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Chapter Text

The explosion threw him overboard. He managed to see his fleet ablaze and the water burning before hitting the surface of the lake. The first thing he felt was the frosting bite of the water, then its darkness. He was rapidly sinking in the pitch-black water as if someone was grabbing his ankles and pulling him under. He tried to move his legs and arms, attempting to swim to the surface but to no avail. It was the first time water had betrayed him. Chen was born in a fishermen village, on the coasts of the Yellow sea. He learned to swim before he learnt to walk, or so his father used to say. “We will make a great fisherman out of you, my son” he told him on his first time at sea. Maybe he could have become a great fisherman, like his father wanted, he could have married one of the girls in the village, who always smelled like fish and seasalt, and his life would have been peaceful. But even in his young age Chen knew he was destined to be great. He chased greatness so Heaven blessed him with his sacred Mandate, and Heaven would not allow his defeat. With stiff fingers he grabbed the heavy helm and pulled it off his head. He instantly felt lighter and moved his legs and arms with renewed vigor. He could see the light of fires on top of him, one or two strong strokes and he would have reached the surface. His ears were ringing and it felt like his lungs were about to explode; both things suggested he was far deeper underwater than the he had believed. He gave the thought no mind: he was a skilled swimmer and could hold his breath a long time, as long as it took, even if the surface was still far away. Back in his village, Chen used to play with his friends, and their favorite game was diving. They lunched themselves to the bottom of the sea in a bust of bubbles and the cheerful sea water brouth them back up without them even having to swim. Chen kept swimming because it was all he coud do. He couldn’t see the fires anymore and, for the first time, he realised he didn’t know where the surface was. Bubbles escaped his nose and mouth as panick sinked in. The grip of lake water on his feet became stronger, ghost fingers tightening onto him. He shook his feet, moved his arms and sank even deeper in the still, dead water. More bubbles escaped him, he couldn’t breathe. He tried to undo his armor closures with no result. His finger where stiffed by the freezing water. Even if he had been able to move them, he would not have managed to open them nor take off the armor on his own. He reached out in the dark, the red flame of the Heaven’s Mandate brightened the black lake. That was the proof he was still worthy, that he would not die. From the black water, as if recalled by his flame, something glided forwards. The lake became even colder, Chen’s entire body shivered, the Mandate’s flame trembled and died out. He screamed and water filled his mouth and his lungs. He tried to hold onto his destiny: he will achieved excellence, he would not die. The Mandate pulsed in his fist, when he opened his palm inside there was a flame. It was small, pale yellow in color, similar to a candle’s light. He shed light on a ghostly face that had belonged to someone he one knew. He stared at Old Guo and the ghost stared back. The light trembed and when it stilled again Little Guo had joined his father. More ghosts came, following the Mandate’s light. Chen recognised some of them, most he didn’t know. He tried again to swim in a desperate attempt to reach the surface. The ghosts watched him until the little candle light, that once was the proof of his destiny, trembled again and then died out.

