Chapter Text
“Please help me, I escaped the farmer. I’m so hungry, please help me,” the horse pleads, mind addled with hunger and pain and terror.
The horse had appeared so suddenly that Soobin didn’t have time to put up his usual barrier between their energies, and her frantic emotions flood through Soobin. Visions fill his mind: dingy barn stalls, being struck with a thick wooden handle, endless hunger, flames leaping through windows. It wells up into another sob.
He can barely hear Yeonjun’s panicked, “What is it? What’s wrong?” It clashes up against the horse’s pleas for food, for help.
Shaking, he forces himself into action. “We have a few carrots,” Soobin says quickly, scrambling in their packs. “I have… I have a few horse cakes, they’re Gwen’s favorite, oats and apple…”
The horse gobbles them all down greedily, letting Soobin pet her neck with a gentle hand.
Yeonjun approaches and asks softly, “What’s wrong with her?”
“She said she escaped a farmer. There was a fire. What farmer? What did they do to you?” he asks her.
She shivers and stomps her hooves. “I’m old. My family before gave me a good life, but I became old, and my hip hurt too much during riding, so they sold me to the farmer. The farmer buys a lot of horses, all of us old, or blind, or with bad backs. He doesn’t keep us, he kills us. I saw horses killed, and carts of meat being sold.”
Soobin turns to Yeonjun with hollow eyes. “She escaped a horse farm. Probably, he was going to just turn her into glue because she’s older and not so good for meat. Probably didn’t bother feeding her more than just enough to keep her from dying.”
He knows his eyes are welling up with tears but he can’t look away from Yeonjun, horrors flashing through his brain. His chest roils with disgust and anger. Yeonjun places a hand on Soobin’s arm, firm and comforting.
The horse nudges his other arm, trying to get at the other carrot he’s holding. He turns back to her. “I can heal your leg,” he tells her, sensing the pain in her joints.
“There’s no injury, I’m just old,” she replies. More shyly: “If you could take me home, if you had a little space in your barn…”
It nearly breaks his heart. Tears spill down his cheeks. “I’m weeks from home, I’m so sorry. We’re traveling on the river, I wish I could- if- I’m so sorry.”
Her kind, resigned acceptance makes him feel ill. She thinks he’s making excuses not to take in an old useless horse, and she thinks that’s fair enough.
“Tell me about the fire?”
“This evening. Everyone in the barns smelled smoke, and a horse by the door, her name is Jessu, said the farmer’s house was on fire. Then someone came to the barns, it was someone like you, who can understand us. He freed every last one of us, and then burned down the barns too. Most of us are too weak to do anything but die out here in the woods, but, that is better than dying in there…”
“Jessu,” Soobin blurts out. It was hardly even what he was thinking of, he was hardly thinking of anything at all, overwhelmed with information and shock.
“Jessu?” Yeonjun says, louder, concern furrowing his brows deeper.
“Was there a horse named Gwen? Or Raf?”
“Yes,” the horse confirms.
Soobin’s heart plummets to his feet. “And they… they’re alive still? Not slaughtered?”
“I saw them kicking open a barrel of grain as I escaped.”
That makes him laugh in relief. He turns to Yeonjun. “Our horses are there, we have to go find them. We have to-”
It hits him like a landslide. He collapses, face in his hands. “Where is Taehyun if all our horses are sold to a slaughterhouse?”
“Taehyun would never, never have done such a thing. Even if he had been convinced that I was somehow misleading him, that I was actually a- a wrong, evil thing, he would never do that to the horses, he wouldn’t-”
A hand rests on his back and he realizes he’s nearly hyperventilating, shuddering and coughing out breaths between words, cheeks wet.
He stands again, forcing his breath into a rhythm. “We have to go. Now. We have to go now and find the horses. Is it far?” he asks the old horse.
“Not far. An hour, perhaps? If the wind changes I think we could smell the smoke even here. I came directly east, I think. Not far from here is a road; if you follow it, there’s a smaller road to the farm at a large oak tree.”
He can see the gnarled oak tree in her thoughts, the farm at the end of a winding lane. “Thank you. You are so brave, so very good.”
