Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

~~~

~~🗡~~

~~~

All funerals are sad, but there is something uniquely devastating about one for a child.

The courtyard outside the royal coffin hall is packed with people, almost the entire court, but it’s quiet. Only the soft rhythm of a single drum beats by the open door, a single murmured voice chanting alongside it.

The royal family is inside the hall where Yi Sun’s coffin has been laid since his body was prepared, waiting for the funeral procession to the tomb site.

The crowds outside are still as they wait, only the occasional cough echoes through the air, or the slight shuffle of feet, the clack of beads hanging from the fringes of their ceremonial hats.

When a new king is crowned his coffin is made the same year, and each year after that a layer of lacquer is added to the wood until he dies and is placed inside it. Yi Sun never lived long enough to become King and he never had his coffin made before he died, even though almost everybody knew he was going to. So, the coffin they arranged for him is new.

As Jimin watches it be carried from the coffin hall, he’s glad it's the usual size, not smaller, fit for a child. Even so, he finds it hard to keep his mind from wandering to the thoughts of Yi Sun laid out inside it, small and cold.

He blinks and looks up toward the sky, breathing through his nose.

A few moments later, a hand bell rings out across the courtyard, a single ring and then another until it sets a slow, marching rhythm. It is the signal for the military personnel holding the funeral bier to begin to move, matching their pace to the ring of the bell and starting the funeral procession.

Jimin looks back across the courtyard and his eyes immediately fall on Jungkook, standing stoically in his full ceremonial uniform. He is one of the men holding the coffin.

At the front of the bier is a jade tablet, engraved with the Prince’s posthumous title and his epitaph. The entire royal family walks in the procession.

As they file out of the courtyard the rest of the people there follow slowly, ordered by their ranks and positions. Jimin is low ranked enough to not have moved when the front of the procession goes by him, and he stands and watches them pass.

He sees Jungkook's face in profile, etched in grief, his strong jaw clenched and the whites of his knuckles showing where he grips the pole that supports the bier.

Jimin feels startlingly aware of the distance between them, separated by the crowds and by so many other things.

~~🗡~~

If there was any hope that the King being in mourning for his only son would at least have paused the rebellion against him– that hope had been unfounded.

Jimin thinks he hasn't seen a more shameful sight than the King being forced to answer to a petition from the state council while wearing full mourning clothes, as he had just three days before his son’s funeral. When Jeon Jongseon stood before the King in the packed council chamber and begged him to abdicate for the good of the Kingdom.

There had been famine in the south, pestilence affecting many farms and an outbreak of contagion in two of the hut villages outside of the city. And then the beloved Crown Prince had died.

Only a cursed King who had displeased the order of the world would be sent so many signs that he should be removed for the betterment of the Kingdom.

Or that is what they had argued.

Jimin knows the accusations wouldn't stand if the entire council wasn't in Jeon Jongseon and Kim Jeonghui’s hands. Even if all those things they listed were true, which he doubted. What they argued shouldn't be enough to depose a King. Not least when the alternative they're proposing is Yi Jin, Prince Seokjin. No sane official would depose the son of a Queen in favour of the son of a concubine.

But theirs isn't a sane court anymore, that's what Jimin had thought as he looked around the council chamber at the officials who one by one fell to their knees, begging the grieving King to abdicate and save them.

Fortunately, Jimin asking his father to return to court had been incredibly well timed.

He'd done so in a fit of rage at Jungkook being harmed, done with the schemes of the palace and desperate to be free. He hadn’t really expected that his father would listen to him, after all, he never does. But perhaps threatening to murder a state councillor would bring most fathers home.

Either way, the timing had been fortuitous. Because his father did listen to him and it meant that Park Jiwon was already on the road when the Crown Prince's condition worsened, and only a week away from Hanseong when he died.

The day Park Jiwon returned he rode straight to the King’s side.

Jimin hadn’t seen his father in four years and he only heard of his return when the news reached him, through the gossip channels of the palace, that Park Jiwon was in the Huwon with the King. He thinks perhaps he might have been disappointed or hurt if it wasn’t exactly what he expected him to do.

And now Park Jiwon was standing there by the King’s side at his son’s funeral. He wrote the eulogy, Jimin knows, while the King wrote the prince’s epitaph.

The King had gone straight back to finding comfort in Park Jiwon’s words.

Everybody always knew that Park Jiwon was the power behind the King. Without him by his side the King might have the convictions but he didn’t have the wit nor the strength to wrangle the officials, his idealism not enough to lead a government.

As Jimin watches them from across the crowds, he wonders if his father has returned just in time to turn the tide.

Or at least whether the King has found a little strength in his return– exactly as many had feared that he would.

~~🗡~~

After the funeral, Jimin can think of nothing but Jungkook’s expression and the hard lines of his face. Not for the first time, he loathes that their life means he can’t go to him. He can’t even send Jungkook a message safely. Neither can he sneak into Jungkook’s home as he used to. That’s far too dangerous now, not with the court on the brink of a coup with Jungkook’s father on one side of it, while Jimin’s father is now back on the other.

Seeing each other isn’t safe and Jimin resents it deeply.

As he goes to leave the palace that evening, he finds himself wandering to the pavilion. It’s dark, with just a little light from a few lamps on the other side of the lake reflecting on the water’s surface. Jimin leans on the railing and looks out across the water.

He wishes that everything could just stop. That some divine entity would intervene and just pause everything, just for a moment.

Jimin feels like he needs a chance to breathe.

Not only is the court in turmoil but he knows he and Jungkook are too, that they haven’t really had a chance to work anything out. Since the prince died they have barely even talked.

He sighs, leaning forward until his palm rests on his chin.

Jungkook’s grief following the death of the prince is complicated. Jimin understands, though he still finds himself somewhat a bystander to it.

As he watches him mourn, Jimin often thinks of Jungkook practising combat with Yi Sun in the gardens in Onyang. He remembers running towards them through the trees, the sound of their laughter reaching him before the sight of them did.

He hopes that Jungkook remembers that laughter too. That he remembers those moments where he fought so hard for Yi Sun to just be a child finding some joy in the world.

Jungkook’s loss is deep on its own, but Jimin knows that it feels all the keener to him because he also bears the grief of the Queen. He can tell that her grief hangs heavily on Jungkook, who wants to comfort her more than propriety allows him to.

In those first days after the prince had died, the Queen didn’t often leave her rooms and Jimin often saw Jungkook standing outside on guard, his face pale and emotionless.

He can't imagine how it felt to Jungkook to stand there and hear how she cried, but not be allowed to go inside and comfort her.

In a strange way, Jimin finds himself in the same position, feeling Jungkook’s grief and longing for there to be something he could do to help him bear it. 

He’s startled from his thoughts by Agmong swooping down through the darkness and hopping across the railing to him.

She’s been by his side frequently recently, clearly unable to be with Jungkook as much as she would like to be, when he is so often with the royal family, and so she seeks out Jimin instead.

She nudges Jimin’s hand and he opens it immediately, well used to what she means. She drops a small red glass bead into his palm.

‘I’m going to go ahead and imagine you found that on the floor,’ he laughs softly, ‘and not that you tore it straight off some poor official's hat.’

Agmong just cocks her head and then climbs up his sleeve to settle on his shoulder.

Jimin slips the bead into his pocket. He keeps all the little tokens she brings him.

He’s grateful for her presence, she feels like a thread between him and Jungkook.

He also can’t help wishing that Jungkook might come to the pavilion too, even if them being seen there would be more than stupid. He still wishes that Jungkook might think to come here, just as Agmong did. That he might somehow know that Jimin would be there if he needed him.

But he doesn’t come.

Jimin waits there for a long time, until even the lamps have been extinguished along the pathways, before he finally leaves.

~~🗡~~

‘How is the King?’ Jimin asks his father, after the plates from their evening meal are cleared and they are sat together in the main room of their home.

It's a warm, mild night and they have drawn back all the screened windows on one side, leaving the side of the hanok open with a pleasant view over the gardens.

‘He's spent a lot of time in quiet contemplation. And with the Queen.’ His father answers, his strong voice measured and slow. ‘Grief is a long road a person walks and there are many different stops along the way.’

‘It must be a great comfort to him that you have returned.’

‘And is it to you, Jimin-ah? Is my return a comfort to you?’

Jimin doesn’t answer for a while, he simply looks out across their garden and tries to gather his thoughts.

The years without his father had come with their perks– and some freedom– but he had missed him often and wished he was home. His absence had become a heavy weight for Jimin to bear, always having disliked being his eyes and ears at court, and carrying the responsibility of their family's honour.

His father returning will ease this burden, but it has also made him realise just how much he didn't want to be at the palace anymore. Perhaps he never really had, because even now things will be different Jimin still doesn’t want it.

‘Yes, I’m comforted.’ He answers at last. ‘But mostly I’m relieved. I intend to resign from my position and take a post away from the city. I'm done with the court. I wrote and told you so and I hope you know I meant it.’

Park Jiwon smiles at him, then he lifts his pipe and takes a deep draw.

‘Your message to me was quite forceful.’

‘Because I'm done. I don't want to be here anymore.’

‘Why?’

‘I…hate it here.’ Jimin answers. ‘The last time I was happy was when I was studying at Sungkyunkwan. And that was like a sanctuary because in so many ways it was separate from the palace. I'm grateful for a lot of the opportunities being here gave me.’ He sighs, fiddles with his sleeve. ‘But I've always loathed the rest of it.’

‘Loathed is a strong word.’

‘Well, it's true.’

His father rests his pipe on his leg, then gestures for Jimin to pour them drinks.

‘I think it's a shame, Jimin-ah, a shame that you will be going before you reach the great heights that you could.’

‘Not to me.’

‘No?’

Jimin pushes the cup across the table to his father, he waits for him to pick it up and drink and then he does the same, covering his mouth as he does.

‘No.’ He answers. ‘The shame would be being trapped here.’

‘Trapped.’ His father chuckles into his drink. ‘Your language has become quite romantic in my absence, all this passion suddenly.’

Jimin downs the rest of his liquor.

‘Do you know what I realised?’ He asks and his father shakes his head. ‘I realised that it was funny that you could leave. You could vanish off and follow your desires to some other place, you could leave the palace and all it's a mess for me to deal with. You could leave, but I couldn't.’

His father smiles at him.

‘Why couldn't you leave?’ He asks, one eyebrow slightly lifted.

‘Because–’

‘Did I ever tell you not to?’

Jimin cuts off in disbelief. He stares at his father’s face, now contorted in an amused expression and he realises his father has never told him not to.

In fact, now he stops to think, he realises he’s rarely told him what to do at all. Not outright anyway. He's made it clear what he values, what he believes in, the sort of man he thought Jimin should grow up to become– but he hasn't ever told him what to do. Not since Jimin was a child.

‘Shit.’ Jimin huffs. ‘You bastard.’

‘What's that?’

‘You never told me I couldn't leave.’

‘No.’ His father smiles. ‘I didn't.’

‘You couldn't have told me that?’ Jimin snaps. ‘Did that really have to be a life lesson, if you knew I was unhappy here?’

His father shrugs, reaching down to relight his pipe and raise it to his lips once again.

‘I said it would be a shame if you left, Jimin-ah, and I stand by it. It's a great shame. But not for you, I think you will find greatness anywhere. The shame is for the kingdom, that it would be a far better place if you were a powerful man in our government. You would make a far better chief councillor than our current one, for example.’

‘Perhaps better than him.’ Jimin smiles. ‘But not better than any others because my heart is not in it.’

‘And where is your heart?’

‘I'm not really sure yet.’ He says. ‘Somewhere I feel like I can spread my wings.’

‘I look forward to seeing what you do.’

Park Jiwon smiles and they both drink and then sit in companionable silence.

Jimin feels the weight on his chest easing. He’d already made up his mind to do what he wanted to, with or without his father's approval, but it feels better to do so with it.

Though he does feel a little foolish to discover it was his own hands holding onto the chains keeping him here all this time.

But then, what if he’d left the palace last summer, or the summer before? He would've been gone before Jungkook returned. He can only feel grateful he didn't miss meeting him again.

Maybe he wouldn't even want to leave as much as he does if it wasn't for Jungkook changing his perspective. He wasn't happy before, but there wasn't really anything else he wanted to do more. Jungkook had opened him up to things he hadn’t even thought of, let alone longed for. He can’t help but think of that small, sweet promise from Jungkook’s lips that he wanted them to make some sort of life together, even if it wouldn’t be easy.

‘You know that I also meant what else I said in that letter. Don't you?’ He says into the quiet evening air. ‘My thoughts may no longer be murderous but I plan to take Jeon Jongseon down.’

‘I never doubted you meant it.’ His father turns to look at him. ‘Now I’m here though, I can’t help feeling that your conviction seems personal? Your anger seems not purely based on his treasonous attempts to overthrow the King?’

‘You're right, as always.’ Jimin sighs. ‘He’s hurt me personally. And somebody I care about.’

‘His son? Jungkook?’

Jimin stares at him, wondering how on earth he deduced that and also how honest he can be with his father.

‘Yes.’ He admits.

‘That's good. I always liked Jungkook.’ His father smiles and Jimin looks at him in surprise.

He never really had the impression his father knew anything more of Jungkook than who he was.

‘You…did?’

‘Yes.’ Park Jiwon smiles. ‘He’s very…spirited. I think he was around ten when he and his father first came here, not long after the Queen was invested. He rather made a name for himself for getting into places he shouldn't. Always being found out of bounds, hidden in little corners and secret nooks and crannies. I suspect he has an unparalleled knowledge of the palace grounds.’

‘He really does.’ Jimin can't help but laugh softly.

‘I think it was always obvious to most that Jeon Jungkook was a better man than his father.’

‘He is.’

‘Well then,’ his father smiles, ‘I’m glad he has you on his side.’

‘Me too…’

‘And Jeon Jongseon? What do you plan to do?’

Jimin fiddles with the ring on his finger, Jungkook’s ring, turning it around and around, the smooth, cool metal circling his skin.

‘If you will allow me to be so bold as to command you…’ Jimin says, ‘I think you should stay out of it. I think you should keep your hands clean and look out for the King. I will take Jeon Jongseon down, but I have no real interest in what happens after he falls, nor in rebuilding the government. That’s what you should concern yourself with.’

His father smiles then he nods.

‘He offered me a ministerial role, you know. His majesty did. I don't want it, of course. Never did. But I think I will take it.’

‘I hope doing so won’t make you miserable.’ Jimin sighs.

‘Ah, no.’ His father laughs, ‘It's more a case of me making the rest of those old crones in government miserable. And you're right…though I never asked you to stay here, I always knew you did so for me. I can stay for you now, it's only fair. And the King will need me, I think, before the end.’

~~~

~~🗡~~

~~~

Jungkook feels a little mindless as he strides through the streets on the cheapside of Hanseong. Or, perhaps more accurately single minded.

He can think only of Jimin waiting for him in that room in Yoongi’s inn.

They have barely seen each other in weeks and the message Jimin sent saying he would be there that evening was like a beacon through the darkness. Something to hold onto and tug Jungkook out of the depths he feels he's drowning in.

He wants to wrap himself in Jimin, bury himself in Jimin, be completely, wilfully lost in Jimin; the anticipation of his touch burns over Jungkook’s skin.

He feels fraught, everything is too much– the entire Kingdom is too much– he just wants Jimin.

So, perhaps he is a little too rough when he pushes the door aside, striding across the floor of their room and pulling Jimin towards him with a hand around his throat and straight into a kiss.

But he needed this so badly. Needed to be lost in another body and shut everything else out.

Jimin doesn’t seem to have any complaints about the way Jungkook handles him, in fact quite the opposite. He opens his mouth willingly and Jungkook groans into it with relief as he pushes his tongue inside and tastes him.

He moves both of his hands to either side of Jimin’s head, holding him, tipping his jaw upward so he can take exactly what he needs. Then walks them backwards as they kiss, not looking where they’re going, just moving until they thump into one of the walls and he can use the resistance of it to force Jimin closer against him.

‘Missed you,’ he kisses the words into Jimin’s skin. ‘Needed this.’

He snakes one of his hands downwards, tugging at the neckline of Jimin’s hanbok, roughly pulling the layers of silken fabric apart to get to more of the skin he craves. He feels Jimin shifting to help him, untying the sash at his waist, then his fingers are at Jungkook’s clothes, pulling them away too.

Jungkook leans down and bites his neck, then sucks a mark there, then another.

Jimin hisses, his hands gripping into Jungkook’s shoulders.

‘Too much?’ Jungkook lifts his head.

‘No, it’s okay–’

‘Good. Fuck, I need you.’

