yelling at the other boy again once he learned his language, but he also didn’t want to die. It was difficult to juggle all his desires at once. 

Once he was brought back to his bedroom and locked in, Beomgyu noticed something sitting on his pillow. It looked like something had been wrapped in a little red cloth, and Beomgyu immediately snatched it up to unwrap. 

And once he did, he smirked. There was a little spiral ring with a small and clear crystal sitting on the top. It wasn’t the gaudiest present, but Beomgyu was happy. It felt addicting to receive gifts like this, and he felt a strong urge to build a collection. 

He would work for it. 

Chapter Text

Beomgyu was tired of waiting. 

This place left him in some strange semblance of purgatory; he knew he shouldn’t want to exchange sexual favors for sparkly objects, but he was so fucking bored. His life had always been a constant stream of work. Fish all day, clean the house, sell at the market, wash his clothes, there was hardly a moment when he wasn’t doing something. But here, in this strange foreign land, he was expected to sit in his room and do nothing for days. The only thing he could occupy himself with was learning their language, but even that became boring after long enough. 

Because of that, Beomgyu got an itch. Where he had previously gotten anxious to escape, he now became anxious to explore. Every room he had seen so far was big and beautiful; even the little market he had walked through was pretty in his memory. Everything shined and sparkled as nicely as the water on a cloudless day. 

So when he noticed a shift in routine by the workers, Beomgyu immediately searched for an opportunity. The women didn’t invite him to bathe as many times a day, and the men didn’t come to check on him and feed him as often, either. Interesting. 

At first, he thought there must have been a new group of slaves for the workers to shift their focus to, but then he overheard a bit of a conversation. 

“Kyky worries about the cooking.” One of the men said. “He might not finish in time.”

Beomgyu sipped lightly on the drink he had been given, and his eyes traveled to the other man when he scoffed. “Huh. If he wants to live, then he better finish by tomorrow.”

Interesting, yes, very interesting.

When tomorrow came, Beomgyu wasn’t visited at all. He waited for a while, though he had no way to tell how much time had passed, and eventually decided to do something. He wore only his white dress, foregoing the golden accessories that had any potential to jangle and expose him in the quiet of this castle. It was risky, he knew, and probably stupid as well, considering he had been caught twice before. But this time was different. He had accepted there was no possibility of returning home without either being murdered for insubordination or dying out in the desert. If he just accepted his place, he would be fine…probably. 

But he might also die from boredom if he didn’t leave this room. 

So Beomgyu pushed open the door of his room and the door of the common room before arriving at the hallway. He stood as silently as possible, looking down both directions but seeing nothing. However, he did hear some type of noise from the right, the opposite direction of the concubine room. He couldn’t quite tell what it was, maybe a crowd of loud voices or even a thunderous rainstorm. But those couldn’t happen within a building, right? Or maybe they could; this place was gigantic, after all. 

Beomgyu decided to follow the noise, however much of an unwise decision it may have been. There weren’t any guardsmen in sight, but the path curved enough that he couldn’t see far. Since the workers seemed pretty preoccupied, Beomgyu could only hope the guards were as well. 

The fear that they were planning a sacrificial ritual admittedly crossed his mind, but Beomgyu tried not to think about it. He had been here for many, many days and nothing had happened yet. 

Beomgyu passed a few doors on his way, but there was only silence behind them. The noise seemed to be much farther in the distance. And even as he continued to follow it for several minutes, it became louder, but remained muffled. The lack of audible clarity and any guards through such a long distance made Beomgyu cock his head to the side in confusion, but he continued on. He took every turn in the hallway that took him closer to the noise, all until he was completely lost. 

Now that he knew the language, Beomgyu was a bit less concerned with getting caught by a spearman, but he was also annoyed that he likely would never find his way back without the aid of one. 

Beomgyu turned a corner and found himself in an open room once more; this seemed to be where the hallway ended. But his eyes immediately caught onto another doorway on the opposite side of the room. If he listened closely, it seemed the noise was emanating from that area. So Beomgyu dashed forward and grabbed the handle, opening it slowly in case there was a danger lurking behind it. A tiny ray of white light poured into the room through the crack of the door, only growing larger as he continued to open it. 

Sunlight…

He thrusted the door open and allowed the light to drench his body completely. After so long without feeling even the slightest pinch of sun over his skin, Beomgyu felt blinded by its Godly light. The air was already hot and dry under the building and being in open-air only exacerbated that feeling, but Beomgyu much preferred it. Without being able to see, he could even imagine that he was sitting on his sampan once again.

Eventually the brightness faded from his pupil and he was able to regain all semblance of sight. The first thing he did was look down at his own hand, which had lost much of its color since arriving here. The paleness looked a bit freaky, he thought, and he could even see some of his veins underneath the skin…ew.

But the next thing Beomgyu did was look up. Directly in front of him was a continued hallway, but it seemed that there was only a wall to the right, not to the left. A few thick columns held the upper storey off the ground, but they were at least five market carts apart, so Beomgyu could easily fit between. He placed a hand on one, briefly glancing at the little depictions of humans with bird heads before looking back out toward the open air. 

There were several other buildings, all colored in pure white and reflecting the sun’s rays into that blinding, sweltering heat. Fortunately, though, it seemed the ground was a more yellow-toned color, like the inside of the building Beomgyu had been living in. There were even some trees scattered through the grounds, but their trunks were thin and much shorter than the trees Beomgyu remembered. 

There were large, gray statues in the shape of men that Beomgyu didn’t recognize. They must have been important though, because they seemed three times as tall as his home. 

Other than that, Beomgyu couldn’t see much. Many details were lost to the height and the rest of the grounds were covered in people, animals, and tables. What he saw was almost too extravagant to comprehend, let alone explain. There seemed to be two different types of people; ones in the regular white and golden clothing Beomgyu had seen on everyone since arriving, and then the people who wore a plethora of colors. Blue, pink, silver, green, and a dash of gold on their clothing as well. Where his captors wore dresses that hung just above their knees, the other people wore dresses hanging clear down to their ankles. 

There were animals roaming with a few people by their sides, guiding them. One was a gray beast as large as his house, with multicolored cloth draped over its back and a snout that protruded outward like a warm. Another animal was the same color as the sandy ground beneath it, but with a long bush of brown hair growing around its face and head like a beard. It took careful, but deep steps before pushing its paws forward and body back in a pouncing motion. Beomgyu had never seen an animal like this, but it reminded him of -

Oh fuck.

There was a tiger down there, too. 

Beomgyu unconsciously held a hand up to chest, feeling fear spread through his body and root his feet to the ground. He gulped, but it passed through his throat with difficulty. The urge to run back to his room was horrifically fierce, but at the same time, he feared it would see him and chase him if he moved too quickly. Yeah, he was several storeys in the air, but he had seen those fuckers climb trees to catch their prey before. This didn’t mean shit. 

“Oh fuck…” Beomgyu wheezed, keeping his eyes peeled and trained on it. After a few moments, he realized where it was walking. 

The pharaoh sat in a large chair near the outer edge of the grounds, just in front of the wall that separated this palace from the rest of the world. The headrest behind him was carved in the image of a bird’s wings, spread and ready to take flight. Instead of the typical golden snake headband, he wore a large, golden cylinder on his head. To Beomgyu, it kind of looked like a bucket, but he would never say that to the pharaoh’s face. 

Still, he could recognize that boy’s face anywhere. It was so unlike any he had seen before. When the spearmen told Beomgyu that the pharaoh was a God, Beomgyu could easily see it. 

And when the tiger strolled up to the pharaoh and didn’t immediately maul him to death, Beomgyu knew it must have been true. The boy reached down and petted the tiger’s head, right between the ears, and suffered no consequences. 

The tiger walked away after a few seconds and began walking toward some man sitting next to the pharaoh. This man had a long blue cloth that wrapped around one shoulder, over his chest like a sash, and then down his waist to drape over his ankles. There was a golden belt holding it together, and a dark red cloth hung over his shoulder, wrapped under the blue one to keep it in place. The man’s skin was darker than the pharaoh’s, and he had a beard of black hair as well. It was an intriguing sight, and Beomgyu wondered what it all meant. In his home, those who wore colors were of a much higher status, but if the pharaoh was a god, then shouldn’t he be the one to wear exorbitant clothing? Who was this man to outshine him?

Well, Beomgyu had worn no cloth other than white for the entirety of his life, so he couldn’t really talk. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sight of the tiger turning around and walking a few steps in his direction. There was no way it even noticed him, but Beomgyu ran back towards the building anyway. 

When Beomgyu was called to the pharaoh’s room that very same night, he was surprised. He hadn’t run into any spearmen on his way back to the room, though it caused him to wander around for a good hour before he finally found his way, and he thought he had been lucky. 

But the pharaoh never called Beomgyu into his room to punish. That was always handled by the other workers and spearmen, not a distinguished person. So Beomgyu gave himself an air of confidence as he walked through the hallway, taking each memorized turn toward the pharaoh’s bedroom without the aid of a spearman. It seemed they were allowing him a significant amount of freedom lately, and it seemed strange, but maybe this was how the other concubine boys had lived. At least, before betraying the pharaoh like a bunch of fucking idiots. 

Beomgyu pushed the little red cloth apart to reveal the pharaoh in his room. The boy had forgone his extravagant headwear from earlier in the day, and was again wearing the golden headband. His hair, a bit longer than Beomgyu remembered it, was gently falling over the sides of the headband in little tufts. He turned when Beomgyu entered and gave him a smile, waving him closer. In his other hand was a cup of red liquid, the same that he had forced Beomgyu to drink before; the same kind that had made him feel incredibly weird. 

Regardless, Beomgyu obeyed and walked forward. That was, until a loud hiss resounded through the room and a huge flash of green leapt up at his left side. Beomgyu cried out in surprise and flinched to the right hard enough to slam himself into the wall. 

“Fuck!” He cursed in his mother language. “Fuck, it’s a fucking dragon .” Beomgyu stared down at the green creature, terrified. It looked almost exactly like the mythical creatures Soobin had painted before. Green…long tail…little legs poking out the sides…and an open snout with long, white teeth. It stared at Beomgyu, clearly prepared to snap at him again if he moved. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off it even when he heard the pharaoh crack up and begin laughing. 

The boy said something, but Beomgyu’s brain was fried and all the Greek wires had been crossed. His eyes flashed to the pharaoh before snapping back to the dragon again. “Uh, uh - huh?” He managed to breathe, anticipating a bad response if he ignored the pharaoh. 

“Come here.”

“What?”

“You forgot Ελληνικά? Come here, now.” The pharaoh’s laughter had faded within seconds, leaving Beomgyu with the fear that he would get in trouble if he messed up. But the problem was that the pharaoh was standing next to the bed while the dragon was at the foot of it. It was poised to rip Beomgyu’s throat out if he walked toward the bed. Honestly, Beomgyu didn’t know how the fuck a person could have tamed one of those. 

“Come here~” the pharaoh called, and his voice was suddenly kind again. High pitched and sweet, like how Beomgyu talked to the fish he was luring towards his sampan. “If you don’t come soon, I’ll kill you.”

With the realization that he may die either way, Beomgyu decided to try and move toward the pharaoh. With the first tiny step, the dragon did nothing. But on the second, it hissed again. As soon as Beomgyu saw its head twist, he ran to the pharaoh and tucked himself between the boy and the wall behind him. For some reason, his fingers gripped into the fabric of his dress and pulled it down, though it didn’t do anything. 

