cleanse (1/2)

taemin sat with eunsook on the benches reserved for the guards’ pleasure slaves. there were not many among the ranks of enough status to own one outright & they found themselves in a rather small though distinguished crowd. it was a warm day, the summer sun burning unobstructed by clouds & its heat diluted only by the softest breeze. taemin’s tunic sat low on his chest, near to his navel. he was uncertain how he was to be dressed in public when so much of his time was spent behind closed doors: even on the grounds of minho’s estate he was afforded some semblance of privacy. it was eunsook who explained that he should look his most enticing when presented as minho’s slave: he needed to show what a fine possession his master held. she helped him with his appearance, lining his eyes & adjusting his garments, dressing him in the sheerest trousers & blouse that could still be respectably worn in a crowd.

her own aqua dress was sleeveless & cut low revealing soft breasts, tight around a slim waist & full hips, her legs highlighted by an indiscrete slit up one thigh. her hair hung smooth down her back & a golden bracelet wound about her upper arm.

they had been watching for nearly an hour as warrior after warrior battled it out in a dirt pit surrounded by seats filled with citizens & nobility alike. various regimens had fought amongst themselves to achieve victory that they then struggled against a foreign opponent to maintain. they were meaningless matches, meant to be easy entertainment until the real show began.

the minute minho stepped into the pit the crowd lost all pretense of calm. taemin watched in awe as a wave of people stood & applauded, calling out cheers & encouragement for the reigning defender. he felt an odd mixture of bewilderment, anger, & pride at the sight: to know that he was owned by such a powerful man was oddly thrilling.

minho wore a leather vest & pants, a sword in his hand. his hair was pulled back in the smallest of tails, little curls falling around the crown of his head. unlike some of the previous fighters, he made no elaborate show of strength, simply raised his hands in acknowledgment of the crowd, turning to face them all. he paused when his eyes met taemin’s, narrowing slightly, & then he took his stance. the first three contestants were quickly laid to waste, lucky that this was not a battle to the death. minjung was the first to last more than thirty seconds in the ring, bearing herself in a way that surprised taemin: he’d only seen her as soft & it hadn’t occurred to him that minho would not have entrusted his care to any but the best of his warriors.

their dance was incredible to watch, their bodies moving as though they were born with blades attached at their wrists. taemin was well enough with a blade, a skill he had learned as a youth, but the way minho & minjung carried theirs was almost reverential. there was something intimate & spiritual in the way they fought that superseded his early emotions & replaced them with unabashed awe. it was a disappointment when minjung took a misstep & was taken to the ground by minho. he smiled as he helped her up & she nodded with a grimace, clearly upset but not ungracious in her defeat. the crowd applauded loudly as she left the pit. the sound died immediately as the next opponent entered.

gwiboon’s appearance was the same in every way as all the other warriors but her stance, her poise, her very being was so intrinsically unique that there was no comparison: her leather uniform fit her in a way that made it seem impossible that anything else ever touched her skin. even the grace with which minjung had fought would look amateurish & clunky by comparison. she was, in a word, flawless.

especially as a warrior. taemin watched with amazement as his master battled with his first in a match that seemed equal parts brutal & elegant. the turns of their hips & the steps of their feet, the way their shoulders moved, a seamless weaving of dance & combat. time passed slowly & the crowd watched enraptured as the greatest warriors in the land proved their merit of such titles. taemin was leaning forward, his fingers gripping the underside of his seat & his breath came in shorter & shorter bursts. he had never seen anything like it in his life.

in the end it was minho who was victorious, though it almost seemed a stroke of luck rather than a display of skill. gwiboon’s sword had caught on minho’s garment & he had used the momentum to knock her to the ground, holding her there by a foot to her throat. she too appeared displeased at her loss though unlike minjung she was not particularly gracious about it, punching minho on the shoulder as she rose & garnering laughter & applause from the crowds. if it had been any other there may have been repercussion both publicly & privately. but minho just laughed & ruffled her hair, irritating her further.

eunsook touched a hand to taemin’s leg as the crowds begin to disperse.

“we wait until the others are gone to take our leave. we leave with them.”, she said, nodding her head at gwiboon & minho. the soldiers stood in the pit talking, the dwindling crowds forgotten. gwiboon patted minho on the shoulder & then turned her attention to eunsook, smiling & beckoning her to come.

“i will see you tomorrow, perhaps.” eunsook said as she stood. “or perhaps the day after.” she smiled lasciviously & left taemin alone, happily accepting the arm her mistress offered. he watched them go & then turned back to find minho watching him, still standing in the pit with his sword. they were alone now & taemin found himself breathless again, not sure whether he should stand or stay. moments passed & no indication was given for either so he decided to move & he stood & began making his way to the aisle, down the stairs, & onto the dirt.

he stood before his master in the sunlight, watching as fine trickles of sweat poured from his brow & little tufts of hair laying damp against his skin. he fought the urge to tuck them away, an urge that startled him.

“you watched?”

“yes, my lord.”

“everything.?”

“every match, my lord.”

“where did i fail?”

“i...what?” the lack of formal address went unnoticed by taemin, so startled by the question that he forgot himself.

“where did i fail?”, minho asked again, his tone neutral.

“within the matches?”, taemin replied, uneasy.

“yes.”

“i...”