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Chapter Text

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“A witch, mother? Really?” Min Yoongi asked, his words coming out alongside a fond but exasperated sigh. His mother was nothing if not diligent in her love for everything occult. You’d think being the queen would mean that she toned it down a bit, but she did not. Nothing toned down Choi Sooyoung. It was one of the things her husband, Yoongi’s father, loved about her. Which is probably how they ended up with a court witch like that was a normal thing.

The queen smiled at him, unruffled by her son’s tone. “Of course! He’s lovely. Powerful too.”

“Oh? Did he demonstrate his remarkable skills?” Yoongi wondered pointedly. “Pull a rabbit out of a hat and all that?”

“You’d think,” the queen murmured, “your hair would be enough to convince you magic was real.”

Yoongi paused, his hand moving to his hair automatically. He’d left it mostly down today since he’d known he’d be spending most of his time with his brother and that allowed his fingers to tangle in ends and fiddle subconsciously. Yoongi, quite honestly, didn’t know what to think of his hair. His mother had always said it was a blessing left by a witch who’d stayed with them while she was pregnant. His father never commented, though he did admit a woman claiming to be a witch had stayed on the palace grounds around that time. Other people had different theories, of course. Some thought it was a curse of some kind, a warning to the rest of the royal family to behave properly. Yoongi would believe that more if he was the heir, but he wasn’t, so it seemed like a bit of a waste. The most common rumour was simply that he was illegitimate. That seemed… more plausible. Or it would be if he didn’t look so much like both his father and older brother.

He wasn’t going to say any of that to his mother, of course, so he simply sighed. “At least promise me he doesn’t have a cat. You know I’m allergic.”

“No cat,” the queen promised immediately, still smiling. She was in too good a mood after finally convincing the witch Kim Seokjin to take a post at the royal court—he’d been very opposed at first—so even her son’s disbelief couldn’t ruin it for her. “Did you want to meet him? I’m going to his new quarters tomorrow for tea.”

“I’m okay,” Yoongi rejected. The last thing he needed was to waste an afternoon with someone claiming to be a witch. “I have to meet with brother about the growing tensions in the west anyway.”

The queen hummed, frowning slightly. “Perhaps I’ll ask Seokjin about that.”

“Seokjin?” Yoongi repeated, tilting his head in confusion.

“The new witch!”

Yoongi groaned. “Mother. Please refrain from getting diplomatic advice from someone claiming to be a witch.”

The queen waved his words away. “I’ll do what I want. Now, shoo, off with you. I have to change for dinner with your father.”

“Since when are we having dinner with father?” Yoongi asked, frowning again. They didn’t often get to eat together, there simply wasn’t enough time in the day, especially given the sheer number of duties all four of them had.

“We’re not, I am,” the queen said with a small smile. “It’s our anniversary.”

Yoongi blinked. “Your anniversary is in August. It’s March.”

“Yes, I’m aware, Yoongi,” the queen huffed out. “If you must know, it’s the anniversary of when your father asked me to marry him. Or rather, of when he stuttered out something he claims was a proposal, dropped a jade pendant at my feet, and then ran away. He was very sweet back then. You remind me of him.”

Considering Yoongi knew their marriage had been arranged, Yoongi wasn’t entirely sure under what circumstances his father could have butchered a proposal, but he smiled anyway. He counted himself among the very lucky because not only did his parents like each other, they seemed to actually love each other. That wasn’t common among the people he associated with, it wasn’t something he himself would ever have, so it was nice to see. “Then I hope you have a lovely evening, mother.”

“I will,” the queen promised, pushing up on her toes to kiss Yoongi on the cheek. “Do make sure your brother actually eats dinner this evening, will you?”

“I will,” Yoongi echoed, returning his mother’s kiss before leaving the room so she could get ready, all thoughts of the new court witch entirely forgotten.

♔♔♔

Kim Seokjin hadn’t planned on taking an appointment at the royal court, he really hadn’t, but he found, despite his age and power, refusing the will of the current queen was quite impossible. He’d seen a few in his day, all passing with little notice, but Queen Choi Sooyoung was a force. He liked her immediately. Which was probably why he’d agreed despite his desire to wander freely and his overall disdain for pretty much all authority figures.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a spell that gets out wine stains, would you?” The queen in question asked, frowning slightly as she sipped her tea.

Seokjin considered for a moment, going over his more simple cleaning spells. “I might actually.”

“Really?” The queen murmured, brightening considerably. “If I had someone bring over a set of robes, could you try and fix them? I know it’s not within your duties per se…”

“It’s fine,” Seokjin assured her. “I will, however, need the story as payment.”

The queen snorted and shook her head. She liked Seokjin a lot. He was sassy and fun and, unlike everyone else in her life aside from her family, didn’t bend over backwards to placate her. “My husband is quite clumsy when he’s nervous and it was a special night last night. He knocked over my cup.”

Seokjin laughed. “The king did this?”

“He did,” the queen admitted, smiling a bit at the memory. Her husband may run a country and command an army of thousands, but, when all that was stripped away, he was still just the awkward man who’d offered to run away with her if she didn’t want to be queen.

“Amazing,” Seokjin sighed out. “You get all the best gossip at the royal palace.”

“The king being clumsy isn’t exactly a national secret.”

“No, but the fact he still gets flustered around his wife might be! Think of the romance stories that could be told from this!” Seokjin declared.

Rolling her eyes, unaware both her sons got the habit from her, the queen shook her head and set her teacup down. “Anyway, I’ll have someone bring it over this evening.”

“Of course. I’ll see what I can do,” Seokjin agreed easily. It wasn’t an incredibly complicated spell, so he wasn’t worried. If that was all the queen wanted him to do while he lived here, he was going to end up living the high life with little to no effort.

The queen nodded. “Do you do predictions?”

Seokjin raised a brow. He’d spoken too soon. “Like is this woman a good match for my son or like is this country going to attack tomorrow?”

“The latter,” the queen murmured.

“Well, I can do both but the second is much harder,” Seokjin admitted, taking a sip of his tea. “The more variables involved, the less accurate my predictions can be. It’s impossible to know what everyone will do at every given moment.”

Pursing her lips, the queen stared at Seokjin somewhat blankly. He could see the wheels turning in her head, knew she was thinking of what to do or say next, so he waited. Eventually, she nodded to herself like she was confirming something then spoke again, “What would you need to get the most accurate prediction?”

Seokjin sighed and set down his now empty cup. “I’ll give you a list.”

♔♔♔

“Sometimes it’s just easier to not ask questions.”

Yoongi raised a brow. “That doesn’t sound very kingly of you.”

Crown Prince Min Hyungki, Yoongi’s older brother, rolled his eyes. “Good thing I’m not king.”

“Not yet,” Yoongi pointed out as he poured another drink for his brother before topping up his own. “And how could I not ask questions when she’s moved a witch into the palace? Have you seen him?”

“Not yet,” Hyungki admitted with a small shrug. “Father approved it.”

Yoongi hummed and sipped his drink. “Of course he did.”

“He’s probably harmless. The guards will keep an eye on him anyway,” Hyungki assured him.

“She wanted to ask him about his opinion on the war,” Yoongi revealed with a small sigh. “I’ll never understand her blind trust in people like that.”

Hyungki leaned forward, resting one elbow on the table between them as he raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. “Really? You’re asking that after she popped out a blonde baby?”

“Don’t blame me for this; I can’t choose my hair!” Yoongi snapped, waving the hand holding his drink abruptly enough that it sloshed over the rim and soaked his fingers. Yoongi huffed petulantly, pouting at his older brother for making him spill his drink. “Look what you made me do!”

“I didn’t tell you to be dramatic,” Hyungki rebutted even as he held out a cloth so Yoongi could wipe his hand. “And I wasn’t blaming you. I was simply pointing out that your hair is the only sign she’ll ever need that magic exists.”

Yoongi sighed as he dried his hand. “Her story doesn’t even make sense! Why protect the backup heir?!”

“You are not the backup heir,” Hyungki snapped harshly, frowning at Yoongi, who merely rolled his eyes. “Yoongi, seriously—”

“Oh my god, hyung, I’m not upset about it. I’m not sixteen years old anymore,” Yoongi interrupted. He appreciated his brother’s defence, but it’d been a long time since he’d allowed the whispers of his age-mates to affect how he viewed himself and his place within his family. He supposed if he’d had different parents, a different brother, he’d have had a harder time, but he didn’t. His parents cared about them both and, since his father had had to fight his own brother for the crown, he’d always had a close relationship with Hyungki as a result. He knew where he stood.

Hyungki narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, scanning his face like he was looking for something, and then nodded. “As long as you know.”

“I know you love me,” Yoongi promised, then added because he couldn’t help himself, “even if I’m the cursed bastard child marked by the devil with blonde hair.”

“Yoongi,” Hyungki hissed, “don’t you— you’re kidding. Why are you like this?”

Clutching his stomach as he laughed, Yoongi fell over, his breath wheezing. “You should have seen your face!”

“Is that any way to talk to the future king?!”

“Not the king yet,” Yoongi reminded him, still laughing.

Hyungki pursed his lips, refusing to smile even if the pure delight on his younger brother’s face made him want to. He wished they had more time alone, just like this. It was so rare these days and when they were together, they almost always had to talk about the possibility of war—a war which would put Yoongi on the front lines as the second son. It was a scary thought. Hyungki could still remember how small Yoongi had looked all wrapped up in a blanket when he’d first seen him and that almost instantaneous desire to protect him hadn’t faded with time. If anything, it’d only gotten stronger as they’d grown older. “You done?”

“Almost,” Yoongi managed, still snickering as he sat up, his hands moving to his hair and pulling it into a ponytail as he tried to get his laughter under control. “Alright, I’m done.”

“Thank you so much for your effort,” Hyungki said snidely, rolling his eyes again.

Yoongi snorted again and shook his head, the end of his ponytail falling onto his shoulder and trailing down his chest. “I should go back to my chambers. We have that meeting with father in the morning.”

Hyungki hummed and finished off his drink. “You’re right. If we’re tired for that meeting the general will never let father hear the end of it.”

“He’ll complain regardless,” Yoongi sighed out as he pushed himself up. “He’s been disappointed in us since… well, ever.”

“I hope he retires before I have to deal with him,” Hyungki muttered, surprising Yoongi. He was usually better at hiding his disdain for the members of the inner court. But before he could ask a follow-up question, like why, Hyungki stood up as well. “Sleep well, little brother.”

Yoongi smiled softly. “You too, hyung. Say hi to your wife for me. And my future niece or nephew.”

Hyungki inclined his head and moved toward his inner rooms where his wife was likely already sleeping. She was almost six months pregnant and the doctors had ordered her to rest more, which Hyungki took to heart. Yoongi was sure the woman hadn’t been able to lift a finger since the order came down. 

Rolling his shoulders, Yoongi left the rooms and headed across the courtyard towards his own. It was late but the night sky was bright enough that his path was well illuminated. He found himself moving slowly, his thoughts wandering back to the last part of their conversation. General Park had never liked him or Hyungki. He was older than their father and complained that the newest generation was soft. Yoongi often speculated that this had more to do with the fact that his oldest son was a gardener who loved nothing more than pretty flowers, but he’d never asked, mostly because he didn’t care. He didn’t think Hyungki cared either, but his attitude suggested otherwise. He couldn’t imagine what he must have said to make Hyungki so vocally upset with him.

Maybe he’d spoken ill of his wife? Oh Taeso wasn’t of the best family line—her father was a merchant—but they were wealthy and had connections overseas, which is why their father had approved of the marriage. That and the fact that Hyungki had all but refused to get married to anyone else. He was apparently in a family of romantics and he’d never even noticed. 

Perhaps that had more to do with the fact that he’d long ago resigned himself to, well, unhappiness. He didn’t blame his family, no one but Hyungki knew anyway, but there wasn’t anything that could be done. He’d either die alone or be married off to some woman of his mother’s choosing. He supposed, if he was lucky, they could form a platonic bond over the years and he’d be content, but he knew he’d never be happy. Not really. He’d figured that out about a minute after he’d realized that the only people who made his heart race and palms sweat were men.

Such is life.

Lost in his thoughts, Yoongi barely noticed when he wandered past his own quarters and into another courtyard. The only reason he noticed at all was because he wasn’t alone. Halting his steps, Yoongi stared at the man sitting in the middle of the courtyard, his face tilted up towards the sky. Yoongi couldn’t see all of him, it was too dark, but his features were illuminated just like his path home had been and Yoongi was pretty sure he’d stopped breathing. It was like the man glowed under the moonlight, like all the light was bending towards him just so it could bounce off his face and neck. Yoongi swallowed, his eyes tracing over delicate features and plush lips. The man was simply beautiful; there just weren’t enough words to describe it.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared at him, but eventually, the man’s head turned and his eyes met Yoongi’s. His expression didn’t change, remaining impassive and so fucking pretty but he did stand. Even that motion was fluid and Yoongi was starting to wonder if he’d drank more than he’d thought because real people weren’t this perfect. 

“Your Highness.”

Even his voice. Fuck. 

“Did I disturb you?”

Yoongi blinked rapidly, his eyes sweeping around to reveal that he was in the wrong courtyard. “No, I was just walking before bed. You’re fine.”

The man inclined his head but didn’t move further. Yoongi wanted to say something, literally anything, but he just kept staring at him. Somewhere in the back of his head, he realized with a dawning sort of horror that he was more like his father than he thought and his mother was right, but that didn’t help.

“Did you need something, Your Highness?”

