Archive of Our Own ^beta

**

He’s running as fast as his seven-year-old feet will take him, trailing his hand on the wall as he tries not to trip on the steps of the endless spiral case. The floor is cold and hard beneath his feet as he jumps the last steps. The sound of his jump echoes in the large hallway. As he starts running on the red carpet leading to the great hall, he’s blinded by the sun shining from the windows. He runs through the specs of dust that are being highlighted by the warm sunlight. He keeps his hand on the wall, tracing the cracks he finds in the stone. As he turns, he scratches his hand on a sharp corner. He doesn’t stop even though he knows his palm is bleeding. The horns are blowing. His father is finally back home.

He pushes the heavy door to the great hall open with his bloodied hand, leaving a red mark on the golden elephant covering the exterior of the door. He runs to the front of the room where his mother and sister are already standing.

“Pat stop running!” His mother scolds him once he gets on top of the landing at the far end of the hall. It’s dark here but the candlelight manages to illuminate the deep frown on her face.

“Is he here already?” He asks wiping his hand on his trousers. Pa titters but is silenced with a cold look from their mother.

“Are you bleeding? Show me your hand! What is the matter with you boy?” She says grabbing his hand and pressing on the wound, making Pat wince.

“You have to go clean that up. Chai, escort him back to the chambers.”

She nods to the weary man lurking beside her.

“Come on little prince,” Chai says but Pat struggles against him.

“No! You can’t take me away, I need to see my father, I need to be here when he comes!” He screams and kicks Chai on the shin when he tries to bring his arms around him.

“Pat, behave yourself! I will make you-” but she never gets to finish her sentence because the doors of the great hall open again and this time, they are pushed all the way to the side to let the returning troops come in.

His father’s black hair is the first thing he sees and then he is already running towards him despite his mother’s protests. As he smacks straight into him, his father bends down to embrace him. He smells like salt and seaweed and it is the best thing he has ever smelled. He feels a hard thump at his back and realizes Pa has run into him to hug their father too.

“I missed you so much,” she cries, and Pat wants to say the same, but he is too scared to lift his head away from his father’s chest, afraid that he’ll disappear.

“I missed you as well,” his father answers and suddenly, he and Pa are being lifted from the ground. He clings to his father’s neck, dirtying his robes with his bloody hand. There are red handprints on his father’s chest too where he has already clutched to him.

“What on earth have you done?” his father asks looking down on his chest but before Pat gets to answer his mother comes forward.

“Darling,” she says and it’s much warmer this time. She turns her head up and plants a chaste kiss on their father’s growing beard. He didn’t have one of those before.

“How was the north?”

“A backwater country with no intentions to negotiate. If I ever have to go back it will be too soon.”

His father jostles them both in his arms, grip strong as ever.

“I cannot begin to tell you how glad I am to be back home.”

“Was it horrible father?” Pa asks while tugging his beard.

“I will tell you all about it later but now we have a small matter to attend to,” he says while lowering both Pat and Pa back to the ground.

His mother looks serious.

“Trouble?”

“Perhaps. I believe the word gift was also used,” his father says and turns back to his commanders, who have followed him in.

In the middle of them stands a boy and a girl in dirty clothes that barely cover their thin forms. Black hair cover most of their downturned faces but Pat can see the muddied handprints on their faces. They’re tiny but they must be as old as he is. A small pup is standing beside them, growling and showing its teeth, like it's ready to tear apart anyone who tries to approach them. The pup’s fur is so white Pat is mesmerized.

“What is that?” His mother asks, taking a small step away from the odd group.

“I was beginning to think the whole trip was a complete waste. But then we found them in Martaban. The villagers claimed that the boy is a gift from the gods. They said that the same water running through Phra Mae Thorani runs through him too.”

“Silly superstition. And the girl?” his mother asks.

Pat can’t look away. The boy lifts his head. His eyes pierce right through him. Pat grapples for his sister’s hand.

“Refused to leave him behind. So did the dog.”

“Why did you take them with you?”

“They were orphans. They were living in an abandoned ramshackle by themselves.”

His mother crosses her arms.

“You should have seen the ramshackle. Surrounded by paradise in the middle of nothingness. Maybe it’s true.”

“Do you even realize what you have done?”

The boy doesn’t look away. Pat’s a little scared but also a little excited. He lets go of Pa and tunes out their parents fighting.

He takes a hesitant step towards them. The dog growls at him instantly. Pat flinches but doesn’t stop. It’s a baby too. He takes another step. And another. The dog keeps showing its teeth, but it stops growling so maybe Pat’s got it confused. The boy certainly looks confused. The girl is staring at the wall unflinchingly.

“Nice dog you got there,” Pat says as he settles right in front of the boy. He looks down at their feet almost touching.

The dog lets out a satisfied whine and lowers itself next to them.

The boy doesn’t answer.

“My name is Pat. Who are you?”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm? That’s a weird name. Things are so strange in Toungoo.”

The boy huffs in annoyance. At least he seems to understand him.

“You’re annoying,” the boy says.

“So you do speak our language!”

The boy squints his eyes at him and Pat laughs a little. The boy looks around but no one’s watching them. He turns to look at the girl. She doesn’t say anything.

“That’s Ink. I’m Pran.”

Pat gives them a wai.

“Nice to meet you.”

They bow their heads to him too.

“That’s Shin. Don’t touch him. He will eat your whole hand if you do.”

“My whole hand? I doubt it.”

“He will.”

“There’s no way!” He yells.

His parents finally turn to look at them. Pat covers his mouth, but they don’t say anything to him. His mother looks worried.

“Are we staying?” Ink asks them. Her voice is strong and deep, and it surprises Pat.

His mother turns to look at his father.

“There will be consequences.”

His dad doesn’t say anything. His mother walks away.

**

Pat holds on until breakfast next morning. But when Pran and Ink plop down on the ground in front of him and Pa, all cleaned up, dressed in white cotton, Shin trailing after them, Pat bangs his chopsticks loudly on the table. He leans forward to study Pran’s face. It looks a lot nicer without all the mud but his eyebrows seem to have been permanently stuck into a frown.

“Hey I was wondering.”

“Oh no,” Pran mumbles but he doesn’t stop piling rice to his bowl and he doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. Pat takes it as permission to go on.

“Where are your parents?”

“I don’t know.”

“What does orphan mean?”

“That I don’t know where my parents are.”

“Well who was taking care of you then?”

“No one.”

“No one?”

“No one. Before no one it was auntie Payao. But she died.”

“Oh.”

Pat can’t tell if Pran’s sad about it. He can’t tell if he’s sad about any of it. His expression doesn’t change. He’s scowling at the rice bowl too.

“Did your parents die?”

He feels a tiny slap on his knee. He flinches away from Pa.

“Ow! Why did you do that?”

“You’re being mean.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re being disrespectful,” Ink says, leaning forward on the table and once again Pat is surprised how much older she seems than the rest of them. Maybe she is. She doesn’t look older.

“It was just a question.”

Pran scoffs and points his chopsticks at Pat.

“A question that still has the same answer. I don’t know.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

Ink keeps giving him the mean eye and Pat frowns.

“Can you tell your sister to relax?”

That makes Pran laugh. It’s so surprising it startles Pat.

“Not my sister.”

Ink is still looking at him. She’s not even blinking. It’s a lot more terrifying than Shin, who’s made his home next to her. He’s sleeping peacefully, again, which only is making Pat more certain that he wouldn’t eat his whole hand if he touched him.

“She’s not? How come you’re together then?”

“Auntie Payao.”

“I don’t get it.”

Pran stands up and stretches. Pat looks down to see Pran’s empty bowl and realizes that he’s been talking too much.

“Enough questions.”

“Hey no, I’m not done.”

“Too bad.”

Pran doesn’t look back as he sets off running along the pebbled pathway out of the courtyard. Shin gets up and runs after him so fast Pat doesn’t think he was sleeping after all.

Pat abandons his own bowl. He wasn’t that hungry anyway. He gets up and runs after them.

“Hey Pran wait up! I wanna know what being a gift from the gods means!”

Pat catches up to him and tackles him to the ground. Pran’s laughter echoes on the walls of the palace.

**

As Ink and Pran settle into staying at the palace, there are also things Pat wonders about but doesn’t dare to ask.

He doesn’t ask why Ink is so quiet. Sometimes he finds her sleeping outside, underneath the round archways lining the walls of the palace, sometimes on the steps of one of the pagodas, sometimes with Shin beside her, sometimes not. He wonders if she crawls outside because she doesn’t like her bed or if she’s taking naps between patrols. He knows she patrols the grounds which he thinks is pretty stupid, considering that they have maybe a hundred guards patrolling in and around the palace already and because she’s a tiny girl, what could she even do if she came across an intruder?

He knows that she patrols the grounds because he keeps seeing her on his way to Pran’s room. The first time he does it, Shin really tries to bite his whole hand off when he pushes Pran’s door open without knocking. Only his own sense of preservation and quick reflexes save him and his hand. It takes a lot of yelling by Pran both at him and at Shin while he stands on the other side of the door that he’s managed to pull close right in front of Shin’s sharp teeth to get him in. He doesn’t learn from that experience but luckily, Shin does.

Getting through Shin is only the first step. Pran himself is much harder to crack. It takes him a week of relentless badgering and almost as many nights slept on the cold stone floor before Pran lets him crawl next to him on his bed.

“Pat, are you ever going to just let me sleep?” Pran asks. They’re lying on their sides facing each other and Pat’s so excited he keeps swiveling from side to side, like a rocking boat.

“I told you if I don’t get to ask you all the questions that I have then I can’t fall asleep. It’s really for the best for both of us that you just let me stay here until I can’t think of anything to ask anymore.”

“And when is that going to happen?”

Pat grins. The questions that he has for Pran keep popping up in his head like stars on the night sky. He doubts they are going to end soon.

“We’ll get there sooner if you just start answering me.”

Pran whines. Pat giggles.

“Fine. Ask your questions,” Pran says while turning back onto his back.

“About the god thing-“

“I told you I don’t-“

“You can’t keep saying I don’t know to everything I ask! That doesn’t count! I know you know something!”

Pran groans so loudly that Shin lifts his head from the floor.

Pat doesn’t say anything. In the week that he’s gotten to know Pran, and it has been a week spent more in Pran’s company than by himself, he’s learned to wait him out. Usually, it pays off.

The truth is he wants to know this so badly because that’s the only way he can help him. On the list of things they never talk about is why Pran and Ink never say anything to his father who seems intent on returning the favor despite the fact that he’s the one who brought them here. Pat loves his father more than anyone in the world, but he also knows his father. His shadow looms over them from the moment they wake up to the moment they go to sleep. He doesn’t say anything, but he keeps looking at Pran like he’s waiting for something. Standing on the steps of the main entrance, his eyes follow his every move when they play on the courtyard, and the smaller his eyes turn the more anxious Pat becomes. He knows his father is getting impatient.

He doesn’t tell that to Pran though. He doesn’t want to give him the impression that he’s afraid of his own father. Or that there’s anything to be afraid of in the first place.

Next to him, Pran looks uncertain but the way he’s biting his cheek tells Pat that he’s giving in. It’s a tell. Maybe he understands some of the silent things Pat is trying to tell him better than he thought.

“Look. I don’t know what people mean when they say…that. But I guess I could show you something.”

Pat nods excitedly and Pran pulls him up from the bed.

Pran leads him out by taking him along by his hand. Shin gets up and follows them. Pran starts his way towards the main entrance, but Pat shakes his head.

“Come on. I know a better way,” he says, interlacing their fingers and pulling an immovable object towards his room until Pran finally goes along with it. They pass by his and Pa’s room, run through the library, and the kitchen that follows after it, crouching behind doors to avoid detection. They don’t need to really, no one from the household staff is around.

As he pushes the hidden side door open, they run into their first obstacle. Ink is there, standing right in front of the door underneath the archway, her back to them. Pat almost ruins their cover by groaning. Pran covers his mouth with his hand and pulls him back in from the door. Shin is behind them and for a minute Pat worries he is definitely going to run to her. But he doesn’t, he stays behind them, wagging his tail in a way that makes Pat feel like he’s being judged.

Ink doesn’t move for a while. She stands like a statute, arms crossed, staring at the stars, straining her neck. She’s leaning against one of the white pillars and Pat’s afraid she’s gonna start sleeping right there. When she finally sighs and starts walking again, Pat brings his hands up in victory, wrangling them around Pran’s hand that is still wrapped around his mouth. When they see her back turn behind a corner, Pat fakes a choking sound and Pran lets go.

