The memory flooded in to his brain, in bits and pieces, sharper in the center and fuzzy along the edges as he tries to remember the lesson, eyes closed and ears open to the forest and running water around him. It was a good place to train, right outside of Kirkwall, a little clearing that not many would second a glance at if they happened to water far enough off the main road to find. His arms moved slowly, as if through water, the control of the movement more important than the repetition. The katas were rote in his mind, his muscles knew them like his lungs knew breathing, but it was clearing the mind enough to feel the wind, the life around him. The natural, collective breath that every living thing around him took. Yoonjie could hear them yet.
"You're still not focusing."
No, he really wasn't. Not at the moment, not when he was going to be sent over into Tevinter to gather some Intel, to check the place out and see if it would be worth setting up any sort of alliance, or just running goods in and out of the place. He had too much on his mind, too much to do. He needed to pack, needed to have his rapiers sharpened. Probably take his nicer clothes to the cleaning lady to be washed and mended so he could slide into the different social rungs. He'd need to do a lot of things, he realized as he swept a leg around. In combat, the move would be lightning fast, quick enough to knock someone off their feet, knock them prone so that a killing blow, or even a blow meant to knock someone out could be delivered, but during practice, during meditation, slow, fluid movements. This wasn't about the fight.
"It's about control."
Yoon tried to push everything from his mind, to lose himself in his practice, in the life happening around him. His lack of focus could cost him dearly in a fight, would leave him open to attack, to being taken by surprise. So when he heard the twig break, a few paces behind him, they hadn't exactly tried to cover their approach, it had taken him a half second too long to pull the rapier, to bring it up to neck level, the blunt edge of the blade leading. He didn't kill. He wasn't her, but recognition served to knock the wind from him, breath catching in his lungs so hard, that they ached for release.
Yoon froze, suddenly a little boy again, with a wooden sword, staring at the one person he wanted validation from more than anyone else in the world.
Bajie stood there, stunned. The boy before him, no longer a boy but a young man, was the son he had lost so many years ago. Emotions he had buried long ago surged to the surface: regret, anger, and a glimmer of hope. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. This was not the time to fall apart. He had to be strong, for both of them.
Yoonjie, he said, his voice rougher than he intended. It’s uh been a long time.
He stepped closer, his eyes scanning Yoonjie’s face, noting the changes time had wrought and the features that hadn’t changed at all. His son was a spitting image of his younger self, and yet, he could see the strength and determination in his eyes that he himself had lacked at that age.
I never thought I’d see you again lad, Bajie admitted, his voice softer now, filled with a mix of sorrow and pride. Life has a funny way of bringing people back together.
He paused, struggling to find the right words. How do you apologize for years of absence? How do you explain the choices and mistakes that led to this moment?
Yoon's jaw clenched, struggling with the want, no, need to run to his father, to feel the man's arms close around him, to be told that he was loved, wanted. All things he had dreamed of for so many years, before and after they slept for the ages. How many times had he dreamed of this moment, of finding his father, of being able to yell, to scream, that he deserved just as much love and recognition as that precious gladiator of his. The quiet fight happening in him, and his colder side won in that moment, lowering the sword and turning to slide it back into it's sheath, his hands finding his shirt and pulling it back on. Didn't know when you'd make it over to this part of the world. Last I checked you were in Antiva with the woman.
He drug a hand down his face as he shook out the practice fatigue, tossing his long braid back over his shoulder and out of the way. He hadn't cut his hair, not after Haulean had gone through all that trouble of washing it nicely and braiding it back, the younger man the only family that Yoon would recognize for now. They gonna house you near by? It was small talk, he didn't want to be so cold, so clinical like this. Haulean would be fussing at him so badly if he knew how cold he was being to family, to real blood family. But that didn't erase all the years he felt like second best to someone that wasn't even blood. Second best to an elf that, for all intents and purposes, had become Bajie's wife and child in one.
He and his mom had meant nothing compared to that woman. And he hated her for it, a deep, unabating loathing that would never be sated, never satisfied, until he killed her. He had realized that a long time ago. The only way for him to gain true satisfaction in all this, was to kill the older elf. Or die trying. Kirkwall has a good blacksmith, you probably have blades that need seeing to, or a forge to borrow, right?
