The Red Caravan [2]
Jul. 18th, 2011 11:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
poppy_skyPairings: YunJae
Rating: PG-13 for now
Warnings: boyxboy, no historical/geographic setting, AU.
Summary: It's Spring time in the capital and everybody rejoices when the Red Caravan and its performers arrive, signaling the start of festival season, however, Prince Yunho is also in town, returning after three years battling in the Holy Land. What happens when the Red Caravan's most famous peformer, Kim Jaejoong, and Prince Yunho meet?
A/N: Second chapter is out. These chapters are mostly background so updates will slow down a bit after this. Anyways, enjoy!
Yunho stood watching the main square of the city from the King’s studio. The room was exquisitely decorated from ceiling to floor, with plush sofas, elegant furniture and intricate wallpaper on the walls, but Yunho was not interested in what was inside but on the outside. From that height he could see the grand expanse of the square that was now littered with wooden structures, multicolored stands and people either building the structures, making food or practicing their acts.
Looking at the biggest structure just in front of the imposing cathedral, he spotted the man Heechul almost got into a fight with. With his bright blond hair he was hard to miss and Yunho watched as said man helped two men lift a large wooden beam to hand it over to the people working on what seemed to be the roof of a big stage. The beam fell off before it could be set into place almost crushing the blond man and the other two men under its weight. They got out of the way quickly, the beam only missing them by a hair’s breath; however the blond laughed and went to grab the beam again.
Yunho shook his head and released the breath he did not know he was holding. Those pagan gypsies were so careless, he thought.
The doors to the studio were opened suddenly and a loud voice announced the arrival of the King. When the King appeared through the doors, the Queen a couple steps behind him and followed by four guards, Yunho bowed and waited for the king to get closer before kissing his hand.
“Good morning, Father,” he greeted after he straightened out.
He bowed to his mother and kissed her cheek.
“Good Morning, Mother.”
“It’s great to have you back, my dear son,” the King said while patting Yunho’s shoulder and walking towards the table set with tea and several plates filled with succulent food and pastries. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to welcome you back. How was the Holy Land?”
“Destroyed. With barely any supplies being sent I dare to wonder what will happen first: all the armies dying from hunger and sickness or the city being destroyed beyond any value,” Yunho said, following after the King and taking a seat across from him just after the Queen sat next to her husband, her beautiful headdress jingling as she moved. A maid approached the table to pour tea in their cups and they drank heartily from the hot drink.
“I heard you did not return unscathed yourself,” the Queen said. The worry in her voice spoke volumes of her love for her eldest son.
With Yunho’s sister already married off to the prince of the neighboring country to the West, the Queen’s thoughts centered on her son and the safety of the heir to the throne.
“It doesn’t matter, it had toughened him up,” the King responded. He turned to Yunho this time. “I say you’re fit to stay now and learn how to rule.”
“As you wish, Father.” Yunho fought to keep the bitter tone out of his voice. He had hated the war in the Holy Land and sometimes he wished he had died just to spite his father who had always treated him as a foolish child.
“I already have your first chore as part of the royal family, actually.”
Yunho was taken aback by the king’s words. So soon? He had just returned from the war, there was so much to get used to after so long. It was to be expected though, he thought. The King never gave him a minute’s rest, always keeping him on his toes.
“I want you to go down to the festival as my representative,” the King declared.
The young prince choked on his tea. Coughing through a mouthful of liquid he tried to normalize his breathing and avoid spilling the hot brew on his clothes. Go down and mingle with the peasants and shameless pagans; was his father going senile already?
“Would that be proper?” the Queen asked incredulous. “Royalty walking amongst those God-less people…”
“The boy will do as I say. These are dangerous times. The food shortage is making the peasants desperate, even the merchants are having an unlucky year. There are rumors of riots being cooked in secret.”
The King stopped to take a sip from his cup.
“It is hoped that having a member of the royal family enjoying the festival like any other person will raise the empathy of the people towards the ruling family thus putting out the fire building under our seats.”
Yunho frowned, looking towards the window. Barely anything could be seen from his sitting position but he still got a good look at part of the square and the peasants littered around the wooden structures of the stages. Yunho then turned to his father.
“I think you should just get rid of the festival altogether, Father, and put those pagans on stakes. They already have no respect for the holy figures and in a short time they will be having their performances in front of the palace gates too!”
