Royal: War II
Royal
A/N:
Hi~ Long time no see, huh? Sorry about that. I tink I mentioned befoe that the boarding academy I go to is suuuppper strict, and that if you get a C (as a grade) or below you're kicked out, right? Well we had a ton of testing happening and I took a break from writing to put all my concentration on the tests and studying. I'll tell you what I told my ex, my grades witll ALWAYS come first. But, now that the tests are done for however long, I hope to get back inot a normal writing scheduel. Fingers crossed! See you at the end of the chapter!
Oh and, don't kill me.
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Previously on Royal:
“I'm going away. But-but only for a little while!” Jungkook speedily finishes his sentence when he sees Taehyung open his mouth to interject, “Where are you going to?” Taehyung asks quietly, and Jungkook sighs looking away. “To war.”
-
“-Do, Not. Take. Off. That. Mask. Your life can and will depend on it.” His mother says as they walk briskly down the corridors and towards the awaiting carriage. “Yes mother,” Jungkook says looking at his mother oddly.
-
Battle Grounds,
Prisoner's tent.
“What's the point in surrendering everything now to be spared from death, when I am already dying?” Jeon rasps out, throat dry and scratchy from dehydration and not being used for days. The king makes a 'tsk' sound, as he paces around Jeon and the tent. “Don't tell me you forgot to wear your mask, Jeon.”
“Don't play dumb. We both know you ordered your men to sabotage my mask in hopes of killing me in case you failed in capturing me. But even though I am dying and imprisoned, you must know you won't win this battle, because despite what you think, I have faith that my son will succeed.” Jeon says confidently as he watches the King smiling smugly at him.
-
“Psst, Kook,”
“Mmm?” Jungkook turns towards his cousin, curious as to what the older boy needed.
“Who's that?” He whispers, pointing towards Yoongi, his loose white shirt hanging low as he leans over the table to point at the map, exposing his creamy white chest and the abs hidden underneath. Jimin his lips, and Jungkook rolled his eyes. “His name's Min Yoongi, and I wouldn't bother. He's shot down every man and woman that's approached him. Apparently, they aren't good enough or whatever.” He says shrugging and Jimin nods, a little sad.
Just then Yoongi looks up, eyes meeting Jimin's and a chill runs down the younger's spine. His eyes roam up and down Jimin's body, before he looks back up at Jimin, smirking. “Yoongi, what about this...” Someone says, and the general's eyes are drawn back to the map.
… . he's so beautiful. Jimin thinks as he sits down on a couch, heart pounding fast as he sneaks a peek at the man once again. And so out of my league, he thinks bitterly as he lays down on the couch, waiting for Jungkook to finish with the strategic planning and talk with him.
“Prince Jungkook,” Someone calls, causing everyone in the room to turn and look at him. “It's about your father,”
-
Jungkook finally made it to the enemies side, and standing before him was someone he thought he'd never see again. The king was not who expected. In fact, the king wasn't even a man. There, standing before him was a young woman, around his age with a crown on her head, a sword in hand, and a sickeningly sweet smile on her face.
“L-Lisa?” Jungkook croaks out, as he looks at her in shock. She should be dead.. They told me she'd died. What is this-
“Hello, Brother dearest. It's been a while, hasn't it?”
><><><><><
“LOWER THE GATES! LOWER THE GATES!” A guard yelled as he and the queen supervised the courtyard. The queen sighed, she really hated this. Being trapped inside the walls completely, with all these ignorant fools. “I really wish Namjoon was here,” She sighs, rubbing her temples as the gate slammed down onto the ground, sealing them all inside. “He was so helpful. But alas, he is living the life of a king... with his other king... They're both kings... Th- um-the two kings.. I just- yeah.” She shakes her head, walking back into the castle.
She walks down the long corridors, and she passes some of the family's paintings. There is one of Jimin, he nephew, and surprisingly there is one of Jin. “I bet Namjoon placed this here, the lovesick idiot.” She chuckles as she walks down the corridor until she reaches the current royal family, walking down the long train of paintings of the family, she looks at each one with an odd sense of fondness.
A painting of herself and her husband were there, along with a baby Jungkook in her arms, big, brown eyes sparkling that sparkle that only children have. She almost smiles, almost. She continues to the next paintings, which are solely of Jungkook, showing the progression of the pince from birth till he eventually dies. The next picture is a toddler Jungkook featuring her arm, that he insisted on hanging off of. A little chunky monkey he was.
Smiling as she remembers how the old days were, she continues to look at the progression of her son. She used to play hide and seek with Jungkook, but just leave, making the small boy look around for hours but to no avail. She was such a . She still is. Laughing at herself, she walks down to the last painting on the wall. This is the most recent picture of Jungkook, painted just days before he left for the war.
The war. I wonder how it is. I wonder how HE is... Dammit, now's not the time to worry about him. You were never that kind of mother. You were never-
I wonder if he's eating enough... That's it. Quarantine rules be damned, I'm sending him some food...
Nodding to herself, she turns on her heels and marches down to the kitchens, heart set on sending her son a care package. Her heels announce her arrival long before she really gets there, so when she does, everyone is looking at the doorway expectantly. Instantly the servants all bow and curtsy, showing respect to the woman.
“I am looking for the baker.” She says, and one boy raises his hand. His soft brown hair was unkempt and he wiped flour on his cheek as he rubbed it. “That'd be me, Taehyung,” He calls, and she marches over to him.
“Do you know what Jungkook likes?” She asks and the boy's face flushes as he inwardly smirks (More then you know, Taehyung thinks). “Yes,” He answers instead, and she nods. “I need you to make him a care package with all his favorites in it. Then I shall choose someone to ride out and deliver it to him.”