Bajie watched his son with a mixture of pride, regret, and hope. The years apart had carved deep lines of pain and misunderstanding between them, but seeing Yoon standing there, the embodiment of strength and determination, brought a swell of emotion to his heart.
He took a deep breath, knowing that their reunion would be far from simple. The coldness in Yoon’s voice cut deep, but Bajie understood it was a shield, one he had helped forge through his absence. He nodded, acknowledging Yoon’s words and the unspoken emotions beneath them.
I didn’t expect to find you here either, Yoon, Bajie began, his voice steady but warm. Antiva was a different chapter, a necessary one, but I’ve always been searching for you, no matter where I was.
He took a step closer, hoping to bridge the distance between them. I’ve been given quarters nearby, yes. But that’s only temporary while I’m in town. He’d been tasked to teach elves in Arlathan, but he needed to see his son first.
Bajie paused, watching the internal battle raging within his son. He wanted to reach out, to offer the comfort and reassurance Yoon had longed for, but he knew it had to be on Yoon’s terms.
Kirkwall’s blacksmiths are renowned, and I do have blades that need tending, he continued, carefully choosing his words. But I came here for more than just maintaining my weapons. I came here to reconnect with you, to make up for lost time if you’ll let me.
He took another step forward, his gaze steady and earnest. I know I haven’t been the father you needed. I know I’ve made mistakes, and for that, I’m deeply sorry. But I want to change that, Yoon. I want to be here for you now, in any way you’ll allow.
Yoonjie tugged his tunic back down over his head, dark eyes finally regarding his father as his hands worked at tucking the shirt in -- he channeled ice. He was ice. He would not rage at his father. It wasn't worth it at this point. He had chosen the Woman over him, over his mom. He didn't owe his father anything. But when a step was taken close, he took one back, his eyes flicking to his sword and then back to Bajie.
He didn't want to fight, but he didn't want the man any closer to him. Not yet, maybe not ever. There's a dwarven woman, outside of town. Take your blades to her. She's better than the fools in town. He eased some as another step wasn't taken. He couldn't do it yet. It was taking every bit of him not to scream at the older man. To ask him why he wasn't good enough, why he had chosen the woman over him. He wanted answers, so badly. Everything he had tried to forget, everything he had tried to block away was bubbling back up, and he...
Just.
Couldn't.
And then when that next step was taken, Yoon grabbed his sword and put the space back between them. No.
It was simple, and forcefully spoken, jaw flexing with effort, fingers curling and un-curling from the hilt of his sword, over and over. And something in him just broke. Haven't be.. You weren't a father at all. I had a mother, and an absent male who was too busy with his hobby, gaining fame, notoriety because of a woman, and then you traded it all for her. Me, mom, you were gone, because of her.
He was shaking with it, the emotion that was eating at his insides, simmering for so long, finally given way to explosive rage. You traded us for her. And Don't try and deny that she's not here with you, I already know. Was she really worth losing me and mom over? Has she taken the place of a son and wife? You happy with her?
Bajie’s heart ached with every word, the raw pain and betrayal in Yoon’s voice cutting deeper than any blade ever could. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. I won’t deny I regret not having been there, Yoon, he began, voice heavy with regret. It wasn’t an easy life in Andruil’s fighting rings, even for those blessed with winning her favour. When Flea lost favour, I couldn’t see her tossed back down to being just a slave, it was my fault I didn’t train her well enough. I’m not saying this to excuse what I did, because if I had to do it over again, I would help Flea escape just the same.
He thought to himself how Yoon’s mother hadn’t been able to handle the idea of being knocked back down to slave either, how she’d left him in the hopes of insulating herself and Yoon from the repercussions of Bajie’s actions. He could probably mention what a shrew she could be, but he wasn’t about to down talk her to their son. Despite his occasionally questionable morals, even he had limits.
I understand why you hate me, and I can't change the past, Bajie continued, his voice breaking slightly. But I want you to know, I never stopped thinking about you. I want to make amends, if you'll let me.