Brushing across her strong neck, he thinks a moment, try to calm his racing mind and reason through the adrenaline in his body. “Do you know the town of Hort Mill?”
“Yes, I took my riders there sometimes in the warm months. Though, I’m not sure of the way from here.”
“It’s on the opposite riverbank and to the east. You’ll reach another smaller river that goes up into Hort Mill. I’m going to heal your leg so you can get there quicker and find the village healer. She’s a kind woman. I’ll give you a note explaining, she’ll take care of you, I’m sure of it.”
The horse hesitates. Soobin can feel her hope, her exhaustion, her reluctance to hope.
“I cannot cross a river this big, I think.”
Avoiding Yeonjun’s eyes, he tries to school his voice into nonchalance. “I’ll float you across the river.”
“You’ll what?” Yeonjun says with alarm, stepping closer. “Shouldn’t you be conserving-”
“It’s alright,” he cuts him off. “The water will do most of the work, I’ll just stabilize her in the deep part.”
A hesitant huff of breath, big eyes wild, ears twitching back and forth. Finally the horse consents, taking a step closer to nuzzle against Soobin’s neck. “I’m sorry to cause you trouble. I know I’m just an old horse but, I don’t want to die yet…”
Big sobs cough out of Soobin’s chest, flooded with her gratitude and shame. “You shouldn’t have to! Your family should’ve kept you, they should’ve given you a warm place to rest after you served them for so long, they- they should’ve-”
He buries his face in her tangled mane and cries, unable to disconnect from her broken anguish. A warm hand slides across his shoulders again, slow and soothing.
“Let me write Asra a note,” he sniffles after a few minutes, ducking away from both of them and wiping the tears from his face.
Crying quietly and trying to keep his tears off the little scrap of paper, he writes by the fire. Yeonjun behind him is soothing the horse with a soft voice and gentle hands. It’s nearly as effective on him as it is on the horse.
“What’s her name?” Yeonjun asks quietly.
“I was always called Cinnamon,” the horse tells Soobin.
“Cinnamon,” he says softly.
“Cinnamon,” Yeonjun repeats, voice warm and gentle. “Sweet girl. Sweet cinnamon roll of a horse. What a pretty color you are, hm?”
His voice calms them both. Soobin takes a deep shuddering breath and steadies his hand.
Asra,
Mo sholas. This horse escaped a bad man. Please take care of her for me. She is very grateful and sweet-natured. Her name is Cinnamon. I hope to visit you both some day soon.
He folds the note tightly around three gold coins to help Asra feed Cinnamon and tucks it into a few layers of wax paper.
“I’m going to braid it into your mane, okay? I wish I had a brush but Taehyun took it…”
Once the little pouch is secure at the top of her mane, Soobin readies himself to heal her hip. His eyes go distant as he feels around her body. She was right; it wasn’t an injury exactly, just wear and tear in the hip joint and inflamed tissue. His healing would help for a few weeks, but the pain would come back.
“There’s so many bruises,” he says with horror, feeling around the rest of her.
“The farmer is an angry, ugly, stupid man. He liked to hit us.”
Soobin’s blood turns to ice, and fire, and for a second he can almost feel himself shifting into something monstrous, something that could strike down the farmer with one drag of his claws-
Stop, stop it. He forces himself to breathe, in, out.
“He hit you this many times?”
Yeonjun whips around at the question, anger hardening his face.
“Yes. He shot any of us who tried to fight back.”
“I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him, I’ll-”
Soobin forces himself to breathe hard through his nose, teeth clenched tight.
Cinnamon seems to think it a fair response. “He may already be dead; I heard him shouting inside the house as it burned.”
He nods. Lips pressed tight, hands shaking, fat angry tears spill down his cheeks. He can feel her memories, the terror, the humiliation, the grief of abandonment and watching her friends be beaten and killed.
A hand lands on his shoulder. “Are you-?”
“He beat them. For fun. Wasn’t enough to neglect and slaughter them, he beat them, over and over-”
Yeonjun exhales in a slow, controlled rage. “Cesspool of a human,” he mutters.