Taehyung nods, instantly beginning to get the ingredients.
She walks back to her room and sits at her stationary desk. The desk was big and made of dark oak wood, polished so it shines in the light from the window. She dips her quill into the ink, and writes a quick note to her son;
Dear Jungkook,
I have sent you a basket full of your favorites in hopes it may brighten your day. I pray for your safety and that you may win this war.
-Mother
><><><><><><><
Taehyung had been slaving over the ovens all day making desserts of all kinds; tarts, brownies, cookies, cakes, pastries, etc. He then made savory treats too. Lastly, he made a cupcake and piped a little message on the top of it in the frosting. Smiling, he dusted his hands off as he carefully placed each item in the basket, arranging them perfectly so they looked nice. Then, he carried the basket out with care.
“Ah! You're finished. Lovely.” The queen says as Taehyung approaches her in the study. “Now all that's left is to find someone to deliver it to him...” She begins thinking and Taehyung's eyes widen. This is a sign. It has to be.
“I'll go-” he says before he can stop himself. The queen looks at him with wide eyes that sparkled, open in a smile. It was little terrifying, honestly. She claps her hands loudly and Taehyung flinched, startled. “Wonderful! I'm sure you know the risks and all... Well, what are you waiting for? If you leave now, you may very well make it there before nightfall!” She says as she ushers him out.
“Oh! I almost forgot,” She says as she rushes back to her table, before running back over holding a small piece of parchment. “This is for the basket. Now, off you go. Philip! You know what to do,” She says and shuts the door to the study behind Taehyung. Shocked, he stares at the door oblivious to the man beside him until it was too late. Philip practically jumped him and dragged him off towards the stables. “You're very brave to be leaving the castle right now.” He mutters, so quiet that Taehyung almost missed it.
Taehyung was placed onto a horse, the basket secured to the side of the horse. “Um, Philip-” The butler smacked the horses back end, and it sped off in the direction of the gate. “May God be with you in these horrid times!” Philip calls after him. Taehyung was barely out of the gates before it slammed back down with a loud bang, startling him.
“Why was the gate closed, to begin with?”
–
“I know you're all wondering why the gates were closed,” Jin yells over the nervous chatter of the court, all eyes turning to their king. “And the truth is, the plague is here. The black plague has arrived,” Namjoon gives Jin a comforting squeeze of the hand as the two kings stand there, watching the court erupt into chaos as the horrific news settles in.
“It'll be okay, right Joonie?” Jin whispers to him, keeping his head straightforward as he watches his subjects panic all around them. Namjoon glances at him from the corner of his eyes but doesn't look at him either.
“Of course it will, love.” He says and Jin's shoulders relax a little from the help of his husband's reassuring words. But if Namjoon was being honest, he didn't know (which was a rare thing, seeing as Kim Namjoon always knew everything. His IQ was 140, in case you hadn't known).
It would be alright...
Right?
><><><><><><><><
The woods were scary during the day, but even scarier during the night, Taehyung muses as he pulls the flimsy cardigan around his shoulders, shivering in the cold evening air. The start of fall, I suppose he absently thinks as an owl lets out a cry from somewhere in the distance. The loud cry startles him, causing him to accidentally kick the horse's side.
“, , , , !” Taehyung yells as he scrambles on the horses back to grasp the reins he had left to the side while they were walking calmly. But they were not walking calmly anymore, no siree, they were flying down the road, Taehyung's hair flying into his eyes, mouth, everywhere, and you most definitely shouldn't let the horse roam freely. Nope. You need to be in control. You need to hold those reigns because even if they didn't help direct the horse in the right way, it's really the only thing that keeps you from flying off the back of your trusty steed.
By the time he finally got hold of the reigns, a little over twelve seconds, the horse had already taken off to the side and into the woods, and not onto the clear, clean, totally normal dirt road they had been on. Taehyung looks around himself and finds they are very much lost. Every direction looks the same as the other; dark, tree-sey (Yes, Taehyung knows that's not a real word, but it should be.), and filled with ominous, creepy white mist coming off of the damp ground. Or maybe it was steam. It could possibly be fog, Taehyung didn't know for sure, all he knows is it's white, moist, and very unpleasant. It's like a veil, covering up the monstrosities hiding beneath it, and Taehyung certainly didn't want to stay and find out what those were. Deciding wondering helplessly in the woods would be better than staying put there in the open where any sort of monster could come out and snatch them away for peasant and horse soup, they begin to slowly go forwards.
- - - -
Taehyung isn't sure how long they've been wandering, hours, days, weeks possibly, it all blurred together (In reality it's only been around two hours,), but he's grown tired and his stomach wont shut up, complaining about food, or rather, the lack of. He's grouchy, and he's sure to snap any second now and just eat the food meant for the little prince. He finally breaks when they come upon a tree they've become fairly acquainted with, Taehyung's handkerchief tied around it to signify they've been there before.
“Are you kidding me? How could you do this to me, to us, Buttercup?! We've seen this nasty rotting tree a thousand times now!” He cries out to the horse, who says nothing in return, simply blowing a breath out it's nose, a big puff of hot condensation filling the air. “Don't you talk back to me, you ungrateful little- hold on, what's that?” He squints, seeing something that he had not seen before. A light, there, in the distance. And above it, smoke, from a chimney.
A house. Civilization. Taehyung had found a house. He had found hope.
><><><><><><
“Sir,” Someone salutes him as they walk past, Jungkook nodding in response. He didn't know what to do now that he's found out it was his long lost sister, Lisa, who was behind all this. After Jungkook made it to the enemies' lines, Lisa had left in a hurry.
