The crown was heavy on ChangKyun’s head, digging into his scalp as if it was made of thorns. The fur cape on his shoulders - a sign of his power of the North - uncomfortable and almost rank. The throne too large and too cold, yet he had to keep his face stiff and not show any of it a single bit. The war had thrown whole world upside down and his kingdom was sadly in the middle of all of it, both inducing fear in others and gaining enemies with it’s power, that now was in ChangKyun’s hands. A power no man should have alone.

His father fell in the North, the deceiving snow covered swamp lands being his resting place, his body never recovered like hundreds, no, thousands of others. All lost in the Great Northern War that lasted for over a year and a half. Since the North troops return and ChangKyun’s coronation exactly 7 months had passed. 7 months since he was officially a king and the crow on his head, the cape on his shoulders and royal seal on his chest pulled him down into despairful darkness.

The land with no king leading it had gone rouge - robbers and murders feasting on the poor common folks, landlords and earls maliciously using their power. It took months to fight the crime and corruption blooming in the king’s absence, the control over new Northern regions with still alive resistance forces not making it any easier. ChangKyun didn’t have enough experience, he didn’t have enough strength or help. The generals, as suspected, were not spared by the enemy and ChangKyun himself had barely escaped the battlefield alive, a large scar on his right shoulder and a smaller over his right cheek showing where the enemies sword almost chopped him in half.

Minhyuk was still by his side, limping from an arrow that went through his knee, his smile erased with dirt and blood of his fellow warriors and enemies alike. ChangKyun couldn’t even remember the last time he genuinely smiled in the past to years. He remembers pain - both physical and emotional, ripping him in half through fever while his wounds were healing and tears while the only thing left from his father was his broken sword in ChangKyun’s hands. The last time he smiled was more than two years ago in the bailey, when he saw Hoseok for the last time.

The war in the East was still in full strength, the final enemy city - a stronghold with high walls and unlimited supplies - was still holding on. All news took weeks to arrive and were short and vague - no names mentioned, just count of survivors. Too naively for a king of a growing nation ChangKyun hoped that the promise that was made was stronger than God’s plans. He was kept sane by the thought of Hoseok returning, not giving up until the war in the East was over. Not until he himself made his way to the sun burned deserts and saw the battlefields, not until he could hold Hoseok’s sword in his hands like he did with his father’s - not until that very moment would he lose hope.

The news of the last stronghold falling and survivors returning stirred the castle. Rumors spread of generals still being alive, others that only their armors were making their way back. The restlessness was heavy in the air and ChangKyun could feel Minhyuk’s anxious excitement growing by second. “I know he is alive. I know it,” he would murmur silently and ChangKyun wished he would have the same conviction.

“They have arrived,” comes an announcement and the royal hall stirs, ChangKyun himself restless in the throne. He hears heavy boots clanging against the floors, armour plates clinking against each other. He is on the edge of his seat, his hands holding onto the armrests of the throne so tightly his knuckles have turned white. He is holding breath and looking at the door, fearing to move. He regains his breath only when the first two men walk in.

Hyunwoo has his left eye covered with an eye patch, the lacking arms pieces on his armour showing scars on his arms. The coat of arms on the armour has lost almost all of his color, the griffin practically gone from it. His cape is torn, the moss green looking more brown, but Shownu himself hasn’t lost a single bit of his strong presence. From the corner of his eyes ChangKyun sees Minhyuk almost literally shaking, tears pouring over his cheeks with no restrain, a smile finally back on his lips. And ChangKyun wishes he could allow himself to cry as freely as Minhyuk is doing it now as the man next to Shownu is no one else but Hoseok.

His top armour isn’t the one he left the castle with, the royal seal nowhere on it. It seems roughed up and and worn down, with scrapes and dents, but somehow it still looks admirable on Hoseok. His cape is gone as well, and from his equipment only his sword is in place. ChangKyun can’t tell if he has been injured or not and he desperately scans the knight, whose eyes are looking only at ChangKyun, making it near impossible to stay seated.