‘Take whatever you want.’ Jimin looks far too soft for such words, a small smile on his face as he reaches out to cup Jungkook’s cheek. ‘I can more than handle you.’

Jungkook stares at him for a second, at his beautiful, wicked Jimin, leaning against the wall with his clothes half ripped off of his shoulders and his lips already bitten red.

And then he smashes their mouths back together.

It is truly blissful the way he doesn’t have to think of anything but them, of Jimin’s sweet sounds and soft skin, the lewd moans from his lips and the wanton way he lets Jungkook devour him without any resistance.

He doesn't feel in the mood to be graceful about it, to build up in any way, but rather he just takes what he wants, just as Jimin invited him to.

Jungkook tugs Jimin across the floor and bends him over the dresser, pulling away the last of his clothing as he does so. He's too impatient to pause to get what they need, too hungry to do anything else but drop to his knees and bury his face into Jimin’s ass, pressing the flat of his tongue straight to his hole.

Jimin lets out a choked sound, one of his fists thumping into the wood. He is all at once pliant but still thrashing at the touch of Jungkook’s tongue pressed against him. Jungkook spits on him messily, one hand gripped into the flesh of Jimin’s ass cheek, the other moving up to join his tongue, his thumb circling the tight muscle of Jimin’s now wet hole.

It doesn't take long until he can slip a finger inside him, then another. Nor long until he can feel Jimin pushing back against him, arching his back, half riding Jungkook’s face, holding onto the edge of the dresser for purchase

‘I’m ready, you can fuck me.’ He pants, still pushing his hips back to meet Jungkook’s tongue.

Jungkook grins, moves to the side a little to bite the flesh of his ass cheek.

‘What if I’m just enjoying doing this?’ He murmurs into his skin. ‘You’re quite desperate, perhaps tormenting you is enough for me?’

‘No,’ Jimin whines. Then he turns his upper body, craning to see Jungkook just so he can pout at him.

‘It isn’t enough.’ He says. ‘For you or for me. You said you needed me. Don’t you? So fuck me, like this, as hard as you can…that’s what you need.’

And Jungkook can’t really argue with that. His cock is achingly hard, he’s barely touched it, too intent on losing himself in Jimin.

He almost staggers as he gets to his feet.

Jimin waits, spread over the dresser, ass in the air and Jungkook steps closer to press up behind him eagerly. He slides his cock between his ass cheeks, groaning at the touch and the warmth.

‘The oil is over there.’ Jimin points vaguely.

‘Don’t need it, you're loose. There’s spit–’

‘You can fuck harder if you use the oil. Get it.’

Jungkook gets it.

He covers his cock, stroking the oil down the length, then pours some over Jimin too, deliberately dripping it at the crease of his ass and letting the oil run down over his skin.

‘You look obscene.’

‘Just fuck me, come on.’

He pushes the head of his cock against Jimin’s hole, feeling the way Jimin tenses in anticipation as he presses against him. He pushes backward a little when Jungkook pauses, and he grins and holds him still by his hip.

‘Jungkook–’

But as pretty as Jimin’s whines are, he’s too impatient himself to play games. Both of them moan loudly as he moves forward, sinking inside. He’s slow, but doesn’t stop, pushing forward until they are flesh to flesh and then he leans down to kiss the length of Jimin’s spine.

Jimin looks devastating like this, his face tipped to the side and resting on his arm, eyes screwed shut, his cheek tinted red. Sweat beads at his hairline and down the base of his back.

The sight of his cock inside him is enough to drive Jungkook insane. He pulls back a little, watching the obscene sight, messy and oil slicked, then moves slowly forward again.

Jimin groans.

‘You okay?’ Jungkook kisses his shoulder.

‘Mm.’

‘Can I?’

‘Please.’

And that’s all Jungkook needs to let go.

He fucks him hard and rough over the dresser, hands gripped into the flesh of Jimin’s hips and looking down at him in awe. At the way Jimin just takes him, spread out and moaning, his small hands gripped to the edge of the wood in front of him.

His muscles burn, his body warm and he feels delightfully, perfectly empty of anything but Jimin.

He’s so focussed he doesn’t even properly realise that he’s about to come, not until it’s too late and he’s already halfway there, hips stuttering as he fucks his cum deep inside him and Jimin swears through his moans.

But it doesn’t even dampen him, he’s still hard, so he just pulls Jimin upwards and against him, wrapping his arms around him and carrying on moving.

‘We can–’

‘No, I’m good, come here.’

He moves slower now, a little sensitive but only in a way that makes him gasp, little prickles dancing across his skin. He angles himself for Jimin, hitting slow and deep exactly where he needs him. Jimin turns his head and Jungkook holds him by the jaw to kiss him, his other hand snaking around his body and around Jimin’s cock. He whines as Jungkook strokes him.

‘Feel so good, Jimin, you feel so good.’

‘Yeah…’

‘Love you.’

‘I know.’

Jimin opens his eyes, staring up at him as his body shudders and Jungkook grips his jaw tighter. He groans as Jimin’s expression changes, as his eyes roll a little as he cums and the breath he exhales is right into Jungkook’s mouth. He watches him hungrily, as Jimin trembles and shakes in Jungkook’s hold, his cum spurting across the hand that still works his cock slowly.

Then he goes limp and Jungkook holds him, kissing his shoulder gently.

‘Love you too.’ Jimin mumbles at some point as Jungkook manoeuvres him into bed.

~~🗡~~

Jungkook doesn't remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembers is Jimin riding him, both of them tired by then, the pace slow while Jimin leaned down to kiss him.

He assumes they both passed out afterwards, it was already the early hours of the morning.

Now, he wakes to Jimin shouting.

He's thrashing in the sheets, one of his arms flies out and hits Jungkook across the cheek.

It's clear he's having a nightmare.

Jungkook rolls over and pulls him closer, gently holding Jimin's arms in his to stop him throwing them about so wildly.

But instead of soothing him Jimin goes rigid.

‘No! No, no.’ He starts fighting against Jungkook's touch, struggling to free himself and hitting him. ‘No!’

His eyes fly open.

‘It's me, it's okay–’

Jimin looks more terrified as he stares at him, he pushes away, getting tangled in the sheets and starting to yell again.

Worried he'll hurt himself Jungkook pulls him back, holding him tighter so he can't move and then Jimin screams.

Jungkook loosens his hold in shock, but the sound also seems to have properly woken up Jimin who falls silent and finally goes still.

He lays on his back, looking a little dazed and breathing heavily.

‘Jimin? Are you okay? Are you awake?’

He shuffles closer again but doesn't touch him. Jimin rolls his head to the side, he sucks in a breath that sounds a little like a gasp.

‘I'm okay.’

‘You had a nightmare?’

‘Yeah…’

‘Can I…hold you?’ He asks.

Jimin frowns.

‘Will you just give me a moment? The dream is lingering a little…I need to…just breathe.’

‘Okay.’

Jungkook stays on his side watching him, watching as Jimin regulates his breathing, his fists clenched into the sheets.

‘Sorry.’ He says after a while.

‘Don't be.’ Jimin shakes his head softly. ‘It happens a lot.’

‘I didn't know that.’

‘They've been better for a while. I guess there's a lot on my mind. And I haven't seen you in a while, maybe that triggered it.’

‘Why would that trigger it?’

Jimin's eyes widen, as if realising what he just said.

Jungkook feels a shiver cross his skin.

‘Is it me?’ He whispers. ‘Do I give you nightmares?’

‘No.’

‘Jimin, be honest with me.’

Jimin squeezes his eyes shut. He still looks pale.

‘It isn't you…but I've had them since I was young. Since…I was arrested. Over the knife. Since then.’

‘Oh.’

Jungkook doesn't know what to say. He rolls onto his back and they both lay there, looking up at the ceiling.

‘What did you dream of?’ He asks, not turning to look at Jimin.

He hears the other sigh softly.

‘I don't think–’

‘Please tell me. It's worse if you don't.’

‘Okay…you were tying me up…and you put me in the rice chest. The one they…you know. And I was begging you to let me out but you wouldn't. You just walked away.’

Jungkook feels like his knife is stuck between his ribs. He covers his face with both of his hands.

‘Jimin, that's horrible.’ He says. ‘Is that what you think of me? Inside?’

‘No!’

He hears Jimin move across the sheets and then he's there, curled against his side.

‘The dreams are so rarely about you, not specifically. This one was unusual, that's why I said it was probably just because we were together after a while…’

‘What are they normally like?’

‘Well…often I’m in the prison, or…it's just always about being trapped.’

Jungkook hears the way his own breath shakes as he draws it in.

‘You feel trapped.’ He murmurs.

Like a little bird in a cage.

‘Dreams don't always have to mean something.’ Jimin murmurs.

‘But what if they do? What if yours are visions. Of me. What if I'm truly a bad omen–’

‘No!’ Jimin pushes himself up onto his elbows and pries Jungkook's hands away from his face. ‘They're not. You're not. I love you–’

‘And what does that change?’

‘Jungkook-ah,’ Jimin looks sad, stroking Jungkook's cheek. ‘I told you the truth because I plan to sleep beside you for many more years. So that means you should know about the nightmares. I didn't tell you so it can be another stick for you to beat yourself with. Not everything has to mean anything.’

Jungkook finally looks back at him.

‘I'm sorry.’ He says. ‘That I did something so stupid it's still hurting you, all these years later.’

‘I forgave you a long time ago.’

‘You did?’

‘Yes.’ Jimin smiles at him. ‘Now say you love me back.’

‘I love you.’

‘Good.’

~~🗡~~

Jimin falls back to sleep but of course Jungkook doesn't. He lays there, one of his hands tangled in Jimin's hair.

The brief reprieve that fucking had given him has already long gone.

And looming above all the messy thoughts that fight for his attention, he thinks about how Jimin is going to leave. He’s going to leave the palace and he's going to ask him to go too– and Jungkook is going to let him down.

He would have done, he thinks, he would have gone too– he was desperate to go too– until the prince died.

Too many things have happened too quickly and Jungkook doesn't feel like he's had enough time to actually process any of them.

One moment he and Jimin were kissing in Lord Son's garden and everything seemed exciting and possible, as if there might be something joyful for him in this world, something foolish and careless and fun. He remembers holding Jimin after that first time, feeling almost euphoric in his arms.

But he should've known he wouldn't get to live a life like that.

He digs his thumb into Jimin's hair, circling the pad of it into the strands, soothed by the softness. Jimin is asleep with his cheek on his shoulder.

Jungkook feels heavy. He feels sad.

He wishes Yi Sun could've lived more before he died. Or that Jungkook hadn't been so powerless to give him a better life.

It makes him think of his own son and he's terrified of that same powerlessness. How he wishes to protect him but doesn’t actually know how to. He even wonders whether he’d be better off if Jungkook just stayed away from him entirely.

And then there’s Jimin.

He made promises to Jimin too.

Jimin, a bird trapped in a cage longing to spread its wings. Tied up and trapped in a rice chest, put there by Jungkook.

~~🗡~~

‘How has it been, with your father?’

Jungkook lets out a strange laugh, then a small scoff. He stays on his back, looking up at the ceiling and not at Jimin.

‘He's been pleasant to me.’

‘Oh…’

‘But he’s never nice to me, never has been. Or not like this anyway…it's honestly unnerving. Like some kind of game he’s playing with me.’

‘How so?’

‘Well, I feel as though he knows that I know what he did. If I truly had been assaulted by thieves, as I told him I had, he wouldn't care in the least. In fact he'd be scolding me every chance he got for my weakness and stupidity. Instead he's been nothing but gentle with me, no rebuke, just this terrifying smile.’ Jungkook sighs, his hands dropping to the bed and twisting into the sheets. ‘It's like we're both playing this game with each other, as if we both know but are both just waiting for the other to make a mistake. It's as unnerving as it is exhausting.’

‘I'm sorry,’ Jimin murmurs. ‘I wish I could help you more.’

‘You can't.’

‘I know–’

‘-but you do,’ Jungkook rolls closer, onto his belly, creeping his fingers across the space between them until they meet Jimin’s hip. ‘You do just by being here.’

‘I…have an idea how else I could help.’ Jimin looks back at him, eyes searching his face. ‘I’ve been thinking of how we could…stop your father, without it harming you–’

‘No.’

‘You don’t even know what I’m going to say!’

‘I don’t need to, the answer is no.’

‘But why?’

‘Because it’s dangerous. He’s dangerous. And not just to us but the whole court, you have no idea the depths his claws are sunk into everything around us.’

‘I do, and I’ve thought about it–’

‘And I’m telling you no!’

Jungkook pushes himself upright in the bed, kicking his legs off the edge and running one of his hands through his hair. He feels the irritation prickling across every piece of his skin. It isn’t even just at what Jimin is saying but at him bringing it here. To this one tiny little bit of peace that Jungkook so desperately wanted and needed.

He just wanted to lie in Jimin’s arms and think of nothing.

But it’s Jimin, so of course he doesn't let things go.

‘Why don’t you want to stop him?’ He asks from behind Jungkook’s shoulder.

His voice is soft, tentative, but there’s a firmness to it too. A little anger just under the surface.

‘Of course I do!’

Jungkook doesn't turn around.

‘Do you really?’ Jimin pushes. ‘Or is that deep down you don’t want to go against him?’

‘It isn’t that simple.’

‘It is.’

‘No it isn’t!’ Jungkook turns around, folding his leg on the bed and meeting Jimin’s eyes.

Jimin stares back at him. He bites his lip.

‘If your father asked you to do something tomorrow, something awful, what would you do?’

‘I–’

The answer is he truly doesn’t know and he sees the shock of that register on Jimin’s face.

‘Jungkook…’ he whispers, ‘after everything, how could you want to please him?’

‘Don’t twist it like that. I don’t want to please him…it isn’t that.’

‘Then what is it? Please try and explain because I’m scared that you’re saying exactly what I feared that you would.’

His doubt hurts and Jungkook turns away.

‘After he tried to hurt me, I wanted to go home so that I could keep an eye on what he was up to, so I could think about what to do next.’ He says. ‘But things are different now the prince has died, aren’t they? Because my aunt is vulnerable. Without the prince, she’s in danger and I fear my father is the only one who can truly protect her.’

‘That isn’t true! It’s your own father that wished to depose her, even before the prince died!’

‘That just doesn’t make sense, Jimin, she is his key to power. He’s nothing without her.’

‘That hasn’t been the case in a long time.’ Jimin snaps. ‘Maybe when he was some random country lord, but he’s already far beyond that. You know that’s true. He doesn't need her anymore and he would happily get rid of her too!’

‘No he wouldn’t–’

‘He would! In fact I know that he will. One day soon he will try and get rid of her and then maybe you will believe me.’

‘It isn’t a case of believing you.’

Jimin turns to look out of the window at the end of it, his shoulders slumped.

‘You wouldn’t even listen to what I had to say.’

Jungkook closes the distance between them, hoping that Jimin doesn’t push him away when he reaches out for him. He doesn’t. He lets Jungkook pull him back against his chest and kiss his shoulder.

‘I can’t.’ He whispers.

Jimin scoffs but doesn’t say anything else. Jungkook threads his arms around his waist, pulling him tighter into his body. Jimin sinks into it.

‘Jimin?’

‘Hm?’

‘I think…I’ve already broken my promise to you, haven't I?’

‘What do you mean?’

Jimin tries to turn in Jungkook’s arms but he doesn’t let him, he just holds him tighter.

‘I mean…what I said about making a life with you, I don’t see how I can do it.’

‘We don’t need to think about that now.’

‘But I already know that we can’t…’

Jimin tries to move again and Jungkook wraps an arm around his chest, pinning his arms down to hold him still.

‘Will you let me look at you–’

‘No, I don’t want you to, I want you to listen–’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, let me–’

He manages to jerk his elbow back into Jungkook’s ribs and then pull away when the impact loosens his hold. He turns and glares at Jungkook.

‘Don’t do that to me,’ he bites, ‘just because you’re stronger.’

‘I’m just ashamed to look at you.’

Jimin softens immediately.

‘Jungkook-ah,’ he reaches up to hold his cheek. ‘You haven’t broken anything.’

Jungkook looks at him for a moment, then he squeezes his eyes shut.

‘I can’t leave here. The palace.’ He says. ‘I won’t.’

‘Not right now–’

‘Not ever.’

‘You’re not in the right mind to think about it now.’

Jungkook opens his eyes and immediately wishes he hadn’t when he sees the sadness in Jimin’s.

‘I am.’ He whispers. ‘I know that you want to go. That you were going to tell me so, before the prince died. I think that you should. And I know that I can’t–’

‘You can–’

‘I can’t.’ Jungkook pushes and they stare at each other.

‘You wouldn’t come with me?’ Jimin says.