“Long time, no see, right brother?” She smiles at him, and it makes Jungkook's heart hurt. It hurt because that was the smile of his twin sister. His best friend, his only friend. The smile of the one person he thought he could trust, besides Namjoon. They played together, always getting in trouble together, always protecting each other. But then she died. His family had told him so. He had been to her funeral, seen her body lowered into the ground in the coffin. Saw them cover it with dirt, saw his mother place the white lilies on top. He had seen it all, and yet here she was, standing before him. Her black crown placed beautifully on top her delicate hair, and Jungkook isn't surprised. Wearing your crown to war is something you only do when you know you will win, and that you are not at risk. You wear your crown with confidence that it will not be taken, will not be broken, etc during the harsh battles.
Lisa was always more confident then he was. She would always talk back to Mother and Father, would always break the rules, defy everything they were told to do. She was the real brains of it all, and Jungkook was the little accomplice there for the ride. He was always their parent's favorite because he always listened. Always did what they were told, would always pick up the mess he and his sister made.
He was the practical one while his sister was the wild one. The fun one. The dead one. (“See Jungkook? This is why it is best to listen to us, to do as you're told. To be reasonable. Your sister, she didn't listen. She didn't do as she was told, instead of doing crazy and wild things. She was 'having fun', living her life as she wanted it to be. But doing all those reckless and 'fun' things got her killed.” His Mother had told him the day of the funeral.)
A guard came rushing up, sword raised and ready to stab Jungkook, but Lisa stopped him with her dainty hand, rings glistening in the light, long, sharp nails painted black. She says something in Thai “Do not hurt him, don't even touch him,”) and now Jungkook wishes he had taken Thai when he was younger. I mean he learned practically every other language, why couldn't he add one more? The man had stopped the moment she raised her hand. He looks between the two royals, sword still raised and ready to strike when given the order. “I must go now, Jungkook, but I'm sure we'll meet again. Until then, let us put the war on temporary hiatus, shall we? How about... Let's say three weeks? Yes, that sounds reasonable. Until then, brother,”
Lisa had left him, and that was a week and a half ago. Jungkook's men had gotten more supplies, had gotten more recruits from other ally countries and had all washed themselves and their clothes in the river, making the smell of the camp a little more bearable.
Jungkook walked into the infirmary, pulling his scarf around his nose and mouth, walking over to a doctor taking notes. “How are they?” Jungkook asks, his voice muffled by the red knit material. The doctor glances in his direction but doesn't look up at him, too focused on his notes. “They've been better,”
Jungkook has half the mind to snort at the obvious reply, but he refrains from doing so seeing as this particular doctor doesn't have a great sense of humor. Jungkook learned that one the hard and awkward way.
“The plaque is spreading like wildfire, consuming towns and villages in it's wake, and our little military camp will be no exception. The Bubonic plaque will overtake this war sooner or later, whether it be from our infirmary, given someone doesn't wear a mask, or a hooker who doesn't know their sick will sleep with one of your men,” The doctor pauses, checking on a patient, the sick man looking back at the large mask with fearful, wide eyes. “But whatever the case may be, it will happen. And neither you nor I will be able to stop it,”
For a long moment, neither of them speak, Jungkook watching the doctor do his routine check-ups on the infected men, only their labored breathing, and the doctor's muffled murmurs could be heard.
“... How long do you think-” Jungkook clears his throat, swallowing the lump that had formed despite his wishes, “How long would it take for a healthy man, around his late forties, to die from the plaque? If he was only, well, you know.. If they were- um-”
“M'lord, I know what you're trying to ask without actually asking it,” The doctor says, not looking at Jungkook as he checks the pulse on one patient, “And I'm guessing your father died within a week or two, under the assumption he was tortured mercil-”
“Please, stop,” Jungkook croaks out shutting his eyes tightly trying to will the image of his father being tortured away.
“Right... Sorry,” The doctor says a little sheepishly, and Jungkook tilts his head back, saying something about taking his leave, before he exits through the tent's opening and into the bright outside.
><><><><><><
Seokjin and Namjoon were eating their dinner in the large dining hall; the large, brown oak table big enough to sit fifteen (or more) easily, is empty spare the two kings sitting smack dab in the middle of it.
It was quiet besides the crackling of the fireplace behind them, and the occasional clink of a fork hitting the china. Neither one knowing what to talk about, so instead, the room was filled with the deafening silence, with the thousand unspoken thoughts and worries.
This is a tough way to start off ruling a kingdom, Namjoon muses. The people already had their doubts and displeasure (That they had told the kings without any hesitation at all) about Seokjin marrying Namjoon. For more than one reason as well.
The first and most obvious one was, Namjoon was a man. And so was Seokjin. They're both males, or at least Namjoon is pretty sure they are, last time he checked, they both had . And two males not only being in an open relationship but also marrying? Simply unheard of.
And their people are split into two groups about this; one side had no problem with this, seeing that love goes beyond genders, that you cannot choose whom you fall in love with. You don't love the gender, you love the person.
The other side is much more single-minded, stating that you do love the gender, the opposite gender, to be precise. That if you set your mind to it, you can develop feelings for the person. That if you go on your knees and pray to God, asking for forgiveness for wanting, for lusting, after another of your you will eventually be 'fixed'. They liked to argue using things like religions and the fact that two of the same gender cannot reproduce. In reality, they're homophobic and are using the two kings' love for one another as a target for their anger.
The second reason was that, Seokjin, is very obviously of royal blood, and that Namjoon, is not. Namjoon was a butler, he was not pure of blood like Seokjin. The people were angry that Seokjin had married “below his rank”.