“Idiot.”

Shin gets up from his position and runs after her.

“Hey! Traitor,” Pran shouts after him.

“Look, I don’t wanna get in the middle of anything, but you need to tell your not-sister to stop patrolling the palace before she gets a sword in her eye from one of the actual guards. I don’t know why they’re tolerating it, but it won’t go on forever.”

Pran doesn’t even flinch.

“She needs to do it. I can’t make her stop.”

Pat shakes his head. He is going to stay out of it. He doesn’t ask why they are hiding from Ink in the first place, just like he doesn’t say anything about his own father.

“Come on. Before anyone else finds us.”

Pran pulls him forward again. They stay low behind the tall green bushes and keep their heads down to avoid being caught. Pat can’t see how many guards they pass and whether they are going to run straight into one. Pat can hear his own heartbeat and he feels the way Pran’s has quickened too in the tiny wrist wrapped around his own.

Pran takes him to the pond at the outskirts of the palace grounds, next to a small wooden temple. Pat scrunches his nose at the strong smell of incense wafting out of it.

Pran lets go of his hand and steps closer to the water. Pat looks around. He doesn’t see anyone, but he doubts it’s going to stay that way for long.

“Whatever you wanna do, better do it fast” He says while he checks the way they came from one last time.

“Just. Just watch.”

Pran kneels and places both of his hands gently on the ground, palms down. He feels around the grass underneath his fingers, swiping his palms back and forth like he’s looking for something. He’s mumbling something underneath his breathe but Pat can’t make out the words. He thinks Pran is probably speaking in a language he doesn’t understand. Suddenly, he stops mumbling and brings his ear to the ground.

“Okay,” he whispers after a while and then he sits up back again, bangs his hands on the ground and pulls.

Pat only has a second to register that all the water in the pond is shooting up to the sky in one long pillar before it falls down on the ground again, in one hard splash that covers the both of them.

He looks at Pran, still kneeling, wet as a rat. He’s in no better shape. His clothes cling to his body like he had jumped into the pond himself. A koi fish is jumping from side to side next to him. Only some of the water ended up back in the pond and the fish flashing about in what is now more like a puddle don’t look well.

Pran looks a little horrified. Pat starts laughing. He picks up the koi gingerly and throws it into puddle.

“That was amazing.”

“I didn’t mean to do that. I only wanted to move it a little bit.”

Pat walks up to Pran and pulls him up by both of his hands.

“Amazing Pran. Amazing,”

Pran’s cheeks turn red. Pat squeaks and pushes his thumb into the redness.

“Are you blushing?”

Pran slaps his hand away.

“Shut up,” he says, crossing his arms but Pat can see his dimples. It’s so cute he pinches one of them even though he can see Pran’s getting more and more annoyed.

“Pat!”

Pat shushes him and grabs his head with one hand and places the palm of the other on top of his mouth.

“Come on, we don’t want anyone coming here. It’s a miracle they didn’t already hear the splash.”

Pran pushes his hand away.

“Yeah, yeah. We should go then.”

“Wait.”

Pat takes both of his hands into his. He lifts his head to look at Pran in the eyes and his expression changes instantly. He eyes soften. Pat lets out a shaky breath.

“I don’t think you should let my father see that.”

“Okay.”

“But you need to give him something. I think- I don’t want to find out what happens if you don’t.”

Pran nods. He looks at their hands for a moment before he lets go and lowers himself to the ground again.

The next morning, there are rows and rows of rice everywhere on the palace grounds.

His father smiles when he finds them and Pat sighs in relief. He watches in joy as his father ropes his arm around Pran and asks him about his well-being a quiet murmur. But as the day goes by, Pat feels less and less happy. The flurry of activity the rice sends the palace into is terrifying. Pat can hear bits and pieces of gossip everywhere. Preparations to introduce Pran to his grandfather are made. Preparations for a feast where Pran is introduced as part of the rest of the family to the court are made.

The boy is deity? That’s what they say.

Should I pray to him for good luck?

Where did he even come from?

The relief Pat had felt disappears as quickly as it came.

He manages to catch Pran before he’s dragged in front of his evil grandfather. He’s been dressed in elaborate red robes that are so big Pran swims in the fabric. The hat tied to his head looks uncomfortable.

“Pat,” he says, uncertain and his eyes tell Pat everything he needs to know. He fishes Pran’s hand out of the too large sleeves of the robe and squeezes it hard.

“Don’t be scared. I won’t let you face him alone.”

Holding onto Pran’s hand as they walk out the doors he thinks to himself, I’m going to protect him with all my life. It’s the biggest promise he has ever made, too big, his mom’s voice tells him in his head, but he makes it anyway. He feels it in his bones, that it’s what he’s meant to do and he’s going to respect it.

He will remember this moment. He will remember how warm it was, how heavy the air felt. The smell of rain and thunder. Ink’s eyes, watching them as a sense of dread settles at the bottom of his stomach. He will remember because the dread never leaves. It grows to be part of who he is.

The dread and the promise.

**

11 years later

Pat nearly avoids being struck by the pointed edge of Ink’s blade.

“Fuck!” He yells as he pulls his body backwards, stumbling, just barely avoiding falling on his ass.

“How are you this rusty? Are you taking this seriously? That’s not good enough,” she says while firmly planting both of her legs on the ground and taking on a defensive position even as they both know she could destroy him now if she wanted to.

Her words sting worse than her blade anyway.

“Of course I’m taking it seriously! It’s my best friend we are talking about here.”

Ink smirks as she lets him find his footing. As soon as striking doesn’t mean she’s going to kill him, she goes for it again. Pat parries her efforts this time, a flurry of hits aimed at his head.

“Oh your best friend? That’s not what he said to me when we made a blood oath to always be best friends.”

She matches her strike with her words, and he loses his footing again, this time falling ungracefully on his ass.

He can hear her tut above him and worst of all, Wai cackling.

“You are the easiest person to rile up. Look at your leg work, it’s so sloppy,” Wai hollers from the sidelines.

Ink shakes her head and offers him her hand. He’s not too proud to take it even if he feels a little humiliated. He knows that she wants him to do good too, she’s on his side.

Wai, with his snickering face, is another thing.

“Why are you butting in? Who asked you to be here anyway?”

“I thought I’d come out to check out the shmuck who’s so desperate to do my job for me.”

“Why do you even care you’ve known Pran for like a minute.”

Wai gets up from his perch on the barricades lining up their training field. He saunters up to Pat, cocking his head and swiping his thumb on his lip. It makes him really wanna punch him. It’s not a new feeling with Wai. The only thing stopping him is the image of Pran’s annoying face telling him that he won’t talk to him anymore if he does.

“A year and that’s completely irrelevant. This is not a competition to see who’s Pran’s best friend. Protecting the family asset was the job I was actually hired to do. Maybe you should return to do the things you were born to do your little lordship.”

Pat sees red. Ink smacks her hand against her face so loud it echoes in the walls of the training ground.

“The family asset?!” He yells and takes a step towards Wai. Before he gets to do anything he would undoubtedly regret, he’s interrupted by a booming voice.

“Enough!”

It’s his father.

All of them straighten their backs and bow down.

His father walks to them slowly, each step heavy and purposeful, until he’s in front of Wai. He stares him for a long while before crossing his arms and grunting.

“Never talk to my son that way again. You were hired but that can change very quickly,” he says, quietly. Wai keeps his head down.

Pat steps forward and carefully lets his hand rest on his father’s arm.

“I’m sorry father. It was my fault. I was being a pest. Don’t punish them.”

He hates Wai. He hates him with passion. But not enough to ruin his life and definitely not enough to be on the receiving end of Pran’s wrath.

His father doesn’t do anything but stare Wai down. He doesn’t even flinch and Pat’s afraid to breathe. But then his father steps back.

“Come,” he says looking at Pat and starts walking away.

Pat follows him obediently.

His father keeps walking silently until they are back at the main palace. It’s only as he steps inside the great hall that he stops and turns to him.

“He is right. This is not what you are meant to do. I let you spend your free time however you want because I trust you to know your place. That can also change.”

“I was just-“

“You missed your lesson with Mr. Pichai today. Again. Practicing your swordsmanship is important. But it’s not more important than learning how to rule this kingdom.”

“I’m sorry father.”

“You are the next king of Ayutthaya. Not the personal guard of Parakul. You serve your family and your kingdom. Not him.”

There is nothing he can say to him after that. They’ve had this fight a hundred times by now.

His father had been dedicated enough to keeping the peace that for a long time, he had let Pat pretend he was the one responsible for Pran’s safety. Pran’s very own guardian. Of course, his soldiers had guarded their every movement from a plausible distance, but it had been nice. When Pat had turned 17, his father had apparently had enough of the games. Pat was to study, books and scrolls and the droning speeches of his military teachers while Ink and Wai had been hired to be there, with Pran, to protect the family asset, every single moment, like Pat had already done all his life.

His father had let Pran choose Ink and Wai himself. I don’t care, pick anyone who can do the job, as long as it isn’t my son, he had said. Pran had thought it had been fair, nice even while Pat had been forced to silently mend his own broken heart and shattered dreams.

He loves Ink like his own sister, and he could never resent her for being there. More importantly, there’s no one else in the world he would trust with Pran safety more than her. Ink loves Pran. Ink is a better fighter than him.

Wai though, Wai he hates with passion. He hates Wai with passion because he doesn’t trust him, and he doesn’t like him and he isn’t a better fighter than Pat no matter what kind of delusions he has.

But mostly, he hates Wai because it was supposed to be him.

He lowers his head and nods at his father. With a flick of his hand, he dismisses him.

He walks away, slowly and calmly as long as he’s still inside but as soon as the heavy doors fall shut behind him, he starts running. He runs and he pushes himself to run faster, every step a little faster, until it hurts. His lungs are burning, every breath he takes feels like swallowing needles. They tear through his throat, all the way down from his stomach to his legs. It’s good, hurt is good. He doesn’t have think about anything else then.

He finds himself at their pond sooner than he’d hoped. But he’s there and the small, hunched figure sitting by the water means he can’t turn around now.

He collapses next to Pran, back hitting the ground.

Pran doesn’t turn to look at him. Instead, he has his eyes fixed on the small bubble of water floating around before his eyes. He’s got a harp in his lap, and his fingers are picking a soft melody on it while the water bubble contorts itself along to the music. It doesn’t take long for Pat to find a small figure dancing in front of his eyes.

It makes him smile.

“That’s nice. Is it new?” he whispers, terrified how fragile his voice has become.

Pran finally turns to look at him. He stops playing the harp, but the bubble doesn’t stop dancing.

“Ink told me you had a fight.”

“How did she get here already?”

“What happened?”

“It was nothing.”

Pran puts away the harp and leans forward to hover over Pat. He brings his palm to Pat’s cheek and wipes away at the moisture gathered in his lower eyelid. The simple touch makes Pat’s breath catch and heartbeat quicken. That’s another problem in of itself. He resists the temptation to just hit himself on the face to make his body act normal.

“Was it that bad?”

“It was nothing.”

Pran sighs. He sits back into his own space and rests his upper body against his drawn-in knees. The surface of the pond vibrates and slowly, other bubbles break out and float into the air. They crash into them, soft like feathers. It feels so tender and Pat has to close his eyes.

Something soft and furry makes its way underneath his arm.

Pat laughs.

“Where did you come from?” He says while hugging the monstrous animal climbing on top of him.

“He gets so impatient these days. Can’t stand me just sitting around.”

“I understand. You are a very boring person.”

Pran hits him on the side.

“Ow!”

He tries to squirm away but the mass on top of him is decidedly unwilling to move.

“Okay come on, Shin. Up, up. I can’t breathe underneath a wolf as big as me.”

With great effort, Shin gets up. He sniffs Pran’s ear and licks his whole face before deeming them too boring again, disappearing behind the rice paddy growing next to them.

Pat pulls himself up finally.

“It’s funny. I remember a time when he listened to you.”

Pran chuckles.

“Yeah, I know. He still listens to Ink though. What does she have that I don’t?”

Pat laughs and jostles him a little bit. The bubbles rising from the water seem to settle down around them, idly floating in space, like they’ve fallen asleep. For a moment, Pat is distracted by how strange it all looks.

“Are you really not going to tell me what happened?”

“There’s nothing to tell. Ink beat my ass at practice and Wai thinks I’m wasting everyone’s time. My father agrees. What else is new?”