Both men kneel, their soldiers doing the same, showing respect to their ruler. “The East lands have subdued to your strength. The final city of Constantinople has fallen and now is under your wise control. You now are the ruler of North and East, my king,” Hoseok speaks, looking up to meet ChangKyun’s eyes as he says the last two words. ChangKyun’s heartstrings finally break and he has to, he simply has to touch his knight to know he is actually here.

He stands up and motions the men to stand up as well. For a second he locks his eyes with Minhyuk’s pleading ones and nods once. It’s all that Minhyuk needs as he staggers over the to shocked Hyunwoo as fast as he can, the larger man welcoming him into his embrace without hesitation, quietly asking of what has happened. Meanwhile ChangKyun holds back from running. He holds back from crying. He holds back because of his people watching. But he can’t keep it all in.

He walks to Hoseok and places his hand on the knights nape, resting their foreheads together, pushing back the urge to kiss him senseless right there and then. “Is this your interpretation of not making me wait for too long?” ChangKyun asks quietly, his voice almost cracking.

“Forgive me, my king,” comes the most simple response, those two gorgeously brown eyes looking straight in ChangKyun’s and nothing has ever been harder than holding back his arms, his lips, his whole self from embracing his knight. “I wish I could have returned sooner,” he ads and ChangKyun bites his lower lip, his vision getting blurry. Hoseok’s hand reassuringly squeezes his shoulder and the young king lets out a shaky breath. He couldn’t let his emotions to take control now, especially when they hadn’t moved from their place for too long.

“Let us feast!” he pulls away finally, “Let us celebrate the heroes that brought us victory and new lands in East,” he speaks loudly, the high ceiling on the room resonating his words. His eyes travel the cheering hall before returning to Hoseok’s face. Finally his heart could beat again, his lungs savor air and his eyes see the light - other half of his heart, his air, his sun had returned safely.

The whole time of the rich feast ChangKyun barely can sit still. He silently admires how carelessly Minhyuk let’s all his pent up emotions out, being glued to Hyunwoo’s side and looking at the larger male eating as if it’s the most beautiful thing on earth, even though Hyunwoo’s table manners were quite barbaric. He could see the joy, the love, the relief playing in Minhyuk’s eyes, reflecting in his smile and yet ChangKyun still was trapped in social norms.

His eyes linger on Hoseok sitting next to him and he keeps himself calm for the longest time. The dented and almost completely ruined armour is off Hoseok’s body, the simple white shirt falling over his broad shoulders and chest perfectly. He looks like royalty. He has always looked above his ranks, his origins and that was what enchanted ChangKyun. That and many other things and neither of them helps him to remain calm. His patience finally snaps around the time when the feast is nearing midnight. He encourages his people to continue the celebration, while he himself leaves the table. He locks eyes with Hoseok for a short moment and prays that his soundless plead is understood.

Like two years ago, he paces around his room as it seems for hours. His cape is drawing him closer to the ground, the royal seal on his chest as if burning him, the crown digging into his skin, near ripping his head to pieces. He can’t wait no longer. His whole body is about to burst when there is a knock on the door and the man he waited and needed so desperately finally walks in.

ChangKyun inhales, a shiver running through his body. “Bolt the door,” he instructs in half whisper and barely drags his feet over the stone floor to the man at the door. He feels like he will collapse any second, his look probably giving it away as the concern on Hoseok’s face is evident. The knight meets him in the middle of the room and Changkyun barely can hear his own voice when he speaks.

“Take it off,” he whispers. “Take it all off me, please,” he pleads looking straight into Hoseok’s eyes. “Please. I can’t take it any longer,” Changkyun breathes out and Hoseok hesitates for a second before his fingers undo the heavy silver shoulder brooches of the cape and moves the fur to the side. He undoes the straps on the light armour ChangKyun is wearing, the metal hitting the floor with a loud noise, each piece hitting the stones. Lastly, he hesitates again before he takes the crown off ChangKyun’s head and the latter finally breathes in freely.

The young king let’s his body to fall forward, his forehead meeting Hoseok’s shoulder, an arm instantly around him. “Are you alright, my king?” the knight asks with concern as he places the crown on the cape so that his other hand could hold ChangKyun even closer.

