“Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.” 
― Arthur Miller, The Ride Down Mt. Morgan

Jeon Jungkook knew his place. He was no one, an accessory at best. He barely shone when he was attached to the hip to Park Jimin, heir and shining diamond to the Hanyang faction. Jimin’s lineage clearly outranked Jungkook’s heritage easily - Jungkook was the foster son of Jimin’s father’s right hand man and served at his beck and call, no matter how egalitarian Jimin tried to make it sound.

His father was a common man knighted after saving Lord Jung Yunho’s life in battle and had remained loyal to the man until his timely death in battle, and leaving his beautiful wife alone in a darkened, gloomy tower covered in lurking shadows and ghosts of what could’ve been.

Jungkook was born in the middle of a storm, warmly wrapped in thick, wool blankets and coated in his mother’s and own blood. Lord Jung took him in as his own and riding on his mounted stallion, leaving behind his own soldier’s wife to be buried in a strewn field of daisies and lavenders.

“His father was loyal to me and like a brother - I will take his son as my own and you will treat him as such.” The commanding and dominant voice echoed through the concrete walls, and no one dared to disobey the lord, even as his blue blood wife defiantly looked away and held her head up high.

…

    A sunset before his third birthday, Lady Jung abruptly leaves the castle of white stone, crawling roses and sprawling vines taking all of her material wealth and no family ties behind - leaving her own daughter and memories of her husband as if they meant nothing to her.

Lord Jung knows that it was worthless for him to weep now; he had a daughter and now a son to take care of - the war had just settled down and their future was still uncertain. The Jung estate was no longer the same as it was at its prime, before the vulgar touch of war, violence and bloodshed had stained its walls, and its vault was no longer worth the same as it was in its glory days.

A pigeon comes in, with its grey feathers and a piece of thick parchment between its pointed beak, marked with the golden stamp from the King himself. “Lord Jung, I invite you to serve as my steward and welcome you into King’s Landing with open arms.”

He makes haste and wastes no time. In less than three days, Lord Jung takes his children with him and his servants in carriages and mounted them on horseback to ride down towards the capital and the heart of the kingdom.

Jungkook becomes at least someone in the kingdom. For now.

…

    Jungkook, with his bright, curious eyes, waddles on his feet and claws on the muscled calf of his stepfather, and hides between the cold metal of his armour, earning an amused chuckle from the king.

“You have a shy little one I see, Yunho-” King Yoochun looks down affectionately, the stubble of hair growing underneath his chin.

“Your Majesty, please refer me as Lord Jung-” Lord Jung bows his head, respectfully correcting the King on the use of informal language.

“You’ve become so formal and uptight back in the Reach, Lord Jung! I just wanted to welcome you as my Steward to the Seven Kingdoms and make you feel at home.”

Lord Jung walks out of the Palace Room with a sigh of relief, with Jungkook cradled in his arms with his petite arms wrapped around his lithe neck and pressed a kiss on the crown of his head, fearing of the game he and his family will need to play to survive the game in the capital city.

He doesn’t ignore Lord Kim, the Hand of the King’s upturned corners of his mouth, a smile that didn’t meet his eyes while eyeing his young son like a hawk; he knows secrets he doesn’t want others to know and trusts no one. Not even the past can provide him the same amount of trust now. Now that the Hand belonged to the Haeyang faction, his own enemy.

...

Jungkook grows up in the East wing of the royal palace, where the Hanyang.faction resided and prided the newly found balance of power now that the right hand men of the King were from each of the factions. The Hanyang faction bled crimson red, from their faction flag to the clothing they wore and their property - they made it clear who owned that side of the palace. 

Park Jimin, dressed in the finest clothing and always with a servant by his side to assist to his every need, a few years older greets him with the brightest smile, confusing Jungkook as if he has seen the sun. Jungkook looks plain and rough compared to the Hanyang heir, and wouldn't be surprised if the older boy would've just ignored him. 

    “I have a new playmate now!” Jimin envelopes the stunned Jungkook in a tight, gripping embrace, nearly knocking him out of his feet before the servants worry about Jimin’s condition more than his own.

Jungkook’s face lights up, feeling himself break into giggles with the heir for the first time in a long time with someone that wasn’t his father. Even at his young age, he never felt like there was truly someone in there who he could trust than his father. His own sister- stepsister, treated him coldly and never treated him like a brother, only acknowledging his existence at her father’s insistence and politely at best.

He found a home in his longtime friendship with Jimin, like his own flesh and blood, even though the two were related in no other way but fealty and pledge of allegiance, but to him they were family.

...

Song: "Dream" by Imagine Dragons

Author's Note: Just a quick preview from Jungkook's background! Will release the second half of the prologue about Yerim's upbringing and childhood as well. Please subscribe and leave a comment. Means the world to me! <3 xoxo