“I’ll talk to Wai. He’s being an asshole.”

Pat winces.

“Fuck no, please don’t say anything to him. I don’t need you to defend my honor. It’s not even about him.”

Pran smiles but it’s a humorless smile.

“I know. It’s about your father.”

Pat doesn’t answer but he knows Pran knows. It’s always about his father. He doesn’t know how to talk about him to Pran. Pran never talks about him either, it’s as if somewhere along the way, they forgot to learn how to do that.

Pat thinks that maybe sometimes, or a lot of the times, Pran hates his father. Pat thinks he understands why. But sometimes he sees them talking. Ming will wrap his arm around his shoulder and say you’re like a son to me and Pran will smile. In public, Pran will say it’s the greatest honor of my life to serve the Jindapat family, my king, and I will do so until the day I die and the way he says it, terrifies Pat. But in private, he’ll say of course I wish to stay uncle, you’re my family with such earnestness that in those moments, Pat can’t help but lock all his doubts into a box and hide away the key.

Every day he wakes up afraid that Pran’s had enough. In that fear, he doesn’t know where his own relationship with his father fits. It’s there, like an ominous dark cloud that Pat keeps stuffing into the box with all his doubts and hopes. Dreads and promises.

He sighs and leans his head against Pran’s knee. It’s second nature to him, to rub his nose into the rough fabric and to get Pran’s fingers to make their way into his hair. Like always, he begins scratching his scalp. Pat leans his head into it despite being worried that too much of this might make all blood run from his head down south again.

“I just want to protect you. That’s the only thing I want to do in this world,” he whispers, eventually, into Pran’s knee.

Pran slides his fingers to his ears. He brings his other hand around until he is grabbing his head with both of his hands. He tilts his head up and forces him to look at him. Pat’s heart is beating too fast and his throat feels like sandpaper. He swallows and tries to focus his eyes on Pran’s.

“Pat. I don’t need you to protect me. No one in this entire world is more protected than I am.”

Pran’s thumbs swipe across his cheeks, and Pat takes a steading breath. They keep looking into each other’s eyes and Pat’s so transfixed he forgets himself. His eyes drift downwards.

Shin’s loud bark breaks the moment. The suspended water around them splashes to the ground as they both jump away from each other.

“Shin! You scared the crap out of me!” He yells only to jump out of his skin again by someone clearing their throat behind them.

“You should head back. The king wants to speak to you both.”

It’s Ink. She doesn’t say anything else. Her face reveals nothing as she hops on Shin’s back and rides away.

**

Once they arrive at the palace, his father is pacing up and down the great hall. Countless advisors are bustling around him, murmuring guidance even as he keeps walking and leaving them behind.

They all stop when the heavy doors bang close behind them. Ink is standing at the sidelines with Wai right next to him. Pat takes time to glare at Wai and quickly loses Pran, who is already approaching his father, bowing down with his hands touching his forehead. He runs next to him and bows down too.

“You wanted to speak to us?”

His father stops mid step and turns towards them. He seems to ponder his next words carefully. He doesn’t look pleased.

“I need you both to go to Chiang Mai. There’s been some disturbances on the border. The Chief of La Na is reportedly unhappy. The delegation from Angor is on its way to Ayutthaya, so I cannot go myself. I need you to deal with it, Pat.”

Pat nods.

“Pran, I need you to go with him. Your presence should show good will to that unruly La Na Chief. Let his people see why it pays off to be a province of the Ayutthaya Kingdom. I would like to see him try another rebellion after that.”

Pran nods. Pat finds it difficult to hide his excitement.

“Take as many men with you as you think you need. I’ll let you decide. But remember that bastard will try to squeeze anything he possible can from us. Don’t let him. Leave at dawn.”

“Yes, father.”

“Yes, my king.”

They turn to leave but his father stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Pat. Are you ready? Can you do this?”

“Yes father. Of course.”

“This is your chance to prove to me that all those lessons have not gone to waste. Prove to me you can lead.”

“Yes, father.”

“I trust that you both know how important this is. Don’t bring dishonor to this family.”

“Yes, father.”

“Yes, my king.”

He lets go of Pat and goes back to pacing. Pat can’t hold it in anymore and as soon as his father turns his back to them, he punches Pran’s arm. Pran slaps his hand away which only makes him jump on his back.

“Will you calm down? He can still change his mind.”

“Pat!”

They turn around to see Pa running up to them.

“What?” Pat asks while poking at her, dressed in one of their mother’s old dresses. She’s still so tiny compared to the rest of them. He can barely feel it as she tries to push him away.

“What did father want?”

“Oh nothing. He just gave us our very first mission. We need to go and sweet talk some old chief up in Chiang Mai.”

Pa’s smiling face falls.

“Oh. Is that…safe?”

Pat scoffs.

“Of course. You got the best soldiers of Ayutthaya going. Me and Pran will crush them if they try anything.”

Pran crosses his arms and gives him an unimpressed look.

“You and I have never crushed anyone in our entire lives.”

“No need to be so modest baby.”

Pat wiggles his eyebrows and both Pran and Pa hit him on the arms. Pat laughs it off. The laugh doesn’t last long as he sees Wai and Ink walk up to them, Shin right on their trail.

“Oh but look who comes here. The man who has never been accused of being modest in his life,” he says, clapping his hands together sarcastically.

“Just aware of my talents. And what other’s lack. It’s a heavy burden to carry, I know” Wai says, smirking at him. But then he turns around to give a sweet smile and a polite wai to both Pran and Pa.

“Gross,” Pat says grimacing.

“Pran?” Ink says with a questioning look.

Pran only nods to her. She nods back and turns around, clearly ready to leave before she is interrupted by Pa.

“Ink. I uh-“

Ink turns back around again to face her, her broadsword jostling loudly by her side. Her face doesn’t move an inch.

“Yes?”

Ink is so serious. Pat feels a little bad for her sister who’s clearly flustered.

“I…I made this for you. To wish you luck and keep you safe during your travels.”

Pa hands her a red flower wreath that she’s braided together with cotton string.

Ink looks down at the phuang malai being tied to her wrist a long time. Disturbingly long. But before Pa can start to fumble and ask for it back, which Pat can see from the look in her eyes that she’s about to do, something incredibly strange happens.

Ink smiles. And-

“Are you blushing?”

The smile falls away from Ink’s face and he clasps his hands in front of his own mouth before Pran even has the chance to do it. Pran presses his hands on top of his anyway and stomps his foot for good measure.

He knows he deserves it, so he doesn't even complain.

Like a startled deer, Ink thanks Pa quietly and runs away. Pa looks after her like a confused child being rejected by the said woodland creature. He wants to stomp his own feet now.

They stare at her retreating back and Pran hits him again.

“You absolutely moron.”

“Pa, I’m so sorry,” he whines while clutching his wounded arm. Pa looks a little like she could cry.

“Did I do something wrong?” Pa whispers.

“I’m so confused right now,” Wai says.

“Shut up!” He and Pran snap together in unison. That manages to make Pat smile.

**

“Pat? Pat, come here! Don’t think that you can run away without saying anything to your poor mother.”

Pat winces and turns on his heals. So close. He tiptoes back towards his mother’s room and gently pushes in the door that has been left partially open. He finds his mother having tea with Pran.

“Oh, what’s going on in here? Is Pran trying to steal my place again?” He asks while he bends down to hug his mother and kiss her on the cheek. Pran grins and shakes his head.

“He might be. At least he had the decency to come and say goodbye and not just try to steal into the night.”

She reaches across the table to squeeze Pran’s hand. From how red Pran’s cheeks are, Pat can tell she’s been squeezing his dimples too. She loves to do that.

“I wasn’t trying to steal into the night ma. I was going to come and see you before we left,” he says while kissing her other cheek.

“I wonder if I should believe that,” she says but she gives Pat’s cheek an affectionate pat. He lets go of her and pulls up a chair for himself. She pours another cup of tea and pushes it in front of him.

“Thank you. What were we really talking about here?”

Pran gives him a long look, like he’s deciding whether to say anything or not.

“Your mother is worried about the trip.”

Pat blows on the tea to make it colder.

“To Chiang Mai? Why are you worried?”

Her mother takes a long time to prepare another cup of tea for herself. It’s a ritual and when she’s finally ready, she pours it gently from the pot, swirls the spoon around in the cup and taps the edges of it with her spoon after she’s satisfied.

“She thinks we are one wrong move away from war,” Pran says eventually, when it becomes clear she’s not going to speak.

Pat taps his own chin in thought. He knows the reports they have been getting. How Toungoo men have been attacking multiple villages all along the border for months now. How they’ve responded in kind. But there’s always been skirmishes. The bitter rivalry between the two kingdoms goes so far back Pat doesn’t know how and when it started. He’s asked but no one’s ever bothered to explain it to him.

He knows how much his grandfather hated them. He knows how much his father hates them. And yet, the mutually assured destruction of two kingdoms equal in size and power had always been enough to stop the escalation into full blown war.

“I don’t think you should worry ma. Father knows what he’s doing.”

His mother doesn’t say anything. Pran looks away. He doesn’t believe him. There’s nothing new there.

They spend the rest of the night being fussed over by his mother who never once mentions war but Pat can feel her worry in every hug and pat she gives to him. Pran’s dimples are pinched so many times that Pat doesn’t think they’ll ever recover. Pat can’t hide the smile that reappears as he watches his mother shower Pran with love and Pran hugging her back so softly. She had been incessant when she had seen what his father had come back with from Toungoo all those years ago but like her children, she could not help but fall in love with the both of them, Pran and Ink. She treated them like she was their mother.

Looking at them now, Pran kissing the top of his mother's head, Pat’s heart is full.

When they finally let her retreat for the night and Pran pushes the door closed behind him, he’s still thinking about it until it hits him like a ton of bricks that they are alone again. His heart starts racing as soon as he meets Pran’s eyes. For months now, it’s like suddenly whenever he sees Pran, his body is preparing him for something to happen. It’s unbearable. He doesn’t know what to do about it.

“What?” Pran asks. Pat realizes he's been caught staring.

“Nothing,” he mutters.

“Are you sure,” Pran asks and he’s flicking his chin with the tops of his fingers to get him to look up again. The touch only flusters him more and he beats away Pran’s hands.

“It’s nothing, go away.”

Pran just laughs.

It’s completely unfair that he keeps doing these things to him.

**

After a full day of riding and trying to keep five hundred men moving in formation, in a timely manner, Pat is nearing the end of his patience. When they finally make it to Lopburi, Pat screams the order to make camp like his life depended on it. Setting up a rotating guard and maintenance duties, he tries to not snap at his lieutenants holding everything together better than he is. For once, he wonders if his father had a point about all the lessons he’s been forcing upon him.

When he’s finally gotten to dismiss everyone, exhausted, he goes looking for Pran. Pran is nothing but predictable and he finds him at the lake they’ve camped next to. He’s dancing in the middle of it, the water holding him up like he weighs nothing. He’s spinning and twirling, jumping and bending down while ringlets of water follow every intricate movement of his hands until he’s surrounded by the world’s most delicate hurricane. It’s beautiful, he’s beautiful, he has always been beautiful when he gets like this. Pat doesn’t know anyone who is as awkward on land as Pran but there’s no denying that he belongs to the water.

Ink is sitting on a rock close to him, smiling and petting Shin. Wai is clapping excitedly like an idiot.

Pat used to be the only person who got to see this. It couldn’t have lasted forever, no matter how much they both had tried. Not when Pran hadn’t known what he could do himself and even less so how to control it. Some of his secrets still remain between them, with echoes of the promise they had made by the pond ten years ago growing into the absolute certainty that no matter what, his father could not get it into his head that whatever it was that Pran was capable of could be weaponized. They’d been protecting that secret, just the two of them, so well for so long that Pat doubts even Pran knows what he can actually do.

But there were other things, things everyone learned along with him. Crops would grow all year round. When Pran was sad it would always rain. Sometimes water would float around him without him realizing it. No one outside of the palace was to know what he could really do, his father made sure of that, but no one could hide all of it. People came to the palace regularly to seek Pran’s help, and Pran, reluctantly, hesitantly, would almost always go. Never without a shadow. The day Pran had walked into the palace, his father had made sure he had not been left alone.

He sees the struggle in his father’s eyes every time he looks at Pran, the need to keep him protected, hidden, and the acknowledgment that he can’t drive Pran to his limit. Pat suspects that his father is, for very different reasons, as terrified of Pran deciding to leave as he is. What scares Pat the most is the fact that he doesn’t know if his father would let him. He doesn’t want to find out what he would resort to in order to keep him there if Pran’s consent wasn’t a part of the deal anymore.