Chapter Text

Ouyang woke up in Zhu’s ger, his body felt numb and heavy. His tunic was open, bearing his chest. Under his nipple, he could see a red line. The skin there was slightly raised and felt sensitive to the touch. Zhu had refused to cut him but suggested something different. Ouyang did not tremble when he heated the razor over a flame nor when Zhu pressed the burning metal onto his skin. It was an acute kind of pain that exploded in a mind-numbing agony. He had lost count of how many times the hot razor had bitten his skin but his chest was full of neat red lines.
«Oh, you up! I have salve for your burns if you like». Zhu was sitting nearby, a parchment in front of him and a brush in his left hand.
«What time is it?» Ouyang asked.
«It’s still dark ouside» he said. «Here, drink some water».
Ouyang accepted the bowl Zhu held out. After their encounter he always insisted for him to drink and then checked his wounds. When he finished the water, Zhu approached. His slim womanlike fingers touched and probed every wounds. The touch was gentle but made him hiss in pain notherless.
«Did I scream?»
«You were very quiet in the beginning, you moaned when I did this». His finger traced one of the worst burns. It was on the forearm, almost touching the jade and golden pearls bracelet. Zhu finger lingered on the raised skin, then brushed against one of the pearls. Ouyang withdrew as if he had been burned again. The silence in the ger was heavy.
«It belonged to Esen-Temur, didn’t it?»
Ouyang felt like he couldn’t breathe, the everypresent ache in his heart, the very same Zhu had managed to mute, came back in full force.
«Do not speak of him» he snarled.
«Peace, General» Zhu calmy replied. «I do not wish to bring up painful memories I just wanted to know about someone that was important to you».
That made him grimace. «Why? He is dead, I killed him».
“I held him after” he didn’t say.
«I know».
«Then why are you asking? » he asked, aggression clear in his tone.
Zhu was sitting on his heels, his expression unflappable.
«What are you going to do after you kill the Great Khan?»
«I will kill him and my family will be avenged» Ouyang said.
«I know».
«Then why...»
«I will offer you a place in the new world I’m going to create if you so wish» Zhu said. Then, before Ouyang could spit on his offer, he spoke again. «But I know you do not want that».
Ouyang stayed silent.
«You seek pain but what you really want is to stop hurting and we both know there is only one path that leads to not suffering» Zhu said. «What I’m asking, General, is if you wish to be buried with Esen-Temur after your death».
A heavy silence fell between them.
«Do you think I want to be buried with my master, with the son of the man that killed my father and had me cut like an animal?» he hissed enraged.
“Do you think Esen will want to be buried with the thing who betrayed him? The one he used to call a friend?” he didn’t say.
Zhu calm expression did not change.
«I think you want to be with him and he with you».
His broken heart ached and Ouyang remained silent for a long time.
«Bring me a map» he asked.
Zhu got up and quickly went to get what he’d asked for. Ouyang’s finger traced the Yellow River’s shoreline, near the ruins of Bianliang, and stopped in that place similar to the steppes, where Esen rested.
«Here. I stuck his sword into the ground up to the hilt. The grass will be tall when you will go looking for him».
Perhaps the grass was also tall in the steppe of Heaven where Esen was riding. Where he was waiting for him.

Chapter Text

Lady Ki’s execution was a superb spectacle, every member of the cout attended. The Great Khan himself listed her crimes and issued the punishment. Baoxiang didn’t wach her, his eyes were on the Third Prince. He was by his father’s side, stoic and silent, apparently unbothered by his mother’s screams. Just the unhealthy white color of his face revelad his true feelings. The execution ended and the Third Prince followed his father. Baoxiang returned to his residence where Seyhan whas waiting for him.
«What will you do now?» he asked.
Baoxiang didn’t know. When the Great Khan ordered the cup to be given to his son, he tought that another piece of his plan was falling into place. Then Lady Ki, with her scream, signed her confession. The Great Khan ordered that the cup was removed from his son’s hands and the Third Prince lived.
«I was certain the Great Khan was going to let his son die» Baoxiang said.
The Great Khan hated his son, he wanted him dead because his nature disgusted and bringed shame upon him. Baoxiang knew all of this to be true and yet the Great Khan spared his son. Something eluded him, blinded by the kindship he felt for the Third Prince he failed to notice that they where not the same person. Nor were his father and the Great Khan.
«Perhaps the Great Khan will kill the Third Prince once he has another male heir» Seyhan said.
Baoxiang had considered the possibility and dismissed it. The Great Khan was an arrogant man, one that would not have considered precarious his position just because he had no living sons. In his mind, getting rid of the Third Prince, an unfitting heir, shoud have been a small thing.
«I made a great miscalculation» he said. His error made him feel stupid. He could almost hear Esen’s voce taunting him: “You thought you were so smart and you made such a idiotic mistake!”
«So, what will you do know?» Seyhan asked again.
«I still have the Third Prince’s favor, for the time being I will just go on as before».