“No, uh, no. Continue,” Yoongi managed, spinning on his heel and heading back in the direction of his chambers. He allowed himself to glance back once and saw the man return to his seat, his face tilting right back up to the stars, and sighed. He’d always been weak to a pretty face. Maybe if he asked around, he could find out the name attached to it.

♔♔♔

By some miracle, Yoongi arrived at the meeting room before the general and his father. The latter wasn’t so surprising since the king always arrived last but beating the general really was. He raised a brow at his brother, who shrugged imperceptibly, his hands still folded behind his back as he waited patiently. Yoongi moved to his side as he was expected and mimicked his position,

His silence lasted all of three seconds.

“So, is there a guest in the east courtyard?” Yoongi murmured quietly, keeping his voice low enough that the attendants in the room wouldn’t hear him.

Hyungki tilted his head slightly. “We don’t have anyone visiting at the moment.”

Yoongi hummed. “Interesting.”

“Why?”

“I saw a man sitting there when I returned to my room last night,” Yoongi explained.

“And you didn’t call the guards?” Hyungki asked pointedly, actually turning to Yoongi this time in shock. A random man in the palace wasn’t exactly common.

Yoongi felt his cheeks flush. That… would have been the correct course of action—gods, he hadn’t even asked who he was—but he’d been more than a little distracted by his looks and, in his defence, he’d also been drinking! “He greeted me properly so I just… stop looking at me like that.”

Hyungki sighed. “Yoo—”

Before he could continue, the door opened, and the general came in. He looked displeased already and Yoongi held back his own sigh. His morning was off to a phenomenal start. He was a little hungover, he may or may not have let a man run free in the palace because he was hot, and now the general was upset. Fantastic.

“Crown Prince Hyungki,” the general bowed before turning to Yoongi, “Prince Yoongi.”

“General Park,” Yoongi returned, bowing slightly just after his brother. 

The general scanned them quickly then moved to the table set up in the middle of the room with a map spread out on top. He and his brother had been pouring over it for the better part of three days, trying to plan accordingly. The general looked it over, his lips pressing into a thin line, but he didn’t say anything. Yoongi had no idea if that was a good or bad thing but considering he’d come up with the bulk of the plans, he hoped it was good. He really didn’t want to have to defend himself to the general in front of his father.

“King Min Byungho,” a servant announced, stepping into the room and holding the door open. A few moments later, the king entered, his face impassive.

“Your Highness,” they greeted in unison, bowing appropriately before straightening. The king’s eyes swept the room to make sure everyone was there, then he inclined his head and moved to the head of the table without a word. Yoongi was a little surprised, his father was more chatty than that, but given the situation, he figured he was too focused.

“Explain the situation,” the king ordered simply.

The general stepped forward to speak, but Hyungki raised a hand and looked at Yoongi. “You’ve been studying the situation longer than any of us.”

Yoongi hesitated a moment, his eyes flicking to the very pissed-off expression of the general, then nodded. The king waved his hand, which Yoongi took as a go-ahead, so he began to speak, “So far, there have been no attacks or even declarations of intent, however, several towns along our western border have reported seeing more foreigners than usual. We didn’t really think anything of it, but I sent a few men just in case and they spotted several encampments just outside of sight range on the other side of the border.”

“How did they find them?” The king asked.

“I sent Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi said in way of explanation.

The king blinked. “He crossed the border, didn’t he?”

Yoongi kept his face impassive. Namjoon was a great diplomat, a great councilman, and, honestly, one of the few people Yoongi considered to be a friend in the palace. He was, however, known for doing things in a roundabout or unusual way. He always got results though so, after the first few times he’d listened to Namjoon explain how he’d broken about fifteen rules to get the job done, he stopped asking. His father was more than aware of this. It was, apparently, a family trait and Namjoon’s father had been the same. “I am not aware if that is the case.”

“Right,” the king sighed, “continue.”

“As of now, we have confirmed reports of ten encampments, all with under a hundred men. It’s not enough for a full-scale attack as of yet, but the locals are understandably anxious.”

“Have they responded to letters?” The king asked.

Hyungki stepped slightly forward. “One. They said they were doing training exercises and implied we were spying on them.”

The king tapped the table, his eyes flicking over the map in front of him. So far, the plans he could see in place were entirely defensive and precautionary. There were no fighting units in place. Or, more accurately, nothing that could be seen as an act of aggression if word spread to the other side as it had to theirs. He knew without asking that Yoongi had done the planning. He didn’t have an aggressive bone in his body, and, though he was happy about that, it worried him now. He didn’t want war, but he also didn’t want to be caught unprepared.

“General Park?” The king said, allowing his voice to lilt up, indicating that he was asking a question.

“My reports from the border guards are similar. There’s an increase in travellers to nearby markets but no indication they are military men or spies. That being said, it is naive to assume they are not.”

“What do you recommend?” 

Yoongi tensed slightly, irritated. The general was undoubtedly going to recommend something more aggressive, ignoring Yoongi and Hyungki’s established plans. He knew he didn’t have any practical experience in war, but the general had always been far too militaristic for his liking. His answer to everything was attack first, ask questions later. You’d think he’d be better at strategy after living for so long.

“I’d recommend strengthening the border guard and putting at least as many units in place along the border as a warning,” the general said, his hand moving to the map so he could point to where he thought the units should go. They were all in obvious places and could easily be seen from the border. Yoongi knew that was the point of his recommendation, but it still pissed him off.

“That could be seen as an act of aggression,” Yoongi pointed out.

“They’re doing the same,” the general returned.

Before Yoongi could reply, the king interrupted, “Mark where you think they should go on the map.”

The general did as he was told and Yoongi felt his already stiff body go even more rigid. He didn’t think it was possible but here he was anyway. His brother clearly noticed, the fabric of his robe sweeping along Yoongi’s hand in comfort. He couldn’t touch him, couldn’t offer any real comfort, not here, but he did his best and Yoongi appreciated it.

Once the general was done, the king nodded toward his attendant. “Bring him in.”

“Him?” Hyungki repeated, confusion clear in his voice. Yoongi frowned, surprised that his brother didn’t know what was going on. A quick look at the general told him he wasn’t in the loop either.

A few seconds later, the door opened again and the same attendant directed a tall, vaguely familiar man into the room. Yoongi blinked at him, trying to place him, then made a small noise in surprise. He felt his brother look at him curiously but before he could ask, the attendant announced the man, “Kim Seokjin, court witch.”

Court witch.

Yoongi felt like someone had just dunked him in a lake during the middle of winter. He’d been lusting after the witch his mother had dragged into the palace? This bad morning just kept getting worse.

He was still pretty though.

“Your Highness,” Seokjin bowed politely.

“The queen said she gave you the things needed to make the most accurate prediction about the possibility of an upcoming war,” the king said seriously. “Is that true?”

Seokjin nodded. “I warned her it’s not an exact science. Free will prevents anything from being a guarantee.”

“I’m aware. What did you find?” The king asked.

Hyungki and Yoongi both frowned, their attention split between the king and the witch. Yoongi didn’t like this but, on the bright side, the general looked absolutely livid. Yoongi was seriously wondering if he’d just have a heart attack and drop dead then and there. He was not proud of the small part of him that wasn’t upset by that possibility.

“If all stays as it is now, there will not be a war,” Seokjin said firmly.

The king raised a brow. “What does that mean?”

Seokjin walked toward the table, his hand gesturing to the map. “The placements of the soldiers during this— who changed this?”

“I did—”

“Shush,” Seokjin hissed, his impassive face changing into something harder and more irritated. He leaned forward, his head tilting as he examined the new markings on the map. “These weren’t on the map the queen gave me.”

“No,” the king agreed, “I had them added just before bringing you in.”

Seokjin’s frown deepened, his eyes fixed on the map, then he snorted. It was a nasty sound, full of disdain, and Yoongi couldn’t keep the surprise from his face. No one, and he meant no one, treated the king with such… impertinence. The king looked shocked by it, but Seokjin wasn’t looking at him. Even when the general moved forward, a hand on his sword like he was going to cut him down, Seokjin didn’t react. He just shook his head again. “Royalty. You’re all the same.”

“Excuse me?” Hyungki snapped. “You will address the king properly.”

“Why? He won’t be one for much longer,” Seokjin said with an air of knowledge. “Or he’ll be the king of two territories, one of which will do everything in their power to free themselves. Either way, neither version of him deserves my respect. I’ll be taking my leave.”

“You—”

“What do you mean by that?” The king interrupted, his voice steady and calm.

Seokjin’s eyes flitted back to the king. He stared at him for a moment, as if assessing his character, then answered, “I mean, even without taking the time to do my predictions as I had done for the previous version of this map, I can tell this plan will start an all-out war. People will die. Innocent people. The people you don’t seem to take into account when you plan things like this. Or rather, the people who planned the second part of this map don’t. The first…” Seokjin trailed off, his eyes dipping to the map again. “The first plan prioritized the people and, based on my predictions, that stops the war from happening. I’m not sure how—things are always quite vague in the middle since anything and everything can change—but, in the end, there is no war.”

Yoongi didn’t believe in magic. Even with everyone he knew telling him he was a product of it, he didn’t believe. He did, however, believe in human nature and he agreed with Seokjin. He’d made his plans to save the people on the border. His brother had helped him, adding input from his own experience, for the same reason. They wanted to protect people. The general did not. Regardless of Yoongi’s opinion on the supposed witch in front of him, he was thankful that he was making such a show of his disagreement. Yoongi couldn’t do that, but he clearly could.

“You can guarantee there will be no war?” The king asked.

“I cannot,” Seokjin said simply. “I told you, people have free will. There are a million and fifteen steps between now and the outcome I saw. If any of them change from what was supposed to happen at the time I looked, the outcome can change. But, as of last night, there was no war.”

Yoongi realized, rather belatedly, that was what he’d seen last night. When he’d walked into the courtyard and Seokjin had been sitting alone on the stones looking at the sky, he’d been… predicting? Or whatever the fuck he called it. Yoongi frowned slightly, trying to remember if he’d seen any sort of witchy paraphernalia, but he couldn’t remember anything. That didn’t really make sense to him. Where was the… drama? Wasn’t that what pretending to be a witch was all about?

“Your Highness! You can’t be—” the general began, his voice shaking with anger.

“Silence,” the king interrupted. “I don’t want war, that was never my intent. If the original plan will work, we’ll go with that until it doesn’t.”

“Your Highness!”

“See that it is done,” the king ordered, looking at Hyungki.

Hyungki nodded. “I will issue the orders after we are dismissed.”

“Then you are,” the king said simply, leaving the table. Unlike when he entered, this time he moved past where Hyungki and Yoongi were standing. He paused for a moment, his hand reaching out and touching Yoongi’s shoulder gently, then he was continuing on, leaving the room with a trail of attendants. 

“You’re going to ruin this country. We’ll fall and it will be your fault because you are spineless.” Yoongi blinked, his attention still on the door his father had just left through. He wasn’t aware the general was talking to him specifically until he added, “I supposed we can blame the curse for this too. Ever since you were born—”

“Enough,” Hyungki interrupted, his voice loud and hard. “General Park, you will apologize to my brother and you will leave.”

The general simply huffed and spun on his heel. He didn’t apologize but Yoongi hadn’t expected him to. He could feel Hyungki practically vibrate with anger, but Yoongi just touched him on the arm, unconsciously mimicking his father, and bowed. “I’ll be going.”

“Yoongi—”

Yoongi smiled vaguely and moved to leave. Seokjin was still there, his eyes fixed on where the general had left. He had an odd look on his face, like he was considering something deeply, but Yoongi didn’t care much. He didn’t trust someone pretending to be a witch and he certainly didn’t want to encourage him further. Even if he was thankful for his help in preventing a possible war, he wasn’t about to become friends with him. He would, however, stop bothering his mother about him.

If the royal palace wanted to keep a witch on retainer, Yoongi was officially washing his hands of the entire situation. He couldn’t care less.

Chapter Text

“I heard he’s as pretty as a flower,” Park Jimin sighed, a small smile playing on his lips as he imagined just what someone like that would look like.

Yoongi sighed. Why did he think he would be free of talking about the court witch? “He’s hot, yes. He’s also pretending to be a witch and living on my mother’s good graces.”

“I don’t care about that,” Jimin said honestly, flicking his hand in dismissal, his attention still focused on the flowers he was arranging. It was a pretty bouquet, plenty of soft pinks and purples, and Yoongi couldn’t help but wonder who’d ordered it.

“You really should pay just a little bit of attention to court politics,” Yoongi muttered dryly, shaking his head.

Jimin snorted. “I do. I pay quite a lot of attention actually. Do you know how many people just talk to me because I’m pretty?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “So, what are they saying?”

“They’re saying the court witch is as pretty as—”

“About literally anything else, Jimin,” Yoongi interrupted, frustration leaking into his voice.

Jimin pouted and set the bouquet aside. “You’re no fun anymore.”

“Jimin—”

“Fine, fine,” Jimin interrupted, waving his hand again before leaning over the bench and resting his chin in his palm. “My father is on a rampage. He’s pissed his plans were dismissed, especially in favour of yours on the order of a witch. He’s been talking to anyone who will listen, trying to gather support. Nothing really new, just a new topic.”

Yoongi grunted. General Park had been an influential member of one side of the council for decades so him trying to solidify his base wasn’t unusual. “Anyone interesting listening?”

“Nah. Hoseokie-hyung’s dad is doing damage control on his side. You know how much he hates my dad,” Jimin reminded him.

“Understatement,” Yoongi said with a nod.