Taking a moment to push out the other thoughts, Soobin heals the horse’s bad hip and the bruises on her jaw and stomach that hurt the most.
“Okay. Are you ready to swim?”
Her nervousness flickers through him, but she shakes herself all over, amazed at the pain that has left her body.
“I’m ready. Thank you. Thank you for helping an old horse like me.”
Tears spill over again but he doesn’t even notice. “Let’s go. The river stays shallow until near the middle, but the current is pretty quick. I’ll make sure you make it across okay.”
Yeonjun puts out a hand to stop him. “Do you want to wait until morning? You could build up your energy a little…”
He shakes his head. “No, now. I’m fine, I barely used magic all day.”
The truth is, he doesn’t know how much of his magic it will take to float a horse across such a large river, and he’s already feeling a little tired from healing her.
Rage threatens to choke him. Less than a year ago, he wouldn’t have even noticed a healing, or two, or three. Someone’s greed and scheming is draining him away from himself, snatching away his ability to care for others, to help, to do anything at all.
“Okay Cinnamon. Ready?”
They’re standing knee deep in the river, water biting cold in the moonlight. Yeonjun walks out with them, which almost makes Soobin smile. Despite not having a stitch of magic, he looks ready as can be to pitch in.
“Good luck Cinnamon,” Yeonjun says, patting gently at her good hip.
The fact that Yeonjun noticed and remembered which hip was painful glows bright in Soobin’s chest. His magic activated, he can see Yeonjun’s warm, electric aura, so large, so engulfing. Kindness that is so genuine.
“Sweet human,” Soobin murmurs, smiling at him, mind hazy and overextended.
Yeonjun’s eyes go wide for a second, and then shy, and then the usual facade slides back up. “Thank you, Cinnamon,” Yeonjun grins, thinking the compliment came from her.
Cinnamon stomps nervously in the water. “I’m ready to swim.”
Her bravery in spite of all she went through, despite the uncertainty she faces, despite the strength and life draining away from her, brings tears back to Soobin’s eyes. He can relate.
“I won’t let you drown,” he vows. “Good luck, Cinnamon.”
She thanks him again, and sets out into the river. Her pace slows as the water rises higher around her, plodding into the current.
The moment her feet no longer touch the bottom and she drifts a bit, Yeonjun gasps and grips Soobin’s arm.
It’s oddly comforting. “She’s okay still,” he murmurs, as much to himself as to Yeonjun.
He raises his dacra hand, ready to assist the second she needs it. She’s halfway now, barely visible, head only barely peeking out of the water, kicking wildly against the current there in the depths.
“The water is so fast out here,” she thinks wildly to him. “And so cold. I’m already so tired, what if I can’t make it?”
“This is the hardest part and you’re doing great. I will not let you drown. See? I’ve got you.”
He lifts her just a little, just enough to steady her.
A little more, when she begins to tire and panic.
A little more, when her malnourished muscles begin to cramp up in the cold water.
A little push, a little healing in her legs, a little more levitation as the water laps around her chin…
She makes it, stumbling when her feet find land again on the opposite bank. A whinny and a splash meets their ears and Yeonjun shouts in delight.
“Cinnamon!” he yells across the water. “Brave, perfect horse! You did it! You did it, Cinnamon!”
Throat still raspy from near drowning, the words come out half broken and warbling, but his joy is contagious. Soobin grins, and shouts across the water to her.
“You did it Cinnamon! I’m so proud of you!”
Barely audible now, she whinnies again from the other shore, and her relief and joy washes through Soobin.
He shuts his eyes, feeling the moonlight on her mane as she shakes off water, feeling wind and freedom and the palpable thought, I’m going to live.
“Goodbye Cinnamon,” he sighs with a little smile, and disconnects from her energy.
He sways and stumbles in the water, caught by Yeonjun, who was still holding his arm.
“Are you okay?” He takes hold of Soobin’s other arm and peers up into his face.
“No,” he laughs, but the laugh is a choked sob. “I can’t even float a horse and heal her without nearly passing out. It’s ridiculous.”
“Hey, I can’t float a horse at all,” Yeonjun laughs, more concerned than before. “Let’s sit by the fire, come on.”