“The festival is a necessary annoyance, Yunho. We have taken their food to send it to our troops in the East. We cannot take away their enjoyment too,” the King explained.
“Just do as your Father says, Yunho,” his mother pleaded gently.
“I will, Mother,” Yunho said and stood up. His tea cup sat on the low table, barely touched. “Please excuse me.”
In a few long strides Yunho left the room, a page closing the door softly behind him.
Rating: PG-13 for now
Warnings: boyxboy, no historical/geographic setting, AU.
Summary: It's Spring time in the capital and everybody rejoices when the Red Caravan and its performers arrive, signaling the start of festival season, however, Prince Yunho is also in town, returning after three years battling in the Holy Land. What happens when the Red Caravan's most famous peformer, Kim Jaejoong, and Prince Yunho meet?
A/N: Second chapter is out. These chapters are mostly background so updates will slow down a bit after this. Anyways, enjoy!
A week had gone by and the people of the capital were starting to see the progress made on the Red Caravan’s stage had visibly increased with the stage on the last steps of construction before it was completed. The main structure was up as were the posts for the oil-lamps that would be hung there later. A big wooden tower holding a big lamp with different colored glass as lenses was set a few good feet from the stage, behind where the crowd of spectators would be. Clothes, wigs and other props were still stowed away behind the stage until they were needed.
High-class aristocrats wrinkled their noses in distaste as they made their way around the unfinished stage to get to the cathedral for Sunday mass, holding their veils and somber clothing close to their bodies in fear it would but merely brush against the structure. The Festival was just a big party for peasants and lower merchants after all, and everything relating to it was below them and a general nuisance.
Other groups of performers had arrived through the week and were setting up their own stages while several stalls of food and drinks were already being set between the multiple entertainment spots. People were arguing with each other over space to sell their goods in the crowded main square with elbows bumping and a couple of harsh-worded debates over centimeters between stalls that would sometimes end up with fist-fights before an agreement could be reached, sometimes hurried along by the menacing glares of several royal guards sent there to set some order in the overall reigning chaos.
A long line of women went from the back of the Red Caravan and all the way around it, accumulating around the square rapidly. Girls too young to marry as well as women well into their adult years were all fretting and worrying. Some hoped they would not be caught slacking off from their labors, others counted the round silver coins in their cloth pouches sewn into their skirts while others giggled at the few knights strolling past who pretty much ignored them and their mindless squealing.
The air coming from inside the thick canvas draped around the Red Caravan was thick with the smell of spices and warm sweetness. The girls would approach the opening in the back and would hand their coins over, getting a small vial in return. The vials, which were quickly pocketed from fear of getting them confiscated by church officials, held a dark blue liquid inside that sloshed against the crystal wall of the container as woman after woman hurried home to sweep the floors or finish making bread.
Just before a young woman already past marrying age but still young enough not to be a lost cause could buy her love potion the tall sorcerer came out from the protection of the curtain-like canvas of the caravan and showed them the empty cauldron as he wiped his sweaty brow.
“Business is closed for the day, please come again tomorrow,” he hollered making the women whine and pout, however, he could not see their tantrums as he was already back inside the dark caravan.
“At last they’re gone,” Jaejoong whined from the mountain of cushions pilled inside the caravan while scratching the ears of the grey cat sitting on top of his chest. “Changmin-ah, why did you have to become a sorcerer?”
Changmin threw the cooked herbs that accumulated at the bottom of his cauldron outside before turning to the whining man with a glare. “What are you even doing here? You should be setting the stage with the others, and Jaejoong, what have I told you about picking up stray cats?”
Jaejoong grinned and held the protesting cat tightly against his chest. “This is not a stray cat, it’s Jiji! He’s been with us for two weeks already, didn’t you notice?”
Changmin sighed. How could he not notice when the creature was shedding its winter coat all over his precious herbs and books?
“And you know how awful it is going outside for me. All people around here do is stare and whisper. I had the old lady at the flower shop throw holy water at me earlier, can you imagine?!” Jaejoong continued.
“Yah! I don’t care. Go be useful!” Changmin exclaimed while putting his cauldron away.
The air inside the caravan was stuffy with the smoke clinging to the inside of it so, taking a peek outside so check that in fact all the women had left, Changmin opened the curtain-like cloth hanging on the back and held it in place with a pair of claw-shaped, brass hooks. A blond blur passed next to him and he turned in time to watch Jaejoong jump down from the caravan, the many necklaces he was wearing that day jingling as he landed. He started to walk away leaving Changmin to stare at him puzzled.