“But…” Jimin hesitated, his eyes flicking to Yoongi and away. When Yoongi raised a brow, Jimin continued, “There has been renewed circulation of the curse rumours. One side is saying it’s a blessing and a sign to follow your ideas, the other is saying that if the witch is really right about your idea being the best, he should be able to lift the curse.”

“That literally implies there is one,” Yoongi snapped, pushing himself up.

“I’m aware,” Jimin agreed. “They’re doing it on purpose. Either the witch can’t ‘cure’ you and he should be dismissed or he can and all your previous recommendations were given while cursed. They’re trying to discredit you.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Yoongi muttered, rubbing his face.

“Such language, Your Highness,” Jimin teased, trying to lighten the mood even as Yoongi shot him a baleful look. “I’m sorry I don’t have better news.”

Yoongi sighed. “Not your fault things are like this. Who’re the flowers for, by the way?”

Jimin blinked, his gaze dropping to the flowers he’d been working on. “Oh, the new guard? The cute one with owl eyes.”

“Jungkook?”

“So casual,” Jimin whispered, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Do you know him?”

“You do too,” Yoongi said honestly, rolling his eyes. “His dad was the last head of the palace guard. Remember the kid with the massive red scarf his mom had woven for him who used to hide behind anything just a little taller than him?”

Jimin pursed his lips, thinking. It took a moment, then he saw a boy the same size as him running away and ducking behind a flowerpot. After a moment, large eyes peeked out and then an even brighter smile. “Oh, that’s him? He’s so…”

“Large and hot?” Yoongi finished for him, snorting when Jimin nodded. “Yea surprised me too. He’s still shy though.”

“Yes, I noticed,” Jimin agreed.

“So, the flowers?” Yoongi prompted.

“Oh, he was saying he loves flowers, but the smells give him a headache, so I was putting together some with a lighter scent that he’d probably be okay with,” Jimin explained.

“I see,” Yoongi said slowly.

“Oh shush,” Jimin snapped, tossing some cut stems his way. “Don’t stand there all high and mighty like you didn’t forget to ask a man for his pass because he was too hot!”

“How did you—”

“I hear things,” Jimin interrupted, smiling triumphantly.

Yoongi groaned. He loved Jimin but his ability to know pretty much everything was absolutely terrifying. “I was drunk.”

“Uh-huh, so, back to the original topic of conversation you so expertly dodged from, is he, or is he not, as pretty as a flower?” Jimin prompted.

Shooting him another baleful look, Yoongi pouted. “Yes, okay? He’s so pretty I stopped fucking walking and stared at him for a solid minute. Leave me alone.”

Jimin snorted and clapped his hands, his body swaying dangerously to the right as he began to laugh. “Oh, I have to see this man!”

“So go see him. Just leave me out of it,” Yoongi instructed, brushing his robes off in a not-so-subtle sign he was going to leave. After a moment, he straightened, ignoring the still laughing eyes pointed at him. “I won’t have anything to do with the court witch.”

♔♔♔

“I hear you made quite the scene when you met with my husband.”

Seokjin sipped his tea slowly, his eyes flicking up to the mirth-filled ones of the queen, who sat across from him. He felt his lips kick up, but he kept his voice neutral. “I… expressed some opinions clearly and firmly.”

The queen hummed as she took a long drink of her own tea, finishing off the cup. She set it down, watching idly as Seokjin moved to fill it for her automatically. “He was quite thrown.”

“Do I need to find a new place to sleep?” Seokjin wondered.

“Perhaps if he was a more serious man,” the queen said dismissively.

“Like that general,” Seokjin observed slowly.

The queen frowned. “Yes, General Park has always been… dedicated to his craft.”

“Interesting phrasing.”

“Isn’t it?” The queen asked vaguely, telling Seokjin all he needed to know about the general. He already had a few ideas, from what he’d seen in his predictions and what he’d seen in person but hearing that the queen wasn’t a fan of his just solidified his already poor opinion.

“He didn’t make the original plans though.”

“No,” the queen agreed, “that was my Yoongi.”

Seokjin narrowed his eyes, the image of the small, blonde prince floating in his mind immediately. He’d heard a great deal about the second prince, most of it negative, but, having seen him twice, he couldn’t bring the two images together. Especially not if he was the one who’d made the plans. “He’s the second, is he not?”

“He is,” the queen confirmed, frowning slightly. “I forget that you’re not from this area sometimes. Your accent is quite good.”

Considering Seokjin had been born here, that wasn’t surprising. It was just that he’d been born here approximately three and a half generations prior to the current one. Being a witch was complicated. “Thank you.”

The queen tilted her head like she was aware Seokjin wasn’t saying something, but, after a moment, moved on. “My husband, the current king, was always the heir. He’s the oldest, of course, but he was always more skilled at statecraft than his brother. More shy though, less likely to express his opinions. Yoongi reminds me of him a great deal.”

“People don’t like a shy king,” Seokjin murmured.

“No, not particularly,” the queen agreed. “Especially not meddling men who want power. If he was shy and weak, then maybe, but he wasn’t. His brother wasn’t as quiet, nor was he as content with his place. It caused tension until, eventually, it led to war. It wasn’t long but so many people died, so many good people.”

“I’m sorry.”

The queen inclined her head. “It was a hard time. We weren’t even married yet, but I ended up staying in the palace just to be safe. I watched… it was not a good time. Regardless, once it was over, my husband made sure something like that couldn’t happen again.”

Seokjin tilted his head. “How?”

“First of all, my sons are friends. We raised them together and ensured they were close. It wasn’t easy, a lot of tradition holds that they should be raised separately and trained for their appropriate positions, but we ignored that.”

“Does make them less likely to kill each other,” Seokjin agreed.

The queen snorted at Seokjin’s tone. “Yes. Also, we divided the duties irregularly. My youngest, Yoongi, is the one who controls the people of the military. My eldest, Hyungki, controls the ruling structure.”

“How does that even work?” Seokjin wondered, blinking rapidly.

“It doesn’t, not if they don’t work together to ensure everyone is on the same page. Neither can mobilize without the express agreement and the involvement of the other. It does, however, have one unforeseen downside,” the queen admitted quietly. Seokjin raised a brow, urging the queen to continue. She tapped her finger on the top of her cup then sighed. “It means that, if we go to war, my Yoongi will be on the front lines with the troops.”

“Oh,” Seokjin murmured, surprised. It wasn’t that one of the members of the royal family going to war was particularly surprising, it did happen, it was more that Seokjin couldn’t imagine a man who’d planned so strategically for defence fighting in an actual battle.

“You understand my concern now.”

“Yes,” Seokjin confirmed. “We’ll see that we can prevent that from happening.”

“I hope so. Otherwise, I wasted my life trying to protect my sons from each other only to risk losing them to someone I’ve never met.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Can you guarantee it?” The queen asked, smiling wryly.

“No,” Seokjin admitted. He couldn’t guarantee anything, that wasn’t what he did, but he could monitor the progress and make sure nothing was straying away from the future he’d already seen. All he had to do was keep himself close to the action.

Seemed easy enough.

♔♔♔

Yoongi was aware, obviously, that rolling his eyes while the two halves of the council yelled at each other would be a bad idea. It took a lot of willpower to prevent himself from doing so anyway. Judging by his quick glance at his brother, who stood to the right on the opposite side of the king, he felt the same. 

It was all so stupid anyway. 

They were arguing, as Jimin had warned him, about the validity of using a witch’s recommendation to plan their defences. One side pointed out it was no different than consulting a fortune teller. The other returned that a fortune teller had been consulted and disagreed with the witch. The first side pointed out that the fortune teller had less access to information than the witch did. The other side returned that perhaps the witch was playing favourites by choosing the plan set forth by the royal family. The first side rebutted that the witch hadn’t known that.

It went on from there.

Yoongi had lost the thread of the plot nearly five minutes prior and he knew he should tune back in, but he couldn’t bring himself to. It wasn’t until he heard his father’s voice that he realized 1) everyone was staring at him and 2) they were talking about him now.

“Did you just insinuate that my son is cursed?” The king snapped.

He’d warned his brother of this particular rumour resurfacing and it was obvious his brother had told the king as well. Yoongi couldn’t help but blink in surprise. His father had never really said anything about the rumours before. He’d always said that commenting on them would give them legitimacy so, for as long as Yoongi had been alive, people had been whispering about him. About his hair. Except now the king was staring down a random councilman that Yoongi couldn’t remember the name of with disdain and anger on his face.

“N-no, Your Highness,” the councilman stuttered out, his eyes wide as he looked around for help. Though all his allies had been quite vocal a few minutes ago—or so Yoongi assumed, he really hadn’t been paying attention—they were silent now. “I was merely suggesting that we test the witch’s ability…”

“On my son?” The king finished when the councilman trailed off.

The councilman swallowed. “Well, it has long been known that the prince’s hair is unusual…”

“And?”

“And… perhaps it would be best for the witch to take a look at it, if we are to believe his abilities, it wouldn’t hurt for him to check. And if he is cursed…”

Ah. There it is. It’d taken a bit of a detour, but they were finally getting to the point. Yoongi was once again left in awe of Jimin’s abilities. Yoongi found himself wondering if his father would be more approving if he knew Jimin’s love of flowers was just as strong as his ability to ferret out even the smallest nugget of information. Yoongi had no doubt he’d want to use that ability for himself and he also knew exactly why Jimin kept it to himself. Or, at the very least, away from his father. 

“What do you think, Yoongi?”

Yoongi blinked and turned his head towards the king. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I stopped listening when the council began to accuse me of being a plague on our people.”

There was a murmur from the councilmen present. Both sides weren’t particularly fond of finding out one of the princes wasn’t listening. He spotted Hoseok standing just behind his father and caught his eyes. Hoseok raised a brow and sighed visibly, telling him he’d probably pissed off some people, then leaned forward to whisper to his father. After a moment, Councilman Jung began to speak, “I pity that one of our princes felt so insulted that he could do nothing but tune out the impertinence.”

Before anyone could reply or, honestly, start yelling again, the king interrupted, “The council is suggesting you be examined by the witch to ascertain the reason for your hair.”

Yoongi sighed. “Fine.”

The king scanned him for a moment then nodded. “Then it shall be done. I’ll schedule an appointment for the examination to take place.”

“We, of course, should be present,” General Park said firmly, speaking for the first time since all this had started. “So we can witness the truth firsthand.”

“As you wish,” the king agreed, though his tone was anything but pleased. “You’re dismissed.”

The council bowed and began to file out. The process was slow and followed a pre-set order, but Yoongi wasn’t paying attention. He saw Hoseok send him a sympathetic look but just flicked his fingers in dismissal. It wasn’t something new after all. He’d long since stopped being bothered by these types of things. Nearly thirty years of the same rumours tended to build up a tolerance for them.

“Yoongi, you don’t have to do this,” the king said firmly, staring at his youngest son.

“If I don’t, they’ll use it to push through General Park’s agenda. I’m not cursed and the witch doesn’t have any magic so it doesn’t matter either way,” Yoongi replied immediately. “I’ll go, watch him do his song and dance, and then the council will have no reason to oppose any more. At least for now.”

Hyungki crossed his arms, his eyes on Yoongi much as his father’s were. “How do you know he won’t say you’re cursed just because he can?”

That was a risk, obviously. If it had been anyone else, or even a few days ago, he wouldn’t be as confident, but after watching Seokjin in the planning room, he was sure that, regardless of the dubiousness of pretending to be a witch, Seokjin didn’t want war and he’d do what was necessary to ensure one didn’t break out. “He doesn’t want a war; he’ll say what needs to be said.”

The king nodded, a slight frown on his lips. “I’m sorry they’re using you as a pawn regardless.”

Yoongi shrugged, forgetting himself for a moment. “I’m used to it.”

“You should not be,” the king said simply as he pushed himself up. “I’ll have someone let you know when the time has been set.”

“Your Highness,” Yoongi acknowledged with a bow. 

Hyungki followed suit and, within a few seconds, they were alone in the throne room. Hyungki moved closer to him and touched his arm. “Are you really okay?”

“Of course.”

“You know, regardless of what happens, your hair doesn’t need to be fixed,” Hyungki said firmly.

“I know, hyung,” Yoongi agreed with a smile. “You’d never let me think otherwise.”

“You’re right about that,” Hyungki agreed.

Yoongi smiled slightly then waved his hand. “Go visit your wife. I’m sure she’d like some company.”

“She’d like your company too,” Hyungki said honestly.

“I’ll visit soon,” Yoongi promised. “Now go. It’s not often these meetings end early so enjoy it.”

Hyungki pursed his lips, clearly hesitating, then nodded. “You know where to find me if needed.”

“Yes, hyung. Go.”

After another moment, Hyungki inclined his head and practically ran for the door. Yoongi watched him go with a small smile. He’d be a great dad soon, even with all the pressure of ruling and a potential war. Anything Yoongi could do to make that go smoother, like sending him off earlier, he would. 

Glancing back at the throne, Yoongi sighed. He had so many duties, so many things he had to get done, but his mind wasn’t focused. It hadn’t been since, well, since he’d spotted a beautiful man sitting in the moonlight. Perhaps magic did exist and he’d been bespelled. Yoongi snorted, shaking his head, and left the throne room, already turning his thoughts to the tasks he knew he needed to get done. If the pretty witch lingered in the back of his mind as he had for days, no one had to know.