The latter shakes his head, his arms finally wrapping around Hoseok’s middle, hiding as deep in his embrace as he possible can. He inhales the scent that even now seems so familiar, he lets his fingers to skim under the loose shirt and feel the skin, the warmth he called home. Changkyun no longer holds back the tears he had been swallowing since his knight, his Hoseok returned and lets them soak into the knight's shirt. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t return.” he whispers and the embrace around him tightens.

“I promised I would return if you would as well. I do apologize it took so long,” Hoseok speaks softly, his hand gently petting ChangKyun’s head. “I couldn’t be reckless if I wanted to keep the promise,” he adds and the young king nods, understanding it all. He is not upset, he is not angry, he is not throwing a tantrum fit because things didn’t happen as fast as he would have wanted. He is happy, he is blessed, but he is also tired and drained.

“It was so hard… it is so hard....” he speaks slowly and quietly, letting his worries to melt away in their shared body heat. “I am not ready to be a king. Even after being one for more than half a year, I am not ready,” he admits and finally looks up. Hoseok’s warm, hilt roughed hands cup his cheeks gently, his thumbs wiping the remains of tears away and Changkyun places his hands on top of the knights, keeping them in place. “I can’t do it alone,” he says with a hidden plead and finally, after this long wait, Hoseok’s lips tenderly presses against his in a long anticipated kiss. It’s short and sweet, slightly timid as all of the one’s the knight initiates but Changkyun couldn’t imagine anything more meaningful right now.

“You are not alone, my king,” Hoseok speaks against ChangKyun’s lips. “Even if the whole world crumbles, even if empires fall apart - I will be by your side,” he rests their foreheads together, their eyes looking directly into each other’s souls. “I am yours. I have always been yours with all I have and I will always be yours. Take my words, take my strength, take my body, take my heart, take my soul - it all belongs to you.” the knight speaks passionately and it feels like an eternity since the last moment ChangKyun had felt this alive.

“Then can I claim what’s mine once again tonight?” Changkyun asks and receives a nodd in return. Their lips meet again, their bodies falling into familiar rhythm, their hands traveling well known routes on each other’s skin, memorizing each new scar that has appeared. Changkyun feels a large, uneven line on Hoseok’s stomach - from his left side almost across his whole lower torso - so this is how close to losing him it had come. He doesn’t want to think about that now, when Hoseok is so close to him again, when their bodies melt together and Hoseok’s sinful lips moan out Changkyun’s name.

He knows that the raven-hair has noticed the as impressive and as dangerous scar on his shoulder, his lips placing endless kisses on the healed skin. He knows Hoseok feels the same fear and relief to hold Changkyun now, knowing how their lives could have ended in seconds. Fate was on their side. They were meant to be right here and right now - in each other’s embrace, their voices bouncing around the cold walls and dancing with long shadows thrown by the flickering candles.

Changkyun’s eyes are foggy, clouded with love and ecstasy. His ears are ringing, nothing more but Hoseok’s voice existing in the world. His body is burning, pleasure he had almost forgotten washing over him. Two glossy, chestnut brown eyes meet his - the same emotion engraved in them. The young king’s eyes focus on the lewd face with those glossy eyes, sweaty bangs stuck to the knight’s forehead, his full lips parted in moans and gaps - he looks as if he has never seen war. Hoseok was the one who looked like a prince - so beautiful even horrors of war didn’t dare to leave mark on those features. ChangKyun was silently glad it was his face that beared the scar the remainder of the past they couldn’t erase or forget.

“Changkyun,” Hoseok speaks, his voice raspy. His hand rests on Changkyun’s right cheek, lovingly caressing the same scar Changkyun had thought about and only then the young king realizes he had stopped moving. He wants to apologize, but the hand from his cheek goes to his nape and pulls him down for a kiss. “I’m here. Don’t think about all that,” the knight says softly and Changkyun nods once, capturing the addicting lips once again.

They don’t say a single word more, if not half gasped each other’s names and half moaned “I love you”s. The night was still young, dawn no near the horizon, and the morning didn’t bring parting nor did it bring war. It was a new beginning - the most beautiful beginning Changkyun could have wished for, with his knight in his arms.