‘I can’t leave my father.’

Jimin sucks in a breath, almost as if he is surprised. Then he lets it out slowly.

Those words sit heavily between them. He wonders if Jimin knows in what way he means them. Honestly, he barely knows himself.

‘We don't need to talk about this now.’ Jimin says instead.

He strokes Jungkook's cheek once more before turning and settling back against his chest.

~~~

~~🗡~~

~~~

Sometimes, Jimin tries to piece together when everything changed; at what moment did he begin to trust Jungkook, even when he still didn't understand him?

Because the truth is that he was always drawn to him, right from the moment they met nearly a decade ago. He can’t deny to himself that he always cared about Jungkook, always watched him, always wanted his attention.

But it was also true for a long time that he didn't necessarily like him, and he certainly didn't trust him.

When he picks it all apart, he thinks that changed when they stayed at Lord Yoon’s and Jungkook woke him up before dawn so they could ride their horses on the beach.

It was the first time Jimin truly noticed that Jungkook was doing something for him and without wanting anything in return. He wanted to make Jimin smile, he wanted him to feel free, and he also knew Jimin well enough to know that it was something he would love to do.

Jimin had already shown he'd get on his knees for him without all that. Jungkook didn’t need to please him for his own gratification, so this was something more.

It was a small moment, but it was the one in which Jimin realised he trusted him and that, despite everything else that might be between them, that they were on each other’s side.

He wants to stay there at Jungkook's side, he wants that trust between them. He wants him.

And yet he still decides not to listen to him about his father.

~~🗡~~

‘So,’ Jimin asks, looking around at the group sitting around the messy desk in Yoongi’s small office. ‘Are we ready?’

‘I am, for my part.’ Namjoon answers. ‘It was actually worryingly easy to alter the records, which is something I will be looking into changing once it no longer benefits us…’

Jimin laughs softly.

‘And you, hyung?’ He asks Hoseok, who grins back.

‘Got every last wretched thing on your list.’ He answers. ‘Again, rather too easily perhaps. This kingdom really is a little rotten, huh?’

‘Well, hopefully if we succeed with our plans it will begin the scourge to clear it out.’

Jimin sighs and rubs his forehead tiredly. Everything is progressing well but somehow it's all steeped in a looming uneasiness.

Their plan was always a little morally dubious, considering it involved the Queen, but that was before the Crown Prince died. Now he had, carrying on with it weighs even more heavily on Jimin's conscience.

‘Aren't you going to ask me, hyung?’ Seungho whines, poking at Jimin's shoulder.

‘Yes, I was getting to you.’

‘Well, I sucked Minister Hong’s soul out of his cock, that idiot is going to do whatever I suggest.’ He grins.

‘Jesus Christ, Seungho, must you talk like that?’ Namjoon groans.

‘You keep your scary catholic spirits to yourself, Namjoon-ssi. I'm just updating on my mission.’

Namjoon looks ready to start a theological debate in response and Jimin waves his hands to quiet both of them.

‘That isn't quite the plan I suggested…but if it works it works.’ He says.

‘You told me to distract him and I did.’ Seungho shrugs. ‘You didn't tell me not to do it in a way that was at least fun for me…’

Jimin looks up at Yoongi who is leaning against the wall, his face typically unreadable.

‘Are we ready, Yoongi-yah? Have we done everything?’

Yoongi frowns, holding Jimin's eye contact. Then he nods.

‘I think we have. I've gone through it over and over and I can't find a hole. I think we're ready.’

‘Well. I suppose it's time then.’ Jimin says.

‘Are you sure it's the right thing to do, to keep Jungkook-ssi out of this?’ Hoseok asks, resting his chin on his long fingers.

Jimin looks over at him, feeling his chest tighten. Trust Hoseok to cut right to it.

‘No.’ Jimin sighs. ‘I don't know, honestly. But…it didn't seem fair to ask him to work against his own father, even if he deserves to.’

‘Don't you think he'll be angry with you, when he finds out?’

‘I think he probably will,’ he sighs. ‘But…I wanted to save him from having another thing on his conscience.’

‘It's very you, hyung.’ Seungho smiles, nudging his shoulder. ‘Always liked playing the hero.’

Jimin just smiles at him. But it all sticks in his throat a little.

Because he hadn't quite told the truth, which is that he knows he's doing the wrong thing.

Jungkook would hate what they're doing. He will hate it. He would hate even more that Jimin is doing something behind his back. Jimin knows that.

But Jungkook is never going to have a chance to live a decent life with his father's power over him, and Jimin isn't sure whether Jungkook will ever have the strength to get rid of him himself.

If Jimin can do it for him, he can give him that freedom. Even if the cost is Jungkook not trusting him anymore, at least he will be free.

The others leave slowly, until it's just Jimin and Yoongi sitting on each side of his desk, a bottle of soju between them. The liqueur is exceptional quality, somewhat antithetical to the surroundings.

‘What if we fail?’ Jimin sighs into the quietness.

‘We won't.’ Yoongi smiles. ‘I'm too good at this.’

~~~

~~🗡~~

~~~

Years ago, when Jungkook and his father used to have their weekly attendance with the Queen, Jungkook remembers noticing that she never drank her tea.

She used to serve them all from the delicate tea set arranged on the tables between them, pouring it with all the grace a Queen should have.

But she never drank it. Not in front of them.

Even serving it in her rooms– surrounded by her own servants– even then she didn't trust them enough to drink the tea.

Jungkook remembers how he thought that was strange. Despite how they talked to each other and seemed to depend on each other, she obviously didn't trust his father.

He can't help but note the irony as he sits with his father now– and doesn't drink his tea.

He's barely eaten or drunk anything in their home since he's been back, not since his father tried to have him killed.

It would be a lot riskier to poison him, Jungkook knows that, it would be far harder to dream up excuses for. Not like leaving him beaten and disgraced in the gutter as he had tried to do. But he doesn't feel as though he can or should let his guard down either.

After all, his father tried to have him killed. He wanted him dead.

He didn't even care how it was done, how Jungkook suffered, or if he was tortured or hurt. His own father was happy for that to happen if it served him.

Those convictions don't just go away. Jungkook is still living side by side with a man that wants him dead.

Jungkook looks at his father across the table between them, at the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and his too-long fingernails wrapped around his cup.

‘You’ve been quiet, Jungkook. Is everything okay?’

‘Have I?’

Jungkook tries to keep his face impassive.

It's a game, all of it is a game. Jungkook has always been quiet. He cannot remember a single conversation he's ever had with his father in which he wasn't watching his tongue. Or even in which he initiated any sort of conversation, or did much but stand with his head bowed and answer questions.

He's always been quiet, it isn't something his father would ever remark on.

‘Have you been unwell?’ Jeon Jongseon pushes. ‘Still recovering from the unfortunate incident?’

‘No, father. I'm quite well.’

‘Is that so?’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘Perhaps you’ve been reflecting on the mistakes you made then?’

‘I have.’

‘And with Park Jimin?’

‘Father?’

‘Have you reflected on your mistakes with him? In thinking there was some worthwhile friendship for you there?’

‘I never tried to be his friend, father. I simply didn't see him as an enemy.’

Jeon Jongseon scoffs.

‘Well, he is. And with his bastard father returned we will need to act. I assume you know that? We will need to act fast, before Park Jiwon manages to tear apart everything we've worked hard for.’

‘Yes father, I know.’

‘And will you be on my side?’

Jungkook looks up at him, at the cold eyes meeting his own and the barely concealed sneer on his father's face.

‘Of course.’ He answers. ‘As I always have been.’

~~🗡~~

‘Would her majesty permit me to speak freely?’

The Queen looks across at Jeon Jongseon. She's arranged as neatly as always, sat before the screen in her rooms, her hands tucked into the front of her robes and an untouched cup of tea steaming on the engraved table before her.

She looks exactly as she always does, apart from the plain, pale mourning clothes she still wears.

‘Of course, brother, you know I value your honesty and your council.’

Jungkook's hand tightens on his knee. The Queen never addresses his father as brother. Though the term would be correct in many families, an acknowledgement of him as the husband of her older sister– it isn't correct here. Not when she is the Queen and so highly outranks him.

He frowns a little at the implication, the softness of it, even vulnerability. He wonders if it was a slip of the tongue.

His father doesn't seem to notice, too set on his own agenda.

‘You are gracious,’ he says, ‘I hope you know I always talk and act with your best interests at the heart of everything. That everything I do is shaped while thinking of your wellbeing and of the safety and honour of our family.’

‘Of course.’ The Queen nods. ‘I have relied on you often over the years.’

His father smiles. Jungkook tilts his head just slightly to look at him.

‘Well then. Please know that my advice to you always comes from that place, even if it may not sound like it.’

‘Please go ahead.’

‘It is why I come to you now, with a heavy heart, and advise that you encourage the King to abdicate.’

Jeon Jongseon bows his head, his face the perfect picture of humility. Jungkook cannot but stare at him, his heart beating in his chest.

‘You support the rebellion against him?’ The Queen says.

‘Of course not!’ Jeon Jongseon says. ‘Her majesty knows how tirelessly I have worked these past months to calm the storm against the King. How I have fought the rebels constantly and done my utmost to protect the royal family. But things have reached a point I think even I am powerless to divert now.’

He lies so smoothly it makes Jungkook feel queasy. He would believe him himself, had he not been by his father's side over those months where he not only supported the rebels but led them.

‘If you do not support them, how could you possibly suggest I go along with their demands?’ The Queen asks.

‘Because I am thinking of you. Of your safety. The rebellion is too great to be quashed now, the officials of this kingdom cannot let the King ignore a petition that the entire Council has backed. That would be too disastrous a precedent to set.’

‘And how will they force him out? He is the King.’

‘Prince Seokjin has amassed an army, gathered already at the south of the city. He is supported by most of the Lords and the council. Once the King calls the council to the chamber to discuss the matter, if he doesn't acquiesce, Prince Seokjin will seize power by force.’

Jungkook reels at the revelation. He knew of Seokjin’s involvement in the rebellion, but he had always assumed it was a kind of passive agreement. Having gathered an army and being prepared to seize the throne by force is so far from that. Jungkook wonders how he has been so preoccupied that he did not even know that of his own close friend.

Or that his own friend would do something that would put Jungkook’s family at risk.

The Queen is silent for a moment, she frowns ahead, not looking at either of them.

‘And you truly think there is nothing to be done to stop them now?’ She says eventually.

‘I wish it were so.’ Jeon Jongseon bows. ‘Which is why my advice is to abdicate. Though it pains me to say it. If you took that route I could protect you and the Princess. I could help you flee from the palace to safety. Perhaps you would even find some peace in it. Getting away from here…’

Jungkook stares at him. He can only assume that the King’s resistance, strengthened by the support from Park Jiwon’s return, is causing them to flounder a little as they try to oust him.

‘And the King?’

‘There is hope he could be spared, if he were to agree to the demands.’

‘What about Consort Park?’

Jeon Jongseon frowns, he tilts his head slightly, as if he is taken aback by the question.

‘What about her?’

‘She is pregnant with the King's child. A possible heir to the throne. What will happen to her?’

‘Does it matter? I am thinking only of your safety and–’

‘Of course it matters!’ The Queen shouts. ‘I am the Queen. Every woman in the palace is under my protection, that is one of my most important roles. Do you think I take it lightly? That I would flee and leave Consort Park to her fate?’

‘There is no reason for her not to be safe, if she–’

‘You know that isn't true. They will kill her and the child.’

‘Your majesty, I must beg you to–’

‘No.’ The Queen cuts him off. ‘I will not follow your advice. My place is here. By the King's side.’

‘But what about yourself and the princess? Surely, as a mother, you should choose safety for both of you?’

The Queen looks as though he slapped her, even the tops of her cheeks flush red.

Nobody speaks for a moment.

‘I am a mother to all in the palace.’

‘But–’

‘Could we not go to the King?’ Jungkook takes the opportunity to interrupt. ‘Warn him that an army has been raised to oppose him?’

‘Don't be foolish, Jungkook, you don't know what you're talking about.’ His father cuts him off angrily.

‘But you just mentioned the army in the south. You must have evidence, no?’

Jeon Jongseon looks at Jungkook with barely concealed loathing.

‘It is speculation. Hearsay. But a good example of a likely threat to her majesty, whose safety is my main concern.’

‘So, it is not confirmed?’ The Queen cuts in.

‘No–’

‘But you just said that it was?’ Jungkook pushes.

His father looks between both of them, half spluttering, anger carved into his features. Then he lets out an angry shout and slaps his hands down onto the floor.

The Queen flinches.

‘It seems my advice is not as valued as you implied.’ He snaps. ‘I only hope I am able to protect you, your majesty, if things go the way I fear!’

Then he stands to his feet and bows, turning and storming out of the room. Jungkook gets hurriedly to his feet, bows at the Queen, and follows him.

~~🗡~~

‘That stupid bitch!’ His father hisses as he strides away across the courtyard.

He doesn't even wait until they have left the palace to speak so boldly. Perhaps he’s so secure in his power by now that he doesn't even feel the need to be discreet.

‘Father, don't speak so–’

‘And you!’

He rounds on Jungkook, striding back a few paces to get in his face.

‘Truly showing your allegiance are you not! Suggesting we warn the King of the rebellion I have so carefully placed under his feet!’

‘But if the Queen is in danger–’

Jungkook's words are cut off by his father striking him around the face.

‘I am disgusted to call you my son. Not only are you an idiot, but you have no proper sense of loyalty! No filial piety. You disgust me.’

Jungkook takes a step backwards.

It's strange, he usually feels cold when his father speaks to him like this; like it's a wave that washes over him without breaking.

Tonight though, he actually feels it and it makes him angry.

He also can't help thinking that his father looks a little pathetic. Shouting and blustering because he hadn't got his way, because losing power frightens him above all things.

And something else is falling into place, something he knew deep down all along. Because his father just turned on the Queen, exactly as Jimin had said that he would.

‘You should've known,’ Jungkook says, ‘that I would always choose her.’

That stops his father. His face slackens, arms dropping to his sides.

And then he scoffs.

‘Then you are every bit as stupid as I always said you were. Because the Queen will fall, and if you stand beside her– so will you.’

His father turns and strides away across the courtyard.

Jungkook lifts the back of his hand and wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth.

There are a few people scattered around, a small group of officials paused on the path ahead as if unsure whether to turn away or not. Jungkook bows at them, barely raising his head, and then hurries away.

~~🗡~~

He doesn't go home. Instead, he crosses the palace grounds to the east, feet treading the well worn paths to Seokjin and Taehyung’s quarters.

It's evening, most of the pathways quiet and dark, with only a few guards patrolling and the last of the day's servants hurrying about.

Jungkook notices some subtle differences as he approaches the prince's rooms for the first time in weeks, things only somebody that knew the palace so well would realise.

The guards at the gate are different and there are more of them than usual. And there are six more armed men sitting inside the courtyard by Taehyung’s residence. More new men guard the front of Seokjin’s hanok.

Jungkook's chest feels tight as he takes the steps, waiting for the servants to announce him and show him inside.

So it's true then, he thinks as he waits.

When he's shown inside a moment later it's only Seokjin there. He's sitting behind his desk, his robes arranged neatly around him, waiting for Jungkook to enter.

It feels different immediately, something tense in the air and a good deal more formality than Jungkook is used to feeling between them.

He rarely gets officially shown into Seokjin’s rooms as though he was a visitor, the servants all know who he is. More than half of them have witnessed the three of them in various unsavoury conditions.

Something is off about how Seokjin is sitting there. He looks every inch the Prince that Jungkook has spent most of their life forgetting he is.

‘Good evening, Jungkook-ah.’

They look at each other for a moment.

‘I was just with my father…’

‘Is that why you have a cut lip?’

Jungkook reaches up and touches the corner of his mouth.

‘Yes.’

Seokjin just nods.

‘Will you take a seat?’

‘Why are you doing it, hyung?’

‘What?’

‘Why are you part of it? Of deposing the King?’

‘You know why.’

‘No, hyung, I have just realised tonight that I don't. I think…I haven't really thought about any of it, I've been walking around half asleep, following my wretched father without questioning anything and then I just suddenly thought…why?’

Seokjin surveys him, his posture impeccable, one eyebrow raised.

‘I haven't done anything. I merely am who I am.’ He says. ‘If it were to be decided that it was best for the Kingdom that the King is deposed, then of course I am next in line–’

‘Bullshit!’

Jungkook strides across the room.

‘Excuse me?’

‘That's bullshit, hyung! You want this! You've been scheming with my father, you married who they told you to, you've been meeting with the country lords, you have an army. You want this! You're part of it! I just don't understand why?’