♔♔♔

As with most things concerning the king, setting a time and place for Seokjin to ‘evaluate’ Yoongi didn’t take long. By the next day, all the councilmen—even a few Yoongi hadn’t seen in years—were crowded into a large room. He was standing off to the side with his brother, doing his best to look unaffected by all the whispering and staring going on. He was doing poorly, at least to anyone who knew him well. There were currently four people in the room who knew him that well and each one of them was watching him with well-concealed concern.

Thankfully, after nearly twenty minutes of waiting, the king was announced and entered the room, flanked by the queen and, just behind him, two attendants escorted Seokjin. Yoongi had not been aware his mother was coming but he shouldn’t be surprised—she wasn’t one to linger by the sidelines.

They approached the throne together and took a seat while Seokjin remained at the base of the throne. His face was impassive, but Yoongi could see the irritated set of his shoulders. Or at least he assumed that’s what it was since it looked like it had while he’d been assessing the changed map. Who knows, maybe he was self-conscious?

“I know I’m quite beautiful, but staring is rude.”

Or not.

The queen smiled slightly, clearly amused, while the king cleared his throat. “As you know, we’re here so the court witch can assess whether or not Prince Yoongi is cursed, as so many are wont to believe due to his hair. Court Witch Seokjin, if you please?”

Seokjin bowed to the king and then spun around to face the crowd. He folded his hands behind his back and scanned the room. There were a variety of expressions in the crowd, none of which Seokjin was unfamiliar with, so he simply met as many eyes as he could and stared them down until they looked away. A fun power play, if ultimately useless.

Yoongi watched silently, waiting for the moment he was told to do or say something and this whole mess would begin. He barely held back a grimace at the idea of being a main player in whatever show Seokjin was about to put on to convince the audience of his powers.

But, before he could really settle into that feeling of disdain, Seokjin clapped and smiled. “I’m happy to inform you that the prince is not cursed. Have a nice day.”

There was a pause as the room fell silent and simply stared, and then the shouting started. Yoongi couldn’t make it out, but everyone was angry. Some seemed to be accusing him of pretending to be a witch and just agreeing with the royal family. Others accused him of cursing Yoongi himself, which seemed unlikely. Others still yelled that he was wasting their time. It was a lot, but all Yoongi focused on was the rush of emotions he wasn’t sure what to do with. Relief—even if he didn’t believe in curses, he’d always been a bit worried—happiness—thank gods he wasn’t cursed—anger—people had been mistreating him for years for nothing—sadness—he’d been alone for no reason—and finally, skepticism—how did Seokjin know? 

“How can you be so sure?” Yoongi wasn’t even aware he’d spoken until the room fell quiet and all eyes focused on him. He’d only said what everyone was thinking but the fact it came from him specifically seemed to shock most people.

Seokjin merely sighed and nodded like he’d been expecting that. Without a word, he raised his hand and opened his palm. A second later, a small pouch appeared where before there had been nothing. Everyone in the room startled, whispers frantically spreading as everyone tried to figure out just how that pouch had appeared out of nowhere. Yoongi wasn’t looking at the pouch though, he was watching Seokjin’s face and the slight grimace on his lips. “This pouch contains a cursed necklace. I’m not going to get into the details but basically, I can feel it. You don’t feel like that, so I know you’re not cursed.”

“If people can feel it, why does everyone think I’m cursed?” Yoongi asked blandly.

“I didn’t say people. I said I can feel it,” Seokjin corrected, frowning slightly. His free hand moved to the pouch slowly, his fingers hesitating noticeably at the opening, and then he sighed and pulled at the strings, tilting the pouch until a small set of jade beads poured out into his hand. Yoongi stared at them, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, and flicked his eyes up to Seokjin, who’d paled noticeably. Before he could ask what was wrong, Seokjin held out his hand. “Take my hand and you’ll see.”

Yoongi hesitated, his gaze moving between Seokjin’s face and hand, then he slowly moved to the center of the room where he stood and placed his hand atop Seokjin’s. At first, nothing happened. He just felt the warmth of Seokjin’s hand tighten around his—ignoring the flutter that caused in his belly—then something shifted and he felt like he’d been dunked underwater. Everything felt heavy and grimy and wrong. Startled, Yoongi snatched his hand back and held it to his chest, his eyes wide and scared. He barely even noticed the room full of people still watching them, all he could feel was that echo of wrong on his skin and he didn’t like it. “What the hell was that?”

Immediately, Seokjin shoved the necklace back in the pouch and tugged the strings tight, visibly relaxing the second it was closed. He continued to stare at it for a moment then cleared his throat. “That, Your Highness, is what a cursed object feels like. This one is particularly bad but it’s all I had on hand. Curses on humans tend to be easier to stand but they still give off that feeling of wrong. You don’t feel like that. Neither does your hair.”

Almost instinctively, Yoongi’s hand shifted to play with the ends of his hair only to find nothing. He’d chosen to wear his hair up in the proper bun given what they were doing today so there was no hair draped over his shoulders to touch. It made his hand move anxiously to his ear, fiddling with the earring dangling there. “You’re sure?”

“Very,” Seokjin confirmed with a nod. “I was surprised when I was asked to give my opinion on this matter. Any witch, even the youngest and most inexperienced, would be able to tell you aren’t cursed. I don’t know why you’re blonde but it’s certainly not a curse.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, scanning Seokjin’s face, then nodded and stepped back. “Thank you.”

Seokjin smiled briefly, a small twitch of the lips. “You’re welcome, Your Highness. Anyone else wish to try?”

Silence fell over the room. Yoongi was sure it was so quiet, he’d be able to hear a pin drop. No one moved, no one spoke, no one breathed. He supposed seeing Yoongi recoil like that had been enough for most people to believe. That and the fact they’d watched the pouch the necklace contained appear from thin air. Yoongi was still trying to reconcile with that himself. 

Just when he thought this whole mess would be over, General Park stepped forward. “Show me.”

Seokjin nodded and opened the pouch again. Standing as close as he was, Yoongi saw the strain taking the necklace out of its pouch had on him. It made Yoongi’s skin crawl like a phantom memory, like he could still feel it, and he almost stepped back. The only thing that kept him in place was the expression on the general’s face. He thought he was making it up and was set on proving him wrong. Yoongi straightened and narrowed his eyes, waiting for him to do as he’d done and take Seokjin’s hand. 

Unlike him, the general held out his own. Seokjin frowned at him, his eyes dipping to the general’s hand, then he reached out and grabbed on. He tightened his hold and made sure the general couldn’t back away. Yoongi felt his opinion of the witch rise just a bit and pretended it wasn’t because he was a little petty. Seokjin, however, wasn’t as strong as the general so after one hasty tug, the general forcefully tore his hand away and stepped back. He’d paled harshly, the pallor of his usually tanned skin almost sickly. “What was that?”

“I told you, the necklace is cursed. That’s what curses feel like when they’re unprotected or unbroken,” Seokjin explained, putting the necklace away again. “This pouch seals the curse so it doesn’t affect those around it. Once I remove it, that feeling permeates the air.”

The general frowned, his eyes flicking to Yoongi then away. He’d clearly been hoping for something less clear, more easily objected to, but even he couldn’t argue with that feeling. It took him a few more seconds to realize that but Yoongi saw the moment he did. It was like watching curtains close over someone’s eyes. He wanted to celebrate but he knew better. The general was a quick thinker and he wouldn’t back down without a fight.

He was proven right less than a minute later when Seokjin tossed the pouch into the air with a flick of his wrist and it vanished. A collective gasp spread across the room and Seokjin shrugged. “A simple trick, mostly. Takes very little training.”

The general narrowed his eyes. “But you have a lot of it. Training that is.”

“Yes,” Seokjin confirmed. “I was practicing magic while your grandfather was still struggling to grow a beard.”

Yoongi’s head snapped toward Seokjin in surprise. That’d make him at least one hundred years old, if not more. The general, if he was surprised, hid it well. “So you know the world.”

“Better than most,” Seokjin said slowly, like he was unsure where he was going with this.

“Then,” the general said, just as slowly before he turned to the king and bowed, “I request that the court witch be assigned to aid Prince Yoongi in his planning. He has already shown his skill in assessing battle plans and his skill in magic would be invaluable.”

Motherfucker.

Yoongi should have known he was planning something. He didn’t know what, but he knew it was something that would screw him over later. He glanced at Seokjin, who was still facing away from the throne. There was a small smile on his lips, like he’d gotten what he wanted. When he caught Yoongi looking, he winked. Yoongi felt himself flush and tore his gaze away just in time to watch his father nod in agreement.

“That’s a good idea, General Park. From now on, the court witch will be assigned to help with the planning to prevent war from breaking out and to protect us if one does.”

Seokjin spun around and bowed. “As you wish, Your Highness. I’m sure the prince and I will make a great team.”

The queen raised a brow, her eyes flicking between Seokjin and Yoongi in question, but Yoongi could only frown and bow in agreement. “I’m sure we will.”

Chapter Text

Most things in life worked out for Seokjin, so, when the king announced that he’d be assigned to help the prince with battle plans, he couldn’t hold back his satisfied smile. The fact that the prince had caught him and then blushed so pretty only made it better. It was like killing two birds with one stone: he fulfilled his promise to the queen and got to tease someone. 

Perfect.

He should have expected, of course, that the prince wouldn’t be thrilled about the new plan, but he’d honestly kinda forgotten in the face of everything working out so easily. He couldn’t overlook it now though. Not as he frowned at two guards as they stood in front of the doors to his chambers, one with wide eyes so big they practically eclipsed half his face and the other with a bored stare telling him he was tired of pretty much everything. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to repeat yourself.”

The wide-eyed guard cleared his throat, shooting a look at the older guard who didn’t bother to speak again, before he repeated, “Prince Yoongi has sent us to bring you to his chambers.”

“His chambers,” Seokjin repeated, still not quite understanding.

The guard nodded. “That’s where he’s working today. The crown prince is… indisposed, so he’s working there.”

Seokjin’s frown deepened. He didn’t particularly care where they met but something about this felt odd. As far as he could tell, all previous planning had been done in the room he’d been brought to by the king. It was clearly a staging room of sorts so why would the prince be in his private chambers? Seokjin supposed he’d just have to ask. “Alright, give me a moment.”

Nodding, the guard stepped back immediately, followed by the older guard at a much slower pace. Something told Seokjin that this particular guard had more in common with General Park than he did with Seokjin, or even the prince or this younger guard for that matter. Seokjin shrugged that off, unruffled by what he deemed to be a general disdain for magicked people, and grabbed a talisman. Moving quickly, he attached it to the edge of the frame and pulled the door closed. There was a faint flash of light as the talisman activated, locking the door to anyone but him.

Satisfied that his rooms couldn’t be searched—he didn’t trust the general not to interfere—Seokjin moved to where the guards were standing and flicked his robe sleeves out of the way, linking his hands behind his back. “Lead the way.”

Without a word, the older guard started walking, apparently doing as Seokjin had asked. The younger guard startled a bit and scurried after him after a quick look at Seokjin, who followed leisurely. He had a general idea where the prince’s rooms were given that he’d stumbled upon Seokjin a few nights prior, but he hadn’t expected them to be so close. He knew the rest of the royal family was on the other side of the palace so he couldn’t help but wonder why the prince was so far away from the rest. It struck him as odd but, glancing around, there was nothing to suggest his chambers were any less worthy of his status.

Filing that question away with all the other ones he was apparently gathering, Seokjin paused as the younger guard broke away from his partner once again and knocked on the door. Seokjin didn’t hear a response, but after a moment, the guard opened the door. “Hy— Prince Yoongi, the court witch is here as requested.”

Was he going to call him hyung?

“Send him in. Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Your Highness,” The guard—Jungkook—said as he bowed, stepping back to wave Seokjin inside. “If you will.”

“Thank you, Jungkook,” Seokjin mimicked, smiling slightly as the guard smiled before catching himself. He seemed young but not in a bad way. Seokjin could understand why the prince would have a soft spot for him, if his apparent use of ‘hyung’ was anything to go by anyway. “You can call me hyung too.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened before they darted to the prince’s door and then to the other guard, who’d drifted even farther away from them. His distance made Jungkook relax and he nodded. “I’d be honoured.”

Seokjin hummed as he swept past the young guard, once again happy he’d met someone in the palace who seemed genuine. Other than the general and a few random workers, like the guard, the people of the palace all had a good aura about them and seemed happy. He liked that a lot. It made his respect for the queen rise even higher, for some reason convinced she’d had a hand in making that happen.

As the door closed behind him, Seokjin paused to let his eyes refocus. The light inside was dim, artificially so. The windows that lined several walls were covered and there were dozens of candles lit. Seokjin immediately recognized the situation—it was one he often found himself in after all. The prince had clearly been working and, heedless of the time, hadn’t bothered to open or close the windows. His suspicion was further confirmed when he noticed two different teapots on the table set up beside where the prince was working. 

That and the fact that the prince looked decidedly less put together than he had the last few times he had seen him. His robes were still beautiful and immaculate, but his hair was down and a little mussed, like he’d been fiddling with it, and, even in the dim light, Seokjin could tell he was paler than before. “Your Highness.”

Yoongi blinked and looked up as if he’d forgotten that Jungkook had announced him. “Right. Come here.”

Seokjin raised a brow but did as he was told, moving to where the prince was seated. Now that he was closer, he could see that the prince was working on more maps. He recognized the area he’d previously approved of but there were others now, all focused on different parts of the border. Like the original map, they had marks on them, indicating where camps were to be established. All of which were once again defensive. Seokjin sighed quietly, pleased. From what he’d seen, the more defensive their plans were, the longer peace lasted.

“Why did you summon me?” Seokjin asked finally, taking a seat.