The pharaoh turned around and grabbed Beomgyu’s shoulder, turning him around as well. Again, that brown paper with many black lines was in front of them. He asked a question, but Beomgyu could only understand the words where and you . 

But the pharaoh was looking down at him expectantly.

“Um, what you said?”

He could see the other boy’s jaw set in irritation, and tried not to physically shrink back. It wasn’t Beomgyu’s fault that nobody had taught him those other words. 

“Where. Are.” The pharaoh pointed at the paper and Beomgyu’s eyes followed. “You.” He grabbed Beomgyu’s hand and placed it on the paper. “Από?”

Beomgyu looked at his hand. The pharaoh had placed it over a largely drawn circle on the right side of the paper, but Beomgyu didn’t know what it meant. His heart was still racing at the fact that there was an entire dragon in this room that the pharaoh didn’t seem interested in talking about. 

But then it reminded Beomgyu of something. When Soobin needed to show Beomgyu how to get somewhere, he would often doodle the directions on a leaf. Was that what the pharaoh was trying to show him with this paper? Was Beomgyu supposed to…go somewhere?

“Hey.” The boy shook his head with a sigh and turned Beomgyu to face him again. “What’s your age?”

Luckily, Beomgyu did remember what that meant. “Twenty-three.” He stated, smiling with a swell of pride. But the pharaoh made a strange expression. Like he was simultaneously shocked and dejected.

“Twenty-three?” The pharaoh repeated, and Beomgyu nodded. “Oh…”

“And you?” Being able to hold a conversation with the other boy was annoyingly pleasing for Beomgyu, no matter how simple that conversation was.

“I’m nineteen…” The pharaoh stared past Beomgyu as if he were having a mental crisis. But once he came back to his senses, he looked into Beomgyu’s eyes and smiled again. “And you are eighteen.”

Neither of them spoke for a few moments, both trying to figure the other one out. But eventually, Beomgyu was the first to fold. “You cannot change age.” He spoke with a teasing smile, still unsure if the other boy was joking or not. 

“I can and I did.” The pharaoh replied, his own expression quickly dropping. Beomgyu attempted to mirror it, but the constant whiplash was making everything slow. “What’s your age?”

“...Eighteen…” 

The pharaoh smiled once more and nodded before turning him toward the bed and nudging him forward. Beomgyu reluctantly climbed on top, afraid that the dragon would come to execute him at any moment. Luckily, it didn’t snap at him again or even make any noises, so Beomgyu tried to pretend it wasn’t there. 

“Hey.” The pharaoh came to sit in front of him with the same little cup of black eyeliner as before. “Every day. This.” He spoke in a slow voice and the most simple terms, and Beomgyu couldn’t tell if it was out of thoughtfulness or condescension. “Your eyes? Sun? Air? Bad. Every day, this.” He began to draw over Beomgyu’s eyelids again, but it felt like a different shape this time. Instead of making a straight line from the outer corners of his eyes and into his temples, the pharaoh drew thickly over his eyelids. 

“What γλώσσα do you speak, hm? It’s not κινέζικα, I know how that sounds. But I don’t know any other γλώσσες of people who look like you. Oh, maybe Μογγόλος, but that can’t be right. They πωληθεί you. Huh…” The pharaoh continued rambling while Beomgyu remained in silent confusion. “Hey, you know Amitrochates?” Beomgyu shook his head. “Ah, do you know Alexander?” Again, Beomgyu shook his head. For a moment, the other boy’s movements stopped and his expression soured, but he then began to laugh. 

“Tell me, did they find you in the sky? Or the μεσαίο of the ocean?”

“Ocean!” Beomgyu responded, probably too enthusiastically. It made the pharaoh stare at him for a moment. 

“Um, okay. So, Alexander was…a strong and good man. He killed many people and took a lot of land. He went South, here, and East. But when he went Southeast …he failed. He was pushed back home. Do you understand?” Beomgyu nodded, knowing the pharaoh was oversimplifying everything, even though he really did not understand. “Amitrochates’ father was the one who pushed Alexander back. But now we are friends, everything is okay. When he has a εορτασμός, he asks me to come. When I have a εορτασμός, I ask him to come. You understand?”

Beomgyu made a small noise and shook his head. “When you have what? Please teach me this word.”

“Εορτασμός,” he repeated, “how do I teach…ah! It was what you saw today. Εορτασμός, celebration.” The pharaoh laughed when Beomgyu’s eyes became big. “Oh, with hair as black as yours, how could I not see you standing against a white building?”

Still, Beomgyu felt stupid. If the pharaoh had noticed him, everyone else must have as well. But he was surprised that he hadn’t been punished or forced back into his bedroom. This celebration must have been really important.

“Um…” Beomgyu drifted off as the pharaoh finished his painting and tucked the jar on his bedside table. “Today celebration, what for?”

“Γάμος.” When Beomgyu said nothing, the pharaoh sighed in annoyance. “Man and woman. Together forever.” 

“Eh?!” That was the last thing Beomgyu ever expected to hear, but he didn’t know why. He was supposed to have been married as well, but this place didn’t seem like it played by the rules. To find even a single similarity between the two civilizations was a bit wild. But it made sense, didn’t it? Most people were married and had children at a much younger age than them. “Wait.” Beomgyu suddenly raised his hand between them like a stop sign. “You have baby?”

“Uh, no.” The pharaoh didn’t elaborate any further, and tried to hide his discomfort by placing a hand on Beomgyu’s cheek. His demeanor shifted into something a bit darker, but it still held an air of childish imitation that kept Beomgyu from being completely immersed. “I thought you were younger, you know. I was holding back for you, to be kind.” The pharaoh’s facade fell as he broke into laughter. “I guess I don’t have to wait anymore! I knew it was a good choice not to kill you yet.”

The smile Beomgyu had raised to match the pharaoh’s giggles quickly faded.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you?” The other boy placed a thumb over Beomgyu’s bottom lip, eyes carefully trailing the expanse of his face. “Do you know, hm? It’s easy to guess.” Beomgyu knew, but shook his head anyway. It only made the pharaoh laugh again. “Oh, you know. You can’t lie when your cheeks are so red. Come, let me teach you a new word.” He waved his hand and Beomgyu shifted forward a bit. Once he did, the pharaoh leaned closer until his mouth was near Beomgyu’s ear. He whispered something before leaning back with a smug smile while Beomgyu waited for an explanation that would never come. 

“Next time we meet, I’ll show you what that word means.”

Beomgyu hesitantly nodded, but he didn’t know what to think. This boy acted really fucking weird at all times, and it felt impossible to know whether his future was in a good or bad position. Luckily, the pharaoh allowed Beomgyu to have his mental crisis in silence and didn’t stuff up the air with his strange moodswings. He took another sip of his drink, watching Beomgyu, waiting.

“Um…” Beomgyu tried to think of a different topic. “...Where you got a dragon?”

“What the fuck is a dragon?” The pharaoh immediately asked, then shook his head. “You know what? Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.”

“Okay…”

Beomgyu awkwardly twisted his fingers into the soft sheet below him, not knowing what to do. He had assumed that every one-on-one meeting with the pharaoh would consist of nothing more than sex, but the boy’s insistence on fucking with him made everything a lot more difficult. It was more of an annoyance than fear-inducing, mostly because this boy still had a baby face and didn’t seem to have a consistently evil personality, but he also knew this kid could kill him at any moment. And that was what made Beomgyu smile and nod his understanding to the pharaoh. 

“Oh, I have an idea!” The boy suddenly said. “Let’s see how many drinks it takes for you to pet my crocodile!”

A few days passed without any word from the pharaoh. Beomgyu lived every moment in anticipation that he would be called back to the boy’s room at any moment, but it turned out that anxiety was unfounded. Once he knew, he knew.

One day, while he was being bathed by two of the topless women, Beomgyu saw one of them grab a little cup of liquid from the cart and hand it to him. He looked back up to her in confusion, and she gave him a comforting smile. “Have you ever been with another man?” He shook his head. “Well, you’ve been invited to the pyramid today; this will help you.” She grabbed his free hand and held it over the cup. “Take some oil on your fingers…” As soon as he dipped two fingers into the liquid, she then moved his hand down toward his lap. “And go inside there…”

Beomgyu looked up at her and then back down at his hand, shiny with the oil. After a few seconds of internal deliberation, he did as instructed. 

There wasn’t much to think about. The only phrase floating through his mind was: it felt weird. 

Even though he had never done this before, it didn’t hurt. But it didn’t feel particularly good, either. It just felt different. If this was what it felt like to have sex with the pharaoh, then Beomgyu didn’t think he would mind it that much. Well, except it probably wouldn’t feel like this because the pharaoh’s dick was bigger than his fingers. 

“Does it feel good?” The woman asked, and Beomgyu shrugged. The woman behind him poured a bit more water over his shoulders and gave a short, amused laugh. “Usually people are much more afraid to sleep with him.”

Beomgyu pulled his fingers out of himself and closed his eyes with a sigh. “I’m last sex slave; he can’t kill me.” And honestly, even though Beomgyu spoke with confidence, he didn’t actually believe this was true. The women exchanged a silent glance over his shoulder as well, clearly not agreeing, either.

After getting clean and dressed, a few of the spearmen escorted Beomgyu from the palace and to the outside. Unfortunately, he didn’t get to see the sights and sounds of the marketplace again, and the path they walked was lonely. Sure, there were trees, flowers, and pretty statues, but Beomgyu still felt quite bored and lonely. He even tried to make a bit of conversation with his escort, but the man shut it down immediately. 

So Beomgyu quietly followed behind the man as they walked toward a large mountain in the near distance. Beomgyu had only seen the outlines of mountains carved into the sky behind layers of thick clouds, but he had never gotten close to one before. He didn’t realize how perfectly structured they were until he was standing directly below one. From base to tip, it was entirely white and stood out drastically from the rest of the ground. There were four distinctly angled sides that all drew upwards to meet at a sharp point. 

Beomgyu didn’t have much time to gawk, as the spearman pulled him toward a small hole on the side of the mountain. It led to a darkly lit set of stairs. For a moment, Beomgyu wondered if the palace was also made from mountains, because the material of the walls looked and felt the same. But this place looked untouched. The walls weren’t decorated or painted with the same strange images and colors as the palace was. 

“Don’t touch.” 

Beomgyu immediately pulled his hand from the wall and held it behind his back with a gulp. This man wasn’t as friendly as the rest, he thought. But there was nothing he could do other than obey and avoid. So, for a long time, he continued the long and arduous journey up the stairs without saying a word or touching anything but himself. 

Once they reached an opening, Beomgyu’s legs felt sore. Nothing could compare to the toll put on his body by his original captors, but his muscles had become so unaccustomed to exercise in the past months that he was very frail now. 

Stepping back under the sunlight felt nice on Beomgyu’s starving skin; he really wished he could go out more often, but he didn’t know if that was a bad request or not. In front of him, he could see nothing but orange sand and the heat creating a wavy illusion over it. 

“Go.” The spearman urged, still standing under the shade of the staircase. Beomgyu turned to his right where a few more stairs lay, inviting him upwards once more. When he began to climb it, the spearman didn’t follow. 