Jungkook is out of breath when he finishes, he feels desperate suddenly. He wants Seokjin to be the person he's known half his life, the hyung that he laughs and drinks with, that teases and scolds and loves him. Not the cold man that sits before him, looking at Jungkook with indifference.

‘It's a little rich of you to be judging me, don't you think? When you've been alongside your father the entire time too?’

‘It's…different. It's not like–’

‘Then you haven't been at the meetings, Jungkook-ah? Haven't helped with the threats and the blackmail? Delivered the gifts? Passed on the messages?’

‘I did. You know I did.’

‘And now you have cold feet?’

It isn't that simple, but Jungkook doesn't know how to explain. He's known for months what his father was planning. He himself barely knows how or what has changed only that something has.

‘You don't want to be King, hyung…surely you don't?’

He asks and Seokjin looks up at him with a strange smile on his face.

‘Of course I don't.’ He says.

‘Then why?’

‘Because I want to hurt him.’ Seokjin answers, a twisted half smile on his lips. ‘My brother. I want to see him hurt.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Do you forget who I am? Who our father was? Perhaps you forgot– like everybody else in this Kingdom– that he killed my mother with his bare hands? Well I didn’t forget, Jungkook-ah. Even if everybody wants me too. Did you know I was there? Me and Taehyung in the corner screaming at him to stop while he beat her to death and then laughed in our face!’

‘I know, hyungie, I know–’

‘You know? But you sit here and wish me to protect the King that wants us all to forgive him? Who has concocted some fantasy that the mad prince wasn’t mad at all. Well fuck him!’ Seokjin gets to his feet, striding to meet Jungkook in the middle of the floor. ‘Our brother wants to clear the name of our father, say it was all a lie, that he was innocent. He dragged us back from exile, forced us to forgive. But if it wasn't true then who killed our mother? Did I imagine what I saw? Wasn't what he did the actions of a man that deserved to be executed, even if he was the crown prince?’

Seokjin’s outstretched hand trembles as he points it at Jungkook.

‘You're right–’

Seokjin scoffs.

‘Well, so were you. I don't care about being King, I don’t. But I would do anything to harm the man that makes me pay my respects at that bastard's shrine!’

‘Hyung–’

‘No! Don't you judge me, Jungkook, don't you dare!’

‘I'm not.’ He raises his palms. ‘But don't you think the things we talk of are bigger than our own personal feelings? That it's more important for the Kingdom–’

‘No. I don't.’ Seokjin cuts him off. ‘And if you will stand there as my friend and tell me so, you can fuck off too.’

‘But are you not my friend?’ Jungkook asks. ‘Can I not want to protect those I love too? The Queen…’

‘It's too late.’

‘Is it truly?’

‘Yes.’

Jungkook finds his hand wrapped around the handle of his knife, tucked inside his clothes. Not because he has thoughts to do anything with it but because he needs the comfort of it at that moment.

‘You know that I will protect her.’ Jungkook says, meeting Seokjin’s eyes. ‘That I will stay by her side with my men, and so by the King's side too.’

‘Then once you leave here, I suppose we're on different sides. Aren't we?’

~~🗡~~

When Jungkook leaves the palace, Jimin is there. He’s standing across the main square from the palace gates, no longer dressed in his officials robes but in black and grey, the brim of his hat casting a shadow over his face.

He doesn't say anything, just stands there. He was waiting for Jungkook, that much is clear.

Suddenly, as Jungkook looks at him, he feels so tired, so utterly bone weary. It’s as though he forgets about how exhausted he is most of the time and then seeing Jimin reminds him of it, because Jimin is the only place he feels he ever gets any rest. Seeing him standing there, Jungkook longs for that peace.

Without saying anything Jimin turns and walks away, not toward his home but into the dark streets of Hanseong.

And Jungkook follows him.

~~🗡~~

‘Your father did this?’ Jimin reaches up, light fingers tracing the small swelling at the corner of Jungkook’s lips.

Jungkook nods.

They are in some dark alleyway off one of the many twisted, dark roads of Hanseong. Standing close together, not quite touching, so they could leap apart if somebody came by, but close enough that Jungkook can feel Jimin’s warmth. One of his hands rests on Jungkook’s shoulder, the other at his lip.

‘I saw him strike you.’ Jimin says. ‘In the courtyard. Saw him shout at you and strike you across the face.’

‘I’m sure many people did.’

‘Aren’t you…angry?’

‘Yes…’ Jungkook shrugs. ‘But he has done much worse.’

‘I hate him.’

‘I know, me too.’

Jimin’s face is still half in shadow from the wide brim of his hat but also the half light they stand in. Even so, Jungkook knows his expressions by now. He knows that Jimin wants to say more but is holding back.

‘Jimin?’

‘Yes?’

‘I…don’t want to go home.’

‘Then don’t.’ He whispers. ‘Come home with me.’

~~🗡~~

Sometimes, Jungkook marvels that there are so many thousand things he can feel about Jimin. That there are so many ways to feel love, to feel pleasure and safety and warmth. That they can be so many different people together– feel so many things– and all of them are true.

He loves to fuck Jimin hard and fast, he likes it even more when they’re somewhere they shouldn’t be, when there’s a risk of them being seen or heard. Loves to press Jimin into the wood panels of their secret passageway, or get on his knees behind a filthy old palace building. He loves to stuff his fingers into Jimin’s mouth to keep him quiet, watch his eyes roll and feel the bite of his teeth.

He likes it just as much when Jimin isn’t in the mood to be pulled around and he instead has that look in his eyes that makes Jungkook swallow his tongue. When Jimin holds him down and straddles him, Jungkook’s palms smoothing up his thick thighs. When he teases Jungkook, wraps his wicked fingers around his throat, or presses his silver knife into his skin until Jungkook loses his mind in the sharpness of it.

He loves all of those moments, every version of both of them.

But he loves Jimin like this most of all; just Jimin wrapped in his lover’s arms.

He loves him in the safety of Jimin’s room, where they don’t have to hurry. When Jimin is pliant and soft in his arms but it isn’t a game. It's just Jimin, soft and relaxed because he trusts him and because he loves him too.

Jimin’s room feels like a sanctuary. It is hung with the memories of all their most intimate moments.

And this moment joins the others.

‘I love you.’ He murmurs and Jimin lifts his head from his neck.

He keeps his eyes shut, a small frown on his face but he seeks Jungkook’s lips, joining them in a slow, deep kiss.

Jungkook curls his fingers into the hair at the nape of Jimin’s neck and he moans into his mouth. He has one hand on Jimin’s hips, guiding him, but neither of them are hurried. Happy to just be like this, Jimin in his lap, legs wrapped around him. Their bodies pressed together, sweat soaked and soft.

He thinks Jimin is moving as much to drag his own cock over Jungkook’s belly, running the wet tip over his flesh for his own pleasure, as much as he is riding Jungkook’s in any earnest way. But it feels good.

It feels good to just be so close. Hung in that moment of pleasure right before they both tip over the edge, a place where nothing else but them exists.

~~🗡~~

‘I never thought that I would fall for a man.’ Jungkook says, without really quite meaning to.

He’s propped above Jimin on his elbows, smoothing his long hair out across the sheets and admiring his beautiful, fucked out and sleepy face.

Jimin looks up at him, he almost looks amused, as if he would laugh if he couldn’t tell Jungkook was trying to be sweet.

‘No?’

‘Never thought I would fall for anyone, I suppose, but not a man…didn’t really know that I could…’

‘I know,’ Jimin’s smile is still so fond, even with a teasing light in his eyes. He squeezes the top of Jungkook’s arm, where it cages him into the sheets. ‘You’ve come a long way.’

‘We have.’

‘That’s true.’ Jimin sighs. ‘After all, I knew I could desire a man but I never really thought of much else. I certainly never imagined living my life with anybody else.’

Jungkook feels the smiles slide off his face.

‘Don’t say that…’

‘Why not?’

‘Don’t talk of something we can’t have.’

‘Why are you so sure of that?’ Jimin frowns, reaching up to hold Jungkook’s cheek and make him look at him.

‘You know why…’

‘I don’t.’

‘Jimin–’

‘I have to tell you something.’ Jimin bites his lip.

Jungkook frowns.

‘Go on then.’

‘I…have done exactly what you told me not to do. Regarding…your father.’

Jimin looks worried but also defiant and Jungkook lets out a sigh, dropping his head onto Jimin’s shoulder and squeezing his eyes shut.

‘You wouldn’t be you if you hadn’t.’ He mumbles.

He isn’t even really surprised, let alone angry.

‘What?’

When he lifts his head again, Jimin is frowning up at him so sweetly he actually laughs softly.

‘I guess deep down I knew you would, Jimin-ah, because I find that I’m not surprised at all.’

‘Oh, well…’

‘What have you done?’

Jimin screws up his face.

‘I have found a way to blackmail him. To have him disgraced and leave court for good, many of his men too, enough to turn the tide and allow the King to strengthen his allies again. But at the same time, your name will be clear. You will be free.’

‘It sounds…a little too good to be true.’

Jungkook eases himself down into the sheets and Jimin manoeuvres around him until they are on their sides, face to face.

‘Would you like to help me?’ Jimin asks. ‘Would you like to be involved?’

‘I don’t…know…’ Jungkook feels his voice catch in his throat, that frustrating prickle of tears behind his eyes and on the roof of his mouth.

It’s irritating, all the messy feelings about his father. Because he truly does want him gone. He truly does hate him. So, he doesn’t understand why it still hurts.

‘You don’t need to.’ Jimin leans towards him, kisses him softly. ‘You can let me protect you.’

Jungkook snorts.

‘I am not weak. I don’t need you to do that–’

‘Of course not. But that doesn't mean I won’t. Don’t you understand that I would do anything to protect you? I won’t apologise for it.’

Jungkook sighs, sliding his arm around Jimin’s waist to pull him closer until they’re tangled together.

‘I understand only because I would do the same for you, probably worse. I would burn the whole palace down for you, the whole kingdom, anything–’

‘Jungkook?’

‘Hm?’

‘Please stop burning things down for me…’

~~🗡~~

Jungkook doesn’t return to his father’s home. He sends no word to him, he just simply doesn’t go back. He wishes he could stay with Jimin, but they both know that it would be foolish and instead he rents simple rooms in town.

When he doesn’t return, he hears nothing from his father, no message is sent, no inquiry as to where he is. He can only assume that his father really doesn't care. Or that he is too preoccupied with tearing their Kingdom to shreds, or both.

But Jeon Jongseon was foolish or complacent if he thought that Jungkook would do nothing about what he told him. Perhaps he really did believe that Jungkook was so firmly under his thumb that he would not act against him, perhaps he underestimated the power and loyalty Jungkook commanded in the military he had served in for so many years.

Whatever he thought– it was a mistake. The militia Jungkook sends out from the capital makes quick work of dispersing the gathered armed forces, south of the city. Then they move through the nearby towns, accompanied by government inspectors, to the residence of each local Lord, issuing fines to all of those that have gathered more forces than the law allows.

It is swift and concise, each little pocket of power rooted out and disbanded.

Nobody breathes a word of Jeon Jongseon’s name, nor Kim Jeonghui’s. Nobody blames them, each Lord accepting their fine and prostrating themself with rich apologies, saying they had not gathered men with any purpose but only to mimic the amount of men that their neighbours had.

The rebellion’s leaders keep their names clear, but Jungkook hopes they feel the fingers tightening around their throat as the things they built start to crumble.

~~🗡~~

Jungkook is with the Queen when the last piece falls into place.

He and his father don’t talk anymore, but they all play pretend each week as they sit with the Queen and none of them drink their tea or eat the little sweet cakes arranged between them.

Today, the Queen doesn’t even lift up her cup.

‘I was wondering, brother, if there was ever a moment in our years together that you truly had my best interests at heart.’

Jeon Jongseon drops his cup on the table with a clatter.

‘Your majesty?’ He frowns.

‘When I look back on all the years between us, I wonder if you ever were on my side. Or have I always just been a path toward power for you?’

‘Your majesty, I am devoted to you, everything I do and have done has always been for you and for Jungkook–’

‘Be quiet!’ The Queen snaps.

Jungkook looks at her in surprise, he isn’t sure he has ever heard her raise her voice. His father is clearly surprised too.

But he does as she says, bowing his head slightly.

‘I advise you not to keep lying to my face in such a way.’ She carries on. ‘It will do nothing but make me despise you more. I have information that has a hatred for you burning in me so fiercely I could kill you with my bare hands.’

‘Your majesty, believe me, there is no such thing, you must have been fooled–’

‘By you!’ She shouts again. ‘Keep quiet or I will have my guards keep you quiet! I don’t wish to draw this out, I want you out of my sight as soon as possible. But as we sat here I couldn’t help but think of all that has passed between us.’ The Queen looks directly at him, her gaze strong and piercing. ‘I was young when they brought me here and I felt so alone. My parents were gone, my older sister too, and I was never raised to be a Queen, just a simple country girl– everything about the palace terrified me. And everybody else had someone, everyone around me was supported by their allies and powerful families. Then there you were, brother, the husband of my beloved older sister, speaking comforting words about family. I trusted you. I suppose I wonder if that care was ever genuine, if you ever did care but were corrupted by the taste of power…or whether it was always about what you could get from me?’

‘Of course it was for you, I assure you, your majesty–’

With a look from the Queen one of the guards strides across the room and strikes him across the face.

Jeon Jongseon recoils, eyes in open horror, then throws himself forward in a deep bow.

‘Well it doesn’t matter now.’ She says. ‘Not after this.’

The Queen reaches out and grasps a small bundle from her desk, then she throws it across the floor where it lands before Jeon Jongseon.

Jungkook watches how his father lifts his head slightly and frowns at the bundle of fabric before him.

‘What is it?’ his father whispers.

‘Open it.’

‘I–’

‘Open it.’

Jeon Jongseon’s hands shake as he does so, unrolling the fabric until dried herbs are revealed inside.

‘I don’t understand.’ He mutters.

‘Always such a good actor.’ The Queen snaps. ‘These were found in your kitchens. And these too–’ she throws another bundle, they hit his father in the chest and roll into his lap. ‘The rest of them were in your private rooms in a locked chest.’

‘No–’

‘Utensils were also found in your home, residue of these herbs burnt into the bottom of them.’

‘No,’ his father shakes his head. ‘They were placed there. I have been set up, I didn’t–’

‘And what about these?’

The Queen pushes a pile of papers across her desk, she opens a ledger and throws it on the floor too. Jungkook flinches as it hits the ground with a thud.

‘The orders for the herbs in your hand? The correspondence with a doctor from outside the palace. And this–’ she pushes another book from the table. ‘Perhaps the most damning of all, the royal medical registers showing your doctor visiting the crown prince each week, or this, the report on the prince’s body with the parts removed about evidence of poisoning. Or this? The letter addressed to you, found in your desk, stating the doctor has been dealt with so he will not speak of it?’

‘No, no,’ Jeon Jongseon scrabbles through the papers, his face slack and terrified, ‘it isn’t true, I have been set up, none of this is true–’

‘We have confessions from your own servants!’

‘It isn’t true!’

‘You killed my son!’ She screams.

Everybody in the room freezes, the silence deafening.

Then Jeon Jongseon starts shaking his head again.

‘No, no–’

‘You murdered the Crown Prince. He was poisoned under your command.’ She spits. ‘A most grievous crime.’

Jeon Jongseon’s hands drop to his side, his mouth open. He stares, utterly dumbstruck.

‘You thought you were smarter than all of us. But you weren’t.’ The Queen says. ‘This is the end for you, the evidence is incontrovertible. You are the traitor of the worst kind. And I feel sick that my foolishness at your true ways left…my son in danger. I will never forgive myself. Or you.’

Her gaze is still fierce but her voice cracks and Jungkook feels her pain as though it is his own. As it hits him what is happening, he also starts to feel something twists and gather in his belly.

Because this is it, isn’t it? This is Jimin’s great plan being unravelled in front of his eyes. The thought of that makes him feel sick.

‘You might wonder why I am talking to you like this?’ The Queen carries on. ‘Why you are not on trial but here with me in my rooms? Perhaps it is a small mercy that I found out about what you had done before anybody else did. After all, no one else looked more closely over the records of the prince than his own mother. But it is a small mercy for me, not for you.’

She draws in a breath, smooths the front of her clothes and tucks her hands back inside. Then she looks at Jungkook, for a moment, the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. He wishes he could muster one back, but he knows his expression is one of nothing but horror.

Then she turns back to his father.