Soobin barely makes it. The dark of the woods and the orange glow of the fire in their little clearing slide around horribly, when he can keep his eyes open to see it. Yeonjun sits him down by the fire, tucking a blanket around him.
“We have to find our horses,” he mumbles, head snapping to his chest as he struggles to stay awake. “We have to help them, they could be hurt, they-”
“Okay. Okay, We can do it. I’m with you, your hired bodyguard, wherever you want to go. Tomorrow. Not now.”
Soobin nods, or he means to, at least. Shivering all over, his skin aches and crawls as if he has a fever. Nauseous, mouth dry. Pinpricks of hot pain at the base of his skull.
“No, tonight,” he insists feebly. “I’ll take a nap and then we have to go.”
“Okay, alright. Just sit. Here, scoot down and lay against the log. There. I’ll make you some tea,” Yeonjun says, hurrying to their bags for the tea tin before he busies himself by the fire. “You know, I think I saw some Heal-all growing by the water. I’ll be right back.”
Soobin stares into the fire. The darkness slides ugly smears into the red glow, a weird vertigo that nearly brings up his dinner as he clings to consciousness.
A shiver of leaves, a sigh of wind. Odd little tendrils of warmth tingle in his feet, up his calves.
Slow, and then all at once, his awareness is flooded with tree presence, sharp, fleeting, timeless. Not just one tree. Many trees, every tree, ancient oaks, young ash, feral apples.
Little light. We saw what you did to help that horse. We will heal you.
Wind creaks through the trees around them with a sudden gust. He can feel it humming in the ground beneath him, energy and life surging into him, the same way the trees connect to each other.
“ No,” he whimpers. “No, you shouldn’t have to-” a sob bubbles up in his throat.
This isn’t merely a borrowing of excess energy. This is true healing they’re channeling into him through their roots and mycelium. He would never ask for this. Knowing as he does that the leak in his magic cannot be healed, he would never ask for this.
“ It’s too much, and it will all drain away, they- they did something to me, you don’t understand. Don’t, it’s too much-”
Together, we can all spare a little, and give you a lot. You are one of our woods, we will heal you.
He gasps when the energy shoots up into his spine, invisible roots that grip his bones and twinge through every nerve. His head tips back, staring wild up at the sky, rigid and unable to breathe.
And then, the feeling subsides to a warm hum in his body, sturdy and free as the trees that rustle around him. Tears stream down his face, blurring his vision.
Mo sholas, he shudders. Thank you so much. Thank you…
Mo sholas, little light, echoes from a thousand different trees, each one caressing at his energy the way a fond mother would squeeze her child’s cheek.
Too much swelling inside him, gratitude and despair, loneliness so acute as the surrounding presence of the forest leaves him. He curls into himself and sobs like a child.
Yeonjun is there, kneeling in front of him and gripping his shoulders with a fistful of Heal-all, trying to figure out what’s wrong and how to help.
“What is it? What can I do? Do you want-?”
Soobin shakes his head and slumps into Yeonjun’s chest, crying louder. His body shakes with the healing coursing through it, with rage, with helplessness, with anxiety and relief.
“Okay, it’s okay,” Yeonjun murmurs.
The same gentle voice he’d spoken to Cinnamon with. His arms wrap around Soobin, combing his hair back from his forehead and letting him cry. Soft words of comfort. Patience as Soobin purges the darkness from him.
“I wish we could’ve given her more to eat,” is the first thing he manages to say, barely audible and tight as small sobs hem the words in.
“Me too,” Yeonjun sighs, cheek rested on top of Soobin’s head. “I can’t believe… all the shit she went through…but she’ll make it. She will.”
Soobin nods against his chest. “She will,” he agrees.
He sits up, eyeing the wet spots on Yeonjun’s shirt with embarrassment. “Sorry. I… usually, I put up a sort of boundary, when I talk with animals. So we can talk but I won’t… won’t feel what they feel. So I won’t see their thoughts like they’re my own. But she came up on us so suddenly, and I was already tired, so I…”
“It’s okay. Tea?” Yeonjun reaches for the cup he’d prepared for him.