Wai throws lotus petals towards Pran, who laughs and floats them into his dance. Pat grinds his teeth together in order to not say anything.

A pat on his back that’s hard enough to tip him forward jostles him out his thoughts.

“Tell me something, why is it exactly that you still haven’t fucked Pran?”

“Korn! I will kill you some of these days, you know.”

Korn laughs.

When his own old guardian had died, Pat remembers being so grateful for his father for picking Korn to be the next one. He struggles to remember why in moments like these.

Korn doesn’t take the hint and wraps an arm around his shoulder. Gives a meaningful glance towards Wai.

“I’m just saying, you should do it before he has the chance. You’ve been sitting on this long enough.”

Pat shakes his head and pushes Korn away.

“Get lost.”

Korn laughs again. There’s nothing that he regrets more than telling Korn about how his body has started to fail him around Pran.

“I’m serious Pat! You need to tell him! This is getting insufferable.”

“I don’t know why we keep having this discussion. I’ve told you that he has to know already.”

“I know you like to think that you guys are so close you live inside each other’s head, but don’t you see that that’s the problem? Pran’s too close to it. He can’t see the forest-”

“Don’t say the forest from the trees.”

“But he can’t!”

Pat groans.

“I’m done talking about this with you.”

“But-“

“Alright, let’s move it people!”

He claps his hands together loud enough to interrupt Korn and get the attention of the people he’s been stalking for far too long anyway. Pran is startled by the noise and in a flash, he loses his footing and goes under the surface.

Pat is laughing when Pran is gently carried and placed in front of him by the water he has enchanted.

The Pran standing in front of him, clothes dripping and hair plastered to his face, does not look happy. To Pat he looks so cute he has to pinch his cheeks.

“Come on, let’s go meet the chief.”

**

As they enter the city gates, they’re greeted by Chief Tong and his closest advisors with the flair and flourish expected of a small city such as Lopburi. They seem genuinely happy to host them, giving joyful bows to him and even deeper ones for Pran. It happens sometimes and Pat can’t help but find it funny to see a blushing Pran stumble through grateful thankyous and acknowledgements.

They’re invited to a feast and faced with the colorful selection of local dishes pushed before him, Pat finally starts to feel the pressures of the day slide away from his shoulders. Munching happily on a fresh mango, stomach so full he can’t remember the last time that had happened, music playing next to them and people dancing around a firepit, he forgets himself. Instead of playing the role of the grateful guest of honor that he is, he is staring at Pran sitting next to him, so close that his crossed legs are touching his. The heath coming from the press of his knee is so distracting.

Out the corner of his eyes, across from him, he can see Korn wiggle his eyebrows. He straightens up and gives him his most disapproving glance. Of course, he mostly wants to kill Korn because he keeps poking around the one thing he can’t stop thinking about.

He clears his throat and shakes his head.

“So Chief Tong. Do you know anything about what’s going on up north?”

The Chief lowers his bowl and seems to think for a moment before answering.

“I know that they have been warding off some attacks from Toungoo. Mostly bandits. Nothing organized. But I also know Chief Toto has not been happy. He feels like the responsibility to handle Toungoo has been left to his people.”

“My father said that old grump is never happy.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps he has reason to complain.”

Pat crosses his arms.

“You think so? You think my father hasn’t been providing him with enough?”

Chief Tong lifts up his hands.

“I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“I didn’t take it as such. I want to know if there’s cause for real concern.”

“All I am saying that it is not wise to dismiss Chief Toto so easily. He might be an old grump, but it has not been easy for him to adjust to La Na’s new position as a province of Ayutthaya. Give him some time.”

“Hmm. I don’t understand what he has to complain about. We’ve given him food, security. What does he want? Toungoo would have swallowed them up years ago without us.”

“I don’t know. People do crazy things just to feel free.”

It’s Pran.

It’s like cold water being poured down his neck.

Pran’s not looking at him when he says it but Pat stares in silence long enough for him to finally meet his gaze. When Pran turns his whole body towards him and Pat meets those steely eyes, a shiver runs through his spine. He doesn’t know what it means.

“A very astute observation,” Chief Tong says.

Pran nods in acknowledgement but he doesn’t turn his gaze away from Pat.

Pat frowns.

He sees Ink clench her fingers into a fist and Wai shifting uncomfortably next to her. Wai might not know much but Pat knows that even he has been around enough to recognize the tell-tale signs of Ink getting restless.

It’s a warning sign but Pat ignores it.

“You think the people of La Na are not free?”

Pran opens his mouth, but they’re interrupted by a girl making her way to them and tapping Pat on the shoulder.

“Would his Royal Highness agree to a dance with me?”

She is very pretty, with brown eyes boring into him while she bats her long eyelashes at him. The way she’s dressed, wrapped in expensive looking bright red fabric, is giving him a bad feeling. Pran turns away from him.

“My daughter Jewly. It would be an honor,” Chief Tong says and Pat fights his instinct to sigh.

Every bone in his body is telling him to turn Chief Tong and his daughter down. He needs to talk to Pran about what he just said, he needs to know if that’s what he is feeling too. Pran who is so studiously avoiding his eyes again. Dancing with this girl, no matter how pretty, is the last thing he wants to do.

But his father’s voice echoes in his head. Chief Tong has been incredibly kind. Chief Tong is telling him not everyone in his kingdom is happy with where they are. He has responsibilities.

He gets up.

Pran spares him a glance but the flash of resigned disappointment on his face is almost enough to bring Pat down to his knees.

But it’s too late.

“Of course,” he mumbles, and lets Jewly pull him into the fire.

**

When he gets back, Pran is long gone as is Ink and Wai. He can see Chief Tong has joined the dancing circle around the fire.

Pat finds the farthermost corner, just away from eyesight and sits down at an empty table. He releases a deep sigh and hides his head in his hands. He stays there thinking about how stupid his life has become when a cold cup touches his cheek. He lifts himself up to accept the drink Korn is pushing into his hand. Korn sits down next to him.

“Why the gloomy face?”

Korn’s breath reeks and Pat is suddenly reminded of the late nights getting scolded by his grandfather. He can still feel the sting of his hand on his cheek even though he’s been dead for years already. The smell of his preferred medicine never leaves.

Now, he empties his cup with one gulp and Korn is smart enough to fill it up right after.

“Don’t ask.”

“Is it Pran? I told you, you need to fu-“

“Listen you absolutely can’t say fuck and Pran in the same sentence anymore. You can’t talk about Pran like that. Ever. To anyone.”

“Isn’t that a little hypocritical-“

“I’m serious! The next time you do, I’ll cut off your hand.”

Korn lifts his hands up.

“Okay, okay. I got it, I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be talking like that about anybody. Least of all to me. I’m the Prince. Show me some respect, will you?”

Korn scoffs.

“Don’t be stupid I would never do that to you. That’s why you like me.”

Pat shakes his head and empties his cup again. He wonders where Pran has gone and if he could still find him. He keeps thinking about the look on Pran’s face before he had gone with Jewly. He thinks it’s going to take a long while for him to forget it.

“And anyway, my point still stands. You need to tell him you love him. And that your dick gets hard every time you see him.”

Pat hits him in the shoulder as hard as he can.

“Shut up! Besides, I tell him I love him all the time.”

It’s true. He does and Pran almost never says it back. He knows. He has to know. What right does Pran have to look at Pat like he was betraying him by dancing with another girl?

“Fine. Then maybe you need to show him how hard-”

“You’re going into the hand chopping territory again.”

“Pat you need to listen! Are you listening?” Korn asks while pointing a swaying finger at him.

“Of course I’m fucking listening!”

Really, Pran has no right to get pissed at him. He knows and he’s never said anything to Pat. He’s said so little that for all Pat knows, the only thing Pran cares about is running away.

Now, that’s unfair. He knows better, he does. He has felt loved.

But right now, it’s very hard to remember that.

He finishes his cup and bangs both of his hands on the table. He’s had enough. He’s going to find Pran and talk to him. He stands up. Too quickly clearly. His vision takes a deep dive, and he throws his hand towards Korn’s shoulder for balance.

“Okaaayyyh buddy, where are you going?”

“To talk to Pran. Just like you said.”

“I don’t know man. You don’t seem like you’re up for it.”

“Fuck off. After everything you’ve said, the only thing you can do is help me…”

Pat suddenly becomes aware of how quiet it is. He can’t hear the music anymore.

“Huh?”

He turns to look at Korn.

“You don’t think that’s a bit…”

“Pat you’re rambling. You need to finish at least one of these sentences for me to get you.”

Pat shushes him. Korn thankfully shuts up. They stay silent for a heartbeat. There’s nothing. Nothing in the air, not even the leaves crunching, the fire crackling, let alone the chatter of happy talking Pat swears he heard just a moment ago.

“Look out!” Korn yells suddenly, and Pat has nothing but a breath of time to jump out of the way of the incoming sword being brought down right in the middle where had been standing.

He stumbles a little with his drunken feet but his body doesn’t falter as he catches the sword Korn throws his way and follows the momentum of the weapon to swiftly bring it up again to parry another hit.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see two more men appear and Korn rush to attack them. Pat lets his own training kick in. He takes a deep inhale and brings the broadsword down on his opponent, a man shrouded in black cloth so that only his eyes are visible. The force of his swing and his giant sword is, as Ink would say, more than enough to bring an elephant down and it doesn’t betray him this time either. What he lacks in coordination does not matter as he hits his opponent, once, twice, three times. It’s enough to crush his defense. Pat knocks him out cold, just in time to face the man that has escaped Korn. He does not do any better and Pat has the joy of sweeping the ground with his feet while a fourth person enters the fray. Battling on two fronts, Pat brings the sword into a swing so ferocious it makes both of the men back down. Korn knocks the other one out with the handle of his sword in the back of his head while Pat strikes his swing right into the side of the one man left standing.

They don't even get to exhale before there's already another clatter and a scream.

Pat pats Korn and they run towards the scream. Adrenaline has pushed through the haze of alcohol entirely. Pat stops at the corner of one of the houses in order to assess the situation. He holds Korn back as he leans out to see what they are up against.

A man dressed all in black is standing over a woman, knife in the air, hovering over her body crouched on the ground. He feels a push against the hand he has on Korn’s chest and in the next moment, he can see that Korn has thrown his knife towards the man. It misses but the startled man starts to run away.

Korn goes after him. Pat runs to the woman.

“Are you okay?” He asks while helping her up.

She nods. Pat notices her hands shaking as he takes a hold of them.

She doesn’t say anything, but she points her head behind her. Pat sees feet pointing out behind the corner of another house. He makes sure the woman is up before running forward again.

Behind the house, he finds Chief Tong and his daughter tied up, mouths stuffed with cloth. He goes to them and starts ripping away the rope. Tong’s eyes are wide as he tries to speak against the cloth. Pat removes it from both of their mouths.

“What happened?” he asks.

“Toungoo. I think they’ve poisoned my men,” Tong says in between coughs.

“And Pran?”

Tong shakes his head.

“I haven’t seen him.”

Pat feels an unfamiliar boil in his veins as he tries to not think about what has happened to him. His fingers tingle with heat. He tries his best to keep himself under control.

He gets the last of the rope released from around Tong and Jewly.

“Will you be okay?”

“Go,” Tong says nodding his head.

Pat leaves them to go find Pran. His mind is empty but for the rush of blood to his head and the roaring sound it makes as it crashes through his veins. Time feels like its slowing down around him. Every step he takes feels like the heaviest step he’s ever taken.

He finally finds them at the edge of the town. Pran, Ink, Wai and Shin standing in a circle, backs together as six men surround them. His body feels like it’s been struck by thunder. He wishes he could say he felt scared in the moment. But the only thing he remembers between this moment, the one where his eyes connect with Pran’s eyes and the next, where he finds six dead bodies around him, is his vision going red and the feeling of white-hot blinding rage.

Silence again.

The rushing in his ears settles down. His blood feels calmer.

He hears Shin sniff through the bodies next to him.

“What did you do?” Ink yells.

He looks at his own hands. How strange. They’re covered in–

“What did you do!”

He finally looks up only to find all eyes on him. Ink looks angry. Wai is frowning.

Pran looks…Pran looks scared. For him? Of him?