“I’m supposed to work with you, right? So, this is us working together,” Yoongi answered briskly, pushing one of the maps his way. “Do your thing. Whatever it is you do.”

“May I ask why we’re in your personal chambers?” Seokjin mused even as he took the map and scanned it more closely.

“The crown prince is… he has other things to deal with today and I didn’t see the point of taking up a room for just me when I can work just as well here,” Yoongi explained, his eyes still fixed on the document he was reading.

Seokjin narrowed his eyes, catching the hesitation in Yoongi’s voice when he explained where his brother was. He’d let it go when Jungkook had paused, thinking it was just his own awkwardness, but he couldn’t overlook two people doing the same thing. “Where is the crown prince?”

“Busy.”

“Your Highness,” Seokjin said firmly, setting down the map. “I cannot work with limited information. I thought I made that clear.”

“It doesn’t have to do with the war,” Yoongi assured him.

“You can’t know that. No one can. Even one person having a bad day can cause them to make a decision that will send a ripple through my prediction,” Seokjin practically snapped.

Yoongi’s fingers tightened on the document in his hand and then he set it down and met Seokjin’s eyes. “He’s with his wife. She had some sort of… false labour? I’m not entirely sure how it works but the doctor assures us she’s fine, just needs rest. My brother wished to be with her. Happy?”

“Not in the slightest,” Seokjin quipped, standing up. “Take me to them.”

“I— what?” Yoongi stuttered, scrambling up after Seokjin as he moved to leave the room before Yoongi could answer. “Where are you going?”

“To the crown prince’s rooms,” Seokjin explained. “Either take me there or I’ll go myself.”

“Why? They’re tired and—”

“I’ll take myself then,” Seokjin decided, leaving the room abruptly. He could hear the prince dart after him, but he was already focused on what he needed to do next. He’d been aware of the pregnancy, of course. He’d heard people whisper about it and the queen was quite excited for her first grandchild. He’d seen the child in his predictions too. Nothing too clear but he’d seen a smiling child toddling around, walking on unsteady legs. It was too far in the future to be directly related to the upcoming war, but these things were never quite as linear as people liked to think, so he was assuming the pregnancy played some sort of role. He figured, given all that was going on, it wouldn’t hurt to check.

He’d made it to the crown prince’s courtyard when he was stopped, four guards stepping into his path with matching frowns. One bore the mark of a captain and Seokjin settled his eyes on him, knowing he’d be the one to let him pass if anyone was going to. Before he could open his mouth, the captain was stepping back and all four were bowing. Just behind his shoulder, Yoongi appeared, an impassive mask on his face. “We’re here to see my brother and sister-in-law.”

“Your Highness.”

Yoongi shot him a look. If he didn’t still look like he’d been up for three straight nights without getting ready, it might have been intimidating. “Let me go in first.”

“Of course,” Seokjin relented.

Still watching him warily, Yoongi walked quickly to the large doors of the crown prince’s chambers. Two attendants opened them and allowed him inside. Before they were even closed, Yoongi was leaning back out, waving Seokjin in. “Come.”

Seokjin hurried forward and stepped inside. Like Yoongi’s rooms, there was a large open space with tables for meeting and sitting. They were more formal than Yoongi’s, more organized, but otherwise the same. Unlike Yoongi, however, the crown prince looked put together and well-rested. The only thing marring his features was the frown on his lips as he looked at Yoongi. “Have you been sleeping?”

“Yes, hyung,” Yoongi said, rolling his eyes before he caught himself and straightened. “The court witch wanted to see you and noona.”

The crown prince narrowed his eyes, clearly unimpressed with the way Yoongi switched the topics, then sighed and looked at Seokjin. “Yes?”

“I wish to see your wife, if that’s okay. I heard she had a bit of a scare this morning and I want to check that everything is alright.”

“The doctors assure me she is fine.”

Seokjin smiled slightly. “No offence, but I have a bit more experience than they do.”

Hesitating a moment longer, the crown prince nodded and spun away, heading toward a door. He raised his hand to them then disappeared inside, clearly going to check with his wife. Yoongi watched them go then turned on Seokjin, his face harsh. “Do not scare her, okay? I don’t know why you want to be here, but she needs rest.”

“I know,” Seokjin assured, unable to suppress the fondness he felt building. This family just seemed so… healthy. He kept expecting something to prove they didn’t care for each other the way they seemed to, but at every turn, they showed him the opposite. He supposed if he was going to prop up any monarchy, it was best if he actually liked the one he was doing it for. “I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Yoongi scanned his face closely, his eyes narrowed, then he nodded and turned away. A few minutes later, the crown prince returned and waved them in, much as Yoongi had done earlier. Yoongi went first, his robes swishing around his legs as he slipped into the room and moved to the princess’ side. She smiled when she saw him, even if her eyes were pinched with the echoes of pain. “Yoongichi.”

“Noona,” Yoongi returned, taking her hand and squeezing gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible,” Taeso responded honestly with a small sigh. “But your brother has been at my beck and call all day, so I’m enjoying that.”

“You should make him do more,” Yoongi said conspiratorially. “He’ll have to serve a nation soon enough. Best to get the practice in now.”

Taeso laughed, her free hand moving to her belly and rubbing gently. She looked tired, everyone could see it. Seokjin hadn’t known her before her pregnancy, but it looked like she’d lost weight if her robes were anything to go by. She still glowed though, happy and content even at this moment. “How about I order you around instead?”

“Less ideal, but I’ll allow it,” Yoongi teased.

“I order you to sleep,” Taeso said softly, her hand leaving Yoongi’s grasp to touch his cheek. “The war planning will still be there when you wake up.”

“That’s what I said,” the crown prince cut in, rolling his eyes, “but he won’t listen. Stubborn.”

“A family trait,” Taeso mused, her eyes finally moving to the stranger in the room. “I apologize for not greeting you properly.”

“It’s not a problem, Your Highness,” Seokjin said smoothly, bowing now that he had her attention. “I know I’m barging into your private rooms.”

“Hyungki tells me you want to check on the baby?” Taeso asked, shifting slightly so she was sitting up more. Yoongi moved to help her, his hands hovering to make sure she was okay. Taeso patted his hand in thanks.

“I wanted to check on you,” Seokjin corrected, hiding his frown at the phrasing. His immediate suspicion was that the doctors had prioritized the baby—the potential heir—and not the mother.

Taeso raised a brow, catching what he didn’t say, and nodded. “Then what do you need?”

“Just your hand,” Seokjin said easily, smiling as he did so. 

“Move, Yoongichi,” Taeso ordered, gently shoving Yoongi away and waving Seokjin forward. Yoongi pouted but did as he was asked and stood next to his brother, both of their eyes never leaving Taeso as Seokjin took a seat next to her and placed his fingers on her wrist. Seokjin flicked a look over his shoulder, smiling reassuringly, but it didn’t change the matching expressions of barely concealed concern on their faces. It was only really then that Seokjin realized how alike they looked. The blonde hair had a way of masking the similarities, but it was so clear now: same eyes, same nose, same little frown.

“Your hands are warm,” Taeso murmured, drawing Seokjin’s attention back to her.

Seokjin smiled but didn’t reply. He let his eyes fall closed and reached out, pushing his energy through Taeso. Usually, he’d do a spell or something more elaborate to check for medical issues, but he didn’t want to make the princess move so he focused on the feeling of his own magic and used it to prod Taeso’s vitals. She was weak, as he’d suspected when he’d first seen her, but otherwise, she was fine. As was the baby.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. “You need to eat and rest more, but otherwise you’re fine.”

“And the baby?” Taeso asked.

“Also fine. Would you like to know if it’s a boy or girl?” Seokjin wondered, smiling slightly at the shock on Taeso’s face as her eyes snapped to her husband.

There was an almost frantic swish of robes and then the crown prince was beside him, his hand grasping his wife’s as he looked at her silently. Seokjin watched closely, sensing they were having an entire conversation he wasn’t privy to, and then Taeso nodded. “Tell us.”

“It’s a girl,” Seokjin answered.

“A girl,” the crown prince breathed out, like he hadn’t quite processed what Seokjin had said, and then his face broke into a smile. His gums flashed as he laughed, looking at his wife. “A little girl.”

Taeso returned his smile, her eyes crinkling. “And she’s healthy? She’ll be okay?”

Seokjin nodded, hesitating. “I… predictions are hard but…”

“What?” The crown prince asked hastily, worry overshadowing his previous happiness.

“Nothing bad!” Seokjin assured him. “When I was doing the predictions for the war, I saw a baby girl taking her first steps toward a man in black and gold. I assumed it was your child, but I didn’t know for sure until now.”

The crown prince nodded then looked back at his wife, his other hand coming up so he was cupping her hands between both of his own. Seokjin felt a touch on his shoulder and looked back, seeing Yoongi’s soft expression. He wasn’t looking at him at first, but then, after a moment, he met his eyes and jerked his head back toward the door. Understanding what Yoongi meant, Seokjin nodded and stood up. The couple on the bed barely noticed them leave, neither even looking their way as they slipped out into the outer room.

Yoongi didn’t speak as they left. Seokjin could sense a somewhat unsettled aura around him so he didn’t ask. Instead, he just waited for Yoongi to work out whatever it was he wanted to say. It wasn’t until they were back in his courtyard that he paused and looked back at Seokjin. His face was impassive again, but his eyes burned in a way that Seokjin couldn’t quite read. They weren’t angry per se but there was anger in them, mixed with a dozen other shifting emotions.

“I don’t believe in magic,” Yoongi said simply, his eyes narrowing a fraction before relaxing. “I didn’t believe in magic.” Seokjin’s eyes flicked to Yoongi’s hair despite himself. “I’m aware that seems stupid, given my hair, but I don’t. Didn’t. I’m… willing to consider the possibility that there may be things I don’t understand.”

“Okay…” Seokjin said slowly, unsure where, exactly, Yoongi was going with this.

“However,” Yoongi continued as if Seokjin hadn’t spoken, “if I find out you’ve done or said something that harms the people I care about, I will personally dismember you and display your scattered parts across this country as a warning to others. Do you understand?”

Seokjin blinked, shock flashing through his system. Admittedly, he hadn’t had very many interactions with the prince, but he’d been fairly certain of his assessment of his character. His own mother’s worry had simply confirmed what he’d already assumed to be true: Yoongi was soft. Passive even. Looking at him now, he realized it wasn’t passivity but consideration. He didn’t fight or threaten or posture because there was nothing he wanted. No threat to face. Not until now. Seokjin met his eyes, finally understanding the emotions he’d had trouble with before. He was right about the anger, but the other emotions were just as strong: love, worry, determination. Seokjin respected that.

“I can’t make many promises in my life so I don’t,” Seokjin said honestly, not allowing his eyes or voice to waver, “but I can and will promise you that I have no intention of lying or causing harm to come to you or your family.”

Yoongi’s eyes flicked between his rapidly, as if he was reading him like the most intricate scroll, then he nodded and stepped away. “Then we have troop deployments to plan.”

“I guess we do,” Seokjin agreed softly, unable to move even as Yoongi turned and continued down the path to his rooms. He was realizing, based on all the things he’d witnessed so far today, that he didn’t understand or know a great deal about the second prince and he was suddenly very interested in finding out more. Thankfully, Seokjin wasn’t in the business of denying himself things he wanted.

♔♔♔

No one would say that Choi Sooyoung was an unobservant woman. She was known for her quick wit, sharp eyes, and biting tongue. Long ago, when she’d been young and being pursued by many aristocratic men, her matchmaker and father had seen it as a burden. Who wanted a loud and opinionated wife? Much to their surprise, and honestly her own, the future king did. Sooyoung wasn’t even sure where he’d first seen her but whenever he talked about it, he always smiled slightly, saying she was making herself known. Even now, she wasn’t confident that was a compliment, but it had made the arrangement easier and with the war and all the tension that followed, knowing her opinions and views were being heard had been very important to her.

So no, she wasn’t unobservant and she didn’t often miss things. And yet, as she sat beside her husband, watching her youngest son react to the new court witch, Sooyoung had realized she had missed something very important. She’d wanted to investigate sooner, ask around, but once Taeso had almost gone into labour, she’d held off, giving everyone time to relax again before she started asking questions.

It, however, had been a few days and Hyungki was back to his normal routine so she figured adding a midday tea with the queen to his schedule wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. 

“Mother, I don’t often get invited to tea. Is it a special occasion?” Hyungki asked, smiling softly at his mother as a servant poured tea for them both before stepping back.

Sooyoung shook her head and returned his smile. “A mother needs a reason?”

“Normally no,” Hyungki admitted, “but you made it official, so I’m thinking there’s a reason.”

He’d always been so smart. “There is. If we could be left alone?”

Hyungki raised a brow in question but nodded his assent anyway, watching the servants and attendants filter out of the room and close the doors. “What was so important?”

“Not important,” the queen said softly, “well, not unimportant.”

“Vague.”

Sooyoung smiled briefly. “It’s more that I don’t wish for anyone to overhear information that is not my own to share.”

“I see,” Hyungki said slowly.

The queen tilted her head. “You… talk to Yoongi quite a bit, yes?”

Hyungki paused, meeting his mother’s searching eyes. He didn’t see Yoongi in an unofficial capacity as often as he’d like, he simply had too many duties, as did Yoongi, but they met every few days or so at least. More, if he could manage it. They’d always been close regardless. Their father had battled long and hard against his brother for the crown and he refused to have his sons be the same. But that wasn’t what his mother meant. “We do.”