“Where are you going?” hollered Changmin after Jaejoong’s retreating form.
“To help with the stage!” Jaejoong hollered back and waved at him before walking out of sight.
Changmin let out an annoyed sigh. He leisurely sat down on the bench-like border of the caravan, letting the cool air hit his sweat-dampened skin. He watched the people on the plaza working on their own stands, the warm sun bathing every surface in the wide open space.
A crunching noise brought him back from his daydream. He turned around and saw Jaejoong’s cat playing with his herbs. Cursing and pledging to turn that cat into soup he scrambled up in rescue of his herbs.
“Get away from my herbs you fur-covered demon!”
High-class aristocrats wrinkled their noses in distaste as they made their way around the unfinished stage to get to the cathedral for Sunday mass, holding their veils and somber clothing close to their bodies in fear it would but merely brush against the structure. The Festival was just a big party for peasants and lower merchants after all, and everything relating to it was below them and a general nuisance.
Other groups of performers had arrived through the week and were setting up their own stages while several stalls of food and drinks were already being set between the multiple entertainment spots. People were arguing with each other over space to sell their goods in the crowded main square with elbows bumping and a couple of harsh-worded debates over centimeters between stalls that would sometimes end up with fist-fights before an agreement could be reached, sometimes hurried along by the menacing glares of several royal guards sent there to set some order in the overall reigning chaos.
A long line of women went from the back of the Red Caravan and all the way around it, accumulating around the square rapidly. Girls too young to marry as well as women well into their adult years were all fretting and worrying. Some hoped they would not be caught slacking off from their labors, others counted the round silver coins in their cloth pouches sewn into their skirts while others giggled at the few knights strolling past who pretty much ignored them and their mindless squealing.
The air coming from inside the thick canvas draped around the Red Caravan was thick with the smell of spices and warm sweetness. The girls would approach the opening in the back and would hand their coins over, getting a small vial in return. The vials, which were quickly pocketed from fear of getting them confiscated by church officials, held a dark blue liquid inside that sloshed against the crystal wall of the container as woman after woman hurried home to sweep the floors or finish making bread.
Just before a young woman already past marrying age but still young enough not to be a lost cause could buy her love potion the tall sorcerer came out from the protection of the curtain-like canvas of the caravan and showed them the empty cauldron as he wiped his sweaty brow.
“Business is closed for the day, please come again tomorrow,” he hollered making the women whine and pout, however, he could not see their tantrums as he was already back inside the dark caravan.
“At last they’re gone,” Jaejoong whined from the mountain of cushions pilled inside the caravan while scratching the ears of the grey cat sitting on top of his chest. “Changmin-ah, why did you have to become a sorcerer?”
Changmin threw the cooked herbs that accumulated at the bottom of his cauldron outside before turning to the whining man with a glare. “What are you even doing here? You should be setting the stage with the others, and Jaejoong, what have I told you about picking up stray cats?”
Jaejoong grinned and held the protesting cat tightly against his chest. “This is not a stray cat, it’s Jiji! He’s been with us for two weeks already, didn’t you notice?”
Changmin sighed. How could he not notice when the creature was shedding its winter coat all over his precious herbs and books?
“And you know how awful it is going outside for me. All people around here do is stare and whisper. I had the old lady at the flower shop throw holy water at me earlier, can you imagine?!” Jaejoong continued.
“Yah! I don’t care. Go be useful!” Changmin exclaimed while putting his cauldron away.
The air inside the caravan was stuffy with the smoke clinging to the inside of it so, taking a peek outside so check that in fact all the women had left, Changmin opened the curtain-like cloth hanging on the back and held it in place with a pair of claw-shaped, brass hooks. A blond blur passed next to him and he turned in time to watch Jaejoong jump down from the caravan, the many necklaces he was wearing that day jingling as he landed. He started to walk away leaving Changmin to stare at him puzzled.
“Where are you going?” hollered Changmin after Jaejoong’s retreating form.
“To help with the stage!” Jaejoong hollered back and waved at him before walking out of sight.
Changmin let out an annoyed sigh. He leisurely sat down on the bench-like border of the caravan, letting the cool air hit his sweat-dampened skin. He watched the people on the plaza working on their own stands, the warm sun bathing every surface in the wide open space.