He doesn’t have time to decide before he has his hands full of him. Pran wraps his arms around his head and squeezes the life out of him. His cold cheek is pressed against his and his soft hair tickles his eye. The smell of the ocean fills all of Pat’s senses. He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh of relief that turns into a broken sob. He wraps his arms around Pran as hard as he can, too hard, so hard that it forces a cough out Pran.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says with a wavering voice.

“I thought they got you,” Pran whispers into his cheek.

“We need to go. We have no idea how many of them were and what they were after and you’ve just killed our prisoners, the only people who could have told us anything,” Ink says.

Pat tries to let go of Pran to look at Ink but Pran doesn’t let him.

Inks scoffs and turns away to search for a pulse on the bodies surrounding them.

“We were so close,” Wai groans, pointing at the gate.

Pat opens his mouth to defend himself, but he’s interrupted by Korn running up to them.

“Is everyone okay?” he asks, out of breath and leaning against his knees.

“Is any of the attackers still alive?” Ink asks him instead of answering.

Korn straightens up and shakes his head.

“I think two ran away.”

Ink gives him such a scathing look he stumbles back a little. Like they are the stupidest people on earth.

“Men. So disappointing!” She yells.

She jumps on Shin’s back and rides away towards their camp.

Korn sighs.

“Yeah, okay, I got nothing.”

“Korn, can you go and check on Chief Tong and his men? Make sure they get all the help they need.”

Korn nods and leaves them.

Pran finally unwinds his arms from around him and Pat’s body screams at the injustice of it all. Everything he touched is on fire, and it’s a very different kind of fire than the one from moments before. If it weren’t for the carnage around them, Pat would pull him back in.

“Come on. Let’s go back.”

**

“I’m just asking Mo, how the hell did they come through huh? You were in charge. I know you were because I assigned to job to you myself.”

“I don’t know. I swear they didn’t come through here. I swear we would have seen them.”

Pat crosses his arms and looks at Mo and Chang standing in front of him, heads hanging, looking like they are about to be executed.

He hates shouting at his men, most of them are his friends. He also doesn’t have any idea what it could mean and who he should believe.

“This is the only entrance to the city. The mountains in the north would make it extremely difficult for them to come from up there. Is there anyway you could have missed them?”

“No!” Both Chang and Mo shout in unison.

“What were they even doing this far south? A bunch of Toungoo men? They should have been stopped ages ago,” Wai says shaking his head.

“And what did they want? Attacking Lopburi with 11 men? For what?” Pran asks.

“Chief Tong said that all of his men seemed fine once they woke up. Whatever poison was given to them only made them lose their consciousness. I don’t think Lopburi was the target,” Korn quips from the perch he has on a casket at the edge of the tent.

Silence follows. Pat looks at the map laid out in front of them and the days of travel they still have ahead of them.

“It’s Toungoo. I think we have to assume they were after Pat. Nothing creates chaos in a kingdom as certainly as taking out the next in line for succession,” Ink says calmly.

“I found them surrounding you. Surrounding Pran. You think that’s a coincidence?” Pat asks arms crossed.

“Why? You think the tight kept secrets of your father have spread to Toungoo?” Ink says, lifting her eyebrow.

Pat knows it’s meant as an honest, straightforward question but it feels like a dig. Pat’s thoughts take a stumble.

“Do you really think Toungoo would try kidnap Pran for themselves?” Korn asks. Pat, still meeting Ink’s cool eyes and trying to find his footing, doesn’t say anything. It only spurs Korn on.

“I mean even if they believed the rumors and thought it would be worth it, don’t you think that would also be the reason why they wouldn’t do it? Stealing a deity? I wouldn’t mess with that amount of bad luck myself.”

Pran coughs. All eyes turn on him. Pat’s mouth falls open.

“Either way, it means someone betrayed us. Someone who knew we were going to be here,” Ink says, diverting the attention back to her.

Pat looks at her and he knows she’s right. He had been thinking about it too. He feels Pran squeeze his fingers around his arm.

Ink taps at Chiang Mai on the map.

“Toto. He knows we are coming. It would be very easy for him to let Toungoo men come across the border without anyone knowing it.”

“We shouldn’t go to Chiang Mai,” Pran whispers.

Pat shakes his head.

“We can’t just turn back on suspicion alone. If it wasn’t Chief Toto and we abandon him now, nothing will stop him from starting that rebellion. My father would have my head if we did that without any evidence.”

“I wonder where we could have gotten such evidence.”

“You know what Ink-“

She crosses her arms and stares Pat down. Of course, she’s right. She always is and he knows it. She had asked him repeatedly what he had been doing when he killed those men and the truth is he still doesn’t know. Pran is in danger is the only thing he remembers thinking.

“But why would Chief Toto work with Toungoo? Aren’t we going up north to help him fight against attacks from Toungoo? Doesn’t he hate them?” Wai asks.

“The enemy of your enemy,” Pran says.

“Are you saying he hates Pat more?”

“I’m saying he might hate Ayutthaya more.”

“Pat is Ayutthaya.”

Pran turns away from Wai and squeezes his arm harder. Pat turns to look at him.

“We shouldn’t go. It’s too dangerous.”

He looks into Pran’s eyes, and he can see that he’s scared. His hand on his arm is cold and Pat can feel his heart beating. He wants nothing more than to make things easier for Pran. He wants him safe and happy. To bring him with him to a possible ambush would not be safe. To make him go home by himself is not a possibility. He doesn’t have that kind of power over him, and he knows him, Pran would never go voluntarily. He wants to turn this whole expedition around, just to see the fear leave Pran’s eyes.

And yet, he can also hear his father’s voice in his head. Don’t bring dishonor to this family.

Pat closes his eyes and sighs.

“We can’t turn around now. We have to go.”

Pran lets go of his arm. Pat can’t look at him looking at him like that, like he’s stabbed him.

“We won’t just go in blind. Ink? You are faster than anyone here. Take Shin and scout Chiang Mai. Meet us in Lamphun in ten days. If Chief Toto is planning on ambushing us, you’ll know it.”

Ink nods. She doesn’t waste time. She bows down to Pat and touches Pran’s cheek and then she leaves with Shin in tow.

“We need someone to send word to my father. Wai-“

“If the next sentence out of your mouth isn’t take Pran with you then you know I can’t do that.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Pran says calmly. He doesn’t look at Pat.

“I know you’re not. Wai, I will take care of-“

“You know that’s not how it works,” Wai scoffs.

Pat grits his teeth together. He needs Korn here. He doesn’t know who else he can trust. He hates Wai and yet, not only does he suspect there’s no way Wai could be a rat considering the days he spends together with Pran but worst of all, he knows Wai would be capable of doing the job.

He curses all the gods he knows in his mind.

“Alright. Chang. Mo.”

They turn to him and stand in order.

“Can you do it?” He asks. He doesn’t bother hiding away his worry.

“Of course,” they say, bowing down.

Silence follows in the wake of Mo and Chang leaving. Pat looks at Pran, scratching his arms and avoiding his eyes, and he knows, he knows.

“Korn. Wai. Leave us, will you?”

“Didn’t we just talk about thi-“

“Leave! Just once in your life do what I ask!”

Korn jumps off his perch and goes to Wai. He puts an arm around him.

“Come one, we can stand just outside, like the little guard dogs we are. It’s not like they can escape us,” he says while guiding Wai out.

Once they’ve gone, Pran finally looks at him. He’s still fidgeting.

“This is a bad idea.”

Pat sighs.

“It’s not perfect but what choice do we have? You know as well as I do that this is what my father would do.”

“You don’t think that would be part of my problem with it?”

“I know. I know okay, I know that you don’t…don’t agree with everything he does. But that’s not even the point, the point is that I think this is the best course of action.”

Pran huffs and turns around again. That will not fly. Pat takes him by the arm and pulls him towards him.

“Hey! Do you trust me?”

Pran tries to wiggle free from him, but Pat doesn’t let go. He pulls more, until Pran is standing so close to him that he can feel his breath on his face. He gets a whiff of the smell that’s just Pran, salty ocean and something soft and sweet, like a lotus flower. He feels his cheeks burn and he tries to shake it off. Dragging him this close was an overconfident move.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, with a small voice.

Pran looks into his eyes. He swallows. Time passes by slowly until Pat wonders how long he can take being like this and not-

“Yeah. Of course I trust you,” Pran whispers finally.

Pran looks so uncertain in his arms that Pat can’t help but grab him by the head and pull him even closer. He holds Pran’s cheeks on his palms and smooths down the skin he knows is hiding away his dimples with his thumbs.

“You know I would do anything for you. If you really think we shouldn’t go, then we won’t.”

Pran closes his eyes and leans his head against his.

“I hate it when you’re reasonable.”

Pat laughs.

“Well you know me, you don’t have to endure it for long.”

“Thankfully.”

Pran’s voice is nothing but a mumble anymore. His lips are so close it wouldn’t take anything to touch them, a deep inhale would be enough. He feels his fingers tingling and he can hear his own blood rushing again. It scares him enough to pull away. It startles Pran.

Pat looks at his own hands. It’s fine, they’re fine, there’s no traces of what he did left there anymore.

“Hey Pat? Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?”

“I…”

He looks at his hands again. Pran takes them into his.

“Do you wanna talk about it? What happened before?”

“No. I don’t know. No.”

Pran hums.

“Should I stay with you?”

Pat smiles softly.

“Like when we were kids?”

“Like when we were kids.”

During the night, when Pat pulls Pran into his arms, and he fits there, perfectly, he can hear Korn’s voice in his head. He thinks about Korn’s face and tries to keep his breathing shallow to not give more life to his overexcited body. It’s hard but when they settle into a position, one where only Pran’s upper body is on top of Pat, it feels more comforting that anything else. It feels right. When they are like this, everything feels normal.

“You should stop making me worry so much,” Pran mumbles into his collarbone.

He presses a soft kiss to Pran’s sleepy head and hopes he’s not putting them in any more danger than they need to be.

He falls asleep thinking about taking Pran to Chiang Mai.

He dreams about the border.

**

They set a slower pace for the rest of their journey which somehow makes leading the men even harder. Pat can feel their confusion in the silences that hang after they unquestionably accept the disappearance of Ink, at the prolonged breaks, the early nights, the frustration that comes with having all that pent up energy but nowhere to put it. Pat’s patience is wearing thinner every day and he finds himself snapping far more than he would like to. He thinks about Ink and where she might be. He thinks about his men, Pran and where he might be leading them. He isn’t second-guessing himself. He also can’t remember the last time he slept more than three hours.

Ever since they left Lopburi, Pran has been sleeping in his bed, in his arms, head tucked underneath Pat’s chin, legs tangled with his and it’s doing the opposite of helping how tight he feels he’s being wound up. A string that’s being wound too tight will snap and Pat’s just waiting for his moment. Korn stopped asking if they did it already after the fourth time Pat had thrown him into the ground for it.

Wai, who diligently sits by their tent every single night, hasn’t said anything about the arrangement which somehow bothers Pat even more.

Does he know something that he doesn’t?

It’s what he’s thinking when he’s wrangling his hands together and staring down Wai sitting on the opposite side of the fireplace. They’ve finally arrived in Lamphun, right on time, with all the men still accounted for.

Wai stares back without saying anything which almost annoys him enough to thrown in the gauntlet except for the single fact he’s not ready to be the first one to break here.

That’s how Pran finds them, staring at each other in silence and he groans. Pat doesn’t turn to look at him. So he sits down in front of Pat, leaning his hands gently on Pat’s knees and bringing his face a hairbreadth away from his. The closeness startles him and as he looks down at Pran, he only manages to bring his face that much closer.

“I wonder what you’re looking at so intently.”

Pat swallows loudly. His mouth is dry as he tries to concentrate on something else than Pran’s lips.

“Eh….you?”

Pran rolls his eyes.

“Uh-huh.”

He leans further into Pat’s space only to push himself up and sit down next to him on the log.

“What are you smiling at?” Pran asks looking across from them and Pat is reminded of his original mission. He turns to look at Wai just in time to see him shrug his shoulders without making any effort to hide his smirk.

Fucking bastard.

“Nothing,” Wai says and Pat scoffs. Pran sighs.

“You know, it might be easier if you just pissed on my leg while you were at it.”

Pat turns towards Pran and points his finger at him.

“Don’t challenge me like that. I might do it.”

“You’re both unbearable.”

Wai raises up both of his hands.

“Hey, he always starts it! I’ve done my best to be polite.”

“Oh, have you? Funny I’ve never seen that,” Pat answers before Pran has the time to interfere.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.”