Unlike what Beomgyu saw from the bottom, it seemed that the very tip of the mountain had been cut off and replaced with a small, flat platform. Its floors were a polished gold color and there was a random fire on the left with a few black stoker sticks sitting in a basket in front of it. In each corner of the platform was a large potted plant, and it had been so long since Beomgyu was within arm's reach of nature that he wanted to touch it. But the spearman’s strict words replayed in his mind and he decided it was best to just do what he was told. 

In the center of the platform was a small bed with crisp white sheets and the pharaoh sitting atop. A few women surrounded him, some holding fans, some holding plates of food, and some feeding him with their bare hands. It was an opulence that Beomgyu still couldn’t understand. 

“Heraclides.” The pharaoh smiled when he noticed Beomgyu still standing near the stairs. “Come.” A wave of his hand was all it took for Beomgyu to immediately follow orders. But once he was at the foot of the bed, the pharaoh held his palm forward in a stop motion and Beomgyu stopped. “I want you to…pull your arms out of your sleeves, but keep the clothes on.” 

Again, Beomgyu did as he was instructed. The white fabric of his upper body draped over the golden belt around his waist, leaving his chest exposed but the rest remained covered. The pharaoh smiled at his subordination and stood from his place on the bed. As he walked toward Beomgyu, he grabbed a bundle of rope from one of the women. It made Beomgyu’s stomach twist up in anxiety, but he pretended not to be apprehensive. 

“You know what’s going to happen, right?” The pharaoh asked, but his tone was too excited for it to be a genuine question. He turned Beomgyu by the shoulders until the boy was facing away from him. “What am I going to do to you?”

After a small gulp, Beomgyu replied with monotony. “You’re going to tie me.”

“I am.” The pharaoh pulled both of Beomgyu’s arms behind his back and began wrapping the rope around them. From the top of his biceps to the bottom of his wrists, the pharaoh must have tied at least six knots around the fat of his arms. Each tie came together in one large line of rope down the center of his back, trailing the bone of his spine. Beomgyu waited for the pharaoh to continue down his legs, but the boy just grabbed him by the center knot and tugged him toward the edge of the platform. 

“The palace looks really small from here, wanna see?” But Beomgyu said nothing, knowing there was no choice. The pharaoh kept Beomgyu in front of him, uncomfortably close to the edge. He used his free hand to point at a building on the ground, and it looked tiny. Beomgyu’s eyes traveled down to the side of the mountain until he could see just how far they were from the ground. It didn’t really hit him until that moment just how unnatural this was. Humans weren’t meant to live so high, so dangerously, in a place where they could fall at any moment. His instincts told him to go back to the stairs or at least stay as far away from the edge as possible, but the pharaoh’s physical and mental grip was keeping him in place.

Suddenly, the pharaoh used that grip to shove him forward. Beomgyu immediately lost his footing and felt himself begin to fall, but the boy quickly pulled him back and began to laugh. Meanwhile, Beomgyu was still trying to console himself. He thought his legs might shatter from how much they were shaking. 

“Oh, your face was so funny.” 

The pharaoh pulled Beomgyu back toward the bed just as the boy was internally struggling on whether or not to kick him off the side of the mountain. It was incredibly clear that his life meant nothing to the pharaoh, and usually this would be an obvious but hidden fact. It was only annoying that this kid got some sadistic pleasure out of constantly reminding him. 

“You are a mean boy.” Beomgyu stated, and that made the pharaoh stop in his tracks. His hand dropped from Beomgyu’s back and the air fell silent for a few long moments. He couldn’t see the pharaoh, who was still lingering behind him, but the women each exchanged a few wide-eyed glances with each other and it made him nervous. A few seconds passed and the women suddenly left their spots for the stairs, pointedly avoiding any eye-contact with Beomgyu. 

The pharaoh grabbed the knot on his back again and pushed him forward until he was standing in front of the bed. Once there, he pushed Beomgyu’s upper body so it was bent over the sheets while his feet were still planted on the floor. “I want you to repeat what you just said.”

There was a horribly veiled anger within his tone that honestly scared Beomgyu enough to forget what exactly he had said. “You - You are mean.” He replied, but the pharaoh sighed. 

“That’s not what you said.” He pushed up Beomgyu’s dress and tucked it under the weight of his tied arms until the boy’s entire backside was on display. “I need you to know something. You may think I spared your life because you yelled at me, but no. It only reminded me that I hadn’t fucked you yet.” The end of his sentence shifted from clear anger to laughter in a single, worrying moment. But as soon as it came, it left. “Do you remember that word, hm? That’s what I said I would show you today. But I have to do something else, first.”

Beomgyu heard the other boy’s footsteps leave him, and he wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t sure what he had done wrong. For some reason, he had been under the impression that this boy held some type of affinity toward him, but looking back, of course that wasn’t the case. He had assumed Beomgyu was too young because they had no way to communicate , and was simply waiting for his opportunity to strike. Beomgyu had really fucked himself by being too honest. Now what? The pharaoh would fuck him and throw him off the side of the mountain for real?

“I didn’t want to do this until after we were finished, but you need it right now.” The pharaoh grabbed the fabric bunched around Beomgyu’s waist, tugging it up even farther to expose more skin. “Oh, and don’t yell when I do this. I don’t like loud people.”

Before Beomgyu had time to absorb those words, he felt a searing pain on the right side of his lower back. It felt like he had been stabbed with a sword covered with fire. His entire body tensed and he tried to push away, but the pharaoh held him still enough for it to not matter. When his vision became blurry, Beomgyu squeezed his eyes shut and forced the warm tears to roll down his cheeks. Somehow, he managed not to make any noise. Moreso because of the pain than because of any attempt to follow orders, though. 

After a few seconds, whatever was being pressed onto his body was released and the pharaoh stepped away again. Beomgyu lay in his pain for a few moments, but managed to shift his head back, only to see the pharaoh tossing one of the fire stokers back into its bin. He immediately faced forward once more and his eyes drifted to the edge of the mountain. The knowledge that he had just been burned and branded like livestock made him debate on jumping off the edge by his own choice, but he knew he couldn’t. The pharaoh was on a quest to humiliate him, but Beomgyu would still survive. He could definitely understand why the other concubines had wanted to murder this kid now, though. 

“Are you crying?” The pharaoh asked, and Beomgyu wiped his face into the sheets below.

“No.”

The reply made the pharaoh mockingly coo at him and reach down to wipe the tears from his cheeks like a mother. “You shouldn’t be shy. Maybe there’s something wrong with me, but…seeing you in pain, seeing you cry…” The pharaoh pressed a thumb between Beomgyu’s lips, his breathing becoming more labored. “It really turns me on…”

Beomgyu felt the tip of the pharaoh’s cock press against his ass, and attempted to relax himself through the pain that still throbbed through his body. Then the hand slipped from his mouth, wiping some of the excess spit over Beomgyu’s chin before softly running through his hair. “What am I going to do, hm?” And his voice was so sweet that Beomgyu truly thought he was imagining it. “I want to know, what do you think I’m going to do to you?”

Beomgyu squeezed his eyes shut again, wishing the pharaoh would just fuck him already and get it over with. “You’re…going to fuck me.”

“Why?”

That question sent Beomgyu into silence. He had no idea what answer the pharaoh was looking for. “...Because I’m cute?”

The pharaoh laughed and ran his fingers through Beomgyu’s hair again. “Because you’re my sex slave, βλάκας. But you’re cute, too.” With that, he finally began pushing himself into Beomgyu. It felt different from his fingers, the dick was obviously bigger, but he was oiled enough that it wasn’t too bad. If anything, the pain from his branding drowned out all other sensations, so Beomgyu mostly felt the pressure of the pharaoh’s dick pushing against the inside of his ass. 

The boy began fucking into him before he had even fully sheathed himself, giving Beomgyu zero seconds to adjust. He wasn’t sure what to do other than lay there and take what was given, but it didn’t seem to satisfy the pharaoh, who suddenly dug his thumb into the branding on Beomgyu’s lower back. Beomgyu immediately cried out and began writhing in an attempt to get away while the pharaoh held him in one place and continued fucking, no matter how tight he got.

When the boy let go of his branding, Beomgyu felt his entire body relax from its tensed position. It allowed the pharaoh to begin fucking him harder and deeper, and Beomgyu took it as well as he could. When the pain began to fade, it didn’t feel too bad. He could only hope for it to eventually turn pleasurable, or else he couldn’t understand why anyone would do this.

But of course, once he got too comfortable, the pharaoh dug his thumb into the branding again until Beomgyu started writhing once more. His arms tensed against the ropes, pulling away from them until his muscles were sore and the skin burning. 

The pharaoh grabbed the back of Beomgyu’s hair, pulling his face from the bed. “You like?” He asked, breathless from arousal, but still fully aware of the pain he was causing. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes!” Beomgyu yelled through gritted teeth, but soon fell back into his own language. “Yes, you fucking - motherfucker.” 

The pharaoh let go of Beomgyu’s branding again, giving him another moment of relief. “Ah…” The boy breathed, his grip tightening around Beomgyu’s hair. “You’re so cute when you’re angry.” He fucked into Beomgyu hard enough for the slap of skin against skin to surely be audible. “What fucking cave did they rip you from, huh? Did you have a family? Friends? Did you belong to someone else before you belonged to me?”

Beomgyu’s face scrunched up in anger from the questions. Instead of replying, he tried moving his hips back to meet the other boy’s thrusts and placate him. It seemed to work decently, as the pharaoh began moving a bit slower in order to watch him. And Beomgyu didn’t mind doing the work if it meant he wouldn’t be insulted. Honestly, he wished he had never learned Greek in the first place. 

“You - you fuck me.” He said, with some kind of intention to show his submission. 

The pharaoh let go of his hair and smoothed over the cowlicks that had popped up. “That’s right. I do.” He grabbed Beomgyu’s hips again and continued fucking him at a brutal pace, but Beomgyu barely felt anything due to the pain still on his back. “I’ll fuck you as many times as I want.”

Beomgyu’s cheek began to get rugburn from moving up and down over the bedsheet, but he felt too weak to lift himself. Luckily, the pharaoh’s movements soon stilled and he shoved himself as deep as he could fit inside Beomgyu. The sudden warmth of liquid spilling inside him was startling and Beomgyu tensed up again, causing the pharaoh to squeeze his hips harshly. When he pulled out, his cum immediately began dripping out, but he attempted to push some back in with his fingers. 

Beomgyu remained in the same spot, allowing that boy to play with his body. It was better than having him crush the spot he had branded Beomgyu, at least. And he was pretty exhausted anyway. 

Eventually, the pharaoh pulled Beomgyu’s dress back down over his lower body, but the feeling of cloth against the place he had been burned was extremely painful. The other boy didn’t notice or say anything, and instead began untying his arms. 

“Ah, I was mean, wasn’t I? Your hair is messy, your skin is red, your kohl is smudged, and you’ll have cum dripping down your leg, too.” The pharaoh spoke with faux-concern that Beomgyu didn’t have enough energy to reply to. “Just try not to get fucked by anyone on your way back. You’re mine, remember that.”

With that, he undid the last knot around Beomgyu’s arms and dropped the rope onto the floor. “Goodbye.”

Beomgyu couldn’t stop himself from glaring at the fact that he was being shooed away without even a minute to recover. But at least he knew he would have nothing to do for the next week, so he could recover then.  

But then what? Get fucked again? Live in solitude for another month until the pharaoh wanted to either kill him or fuck him some more? It was a bit hard for Beomgyu to comprehend what his future was, honestly. He lived in a perpetual state of confusion.