“Does he have any…” Sooyoung trailed off, one of her fingers moving in a circular motion as she looked at Hyungki searchingly, “friends?”

“Friends?” Hongki repeated slowly. “Yes, I suppose? I know he spends some time with the children he grew up around. The sons of the guards and advisors. He’s fairly close to one of the councilman’s sons. Jung Hoseok, I believe. And General Park’s son, Jimin, as well.”

“The sons…” the queen repeated meaningfully.

It was only at this point that Hyungki figured out what his mother was getting at. His face shuttered but he kept his tone mild. “Well, it wouldn’t be appropriate if he was off with the daughters, now would it?”

Sooyoung sighed and shook her head, a small smile playing at the edge of her lips. “You protect each other. I’m so very happy about that. You do not, however, have to protect him from me, my dear. I’ve recently become aware of Yoongi’s… preferences.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hyungki continued to lie, his mind travelling back to a much younger, much more scared Yoongi, unbidden. He’d never forget the look on Yoongi’s face when Hyungki had caught him kissing one of the young male servants. He’d seemed so sure Hyungki would turn him in or worse. Hyungki would never. Instead, he just taught him to be more discrete. He supposed that was why their mother—or father—had never noticed.

“I know you do,” the queen said, smiling still, “but I won’t make you say it. I’m sure you wish for Yoongi’s permission or approval before you do. I don’t care about his preferences anyway. That’s not why I asked.”

“Then why?” Hyungki wondered.

“You’ve seen him, obviously. The new court witch?” The queen asked with a pleased hum as she picked up her teacup, watching him over the rim.

Hyungki blinked. “Yes, of course. You were at the last meeting.”

“He’s quite… pretty,” Sooyoung settled on after a moment. “Yoongi blushed rather profusely when he winked at him”

Mouth moving but unsure what to say, Hyungki simply stared at his mother. He’d noticed Yoongi watching him previously, of course, and Yoongi had mentioned he’d gotten distracted by a beautiful man that Hyungki now knew was the court witch, so he was aware that Yoongi was interested in him at least. But how was his mother making this connection? “Yoongi blushed?”

The queen hummed. “Right down to his feet.”

“Oh,” Hyungki whispered, his eyes darting around. He couldn’t remember the last time Yoongi had shown any real interest in anyone. Sure, when he was younger, he’d fooled around, but as far as Hyungki knew, Yoongi had been alone for a long time. Or so discreet that Hyungki didn’t know. But given how close they were, that seemed unlikely. Yoongi would have told him. Was he interested in the court witch? That would explain why he’d let the man come to his chambers when Taeso was resting. The only person more protective of his wife than Hyungki was Yoongi. “I see.”

“I thought you might,” the queen commented with a sly smile, her eyes twinkling.

Hyungki wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to say to that, but he felt a flash of anxiety when he met his mother’s eyes. She was planning something, he could feel it, and it apparently had to do with Yoongi and the court witch. He wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that.

♔♔♔

Seokjin wasn’t an early riser on a normal day but on a morning following a late-night finalizing plans and an even later night analyzing the stars for predictions, Seokjin was tired. Which was why, when he opened the door to a small, pretty man in pink, he simply sighed. “Is everyone here pretty?”

The man blinked, his head tilting as he looked Seokjin up and down. His expression was soft and open, but Seokjin could see the calculation in his eyes as he analyzed him. “No, just the lucky ones.”

“Uh-huh,” Seokjin murmured without saying anything more. He was operating on about two hours of sleep and he couldn’t be bothered to feign politeness.

Seeming to understand that, the man bowed and smiled wide. “I’m Park Jimin.”

“Park,” Seokjin repeated blandly. “I’m assuming you’re related to the general.”

“Park is a fairly common family name,” Jimin pointed out, still smiling even if his eyes had narrowed a fraction.

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “It is but you’re wearing too much money in cloth to not be an aristocrat of some kind and considering I just pissed off the general and spent the evening with the prince, it’s not a coincidence.”

Jimin raised a brow, the pleasant expression he’d been maintaining slipping off his face entirely. “What if I told you I was here for my hyung and not my dad?”

Hyung again. Interesting. “I’d hesitate to believe you.”

“Fair enough,” Jimin allowed, “but my purpose is the same.”

“Which is?” Seokjin wondered.

“To size you up,” Jimin replied honestly, eyes calculating. “I’ve heard a lot about you but more than that, anyone who can piss off my dad like that warrants a meeting or two.”

Seokjin cocked a brow. “You don’t like him very much.”

“I do not,” Jimin agreed easily. “I do, however, like Crown Prince Hyungki and Prince Yoongi a great deal.”

“I feel threatened,” Seokjin observed casually.

“You should,” Jimin replied, his polite, gentle expression returning as he smiled at Seokjin. “It was nice to meet you. Maybe another time you can help me with my soil.”

“I—” Seokjin broke off, blinking rapidly at the shift in both topic and tone. “Your soil?”

Jimin hummed, frowning slightly. “I’m a gardener and some of my more delicate flowers have been dying too quickly. No matter what I do, they won’t last. Is that something you could fix?”

“Yes…” Seokjin agreed slowly, his tired brain still not quite understanding.

“Really? What would you need?” Jimin asked eagerly.

“The soil…” Seokjin murmured.

Jimin nodded firmly and flicked his hand. Less than a second later a younger man, a boy really, appeared holding a somewhat sizable bag in his arms. Seokjin could only assume that it was soil. “Will this be enough or would you need to see my whole garden?”

Seokjin honestly had no idea what was going on, but the small, terrifying man was smiling at him and looked so eager that he couldn’t stop himself from shaking his head. “If you mix this amount in, it should help. If not, I can go to the garden.”

“Perfect!” Jimin praised, clapping his hands before stepping back so the boy could set the bag down. The second it touched the ground, Jimin smiled again and bowed. “Thank you, Court Witch Seokjin. It was a pleasure.”

“Uh, yea…” Seokjin agreed warily. He had the distinct impression he’d just been stripped down, assessed, and found lacking. He didn’t know why—Jimin had been nothing but nice and polite—but he did.

Shaking that thought off, Seokjin grabbed the bag and hauled it inside, tossing it carelessly by the shelf he’d since set up with all his tools. After a few more hours of sleep, he’d handle that, until then, he had an appointment with his bed.

Chapter Text

“Your Highness.” 

“Your Highness.”

“Forgive me, Your Highness?”

Somewhat startled by the loud voice inside his rooms, Yoongi straightened at his table, his eyes searching for the owner of the voice. He found one of his brother’s primary attendants standing in the middle of the entryway carrying a tray. He sniffed without really thinking, taking in the scent of freshly brewed tea and dumplings of some kind. His stomach rumbled instantly, and he felt his cheeks tint.

Shit. What time is it?

“It’s just after lunch, Your Highness. The crown prince sent me when he realized you hadn’t ordered food to your rooms.”

Yoongi suddenly felt the need to curl up like he’d been chastised. His brother had so much to do, Yoongi could barely fathom the extent of his duties on a regular day, and he was monitoring his eating habits? Yoongi rubbed his face then flicked his hand, waving the attendant over. “Thank you. Please tell the crown prince I’m okay. He has many more important things to do than fuss over me.”

The attendant, who’d known both princes since they’d been swaddled in their mother’s arms, smiled. “I think he’d disagree. Call this parenting practice.”

“I am not a child,” Yoongi huffed, nearly wincing at the whiney tone in his own voice. Gods, he was tired.

“Of course not, Your Highness,” the attendant agreed, setting the tray down and slowly putting the plates and bowls on his table. Yoongi moved the documents he’d had spread out at the same time, making more room. Once the attendant was done, he stood and stepped back. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you,” Yoongi said softly, inclining his head in thanks as the attendant bowed and left him alone again.

More eagerly than he’d have thought, Yoongi dug into the food spread out in front of him. He really was hungry and he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d ordered a meal to be brought to him. He frowned as he bit into one of the dumplings he’d smelled, his eyes narrowing as he thought. He hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch, obviously, but had he eaten dinner the night before? He didn’t recall eating dinner—

Your Highness, royalty may have a special power that allows them to skip meals, but witches do not!

Right. He’d missed dinner but Seokjin had demanded he order a meal once the night had drawn dark. The kitchen had mostly been empty so they’d only gotten a light snack, but it’d been enough to stop Seokjin from complaining further. At least for a few more hours. 

Chewing slowly, Yoongi let his mind wander back to the night before. So far, working with Seokjin had been… surprisingly normal. Aside from randomly conjuring things when he needed them, Seokjin hadn’t seemed all that different from him. He worked diligently, talked to himself while he thought, and tended to lose himself when he was busy—hence the missed dinner. If he hadn’t been introduced as a witch, Yoongi would have assumed he was the son of some aristocrat or another. He had all the same intelligence and bearing that he was used to.

And good looks.

Yoongi put his chopsticks down abruptly and sighed. Seokjin, of course, hadn’t gotten any less good-looking in the time they’d spent together working on the new encampment placements. If anything, he’d only gotten more attractive. Mostly because his face was perfect and being up close just made that even more obvious. Plus, he had a stupid laugh and it made Yoongi’s heart squeeze in a spectacularly stupid way and he really, really didn’t want to think about that.

If they hadn’t been ordered to work together, he’d just have asked him to bed honestly. That’s usually how he dealt with feelings like this. Fuck it out, basically. So far, it’d worked for him. Likely because he hadn’t been around those men long enough to form any emotional attachment and those men he had, he didn’t sleep with. Even if sometimes he really wanted to.

Straightening his spine again, Yoongi heard it crack and winced. He’d been sitting bent over these papers for too long and he didn’t even know why. He couldn’t move forward until Seokjin gave him his next round of predictions which he’d promised to do as soon as possible. 

Frowning now, Yoongi glanced at his window—only then realizing he’d never opened it to let the natural sunlight in—and squinted. Seokjin did his prediction thing at night, so he should be done now. If the time he’d caught him in the courtyard really had been when he’d made his predictions. Yoongi wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure about a lot of things concerning Court Witch Seokjin. All he knew for sure was that Seokjin wanted to help maintain the peace and Yoongi believed him. He wasn’t even sure why he did. He just did. For whatever reason, he trusted Seokjin. 

He hoped that didn’t come back to bite him later.

♔♔♔

Dusting his hands off, Seokjin scanned the floor around him, double-checking the characters and lines he’d carefully drawn into the floor. It’d taken more than a few requests and then an outright demand before he’d been able to remove most of the rugs from his rooms, but now that the floor was bare, he had more space to work. He liked divination and reading the stars, but he preferred the feeling of casting spells.

Confident that his work was correct, Seokjin took a seat in the middle of the formation and crossed his legs, humming as he arranged himself mentally and spiritually. It wasn’t a huge spell or anything particularly complicated but a small voice in the back of his mind felt like messing this up would come back to bite him in some way. So, here he was, putting a spell on soil of all things just to keep some flowers alive. If someone had told him a month ago that he’d be doing such simple spell work for the inhabitants of the royal palace, he’d have keeled over laughing so hard. And yet here he was.

Seokjin refocused his attention on the soil positioned across from him and finally began, channelling some magic through the lines he’d drawn towards the soil. He felt the magic leave him like a physical thing, like his spiritual power was literally bleeding into the lines and characters in an effort to reach his point of focus.

Perhaps that was exactly what was happening. He wasn’t actually sure of the details and his teacher had been more on the ‘feel how this works’ side of magic rather than the ‘understand how this works’ side. Regardless, Seokjin knew it would work just as it had with the princess prior, so his eyes cracked open, watching the lines light up a shining pale pink as they activated then abruptly going dark as the spell was completed. Seokjin sighed softly, rolling his shoulders as he relaxed his posture, his attention still on the bag of soil.

“I have so many questions.”

Startled, Seokjin leapt to his feet, spinning around with wide eyes. He met the somewhat confused gaze of Yoongi and blinked several times. “Do you knock?”

Yoongi raised a brow. “First of all, I’m the prince. I can go wherever I please. Secondly, I did knock. The door opened by itself. Finally, are you ever going to even try to behave appropriately towards royalty?”

Seokjin frowned at the door, his eyes falling on the talisman he’d set up to keep it closed against all intruders while he was working. It was still activated so Yoongi shouldn’t have been able to come in. “You said it opened?”

Sighing, Yoongi nodded. “Yes. I knocked and the door opened. I assumed you had done it.”

“No,” Seokjin muttered, stepping out of the formation on the ground and moving toward Yoongi quickly. He grabbed his hand and lifted it. “This hand?”

“I am right-handed, so usually…” Yoongi agreed, unsure why Seokjin was suddenly holding his arm in the air.

“Go back outside and knock again,” Seokjin ordered, practically shoving Yoongi out the door. He stumbled backward, blinking rapidly as the door slammed in front of him, a faint pink glow emanating under the bottom. It reminded him of the glow he’d seen around Seokjin while he was on the floor doing something so he frowned at it. After a moment, he did as Seokjin had asked and knocked. After the second rap of his knuckles, the door creaked open again, just as it had done before. Seokjin appeared in the crack, his frown even deeper than before. “What did you do?”

“You told me to knock!” Yoongi snapped petulantly, forgetting himself for a moment. He’d only come to ask about the predictions he’d assumed were done by now, not to be accosted like this!

“That’s not what I mean,” Seokjin said, his attention already shifting as he grabbed the front of Yoongi’s robes and yanked him inside. Yoongi let out an undignified yelp, but Seokjin ignored him. Instead, once Yoongi was inside, he scanned the courtyard and yelled. “Hey, you!”