“Oh, it doesn’t? Of course not. Never that.”

“You know what’s unbearable Pran? To be the bodyguard of the prince’s boyfriend when the prince is an absolute lunatic.”

“Who are you calling a lunatic-”

“Woah, okay! Forget it, whatever, do what you want, I don’t care. Pat, have you heard from Ink?” Pran asks.

Pat clicks his tongue a couple of times. He struggles between feeling smug accomplishment at Wai calling Pran his boyfriend and despair at Pran’s swift swerve of the comment. Most probably, it means nothing. They have always gotten teased by almost everyone around them. Wai is nothing but a person who doesn’t know shit anyway.

He rips his gaze away from Wai and shakes his head.

“She’ll be here. Don’t worry.”

Silence falls over them.

Pat knows Ink will be here. There’s nothing in the world that phases Ink. He doesn’t worry about Ink.

But the muted response they got in Lamphun, the silent stares, the pursed lips and crossed out arms do worry him. They had politely made their presence known but told the Chief of Lamphun, an old woman called Kusuma that they would sleep in their own camp this time. Pat couldn’t tell from the ever-present frown on her sunken face whether Kusuma felt slighted or relieved. It didn’t much matter, Pat was ready to offend a few chiefs to ensure that they would be safe or at least better prepared for any attacks that might come their way.

But he can’t help but wonder if that was going to be the reaction as they travel farther north. And what it might mean.

“What’s her deal anyway?” Wai asks, breaking the silence.

Pat looks at Wai behind the flames crackling in the fireplace but doesn’t answer.

“What do you mean?” Pran asks.

“I mean Ink. Who is she? Where did she come from?”

“She’s family.”

“Yeah okay. But…how?”

Pran chuckles. Wai crosses his arms.

“I’m serious. I spend more time with her than anyone else and I know nothing about her.”

“Don’t take it personally. She’s never been a talker.”

Wai groans.

“I noticed. But I don’t think it would be the worst idea in the world that I’d know something about the person who’s supposed to be my partner.”

Pat bursts out laughing. Pran frowns at him.

“What? Come on, it is a little funny.”

Pran leans against his own knees and gives him a pointed glance.

“So what, you think it’s not important Ink and Wai do a good job?”

Pat scoffs. He’s not going to dignify that with an answer. Pran turns back towards Wai.

“I don’t remember much, I was so little when she found me. She said I was just a tiny baby inside a barrel of rice. She was only four herself at that point. But as long as I can remember, it has been Ink and Shin taking care of me.”

“Found you? I thought you grew up in the palace.”

Pran winces and glances at Pat. Pat doesn’t meet his eyes.

“No I…we grew up in…Sukhothai.”

“Oh?”

“We were both orphans. We stayed with Auntie Payao before Pat’s father found us. She was blind but she was good to us. I made food grow for her and Ink protected us.”

Wai’s eyebrows rise up but he’s smiling.

“A four-year-old Ink protected you?”

Pran laughs.

“Have you seen her? She’s always been like that.”

Pat smiles at that too and nods.

“Forged in fire, that one.”

“It was hard, really hard. The house we had at the edge of town didn’t protect us from all the bandits that traveled through it. But I think…”

Pran cuts off and Pat turns to look at him.

“You?” he asks after a while.

“I think I remember being happy.”

Pat stares at Pran who is staring at the fire unflinchingly and all Pat can think about is his dream.

Before he has time to say anything, he’s interrupted by Korn.

“Ink is here,” he says.

**

Walking through the great halls of the palace of Chiang Mai, in between the dark red walls glittering with gold and a roof that reaches almost as high as it does home, surrounded by what feels like the entire army Chief Toto has in his exposal at La Na, makes Pat think about the first time he had walked hand in hand with Pran to meet his grandfather.

His grandfather had sat in his son’s throne, holding onto a sword that had been as big as Pat, still as a statute, older and greyer but as imposing as he had ever been. Pat had been scared for his life but even more scared for Pran’s. His father had stood by his own, meek and subdued, never lifting his eyes from the floor as he plead his case as to why he had brought a brat from Toungoo into the Jindapat home. It’s the first time Pat remembers feeling terror deep inside his bones, terror that made his whole body shake.

Pat is not seven anymore, and he is not going to shake in fear, but he feels it now, the phantom memory, like it had happened yesterday.

They slowly approach the large man standing at the center of the hall. His father always said Chief Toto was a deeply unpleasant and unhappy man who had never spared a smile for his father or his people.

He is smiling now and that makes Pat even more wary.

“Ink. Tell me once more,” Pat whispers while he’s still out of ear sight of Chief Toto.

“There are no Toungoo men in the city. There are no war preparations. The villagers seem to be glad to have you. Chief Toto seems to be happy to have you.”

“Then why does it feel like we’re walking to our own execution?”

“You are not walking to your execution. That much I can promise you,” Ink says with an air of finality. It’s enough.

And in any case, it is too late do anything now.

“Prince Napat Jindapat. Welcome to Chiang Mai!”

Pat offers a wai to Chief Toto and sees Pran and Ink bow down beside him. Korn and Wai stand back farther behind them.

“I heard you had some trouble on the way. Lopburi was it? I hope the rest of your trip proved to be much easier.”

“As easy as it can be,” Pat responds smiling tightly.

“Oh, I’m sure with a leader of your capabilities you had no problems.”

That surprises a laugh out Pat.

“You flatter me too much,” he says awkwardly.

Toto’s smile doesn’t fall but he presses his lips together and stares in silence like he’s assessing Pat. He wonders if he’s being judged lacking.

“Hmm. You think so?”

Pat doesn’t know what he could possibly say to that. He opens his mouth but before he figures it out Toto is already wrapping an arm around his shoulder, like he hadn’t just tried to pick apart Pat’s soul with his stare.

“Come. We have much to talk about but before that I must feed you and your companions.”

Chief Toto guides them to the feast he has set up for them. It is a much grander affair compared to the one they had received in Lopburi. There are servants there to pull back the highchairs for them, to pour them wine and fill their plates. Toto introduces them to his daughter Paradee, who smiles at him a little too long, a little too sweetly. He can feel Pran tense up beside him and it only makes him that more on edge.

Both the father and the daughter seem to be very interested in Pat and the royal seat of the kingdom. They inquire about his father’s health. Praise his accomplishments. Tell him how much happier the people in La Na are now, with Ayutthaya’s protection. Pat nods along through it all, offers his own praises to Toto, which makes the man laugh boisterously. They don’t ask any questions from Pran, which Pat knows he prefers. But every time Paradee laughs and reaches out to touch Pat’s hand from the other side of the table Pran's expression turns more sour. His isolation only makes it that more clear that he despises the whole lot. Pat wants to reach out and tell him that he hates it just as much as he does but there’s no way to do it conspicuously. Even worse, there’s a tiny part of Pat that wonders if Pran’s continued annoyance at any girl that flirts with him means what he thinks it means.

It’s going to be a long night for the both of them.

Eventually, Paradee leaves with a thinly veiled excuse and Pat sighs in relief. He sees her skip towards a girl playing a string instrument at the corner of the great hall. The notes are beautiful but muted, offering a lovely background noise that doesn’t overpower the conversations.

Everything about La Na is putting him on edge, right to the too perfect music and Pat is struck by how much he misses Lopburi and Chief Tong. When he turns around to mention it to Pran, he’s faced with his cold eyes, watching him watch her.

“Hey I wasn’t-“ he starts, but then Toto lowers his wine cup with a loud bang.

Pat fixes his eyes back on him.

“Your Royal Highness-“

“Pat.”

“Your Royal Highness, as you know, we at La Na are forever grateful for Ayutthaya for their generosity and protection. And as you know, La Na has tried to repay that generosity with taking care of the border. We will happily continue to do so but the attacks from Toungoo have intensified in the last year tenfold.”

Pat struggles to not let his smirk show. Finally, they are getting somewhere. He was at the very edge of his tolerance for platitudes.

“Sure,” he says, gesturing with his hand for Toto to keep going.

“This is not surprising, considering how your father has chosen to escalate tensions with Toungoo-“ Pat bites his tongue to hold in the retort about who is escalating what exactly. Toto hurries along anyway after seeing his expression, “Understandably of course, after everything that has happened. It’s just that we are starting to feel outnumbered here.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m sure you understand our plight. And how important it is that we keep the border secure. We wouldn’t want what happened to you at Lopburi to happen again would we?”

“What?”

It’s Pran. It’s the first thing he has said the entire time they’ve been sat down in the table and the amount of disgust dripping in his voice makes Pat think staying silent had been the smart choice. He feels Pran’s leg start to shake, and he puts his hand on it to calm him down.

“So it was you?” Ink says, settling back in her seat, fingers lowering down next to her sword.

“I’m sure I don’t understand what you mean,” Toto says, smiling still.

Pat laughs in shock.

“You really did that to give yourself a better hand? Pretty risky, don’t you think? What do you think my father would have done if they had actually managed to kill me?”

Toto squints his eyes at Pat.

“Are you accusing me of something Prince Jindapat?”

Pat stares at Toto for five long seconds before he says anything. It’s five seconds spent imagining him being trampled by his horses. He clicks his tongue.

“Fine. I’ve brought five hundred men with me, and I can leave most of them here to help you. Food enough to feed them and your people for the summer. Will that be sufficient?”

“Food? I’m almost certain I didn’t see any carriages with your troops.”

Pat gives a look to Pran.

“Don’t worry about that. Food will come. So. Will that be sufficient?”

Toto smiles and this time, Pat suspects it might even be genuine.

“I believe so.”

Pat grimaces with a mockery of the smile that has been given to him.

“Now tell me Chief Toto, is there anything else I can do for you?”

“I think this is quite enough thank you. Of course…”

Pat grits his teeth.

“Yes?”

Toto turns towards Pran and Pat’s stomach sinks.

“Well. We have all heard the stories of the great gift of Phra Mae Thorani. We’ve heard he has the habit of dancing to his guests while he blesses them? Might we get a chance to enjoy it too?”

Pat grabs Pran’s hand.

“You don’t have to do it.”

Pran gives him a disbelieving look. Pat sighs.

“What are you going to do?” He whispers, leaning in until his cheek is touching Pran’s.

“Give them enough but never too much,” Pran responds, repeating the mantra in such a perfect imitation of Ming that Pat can briefly see his father hovering beside them.

Pran stands up. Pat holds onto his hand until he steps out of his reach.

The silence that follows Pran as he walks away from the table and takes careful steps towards the center of the hall is deafening. Pran walks to the lonely string player and whispers something in her ear. She nods and starts playing a soft melody, much sadder than what she had been playing before. Pat closes his eyes and lets the familiar notes wash over him. When he opens his eyes, he sees Pran has started his dance, the one Pat knows by heart. He does it better standing on water but the sea of sighs he gets from the audience as he summons the water from their cups to join his movement tells Pat that he is doing just enough. The water follows the smooth movements of Pran’s hands along intricate loops that go up and down, left and right as Pran twirls and twirls and twirls and the audience gasps in joy. Pat smiles but it feels bittersweet. He knows Pran loves to perform, and he loves to watch him, he just hates it when it happens like this.

Right at the end, before the final swirl, Pran looks straight back into his eyes. Pat only has a moment to register how cloudy Pran’s eyes look before he feels an ocean sweep through him. For a second, Pat feels like he’s drowning. He chokes and clutches at his throat before the feeling passes and he can stutter through his next breath.

He hears the roaring sound of the wind outside and the pouring rain Pran has called upon them. Pran stops his dance by touching the ground and whispering to the earth to come to witness.

Everyone claps. Chief Toto is happy, La Na is happy.

Pat coughs to get the sensation of salty seawater out of his mouth. He watches Pran tremble on his knees while Wai and Ink beside him shift in discomfort as their fingers dance towards their weapons. it doesn’t feel like success.

**

Once Chief Toto has secured what he was after all decorum goes out the window. Pat is happy to stop pretending and as soon as he sees Pran stand up and walk out the door he stands up too. He gives vague promises to Chief Toto about making merit at their temple before they leave but he’s more concerned about Wai also making moves to stand up. He gives a pleading look to Ink. She nods and stops Wai with a hard grip on his shoulder. Pat is forever grateful to her.

Pat catches up to Pran right outside the great hall. Pran doesn’t stop walking even though he must hear Pat follow him. It sets him right off.

He rushes towards him and pulls him to stop by his arm.

“Hey!”

“What?”