And…he kind of missed the other concubines, now.

Chapter Text

The first thing Beomgyu did when he finally made it back to his room was flop onto the bed perpendicular to how he was supposed to lie. The second thing he did was pull his dress up until it was bunched around his waist and not touching the burnt skin anymore. He still remembered how the cloth he had wrapped around his bleeding soles was painfully ripped off when he first arrived, so he didn’t want a repeat.

With a huff, Beomgyu pulled his face from the mattress and looked up. With such a one-track mind, he hadn’t noticed a little wooden box on the floor beside his bed. 

He had a feeling he knew what it was. And the little pang of excitement prevented him from resting any longer while it was still closed from his sight. So he lifted himself from the bed, wincing a bit when the cloth touched his fresh branding once again, and then kneeled in front of the box. It was tall enough to reach his shins and as wide as his waist. Though it had no outside decoration, the inside was quite enough to make up for it.

A golden glow erupted when he lifted the top, surely a reflection from the lit candles around his room, but still beautiful to his untrained eyes. Pure, sparkling gold inhabited the inside, neatly lined in rows for easy access. Most pieces were bangles, some thin enough for his wrist and some thick enough for his bicep, but both equally as pretty. Distinct designs were etched into the metal: snakes, birds, and even cats, but it only reminded Beomgyu of Soobin. Though the art of this land and the art of his brother both consisted of only nature, no man-made objects, they were still different. 

Soobin’s parasols were always of floristic scenes with an occasional dragon or fish, but the Egyptian depictions were always so iconographic. They presented specific animals and people without any background, action, or context. It made Beomgyu feel like he was worshiping something just by looking at it, and he didn’t like that. 

But he liked the jewelry.

Beomgyu slipped one of the snake bangles up his arm until it rested just beneath his shoulder. When he shifted his arm around, it shone beautiful and bright in his eyes. In comparison to the other slaves, he certainly had more now. And just like the pompous concubines he hadn’t liked when he arrived, Beomgyu felt superior to those bare servants. 

The feeling wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t so morally wrong. If Beomgyu was gonna take so much shit from the pharaoh, then he’d allow himself to be proud of the positives it brought him. 

With cum still drying over the insides of his thighs and a burning branding on the back of his hips, Beomgyu smiled at his presents. After all, it didn’t hurt as much as the time he had been bitten by a tiger.

A week passed, and Beomgyu was invited to a place he had never been before. As the guard led him through twists and turns of hallways he had never known to exist, Beomgyu realized just how little of this place he had actually explored or been introduced to. Though he had been here for months at this point, and thought he had become acclimated, had he really? No, probably not. After all, once the guard stopped outside of an entryway and motioned for Beomgyu to enter alone, the room was so dark that Beomgyu thought it was another poorly lit bedroom chamber. But when he heard the familiar-but-nearly-forgotten chirp of crickets, he realized this room had no ceiling. 

There were walls, of course, and even thick columns that he had seen holding the ceiling of every other inside chamber, but this time he could see the stars and moon in the sky and the gentle brush of wind against his hair. He had not seen the moon since he came here, but he hadn’t realized what he was missing until it was brought back in front of him. Suddenly, the inner chambers seemed stuffy and choking. 

“Do you like it?” 

Beomgyu’s eyes were drawn back down to the room in front of him. Its floor was filled with clear water and green lily pads floating atop, but there was a pathway in front of Beomgyu that led to a small platform in the center. Atop the sandy-colored stone was a white bed, but without any fabric or pillows to hide its discomfort, and the pharaoh lying atop that. He was on his side, facing Beomgyu, with an inviting smile. Beomgyu knew better than to trust it. 

“Yes…” 

“Then come.” The pharaoh motioned to himself. “I’ll bring you closer to the heavens tonight.”

Beomgyu wasn’t really sure what that meant, but it sounded like a good thing. He walked over the pathway with eyes skirting from side-to-side in anticipation for a crocodile to launch at him from the depths. A quiet snicker reverberated through such a clear night and Beomgyu easily heard it, no matter how loosely hidden it was. This fixation on seeing his fear and pain…Beomgyu didn’t really know what to do with it. If he could take advantage of this and turn it into a positive for himself, he didn’t know how. He had never been the witty one of his family.

Once he made it to the center square, the pharaoh shifted into a sitting position and patted his thigh without instruction. Beomgyu easily lifted himself into the boy’s lap, each shin on the hard bed below. But once he was there, the pharaoh didn’t do anything other than look into his eyes and hold his waist with a tight grip. Beomgyu would not have been able to move if he tried, but such security clearly wasn’t needed. 

He was left wondering what to do, if there was something he was supposed to do, but remained following the pharaoh’s example. Looking down into his eyes during a moment of purgatory wasn’t too bad, though. This boy was, objectively, the most intriguing person Beomgyu had ever seen. Different from himself and the other concubines, but different from all the guards and servants as well. He was unlike anything Beomgyu had ever seen and ever would see, and every material possession only enhanced that. A perfectly thick line of kohl around his eyes only made them look larger while the golden sashes tied tightly around his waist made his shoulders look larger and more imposing. 

“How does it feel?” The pharaoh asked, and Beomgyu frowned. 

“What?”

“Being above me. Do you like it?”

Beomgyu hadn’t really noticed that he was looking down at the pharaoh, but now that it had been mentioned, it felt strange. He didn’t exactly want to back down, no, he was just afraid that the pharaoh would force him down anyway. 

Still, he nodded. It brought a smile to the pharaoh’s face and his hands wandered over the back of Beomgyu’s dress before tugging its hem upward. “Did you prepare for today?”

Prepare?

Beomgyu opened his eyes into the widest puppy-dog gaze he could manage and then shook his head, hoping for mercy. He had been taken straight from his bed without much explanation, but if the pharaoh had expected something different, he wasn’t so sure he could provide. 

“Oh, they didn’t tell you?” The pharaoh pushed his bottom lip into a pout and returned Beomgyu’s pouty gaze. It worked better for him, being underneath Beomgyu already, but it was clearly fake. “But you’re going to let me fuck you anyway, right?”

Beomgyu closed his eyes, imagining how painful it would be. As much as he wanted to shake his head, he did the opposite instead. Maybe after this, he would get even more, better gifts. Maybe a different robe to wear now that he had had only two for so long. Maybe even one of a different color, something vibrant like he had seen royalty in his country wear. 

“You’re so obedient tonight, did you lose the fight you had? Did I tame you?” The pharaoh brought one hand to Beomgyu’s cheek, something too gentle for such an evil boy. 

“No.” Beomgyu tugged away from the pharaoh’s touch. He didn’t like the disingenuity of the night so far; maybe it was wrong, but he preferred the pharaoh to be his unapologetically fucked-up self. 

Just like that, as if the pharaoh had read his mind, he grabbed the back of Beomgyu’s hair and forced him to make eye-contact once again. “No? I didn’t? Then I should try again.”

“You should.” Beomgyu made direct eye-contact with the pharaoh, trying to project the intensity of a predator. It probably didn’t work too well with a face as soft and delicate as his, but the attempt was recognized when the pharaoh raised his eyebrows. 

It was a challenge Beomgyu knew he would lose, but it felt like the right thing to do. He hoped he hadn’t been misinterpreting Kai’s intentions, but didn’t he want a fight? 

The pharaoh placed a hand on each side of Beomgyu’s waist and lifted him until his weight was resting on his knees instead of the lap below him. Beomgyu felt strange to be even farther above him, a God, but he liked the discomfort. If anything, he wanted to be lifted higher. 

WIth the extra space between their laps, the pharaoh fiddled with the cloth of his dress for a few seconds before Beomgyu felt its fabric touch his lower thigh. Ah, the pharaoh had hiked it up in order to uncover his cock, and he was really going to fuck Beomgyu like this? Would it even be possible? He wasn’t so sure. It felt like a tight fit when he had been fucked for the first time, and he had been prepared that time. 

Oh God, it was really going to hurt, wasn’t it?

The pharaoh pushed Beomgyu back down to his lap. When his cock touched between the boy’s cheeks, he tensed. He was beginning to think his decision to be brave was a bad one, as they usually tended to be. If he were smart, he would have just gone along with whatever brought him the least pain. 

But his discomfort wasn’t only mental. The pharaoh was fast to snuff it out and take pleasure in any weakness shown. “Are you afraid?” A smile grew on his mouth as he pushed his cock up against Beomgyu once again. It didn’t have the chance to hurt just yet when it wouldn’t even fit inside, but he feared the pharaoh would tear him apart while forcing it in. “Are you scared it’ll be painful?”

“...Yes.” Beomgyu admitted, but only through the smallest puff of words. 

“Good, because I have a better idea.” The pharaoh took his left hand away and dipped it into a small bowl of oil sitting on the bed next to them. Beomgyu’s gaze lingered down on it; he hadn’t noticed it before, but the mere sight allowed him a sigh of relief. “You’ve been here long enough,” the pharaoh continued, “you know many of our customs and much of our culture. By now, I’m sure you’ve recognized all the ways we are superior to yours. So…tell me about it.” Oiled fingers touched over Beomgyu’s bare bottom, reaching his hole in warm wetness. He couldn’t help but unconsciously move forward, but the pharaoh’s grip on his waist kept him in place. “For as long as you tell me the things that are superior in my country, I’ll continue. But when you stop, I’ll fuck you.”

Beomgyu swallowed, knowing how much he needed this and how insignificant it was to the pharaoh. He would have to work hard; nobody else was going to help him. 

So he nodded, but the moment he was put under pressure, everything seemed to slip his mind. With the anxiety of looming pain in his future compounded by the requirement to remember cultural facts while speaking a language he still was not entirely fluent in, Beomgyu was fucked. His eyes traveled over their surroundings for inspiration, though he knew it wouldn’t keep him afloat for long enough. 

“Um, there’s a - ah,” as soon as he began to speak, the pharaoh began to push his finger inside. Beomgyu stuttered and stiffened, but a single finger’s glide was easy enough to penetrate while the pharaoh held him in place. “There’s - the - when buildings are made. Ours are made from wood, but yours are stone.”

“Hmm…” The pharaoh paid close attention to Beomgyu’s face as his finger slid fully inside. It was hardly enough to stimulate anything, but more than enough to distract Beomgyu from his words. 

“It’s - house. It falls down with wood, catch on fire with wood, but stays strong with stone.” Beomgyu continued looking at his surroundings as he spoke, huffing when he finally thought of something else to mention. “Erm, you clothing. Mine is only white, but yours has gold. Gold is prettier. Gold, I like gold.”

“I know you do.” The pharaoh pressed another finger alongside the first, even though it felt a little too soon. “You’re a greedy whore, aren’t you? But you’ll work for it just fine.”

Beomgyu didn’t reply to that, but he didn’t feel shame, either; it was true. 

“I work for it right now.” 

The words seemed to rile his pharaoh up, somehow, and he spanked Beomgyu’s ass with a full palm. He fucked his fingers into Beomgyu much harder and faster, sending the boy’s voice into nothing more than broken breathing. “Tell me more, what else are you gaining by being a whore?” His words were aimed at Beomgyu’s pride, but completely missed. 