‘The thing is, though family clearly means nothing to you in the end. It does to me.’ She draws herself up. ‘You already murdered my son and you will be punished for it. But I will not let your evil harm Jungkook too. If I reveal what you did, that you poisoned the Crown Prince– perhaps the most heinous crime you could commit, save killing the King himself– Jungkook will be executed too. Or if he is spared he will have his title removed, your money and your lands requisitioned, he will be exiled. And I will not let it happen. Though I would gladly watch you die, brother.’

Jeon Jongseon watches her talk in utter silence, pale and limp, hunched on the floor. He looks as though he feels the noose tightening around his neck, even if he is being spared from it.

‘Instead, it will be discovered that you have been exploiting your position in the State Council, that you have been taking money from the grain office. That you have been corrupt. You and Kim Jeonghui and several of your other conspirators alike– because I am in no doubt that they helped in what you did, given that it benefits them too– all of you will be publicly disgraced. You will be exiled. And most of all, you will never come back here. You will never try to clear your name, you will never go against me. Because if you do, I will reveal that you poisoned the Crown Prince and that will bring you a fate far worse than exile.’

‘Your majesty–’

‘No. You will never talk to me again.’ She snaps. ‘This is over now.’

With a nod at the guards, they move across the floor to seize him. Jeon Jongseon barely fights them, he looks more surprised than anything, still in shock, he just looks down at the hands that drag him to his feet.

‘Don’t think of this as mercy.’ The Queen says. ‘I hope you live a wretched life for the rest of your days. And perhaps when the dust has settled I might change my mind about not killing you. Nobody will care so much about an old exiled thief dying in his sleep, don’t you think?’ She smiles, a little eerily. ‘I hope you look over your shoulder for the rest of your life.’

Jungkook watches his father be dragged from the room. There’s a fleeting second where it looks like he might say something to Jungkook, like he might ask for his help, then he closes his mouth. And then he is gone and Jungkook stares at the door as it’s closed behind him.

The room is utterly silent.

The Queen lets out a strangled laugh, and then she begins to cry.

Jungkook should feel relieved but instead he feels as though someone has punched straight into his chest and squeezed his still beating heart.

Not out of concern for his father, but for the Queen who sobs behind him.

Because she is crying for a son that wasn’t really murdered, that wasn't really poisoned. Something Jungkook knows but she doesn’t.

His father is gone but her grief is the cost.

~~~

~~🗡~~

~~~

The news of Jeon Jongseon’s fall from grace travels around the palace at the speed these things always do. Many people are shocked, but others are angry.

He is officially arrested for corruption and fraud, for channelling the kingdom’s money into his own pockets and those of his allies.

It’s almost amusing how quickly the narrative shifts back in the King’s favour, especially as his and the state council’s last great battle was over the taxes through the grain office. It isn’t long before people that had been calling him weak are shaking their heads that their good, moral King was so beleaguered by corrupt officials– and during a time of mourning too.

A lot of people are also fearful. Jimin watches with disgust as many scramble to save their own necks. As countless Lords and Officials wash their hands of ever having supported Jeon Jongseon, immediately disparaging him and his ilk as loudly and vehemently as they can.

Others, who were more tangled in the schemes, have the sense to melt away from court without a word, back to their country homes and their wives, to ride out the storm.

It feels like the entire government has changed within only a few days. Jeon Jongseon is gone, Kim Jeonghui is arrested alongside him, as is the Minister of Taxation, the Minister of Appointments and at least four others. A flurry of resignations follow, while another dozen or so officials are sacked or relocated out to tiny provinces and into thankless, underpaid roles.

Councillor Hwang is promoted to the chief of the state council, with Park Jiwon promoted to the council alongside him, and one by one all the empty positions are filled with men in their favour.

Jimin is not naive enough to think that the men now in power are flawless and without their own greed and vices. He’s been here long enough to know that is far from the truth. He knows even his own father is not above acting in his own interests. But he also knows that this current government is better, and that they have made room for some genuinely good, young ministers to rise up through the ranks if they’re given the chance.

And best of all, Jeon Jongson is now being held in the royal prison before his official trial. Jimin thinks of him confined there with great satisfaction.

He thinks of him on his knees with his hands tied, feeling helpless. As if the walls are closing in on him and nothing he can will save him. He’s powerless.

Jimin remembers that feeling well, he’s held it in his chest for a decade now, felt it suffocate him through nightmare after nightmare– and he feels a grim satisfaction in returning it to the man that did the same to him when he was little more than a child.

~~🗡~~

Jimin can’t sit still as he waits for Jungkook. Instead he paces the floor of the room he’s hired at the tea house.

They haven’t been here for a long time, but it was just another thing that felt beautifully possible again. Without Jeon Jongseon looming between them, the pressure to keep everything so secret was no longer there. There was no worry any more that they were being spied on, or not more than anybody else at court ever was anyway.

The anticipation thrums under Jimin’s skin, across every inch of him. Not only has he missed Jungkook the past few days but now they are meeting with something to celebrate, with something good between them at last.

Even some hope that maybe Jungkook would be more amenable to leaving with him, if the court they leave behind is at peace.

When the door slides open and Jungkook comes through it, sliding it closed behind him, Jimin flies across the floor and throws his arms around his neck.

Only for Jungkook to loosen them, pushing them back down to his sides.

‘What is it?’ Jimin frowns.

Jungkook steps past him into the room and starts pacing himself. This time Jimin stands still and watches him with a frown.

‘What’s wrong?’

Jungkook turns and looks at him.

‘Was it true?’ He asks. ‘Did my father poison the crown prince?’

‘No, he didn’t.’

‘But you planted the evidence that he did?’

‘Yes, I–’

‘The herbs? You put them in our home? Forged the records? Wrote the false letters? All of it?’

‘Yes.’

Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath and Jimin feels a shiver across his skin. Jungkook looks furious and he suddenly fears that, after everything, Jungkook is going to be angry that he framed his father.

‘Why?’ Jungkook asks and Jimin frowns again.

‘You know why–’

‘No, I mean, why that? Of all the things, why did you frame him for that? Why did you involve the Queen?’ Jungkook steps toward him, an arm raised, shouting now. ‘Why is she under the impression that her son was murdered? Why would you do that?’

‘I did what needed to be done.’ Jimin answers. ‘As I told you I would.’

Jungkook scoffs and turns his head away from him and Jimin wants to grab him and pull him back.

But he doesn’t.

‘It didn’t need to be done. I won’t believe it.’

‘And you know better?’

‘I know that the Queen did not deserve this!’

‘It was the only way, Jungkook. I executed this perfectly.’

‘Could you not have framed him for the theft and fraud he has actually been arrested for? If that was enough to lose him his power why did you need to involve the Queen? Why does she have to believe that her son was murdered when he truly died peacefully.’

‘Yi Sun-ie didn’t die peacefully, Jungkook-ah, you know he didn’t–’

‘But he wasn’t murdered!’

‘No. He wasn’t.’ Jimin says. ‘I’m sorry, I know it hurts. But it was the only way.’

‘Why?’ Jungkook looks at him somewhat desperately. ‘I just don’t understand, because honestly all I see is you seeking revenge. I see you being cruel and petty, Jimin, and I can’t bear it.’

Jimin stops trying to move toward him, just looks up at Jungkook who looks back with something so close to disgust that it turns his stomach.

‘It isn’t that at all.’ He says, his voice low.

‘Then tell me, please, I want to understand. I can’t bear feeling like this toward you, so please give me a reason not to.’

‘You were right about your father’s power.’ Jimin answers. ‘I doubt either of us even know the full extent of his networks, his deception. The amount of people willing to lie for him, all those forced to lie for him or do his bidding. He has been at this for nearly twenty years. Nobody could have taken him down but himself.’

‘That doesn't make sense.’

‘It does.’ Jimin smiles sadly. ‘We could have threatened him with many things, tried to trick him or blackmail him, there were plenty of real crimes of his we could have revealed. But in the end nothing was certain to work because of who he was and the counter moves he could so easily have made. Even against the King or the Queen. The entire council was in his pocket, they would dismiss almost anything raised against him. This only worked– his being arrested for something honestly quite trivial– because he is letting it happen. Because of the threat that the Queen will reveal that he poisoned the prince, he is allowing himself to be removed to spare himself from being executed. I truly don’t think we could have managed it in any other way.’

Jungkook slumps a little, exhaling a breath, and Jimin watches some of his anger drain away.

But he seems resigned, not relieved.

‘I still don’t think it was worth it. I don’t think you had any right to do this to her. Or at least you should have told me, or– I don’t even know. I just know it hurts.’

‘Is the outcome not worth the price?’ Jimin asks. ‘The rebellion is quashed. Your father is disgraced but none of his dishonour has passed on to you. You get to keep your title, your name, all of your lands and wealth–’

‘As if I cared about that!’

‘But you do. If only for your son, don’t you? Do you not see what we also achieved for him?’

‘I would always have made sure he was okay, money and title or not.’

‘But it’s deeper than that!’ Jimin pushes. ‘Because Kim Jeonghui has fallen too, your wife’s father is gone too. Your son is the oldest male relative of that family now, with Kim Jeonghui’s disgrace everything passed to him– he is Lord Kim now. And until he comes of age, your wife will manage things for him. Everything came out perfectly, Jungkook-ah, the rebellion is over, your son and your wife are both free but also not dependent on you, your father is gone, his cronies are gone, the Queen is safe…Jungkook, everything we could have ever hoped for has happened.’

‘But you used her! You used her grief! I just can’t think of anything else, whatever it got for us, that was the cost.’

He looks truly heartbroken and Jimin wishes there was something he could say to comfort him, even anything to say to defend himself. But there isn’t.

‘I had no other way and I would do it again.’ He says instead. ‘When it came to it, I would have done anything for you to be free of him, even if you end up hating me for it.’

‘And what if I do?’

‘What if you hate me?’ Jimin sighs. ‘Well…then you do.’

~~🗡~~

A better man would probably let things go. Particularly after Jungkook’s disgust at what Jimin had done. A better man would be happy and satisfied with how things turned out. They would be thankful that the plans had gone as hoped and then he would move on.

But Jimin isn’t a better man.

He holds too much anger in his heart for Jeon Jongseon that will not quieten down.

He is too angry on behalf of Jungkook, furious that spent his whole life worn into the ground by the vileness of his father. Beaten and disparaged until he believed he was worthless and undeserving of love. Jimin marvels every day that Jungkook grew up to be so strong and so good despite that.

Every single time Jungkook accidentally revealed some further horror of his life, often so simply and easily, as if he didn’t realise the weight of what he was saying, Jimin has been noting it in his mind, adding it to a long list of things he would like to carve out of Jeon Jongseon’s flesh in retribution.

And Jimin is also angry for himself too.

Because all those years ago, when he was arrested over a false accusation, it may have been Jungkook that started things, but it was Jeon Jongseon that was really to blame. He was the one that turned Jungkook’s foolish outburst into something dangerous, who made it about the Queen’s unborn child.

He was the one that would have let Jimin be executed for it.

Jeon Jongseon’s disgrace is not nearly enough for Jimin and all that anger. He wants more.

As he turns the corner of the prison building and finds himself confronted with Jeon Jongseon, tied up in a filthy cell, his face splits into a grin.

It’s night time and the palace is deserted, but it doesn’t matter anyway. Jimin has called in one last favour from Yoongi and this entire part of the prison is emptied of everybody but them and a few of his men.

As Jimin entered, Agmong had flown down and sat on his shoulder. He’d gone to remove her and then decided he rather liked the theatrics of it and let her stay there.

He approaches the bars of the cell before him, looking through to where Jeon Jongseon has been lifted and tied to a wooden chair with a peculiar crossed frame attached.

Just another thing that Jimin had requested.

‘Hello.’ He says.

Jeon Jongseon lifts his head up, frowning through the darkness.

He looks exhausted and, without all his clothes of state, really just like a pathetic old man.

‘Park Jimin?’ He says, his voice a little dry.

Maybe from shouting, maybe from lack of water. Jimin doesn’t care.

He nods at the guard who opens the door from him and lets him into the stinking cell. Jungkook’s father just stares at him in shock.

‘I imagine you’re wondering why I’m here?’

They look at each other.

‘No, actually.’ Jeon Jongseon smiles, though it is small and grim. ‘I wasn’t sure who had been the mastermind to all of this. Now you are here, my questions have been answered.’

‘All of them?’ Jimin pulls a face of mock disappointment. ‘That’s a shame. I was planning to taunt you with several grand reveals.’

‘You’re below me.’ Jeon Jongseon bites. ‘I won’t humour you with anything else.’

Jimin pauses a few paces from him and assesses his captive. He had expected him to act somewhat like this and that’s fine.

He draws the little silver knife out of the front of his hanbok, twirling it in his fingers hoping it catches the light and that Jeon Jongseon is having to work hard not to look at it.

Somewhere over the months he’s shared with Jungkook, the knife has ended up feeling a little like it belongs to the both of them. Endlessly passed between the two, sometimes given, often taken. It is both a game and a token.

It's a coincidence that the last time they spoke the knife was with Jimin. He will return it to its rightful owner, now he is no longer talking to him.

But it has its uses first.

‘You’re an intelligent man, so I’m sure you’re familiar with the art of war?’ Jimin says as he paces before Jeon Jongseon. ‘And with the thirty-six stratagems?’

His captive says nothing, Jimin rather suspects that he won’t anymore, but that won’t stop him from having his fun.

‘Well, I've been thinking of one of the winning stratagems of late. Can you guess which one?’

He steps closer to Jeon Jongseon, holding out the silver knife until the tip nearly touches under his chin. It’s obvious that he tries not to flinch or to look at the blade.

‘You’re right, this clue does rather give it away!’ Jimin laughs.

As is her habit– Agmong copies him and laughs too, the eerie sound echoing around the room. Jeon Jongseon’s eyes widen and flick to her anxiously.

Jimin chuckles, enjoying the small show of vulnerability, at least he knows something makes him anxious.

‘Oh, don’t mind my little nightmare.’ He reaches up and scratches her idly. ‘Anyway, I was thinking of the stratagem– to kill with a borrowed knife.’ He carries on. ‘And it really is so perfect here. So perfect. Forgive me if I’m repeating what you know, but the concept is simple– use the strength of another when your own is unfavourable, or, even better– trick an ally to attack for you.’

‘I suppose you’re realising that’s what I did by now, isn’t it? Or I hope so. Because I really do want the glory for this. So I will just say it simply, that it was me that set you up for poisoning the Crown Prince, me that planted the evidence, me that forged the documents. And yes, me that went to the Queen and presented the daming picture to her. So, she’s the knife, you see?’

Jimin steps closer, holding the blade so the point just threatens the thick vein under Jeon Jongseon’s neck.

He actually doesn't want to touch him with it, doesn't want to besmirch it, not least draw even a speck of his blood with it–that would ruin it.

Only, Jungkook's father doesn't need to know that. Often, the threat of something is enough and isn't that the moral of this whole endeavour? Jimin doesn't really need to do anything to him for the effects to be the same.

‘I know you didn't poison the prince. You know you didn't. But the Queen thinks you did, she has evidence that you did, and that's enough, isn't it? It was enough for her to finally turn on you and take you down. I couldn't have done that alone.’

Jimin smirks, moving the blade slowly just to have the pleasure of watching him try to stay calm.

‘But that's the other part of this, it's where the knife analogy truly becomes beautiful. Because I also have this knife–’ He draws it back, levelling it at Jeon Jongseon’s nose.

He tries not to give Jimin the satisfaction of looking at it, so Jimin jerks his hand and then laughs as he jumps.

‘This knife is familiar to you, isn’t it? I have no doubt you recognise it. No doubt that you know it was your wife’s. That it has been Jungkook’s ever since. Are you working out the other piece of the puzzle? That you were right that your son was on my side. That he would choose me over you, again and again–’

‘Then I was right that he was a coward and a fool!’ Jeon Jongseon finally snaps and answers. ‘He was always stupid, an embarrassment–’

Jimin cuts him off by striking him hard around the face.

He doesn't want to touch him with the knife, but that in no way means he's getting out of this unscathed.

‘You were right about nothing when it comes to Jungkook! For a start you were wrong that I was using your son. Wrong that he couldn't trust me. And you've always been wrong that he was an idiot.’ Jimin answers him, voice cold and loud. ‘You've always been wrong about him. He's the missing piece of the game, have you realised that yet? If you're wondering why I even wanted to harm you in the first place? Or why I had to use such an elaborate way to take you down, why I couldn't just go to the King, why I didn't try to get you charged with treason– because I had the evidence to, for many crimes, and you know it too– but I wanted Jungkook to be safe. And this way he is, don't you see? The Queen has the evidence to keep you from ever trying to crawl back here, and yet the crime you're punished for is not so great that your son also suffers. It's perfect.’

Jeon Jongseon just stares, eyes burning into him, but nothing he could possibly retort.