Several people looked at him in question, but no one moved. Seokjin pointed to a young-looking guard who he belatedly realized was Jungkook. “Jungkook! Come here.”

Jungkook simply stared at him, large eyes wide and a little frightened. “S-sir?”

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi stepped closer to the door and looked for the person Seokjin was accosting. Seeing the familiar face, Yoongi smiled. “It’s okay, Jungkook. Just come here.”

Jungkook nodded hastily and came to the door. His eyes bounced between Seokjin and Yoongi in question, but he didn’t say anything further. Seokjin raised a brow, once again shocked by the clear familiarity between the two but, like Jungkook, didn’t ask. Instead, he ordered, “I’m going to close the door. Knock on it. If it doesn’t open, try and force it.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows. “Your Highness?”

“Do as he says,” Yoongi confirmed.

“I will,” Jungkook promised with a small bow, stepping back so the door could be closed.

Seokjin practically slammed the door shut and slapped another talisman on the bottom as he’d done before. The whole door flashed pink and then settled. Seokjin crossed his arms and waited, hearing the knock of Jungkook and then the telltale sounds of someone trying to force the door open. Nothing happened, as it should have with Yoongi.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Yoongi asked.

“Later,” Seokjin said, still watching the door. “He’s cute. His name is Jungkook?”

“Yes,” Yoongi answered, frowning slightly as he looked at Seokjin. He was aware they’d met before so he didn’t understand why Seokjin was asking. “Jeon Jungkook. His family have been guards for mine for… many years.”

Seokjin nodded. “So, you grew up with him?”

“More or less. I don’t exactly get to spend a lot of time with normal people,” Yoongi admitted.

“You spent enough time with him to use his first name and for him to trust you,” Seokjin observed. Yoongi cleared his throat, his eyes darting away. Seokjin tilted his head in question, staring at the slight blush on Yoongi’s cheeks, then snorted. “Oh. Interesting. He seems quite young, Your Highness.”

“He’s 24!” Yoongi snapped then recoiled. “I mean…”

“Yea, no luck trying to pretend that didn’t just happen,” Seokjin snorted again, then, taking pity on both Yoongi and Jungkook, knelt down to deactivate the talisman and open the door. He found Jungkook on the other side looking very concerned but before he could say anything, the young guard was rushing in, his face frantic.

“Your Highness, are you all right!?” 

Yoongi blinked in surprise, then, realizing that it wouldn’t look good if he was trapped in a room, smiled slightly and inclined his head. “I’m fine, Jungkook. You did well. The court witch was simply demonstrating a new tool he wishes to use in the palace for our protection.”

Jungkook frowned a moment, then nodded. “It is effective. I couldn’t get in.”

“I saw. Thank you for your help,” Yoongi said sincerely.

Taking one more minute to make sure Yoongi was really okay, Jungkook nodded and bowed, shifting toward Seokjin to do the same. “I’ll return to my post.”

“Thanks for your participation!” Seokjin said brightly, once again slamming the door shut. He spun on his heel and winked at Yoongi. “You two are quite close indeed.”

“Will you stop?” Yoongi hissed, looking around anxiously.

Seokjin waved his concern away. “I use spells and talismans to make sure my rooms cannot be spied on. Your secret is safe with me.’

“I don’t know what you mean,” Yoongi said blandly.

“Right.” Seokjin snorted. “How long has that not been going on?”

Yoongi shifted, his eyes bouncing around the room. “It’s not.”

“Your Highness—”

“No, I mean— it’s really not,” Yoongi interrupted awkwardly. “It’s… complicated when people with positions of power around the family get involved with me so I don’t… do that with them.”

Seokjin considered that for a moment, not entirely sure what it meant. “How?”

Yoongi smiled briefly, the expression more pained than happy. “People like to think they have control over others, especially royalty. They like it even more if they can do it secretly.”

“That boy doesn’t seem the type,” Seokjin said honestly.

“No, he’s not,” Yoongi agreed, shaking his head. “His family isn’t either actually. But it’s easier for me if I don’t make exceptions.”

Seokjin nodded slowly. He knew, of course, that court relationships could be complicated but he hadn’t really given thought to the impact one held entirely in secret could have. He’d had suspicions about Yoongi, mostly based on the way he watched him when he thought no one was looking, but Yoongi’s reply all but confirmed them. Still, he found himself asking, “So, if Jungkook, or someone like him, wasn’t a part of the royal court…”

Yoongi met his eyes briefly, clearly assessing him. “Is there a question coming?”

“Would you? Have a relationship with him?” Seokjin asked bluntly.

“Someone like him perhaps,” Yoongi answered after a moment’s hesitation. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was being honest. He could have lied as he’d been doing his entire life, but he didn’t. Something about the way Seokjin was watching him made the truth slip out.

“Me too,” Seokjin replied with a small smile, which widened when Yoongi’s eyes snapped to his in surprise. “What?”

“Most people aren’t so… forthcoming.”

Seokjin shrugged. “I’m old, Your Highness. I see no need to hide who I am or what I want. Who I want.”

“A luxury,” Yoongi murmured.

Inclining his head in acknowledgement, Seokjin added, “Plus, I asked and you answered. It only seemed fair that I do the same, even if you didn’t ask.”

Yoongi blinked, his expression morphing to one of confusion. “Why are you here?”

“This is my room,” Seokjin reminded him.

“Here as in at the palace. Why let my mother drag you here? Why involve yourself in court politics you clearly have no interest in? Why follow rules and customs you don’t care about? Why help a royal family you don’t respect? Why bother?” Yoongi rambled out, letting the questions he hadn’t even realized had been bothering him until that moment tumble out.

Seokjin tilted his head as he led Yoongi towards a table that he kept set up beside his tool shelf. Yoongi had asked a lot of questions very quickly and he didn’t really know where to start or even if he was going to answer all of them, but he’d give it a try. “I don’t know if respect is the right word.”

“What would the right word be then?” Yoongi wondered, watching Seokjin’s face carefully as he took the seat Seokjin waved him toward.

“I… acknowledge royalty, I suppose,” Seokjin settled on after a moment. “It’s hard not to when they run the country you live in.”

Yoongi frowned slightly. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means what I said. I acknowledge their power and their desire to rule but it doesn’t affect me. Or, rather, it didn’t,” Seokjin amended with a small twist of his lips. “Your mother is quite persuasive.”

Yoongi’s lips kicked up into a smile before he could stop them. “That is a polite way of putting it, yes.”

“She’s lovely; I like her a great deal,” Seokjin said firmly. “It is often the case where royalty, especially those in a precarious position such as your mother’s, would be more demure and try not to rock the boat. I get the distinct impression your mother would just upend the boat and demand another be built.”

This time, Yoongi was aware he was smiling and he made no attempt to hide it. “She most certainly would. Though I wouldn’t call my mother’s position precarious. She birthed two heirs.”

Seokjin hummed, his eyes travelling around the room idly like he was thinking. “I usually think it’s safer to assume any position gained by marrying in is precarious.”

Though Yoongi didn’t like that, he nodded. If his father wished it, his mother could be removed from the palace. He’d never do that, of this Yoongi was certain, but he could. “I suppose you’re right.”

“A position that I’ve come to realize you share,” Seokjin said after a moment, his eyes settling on Yoongi. “I’ve heard a great deal about you since I’ve arrived and, I must say, very little of it was flattering.”

“Oh?” Yoongi murmured, stopping himself from rolling his eyes through sheer force of will.

“Nothing was said about you, of course,” Seokjin added on, still watching Yoongi, “but everyone has an opinion or ten about your hair. As I’m sure you’re aware.”

“As if the council trying to get you to lift ‘the curse’ wasn’t obvious enough,” Yoongi pointed out, this time losing the battle and rolling his eyes.

Seokjin smiled slightly. “Well, yes. But I heard this before that happened. I already knew you weren’t cursed, of course. Still, it was interesting to hear what people were saying and try to make that match what I saw myself.”

Yoongi met his gaze steadily. He was aware Seokjin was sidestepping almost all of his initial questions, but he couldn’t stop his curiosity from being peaked. “And what do you see?”

“I see a prince most people mistake for passive and soft. Someone who performs acts of kindness and love gently and quietly. Someone easily overlooked if you’re looking for bigger, louder personalities but also someone who inspires steadfastness and an almost terrifying degree of loyalty in those he’s close to.” Yoongi raised a brow, but Seokjin continued, “I’ve seen you interact with several men around your age by now, all of which falter at the use of your title. You don’t make them use it, do you?”

“No,” Yoongi said honestly. “I don’t have— can’t have a great many friends, so those I’ve grown up with, those who’ve known me since before even I knew I had a title, don’t have to use it.”

“I like that,” Seokjin admitted with a small smile. “I like this palace. It has a good aura. People here, for the most part, are happy. You don’t know how rare that is.”

Yoongi tilted his head and redirected the conversation. “So, is that why you’re helping?”

“Part of the reason,” Seokjin agreed. “The other part is that I don’t want war. I’m not sure what’s going on right now, why suddenly there are camps along your border, but if I can prevent bloodshed, I will. Perhaps it was fate that your mother found me just as this was happening.”

“Perhaps,” Yoongi murmured, his eyes fixed on Seokjin. He didn’t believe in fate, but he was finding that most of the things he didn’t believe in were being challenged as of late, so who was to say fate wasn’t one of them. “Or perhaps we are just lucky.”

“That’s always a distinct possibility,” Seokjin agreed. “Plus, anyone who gets to look at my face regularly is undoubtedly lucky.”

Yoongi snorted despite himself. “Of course.”

“Speaking of luck,” Seokjin said, crossing his arms on the table and leaning forward. “What do you know of Park Jimin?”

“Jimin?” Yoongi repeated, unsure where this sudden change of topic had come from. “He’s the royal gardener. Oldest son of General Park. They don’t get along due to his career choice. General Park thinks he’s soft.”

“He’s terrifying,” Seokjin told him, watching Yoongi’s reaction. When Yoongi kept his face blank, Seokjin leaned back with a small nod. “I’m assuming his father doesn’t know?”

“Know what?” Yoongi asked.

Seokjin rolled his eyes and waved his hand, ignoring the way Yoongi jumped when a teapot and two cups appeared on the table in between them. He lifted the pot and poured Yoongi a cup, his eyes flicking up to him as he pushed it over. “I’m pretty sure he threatened me. There’s no need to pretend.”

“If he had threatened you,” Yoongi said as he took the offered cup, “you’d know.”

“So, his father doesn’t know,” Seokjin repeated.

“No,” Yoongi finally confirmed, sipping his tea. “I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

“Secrets are kinda my business,” Seokjin assured him easily. “Plus, I only asked to see if he could be trusted. His father…”

Yoongi hummed, his eyes turning clouded as if he was seeing something far away. After a moment, he set down his cup. “I want to ask you something.”

“I may not answer.”

“Regardless,” Yoongi said slowly, “I’ll ask.”

“Then do.”

Yoongi kept his gaze fixed on a spot above Seokjin’s shoulder as he spoke, “General Park does something in the future, doesn’t he?”

Seokjin set down his own cup. “Why do you ask that?”

“I’ve seen the way you watch him. You don’t trust him. Very few people in my family do but they have the benefit of having known him for years. You do not.”

“If I said I’ve known people like him, would that be enough of an answer?” Seokjin wondered. He didn’t want to say more, even telling Hyungki the sex of his future child was too much, but he had a feeling Yoongi would push.

He was right.

“No.”

Or almost. Yoongi didn’t ask anything more, didn’t demand or order or beg as so many before him had. He merely shifted his eyes to meet Seokjin’s and held, waiting for more. Seokjin still wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but he found himself answering regardless. “He has some choices to make that he hasn’t yet. Some would fall under what you’ve deemed ‘something,’ others would not. Regardless, I will watch him. I’d ask that you do not.”

Yoongi continued to stare at him, his face impassive and still, then he nodded. “Okay.”

Seokjin couldn’t stop his lips from quirking up. “Really? That’s quite a bit of trust from Mr. Magic Isn’t Real.”

“I am drinking tea you literally conjured,” Yoongi said blandly, his voice dry and tired.

“True enough,” Seokjin relented with a laugh. He felt Yoongi’s eyebrows raise and his eyes on him, but Seokjin merely waved his hand, still laughing. “I’ve decided I like you, Your Highness. I’m going to call you Yoongichi.”

Yoongi nearly choked but managed to swallow down his immediate reaction to Seokjin using the nickname no one but his sister-in-law dared to utter. Instead, he sighed, “Oh, by the gods, thank goodness. Whatever would I have been able to do if the court witch disliked me?”

“Rude.” Seokjin pouted. When Yoongi merely continued to stare at him, he gave up and shrugged. “You’ll be happy I like you one day! Just you wait.”

“I’m sure,” Yoongi murmured, finally looking away. He’d come here for several reasons, all of which were official and needed doing, but he found himself relaxing slightly, taking his sister-in-law’s advice, and listening to Seokjin ramble on about something he was doing for one of the maids.

It was… nice.

♔♔♔

But nice couldn’t distract him for long. Yoongi’s perfectionist nature—and his desire to do as much as possible to ease his brother’s burden—came clawing back and before long, he was setting his seemingly never empty teacup on the table with a definitive clack.

“Ah, you’ve finally grown too antsy with sitting still, hmmm?” Seokjin mused, resting his head in his palm as he watched Yoongi stand up. The motion was fluid despite the sheer number of layers he wore wrapped around his body, and there was something satisfying about the way his sleeves snapped when he straightened himself out. “I was wondering how long you’d last.”