“Food.” Beomgyu replied, honestly. It felt impossible to formulate an entire Greek sentence right now, but he needed more preparation before he could reasonably take a cock. “I had same food every day: fish and rice…and now - now not the same. Now, I can have fig and bread and olive and - and -” he struggled to remember the names of more dishes, but he couldn’t connect words to the images in his mind. “Um, and - you have s’many more people. In my village was only one hundred people. In your village is, like, thousand…”

The pharaoh laughed and added a third finger. Even though it was definitely too soon, Beomgyu couldn’t believe he had even made it this far.

Unfortunately, he had no idea what else to say.

He racked his brain through and through, but there was nothing. Beomgyu had been kept captive in this castle without firsthand knowledge of the town outside of it. All of his information came from the pharaoh and himself; if there were any other differences, he had no idea.

“Is that the best you can do?” The pharaoh sighed and pulled his fingers out of Beomgyu. There was no feeling of emptiness or even looseness. The place his fingers had stretched would be only slightly better than if he had not helped Beomgyu at all. “Horrible.” The pharaoh smacked Beomgyu’s ass again, and the sound resonated through the quiet night’s air. The sting wasn’t pleasant, but he would probably forget he had even been spanked in a few seconds. 

And, sure enough, the pharaoh didn’t waste time in pressing his cock right back to Beomgyu’s hole. It was his property to do with whatever he pleased and Beomgyu was not going to stop him. He simply placed his arms over the pharaoh’s shoulders and closed his eyes, ready for the pain. 

The tip felt like a blunt blade; it was difficult to split him open, but much more painful once it did. The rest of his cock was a bit easier to take, and the pharaoh was at least kind enough to go slow. But with the way he stared at Beomgyu’s pitiful expression as he did, it was more likely his sadism than generosity. 

By the time Beomgyu was fully seated on the cock, there were tears slipping over his cheeks. He hadn’t intended to cry, but the pain alongside the mental pressure of not moving was too much to handle. The pharaoh pressed his thumb underneath Beomgyu’s eyes and wiped to the side in order to clear his face of any smudged makeup. When another tear dipped over the edge of his lower lash line, the pharaoh tsked. “You’ll learn to appreciate this more.” Whether this referred to the empire or the pharaoh himself was yet to be seen, but Beomgyu didn’t really care. He just wanted to get fucked and get his presents.

Beomgyu held onto the pharaoh’s shoulders for some type of grip and pushed himself up with shaky thighs. “I…” His voice wavered with the discomfort, but he forced himself to lift partway up the cock and drop back down. The pressure pulled a broken whine from his throat and several more tears down his cheeks, but he continued the movement. “I appreciate, I love it.”

The pharaoh squeezed his ass for a few moments, spreading it apart and squishing the skin between his fingers even though he couldn’t see his own work. “Yeah? You love it?” Beomgyu nodded. “You love being a whore for me more than being a little fisherboy, huh? Tell me, are you happy?”

“Yes…” Beomgyu continued fucking himself down on the pharaoh with shallow humps. It was probably the most power he would ever hold over this boy, but it was enough. He could feel the stabbing pain ebbing away, leaving behind a simple ache. He didn’t think the pharaoh had even noticed. Good, because he would surely attempt to remove that slight comfort if he knew.

“Why?”

Beomgyu groaned and tossed his head back before replying. “I’m happy because you give me things.”

The pharaoh gave an amused laugh and one last squeeze to Beomgyu’s ass before pushing the cloth off the boy’s shoulders and revealing the bare skin he wanted. The fabric bunched over the sash around Beomgyu’s waist, but it gave enough of a canvas for the pharaoh to paint. “You’re so dumb; I love it. I love an honest boy.” 

With that, the pharaoh leaned down to Beomgyu’s chest and nipped at his nipple. The immediate tingle it sent through Beomgyu’s nerves was the first true pleasure he had felt that night. It surprised him enough to use his grip on the pharaoh’s shoulders to push away, but of course the boy only wrapped his arms tightly around Beomgyu’s waist and pulled him back. When he pressed his lips to Beomgyu’s nipple once more, the tingles returned intensely. He pushed back again, but the pharaoh’s grip wasn’t letting up. 

It was so unusual for Beomgyu to feel pleasure that he didn’t know what to do with himself. Part of him feared the pharaoh would stop if he knew how much it was turning him on, but another part of him knew the pleasure would make this sex so much easier. He had stopped moving for now, seated down on the pharaoh’s cock and overwhelmed, but he tensed up as soon as the pharaoh lightly dug his teeth back into the skin. 

Beomgyu writhed enough for the cock to slip out of him, and he didn’t even notice until one of the pharaoh’s hands slid from his waist to his ass. He gave it a hard smack and said something in a language Beomgyu had completely forgotten. The most he could muster was to reach back and push the pharaoh’s cock back into himself before weakly attempting to bounce. 

“Ah, I hate you, motherfucker~” Beomgyu spoke in his own language, but his words held no malice. 

The pharaoh grabbed him by the chin and pressed two fingers into Beomgyu’s mouth when it lolled open. “Stop fucking speaking that dirt language in front of me.” And instead of fighting back, Beomgyu simply closed his mouth around the fingers and began to suck on them like he would with the pharaoh’s cock. He was perfectly satisfied to remain there until the pharaoh orgasmed, but that didn’t seem to be enough for the other boy. 

He pulled his fingers from Beomgyu’s mouth and lifted him into his arms. When the pharaoh stood from the bed, he brought Beomgyu with him, who had his legs wrapped around the boy’s waist. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting while being afraid of the pharaoh dropping him, but it didn’t happen. The pharaoh took only a few steps before kneeling and laying Beomgyu onto the floor with his back to the ground. While he took the time to lift his dress again, Beomgyu spread his legs and waited with a wandering hand. 

Now that he knew such an easy thing could bring him pleasure during painful moments, he wanted more. He ran a finger over his nipple and lightly pinched it as the pharaoh began to press back into him. Stimulation from different angles and areas made his back arch prettily, but it was all cut short when the pharaoh slapped his hand away and pinned both wrists to the stone flooring below.

“You don’t touch there, only I do.” 

Beomgyu had the strong urge to grab the pharaoh’s face and force him to make Beomgyu feel good, but he refrained. He would get presents after this, he was sure, so the pleasure had been enough. Beomgyu could take a pounding now. 

And he did. Because the pharaoh held his wrists down to the stone as he fucked into him as hard he wanted to. Each crack in the stone dug into Beomgyu’s back and shoulders as he was consistently thrusted against the ground. The movement up and down the stone caused his dress to bunch up even more, and the few jewelry pieces he had adorned himself with were annoyingly jangling. 

It didn’t hurt anymore, but Beomgyu knew it would be by the next morning. If he were lucky, though, maybe the pharaoh could fuck out all the pain receptors in his ass and allow him to fuck without feeling anything at all. 

It was a short time before the pharaoh emptied himself inside Beomgyu with hips pressed as close as they could possibly fit. The warmth was uncomfortable and almost burning, but Beomgyu didn’t feel particularly upset by it. He was only mildly annoyed at how hard the pharaoh gripped his wrists when he orgasmed, surely enough to bruise them. 

“What is that look for?” The pharaoh asked once he had enough presence of mind to even notice the boy still underneath him. 

Beomgyu shifted his arms and the pharaoh let them go before leaning back on his feet. Sure enough, there were little red splotches across Beomgyu’s narrow wrists. “...You’ll have to buy me more things to cover this.”

The pharaoh watched him for a moment before gently laughing. He was still a bit out of breath, but his mood seemed to be much lighter after releasing. “Almost no other whore has ever asked me for gold so directly. They’re always too afraid of being murdered.”

That was a valid fear, Beomgyu thought, but the pharaoh had never gotten angry at him for mentioning wealth before. He must have simply been lucky.

“Now…” The pharaoh stood, becoming an imposing figure over Beomgyu in an instant. “Go back to your room.”

“Are you flexible?”

The pharaoh asked so casually, Beomgyu could have easily believed he was simply talking about food. In fact, there were tables of food in front of them right now; the most exotic and colorful dishes Beomgyu had never seen or eaten before. His gaze hadn’t left it since he entered the dining room and was invited to sit on the pharaoh’s lap. And it seemed that while Beomgyu’s mind lingered on filling his stomach, the pharaoh lingered elsewhere. 

He hadn’t touched anything, which meant he hadn’t fed anything to Beomgyu, either. It was frustrating. And as soon as Beomgyu heard this question, he knew he wouldn’t be able to eat for a while. It was most likely that he would be on his knees for the pharaoh soon and his lunch would be cum, but that was fine. Everything was fine. 

“Hello?” The pharaoh flicked his forehead. “Do you speak Greek or not, boy?”

“Eh…I don’t know if I’m flexible. I’ve never tried to be before.” Beomgyu ignored the pain in his forehead and continued gazing at the food, hoping his pharaoh would understand what he wanted. He probably did, but refused to give it to Beomgyu because he was evil. 

“Give me your hand.”

Beomgyu immediately held his hand out, palm upward. Instead of grabbing his palm or wrist, the pharaoh grabbed the tips of his fingers and pulled them backwards as if he were trying to break them. Beomgyu tugged his hand back on instinct, but the pharaoh only did it again. And at first, with so many slaves in the room and the knowledge of how the pharaoh didn’t like to be scolded in public, Beomgyu only cringed without a sound. It was after a few seconds that he realized the pharaoh was staring at him deeply, waiting for a reaction. 

“Ow!” Beomgyu pulled his hand away again and held it to his chest where the pharaoh couldn’t get back at it. It drew the attention of nearby slaves, just as Beomgyu thought it would, but he wondered if they knew how the pharaoh enjoyed such attention or if they thought Beomgyu was simply being dramatic. 

The pharaoh’s stoic face shifted into a tiny, satisfied smile, and he wrapped his arms around Beomgyu’s waist to pull him closer. “I just want to know, so I can know what toys to bring.”

Beomgyu frowned in confusion. “Toys? To bring where?”

“Greece. I’m thinking of all the ways I can fuck you while we’re there. I want each time to be different from the last, and, well, we’re running out of easy positions.” 

“You didn’t tell me we were going to Greece.” Greece, this place the pharaoh had mentioned so many times, with such admiration.

The pharaoh tucked his face huddled close enough to Beomgyu’s neck that he could feel the laughter on his skin. “Should I go tell my hairbrush that I’m bringing it as well?”

Beomgyu wanted to say yes, just to spite him. Didn’t hairbrushes deserve the same respect as servants if they were doing so much free labor? 

“Mm…do you want some bread?” The pharaoh suddenly changed the subject, but that was great for Beomgyu, actually. He vehemently nodded, but immediately regretted it when the pharaoh fed off his excitement and pointed at the floor. “You can have some after you make me cum.”

That was the only information Beomgyu was given about their trip for a while, long enough that he nearly forgot about it.

Beomgyu didn’t even know they were leaving until they were leaving. He had been taken outside, under the bright, shining sun, by one of the guards without any of his belongings other than those he happened to have been wearing. Well, most of his belongings were accessories, yes, but he had collected enough that it would have been nice to bring extra in case he wanted options. 

Within his little bubble of having sex with the pharaoh and receiving gold, Beomgyu never forgot where his true place was. When the guards led him to a carriage with hospitality servants, Beomgyu didn’t believe he deserved anything better. When he was placed on a large boat with hundreds of other people, Beomgyu may have thrown up several times, but he still didn’t feel like he deserved any better. He was born a peasant, after all, and that would always run through his blood. He could have his body taken by a royal, but he could never be one. As it was, he would simply absorb any of the wealth his pharaoh decided to spend on him.