‘And don't you just think the symmetry of it is all so beautiful? If I was to kill you with this knife right now? Like your wife once threatened to do if you hurt Jungkook, would it be like me fulfilling her oath?’

Jimin steps closer, watches the whites of Jeon Jongseon’s eyes widen as he holds the blade to his neck once again.

‘Wouldn’t that be such a sweet twist to the story? To kill you with this borrowed knife right now?’

They stare at each other once more. Jungkook's father still has a little fight left in his expression, a little bit of a challenge and Jimin is eager to crush it.

‘I won’t though, sadly. Because if anybody gets to kill you it should be your son, and if he doesn't want to then I won’t take that choice from him. But I do think we can have a little fun while I have you here, don’t you?’

‘Why are you dragging this out?’ His captive finally spits. ‘Do you have nothing better to do?’

Jimin grins.

‘No, actually. This is everything to me, because after today I'm never going to see you again and the last image I want of you is you crying and screaming and pissing yourself in fear. It will give me never ending satisfaction to think of you like that, or cold and miserable in your exile, while I look at Jungkook and know that he is safe and happy and loved.’

‘Happiness and love?’ Jeon Jongseon scoffs. ‘That's your prize?’

‘It is.’ Jimin nods. ‘And I hope as you reflect on it in your solitude you might realise the value in it, perhaps you might even regret living a life so empty of it. I truly don't care. Now, let's stop wasting time shall we? You seemed keen for me to get on with things a moment ago.’

‘Please. Do your worst.’ Jeon Jongseon spits.

Jimin smiles, then steps backwards a few paces, he gestures for Yoongi to come and join him and he emerges from the shadows like a ghoul. He's fully dressed in black, his face covered so just his shrewd eyes show through the swathes of fabric. Jimin hopes they look terrifying, Yoongi dressed like an assassin and himself with the glittering knife and the laughing crow on his shoulder.

‘Do you know what this is?’ He says, tapping the wooden structure Jeon Jongseon is strapped to.

He just stares insolently back. Jimin gives him a cold smile and runs his hand down one of the wooden poles stuck between his calves.

‘I know you do. You're old enough to remember the days before they outlawed it, right? Leg twisting. The preferred method of punishment for traitors.’

He grips the pole and pulls it, the ropes tighten but he stops before applying any real pressure, and without somebody holding the other pole it wouldn't do much damage anyway.

But Jeon Jongseon still flinches.

‘And you are a traitor, aren't you?’ Jimin carries on. ‘So, it would be appropriate, even if that's not the official crime you're being charged with. But do you want to know why I thought this would be particularly fitting? I'm sure you can guess…’

Jeon Jongseon just keeps glaring at him. He has his chin raised and a look of practised disgust on his face. But Jimin can see how sweat gathers at his temples now, and the way his knuckles are white on each arm of the chair he's tied in.

‘No? Well, leg twisting causes quite a lot of damage to the lower legs. More often than not it causes permanent damage. Disfigurement. Done just right it would leave you unable to walk, possibly forever. With a nasty limp at least, certainly a lot of pain.’

Jimin leans in, a cruel smirk on his lips.

‘I felt perhaps you deserved that most of all. It would please me greatly to imagine you in exile and in pain, while it also seemed the perfect vengeance for a man that proffered endless suffering onto his son for a similar affliction. Wouldn't it?’

He steps up to the side of the chair, nodding for Yoongi to take his place on the other side.

‘Will you manage as well as Jungkook, do you think? Or will we truly find out who always had a greater strength of spirit, who was always stronger and braver…’

He reaches out and holds the wooden pole, pulling it towards him until the ropes go taut. Yoongi steps forward and does the same on the other side.

Each pole is tied behind one of his ankles, they cross in front of the knees, with each end stuck out to be held. The full weight of a man applied on each pole at the same time is enough to break his shin bones.

‘Are you ready?’ He says to Yoongi who just nods.

His silence is as terrifying as anything else.

‘Okay then–’

‘Wait!’

They pause. Jimin had hoped this would be the game they ended up playing.

‘Yes?’

‘Is it…money you would like?’

‘Money?’

‘I can get it for you. Name your price.’

‘Are you paying me to save you from exile, or to save your legs?’

‘Both? Either! My legs, just don't–’

‘I don't want your money! Keep it.’

‘Then what?’

‘I already told you. I want you screaming. Now, let's get this done.’

He gestures at Yoongi again and they both lean on the poles, not with all their weight but enough to hurt.

‘Wait! Wait! I–’

They pause once again.

‘What is it? Perhaps you would prefer another method? Didn't your wife once threaten to stab your eyes out? Perhaps I could fulfil that oath of hers instead? Perhaps my little nightmare could do it for me? Agmong, baby, would you–’

Jimin lifts Agmong from his shoulder to his hand, bringing her close to Jeon Jongseon’s face.

He's bluffing, she is in no way trained to gouge out eyes, instead he's rather relying on her being menacing enough as is.

And she doesn't disappoint. She seems intrigued as to why Jimin is holding her toward some one she dislikes and she starts bobbing her head, tilting it to the side and then craning down to get close to Jeon Jongseon’s face, her beak threateningly close to his eyes.

Then she rather completes the image by laughing, eerie and disjointed.

‘No, don't. Please, I–’

Jimin grasps the pole again, pushing it down and this time Jeon Jongseon screams.

It startles Agmong who starts flapping to try and take off and Jungkook's father seems to think she's going for him and screams harder.

She actually just flies away, annoyed by the noise and settles in the rafters.

Jimin winks at Yoongi and both of them let go of the wood.

Jeon Jongseon stares up at them, chin flecked with spittle that he can't wipe away, his eyes wide and wary, his breathing fast and uneven from the shock.

Jimin moves in front of him, looking down at him condescendingly, waiting for him to pull himself together.

‘It would be a beautiful irony to maim you like this. You would deserve it. But then I thought…somehow it supported your own foul opinions. That injuring your legs that way– though it would bring me endless satisfaction– it didn't prove any real point about what you've done. Because even with your body whole, you're still not half the man your son is. Not even close.’ Jimin says, his voice level and calm.

‘And because Jungkook is a good man, he wouldn't want you hurt for his sake, even if you deserve it.’

‘He wouldn't, he wouldn't…’ Jeon Jongseon babbles and his relief is almost enough to change Jimin's mind about being merciful.

‘Please don't think we're so soft that you’re leaving here quite the same man as you were though.’

He grins at Yoongi who nods and then leaves. He comes back with two guards who hold a small iron burner between them.

Jeon Jongseon looks at it immediately and his eyes widen in fear.

‘I know you.’ Jimin says. ‘I know you won't rest until you find some way to crawl back here, or you find some other nexus of power you can encroach on. And that isn't good enough for me. I want to know that if you ever try, everybody that ever looks at you will know you're a piece of shit.’

He walks over to the burner, turning his back to stoke the flames and turn the branding iron that rests in the core of the heat, already burning red.

‘This should do it, don't you think?’ Jimin turns back to his captive, holding out the iron, the end of it shaped into the symbol for ‘thief’.

‘No, please don't, no–’

Jimin gets the screams he wished for.

He gets the terrified look in Jeon Jongseon’s eyes, the begging and pleading as Jimin brands the mark right onto his cheek. In the end, as the metal sears into his flesh, Jeon Jongseon loses control of his bladder just long enough before he passes out for Jimin to see the humiliation and defeat in his eyes.

And that's enough for him.

~~🗡~~

After everything is over, Jimin waits for Jungkook to come to him.

Somehow he knows that he will, even if it isn’t to say anything he wants to hear. He trusts that even if Jungkook truly won’t forgive him for what he did, that everything that has happened between them means more than things being left in an argument.

He understands why Jungkook is upset, even if a little part of him feels bitter about it.

He’s spent many hours going over everything that happened, every piece of the plot, every intricate detail that he and Yoongi pulled together between them, and each time he comes to the same conclusion– that what they did, and how they did it, was the only way.

Perhaps he should have told Jungkook what he planned to do, but then, what would he have done if Jungkook had told him not to?

Jimin can’t regret where they have ended up, so he knows he must also bear the consequences.

It’s the day that Jeon Jongseon is sent away from the palace that Jungkook finally comes.

That morning, his father is driven out of the palace and through the streets of Hanseong in an open topped cart, with nothing but the simple clothes on his back and the brand on his face that will forever mark him. He will be dropped off outside the city, who knows where, and he won’t ever be allowed to set foot inside its walls again.

That same afternoon, Jungkook stands on the front steps of Jimin’s home. He’s in his uniform, looking all at once handsome and sad, his hands clasped behind his back as Jimin stands in the doorway and looks back at him.

‘Will you come in?’ Jimin asks.

His father is at the palace, so they can talk in peace.

Jungkook just nods and then follows Jimin inside.

They stand opposite each other, far too much space between them and an awkwardness that Jimin despises. He waits for Jungkook to say something. He looks like he’s going to a few times, opening his mouth and then closing it again, before looking back down with a frown.

‘Are we alone?’ He says eventually.

Jimin nods.

And then Jungkook strides across the room and kisses him.

Jimin gasps in surprise and Jungkook just swallows it. He kisses him messily, hungrily, keeps walking backwards until Jimin slams into the wall behind him.

He finds himself smiling as they kiss like that, Jungkook holding onto him fiercely.

When he finally lets go a little, leaving the tiniest bit of space between them, Jimin laughs softly.

‘You always kiss me when you don’t know what to say,’ he whispers into the side of Jungkook’s jaw. ‘When the things you’re feeling are too big to be put into words.’

Jungkook lifts his head, there’s the tiniest smile on his lips too. He leans forward and rests their foreheads together. His arms still tight around Jimin’s waist.

‘I know what to say.’ He sighs. ‘I just don’t want to.’

‘Oh…’

‘I love you.’ Jungkook says, tilting his head to rub their noses together.

‘I love you–’

‘And I understand what you did. I’m not so angry anymore, now things have settled. I understand…but it still hurts.’

‘I’m sorry…’

‘I know.’

‘Jungkook, why do I feel like you’re about to say something I don’t want to hear?’

‘Because you know me well…and I am.’

‘No–’

‘Shush.’ He dips his head and kisses him again.

Jimin feels something terrifying now about the soft press of Jungkook’s lips.

‘Have you resigned yet, Advisor Park?’ Jungkook says when he lifts his head again.

‘No…’

‘But you will?’

‘No, not if you’re about to say that you won’t come with me. That’s it, isn’t it? Then I will stay here. We’ll work something out–’

‘We won’t.’

‘Jungkook–’

‘We both know you need to leave, Jimin, that you should have left years ago. That if you stay you’ll shrivel up and fade away until there’s nothing left of you.’ He’s holding Jimin’s chin, one thumb just below his bottom lip. ‘Tell me I’m wrong?’

Obviously Jimin can’t. He just looks up into Jungkook’s wide eyes, he’s smirking at him but so very far from cruelly.

‘I guess I hoped that you would come too…’ Jimin says.

‘But I won’t.’

‘You really won’t? Jungkook, you hate it here. It’s killing you too.’

‘It is…but I can’t leave my aunt now. I won’t.’

‘It doesn’t have to be now! I will wait for you, until you are ready to leave. I don’t mind. I would rather wait than be without you.’

Jungkook kisses him again.

‘I know you would.’ He says. ‘And I would ask you to wait, if I thought one day I really would leave. But I know that I won’t…’ Jungkook whispers, his fingers sneaking around to the back of Jimin’s head.

‘Why?’ Jimin says, the tears he was holding running silently down his cheeks.

Because he knows Jungkook too well to think he will change his mind, loves him too hard and too fiercely not to know that there isn’t any argument to be had when he talks like this. Jungkook really won’t come with him, and neither will he let Jimin stay.

‘I just don’t understand,’ he’s choking on the tears now, ‘you deserve so much better, Jungkook, you deserve to leave too.’

Jungkook takes Jimin’s face in his hands, rubbing away his tears with his thumbs.

‘Jimin-ah, you are so strong and so clever. You will always be just fine without me. Do you know that? It’s why I can let you leave, why I could possibly bear to be without you. You will be absolutely fine without me, you don’t need me, you don’t need my protection–’

‘-I do!’ Jimin sobs, ‘I do need you!’

‘No you don’t. Not like the Queen does.’ Jungkook kisses him again. ‘She's lost everything, Jimin, and I can't leave her…not now. She needs me and I’ll stay here as long as she does.’

Jimin really cries then, his face held in both of Jungkook’s palms. He would turn his face away from him in shame if he didn’t want to waste a single second of looking at him while he still can.

Because what argument does he have? Of course Jungkook would sacrifice his own happiness to look after those he loves.

‘Nothing I say will change your mind will it?’

‘Not a thing. And if you try to stay here for me, I won’t talk to you, so don’t even try it.’

He smiles, still cupping Jimin’s face and Jimin laughs through the tears despite himself.

‘Fuck you.’ He bites.

‘I know,’ Jungkook sighs, ‘I know…’ then he pulls Jimin into his chest and lets him cry.

~~🗡~~

‘Can I ask you for one more thing?’ Jungkook whispers across the darkness at Jimin, one of his hands roaming up and down Jimin’s arm.

‘No.’

Jungkook grins at his pout, as if he knows all too well that Jimin is only keeping it up to make himself feel better.

‘Will you take Agmong with you?’

‘What?’

‘She deserves to be free too, don’t you think? Not always having to be hidden or stay away from me. And she loves you just as much as she does me, she’ll be happy–’

‘Jungkook-ah, no, I can’t! It would break my heart.’

‘No. It won’t. He smiles. ‘She can carry mine with her.’

‘That’s really quite sentimental…’

‘Well, I am trying to persuade you.’

Jungkook smiles at him, then scrambles to his feet and Jimin watches him cross the room, the moonlight through the open window dappled across his pale skin.

‘Here.’

‘What is it?’

‘This is the chain that goes in the loop around her leg. When you leave the palace, fit it on her and take her with you. She might be a little unsettled at first but she will be happier in the long run.’

‘Jungkook…’

‘You know she will, or you’d be fighting me harder. And it will make me happy too. I will think of the both of you in some beautiful flower field, free and happy and I will always be content.’

‘You’re impossible.’

‘I know. But you’ll do as I ask, won’t you?’

Jimin looks down at the delicate silver chain in his palm. It feels as heavy as the weight on his chest.

But still he nods.

~~🗡~~

‘Don’t you dare say goodbye to me, Jungkook, or I will punch you in the face again.’

‘I’m not. It isn’t as though you are leaving tomorrow, are you?’

‘No.’

‘Then I’m not saying goodbye.’

‘But you will, won’t you?’

‘Would you rather I didn’t?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Then I will say I love you instead.’

‘Go on then.’

Jungkook grins, he lifts Jimin’s chin with his finger and plants a soft kiss on his lips.

‘I love you.’

He says, then walks down the front steps of Jimin’s house.

‘Go inside,’ he says. ‘I’ll watch you leave, not the other way around.’

Jimin doesn't say another word to him, just strides back into his house, closing the door behind him.

When he looks out of the window a few moments later, Jungkook is gone.

~~~

~~🗡~~

~~~

After everything that happened with the ousting of Jeon Jongseon and all the others that had rebelled and conspired alongside him, everything went back to normal surprisingly quickly.

The only rift that could not be mended– was the Princes.

Because the King cannot overlook the fact that his half-brothers were involved in a revolt against him, even if it never actually came to pass. It remains a fact that the State Council still raised an official deposition against the King and everybody knew that it was supported by Prince Seokjin.

By now most people know that Prince Seokjin had amassed a small army in his name, including the King himself.

The King has refused many pleas to execute his half brothers over the years, always wishing to mend things between them. He doesn't even do so now, though nobody would think it harsh of him.

Instead, Seokjin and Taehyung are exiled, with the King commanding that they commit suicide once they reach their destination. But everybody knows that they won’t, and as long as he never hears from them again the King won’t enforce his command.

Despite how he and Seokjin spoke the last time they met, it’s Jungkook that helps the princes flee the palace.

Even if they are being exiled, they are still in danger from both sides, and from many others who would happily harm them and say they had committed suicide as the King had demanded. Many of those close to the King are unhappy that they are being allowed to leave.

Jungkook and some of his men come in the night and smuggle them out of their rooms. They flee into the city and to a carriage that will take them away.

‘I’m sorry,’ Seokjin says, when he hugs Jungkook goodbye. ‘That this is how things turned out. And that I spoke to you the way I did.’

‘It’s okay, hyung, it's done now.’

‘We’ll miss you.’

‘I’ll miss you!’ Taehyung pushes his brother out of the way and pulls Jungkook into a hug. ‘Will you really not come with us? You’re choosing a life of luxury over your beloved hyungs? We’re going to Jeju, you know, they say it’s wild and beautiful.’

