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A "Painter of the Wind" fanfiction

immo

author's note: Went to Korea for a bit and I bought a little fold out screen with a bunch of Hyewon's paintings on it. Hahahha. I realize that I've been writing mostly from Jeong Hyang's point of view, but I think that's fair since there's already an entire show out there that mainly focuses on Shin Yoon Bok cuz she's the main character. What's the name of that show again? I forgot... anyways, don't worry, Yoon Bok will have her time to shine later on. But right now, enjoy!

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Pain overwhelmed her senses as she clutched her broken and bleeding hand, sobbing in frustration. It was no use. Young Bok had taken the fall for her and been banished from Dohwaseo, relegated to preparing colours and painting buildings for the rest of his life. And it was all her fault. All of this was her fault and everybody had tried to protect her! Her teacher, her father, her brother... they all would have taken the fall for her! And for what? Why? Because of her idle hands?

It was better for her to lose her hand than to drag everybody down with her!

Yoon Bok was feeling disoriented, cold sweat pouring down her face. It was better for everyone if she never drew again! She sat there, blinking rapidly up at the moon, then let her head drop to her arm, feeling light-headed.

She wished... she wished it weren't so. She wished foolishly that her mother was there, holding her in her arms like she did when Yoon Bok was a child. She wished for things to make sense again, for things to be fair. But she knew firsthand how unfair life could be, how the people you loved could be taken away from you or hurt, so easily. And the saddest part of all was that she would never ever be able to help them, save them. In fact, she seemed to bring trouble to her loved ones. Young Bok... her adoptive father... even her father and mother seemed to be cursed.

"Hwagong?" The tentative call brought her out of her thoughts. Slowly, Yoon Bok struggled to turn her leaden head, trying to focus on the person who had called her. At the sight of Jeong Hyang, Yoon Bok's tortured heart gave a little leap, recognizing the beautiful geumgi immediately.

"Hwagong." The slight pull of her lips, that beautiful smile... Yoon Bok wanted to stand up to greet her, but the effort sent her slipping to fall bonelessly to the earth. Within seconds, though, the night sky was filled with Jeong Hyang's white face.

"Hwagong!" Yoon Bok wanted to answer, but her lips felt dry and her vocal chords wouldn't respond to her commands. She wanted to reassure the gayageum player as Jeong Hyang called her name with a tremulous voice and tried to get a response out of her. Yoon Bok's heart clenched with pain at the sight of Jeong Hyang's panicked expression.

'Is she worried about me?' Yoon Bok thought deliriously, taking advantage of their position, the painter boldly swept her eyes slowly from Jeong Hyang's chin to her forehead. Greedily taking in those perfect features, her red lips, her finely arched nose, her soulful eyes and elegeant brows. Yoon Bok's head swam, overwhelmed with how close Jeong Hyang was to her, wondering if she was really unconscious in a ditch somewhere, having a wonderful dream.

"Jeong Hyang," Yoon Bok slurred, speaking to the apparition, for she was convinced the gayageum must be one, "You are beautiful as always."

Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, Yoon Bok gave up her fight to stay awake and let unconsciousness mercifully take her.

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It had taken just a few coins to get a passing man to gather up the young painter and take him to Jeong Hyang's room. The geumgi had seen the man out, hurried to get a basin of water, a washcloth and bandages; then rushed back to Yoon Bok's side. She quickly cleaned and bandaged the painter's hand as best as she could, then made herself busy trying to cool the young man's face. Through his fevered dreams, Jeong Hyang sat there listening to the painter call out for her brother, felt that deep ache in her chest at seeing the state the painter was in.

Of course, Jeong Hyang had heard about the going-ons at Dohwaseo, a lot of the patrons of this gibang were from there and they talked freely when they drank. Jeong Hyang had to confess that she had actively sought out the gossip out of her deep worry for the young painter. Guiltily, she recalled her huge sense of relief when she heard that the painter's brother had taken the blame and confessed to drawing the paintings.

'Why did I think he would have been happy if his brother had taken the fall instead of him?' Jeong Hyang watched the young man's troubled sleep. How had Yoon Bok managed to surprise her? Perhaps, the geumgi thought, the type of men she was used to made her paint them all with the same brush. She didn't know that there were men OR women out there who wouldn't place themselves before others. The gibang housed too many backstabbers and ambitious snakes and entertained mostly foolish and/or powerful men who wouldn't think twice of stepping on someone's livelihood to make a few more nyangs.

Jeong Hyang's thoughts were interrupted by the door to her room sliding open, then closing behind her maid.

"Where is the pharmacist?" Jeong Hyang asked when she saw no other person with Mak-nyeon. Jeong Hyang was trying to keep the tone of her voice calm, but knew that she was failing.

The frown on her maid's face made her heart sink and the answer filled Jeong Hyang with disappointment.

"He doesn't want to come to the gibang."

"Have you tried other pharmacies?"

"Yes, I went to all of them."

Feeling completely helpless, frustrated with those 'good' men who refused to help those in the gibang, Jeong Hyang turned back to Yoon Bok to place the cool, moist cloth back on the painter's hot forehead. The fevered mumblings of the painter and his grasping hands made it so hard to fight back the tears, but Jeong Hyang did her best, not wanting her maid to see how deep her feelings for the painter had run.

"No, no... please..." Yoon Bok's pleas was breaking Jeong Hyang's heart. To give him a little bit of peace, the geumgi reached out and gently held Yoon Bok's bandaged hand. She didn't know how long she sat there, tending to the painter. Mak-nyeon had gone to sleep, but Jeong Hyang had stayed awake, afraid that if she left Yoon Bok's side he would need her and she wouldn't be around for him.