What Bajie couldn't know was that his ex-wife had spent every time she could disparaging the boy's father to him. So much of the rage and anger that was left over in the man, was her doing. And only time would change that in him, in them both. Because as things stood at the moment, there was nothing that could be done to repair the damage that Yoonjie's mother had done to father and son's relationship. And at the heart of the matter, Yoon was a momma's boy. Tried and true. She had been the parent that had been there, even if she hadn't really been, even if she really hadn't been a parent in the first place. He had been her replacement emotional and physical support, therapist, protector, and ear.
He didn't get a childhood -- he had stepped into being the replacement man as soon as he was old enough to understand that was what had been expected of him. But, Bajie's words made him pause. Even knowing the consequences, knowing the repercussions, he would have done it again? Yoon's jaw flexed, cheeks hollowing out as he physically chewed those words over in his brain, the uncomfortable silence stretching out as he tried, really tried, to imagine the circumstances, to give the benefit of the doubt.
He couldn't.
Guess you still like her the best. He muttered as he picked up his sword belt and worked on strapping it back to his hips, setting the blades on either side of his body, and pulling the belt tight. He needed to finish and get out of there, before he was pushed to the point that he would choose violence. Because he would, eventually. He didn't know how to not choose violence when it came right down to it. He finished strapping on his gear and yanked on his boots, angrily.
He closed the space between him and his father, getting right up in the older man's face, using the extra inches in height to try and be imposing, threatening. You can't just decide when you want and don't want me around, you chose her over me. You can't just decide later down the line you messed up and wanna try and make it right, you made a choice. And you said you'd make it again, what kind of amends can you truly wanna make if you would make the same choice again?
Bajie watched as Yoonjie tightened his sword belt and strapped on his gear with a mixture of frustration and sadness. He could see the storm of emotions raging in his son's eyes, and it pained him to know that so much of it was a direct result of his past decisions and the venom his ex-wife had dripped into Yoonjie's ears over the years. The boy—no, the young man—standing before him was a testament to years of manipulation and misplaced loyalty, a young man who had been forced to grow up too soon, taking on burdens no child should ever bear.
Bajie understood the anger; he had felt it himself once, but for different reasons. He knew Yoonjie couldn't yet see the full picture, couldn't understand the complexities that had driven Bajie to make the choices he had. He had tried to protect Yoonjie from the worst of it, but in doing so, he had unintentionally driven a wedge between them, one that seemed impossible to bridge now.
Bajie braced himself as Yoonjie stepped closer, using his height to loom over him, attempting to intimidate. It was a tactic Bajie had seen before, but it hurt more coming from his own flesh and blood.
Yoonjie, he began, his voice soft but firm, I know you're angry. And you have every right to be. I did make a choice, and it was a hard one. But you need to understand, I didn't choose her over you. I chose what I thought was the lesser of two evils. I had two choices once Flea was defeated in the ring and soured in the eyes of Andruil. I could keep living it up as one of Andruil’s favoured fighters, while Flea, whom I trained and who trusted me to look out for them was thrown back down and treated like dirt, or I could help Flea escape. Perhaps I’d been a bit cocky, thinking I could pull one over on Andruil, but once I was caught my path was clear. Your mother couldn’t handle life back down at the bottom, and it wasn’t the life I wanted for you, so we separated.
The more Yoonjie listened to his father, the more rage boiled up inside him, so many years of anger coming to a head all at once, every single bit of hatred of Flea, of his own mother, of Andruil.. anyone who had taken his father from him. The things he had endured and lived through, because of a single lost fight. Ripples, dominos falling after once single incident. He should have felt bad that he had beat Flea to a bloody pulp, just a few hours ago. The older woman had stood there, hadn't even fought back, the only time she had moved was to turn away blows from his fists that would have been fatal.
He was a horrible person.
But as his breath hitched and he felt the tears along his lower lashes, he couldn't hold the flood of emotions back anymore, You could have taken me with you, instead of leaving me there with her. With her..
Ahh, there it was. The abandonment that his mother had played into so many times, how she had dug in just a little bit deeper "He didn't want you." How she had never missed a chance to try and drive home to the very depths of his soul, just how unwanted a child Yoonjie had been. Why did you leave me with her? Knowing how she was? You had to have known, didn't you? What sort of person she was? How could you just leave me with her..