When he finally arrived in the new empire, Beomgyu was just as taken aback by its beauty and opulence as he had been when he first arrived in Egypt. But they were very different. From what he had seen, Egypt consisted of much bare land and sandy hills punctuated with various huge pieces of architecture. Greece was more consistent, with a white stone flooring as far as Beomgyu could see and rows of buildings equal distance away from each other, even though they were not as tall or grand as the Egyptian buildings. 

It reminded Beomgyu of a conundrum he often found himself in while living in his homeland; should he eat two fishes one day and starve the next? Or eat one fish each day and never feel quite full? He never knew the answer.

The streets of Greece were far less packed than Egypt, but there also didn’t seem to be a market in sight. Actually, Beomgyu had no idea what the buildings around them were. He simply followed their little crew of people as they walked down the street, this time everyone was walking. Except the pharaoh, of course, who remained in his own carriage. 

As everyone stopped walking in front of the same building, Beomgyu did, too. A few of the guards led the pharaoh into the building first, and Beomgyu took the time to admire their new home. It may not have been large enough to fit Beomgyu’s entire village, like the pharaoh’s palace, but it was certainly big enough to fit the entire marketplace. There was not another building for quite a distance, but it was still in sight. Because of such proximity, there were already several guards roaming around the grounds and a few would surely be inside as well. 

Finally, when the slaves were allowed entrance, Beomgyu followed the rest inside. He was immediately struck by how open the home was, and he immensely preferred it to the confined life he had been leading before. The centerpiece of this home was an open garden with a vibrant blue fountain and green hedges, trees, and bundles of multicolored flowers. It was perfect for the weather, Beomgyu thought, considering how temperate it seemed to be. If he was going to be allowed the choice of where to be while the pharaoh did his duties, Beomgyu would surely love to be here. In the garden.

“Hey.”

Beomgyu turned to see one of the guards behind him. 

“The pharaoh wants you. He’s in the second room.”

Already? It had been less than ten minutes. But still, Beomgyu thanked the man and followed the direction he had motioned for the pharaoh to be in. Sure enough, the boy was standing by an open hole in the wall. It was just tall enough to shower light on his face, thankfully. Beomgyu was a bit scared to be stuck in another room with no way to tell the time of day.

“Pharaoh~” Beomgyu lightly called for his attention, and it seemed to work, but only somewhat. The pharaoh turned with crossed arms and looked at Beomgyu. Just looked at him without saying anything. “Did you need me?”

“Where are you sleeping tonight?”

Beomgyu shifted his head toward the door. “With the other servants, right?”

“No.”

“...Then where?” Beomgyu really hoped he wouldn’t be sent to sleep outside or in another house, but he would have anticipated those replies more than the one he actually received. 

“You’ll sleep with me.” The pharaoh took a few steps forward and placed his hand on the pillow of the bed next to him. “Usually I sleep with…well, usually I don’t sleep alone. So you have no choice. You have to sleep with me.”

“Oh…” it didn’t sound that bad, but- “will you kill me?”

The pharaoh shook his head. “Will you kill me?” Beomgyu returned the headshake. He would never put his own life at risk just to kill the pharaoh. “Good, but I’ll still have a guard watching.” The boy sat on the edge of their bed and patted the spot next to him as if he hadn’t just admitted how much he distrusted Beomgyu. 

Of course, obedient Beomgyu sat on the bed as he had been commanded, even with doubts lingering in his mind. It was far more likely for the pharaoh to murder him than for him to murder the pharaoh, but he supposed it was far more important if the pharaoh died than if he did. It made sense.

“I have a busy schedule, which means you do, too. First, I have an audience with the Oracle of Hermes. Then, an audience with Demetrius I. And…then I have something special to pick up for you.” The pharaoh punctuated his sentence with a squeeze to Beomgyu’s thigh, meanwhile Beomgyu had forgotten everything the pharaoh said as soon as he said it. He knew nothing about…well, anything. 

“Are you sure, uh, that I’m allowed to go with you? It sounds kind of important…”

“Of course you’re allowed if I want you to come. But truthfully, I just don’t want you here alone.” The pharaoh shrugged. “So you be good and do as I say.”

Without waiting for a reply, the pharaoh stood and grabbed Beomgyu’s arm before dragging him to the opposite side of the room. There were a few large black vases with plants sprouting from the tops and little human figures painted around its exterior. “Look at this.” The pharaoh placed one hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder and pointed to the pottery with his other hand. “Do you know any of those people?”

“No…” Beomgyu tiredly replied. He already knew where this was going.

“You don’t know Apollo?”

“No.”

The pharaoh hummed, pretending as if he were truly intrigued by Beomgyu’s ignorant existence. “Then what do your people worship? Dirt?”

Beomgyu knew he shouldn’t truly entertain the pharaoh and his evil games, but he did anyway. Neither of them would ever see this culture again, so it would only be fair to speak of it. “We worship things like…the sun and moon, the dragon, um, stuff like that…”

“Oh, then it makes sense why your people still live with stones. How can they worship things that can’t speak back to them? Of course they’ll receive no guidance.” Beomgyu frowned even though he had been expecting this. “But you’ll learn.” The pharaoh patted his shoulder. “When we see the oracle, you’ll understand why it’s important to communicate with the gods.”

Chapter Text

When Beomgyu visited the shaman in his homeland, it was a private matter. He traveled through the woods for hours in order to find the woman alone in her abode and when they performed rituals, it was only the two of them. When she told him the answers he sought, he was the only one to hear her words.

Besides, all his questions were about fishing and selling. Particularly after his father died, Beomgyu needed the reassurance that he could handle their food on his own. Sure, he may have been a thirteen-year-old adult by the time his parents were murdered, but adjusting to the patriarchal role was still difficult. 

But none of this really mattered anymore. None of his past, none of his culture, it didn’t matter in front of the pharaoh. So as they arrived at the Oracle of Apollo, Beomgyu kept his thoughts to himself and his mouth shut, as was expected of him. He just couldn’t help but judge them.

The pharaoh had brought an entire entourage of guards, slaves, and consultants to stand behind him as he spoke to the oracle, but neither was she alone. Beomgyu didn’t know who the men standing around her were, but they dressed in pretty, red robes that draped all the way to the floor. One held a scraggly scroll of papyrus and a pen, closely watching the woman who sat upon a tall, three-legged seat. 

Maybe it was rude, but Beomgyu couldn’t stop staring at her. She had a few similar features to the spearmen, such as her lightly colored eyes and skin, but her hair was the same shade of gray that Beomgyu had only seen in the clouds before a storm. Her skin looked different from his, not only in color, but in texture. Instead of soft, tight skin, hers was loose and wrinkled like clothing that had not been set out to dry correctly. She just looked so interesting; he couldn’t keep his eyes away. 

The Pharaoh spoke, but Beomgyu didn’t really listen. In all honesty, he wanted to go back to their pretty white home and sit down in front of the Pharaoh, maybe kiss his dick a few times, and then eat. Ah, a fig would taste really nice right now…it was such a sweet fruit, but with a texture Beomgyu much preferred to persimmons. Maybe, if he were really lucky, the pharaoh would take him to see the market. Beomgyu knew he would never get to buy anything there, much less ask the Pharaoh to buy him something, but it would still be fun. He could see how these great countries operated differently from his own. Greater than his own. 

“Hermes holds an affinity toward travelers, but are you a traveler if this is your home?”

Beomgyu glanced back to the oracle when she spoke. Though she used some complex words, he was proud he had advanced enough to understand her. At first, he was proud. But then he was worried. People didn’t talk to the Pharaoh like that. A light scolding tone came too close to condescension for her to leave here alive, right? Even Beomgyu himself had nearly been killed when he called the Pharaoh a boy. 

But the Pharaoh didn’t seem too affected. His lips curled up slightly at the same moment his eyes narrowed, both familiar signs of his annoyance. But, for possibly the first time in his life, he held restraint. “I may have been born here, but it’s not my home. For fifteen years I’ve worked for the gods in Egypt; I hardly know anything else.”

“Even Oedipus did not think he had a home in Thebes.”

Beomgyu didn’t know what that meant, but saw how the Pharaoh’s jaw tightened. With a quick glance to the oracle, he tried to convey somehow for her to stop. But without a shake of the head or a finger motioning a slice to the neck, Beomgyu’s subtlety surely did not portray the dire situation she was in. 

“This is not a fable.” The Pharaoh countered, and the tone of his voice had become clearly strict.

“But you come to ask for a city that has only ever been written about, not seen. I’m only staying on theme.” 

“Tell me where Atlantis is.”

How the hell was this oracle still alive? There was no way she had more power than the Pharaoh, right? Beomgyu took in a large breath, puffing his chest out, before nervously releasing it. The room felt extraordinarily tense and Beomgyu could feel the Pharaoh reaching his breaking point. If there was no way for the Pharaoh to kill the oracle, Beomgyu wouldn’t be surprised to see the boy just…walk out. Like a stomping, angry child. 

“Past the Pillars of Hercules, submerged deep in the ocean where no human can reach. It’s a great wonder of the world with many wonders within it, but all have been lost to time.” The oracle hesitated, sending the Pharaoh a pitiful look. If she wasn’t holding a grudge for the way the Pharaoh spoke to her, then she was a better person than Beomgyu. “My young King, I know you want to hear information that is not yet known, but the house of Hermes can best read those who have come from foreign lands.” She motioned toward the entire entourage in front of her, her sleeve hanging loosely past her seat. “Your loyal servants have come in support of you and this is where my abilities lie. I’ll tell you what the gods are saying, and it may aid your case.”

The Pharaoh nodded, seeming placated for the moment, but his eyes were still slightly narrowed at her. 

“He, who lets himself get bitten by the snake, will be able to see not only his future, but his past as well.”

Only then did the scribe begin to copy her words with a steady hand. Black ink contrasted harshly with the beige paper and large letters made it easy to read even from Beomgyu’s distance. He recognized the words, but not the riddle. If it even was a riddle, he didn’t know, he only hoped. Because being bitten by a snake to the point of prophesying would surely hurt. 

“Is that it?” The Pharaoh asked, and the oracle nodded. Her scribe had already aired out the papyrus like a dirty cloth and rolled it into a scroll; though the Pharaoh was still annoyed, there wasn’t much he could do. 

So he smiled with a huffed breath and bowed to the oracle before leaving the room. It happened fast enough that his personal servants had to scramble after him, but Beomgyu was unimportant enough to remain in his spot for a while longer. If only to stare at the oracle and then quickly look away when her eyes met his. They held softness, but her status was intimidating enough to keep him fearful. 

The scribe offered the scroll to one of the Pharaoh’s guards, who promised to keep it safe for their journey home, and then each of the remaining guards and servants began to exit the room. Beomgyu remained at the back, and even glanced at the oracle one last time just to see her softly smile at him. He didn’t speak, didn’t return her smile, and simply turned back to follow the rest of his people out of the room. What a strange woman. But a strange situation entirely. 

When they returned to the home, The Pharaoh sat in his courtyard surrounded by the luscious flora that had been brought in for decoration. Like a tiny oasis, there was the calming sound of a small waterfall pouring into its marble basin below, the pretty sight of green leaves, bushes, and miniature trees planted into the moist and healthy dirt. There were even many exotic flowers in different beautiful colors and shapes, some as soft as the fur of a tiger cub, some as spiky as an angry porcupine, and some as hidden within the bulb as a frightened turtle. 