During the night and through Jeong Hyang's attentive care, Yoon Bok's fever broke and his whimpering cries stopped as he dropped into a deeper sleep. Still, the gayageum player forced herself to stay awake and watchful, only allowing herself to relax a little.

Just as the sky was turning pink, Yoon Bok stirring from his sleep, the soft groan of pain from his lips, woke Jeong Hyang up.

'I fell asleep.' Jeong Hyang leaned forward, worried, hoping that the painter's condition hadn't worsened.

"Jeong Hyang." His voice was rough and gravelly, but it sent a thrill of joy down Jeong Hyang's spine. He was alright!

"Hwagong, why did you do this to yourself?" Jeong Hyang cut straight to the chase. Through his mutterings, the geumgi had surmised that the grevious wound to his hand had been self-afflicted. And even though she had a pretty clear idea of the why, she wanted to hear it from him. Suddenly she was angry, almost furious with the young man for doing this to himself. Furious, but relieved and happy that he seemed better than when she had first found him though his face was drawn in an expression of pain.

After a short pause, Yoon Bok shrugged, her face expressionless. "I don't want to paint anymore."

Jeong Hyang put on a teasing smile, wanting the young man to smile, knowing the turmoil he must be in having heard some of his innermost thoughts during the night. "But painter, what if you change your mind in the future?"

"I won't." He said simply, his hollowed expression drew a few tears from Jeong Hyang's eyes and the young man immediately struggled up to a sitting position, taking one of the geumgi's hands in his good hand.

"Don't cry, please don't cry." He pleaded and gave her a toothy smile. "Like this, see? You look so beautiful when you're smiling, Jeong Hyang."

The words poured out and Jeong Hyang did smile and managed a laugh at Yoon Bok's foolish expression. The geumgi grew serious and took Yoon Bok's injured hand, cradling it gently as if it were a wounded bird.

"Does it hurt?"

Yoon Bok smiled gently at her, his words soothing. "No, it's just a scratch."

The ridiculousness of that lie, coupled with the angry bruising colours of his swollen hand made the two of them laugh quietly. But very soon, Yoon Bok's laughter and smile died.

"My brother. He told them he drew the paintings. And they," Yoon Bok's voice broke here and he coughed to try to hide it. "They had him expelled from Dohwaseo. He'll... he'll never paint again. I told them it was me, I would rather never draw again then have any harm come to my brother. He looks after me, you know? He's... he's always there. He cares for me. They didn't believe me and they punished him for something I did..."

"It'll be alright--"

"How?" Yoon Bok asked hopelessly. "How will it be alright for my brother?"

Jeong Hyang didn't know how to answer, instead looked down at their entwined hands.

"I'm sorry." Yoon Bok's voice made Jeong Hyang look up at the young man again. His honest face made her stomach flutter. "This isn't your problem. And you shouldn't worry yourself over it. I should go--"

"No, please," Jeong Hyang gripped his hand tighter. "Please. You don't have to. And you should rest here for a little bit."

The gayageum player again adopted a teasing smile. "The last time you were here, you didn't even stay for breakfast, Hwagong. Is it that unpleasant to be in my presence?"

"Your presence is MOST welcome." The flush on his boyish cheeks was adorable. "I just don't want to bother you."

"You're no bother." It was time for Jeong Hyang to blush. How had they gone from the coolness and anger of their first meeting in the clothes shop, to now? Both of them blushing as if they were still children.

Finally seeming to realize his hand was still holding tightly on to hers, he quickly withdrew his hand, the loss of the pleasant warmth of his skin was felt acutely by the geumgi.

"I'll go to the kitchen and see if I can get you some breakfast, Hwagong." Jeong Hyang nodded slightly, retreating behind a polite facade and he nodded, doing the same. The intensity of the moment before left them both uncomfortably aware of whatever it was in between them. It wasn't unpleasant, it was just... too much. Too fast.

"Thank you." His voice trailed after her as she left the room. Turning to give him another smile, she carefully closed the door behind her. Breathing out a breath of air she didn't know she had been holding in, she rested her head against the door for a few seconds, gathering her thoughts. She knew what she had to do. With an air of determination about her, she hurried to the kitchen. As soon as she got food for him, she would head over to Dohwaseo with Mak-nyeon.

---

They watched her. Their eyes traveling the length of her body. Jeong Hyang kept her eyes studiously forward and low, watching the ground and not meeting any of the men's eyes.

Jeong Hyang usually kept mostly to herself, avoiding most everybody's company when she didn't have to entertain guests and now she purposely threw herself into a situation that brought all eyes on her. She needed to see Yoon Bok's teacher and none of these men held her interest at all, yet they clambered after her eagerly, curious as to why a woman--a kisaeng--had arrived at this place seeking the eccentric Danwon. She kept Yoon Bok's image clear in her mind's eye, seeing him clumsily using his left hand to pick at the food she had brought, just to appease Jeong Hyang even though the geumgi could tell that the young painter had no appetite. Saw the brave front Yoon Bok had put on to reassure her even though Jeong Hyang could see how swollen and red Yoon Bok's right hand was. And she kept him clear in her mind, blocking out all outside sounds, ignoring the apprentice artists that watched her with unblinking eyes and unkind comments.

When Danwon did come, she heard a flurry of movement from the young men watching her and his rough voice extolling his curiosity and his scorn for her.

But she didn't care, even as Mak-nyeon winced at his tone of voice, deep and baritone. Their audience scurried away at the older man's not so gentle dismissal of them. His heavy steps brought him closer to her until he was right in front of her. Only then did Jeong Hyang bow low, hoping that this gruff man would be able to help her Hwagong.

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endnote: As always, comments, criticism and whatever else you wanna throw at me are welcome! Well... some things aren't, but whatever! :D Thanks to all of you who sent me a msg or a review, by the way. It helps to know there are still people reading this and its much appreciated :D