So, the Kim kingdom was already on the verge of exploding into chaos, but now that the plague has arrived, confining the people to court, to inside the walls, Namjoon is sure that it will be a very difficult time for them. Difficult is putting it lightly, he snorts, and his husband jumps at the sudden sound in the otherwise silent room.
“What's so amusing, love?” His voice rings out slow and sweet, like molasses, and Namjoon internally cries out by how much it affects him, makes him weak in the knees, his stomach fluttering.
“I was just thinking about how crazy our first few months as kings have been.” He replies, turning his head to look over at his husband, who was already turned towards him. The fire behind them flashes warm lighting onto the side of his, making his already soft features, softer. Seokjin smiles at him a small smile, agreeing with him.
“I know it's been hard, Namjoon, and it will get hard again, but after the plaque goes and the people settle down about having two kings, I'm sure it will all get easier. I know we'll get through this, together, as we have always done.” He says and Namjoon nods, swallowing. He leans in and presses his lips to the elder's, who sighs contently. The kiss is short, but that didn't make it any less breathtaking.
“I love you, Jin,” He whispers, his forehead resting against Seokjin's, their noses barely touching. “I love you too, Joon-ah.” The king replies, his hot breath tickling Namjoon's skin, and they both smile like lovesick idiots. And they suppose they are, but they wouldn't have it any other way.
“It's a bit chilly despite the fire, isn't it?” Seokjin asks after they've pulled apart, finishing their dinners before they got too cold.
“I can think of at least six different ways to make you warmer,” Namjoon says smiling mischievously, dimples appearing on his smooth cheeks. “and four out of those six are less than appropriate to discuss at the table.” Eyebrows raise, once, twice, thrice-
Seokjin slaps his shoulder, sputtering on his sip of wine. “Kim Namjoon!” He cries incredulously as his cheeks flare up in embarrassment. Despite it all, his voice is filled with amusement and love, and Namjoon isn't surprised one bit when the elder adds in a whisper, “.... Shall we head to the bedroom, then? S-so we can discuss those.... Particular topics freely?”
Namjoon carries the elder up the long stairs and into their bedchambers stating, “Oh, we'll do a whole lot more than just discussing, love.”
><><><><><><
Taehyung's slender fingers wrapped around the cold metal, and he lifts it up, knocking twice. Then, backing up, he lets go of the knocker, not wanting to hold onto it any longer. It looked like a devil, Taehyung hates devils.
He waits a few moments, even backing up to make sure there was indeed light in the windows, and seeing that there was, he stepped back to the door, getting ready to knock once more when the door opened suddenly. The chain lock kept in place as he peeks out of the crack and out at the other man.
Shocked, Taehyung's hand frozen in the air as he looks at the man in front him with wide eyes. “Um...” Taehyung starts, clearing his throat and bringing his hand down to his side awkwardly.
“Yes?” The man asks, his voice surprisingly soothing to the baker despite the wariness dripping from it. The man opens the door a little more, or as much as the lock would allow and looked around Taehyung in search of something.
“I-I'm sorry for visiting you at this hour,” Taehyung starts, his feet shuffling against the cobblestone. “I wouldn't normally ask this, but I am lost and I have to deliver something asap.”
“I'm sorry but-”
“Please, it's of the utmost importance. I have orders from the Queen,” Taehyung rushes to add, afraid the man might shut the door in his face.
“The... Queen?” The man asks, looking at Taehyung skeptically as if thinking, 'Why would the queen send someone like you if this package is so important.' Taehyung tried not to let it hurt his confidence too much, as he gave the stranger a simple nod.
“I have proof, if you need it,” He says and the man looks him up and down again, like he was calculating something, before promptly shutting the door in Taehyung's face. The baker stands shocked, once again, looking at the wood door, but not really seeing anything. He finally blinks and turns to leave, huffing. Well, you too, assho-
The door opens, this time without the chain lock, and the man doesn't move as he blocks the doorway of the house with his body, “Well, show me the proof, before I let you inside my house,” He says eyeing Taehyung, as if challenging him and crossing his arms over his broad chest.
After showing him the letter for Jungkook from his mother that bared the official Queen's Crest, the two men had shuffled into his house, and Jungkook was instantly hit with a wave of something he could only describe as 'Holy , my mouth is a literal waterfall right now, I hope I haven't drooled on myself, but Jesus ing Christ that smells delectable'
“You hungry? My wife's just finished making dinner,” The man said, and Taehyung couldn't help but nod earnestly, “Alright, then. We'll eat then discuss what to do about what to do with you,”
“You make it sound as if I'm a lost puppy,” Taehyung huffs but his voice was filled with amusement and warmth. The man looks back at him, raising his eyebrows, irises sparkling mischievously. Everything about it screamed 'But aren't you?'
Taehyung sat down next to the man just as his wife came in the dining room with another dish, “Oh! Welcome,” She smiles at him as she wipes her hands on her dress skirt before reaching over the table to shake hands with him.
“Thank you for so graciously opening up your home to me,” Taehyung replies with a small smile, before sitting back down and scooting in all the way. “and for letting me stay and eat dinner with you as well.”
“It's nothing, really.” The woman says as she begins scooping some food onto her plate before passing the dish to her husband, reaching for a new one instead. “It's nice to have an addition to the table, seeing as I've been forced to look at just this ugly mug for weeks now, what with not being able to leave the house an all.” She laughs as her husband shoots her a look, but Taehyung can tell it's full of endearment underneath it all.
The wife was seemingly the more talkative one, Taehyung noted as he let her words sink in trying to understand what she had meant, sense her husband only gave quiet, hums or grunts in response.