But within the beauty sat the Pharaoh, and he never seemed to notice what treasure surrounded him. He sat in his hard marble chair as Beomgyu stood behind him and one of the guards kneeled in front of him. It was nothing more than luck and the smallest amount of the Pharaoh’s favor that spared Beomgyu from the same fate as the guard.

“You were born in Alexandria, yes?” The Pharaoh sat lackadaisically with his cheek resting on his hand and legs spread regardless of what it may show. 

The guard nodded, and the Pharaoh motioned for another guard to come forward. A viper’s head was harshly squished between his fingers, keeping it from escaping, though the rest of its body had wrapped around his forearm like a vine. Its mouth was already open with such long and extended teeth that scared Beomgyu terribly. His worst nightmare was that the thing would slither out of the man’s hold and jump right at Beomgyu’s face, but he tried not to think about it too much…especially knowing that the Pharaoh had picked this snake especially for its venom.

Sandy scales with dark gray diamonds over its back seemed quite benign to Beomgyu, as he had always learned to avoid the brightly colored snakes, but he was in a different part of the world with different rules and different animals. Maybe the fauna in this land only pretended to be innocent in order to lure people in, he wouldn’t be surprised. 

The kneeling guard did not react when the other came close to him, though his arms were slightly shaking. Even when the snake dug its teeth into his wrist, he didn’t do much more than grunt. 

After that, it was quiet. Nobody dared to speak, and all breaths were drowned out by the gentle waterfall. Even Beomgyu found himself nervously biting the skin from his bottom lip as they waited for the venom to travel through the poor man’s body. 

And it did. He first began to groan in pain. He clutched the place he had been bitten, smearing the tiny drops of blood that had collected, and squeezed the skin. He scratched and picked with more fervor than Beomgyu had been expecting, and then the discomfort all over his body caused him to clutch at everything. It was clear that he wanted to shrivel up into himself and only didn’t because he wanted to save some honor in front of the Pharaoh. Beomgyu felt bad for him, but was more relieved that he wasn’t in his place. 

“Are you seeing anything? The past, future, are the gods telling you anything?” Another guard grabbed the man’s shoulder to keep him upright and continued to interrogate. The Pharaoh seemed quite disinterested already, and twirled a chunk of his hair around his finger instead. “Tell me, do you know anything?”

Though the guard repeated himself several times, the man made no use of himself. He had nothing. His pain increased until his face was scrunched up and he vomited on the floor.

The Pharaoh sighed and waved the servants over. “Take him outside and continue questioning. The rest of you, clean that up.”

Beomgyu remained behind the chair, watching as the rest followed their orders. Good thing he didn’t have to touch the vomit, ew. Being a concubine was definitely better than being a servant. 

With another deep sigh, the Pharaoh leaned back in his chair and spread out a bit more to get comfortable. There was a little red mark on his cheek from where it had been touching his hand and it almost made Beomgyu smile. Every time the Pharaoh’s little facade of power and aloofness was even slightly cracked, Beomgyu felt strangely endeared. No matter how much this boy pretended to be a man, he was still just a boy. Even if nobody else in the world knew that, Beomgyu was satisfied. 

“I don’t feel like doing anything else today.” Ah, there it was. Abandoning responsibility wasn’t the temperament of a ruler, but Beomgyu would keep it a secret. Well, at least between him and the Pharaoh’s personal servant. They made brief eye-contact from where they stood behind the chair, but were soon drawn back to the Pharaoh. “Heraclides needs to tell the craftsman to come deliver his present straight here. I’m not going out to get it.”

The servant leaned forward, keeping his voice a hush. “Will he be assigned a guard? He has quite exotic looks; it may be too easy for someone with bad intentions to take him.”

“I don’t care.” The Pharaoh immediately replied. “I don’t want to see him right now.”

“What did I do?” Beomgyu pouted. The other two simultaneously looked up at him, one with severe annoyance and the other with pleading eyes, and Beomgyu lowered his head in submission. Now was really not the time to prod at the Pharaoh, huh? Well maybe he’d be in a better mood later, then. “I mean, I’ll go. Thank you.” Beomgyu sensed that no reply was coming from either of them, so he turned to the front door, straight away from the courtyard. “Oh, wait! Where am I supposed to be going?”

“You’ll be going to Agathos’ shop in the market.” The Pharaoh pulled the cloth on the hem of his white dress as he spoke. “Do not ask him to give you your gift. Tell him to bring it here, do you understand?”

“Yes.” 

Without reply, the Pharaoh shooed him away. Beomgyu pouted at the boy’s bad mood, but quickly followed his orders regardless. As he followed the outside streets to the market, his bright golden jewelry shone so prettily under the sun, so much they were nearly sparkling. He held his wrist forward and shook it a bit, watching the white dots shimmer across the golden bands and bracelets. For a peasant to have such opulence, one would surely say he was favored by the Pharaoh or even the gods themselves. Beomgyu couldn’t help but wonder what the royalty of his homeland would think about him now. 

The people in this land did not dress as lavishly as those in Egypt, as Beomgyu noticed. The marketplace was filled with men and women dressed in long, flowing white fabrics. But none were dripped in chains and sashes of gold, what a bummer. It seemed boring to Beomgyu, as the peasants in his homeland were the only ones forced to wear nothing but white. If they had all the options in the world, wouldn’t they choose something prettier?

“Beomgyu?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened as a frown pushed his eyebrows down. The fuck? That wasn’t even his name anymore. Nobody knew him by his name. Though it could have easily been a hallucination, Beomgyu’s eyes wandered through the marketplace. With so many people dressed the same, it felt impossible to pick one out from the crowd. Tall, lithe, fair skin, white clothing…

“Beomgyu!” The voice called him once more, and then Beomgyu felt himself being turned around and pulled into a hug. The sudden jostling jingled his jewelry against each other, but Beomgyu felt his ears get foamy when he heard Korean for the first time in months. “How did you get here? How long have you been here?”

Beomgyu teared up, only remembering that voice from his dreams. He pulled away to see the person’s face, to see Soobin standing in front of him, and quickly wiped the blurry wetness from his eyes. His brother still kept a single hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly, and Beomgyu knew him well enough to recognize how Soobin was holding himself back from hugging him once more. But Beomgyu couldn’t; if Soobin’s face disappeared from his sight, he was worried the boy would cease to exist. “Soobin…” Beomgyu’s smile became larger in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“I just asked you that.” Soobin’s eyes traveled down to Beomgyu’s clothing and accessories, eyes becoming large. Only then did Beomgyu realize how different they looked. Even though his brother had made it into this big city, his white dress was tattered and dirty. His knees and shins were bruised, his hair knotted and clumped, and there were even a few scars and fresh cuts over his skin. Beomgyu’s smile slowly faded and he gently grabbed Soobin’s hand, drawing it off his shoulder. Though he had previously had delicate, soft, and clean fingers in order to paint, they were now scabbed and bleeding. Even the palm was slightly calloused from hard labor. Beomgyu had always done the labor for them so Soobin could keep his grip and strokes purposeful with his paintbrush. To see them hurt made Beomgyu irrationally angry. 

“So tell me, where have you been? Where did you get all these - things?” Soobin urged. 

Beomgyu squeezed Soobin’s bigger hand in his own. “I’ve been…” Oh, how could he say this? “Well there’s an emperor in a foreign land…far away from here, but even farther from our home. I work for him now.”

Soobin’s expression shifted, though it wasn’t necessarily negative. “...You’re not catching fish for him, are you?”

“No.”

“I knew it. I knew this would happen one day. I should have sold you first…ah, then I would have benefited from it.”

Beomgyu allowed himself to laugh at Soobin’s misfortune, but only for a moment. While holding Soobin’s hand, he could feel the scars against his own soft skin. As much as he liked to insult his Pharaoh, he did take good care of Beomgyu. Faced with the realization of what could have happened if he weren’t sent to Egypt, well, Beomgyu understood now. “What…what have you been doing?” He asked, cautiously. 

“Mm…” Soobin frowned. “I was first working with the builders. Lifting stones, breaking rocks, things like that. But I guess one of our overseers thought I was more nimble than the rest, so he sent me to work for a furniture craftsman. Now I help him work on items and then deliver them to those who ordered. I came to the marketplace to sell! So…it’s not bad.”

“But you’re hurt…”

“It’s a laborious job, of course I’ll be hurt.”

Beomgyu frowned. “But you don’t enjoy it, do you?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

Soobin pulled his hand out of Beomgyu’s gentle grip, but Beomgyu grabbed the fabric by his waist to keep Soobin near. “We can run away.”

“What?” Soobin flicked one of the golden bands around Beomgyu’s bicep and scoffed. “Why would you leave all this behind to run away? We’d either be caught and killed or die in the wilderness anyway.”

Okay, Soobin may have the gift of thinking things through more than Beomgyu could, but he underestimated how stubborn his younger brother was. “I would rather stay with you and die than to be separated again.” His fist tightened, balling up the fabric of Soobin’s dress. “You can’t change my mind. Even if I’m laboring with you, we must stay together.”

Soobin closed his eyes with a deep sigh. For a few moments, he left Beomgyu to gaze at him and wait for a reply. 

But as Beomgyu gazed at Soobin’s face, the more he noticed things he had never looked at before. His cheeks had thinned out since they had seen each other, but it gave Soobin a more mature attractiveness. The fat under his eyes had softened and melted into the rest of his face; they were no longer the first thing to stand out on him anymore. Even his lips seemed to have filled out a bit more from their previous thinness. 

And yes, it was all hidden behind a thin layer of dirt, but Soobin had really grown into himself. Beomgyu wondered if he looked similar. He really hoped he did, and not just because he wanted to be attractive, but…

“Actually.” Beomgyu released Soobin’s clothing and wiped his palms down the front of his chest. “I have an idea. By tonight or tomorrow, I’ll be back here. You just wait!” He pointed at Soobin, slightly startling him, and then smiled brightly. “I’ll be back for you!”

When Beomgyu arrived at the home, the sun was beginning its descent. Still, its rays shone brightly over the courtyard as if it were still morning. The Pharaoh lay atop a marble platform, much like the one he had in his own palace. The memory sparked an image in Beomgyu’s mind, one where he sat on the Pharaoh’s lap and painfully rode his dick. He could still smell the fresh lilypads and hear the nighttime bugs chirping around them as they did that night. 

The guard standing closest to the Pharaoh did not allow Beomgyu to enter very far before alerting the Pharaoh to his presence. Beomgyu stopped walking, about three horses away from the platform, and waited to see the reaction. 

The Pharaoh glanced at Beomgyu with eyes narrowed from sleepiness, but seemed much calmer than before. Instead of sending Beomgyu away, he lay on his side to face the boy. Again, he rested his cheek in his palm and though he didn’t look that intimidating, Beomgyu still found his heart racing. 

He looked down at the ground and naturally held his head low. “Pharaoh, have you thought about getting any more concubines?”

Hardly a moment passed before the Pharaoh began laughing. Beomgyu recognized it as one of those laughs, one that meant Beomgyu had done something wrong, but was cute enough to escape any wrath. “Ah, you lack so much tact. Why are you asking me this, do you not enjoy warming my bed?” Beomgyu bit his bottom lip and finally met eyes with the Pharaoh, who still smiled in amusement. 

“Well, I - uh, I found a boy in the marketplace and I just thought…he looks like your type.”