He pulls back, a look of mock offence on his face and Jungkook smiles softly.

‘I think you’ll be okay. You have your Chowol-ie after all…’ He nods over Taehyung’s shoulder at the little anxious group that waits for them, including their servants, Seokjin’s wife and Chowol, the pretty palace maid.

‘Ah, well, turns out she wouldn’t marry a prince but a scoundrel on the run suits her just perfectly.’ Taehyung grins.

‘We need to go…’ Seokjin says.

‘Be safe.’ Jungkook steps backward, watching as they climb into the carriage. ‘Write to me.’

Taehyung winks out of the window as they pull away and then they are gone and Jungkook stands and watches the empty road their carriage disappeared down for a very long time.

~~~

~~🗡~~

~~~

The kisaeng house is quiet, still a little too early for many guests to have arrived. Just a few are milling around and drinking the luxurious iced drinks Hoseok is serving to combat the late spring heat wave. It’s probably one of only a handful of places outside the palace that has access to ice and Jimin can’t help but smile at Hoseok’s extravagance, stirring his own cold hibiscus tea.

He’s broken out of his trail of thought by Mari, who comes up behind Jimin and nudges their shoulders together.

‘Your room is ready. Would you like me to take you up?’

Jimin nods and then follows Mari through the cool, dim corridors of the kisaeng house all the way to the very back, to one of the smallest– but most discreet– rooms.

‘Here you go. I’ll bring your guest up once they arrive’

‘Thank you.’

Mari hovers in the door, leaning on the frame and smiling at Jimin gently.

‘Is everything all ready then?’ She asks.

‘Yes…I’m leaving tomorrow.’

‘Oh, I’m so excited for you!’

Jimin can’t help but smile at Mari’s wide grin, even if his own feelings are hung with melancholy.

‘Are you sure you don't want to come, honey? Yoongi said he could forge your papers.’ He says.

They’ve already had this conversation several times, Jimin just can’t help trying one more time.

‘I know, but you also know I need to be here for my mother and my brothers.’

‘I'd always pay for them. I'd look after them.’

‘I know, Jimin-ssi, but security isn't just about money, is it? They need me.’

‘Well, you must always tell me if you need me. You promise?’

‘Of course. But I won't need you. I’ve always been able to look after myself, I only let you do it cause I know you like to.’

When Jimin thinks back on the scrappy, half starved thing he met many years ago he knows that isn’t quite true. But he’s happy Mari has grown up to believe it is.

Mari grins, then heads back across the floor and gives Jimin a kiss on his cheek.

‘I better get out of here.’

And then with a final wink she’s gone, the door sliding closed with a click.

~~🗡~~

Jimin waits for a long time. He doesn’t dare to sit down and all the windows are closed with their shutters drawn, so he simply stands there in the middle of the room and waits.

He hears various people in the corridors, guests arriving and being shown to their rooms, the laughter of servants and some of the kisaeng as they use the stairs just outside this room to head back down to the kitchens.

And then finally, finally, the door slides open.

A kisaeng enters, absolutely drowned in layers of silks, a wide skirt jutting out extravagantly and her huge hair piece covered by a large gauze veil. Her lady's maid enters behind her and stands quietly by the back wall.

Hoseok, who clearly showed her up to the room, bows as if to leave but the kisaeng stops him.

‘Master Jung? Would you bring us tea?’

‘Of course, madam.’ He bows nearly in half and then vanishes.

She turns back to Jimin.

‘Let’s sit.’

Once they have settled, the kisaeng reaches up and lifts the veil from off her face, revealing a huge and very elaborate hair piece.

Jimin can’t help the little smile that finds its way to his lips though he bows his face respectfully.

‘That hair is really quite something.’ He says. ‘Dare I say it suits you?’

‘Have some respect.’

‘May I say it suits you…your majesty?’

The Queen cracks and smiles back at him.

‘It was rather fun getting dressed like this, I can’t pretend otherwise.’

‘I have no doubt.’

‘It wouldn't have been proper for us to have an official meeting, I hope you understand that. Not after everything and now that you are no longer employed at the palace.’

‘Of course, I understand.’

‘But…I also wanted to see you. I hear you are leaving tomorrow.’

‘I am.’ Jimin nods. ‘Can I ask who told you so?’

‘You know very well who.’

‘Is he…okay?’

There’s a knock on the door and then it slides back, revealing Hoseok and Mari carrying the tea things. Jimin and the Queen sit quietly while they arrange the trays and then bow out of the room again.

Both of them pause for a moment and look at the things in front of them.

‘Shall we forgo propriety for now?’ Jimin smiles, reaching out to make the preparations.

They drink quietly, Jimin waiting for the Queen to speak.

‘I wanted to thank you.’ She says eventually. ‘Just one more time.’

‘You know you don’t need to.’

‘But I do.’ She sighs. ‘It’s only been a few weeks without my brother-in-law by my side and yet I have already noticed the difference. He had a negative impact on all of us, especially on me and on Jungkook. I never would have seen things for what they were if you hadn’t come to me.’

‘Then I am glad that I did.’

‘It was bold of you.’ She smiles. ‘I was furious when you requested a meeting with me. Even more so when you insisted on it being private.’

‘Why did you say yes?’

‘Because one of the things you learn after many years in the palace is that pretty much everything is worth hearing. What you then do with what you hear is up to you.’

Jimin takes a sip of his tea, shielding his mouth with his hand.

They have only met a couple of times like this, but he feels strangely relaxed. Perhaps it’s because of the setting, because he can squint a little and pretend for a moment that they aren’t who they are.

Or perhaps it’s because he is leaving and so many things don’t really matter anymore.

‘It was a risk coming to me as you did.’ The Queen says. ‘You had no idea where I stood on things. It could have cost you your life.’

‘I think I knew that even if you had supported Jeon Jongseon in every other thing he had ever done, the moment he tried to harm Jungkook he had lost you.’ Jimin says, looking down at his hands. ‘Or I was desperate. Prepared to risk most things if I thought I could protect him.’

‘Lucky that I was prepared to do most things too, isn’t it? Even framing my brother-in-law for the murder of my own son.’

‘Even that.’

The Queen looks up at the window shutters where the afternoon sunbeams pierce through, dust motes spiralling in the light.

‘Is he…well?’ Jimin asks.

‘Jungkook? He is.’ The Queen nods. ‘I feel terrible for what I put him through with his father, all because I was too weak to stand on my own.’

‘Forgive me, but from what I know, it wasn’t that simple.’

‘No, perhaps not.’ She sighs. ‘All I ever wanted was to protect Jungkook. I was only thirteen when my sister died and he was only five. His father didn’t know what to do with him so he was brought to us, to me and my parents. They weren’t very interested in raising another child but I adored him. Then I was selected as Queen, much to everybody's surprise, and I was taken away to the palace. When both of my parents died, Jungkook was sent back to his father. But I always worried about him. As soon as I was settled and I had the influence I arranged for them both to move to Hanseong to be near me. I suppose that’s when his father saw his opportunity for power and took it.’

‘Well…Jungkook grew to be a very good man with an incredible heart. It’s obvious that he didn’t get that from his father. You should give yourself credit.’

‘You talk very fondly of him.’ She smiles.

‘He is dear to me.’

‘I think that you must be very dear to him in return, when he is so sad about losing you.’

‘I hope I am.’

They both drink quietly.

‘Then why isn’t he leaving too? I think we both know he hates it here.’

Jimin really doesn’t know whether he should lie to the Queen, what the right answer to her question is, or which one betrays the least of Jungkook’s confidences.

In the end, he decides the Queen is a smart woman who is asking him for confirmation of what she's already guessed, rather than anything else.

‘For…you. He’s staying for you.’

‘Ah…I rather feared you might say that.’

The Queen leans back a little, swirling her cup in her palm.

‘Can I ask why you haven’t told him?’ She says. ‘Why doesn't he know that I was involved all along?’

‘Because you asked me not to.’

‘Don’t humour me, Jimin-ssi.’ She laughs. ‘How could I have stopped you? Won’t you tell me the truth?’

‘I suppose…I would have told him, if it made any difference.’

‘But it would have done, surely? Because he’s angry with you for it, isn’t he?’

‘He is.’ Jimin nods. ‘But the truth is I would have hurt you for his sake a thousand times. I would have lied to you about the poisoning, if you hadn’t agreed to work with me. And so when it came to Jungkook being angry about it, well it felt disingenuous somehow to try and defend my honour when I only didn’t do that because I didn’t need to. He was angry that I would hurt you for his sake and I would, so his anger was justified.’

The Queen stares at him for a moment and then she laughs.

‘Reasoned like a true scholar.’ She smiles. ‘And also a rather bold thing to say to your Queen, don't you think?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Luckily, I'm only glad you care for him so deeply.’

‘I…do.’

‘Well, then.’ She places her empty cup down on the little tray before them. ‘Thank you Park Jimin. I wish you well in your new life.’

‘Thank you, your majesty.’ He smiles. ‘I wish the same for you too.’

‘Oh, I’ll be okay. My daughter and I are looking forward to a quiet life as soon as Consort Park gives birth to a son. I have found I care for her a lot, you know, she's a sweet girl. I think she will be okay too. I think we might all be.’

‘Good.’ He meets her eyes. ‘You deserve it.’

~~🗡~~

The following day, when Jimin is due to leave the palace, Jungkook doesn’t come to say goodbye to him.

In a letter Jungkook wrote, fixed tightly onto the loop on Agmong’s leg, he said that if he didn’t say goodbye then it wouldn’t ever be the end.

But Jimin somehow feels that is only half of the truth.

Although he can’t help feeling that he understands in some way. That if they don’t say goodbye then Jimin is just off on some journey with an open end, that there is still some sort of silk thread between them that hasn’t been cut– only stretched longer, pulled tauter.

Jimin has already sent his things ahead of him to his new home, so it is only him on his horse that rides out through Hanseong with Agmong sitting on his shoulder, the thin silver chain on her leg fastened to his hanbok.

Because Jungkook didn’t come to say goodbye, Jimin thinks that it is only fair that he pretends he doesn’t see him come to watch him leave. That he doesn’t see Jungkook there, in his blue and green silk, standing in the shadow of the south gate on the last road out of Hanseong. That the figure doesn’t stand a little straighter as he hears the hooves of Jimin’s mare thundering closer.

It’s for Jungkook’s sake that he doesn’t look at him. That he just kicks his horse’s flanks and picks up pace, cantering along the long straight road toward his freedom.

~~~

~~🗡~~

~~~

Jungkook wanders through the busy streets, only half an eye on the market stalls around him. He’s stiflingly hot, so much so that he can’t quite remember why he thought it would be a good idea to come this way, other than that he was desperate for some distraction.

It’s humid, the hot, summer air sticking all of his clothes to his skin.

He lifts his head, turning to move a little closer to the market stalls that line the street, wondering if perhaps he might be able to purchase a fan…or a drink. Anything to ease the choking heat.

‘Hello there.’

Jungkook is rather struck by the informal greeting.

It isn’t that he necessarily cares, but it is a rather bold way to address him. Particularly when he looks up to see the smiling face of a young peasant boy, a long plait of hair down his back and a smudge of dirt on his cheek.

‘Are you okay, Jungkook-ssi?’ They boy asks and Jungkook frowns.

Until he looks again and realises it’s Mari.

‘Oh,’ he says. ‘Hello, uh–’

‘Jo Seungho.’ The other bows a little and Jungkook returns it, still a bit surprised. ‘Would you like something to drink? You look as though the heat is getting to you, if you don’t mind me being so bold.’

‘Ah, yes…actually.’

‘Come around here. You can take a seat with my brothers, if you aren’t too grand for it.’

Seungho gestures behind him to where two younger boys are sitting on a mat under the shade of the nearby buildings.

‘And…this is your stall?’ Jungkook asks, nodding at the table before them covered in small odds and ends.

‘My mother’s really. But I help, when I can.’ Seungho shrugs. ‘Sit down Lord Jeon, we have tea.’

Jungkook does feel better once he’s sat on a step in the cool shade with Seungho’s brothers, a small cup of tea in his hands. He recovers from the heat, but it also turns out that Seungho’s gentle chatter, to both the customers in the market and to Jungkook himself, is exactly the distraction he was looking for.

He ends up sitting there for much longer than he intended to, even being drawn into a game of sticks with Seungho’s brothers.

‘Have you heard from Jimin?’

‘Here I was just thinking you distracted me so nicely…’ Jungkook sighs.

‘Well, have you?’

‘No. Is he…okay?’

‘Are you?’

‘Yes…’

‘Will you promise me to write to him?’ Seungho asks. ‘We can call that your fee for the drink.’

‘And I thought that was given out of the goodness of your heart.’ Jungkook stands to his feet, brushing the dust off of his clothes. ‘I will be on my way now, thank you for the hospitality–’

‘Write to him!’

‘Good evening, Jo Seungho, it was a pleasure to meet you!’

‘Write to him!’

Jungkook bows to Seungho and to his brothers, and then begins to move away through the crowds, hearing Seungho still shouting after him.

He can’t help the little smile that creeps across his lips.

~~🗡~~

‘Jungkook, I need to tell you something…’

‘What is it?’

‘Will you come and sit for a moment?’

The Queen is sitting under the shade of a tree in the Huwon, the princess is playing on the shady grass before her with her maids.

Jungkook is on duty but he looks around the quiet gardens, and the other soldiers by the gate, and then does as she asks, kneeling down beside her blanket.

The Queen reaches out and touches his cheek lightly. Then drops her hand again. It’s an uncharacteristic show of affection and Jungkook has to resist lifting his own hand to touch the same spot.

‘I need to tell you that I know about Park Jimin.’

‘What?’

‘I know what he did to your father, Jungkook-ah. In fact I helped him do it.’

‘What?’

He knows his answers are rude, but he can't quite drag anything else out of his mouth. The Queen doesn’t seem to mind, in fact she potentially looks a little amused.

‘Yes, he came to me after your father tried to have you killed and he told me what had happened. He said neither of us would ever be safe with your father around and after I heard what he’d done I knew that Jimin was right. I knew I had to do whatever it took to protect you. So, I agreed to his schemes.’

‘Even…you knew that, the prince, that he wasn’t poisoned?’

‘Yes.’

‘And…you were okay with that?’

The Queen sighs. She looks away across the grass and then back to Jungkook with a soft look on her face.

‘Do you know that I love you as if you were my own child?’ She says and Jungkook looks up in surprise.

She has said so before, not in so many words, but the same kind of thing– though never with so much sincerity.

‘I…do.’

‘Well, your father really did try to kill you, Jungkook. So that is no different to him trying to kill Yisun. Not to me. Perhaps we twisted the truth to work for our purposes, but we didn’t really invent anything that he wasn’t capable of. And…your cousin wouldn’t mind, you know, he hated your father. I think he’d be rather pleased he got to help in vanquishing him.’

She’s holding in a smile, perhaps because they’re in public, perhaps because Jungkook is staring at him in utter shock.

He doesn’t really know how he feels. Whether he’s glad or angry, or neither…or both.

‘Why didn’t either of you say anything?’ He says after a while. ‘It’s something that has been hurting me greatly, thinking Jimin would be prepared to do that to you.’

‘I’m sorry for that.’ She answers. ‘At first I was ashamed. I didn’t want you to know that I was capable of something so devious. I didn’t want you to be angry with me…only in the end you have ended up angry at the wrong person. Because I asked Jimin to keep my confidence.’

Jungkook scoffs.

‘Well, that doesn't mean he should have. You wouldn’t have ever known if he told me.’

‘That’s exactly what I said to him!’

‘You saw him?’

‘Mm,’ the Queen looks as though she’s trying not to laugh again. ‘At Master Jung’s teahouse–’

‘You went to the kisaeng house?’

‘Sh!’

She does laugh then, bringing both her hands up to cover her face and Jungkook finds himself falling still as he listens to her.

It’s a pretty sound. Light and free.

When she pulls herself together he’s smiling back at her. She reaches out and takes his hand.

‘Part of being a good mother is knowing when to let those you care for go.’

‘Oh…’

‘I’m honestly sorry I ever brought you here.’ She murmurs. ‘I only wanted you to be safe. I thought that would be easier if you were by my side, but I think I was wrong.’

‘No, auntie, I wanted to be here with you–’

‘No you didn’t.’ She smiles. ‘You never did. Not ever. Do you forget all the little hidey holes you have been dragged from since you were a boy?’

‘I…haven’t.’

‘We were happy once upon a time, you and I, weren’t we?’ She says. ‘Back in the country house. Do you remember those times?’