Pran looks back at him and his eyes seem endlessly tired and unhappy. Pat would take pity on him if he wasn’t so worried.

“What do you mean what? We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know, maybe about the storm that’s currently raging outside? Is the roof of this place going to hold?”

Pran scoffs.

“It will hold,” he says, ripping his arm away from Pat as he starts walking again.

“Oh, come on. Tell me what’s going on.”

“No thanks.”

There are some colorful words that pop into Pat’s mind but he keeps them in long enough to make it to Pran’s quarters. Not surprisingly, Pran tries to shut the door in his face, but Pat holds it open. He doesn’t often use his strength over Pran but they both know there’s nothing Pran can actually do to stop him from pushing himself in.

Pran eventually steps out of the way.

“Pat please.”

Instead of sounding angry, he’s shifted to pleading. It’s not going to help him this time.

“No, we are going to talk now. There’s a hurricane outside and for a second, I felt like I was going to-”

Pat pauses before he continues. Pran eyebrows drawn in in confusion.

“What?”

Pat thinks about how Pran’s eyes had looked in that moment, how they had been covered by a thin grey veil during the dance and he realizes that Pran probably doesn’t know what he did. He has gotten so used to seeing Pran move water around according to his whims that he has forgotten how little control Pran seems to have over most things he does.

He wants answers from Pran. About them. He doesn’t think he’s going to get them if he tells him he felt like he was drowning for a moment, just from Pran looking at him.

“It doesn’t matter. Why are you so upset Pran?”

Pran crosses his arms and looks down to the ground.

“I’m not,” he mumbles.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Pran looks away and stays silent. Pat sighs.

“Is it because of Chief Toto?”

“He’s disgusting.”

“I know. And Toto’s daughter?”

A thunder strikes right outside the window Pat is standing next to. It’s an answer as much as anything.

“Okay. And why do you hate her?”

Pran groans and hides his face into his hands.

“Pat can we not do this?”

“Why not?” Pat asks, choking up, to his own horror.

“You know why! You know why, so can we please not do this, I can’t Pat, can we just-“

He sees Pran shudder in distress. He walks up to him and peels away his hands from his face. His face is blotchy and red from crying.

Pat looks at his lips. Pran lets out a sob but he doesn’t move away. His eyes turn to Pat’s lips too and it is enough of a permission. He lets go of Pran’s hands to grab a hold of his face as he finally kisses him. He trembles as he slowly and gently takes Pran’s lips into his. Pran doesn’t do anything for a beat, and Pat is scared for his life, he’s scared to move or breath, what if he fucked this up-

But then he feels Pran deepen the kiss and tangle his hands into his hair. Pat shakes uncontrollably as he pushes 11 years of love into Pran. Pran opens his mouth for him and Pat dives in, happy to be drowning like this. Pran’s hands in his hair pull and guide his mouth harder against his and with every swipe against Pran’s tongue, his breathing becomes harder. He wraps Pran’s head in his hands as he holds onto dear life and kisses him and kisses him until he’s breathless and even then, he refuses to let go.

Eventually he can feel Pran pull away from his lips. He keeps his forehead leaned against his. He smiles at him, so in love he feels like he could burst with it.

But Pran is still crying. It takes a while for it to register but he’s chanting something.

“No, no, no, no, no…”

The bottom of his stomach falls away.

“What?” he asks, voice breaking with fear.

“We can’t do this,” Pran says, without opening his eyes.

Pat tries to exhale but his chest is too tight. He chokes and sobs trying to get air in. He never dreamed that there would be this much crying involved when he dared to dream about kissing Pran.

“Why not?”

Pran pulls away from his arms completely. The air he leaves behind feels so cold.

“Pran, why not?”

Pran doesn’t look at him.

“Things are complicated enough.”

“How?”

“You know how.”

Pran’s not meeting his eyes again and it’s infuriating and it’s breaking his heart.

He feels his fingers start to tingle.

“Tell me like you think I’m stupid,” he says, with enough venom in his voice to make Pran face him.

The wind starts back up again. Anger is good. Anger is better than nothing.

“The princesses. The daughters of all the chief’s in the world Pat. Why do you think they are lining up to meet you? Or better yet, why do you think your father is meeting with the King of Angor?”

Pat crosses his arms.

“He wants to make an alliance.”

“He wants to make an alliance. And what would he have to offer to Angor?”

Pat doesn’t say anything. He looks outside. The dark clouds are swirling.

“Come one. I know you know this one. Ayutthaya has a prince. They have a princess.“

Pat bristles at that. It’s not like the thought hadn’t crossed his mind but it seemed miniscule and far away compared to how much he just wanted to kiss and hold Pran every single day of his life.

“I’m not going to just go along with it.”

“I don’t think anyone’s asking your opinion.”

With the storm gathering outside and the heat coming off his body, Pat sees sparkles fly between them. The air feels heavy, like Pran is about make thunder and rain happen inside the palace. He shakes his fingers in an effort to stop them burning.

“I don’t care. He can’t force me.”

“I think he can.”

“Well what does it matter anyway? Marriage with some random person wouldn’t mean anything to me. It’s not like father would force me to move anywhere else.”

“It matters to me! It matters! There is a storm outside that might hurt people because just the thought of it is making me insane! I can’t control it, Pat! I wish I could, I really wish I could, but I can’t, I can’t do it-”

The air crackles then and the hairs on Pat’s skin stand up. He can feel something trying to burst through his skin. He vaguely registers a pearl of yellow light floating of from his arm, like his veins are actually coming apart before he closes his eyes, praying that lighting won’t kill him.

But the hit doesn’t come. Instead, the door is banged open, and the air seems to freeze over. He opens his eyes and sees Ink and Shin standing at the doorway.

She stares down Pran until the air settles, inside and outside.

“I think you should leave,” she says, turning to Pat.

“No way.”

Pran shakes his head.

“You need to go.”

“I won’t go anywhere. We need to talk about this.”

“Korn! Take Pat to his own room.”

**

Pat doesn’t sleep.

When the sun starts to shine through his window and Korn knocks on his door again to inform him that Chief Toto is waiting for them at the temple, he is ready to leave immediately. He’s worn a path into the floor of his room, and he cannot be stuck there even one more moment.

He needs to talk to Pran. He needs to talk to Pran and he is going to make that happen even if it kills the both of them.

Korn’s eyes widen when he sees him.

“Fuck, you look rough! Seriously, what happened last night?”

Pat shakes his head and starts walking towards the temple. He walks as fast as he can get away with and it surprises Korn, who has to run to catch up. He doesn’t ask any questions though and in that moment, Pat remembers again why he begged his father to pick Korn.

The walk is a grueling one. The road uphill seems never ending and the air turns thinner the father up they go. Pat’s back is drenched in sweat but he doesn’t slow down. The pain centers him. When they finally arrive at the temple, a swirling pagoda with an impressive golden mount, Pat can see that the others are already there. He would curse Korn but he knows he’s just following along the instructions Pat has given him a long time ago. Don’t wake me up until it’s absolutely necessary.

He sees Pran, Ink and Shin standing at the side of the steps to the temple, with Chief Toto and his daughter lining up the other side. Wai is standing at a distance from them, clearly keeping his eyes on the road. Pat tries to catch Pran’s eyes but it’s no use.

“Prince Napat! I hope you had a good night sleep,” Chief Toto says happily as he walks up to them, even though the rings around his eyes must tell him that he didn’t.

“Of course. Thank you for welcoming us here,” he says through a forced smile that is easy to pull back after last night.

Two of his servicemen walk up to them and hand them all plates filled with food and flowers. Chief Toto gestures towards the temple and Pat leads the way. He finds Pran walking beside him, like he always does, but he’s still not looking at him. If they weren’t about to walk inside a temple, Pat would tackle him right there.

Slowly, they approach the monk sitting eyes closed in the middle of the temple, bowing down and lowering the plates in front of him. They get on their knees side by side, Pat, Pran and Ink, and a long silence greets them.

When the monk finally opens his eyes, he stares somewhere past all of them. He swallows twice before speaking.

“You are a long way from home, aren’t you, oh mighty guard of the Gods,” he says, staring at no one. Until he turns to Ink.

The silence that follows is even heavier than the one preceding it, with Ink staring down the monk with the same vigor she stares down everyone else in her life. Pat does not understand at all what is happening.

“How did you find your way to these humans?” the monk asks, eventually.

“Not quite humans, are they?” Ink responds, unsmiling, squinting her eyes.

This time the monk turns towards him and Pran.

“I see. Not quite indeed.”

He reaches for Pran, with dexterity and speed Pat was not at all prepared for and his first instinct is to yell and try to stop him. Ink reaches her hand towards him, and an invisible force pushes him back down.

The monk exams Pran, hands on his face, fingers prying into his eyes and mouth. He lets go and hums in what sounds like content.

“I see her spirit in you. Phra Mae Thorani. Mother Earth. A blessing and a curse, I am sure. Let her nurture you, guide you. She won’t hurt you. Resisting her might.”

Pran nods slowly, mouth still hanging open.

No matter how many monks they have visited before, no one has ever said anything about her. No one has ever acknowledged there was something different about Pran. It had always been the villagers that lived with Pran, whispering the name of Phra Mae Thorani with no actual knowledge of what it meant. It had been Pran’s sole purpose at one point, tracking all the monks in Ayutthaya down, begging for answers no one seemed willing to give. Pat had helped him track those monks down, just as desperate to give him answers. Just as long as it meant they didn’t need to come look for them here, right at the border of Toungoo. But of course, they should have known they needed to come to the northern most point for this. It’s serendipitous and Pat almost laughs at how all the roads really were leading them here, no matter how afraid of it Pat has been.

The monk turns towards him.

“And you. A see something in you too. Something fierce.”

This does make Pat laugh.

“You must be mistaken.”

Then he is subjected to the same scrutiny that Pran was. Pat wriggles through it, the scratchy dry fingers probing his face like he was made of clay.

“Tell me boy, are you overwhelmed by the need to protect those you love? Would you bring unimaginable destruction upon this world if it meant saving those you consider yours?”

Pat is about to give him a vehement denial, but his fingers crack with heat again. His veins burn so suddenly, it scares Pat into silence.

“Hmm. I bet it consumes you.”

The monk stretches Pat’s eyelids.

“I can see her in you. Black Tara. Phi Fa,” he says but he looks uncertain, like he’s testing out names.

“Kali,” he says, after a beat. Then he lets go of Pat’s face and settles back on his seat.

“You should be careful when you call upon her. You might not always like the consequences.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pat says even though he can feel himself burn, right to the core of his bones.

“I think we’ll both know in good time.”

The monk taps him on his cheek one more time.

“Protect each other. It’s your destiny. Fulfill your destiny, and this land will know peace again.”

**

Pat walks back to the palace in a daze. They are offered food again but even at the risk of pissing off the prickliest chief on earth, Pat declines. There’s no way he can sit through a performance of a conversation right now. He excuses himself by saying he has to oversee the men he’s leaving behind settling in and that’s where he is now, watching the men set up a more permanent camp and listening to Korn tell him a longwinded version of what seems to amount to “everything is going great”.

He hears it and he sees it but he’s really not there. He wonders what he should do now. What can he do now?

“And the rice paddies seem to be popping up everywhere, which is good. Oh Pran. We were just talking about you. Is everything alright?” He hears Korn ask. It startles Pat back to reality.

He follows Korn’s gaze and indeed, finds Pran walking towards them. His steps are slow and he’s fumbling his fingers together. He keeps shifting his gaze between the ground and Pat’s face.

“Hey,” he says, quietly, when he finally is right in front of them. Now that he’s close, Pat can see drank rings around his eyes too. He doesn’t look like he slept at all either.

“Hi,” he says, after a pause.

“What are you doing up here alone Pran?” Korn asks. Pran ignores him.

“Can we talk?” he asks Pat.

He spent the whole night thinking about what he wanted to say to Pran. He wracked his brain for what he could possibly say or do to make Pran want to be with him. To convince Pran that it would be worth it. How could he make him see what he saw? That everything would be okay if they just stayed together? That nothing they faced could be worse than the alternative? How happy they could be together?

He had left his room with a singular purpose of getting Pran to talk to him. He’s here now but Pat has no idea what he wants to say to him anymore. Everything has changed.

Everything except one thing. Pran is still his best friend and he aches for his presence like a body aches for a missing limb. There’s no one else in his life he wants to talk about what is happening to him. No one else he needs more.

Pat desperately wants to hug him.

“Mm. You got this Korn?”

“More than you ever did. But don’t wander of too far away, okay?”