«I did not call for you» said the Third Prince after a servant annunced Baoxian’s presence. It was a stange thing to say considered that, for some time, Baoxiang visited the Third Prince every other night and without needing an explict invitation. A feeling of uneasiness took hold of him. He couldn’t be sure after all that Lady Ki didn’t speak to his son to make him aware of their plan. If she had talked then the Third Prince knew where the medication came from.
«You want me to leave?»
The Third Prince didn’t move from the carpet where he was half sitting half laying, his back resting on the cushions.
«Stay» he ordered, then reached for his cup nearby with a clumsy movement and knock it on over. The cup spilled, a red wine stain spreading on the carpet. The Third Prince cursed. Baoxiang approached, took the cup and refilled it with the almost empty jug he found near it. He offered it to the Third Prince and watched as he brought it to his lips. A shiver runned down his spine because this was the exact reenactment of the events occurred just the day before. For a moment he expected to hear the ghost of Lady Ki screaming her terrible “No!”. But the room was quiet and the Third Prince drank. His cheeks where flushed, his gaze unfocused and he smelled of sweet wine.
«You’re drunk» Baoxiang stated.
«So what» the Third Prince replied. «I can be drunk if I so wish».
He sat near him, they did not speak for a long time then the Third Prince said, abruptly: «I’m not sad».
With horror, Baoxiang realize his unfocused eyes were filled with tears. He didn’t know if he would be able to console him, his vulnerability made him uncomfortable.
«I’m not sad» the Third Prince repeated. «She didn’t love me so I don’t care, I don’t care she’s gone».
Baoxiang’s numb heart ached as if the man’s pain was weaking his own. Did he not think the same? His father didn’t love him, nor did Esen, they heated him so Baoxiang was not sorry that they were dead.
«I don’t care» the Third Prince said again with the trembling voice of a child and Baoxiang couldn’t help himself. He touched his wet cheek and, when the Third Prince leaned forward, he held him and not let go.

The following days it was clear that the Third Prince was in no fit state. He rarely left his palace or his bed for all it mattered. It must have been a while since he had taken a bath, he ate little and drank a lot. His mood was grim and he seemed to want nothing. On that day Baoxiang forced him to take a bath and eat something. The Third Prince washed his lunch with some wine but he seemed more sober than on the other days.
«You shoudn’t drink so much» Baoxiang said. «It can’t be good for you».
He didn’t understand why he felt the need to play nursemaid.
«Who cares?» the Third Prince reply, dismissively.
«I care» replied Baoxiang. If he had died, he wouldn’t have cared but since the Third Prince was alive their destinies where tied together and he was dragging him down.
«Do you now?» There was skepticism but also hidden hope in that question.
Baoxiang didn’t reply.
After a short silence he asked cautiously: «Did you speak to your father?».
A bitter expression flashed over the Third Prince’s face. «The Great Khan spoke to me, yes. He wanted to know if I knew my mother’s plans for the Emperess».
«Did you?» Baoxiang asked, trying to hide his anxiety.
«Anyone could have know her plans! Don’t tell me you were surprised».
«No, I wasn’t» he said quietly.
«Now will you tell me she did it for me? Because she loved me?» The questions were spat in anger. «She didn’t want to lose her position but even if ther plan had suceeded the Great Khan will have never chosen me as his heir. He told me so, you know? The only reason I’m alive is because he doesn’t have another son, but when he will he will replace me, maybe even kill me. He hates me!». The Third Prince was out of breath.
«So, what you are going to do?» Baoxiang asked. Instead of compassion he only felt cold anger.
«What?»
He felt for him the same disgust and anger that he once felt for himself and he hated it.
«You are going to sit here and whine?»
The Third Prince stared at him with a baffled expression but soon it was replaced with one of indignation and rage.
«How dare you?!» He grabbed his wrist in a boneshattering grip. «I’m you’re prince!»
Baoxiang didn’t struggle, when he spoke his voice was cutting. «You are not acting like a prince, but as a boy who didn’t get what he wanted. You are just waiting and whining for someone to give you your destiny. You must act and take it!»
The grip on this wrist became even stronger.
«What can one like you know about reclaiming his destiny».
Baoxiang stared at him, then on his palm erupted the black fame of the Heven’s Mandate. The Third Prince yelled and let go of his wrist.
«This can’t be» he whispered.
«I know who I am and I know my destiny» Baoxiang declared.
«What about you?»
«I...»
«You want to remain on the sidelines and watch as the Great Khan gives the throne that is rightfully yours to another? Or you will get up and take possession of your destiny?»
The Third Prince stared at the black fames as if he couldn’t belive it was real.
«The Great Khan will never proclaime me his heir» he said.
«You are already his heir, blood of his blood, flesh of his flesh. If he happens to die you will reign». And the lonely vision that was Baoxiang future suddenly changed to include someone he had not foreseen. The Third Prince should have died yet he lived. His blood was noble and his birthright recognised.
«You speak of treason» the Third Prince wispered.
«It’s not treason because it’s you who have my loyalty». He exstingued the Mandate’s flame and continued to speak. «You can reign, you just need to want it, and when you’ll have the throne this nation will be shaped like you decide». Baoxiang was offering him a world where he didn’t need to hide who he was. «Ayushiridara, my Khan» he said and then he bowed low, his forhead pressed to the floor.
The room fell quiet, a hand touched his cheek and made him raise his head. His gaze was heated: he wanted Baoxiang and the future he promised. Their lips met in a hungry kiss. When their kingdom will come it will made the world tremble.