A crunching noise brought him back from his daydream. He turned around and saw Jaejoong’s cat playing with his herbs. Cursing and pledging to turn that cat into soup he scrambled up in rescue of his herbs.
“Get away from my herbs you fur-covered demon!”
♥ ♥ ♥
Yunho stood watching the main square of the city from the King’s studio. The room was exquisitely decorated from ceiling to floor, with plush sofas, elegant furniture and intricate wallpaper on the walls, but Yunho was not interested in what was inside but on the outside. From that height he could see the grand expanse of the square that was now littered with wooden structures, multicolored stands and people either building the structures, making food or practicing their acts.
Looking at the biggest structure just in front of the imposing cathedral, he spotted the man Heechul almost got into a fight with. With his bright blond hair he was hard to miss and Yunho watched as said man helped two men lift a large wooden beam to hand it over to the people working on what seemed to be the roof of a big stage. The beam fell off before it could be set into place almost crushing the blond man and the other two men under its weight. They got out of the way quickly, the beam only missing them by a hair’s breath; however the blond laughed and went to grab the beam again.
Yunho shook his head and released the breath he did not know he was holding. Those pagan gypsies were so careless, he thought.
The doors to the studio were opened suddenly and a loud voice announced the arrival of the King. When the King appeared through the doors, the Queen a couple steps behind him and followed by four guards, Yunho bowed and waited for the king to get closer before kissing his hand.
“Good morning, Father,” he greeted after he straightened out.
He bowed to his mother and kissed her cheek.
“Good Morning, Mother.”
“It’s great to have you back, my dear son,” the King said while patting Yunho’s shoulder and walking towards the table set with tea and several plates filled with succulent food and pastries. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to welcome you back. How was the Holy Land?”
“Destroyed. With barely any supplies being sent I dare to wonder what will happen first: all the armies dying from hunger and sickness or the city being destroyed beyond any value,” Yunho said, following after the King and taking a seat across from him just after the Queen sat next to her husband, her beautiful headdress jingling as she moved. A maid approached the table to pour tea in their cups and they drank heartily from the hot drink.
“I heard you did not return unscathed yourself,” the Queen said. The worry in her voice spoke volumes of her love for her eldest son.
With Yunho’s sister already married off to the prince of the neighboring country to the West, the Queen’s thoughts centered on her son and the safety of the heir to the throne.
“It doesn’t matter, it had toughened him up,” the King responded. He turned to Yunho this time. “I say you’re fit to stay now and learn how to rule.”
“As you wish, Father.” Yunho fought to keep the bitter tone out of his voice. He had hated the war in the Holy Land and sometimes he wished he had died just to spite his father who had always treated him as a foolish child.
“I already have your first chore as part of the royal family, actually.”
Yunho was taken aback by the king’s words. So soon? He had just returned from the war, there was so much to get used to after so long. It was to be expected though, he thought. The King never gave him a minute’s rest, always keeping him on his toes.
“I want you to go down to the festival as my representative,” the King declared.
The young prince choked on his tea. Coughing through a mouthful of liquid he tried to normalize his breathing and avoid spilling the hot brew on his clothes. Go down and mingle with the peasants and shameless pagans; was his father going senile already?
“Would that be proper?” the Queen asked incredulous. “Royalty walking amongst those God-less people…”
“The boy will do as I say. These are dangerous times. The food shortage is making the peasants desperate, even the merchants are having an unlucky year. There are rumors of riots being cooked in secret.”
The King stopped to take a sip from his cup.
“It is hoped that having a member of the royal family enjoying the festival like any other person will raise the empathy of the people towards the ruling family thus putting out the fire building under our seats.”
Yunho frowned, looking towards the window. Barely anything could be seen from his sitting position but he still got a good look at part of the square and the peasants littered around the wooden structures of the stages. Yunho then turned to his father.
“I think you should just get rid of the festival altogether, Father, and put those pagans on stakes. They already have no respect for the holy figures and in a short time they will be having their performances in front of the palace gates too!”
“The festival is a necessary annoyance, Yunho. We have taken their food to send it to our troops in the East. We cannot take away their enjoyment too,” the King explained.
“Just do as your Father says, Yunho,” his mother pleaded gently.
“I will, Mother,” Yunho said and stood up. His tea cup sat on the low table, barely touched. “Please excuse me.”
In a few long strides Yunho left the room, a page closing the door softly behind him.