“I don't understand... Why haven't you been able to leave the house?” Taehyung asks cautiously as he picks up some meat with a fork, moving it to his plate.
“Oh, well, I'm sure you know all about it. Everyone who didn't, is sure to now that the castle's gates have been closed..” She replies, while he husband lets out a gruff noise, chewing his meat.
“I was wondering why they did that... But unfortunately, I was sent off by her majesty before I got the chance to be informed about it. I'm sure all the other servants and workers were informed within the hour, just after I left...” Taehyung mutters, and the couple look at him with shocked eyes.
“You mean you really don't know?” The woman asks, and Taehyung's eyebrows furrow together, confused as he shakes his head slowly.
“The Black Death's upon us,” The husband says, his voice low and serious. The ominous way he'd said it, almost dramatically, had Taehyung's blood run cold, shivers running up and down his spine as goosebumps form on his milky skin.
“What? That's, no it's-”
“I'm afraid it is what it is, dear, and the plague has struck once again.” The woman says, and suddenly Taehyung's apatite is gone, his stomach twisting and turning as concern takes over his system.
Jungkook's been out in the war, protected by a simple mask; a simple mask that could easily break. Is he okay? What if the enemy managed to get him infected? What if he's struggling to survive, right this very moment, all alone? What if-
“I know that look,” The husband says, his voice startling Jungkook once again. “I've seen it more times than I can count, even on my own. That's the look of a troubled boy, pained and worried about his love... Are they out there?” He asks gently and Taehyung nods, eyes unfocused as he continues to let horrific images of the prince, his prince, being scared, alone, dying, tortured-
“May God have mercy on their soul, then. And may you find them in good health,” The wife says, her voice quiet and sad.
“I need to deliver that package,” Taehyung says, scooting his chair back as he gets up, and the husband does the same.
“Can it wait till morning? It's awfully dark out right now,”
“'m fraid not, the queen stressed that it was to be delivered by tomorrow, no later.” The man nods and kisses his wife goodbye. Pulling on his boots and coat, the two of them walk out into the cold night, rushing to the barn to get Buttercup and the man's horse.
The man takes off, his horse galloping at full speed into the forest, Taehyung and Buttercup following closely behind.
><><><><><><><><><
Min Yoongi.
-Genius, damn straight,
-Attractive, Well, obviously, have you seen my face?
-Strong, As all generals should be
-Sensible, Sure, why not?
-Caring, Well, I mean I guess.
-Has a cute , I-What?
-Really squishy, No, no, no. Stop right there!
-Gives really good cuddles, I... I kind of do, don't I? I mean-
-Gummy smile, sToP
-Likes to have someone run their fingers through his hair, That's personal information, and besides, who doesn't? Only a sociopath wouldn't like it when someone, a certain someone with small fingers, might he add, runs their fingers through his hair, working magic on his scalp.
-Likes to take long baths with his, undoubtedly beautiful boyfriend, Park Jimin, THAT'S... That's... Also true. Goddammit, Jimin,
“We can't have it say that!” Yoongi cries out, as he looks over Jimin's shoulder who was writing a list of things about the general so that it could be engraved in a plaque. It was a reward from the queen for being such a good general, for over five years now. Yoongi releases his tight hold on the younger's waist, walking over to the table on the other side of the ten to take a sip of wine.
“Why not? You told me to be honest!” Jimin huffs, turning around to pout at his boyfriend, his pink, plump bottom lip sticking out.
“Yes.. I did but this is.. A little too honest, don't you think?” Yoongi tries carefully, trying-and failing-to not stare at Jimin's lips as the younger darts his lips out to wet the slightly parched, plump flesh. It was like his lips had a mind of their own, always striving to give Yoongi a hard time concentrating, striving to give Yoongi a hard-on, Yoongi thinks, and his neck flushes slightly.
“Nope!” Jimin exclaims smiling, all white teeth and disappearing eyes, and . Yoongi's got it bad.
“Okay, but this plaque is going to be around for like... Centuries! I can't let my reputation be-”
“What if I let you me?” Jimin says casually, looking up at Yoongi through his lashes, his eyes wide and innocent. Yoongi, who was walking back over, trips over, just barely grasping the edge of one of the prince's many trunks of clothes, keeping himself from falling onto his face.
“W-what?” He chokes, and Jimin looks away, playing coy.
“You heard me,”
“Yes, I did, but I never expected my innocent Jiminie to a.) have such a vulgar mouth, and b.) use as leverage over ruining my intimidating, manly image by saying I like to cuddle and other !”
“Yeah, well, I'm just full of surprises,” Jimin says, rolling his eyes at the general who finally got back up and had walked over to Jimin's bed. Jimin wasn't looking at him, but he knew he'd sat down on the edge of the bed by the slight dip of the mattress, the slight tilt of his body as gravity pulls at him.
“You certainly are,” Yoongi whispers, reaching forward to pull the prince into his chest, kissing the top of his head gently. “Like that time you thought it would be funny to walk around your tent in just an oversized shirt and undergarments. God, you nearly killed me, I swear.” Yoongi groans, remembering how Jimin's small fingers barely poked out from underneath the long sleeves, how his thighs looked so touchable, so bite-able, so, so very ' me and everything that's holy'.
Jimin giggles, the vibrations traveling through to Yoongi's chest, making it constrict from the beautiful sound filling the room. “That was fun,”
“It was was not,”
“Yes it was, Yoongi-hyung, don't lie!”
“I don't lie.... Add honest to the list,” Yoongi says eyes wandering to the discarded paper, quill, and ink set to the side of the end table beside them.
“I will do no such thing,”
“Why not?!”
“Because you lie,”
“I most certainly do not.”