He takes it, grateful for something to do besides sit there under Yeonjun’s worried scrutiny. He blows and sips at it, inhaling the bright scent of crushed lemon balm.
Yeonjun sits beside him and soothes a hand over his shoulders, watching to see if he needs anything else, eager to help.
He’s not sure what changed, but Soobin is beyond glad that Yeonjun’s distant, oppressively polite mood from the day before seems to have been set aside. Just now, he wouldn’t have been able to stand it.
A sip of tea burns down his throat. “Sorry,” he mutters, wiping at the blotch of his tears on Yeonjun’s shirt.
“I don’t mind,” Yeonjun snorts with a little crooked smile. After a few seconds, as if debating whether or not to say it, he adds, “You can make any kind of mess you want on me.”
“ Gods,” Soobin wheezes a laugh and gives him an appalled look, scandalized but mostly relieved.
The flicker of a grin on Yeonjun’s face breaks wide open, giggling and smug once again that he got a reaction out of Soobin.
“Thank you,” Soobin says after a few minutes, staring into his cup. “For- for being upset for Cinnamon too. For… not thinking it’s stupid. That I’m stupid.”
Another sob threatens to claw out of his throat, chin wavering a bit. He refuses to look up.
A hand rakes through his hair, cupping the side of his head. “It’s not stupid. You’re not stupid,” Yeonjun says in a hushed, fierce voice, trying to peer up into Soobin’s face.
It means too much, the sincerity in Yeonjun’s voice. Soobin just nods, trying to hide the fresh tears spilling over his cheeks.
“Come on, let’s go to sleep. Just for a bit, a good nap. And then we’ll go find our horses. Okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees, seeing reason in not stumbling through unfamiliar woods in pitch darkness, even if the healing from the trees has taken away the bone deep exhaustion that had threatened to pull him under.
For now, at least, he thinks, crawling onto their makeshift bed near the fire.
Last night, he had held Yeonjun as they slept. His chest is carved hollow at the realization that he’ll have to go without that, tonight. And the next night, and the next. So utterly lonely.
Why can’t I get used to it. I’ve been lonely since I can remember. I’ve been blessed with a lonely, privileged position. A lonely marriage is all set up for me. There’s no other way it can be for me.
No friends but the trees and horses, and Taehyun, when he has the time. I hope he’s okay, he worries for the hundredth time that day.
Miserable, he curls up on his side and watches the fire blur over with each welling tear. It's like Cinnamon's emotions has flooded out all the dams he built inside himself, unable to stop feeling every pathetic, unreasonable feeling.
After a moment, Yeonjun joins him under the layers of blankets. He braces himself against the lightning bolt of loneliness that strikes him, preparing for Yeonjun to lay near him, to not touch him, to not hold him, to later flirt with him because it’s fun, to stop when he becomes bored with it. To eventually leave.
The thought is so horribly melodramatic that Soobin wants to vomit in embarrassment. Because, to his dismay, it rings so honest. Always bracing himself to be okay with being lonely.
And stupid, stupid Yeonjun shows up, and tempts him with a vision of something so achingly, deliciously other than loneliness, makes him want it so bad, makes him taste it just enough to almost reach for it.
He curls in tighter, angry at his body so eager for any touch from Yeonjun, at the stupid hopefulness that tugs every nerve ending in his skin toward Yeonjun’s electric warmth.
Get over it. Gods, just get over it.
Blankets fixed, Yeonjun goes still beside him. Silence, only pops from the fire and a few crickets. Silence that threatens to slice Soobin open.
Then, rustling beside him. An arm wraps over his waist. Yeonjun pulls himself closer, forehead pressed in between Soobin’s shoulder blades.
Eyes blown wide, lungs full of spun sugar, Soobin lays frozen in disbelief, stupid heart soaring.
He melts. Every molecule in his body basks in the warmth, in the relief, in the hunger being sated.
Maybe he really wants me. Maybe he really… maybe. Maybe he just feels sorry for me.
Before he can think about it, he reaches for Yeonjun’s arm and pulls it tighter around him.