‘Yes…’

‘They were some of the happiest years of my life.’

‘Mine too.’

‘But I have had happier ones as well.’ She sighs. ‘I can’t regret that I came to the palace, even if it wasn’t what I chose. Because I had my children here and they are the joy of my life, even if I didn’t get to keep all of them with me. You on the other hand, your happier years are yet to come.’

‘I am happy, your majesty.’

‘Oh, don’t lie to me.’ She points a little finger at him. ‘There hasn't been a single bit of light in your eyes since the day Advisor Park left court.’

Jungkook looks back at her in shock, trying to work out if there is any deeper implication in her words or not.

‘Such good friends are hard to come by in this life.’ She carries on. ‘You would be foolish to let him go.’

‘He’s already gone.’

‘Then why haven’t you followed?’

‘Your majesty, I–’

‘If it’s because of me you really are a fool! I'm quite capable of looking out for myself, Jungkook-ah.’

‘I know…’

‘Do you truly?’

‘No…’

‘Nobody cares about me anymore,’ the Queen shrugs, ‘and it is the most free I have ever been. I am old and barren. There aren’t any schemes in this old place that could hurt me anymore. Not now that I don’t care about maintaining my position. I can live the rest of my life with my daughter in peace.’

‘What if I want to do that with you?’

‘Then I will have to scold you again for being a liar.’

She smiles at him and Jungkook smiles back, fingers tugging at the grass beneath him.

~~🗡~~

‘Your majesty,’ Jungkook bows as he enters the Queen’s rooms and she looks up from her desk with a smile.

‘Oh, Jungkook-ah, I’m glad you’ve come. What can I do for you?’

He stops before her, offering another small bow.

‘Well, I have come to you regarding my position in the Yonghoyeong.’

‘You have? What a surprise.’ Her eyes glitter.

‘I would like to discuss a transfer with his majesty. To resign from the guard, honourably, if possible, and perhaps be relocated…elsewhere.’

‘I see…’

‘As you secured me the position, which I am very grateful for, I thought it might be best if you handled arrangements.’

‘Yes, that does seem best.’ She nods. ‘I’m sure I could arrange things for you. It will be a great shame to lose you. But I am also sure his majesty might understand why you would want to leave, after everything that happened.’

‘Thank you.’

‘So, the transfer. Did you have somewhere you would like to be stationed?’

‘A small village. In the south. Near Busan…’

‘A small village? Do they need a soldier stationed there, do you think?’

‘In the closest garrison to it would be fine.’

She smiles at him.

‘Very well, what is the village?’

~~🗡~~

Almost exactly a year after Jungkook returned to the palace last summer, he finds himself leaving it again. This time, he doesn't take the road North. Instead he rides south toward a small village just outside of Busan.

But on this journey, he isn’t filled with foreboding, only a little pit of excitement fluttering under his ribs.

It takes him three days and he’s exhausted by the time he finally gets to the little village by the sea. Exhausted, but no less excited.

Or impatient.

Even so, he has to stop in the village to ask for directions.

‘Are you a friend of his?’ The old woman he had asked says. ‘The handsome scholar? Or is he in trouble?’

‘Why would he be in trouble?’

She gestures at his military uniform.

‘Oh, no. We are old friends.’

‘Good then,’ she grins, ‘or I wouldn’t have shown you the way.’

~~🗡~~

The house he is looking for is positioned just outside the village, a little higher up the nearby hill and with a pretty view over the bay.

He’s a little bit in love with it before he’s even finished riding up the approach towards it. It is quite grand looking, with a green tiled roof and cherry trees lining the road.

Jungkook leaves his tired horse grazing and climbs the front steps, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. He takes a moment to breathe before he knocks.

But nobody answers.

He knocks several more times, getting steadily more impatient as he does so.

After waiting a little longer, he gives up and slides the door open.

It’s quiet inside and dark. Then light from the other side of the house catches his eyes and he realises the back doors are open. He walks through the house and as he does he catches sight of a beautiful ornamental garden. In the middle of it there is a small pond with a platform over it, complete with a small tiled roof that matches the rest of the house.

Not as grand as the pavilion at Changdeok Palace, but infinitely more beautiful.

The picture is no doubt helped by the man standing in it, leaning on the railing and looking down at the water. His hair is loose, falling over his shoulder, and Jungkook doesn’t think before he starts running toward him.

Jimin turns around when he hears him approaching but Jungkook doesn’t stop running until he crashes into him.

There are a thousand things he should say, instead he takes Jimin’s face in both of his hands and kisses him.

And Jimin wraps his arms around his neck and kisses him right back.

‘You’re here then.’ Jimin smiles when they break apart.

‘I am.’

‘Are you staying?’

‘If…you will let me.’

‘Of course I will.’

‘I’m sorry you had to wait for me.’

‘I would always wait for you.’

Jimin smiles against his cheek. ‘But…it's only been two months, Jungkook-ah, I've had colds that lasted longer–’

‘What?’ Jungkook lifts his head to find Jimin grinning at him, biting his bottom lip to hold it in.

‘It hasn't really been that long,’ he says, ‘were you so desperate for me?’

‘Jimin-'

‘Have you been moping around the palace? Have you? Utterly forlorn and desperate without me–’

‘I can't believe you're making a joke right now–’

‘I know you have, by the way, Seungho ratted you out. Said you've been wandering the streets like a stray puppy–’

‘Jimin! You're ruining a perfectly romantic reunion. There's late flowering blossom and everything…you should be weeping–’

‘No.’

‘No?’

Jimin grins, holding Jungkook's face in his hands, light dancing in his eyes.

‘I said I'd tease you, didn't I?’ He whispers into a kiss. ‘For the rest of our lives?’

‘Did you really need to start now…’ Jungkook murmurs back. ‘I really was feeling sentimental. I've loved you for a long time, Jimin, since we were young, and it breaks my heart how much time I have wasted.’

‘Time can’t be wasted, Jungkook-ah, not when the path takes you where you need to go in the end.’

~~~

~~🗡~~

~~~

Rain lashes against the little hanok, the wooden panels rattling in the biting wind.

Jimin bites his lip, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve.

Jungkook is late. Really late.

He should've been here hours ago, while it was still light out. He’d only gone into the village for some fish for their meal tomorrow.

And then the rain came. It shouldn't be anything to stop Jungkook, just a late summer downpour. But along with the darkness that had now fallen, it added to Jimin's worry.

Perhaps he’d gone down to the docks to help with the boats in the unexpected storm. He's done so before, enjoying the compliments he gets from the aunties that pinch the muscles at the tops of his arms when he tugs at the ropes.

Even so, he should be home soon.

Jimin is one moment from going out to find him, when he hears the door and he scrambles to his feet.

Jungkook is stooping as he comes through, huddled over, his arms wrapped around his body and Jimin rushes at him.

‘Careful–’ Jungkook flinches back.

‘What is it? You're hurt? What happened?’

‘Uh, no, I'm not hurt, it's…’

He pulls back his coat, revealing a sodden, furry bundle inside and Jimin wrinkles his nose.

‘What…is it? Jungkook-ah, it smells really bad…’

‘Ah, well, give him a break, he's half dead I fear.’

He steps into the room, still cradling the bundle and Jimin hurries to close the door behind him to stop the rain splashing on the boards inside.

When he turns back, Jungkook is grinning at him sheepishly, absolutely drenched to the bone.

‘Will you light the agungi, my love?’

‘It's the middle of summer!’

‘Well, he's cold, we need to warm him up…’

Jimin pads across the floor, lifting the corner of Jungkook's hanbok and peeking inside.

‘Who is he?’

‘A cat…’

‘Oooh,’ Jimin whistles. ‘Agmong is going to kill you.’

It turns out the bundle in Jungkook's clothes is a half dead, half starved old tom cat he'd found stuck in a rain gutter. He'd even used up all of Jimin's fish, coaxing him out of it.

The cat is an ugly looking thing, with patchy grey fur and one of his bottom teeth stuck out over his top lip. Jimin thinks he smells atrocious. But Jungkook adores him. He spends the next few days coaxing him back to health, feeding him little tiny bits of warm meat and warmed up bone broth.

Obviously, after that it isn't a question whether he's staying. Jimin should have known that from the minute Jungkook stood there, that grin on his face, the both of them dripping all over the floor.

They call him Eunie, after his distinctive pale grey coat.

Surprisingly, Agmong doesn't hate him.

Or rather, she isn't afraid of him at least. In fact she seems to delight in taunting him. Jimin sometimes even catches her pulling at the end of the poor old cat's tail, hopping up and down as if it were a game. He shoos her away, but Agmong’s laugh echoes down at them as she flies away and lands in a nearby tree.

~~🗡~~

‘Are you writing about me?’

Jimin lifts his head from his book. Jungkook is standing on the steps at the front of their little house in just his undershirt and a pair of badly tied baji.

‘Why would I be writing about you?’

‘You’re always writing about me. Your verses about my beautiful cock have paid for half our house.’

Jimin tugs off his slipper and throws it at him, but Jungkook ducks and skips across the little garden in amusement.

Agmong hops about his feet and cackles.

‘They’re idiots. I know.’ Jimin scratches Eunie’s head, where he’s curled in his lap.

Truthfully, he thinks he might never get tired of seeing Jungkook like that, relaxed and half dressed, pottering about their garden doing who knows what, not caring that his leg is uncovered, or that he limps when he runs without any shoes on.

Technically, it’s Jimin’s house, not theirs.

But Jungkook barely left it, only occasionally staying at the local garrison as if to show his face at what Jimin can only assume is a very plum job arranged by the Queen. He isn’t even really sure what Jungkook does for a living aside from that he gets a small salary from the crown and there’s a military uniform hanging in one of the spare rooms.

It isn’t as if Jimin worked much harder, easing himself into the life of a proper country Seonbi, talking vaguely sometimes of setting up his own seowon or writing poetry to send to Hoseok in Hanseong.

Besides, he likes the ease with which Jungkook called it theirs.

~~🗡~~

‘Get a bucket!’

‘What are they up to now?’ Jimin sighs, resting his chin on his palm.

‘Get a bucket! A bowl…Jimin-ah? Quick!’

The shouting is coming from outside, Jungkook is yelling as if a great disaster has struck and yet Jimin barely flinches.

Neither does his student, in fact she barely looks up from the page where she is inking a row of neat characters.

‘He’s calling you not me…’ she says, a small smile on her face before it’s taken over by concentration again.

A few minutes later, the front door bursts open and Jungkook strides in. He’s bending over with his hands scooped together and held in front of him.

‘We have an emergency!’ He pronounces.

‘I bet we don’t…’

‘We do! Mama there’s a frog and he’s hurt.’ A little boy runs past Jungkook, after closing the door, and rushes across the floor toward them.

Lady Kim gives Jimin a little look, then puts her brush down with a sigh, pushing herself back from the table so her son can climb into her lap.

‘Jiminie, did you not hear me? Could you get a bucket for the frog?’ Jungkook says again, still hovering by the door.

‘He’s only got three legs.’ Miyong says, looking up at his mother earnestly. ‘Dad says that isn’t enough.’

‘Oh, well, I guess that does sound like an emergency…’

Jimin gets to his feet with a sigh, heading to the kitchen for something to put the frog in. He has no doubt it has just joined the household for good.

~~🗡~~

One of Jimin’s favourite things about living by the sea, is that they can take their horses and ride across the sand whenever they wish to, and that, however many times they do it, Jungkook will never stop racing him.

They don’t do it as much as they used to, not like in the first months after they left the city and both of them could barely bear to stay inside. As if one moment they didn’t spend riding full speed through the countryside was a waste of their freedom. As if perhaps they didn’t quite believe in it and were waiting for everything to fall apart.

But even if they do so less these days, Jimin never stops feeling the same rush in his chest as they tear across the beach, the horses hooves making that distinctive thud in the wet sand and Jungkook’s laugh echoing around them. And every single time, Jimin remembers the first time, years ago, and how good it felt to feel so free.

~~~

~~🗡~~

~~~

1770, Changdeok Palace

‘You’re not supposed to be here.’

Jungkook rubs his face furiously, trying to brush away some of the tears that cover his cheeks, and then looks up toward the voice.

There’s a boy standing in front of him. About his age, maybe a little older, and he’s looking down at Jungkook with a frown and one finger pointed at him menacingly.

‘Oh,’ the boy says, finger lowering, ‘you’re crying…’

Jungkook covers his face again, burying it in his knees.

Just his luck that someone found him to taunt him. It almost makes him start crying again and that just makes him feel worse.

‘Go away.’ He snaps, muffled in his hands.

‘No.’ The boy answers. ‘Even if you are sad you really shouldn’t be here. Don’t you know it’s a sacred site?’

‘Don’t care.’

And he really, really doesn’t. All he wanted was somewhere to cry in peace. Somewhere his father wouldn’t see and beat him for it.

Though he will anyway, Jungkook has no doubt.

‘Well, you should be careful.’ The boy won’t give up, clearly.

He’s a bit annoying, talking to Jungkook like he’s an adult when he isn’t even any taller. Jungkook lifts his head again grudgingly.

‘No, I shouldn’t.’

‘You should.’ The boy pulls a self important face. ‘What about all the ghosts and evil spirits?’

‘The what?’

‘Exactly! These ginkgo trees are full of them, ghosts of all the long dead scholars and all those who never passed the gwageo…and maybe even Confucius himself! They all die and then their spirits get sucked into these trees and…and that’s why they’re so stinky! It’s all the angry spirits leaking out and–’

The boy has sat down opposite Jungkook, crossing his legs and gesturing wildly as he tells the story that almost seems as much for his own benefit as Jungkook’s.

‘-and that’s why you shouldn’t be here! In case they decide to suck you into the tree too. Or maybe possess you, or–’

‘I…don’t think that’s true…’

‘What?’ The boy frowns at him, wrongfooted at being stopped mid-story.

‘If the tree was full of evil spirits they would cut it down…’

‘Nope! Anybody that tries would get struck dead. If you don’t believe me you should turn around and listen for yourself. If you press your ear against the bark, you’ll hear the spirits inside whispering and begging to be released.’

Jungkook can’t help the shudder he lets out, or the way he shuffles away from the tree he had been leaning on, giving it a suspicious look over his shoulder.

‘Anyway, why were you crying?’

‘I…don’t have to tell you that.’

‘No. You don’t.’ The other shrugs.

‘They wouldn’t let me see my aunt.’ Jungkook sniffs, feeling that little prickle of tears again. ‘I haven't seen her in a long time and we came here for her wedding, so I thought I could see her…but I wasn’t allowed. And I…’

He cuts off before he starts crying again. He doesn't want the other boy to think he’s a baby.

‘That’s rough. I can see why you’re upset.’

‘Yeah…’

‘I can leave you to cry in peace if you want?’

‘How did you know about the ghosts?’ Jungkook asks him instead and the other boy grins.

‘Oh well, there are loads in the palace.’

Then he launches into frighteningly detailed descriptions of all the gruesome spirits that live around them and just how exactly they chose to maim and possess unwitting victims.

Jungkook is all at once terrified and totally captivated. His tears are long gone, just leaving sticky tracks half dried on his cheeks.

‘I should really go.’ The boy says after finishing another story.

He stands back up again and then turns to grin at Jungkook.

‘Just be careful, won’t you? If you hear rustling, put your hands over your ears so the spirits can’t climb inside your head.’

Jungkook slams both of his hands over his ears immediately and the other boy bends double as he laughs.

‘Cute.’ He says. ‘Here.’

The boy reaches out a hand, uncurling his fingers to reveal a fat, sticky songpyeon in his palm. It’s rolled in dried petals, clearly from the wedding celebrations back at the main palace.

Jungkook takes it and stuffs it in his mouth.

‘Something sweet always makes me feel better after I've cried.’

‘Thank you.’ He says, cheeks full.

‘That’s okay!’

Then he starts to walk away, waving over his shoulder as he goes.

‘Wait!’

‘Yeah?’ He looks back over his shoulder.

‘Why were you here?’ Jungkook asks, swallowing the last of the songpyeon thickly. ‘If it’s out of bounds?’

‘Oh, well, do you know what that building is?’

Jungkook looks where he points and then nods.

‘It’s Sunkyunkwan.’

‘Yep.’ The boy nods. ‘One day I’m going to go there. I’m going to be the top scholar in the whole country. I haven’t been to the palace before, so I wanted to have a look at it.’

‘Oh…’ Jungkook nods, impressed though he isn’t entirely sure why. ‘That’s…good.’

The boy just smiles.

‘Bye then! And remember–’ he lifts his hands up to show covering his ears.

He bursts into laughter as he turns away and the sound of it rattles echoes in Jungkook’s mind long after he’s gone.