“See? You're doing it right now!” Yoongi couldn't keep the smile off his face at the sound of Jimin's voice. He sounded so pleased, and even though Yoongi doesn't know if he likes the fact that Jimin's happy because of teasing Yoongi, he does know he loves seeing him so happy.
“I give up,” Yoongi mutters, and the younger sighs contently when Yoongi wraps his arms around his chest, pulling him nearer. “You always do,” He hums and Yoongi squeezes him tightly, teasingly warning him.
“Shut it, Park, or I'll send you back to your castle.”
“You can't do that, I'm Jungkook's cousin!”
“That doesn't change anything. You could still be sent all the way to France if I gave the order.” Yoongi says, and Jimin wonders for a moment if that's true.
Yoongi does have a large amount of power here, maybe even almost as much as Jungkook, but sending someone to a whole other country? And not being of noble, much less royal, blood? Surely that's not possible. Yoongi could send someone to a different city, or a province, yeah. But not a country.... Right?
“No one besides the king has that kind of authority,” He says his voice a slight octave higher then before, almost as if he was trying to convince himself more then Yoongi.
“If you don't stop teasing me, we'll both find out soon enough,” Yoongi grumbles, but his thumb is rubbing soothing circles on Jimin's chest. Even so, Jimin can't help but swallow the lump in his throat that was forming.
He can't imagine being away from Jungkook or Yoongi, not even for a day. He loves them both so much, and he's positive he'd go mad with worry if he were to leave them. Some would assume Jimin hated Jungkook for being King here, assuming that Jimin, being the prince's cousin, is next in line for the throne when Jungkook dies (If the prince doesn't already have an heir, that is).
That Jimin would want Jungkook to die here, in the war, would possibly plot against the younger, try to get him killed, even. But. Jimin doesn't want the throne. Now, if given the chance, Jimin wouldn't turn away from being King, but he doesn't want it enough to kill his own cousin. He loves Jungkook like a brother, and would rather he die then the little prince.
And with Yoongi it's the same thing, he'd rather die in place of the general, and he wouldn't hesitate to do so if so required. He knows they've only been dating for a few months now, but he is so positively positive that he loves him. That he wouldn't mind spending his life with the grouchy man, possibly starting a family.
He can't fathom what it would be like, to not seeing that gummy smile he's grown to love. Can't imagine not hearing the man bark out orders to soldiers in that deep voice of his, that Jimin's so responsive to, shivers running up and down his spine. Doesn't want to picture not touching the man's strong chest, running his fingertips over the various scars the man has collected over the years in combat. Wouldn't think about what it would be like to sleep in his king sized bed with the absence of the general, a big, wide space to his left, empty.
He just can't, and he hopes will never have to.
><><><><><><><><
15 years ago:
“Hurry up, Jungkook!” Lisa yells behind her, as the two of them run through the halls of the castle arms filled with pastries and bottles of chilled milk. “Don't look back,” She cries as the loud footsteps continue to near.
“Princess Lalisa! Prince Jungkook, stop running this very instant!” The very upset voice of Mr. Kim yells after them, and Jungkook cringes. They were in so much trouble. His sister didn't seem to be bothered by this, though. She never did.
They turn a corner, and Lisa pulls his hand, and in addition, himself behind some armor. He opens his mouth to ask her what they were doing, but she shushes him, placing a small finger to her lips. He shuts his mouth and listens.
The footsteps of Mr. Kim grow nearer, and another pair of footsteps come up behind the man as well. Two pairs of feet come into veiw, one significantly larger then the other, and Jungkook didn't need to see their faces to know it was Namjoon and his father.
“Blasted! We've lost them,” Mr. Kim curses under his breath, looking around them, his son standing nearby and breathing deeply. “Son, do you know where they've gone?”
Jungkook's hold on the pastries slips, and one singular cream-filled treat falls the ground silently, rolling out from behind the knight and into the hallway. It was just barely there, and Mr. Kim didn't seem to notice it, but Jungkook knew that Namjoon had, if the small hitch in his breath was anything to go by.
“U-um, no, father, I don't” Namjoon said, stepping closer to the roll and subtly kicking it back behind the armor and to the two small children hiding in the shadows. “I'm sure they haven't come back this way, we would've seen them. They've certainly continued down that way... The west wing, perhaps?”
His father nods, heading off down the hall in a hurry, and Jungkook and Lisa let out a sigh of relief as they step out of their hiding spot, a big toothy smile forming on his face as Jungkook thanks Namjoon.
“Yeah, yeah, just save me a croissant. Now, go away before he comes back!” Namjoon nudges them as he hurries off after his father, letting the two of them run off in the opposite direction, the milk sloshing in their glasses.
Jungkook slips on an expensive rug, falling down, the milk glasses shattering around him loudly.
“Uh-oh,” Lisa breathes as guards come rushing in at the loud crash in case an intruder had come in. Once seeing it's just the two children, they relax and look at the two warily.
“Your mum's not going to be too happy about this,” One guard, Jungkook's personal favorite, Kunpimook Bhuwakul, (Or BamBam, as most like to call him for his profound love to smash and blow up things) says giving them a look.
The two are taken to the throne room to wait for their mother's wrath, and Jungkook shuffles his feet nervously against the stone flooring.
“LALISA YOU HAVE A LOT OF EXPLAINING TO DO!” Their mother's loud voice booms and the two siblings cringe, looking at one another.
“We stick together, right?” Lisa asks hopefully as the clicking of heels gets closer, their inevitable doom drawing closer.
“Forever,” Jungkook whispers back confidently, and Lisa relaxes as they both turn to meet the piercing eyes of their mother, who quite frankly was livid.