Chapter Text

Baoxiang dreaded the hunting trips that his father and brother were so fond of. Any other day he would have left the hunting party to find a quiet place to read, but today he couldn’t. He looked at his father riding alongside the Great Khan. Atlan's exile and Bolud's subsequent loss of favor had benefited Chaghan.
His father had asked him if this was his doing, and he hadn’t denied right away. Instead, he challenged his father.
«Do you think I woud do such a thing?»
«Just answer me, did you do it?»
Esen answered before his brother could.
«I don’t think he did».
Chaghan asked how the cheetah could have been dead if Baoxiang had nothing to do with it. Esen answered easily. The animal had been chased and hunted for days, giving it no respite. He could have died of fatigue, of thirst. He might have been ill. Nothing suggested the involvement of Baoxiang. After their father left the ger, Baoxiang said: «What if I told you it was me?»
«What?»
«What if I did kill that stupid beast and I blamed it on Atlan, what will you do? Will you tell father? He will surley disown me, maybe even kill me, and you won’t have to put up with this embarrassment of a brother».
Esen’s puzzled look soon turned horrified.
«You are not an embarrassment».
Baoxiang snorted. «Please, you don’t even belive it».
Esen had the decency to look guilty.
«I just don’t understand...»
Baoxiang was prepared to hear the usual speech he could have recited himself: he was a decent archer, why not try harder and make their father happy, why not leave the books aside for once and try to behave like the honorable Mongolian that his father had raised him to be?
Esen stopped himself, he took one breath and the said: «I know you didn’t kill the cheetah».
«How can you be so sure?» he asked, slitly annoyed. He prouded himself to be impercrutable, the idea that his brother was able to read him bothered him.
«The same way I was able to tell when you touched my thing when we were little - I know when you are lying and you dind’t this time. We grew up together, I know you».
Baoxiang looked at Esen, who was riding right behind their father. He knew Chaghan still suspected his envolvment in the cheetah’s death, but Esen was right: for once, the event completely blinsided him. He enjoyed Atlan and Bolud’s disgrace, but was a bit annoyed it happened without his hand having to force fate.
Esen looked over his shoulder; his eyes lingered on Baoxiang and then onto something behind him. He followed his gaze and foud the General. Must have been the fist time they hadn't ridden together.
When he returned to look at his brother, the Third Prince was right next to him. They were talking but he was too far behind to hear them. Surley the topic of conversation was something dull, the current hunt or the battles Esen had fought.
«Brother, come closer!»
The the call came unexpectedly but he pushed the horse closer anyway. Now he was riding beside Esen, he didn't remember it being something that had happened before.
«Greetings to the Third Prince» he said.
«Greetings to Lord Wang» The Third Prince replied. The tone was almost bored but the eyes were focused on him. He was watching him with a disdain Baoxiang was used to but there was something else in his gaze that he couldn't grasp.
«The Third Prince was inquiring about you» Esen said, uneasy.
«This humble servant is not worthy of the Third Prince's interest» he replied, trying not to show his nervousness. When men like the Third Prince showed their interest in him, it was usually to humiliate and mock him.
«I'm just amazed that you decided to participate in the hunt. Many say that you don’t enjoy men’s activities and prefer books instead. Some go so far as to say that you don't know how to use a bow, but I'm sure it's just rumors».
Baoxiang saw Esen’s cheeks blushing with embarrassment. He must have felt his brother's humiliation upon him, unable to defend him because the words spoken were true.
«I'm sure your grace is not the kind of man who listens to gossip. I can use a bow and I know you can use a sword, even if someone could say otherwise».
He could see Esen's cheeks turning pale.
«What is your meaning?», The Third Prince asked, his tone dark.
«Everybody expected you to win against General Ouyang», Baoxiang replied.
«The Third Prince won all the other match, it was impressive» Esen said, clumsily. His brother had never been a good liar.
«Sure it was, as I said, one shoud not listen to gossip», Baoxiang said.
The Third Prince didn’t reply but his expression promised that that small victory would not be worth it.