The Pharaoh’s eyebrows rose and he perked up, shoulders straightening. “I’ll have someone bring him to me, then. What’s his name?”

Holy shit. That was much easier than Beomgyu anticipated. It kind of threw him off-guard, too. “Oh, I don’t know his name here - I mean, I don’t know his name.”

Shit, Beomgyu was so stupid. He could immediately sense the shift in atmosphere when he slipped up. The Pharaoh raised an eyebrow at him and made a tiny “hm” before gazing off at one of the flower bundles nearby. “If I have to pull the truth from you, then I might as well have you killed.”

Beomgyu pursed his lips. “You don’t have to pull the truth from me, I’ll tell you. His name is Soobin.”

“Is he from your village?”

Beomgyu nodded, though the Pharaoh still wasn’t looking at him. “He is…well, he’s my brother.”

Again, the Pharaoh gave a little “hm” before fully replying. “And does he look like you?”

“Well, I -” Beomgyu reached a hand to his cheek. “I don’t know what I look like.”

The Pharaoh sighed and turned to the guard closest to him before secretively speaking toward his ear. The guard nodded and approached Beomgyu quickly, grabbing his bicep and yanking him toward the farest edge of the waterfall’s basin. He bent Beomgyu over the edge, causing the boy to yelp. For a moment, he truly thought he was about to be drowned, but he was simply held in place. “Look. Have you never seen still water before?”

Beomgyu frowned. No, he hadn’t. He had only seen murky and constantly moving water, how would he have ever been around a man-made waterfall before?

“Look.” The guard shook Beomgyu’s arm. “You can see yourself.”

Oh. Beomgyu’s eyes widened. There was something looking back at him. A small face, pouted lips, circular cheeks…He actually did look like Soobin. Kind of. His eyebrows were lower than Soobin’s and his eyes weren’t as round, but…someone like the Pharaoh would probably never notice. 

“He looks like me!” Beomgyu called out, but he then dug his hand into the water and splashed it around until his reflection was not visible anymore. It was too creepy to see himself. “I promise you, he looks like me.”

The guard released Beomgyu, and Beomgyu immediately turned to the Pharaoh. “He is tall and soft and - he obeys orders much better than I do!” 

The outburst caused the Pharaoh to suddenly laugh. He placed a hand over his chest and finally sat up completely. Just as Beomgyu suspected, there was a little red mark on his cheek again. “Okay, I’ll have him brought here, then.”

“Oh!” Beomgyu excitedly smiled. “He can also paint! I remember, the other concubines had talents, so…he does, too!”

“And what’s your talent?” The Pharaoh suddenly asked. 

Beomgyu frowned. He wasn’t the candidate for the harem, so why the hell was he being asked that? “Uh, I don’t have a gag reflex?”

Luckily the Pharaoh laughed at him again. “Ah, no. This is your talent.” He motioned vaguely, but at nothing in particular. Beomgyu didn’t really know what that meant, but he would take it. “Now, listen. I’ll have a look at your brother, but you cannot be in the room. You can go…water the outside plants with the slaveboys.”

Beomgyu nodded and his smile grew with his excitement. “Thank you! Thank you!” If the Pharaoh liked Beomgyu, there was no question that he would like Soobin, too. With a newfound hope, Beomgyu exited the courtyard and joined the slaveboys, as he was told.

Unfortunately, Beomgyu wasn’t sure when Soobin arrived. He was behind the home for most of the evening, and was only called back in after the Pharaoh was done looking at Soobin. By this point, Beomgyu’s bottom lip was a bit raw; he couldn’t stop sinking his teeth into it just to quell some of the stress. He really believed the Pharaoh would like Soobin since…honestly, Soobin was cuter than a lot of the boys who had been in the previous harem, but there was still just a touch of doubt that kept him worried. What if the Pharaoh rejected Soobin? Beomgyu wouldn’t be able to bear the separation. He would certainly run away with his brother even if they died. 

When the guard led Beomgyu back into the home, he didn’t walk in the direction of the courtyard. Instead, he led Beomgyu to the bedroom he and the Pharaoh had been sleeping in. 

Shit, he didn’t expect that. It must have meant that the Pharaoh had fucked Soobin, or at least made him suck dick. It was natural, human, and…well, Beomgyu knew Soobin would have to do that if he entered the harem, but still. It made Beomgyu uncomfortable. 

When he entered the bedroom, the Pharaoh was standing by the opposite wall once more. He gazed out into the moonlight with arms crossed and a tiny pout still present on his lips. “Go away.” He suddenly said, and Beomgyu was afraid that he had done something wrong. “I only want my concubine here.”

The guard nodded and left the room, leaving Beomgyu confused. The Pharaoh had never wanted to be alone with Beomgyu before, so what was the deal? Beomgyu hesitantly stepped forward, wringing his hands together like a scolded child, until he was behind the Pharaoh. He didn’t speak or move any further, but knew the other boy would eventually tell him what he needed to know. 

“...I bought him.”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened and then a toothy smile grew on his face. “You did!” He excitedly repeated. But then his previous worries appeared. Though he didn’t know where they were coming from, his smile began to fade. It made no sense. He should have been extremely happy about this. He just couldn’t help but ask: “...Did you…touch him?”

“Oh, you’re jealous.”

Beomgyu took a step back and scoffed. “No, I’m not. I’m not jealous.” 

“Yes, you are.” The Pharaoh’s smile could be heard through his words. “You want to keep all my presents to yourself, you greedy greedy boy.”

Well, okay, that was true. Beomgyu cracked a bit of laughter at that, admittedly, but he couldn’t let the conversation derail. “But I’m serious! Did you touch him?” He grabbed the Pharaoh’s sleeve and tugged on it a bit before realizing that he was getting too familiar. Immediately, he let go and pressed his arms down to his sides. 

The Pharaoh dropped his arms as well, but in a much more relaxed state than Beomgyu. “...I didn’t. I had him paint for me.” His voice quietened. “His hands were shaking very much and his lines were not straight. To be honest, many of the harem boys I had before were better.” Beomgyu frowned. Soobin had always managed to create intricate and detailed paintings. His wrist never quaked, he painted on paper parasols for fuck’s sake. But his hands were injured and he must have been nervous…maybe that was why the Pharaoh kept him. He could see the potential. “I bought him anyway so I could…make you happy…” 

The Pharaoh took in a deep breath and immediately backtracked. “I don’t want to see you pouting for the rest of eternity! It’s not good to have a little dark cloud following me at all times; I only wanted to avoid that.”

Beomgyu’s smile turned smug, but he dropped it once the Pharaoh turned to him. “Don’t say anything about that conversation or I will kill you. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about something.” Beomgyu nodded, not really afraid. “When Amitrochates was here, when we were celebrating my marriage, I saw him do something interesting. He and his wife touched their lips together; what do you think about that?”

He looked down at Beomgyu with pure curiosity and even a hint of eagerness. But Beomgyu was a bit more hesitant. He had never heard of touching lips together and it sounded weird. Wouldn’t it be awkward to stand there, staring at each other, unable to speak, and breathing all over each other’s faces? 

“I want you to do it with me.” The Pharaoh urged. “No - you don’t move. I’ll do it to you.”

Beomgyu nodded and then stared up at the Pharaoh, waiting. “And close your eyes, too.” Again, Beomgyu nodded and followed the instructions. He was already cringing, just waiting for the embarrassment to come. He really wasn’t sure what to expect, but what actually happened was certainly not it. Nothing more than a warm and slightly wet press of lips against lips for less than a second. Beomgyu barely even got enough time to register what had happened, and certainly not enough time to know if he liked it or not. 

But when he opened his eyes, the Pharaoh was standing proudly. A smile settled onto his lips, slightly ornery, as if they were doing something taboo. “Okay, now do it to me.” The Pharaoh closed his eyes, but the cute smile didn’t leave. Beomgyu had to step on his tippy toes and lean forward to reach the Pharaoh, but he did, hesitantly and slowly. And once he was close enough, he closed his eyes before pressing their lips together fully. 

Both of their mouths remained shut and innocently devoid of lust. Beomgyu found that it wasn’t as bad as he anticipated. Yes, he could feel the Pharaoh breathing against his skin, but he kind of liked being this close to the Pharaoh. Only because it was exhilarating to have the boy vulnerable in front of him. If Beomgyu opened his eyes, the Pharaoh would be under his microscope. 

But Beomgyu respected the close-eye rule. By the time he pulled away, the Pharaoh was still smiling. “What do you think?”

“It feels kinda weird…” Beomgyu touched a finger to his lips, wondering if he had bitten them too much today. But the Pharaoh didn’t seem to notice or care. He grabbed Beomgyu’s hand and tugged him to the bed. 

“Let’s do it again!”

The Pharaoh loomed over Beomgyu with a smug expression curling over his face. “Do you like your present?” His voice was so condescending, but Beomgyu, lying on his back with thighs tied against his waist and wrists tied in front of his chest, didn’t have the gall to call him out. The Pharaoh thrust his “gift” inside Beomgyu again, causing the boy to cry out and toss his head back. From this angle, he could see a poster on the wall behind him; a paper with a small dot in the Atlantic Ocean. But all words and thoughts, especially those in Greek, had been taken from his brain. 

“Tell me.” The Pharaoh demanded. “Tell me how much you’re thankful.” 

He fucked the toy in and out of Beomgyu, drawing each pretty noise from his equally pretty lips. When Beomgyu arched his back against the ropes, they left little red marks against his skin, but they never remained for long. Kai wanted to keep rubbing them into Beomgyu’s pretty skin. Over and over, he wanted to and he would. 

“I like it!” Beomgyu writhed over the covers, sweat dripping over his neck from the edging. The Pharaoh had been toying with him for so long, he thought he would really pass out once he did get to cum. “Please~ I’m so thankful, thank you!”

The Pharaoh pulled his gift out of Beomgyu and gently sat it on the bed next to them. Even in his haze of lust and sleepiness, Beomgyu caught a look at it. 

Ha. A golden dildo was his gift, huh. At this point, Beomgyu couldn’t be surprised by anything. 

The Pharaoh appeared over Beomgyu again, looming in his view. In his hand was a beautiful necklace, and he held it over Beomgyu’s face like a treat. The chain was silver, but it had crystal clear gemstones embedded throughout. Even under the low light of the torches, it shone brilliantly. Beomgyu could only imagine how it would look under the sun. 

“Which one do you want more? To cum or to have this? You can’t have both.”

Beomgyu immediately cried out, wailing at the horrible treatment his Pharaoh gave him. The boy smacked his thigh and dropped the necklace even closer to Beomgyu’s face as his free hand gently touched the tip of Beomgyu’s cock. “Which one~ shiny jewels or cum?”

Beomgyu’s hips moved against the Pharaoh’s touch. Just barely gentle enough to keep him on the edge without tipping him into an orgasm. 

“...gimme jewels…”

The Pharaoh laughed and dropped the necklace next to Beomgyu’s head. “You’re so predictable. I’ll give you this, but now you can’t cum.”

“Fine!” Beomgyu huffed. “Let me go to bed, then!”

“Oh, you misunderstood.” The Pharaoh slowly wrapped his fingers around Beomgyu’s cock. “You’re forbidden to cum, but I’m still going to play with you.”

Out in the harem room, as Soobin painted a sea of sand and white pyramids in the distance, his movements paused at the sound of Beomgyu’s scream. 

But, then, he continued to paint.