“Jungkook, get over here,” The prince rushes to his mother's side, looking back at Lisa with wide eyes.
“Mother, Lisa isn't-” the small boy tries, not wanting to see his sister get hurt again, but his mother wasn't one to listen.
“Jungkook, stay out of this,” His mother cuts him off and her tone left no room for argument. “This is between me and your sister, who is about three seconds away from being exiled.”
“Mother! You wouldn't! Over some spilled milk?” Lisa's eyes were wide, and for a brief moment his mother's face cracks shows she didn't intend to exile her only daughter, but then the mask is back and she lifts her head up high.
“You have no place to tell me what I will or will not be doing, no matter the reason. Now, explain yourself,”
“It really was an accident, mother. Jungkook slipped and fell and-”
“Do not try and blame your little brother for this!” His mother's voice raising to practically a scream at the end of the sentence, and Jungkook jumps in his mother's tight hold. “You are three years older! You know better than this, Lalisa! You should be helping your brother prepare for being king, but no. You're corrupting him, teaching him it's alright to steal. First milk, then a book, maybe some clothes, jewels! You name it! He'll be a corrupted king, a thief playing dress up! You'll turn this kingdom into a laughing stock!”
“Do you really doubt your son that much, that you don't trust he'd know better than to do those things?!” Lisa shoots back, her stance becoming defensive as she fights with their mother, her eyes not meeting Jungkook's as the younger tried desperately to catch her's.
“Don't try to change the subject, Lalisa! You're supposed to be the mature one, the elder sister Jungkook can look up to! But no, you have to be the troublesome child you like to be!”
“IF I'M THE OLDER ONE THEN WHY AREN'T I GOING TO BE QUEEN? IT SHOULD BE MY BIRTHRIGHT!” Lisa yells, and Jungkook tenses. This has always been a sensitive subject for them both, and Jungkook can tell Lisa hates the fact that Jungkook will become King, hates the fact that even though she's older, she'll have to obey his every command. She doesn't hate Jungkook, and he knows she would never blame him for it, but he can still see the carefully concealed resentment towards her family and the crown.
“Lisa,” Their mother sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as she closes her eyes tightly. “We've been through this, and now's not the time.”
“It never is,” is all Lisa says before she sends a heated glance between Jungkook and their mother, storming out of the room and pushing past the guards forcefully.
“LISA! LALISA! JEON LALISA!” His mother yells after her but doesn't get up from her throne, a clear indication that she wasn't all that upset. So, instead of running after her distraught daughter she turned to Jungkook with a sigh.
“You're not in trouble, Jungkook. You're only a child, you didn't know any better... Now, show mother how your french has improved.”
><><><><><><
Present Day:
“Yah! Off me, Kim,” Jungkook snaps trying to push the man's arms off him, but Yugyeom only tightens his hold on Jungkook. “Yugyeom, seriously, you act like we're dating sometimes.” Jungkook mumbles, waddling over to look over some documents regarding the war, his best friend's arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
Yugyeom clings to Jungkook like a koala, never letting go of the prince even as they walk out of the tent and into the dreary, cloudy morning. Even as Jungkook holds an important conference. Hell, he even made Jungkook sit between his legs during breakfast.
He doesn't let go of Jungkook even as they study the sky, finding out that the clouds were storm clouds, more because of the fact that they were getting hit with raindrops than examining the clouds themselves, but still.
It's not until they're back inside Jungkook's tents looking for solitude from the rain, that the prince grows tired of the clingy-ness. “Okay, fess up. What did you do?” Jungkook grumbles craning his neck to look over his shoulder at the boy.
“Why do you assume I've done something?” Yugyeom's eyes blink innocently as he pulls back just enough to look at the prince. Jungkook lets out a noise, something close to a laugh but more like a sigh.
“Just tell me already, 'Gyeom.”
“.... I might've told my father that you'd said you needed my help in the war and that you wanted to keep me here and that I simply cannot leave my best friend when he needs me....” Jungkook's eyes flash, and he twists in the strong arms around him, turning so they're chests are almost touching and he can look at his friend properly.
“You what?” Jungkook asks, his voice rising unusually high. Yugyeom squints, looking off to the side of the tent watching the material bounce with every drop that hits it. “I might've turned what was supposed to be a quick visit to my princely friend into something more permanent... So that I don't go back home,” the boy replies, the prince shaking his head.
“'Gyeomie! What the hell? You know I love you, but really, you at combat. And you aren't the best at cooking or strategy or blacksmithing. You don't help us gain anything.... You'd just be sitting inside a tent in the cold eating the food meant for soldiers.” Yugyeom winces at the harshness of Jungkook's words, but he knows he's right. He mumbles a 'You didn't have to say it like that' and Jungkook pulls him into a hug. “I'm sorry, but it's the truth.”
“I just don't want to have to go back there and see her again.”
“That bad?”
“I know arranged marriages aren't always perfect, but she has got to be Lucifer's descendant or something equally horrible.”
“I'm sorry, Yugyeom. I know that if I don't do something soon, I'll most likely marry the princess from Japan that I sent away...” Jungkook replies, never breaking the hug.
“Yeah. Sometimes I wish we could get married. And then like cheat on eachother and like basically date whoever we wanted. It would be like we weren't even married like we were just rooming together with our true loves or something.” Jungkook snorts and Yugyeon chuckles, the vibrations tickling Jungkook.
“Mr. Jeon, you have a delivery...” Someone says, and Jungkook nods his head, turning Yugyeom around so he can see the solider over Yugyeom's shoulder. “Send them in,” Is all Jungkook says, swaying the two of them a little. The thunder is loud outside the tent, and Jungkook wonders when the storm will let up.