Pran tilts his head and Pat follows him. As they start walking, Pran doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t mind it. He feels more at peace than he has the entire day just by having him there.

When he eventually stops, Pat sees Pran has taken them to a small creek, hidden in the nearby forest. It doesn’t surprise him. He used to marvel at Pran’s ability to find water wherever he went. But of course he did.

Pran sits down and taps the ground next to him. Pat sighs and plops down willingly. By instinct, he almost lays his head against Pran’s arm but he hesitates. He can’t count the number of times they’ve sat like this, by the pond at home, but he doesn’t know if he should anymore.

Pran looks at him and maybe he’s thinking about it too. How strange things are between them.

“How are you feeling?” Pran asks.

“I don’t know. You?”

“I don’t know. Relieved, I think? It’s nice to know that it’s real.”

Pat hums.

“So you believe him?”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t know. Yeah, I guess I do.”

Pran reaches his hand towards him but stops midway. He pulls it back slowly.

“And what he said about you? You think it’s true?”

Pat looks at his own fingers. He can imagine the glowing light there, the blood, the fire. The memory he’s been avoiding for a long time. No matter how much he scrubs, he can’t clean away the smell from his mind.

“I think…I think something strange has been happening to me ever since I killed those men at Lopburi.”

This time Pran doesn’t stop himself from reaching out. He brings his hand onto his shoulder. The touch is enough to break the hold Pat has on himself. He feels his eyes welling up.

“It’s okay.”

“Is it? I’m kinda scared,” he says, voice breaking down.

“Heey,” Pran says and then he’s pulling him in, wrapping both of his arms around him, “don’t be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Pat laughs a watery laugh into Pran’s sleeve.

“That’s my line.”

“It’s always been both of ours. Destiny, didn’t you hear?”

Pat laughs again.

“What the hell did that even mean?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. We’ll be fine.”

They sit like that until Pat has to pull back up to breath properly. He leans his head against Pran’s arm this time though, like he wanted to right from the beginning.

Pran tangles his fingers into his hair and pets him gently.

“Can you feel her?” he asks Pran.

“I think so. I always could. I just wasn’t sure what it was.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Uncontrollable,” Pran says and then he smiles, “but also warm. And strong. Like a mother’s embrace.”

“Must be nice.”

Pran stops petting his head so he can look at him.

“Hey Pat. You will be fine.”

Pat doesn’t say anything to that.

“Did you talk to Ink?” he asks instead.

Pran’s smile falls immediately. His mouth draws into an angry line and he shakes his head.

“She said to me that all of it would make sense in due time. That everything was happening the way it was supposed to but that she had to leave now, for a little while. That she would tell me everything later,” Pran pushes a stick into the ground beneath them hard enough for it break.

“Leave?”

“Leave. She didn’t say where. Or when she would come back,” Pran says, laughing but it’s not a nice laugh.

Pat needs to talk to her, he wants some real answers out of her for once in her god forsaken life too but he doesn’t think he can’t step in between what is going on with her and Pran. She has always been his sister more than anything. When Pran had nothing, he had Ink. Pat can only imagine the things going through his head right now.

He lifts himself up and looks at Pran, properly.

“Should we run away?” he asks him.

Pran scoffs.

“What?”

“I’m serious.”

“You can’t just run away. You’re the future king.”

Pat gets up. He wrangles his hands and shuffles his feet. He has been thinking about this moment for so long. Dreading it. He’s so afraid to ask. But the answer to everything, to them, seems so clear to him now.

He swallows and he turns his back to Pran. He doesn’t want to look at him when he breaks his own heart.

“And you? Do you want to leave?”

“What? No.”

Pran’s easy answer has Pat turning around in indignation.

“I know you think about it. I know you. I know.”

“Pat…”

“Do you want to leave?”

Pran looks away from him. He doesn’t say anything.

Pat swallows back his own tears and his own pride and his own happiness.

“You could. Just disappear. We’re so close to the border. I won’t stop you.”

For a moment, Pran just keep his eyes on the water and Pat is once again reminded of all his dreams. But then he sees a full body tremor go through Pran. He shakes himself and turns back to face him.

“I would never do that to you. Leave you like that.”

“You could.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

This time it’s Pran’s turn to stand up. He walks up to Pat and sweeps his thumbs across his cheeks. He presses on his skin hard.

“Because I love you. I love you so much it’s not fair to the rest of the world.”

Pat closes his eyes and takes it in. It’s what he thought he had always wanted to hear. But it hurt now, it hurt so much. He is prepared to let go of him but he doesn’t know if he has it in him to fight about it. Not like this.

“I know you want to go home. To Toungoo. I know you do.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?” Pat cries. He is not this strong.

“Because home is you Pat. I swear allegiance to my king and my kingdom and it’s you who I think about Pat, it’s all for you. Not Ayutthaya. Not Toungoo. You. No matter how much I think about leaving sometimes, I would betray all of them if you just asked.”

Fire starts burning inside Pat again. He tries to calm it down but something in him, something he thinks he can name now, is reveling in Pran’s words.

“I would never ask.”

“I know you wouldn’t.”

“I don’t want to be the reason you stay. It feels like I’m trapping you.”

Pran grabs Pat’s head and leans his forehead against his. Helplessly, Pat lays his hands on his hips and pulls him closer.

“You’ve never forced me to stay. You’ve never even asked me to stay.”

“I didn’t need to, did I?”

“Pat. You are not the cause of my unhappiness.”

“You know that I would have helped you? If you had wanted to go. Still would. Always.”

Pran smiles.

He’s so close to him, smiling at him so sweetly, smelling so much like home, telling him he loves him more than anything else and Pat can’t help but hope. He knows nothing about Pran’s worries have been addressed. He knows, better than anyone that if he convinces Pran to do this then he will be pitting them against his father. It will get bloody.

Pat traces Pran’s smile with his fingers.

The blood would be worth it.

“Yeah. I do know that.”

His lips are so soft.

“Listen. You’ve only ever made me happy. You hear me?”

Pat nods at that, transfixed by Pran’s mouth. He can’t believe he got to touch it just yesterday. It feels like a lifetime ago. But he wants it, fuck he wants it. He watches his own fingers tremble on Pran’s face and wonders how much want will kill a person. He feels like he’s coming apart from the seams.

“I won’t leave you.”

“No?” he whispers, softly replacing his fingers with his mouth. He doesn’t kiss him fully, just traces the edges of his lips, trying to commit to memory what the air feels like this, when he’s so close. He maps Pran’s face with his lips, trailing the peaks and valleys of his cheeks and dimples, all the way down to the corner of his ear. Pran tilts his head back and his eyes fall shut. Pat shivers at the sight of it. His heart is on pins and needles.

“Not like that. I was thinking I could leave when you were getting married to someone else. Your new wife would keep you busy. You might not even notice.”

This makes Pat pull back. He looks at Pran in disbelief. He wants to laugh but he’s afraid he’s not joking.

“I hate you.”

“You do?”

“I’m going to kiss you again.”

He catches his lips between his own before he has time to answer. He puts his whole body into it, both hands on his cheeks, pressing into every bit of Pran he can reach. Pran stumbles two steps back, holding onto his shoulders as he steadies the both of them. He kisses Pran hard, hard enough to hurt he’s sure, but all he can think about is how much he wants this and how he can’t let go now that he’s here again. Maybe once, he could have done this and still let Pran go. Not anymore, not when it’s like this.

This time Pran doesn’t hesitate. He responds with the same strength. He kisses him back and it feels like he’s going to devour him. He bites into Pat’s lip and he opens his mouth to him. Pran’s tongue feels amazing against his. Heavy breathing intermingles with the sound of wet lips and tongues. Pat is painfully hard. He’s struck by just an overwhelming need to get inside him. He wraps his arms around Pran’s ass and grabs and squeezes until Pran gets the hint and jumps into his arms.

He has no idea what he’s doing. He feels like he’s going insane.

“You feel so good,” he whispers in between kisses as pushes forward until Pran’s back hits a tree.

“Ugh,” Pran wheezes, like his breath has been knocked out.

“I’m sorry!”

Pran laughs.

“Shut up,” he says before continuing to kiss him down his neck, sucking and biting so hard Pat knows it’s going to leave marks.

Pat fondles Pran’s ass and lifts him up until his hips are perfectly aligned with his. He guides Pran’s legs around him and then he takes a strong grip on his waist as he grinds against him. He’s so hard and as soon as his dick touches Pran’s, equally hard, he’s ready to lose it. Pran bangs his head against the tree, and he grimaces in pain.

“Careful,” Pat grunts and wriggles one of his hands in between the tree and Pran’s head while still keeping up the rhythm, snapping his hips back and forth.

Pran moans and turns his head towards the palm that’s supporting his head. Pat’s mind is clouded by the competing needs of wanting to just come or holding on a little longer just to see Pran like this. He doesn’t even think about what he does next. He sees Pran mouthing his palm and he pushes his thumb into it. Pran immediately closes his lips around it and sucks.

“Fuck,” he cries. He really really needs to get his hands on him.

He gathers him in his arms, wraps his arms tightly around his middle and lowers them both to the ground. He gets in between Pran’s bent legs and starts to pull his pants away. Pran reaches for his pants and helps to lower them just enough to get his dick out. He’s never felt crazier in his entire life.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he tells Pran before he spits into his own hand and wraps it around both of them.

Pran moans and curves his back off the ground like a bendy cat. He reaches for Pat’s hand around them and suddenly, the spit in his hand multiplies and turns into something stickier.

“Fuck yes,” he whispers in excitement as feels for the slide. He puts his other hand on Pran’s neck, feels him swallow underneath it. He pumps his hand around their dicks, finding a rhythm from Pran’s tiny little whines. The drag of Pran’s skin against him, the fact that it’s Pran and it’s them and it’s his skin, is enough to drive him to the edge. A tremor goes through his body, right down to his toes, and he feels hot, like he’s burning, like his entire body is on fire. He closes his eyes and cries out as pleasure is wrenched out from the bottom of his stomach and he comes. He comes harder than he’s ever come in his life. He blacks out for a second. When he comes back to his senses, he feels Pran’s hand on top of his, continuing to guide it back and forth.

“Don’t you dare stop,” Pran whispers, voice shaking, lip quivering, like the sound is forcefully pulled out of him. Pat doesn’t and the drag on his oversensitive skin starts to feel good again. Pran’s hands reach for his head and they pull so hard Pat feels him take strands of his hair with him and then comes, right there in Pat’s arms. A sweaty, shivering mess. His body looks so small engulfed by Pat’s arms. He has never looked more beautiful.

He doesn’t know what they are going to do when they get back home but he does know that what he’s holding now, feels so much more important than anything that could be waiting them. He knows it’s the truth and he is going to make Pran see it too.

He lowers down to catch Pran’s lips in a kiss. It’s a soft kiss, lips barely touching. But it’s only when he’s there that he realizes the skin around Pran’s neck is angry red. He touches it and it’s scratchy and raised. Imprints of his fingers.

“Pran! Did I burn you?”

Pran shakes his head eyes closed, like he’s ready to fall asleep right there.

“These are burn marks on your neck.”

“It’s fine,” he whispers eventually, voice hoarse.

“It’s not fine! It’s absolutely not fine, why didn’t you say anything, why would you let me hurt you, I’m so sorry-”

Pat knows he’s panicking but he can’t help it. Pran must hear it too and he opens his eyes. Pat doesn’t have any time to react before he’s being tackled to the ground, flipped on his back. Pran sits down on his thighs, just barely grazing his dick and Pat almost goes mad with the ideas rushing into his head.

Pran presses his hands above his head.

“Pat I’m not a flower. You can burn me a little bit.”

Pat meets his steady gaze. His eyes leave no room for disagreement.

Promise me we’ll be okay, he thinks.

**

Long after Prince Jindapat and his closest friends have left Chiang Mai, a woman in a bright red dress circles the fire in the middle of the great hall, ten times, exactly, slowly, methodically, stepping over the slain Ayutthaya men at her feet, before she speaks.

“It was him.”

“Are you certain?”

Toto takes a deep inhale. His voice doesn’t stutter. His hands don’t shake.

“Yes.”

This makes the woman stop.

“My son?”

“Yes.”

She turns towards the monk standing in the corner.

“He was your son. The eye never lies.”

She closes her eyes and hums.

“Very well. War it is then,” Dissaya says.

Toto bows down to her, the queen of Toungoo, who so gracefully has brought her entire army to his home.

**