Tears now fell in earnest from his lashes, running down his cheeks, his fists clenched tightly as he tried not to let the anger at himself for showing emotion lash out at yet someone else.
Bajie took a deep breath, steadying himself. Despite the raw pain in Yoonjie’s words and the deep ache it brought him, he knew he’d made the best choice he could at the time. He’d always believed his decisions, flawed as they were, had been the only way to shield Yoonjie from an even darker life in the pits.
He spoke quietly but firmly, eyes fixed on his son’s face, catching every flicker of hurt and anger. Yoon, believe me, there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret the cost of that decision. But... He hesitated, knowing he was about to lay a truth bare between them. If I hadn’t left you behind, you would’ve been pulled into the worst of it. She... Your mother wasn’t a saint. But she kept you out of the fighting pits. She kept you from that life. I had to believe you’d be safer without me. I didn’t abandon you. I protected you. The best way I knew how.
Bajie saw the flicker of disbelief, the frustration twisting Yoonjie’s face, but he held his ground. His own voice tightened, the weight of his own hurt mingling with his son’s, but his resolve never wavered.
I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be, but I’d do it again if it meant you wouldn’t end up down in those pits, at Andruil’s mercy, like I did. I hate that it hurt you—more than you could know. But at least this pain... it doesn’t control you, doesn’t own you. The pits would have.
For a moment, Bajie’s voice softened, almost pleading. I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t enough, or that I chose anyone else over you. In my mind, I chose you by keeping you out of that world. I thought I was protecting you.
He shook his head slightly, almost to himself, frustrated by his own inability to truly reach Yoonjie, to make him see the painful choice he’d made for him. He longed to tell Yoonjie all the things a father should, all the love and pride he’d carried silently in his heart. But he kept it simple.
So hate me if you need to. But know that everything I did, I did to keep you safe—even if it meant you had to grow up hating me.
With the rage started to seep away some, Yoon was finally able to hear some of the words his father was saying... that he hadn't meant to make him feel like he wasn't enough, that he left him because he wasn't good enough for him, it was relief, he realized, that flooded through him, but the pain was too familiar to just let go that easily. He would need time to come to terms with the fact that neither of them would be able to see fully the other's side in this, but it was a start, a hesitant, messy start that might bring them home to one another once again.
He would never be able to see his father's point about the Pits having owned him, because in Yoon's mind, he would have been with his father, and not the mother that took every opportunity to remind him of how unwanted and unloved he was. But, Yoon could see the irony in the whole thing too, even as those angry tears finally welled up over the edge of his lashes and fell freely, his voice cracking as he tried to keep it steady, but coming out more a broken sob than words, I never hated you, all I wanted was for you to love me as much as it seemed you loved her. It was small, but it was a step towards something.
His shoulders hunched, he shook his head, no it had never been hate, it had always been the longing to be loved, and that's what hurt the most about the whole thing -- it had always been longing to be loved as much as he himself loved in return.
Bajie’s heart shattered as he saw Yoonjie’s tears, the broken sobs tearing at his very soul. All the years of separation, all the misunderstandings, the regrets, and mistakes—they all boiled down to this moment. And now, standing there, seeing his son’s pain laid bare, Bajie realized that no amount of explanations or justifications would ever truly make up for what had been lost between them.
For a long moment, Bajie stood in silence, letting Yoonjie's words sink in. He knew that no apology could fix the hurt, but maybe... just maybe, it was time to stop trying to explain the past and simply be there for his son now. Words wouldn’t heal this, but love and time might.
Yoon... Bajie’s voice was soft, but it carried the weight of years of regret and love. I’ve always loved you. Always. I’m sorry if you ever doubted that. I should’ve told you—should’ve shown you—more often. But you need to know, you’ve always been the most important thing in my life, even when I didn’t know how to show it.
He hesitated, taking a step forward, his hand hovering in the air between them. He didn’t dare touch Yoonjie, not without permission, not yet. But the offer was there—open and vulnerable.
I can’t fix the past. But I’m here now. I’m standing right in front of you, and I’m not going anywhere. Not this time. No more excuses, no more running. Just you and me, if you’ll let me try to be the father I should’ve been all along.