“Anyways, you need to pack up and go back home before your dad starts to believe you.”
“Aw why so cold, love?” Yugyeom teases and Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I thought you'd want to see your secret boyfriend a little more.” Jungkook knows his friend is teasing him, but his words make him think of Taehyung, and his heart stings.
God, he misses him.
“Shut up, you know we'll never be together. I'm taken.” Jungkook says, turning them both around as he sways them, his back now to the tent opening. What's taking the delivery man so long?
“Aw, but I love you! Ditch whoever you're dating and just runaway with me, Kooks! We can hide in the forests and live with the deer and turn a cave into our house, just like we've always planned. You'd be the domestic house-wife, washing our stone dishes in the river, cooking us food over the fire.” Yugyeom's voice is light, just like how he holds his alcohol. But that's a story for a different day. Right now sober Yugyeom is teasing Jungkook, and he wont lose to him.
“Tempting, really. Honestly, the person I'm dating is below my status by miles. I don't know why I liked him in the first place. Maybe I should marry you, at least then we'd be dating at our levels, and we'd both be truly happy, seeing as we truly love each other. Unlike how I am with that baker.” Jungkook says, even though he doesn't mean a word of it. He loves Taehyung, regardless of status. He would still love Taehyung if he was a beggar in the streets.
A crash is heard, startling them both, and when Jungkook breaks away from his friend's embrace, he's shocked at what he sees. A basket filled with foods was thrown to the ground, glass containers and wine spilling everywhere. His eyes travel up to meet those of the delivery boy's and, well, speak of the devil.
“T-Taehyung,” Jungkook's face is frozen in horror as he watches his boyfriend's mouth open and closes for a moment before he snaps it shut for good. His eyes were filled with tears, and Jungkook knew he'd overheard it all. Taking a step forwards, hands reaching out for the baker's body Jungkook tries to speak, “Taehyung, please let me explain-”
“No. you, Jeon Jungkook. I should've known that your kind isn't capable of loving someone for who they are, and not their social status. God, I'm such an idiot. I should've known better to trust a royal like you.” Turning on his heel, Taehyung runs out of the tent and into the storm, leaving a distraught Jungkook and a very confused Yugyeom behind.
><><><><><><><><
Taehyung runs out of the tent, not wanting Jungkook to have the privilege of seeing him cry.
God, he's seriously such an idiot. He should've known that it was all too good to be true. That Jungkook wouldn't truly love someone like him, someone with as low a rank as him. It's all about power and status with those royals, so he doesn't know why he thought Jungkook would be any different.
He wasn't looking where he was going and he ends up running into something solid. He nearly falls down into the mud, when strong hands grab him. “Taehyung-ah?” Taehyung looks up at hearing his name and is surprised to find he'd run into Hoseok. He opens his mouth to speak, but someone interrupts him.
“Taehyung!” It's Jungkook. He was running towards them, mud splashing beneath his feet.
Panicking, Taehyung does the only thing he can think of to save himself from the shame of letting Jungkook see him like this. Letting him see his red, puffy, and tear ridden eyes. See just how messed up about this he was. He turns to Hoseok, who was looking at them both confused, takes his face into his soft hands, and kisses him.
Hoseok lets out a cry of surprise but soon wraps his arms around Taehyung's waist, pulling him closer.
Jungkook stops running towards them, his hand falling to his side as he watches one of his best men, and someone he'd call a friend, kiss his boy- his ex-boyfriend. Jungkook messed up, he messed up really bad. And now he's watching the consequences unfold in front of him. He deserves this. Taehyuhng deserves to be happy. I used to make him happy. Hoseok deserves someone like Taehyung. Someone doesn't mean it has to be Taehyung.
, I should've loved him better.
Taehyung breaks apart, peeking over at Jungkook to find that the prince was still there, watching them looking defeated. He holds back a sob, and Hoseok hugs him. “Does this mean you'll go on another date with me?” Taehyung doesn't say yes, but he doesn't say no either. His heart breaks as he sees Jungkook, his white shirt already soaked with rainwater, his hair plastered to his face, turn around and leave.
He walked away. He walked away from Taehyung, walked away from everything they had and everything they could be. And Taehyung can't hold back the fresh set of tears as he burries his head in Hoseok's arms.
I should've known better than to trust a royal. They're all the same. They only look out for themselves and are incapable of love.
><><><><><><><><><><
“The hiatus on the war is now officially over. I don't care if he's my brother,” Lisa's voice carries through the marble walls of the temporary base they were staying at. “I want my country back, and I will get it no matter what the costs.”
“Long live the King! Long Live Lisa!” Someone shouts, and soon it's being chanted by everyone, the faces of soldiers, dukes, and simple townsfolk alike chanting the words as they look at her. Lisa smirks, shifting in her throne comfortably. I was meant to rule. It was my birthright. It is my brithright. Just you wait, Mother, I'll show you. I'll show them all that the Lalisa they knew is gone. Lisa is back and stronger than ever.
“Long live King Lisa!” They scream, ending the chanting as Lisa taps her long nails against the stone of her throne.
I'm coming home.
AN:
Did someone order some angst? No? Well too bad, you're gettig some anyway.
And do I even need to say that I didn't proofread this after writing it? No? You could tell just by how poorly it was written?... I see.
[ She walks down the long corridors, and she passes some of the family's paintings. There is one of Jimin, her nephew, and surprisingly there is one of Jin. “I bet Namjoon placed this here, the lovesick idiot.” She walks down to the last painting on the wall. This is the most recent picture of Jungkook, painted just days before he left for the war. ]
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