The hunt eventually came to an end. The Third Prince never left his side and required one demostration after another of his bowing abilities, mocking him loudly whenever he missed his target, witch was often. Baoxiang had never shot well under pressure. He cought nothing while The Third Prince had four or five birds secured to his saddle. Eventually he growed tired of tormenting him and joined his father and the others in pursuit of the bigger animals. Baoxiang was glad when the party returned to camp. He decided against participating to the celebratory dinner and ate in his tent. The summoning from the Third Prince caught him by surprise and scared him, sure that he would be further punished.
He wished he coud refuse, instead he got ready and he arrived at the Third Prince’s ger.
The servants announced him and he was let in. He had expected the Third Prince to have company, friends who would witness the new humiliation he had in store for him, but there was no one save for a few servants. Like that, alone and whitout his light armor on, he looked more like a boy than a man.
«Lord Wang, come, join me» he said, after after dismissing the servants.
Baoxiang sat down next to him, the disgust in the Third Prince's gaze clouded by the fog of alcohol.
«You think they let me win, right?»
«My prince?»
«The tournament. You think they let me win».
It was exactly what he thought and what had happened.
«Of course not» he said.
The Third Prince chuckled darkly.
«Liar» he said then then he emptied his cup of wine. He placed it on the table too close to the edge and it fell to the ground with a thud. Baoxiang finched at the sound, his reaction did not go unnoticed by the third prince who laughed.
«You scared? Yet you seemed so brave this morning». He poured himself another cup, spilling most of the wine on the table.
Baoxiang didn't know what to answer nor what this boy could want from him. He offended and disgusted him but if the Third Prince wanted to punish him or hurt him, what was he waiting for?
«Is there something you required, my prince?». He asked.
What do you want from me?
The Third Prince drank, then licked his lips. His eyes, yet clouded, were almost hungry.
«I heard stories about you, you know».
«About my inability with the bow or the fact that I do enjoy reading?» he asked. The staring was making him uneasy.
«Yes, about that. And other things».
His eyes lingered on his lips and, finally, the missing piece of the puzzle slit into place. Baoxiang reconised what was hidden under the Third Prince disgust: desire.
He felt his face turn red with anger and shame, he wanted to curse the Third Prince but couldn’t. He stood up, with the intention of leaving the ger even though he had not been discharged. The Third Prince was probably too drunk to remember the next morning anyway. As he stood, the man stood with him and grab him by the elbow. He struggled, and the sudden movement caused the drunk man to lose his balance. He found himself unprepared to support the prince’s weight and they both fell to the ground, the Third Prince lying on Baoxiang. He could smell the wine on his breath as he felt the erection pressed on his tigh. He was too stunned to move.
The Third Prince looked at him and grinned.
«I knew you wanted this».
Their faces were close, their lips almost touching. Baoxiang moved his head forward and struck the Third Prince's nose with his forehead. One time, many years ago, he’d done a similar thing to Esen, one day when they were sparring.
«Nice job» Esen had said, one hand holding his nose.
The Third Prince cursed and backed away enough for Baoxiang to push him off.
Baoxiang stood up, looked at the man, his nose bloody and his eyes filled with hatred. He fled the ger.

A year later, after his father death, after Esen’s death, they met again at court. The Third Prince gaze held the same disgust and the same desire. “I remember you” his eyes said. The darkness Baoxiang surrounded himself with seemed to laugh. “Good” he tought, “I remember you too”.