Yoongi raised a brow. “I can sit still. Most people remark that I’m quite inactive.”

“Then they’re stupid,” Seokjin said easily. “And I meant less the idea of sitting still and more the idea of not being productive. The princess is right, you need to learn how to relax.”

“I relax fine,” Yoongi insisted, unsure why he was arguing.

Seokjin smiled slightly. “Doing what?”

“I—” Yoongi hesitated. “Sometimes I read.”

“I bet you read stuff that can be directly related to your duties.”

Ouch. “I… have drinks with friends.”

That got Seokjin’s attention. “Actual friends or political contacts?”

Yoongi winced before he could stop himself. “In my world, there isn’t a difference.”

Frowning immediately, Seokjin stood up. “That’s unacceptable, Yoongichi.”

“Please, don—”

“We’ll be friends,” Seokjin decided with a nod, barely taking the time to think it through. How does one be friends with a prince? A good, solid question for which Seokjin did not have an answer.

Yoongi’s brows furrowed as he stared at him. “We’re literally working together to prevent a war. How would any interaction we have not be inherently political?”

Another solid point. “It’s not political if we don’t make it so!”

“Right…” Yoongi said slowly. “So, if I visit Jimin and we talk about flowers, it’s not political?”

“As long as you only talk about flowers,” Seokjin confirmed.

“Uh-huh,” Yoongi managed. He felt like he’d missed a few dozen steps. Seokjin seemed to make him feel like that constantly. He couldn’t think of a single time in their limited acquaintance where he hadn’t been scrambling after Seokjin literally or figuratively. First when he’d been in the courtyard in the moonlight, then in the planning room, then again when visiting his brother, and yet again as he’d dragged him in and out of this very room just a few hours earlier. For once in his life, he wasn’t controlling everything. It was a disconcerting thing to realize, especially when he didn’t know why. Seokjin was very good at not answering his questions and redirecting the topic.

Seokjin watched him in silence, seeing the way Yoongi’s eyes moved as if he was thinking deeply. He was a very outwardly expressive person, if you were paying enough attention, and Seokjin was. Whatever Yoongi was thinking about, he wasn’t particularly happy about it, but not upset either. Seokjin wondered if Yoongi would ask him about whatever was on his mind, as he’d done before. He wondered again if he’d answer. Either way, he’d have to wait. “Are you leaving me, Your Highness?”

Yoongi blinked. “Oh. Uh, yes. I just need your predictions so I can finalize our plans and bring them to the king.”

“I don’t have any,” Seokjin said honestly. “I do those at night.”

“And we met yesterday,” Yoongi agreed. He’d suspected as much so he was mildly validated to know he was right about when Seokjin did his predictions.

Seokjin raised a brow. “I left your room when the sun was nearly risen. At what point did you expect me to do them?”

Yoongi frowned. Had it been that late? Or early, rather. He’d slept when Seokjin left and then began working again so it was possible. Maybe he should start asking the servants to come and bring him breakfast again. He’d told them to stop several years prior but if his schedule had deteriorated so much maybe it was for the best. “Oh.”

“I was going to do them tonight. You can come and watch if you want. That way you can get them right away,” Seokjin offered easily.

“That wouldn’t… interfere?” Yoongi asked. He wanted to come to see—mostly because he was still struggling with the idea that magic was a thing and that it allowed Seokjin to predict the future—but he also didn’t want to cause issues.

Seokjin shrugged. “Not unless you’re going to like… throw shit at me or mess up my circle.”

Yoongi’s eyes drifted to the side, finding the circle he’d seen Seokjin sit in while it glowed pink when he’d first arrived. He couldn’t believe he’d just forgotten about that. He’d been so distracted by Seokjin freaking out about the door and then everything else that he’d completely forgotten that he’d wanted to ask about what he’d seen. “That’s a circle?”

“Uh-huh,” Seokjin confirmed, moving towards it and the bag of soil he’d left in its position once Yoongi had arrived. “I was doing a minor spell for Jimin. He’s having trouble with his flowers?”

“Yea,” Yoongi said, “some of the more delicate ones are dying. He’s trying to breed or splice or whatever some flowers with no scent for Jungkook,”

Seokjin blinked. “Guard Jungkook?”

Yoongi hummed, his feet moving towards the circle unbidden. He recognized a few of the characters written in the circle, just as he had the last time that he’d seen something Seokjin was working on, but he didn’t understand how it all worked together. “What are the characters for?”

“Depends. They all serve different functions. Some are amplifiers, some direct motion or energy, some tell the spell what to do and how potent to be.”

“So, it changes?” Yoongi wondered, feeling stupid the second that left his mouth. Of course it changed. Obviously.

“Yup,” Seokjin agreed, seemingly unperturbed by Yoongi’s dumb question. “See this one,” Seokjin said, gesturing to a character Yoongi had identified as meaning ‘water,’ “tells the soil to hold more moisture. I suspect that’s why they’re dying. And this one,” Seokjin continued, pointing to a different character that Yoongi hadn’t been able to read, “lets the water part of the spell know not to over saturate the roots so they don’t rot. It’s a delicate balance, as I’m sure Jimin has explained. Not a complex spell though.”

Yoongi frowned slightly, his head tilting as he examined the circle again. “Seems complex. You’d have to know how much water is good for soil and flowers just for that part alone and that’s only two characters. There are like, what, sixteen here?”

“Fifteen,” Seokjin corrected, “but it’s easy once you know the steps. A lot of my early training was working with the natural world. Most of us thrive there. Especially since we use parts of it in almost every spell we do. I know how to grow things. I had a garden at my old place actually.”

“Not anymore?” Yoongi asked, still staring at the circle in fascination. Seokjin said it was easy, but it really didn’t seem that way, not even after his explanation.

Seokjin laughed lightly. “I kinda live here now.”

Yoongi blinked. Oh. Obviously. “Right. Where do you get your supplies then?”

“I brought some with me. I’ll have to go to town and buy some when I run out. There are a few witches in the village here that might have extra they’re willing to part with.”

That surprised Yoongi. Not that other witches would share but that there were other witches. He’d mentioned them in passing when they discussed his hair, but Yoongi hadn’t really thought much about it. “There are more?”

“Of course,” Seokjin confirmed. “We’re pretty spread out usually, but big cities mean more of us and a capital city like this one means even more.”

“Huh,” Yoongi murmured, his brows furrowing as Seokjin’s comment triggered something in his memory. She had nowhere to go, so we offered a safe haven. “Have there always been witches here?”

Seokjin tilted his head at the tone in Yoongi’s voice. “Yes, why?”

Yoongi nodded his head slowly. She knew no one so she took a risk, how could we punish that? “And you know them?”

“Kinda? It’s a pretty small community so we all mostly know of or about each other. Safety in numbers and all that. Plus, it helps when you go to a new place to check with the local witches and see what the lay of the land is,” Seokjin explained.

“You’d stay with them? If you didn’t have another place?” Yoongi asked quietly. She had nowhere else to go.

“Sure. Or an inn or something but I’d check with a local witch first. Just safer.”

An odd sort of laugh tore its way out of Yoongi’s throat, his thoughts running a mile a minute and colliding with each other. He’d never thought too closely about his mother’s story of the witch blessing him because, well, he didn’t believe in magic, but now that he was pretty sure he did, that raised a million more questions. Namely, why him? Why the second-born child? Even if she’d known he was a son, why him? Why stay with them in the first place when Seokjin had just confirmed what he’d already started to believe: that witch would have had a safe place to stay elsewhere. 

“Yoon—” Seokjin caught himself before he said the teasing nickname, worry rising as he stared at Yoongi’s face, “Your Highness? Are you okay?”

“You said I’m not cursed?”

“No, you’re not,” Seokjin confirmed, not understanding Yoongi’s rapid shift in mood.

“Would you… would you be able to tell if something else is wrong with me?” Yoongi questioned.

Seokjin’s brows furrowed. “I guess it depends, why?”

“When my mother was pregnant, a witch stayed with us. She said she had nowhere else to go apparently and my mother allowed her to stay. She claims the witch blessed her pregnancy as a thank you and when I was born blonde, my mother just assumed…”

“It was because of the blessing,” Seokjin guessed when Yoongi trailed off. That… explained a lot actually. He hadn’t asked about Yoongi’s hair other than to follow up with the idea of it being a curse. He’s wondered about his parentage idly since he’d seen plenty of naturally blonde people in his time, but that hadn’t made sense either. Yoongi being touched by a witch did though. Usually, children like that would have more signs though. Hair wasn’t enough to— Seokjin’s thoughts halted. 

The door.

Yoongi had been able to open the talisman sealed door.

“Yea,” Yoongi confirmed. “It just… struck me as odd, I guess. Wouldn’t a witch go to see the other local witches first? Why come to the palace if she had another place to go?”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin replied honestly. It wasn’t unheard of for witches to bless children, but it certainly wasn’t common. Especially not among the royal family. Seokjin hadn’t been in the city three decades ago so he wasn’t sure who this witch could be, but he could ask around. Maybe visit an old friend. He’d need supplies soon anyway and, as that dear friend always said, his eyes weren’t big for nothing. If any witch knew, his friend would. He’d just have to find the time to ask him. “But I can ask around.”

Yoongi’s eyes snapped to Seokjin’s. There was surprise there, and wariness, but before Seokjin could address that, Yoongi shook his head. “Don’t waste your time. We have more important things to worry about. You’ll do the predictions tonight?”

Seokjin hesitated, licking his lips as he squinted at Yoongi. He was clearly pushing himself down the priority list which Seokjin didn’t like but it wasn't like he could tell him anything now anyway. “I will. I’ll begin setting up once the last ray of sunlight disappears.”

“I’ll come then,” Yoongi promised, inclining his head briefly before turning to leave. Seokjin wanted to stop him, assure him he’d look into the mysterious witch, but he didn’t. He kept his mouth closed as the door shut behind Yoongi and sighed, his attention shifting to the soil he’d finished bespelling but hadn’t returned. He’d deal with that, gather his supplies for the predictions, and then hunt down his old friend.

He felt like he’d suddenly been shoved into a story with too many plot lines and not enough build-up and it made his head hurt. “Alright, one thing at a time..” 

Stop a war first; investigate weird witch behaviour second. Simple enough. Probably.

Chapter Text

Pink was, undoubtedly, Seokjin’s colour. Yoongi supposed that made sense given that it was clearly the colour of his magic, but as he watched the circle Seokjin had painstakingly drawn light up around him as he gazed up at the stars, Yoongi couldn’t help but praise whatever otherworldly power had made that decision. Pink. Solid choice.

“Why pink?” Yoongi asked before he could stop himself. Seokjin had been pretty clear about Yoongi not interrupting him and what did he do? Immediately start asking questions. “Sorry. Never mind.”

Seokjin hummed quietly, a small smile playing on his lips even while his eyes never opened nor did his head move from where it was tilted up toward the sky. “I wonder how many people can say they’ve had a prince apologize to them.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut, not wanting to disturb him further. Instead, he watched Seokjin closely, trying to draw connections between what he’d seen the first night he’d stumbled upon Seokjin and now. Seokjin was seated the same, but now that Yoongi was closer, he could see the circle Seokjin had drawn around him and the maps spread out. They were all in different sections of the circle—which Yoongi assumed was deliberate—and every so often, Seokjin would grab one of the maps and move it from in front of him. He couldn’t remember Seokjin doing this the last time, but, to be fair, he’d been fairly drunk and more than a little distracted.

“I didn’t choose it.”

“Huh?” Yoongi replied without thinking.

Seokjin opened his eyes and set one of the maps down in front of him on the right. “The pink. When witches start practicing, their magic manifests in different ways and in different colours. I think it has to do with who we are as people, but my teacher didn’t know the details and it didn’t really matter to me what colour my magic was as long as it worked, you know?”

Yoongi nodded slowly. “It’s a pretty colour. Suits you.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Seokjin teased, raising a brow as he shot a quick glance at Yoongi.

“You know you are,” Yoongi said simply. There was no point in denying it, even if Yoongi was hoping the darkness concealed the blush that he felt creeping up his cheeks. “You wouldn’t have told a room full of councilmen you were if you didn’t know that.”

“True,” Seokjin agreed with a small, pleased hum. “It’s still nice to hear someone else say it though.”

“I’m sure.”

Seokjin scanned his face for a moment, not saying anything, and then he grabbed the maps he’d been piling off to the left and handed them to Yoongi. “These ones are okay.”

“Oh?” Yoongi asked, taking them from him. There were only three here, four other ones were still stacked on the right and a few more were scattered around the circle, seemingly still in the process of being looked over. “Just these ones?”

Nodding, Seokjin tapped the other pile. “These four don’t necessarily cause issues but what I’ve seen from them will interfere with the three I just handed you and those ones fit with the visions I already had with no war, so…”

“Better safe than sorry,” Yoongi agreed, flipping through the maps he now held. They were basic supply lines and encampment plans. Two indefensible positions in between mountains and preventing access to the pass that led deeper into the country. The third was closer to the main market that’d had more foreign visitors lately. All of them were in positions that made sense, regardless of aggression from another party. In fact, Yoongi was a little surprised there weren’t permanent installations there already. Maybe he’d mention that to his father. “What about the ones still in the circle?”

“I’m working on it,” Seokjin said, turning forward again. He shifted to re-adjust his legs, crossing them in the opposite way than he’d had before, and closed his eyes again. Yoongi watched, as he had seven times already, the circle flared a bright pink, and then the light dimmed and seep through the lines Seokjin had drawn, seeking out the map currently under review.

Was review even the right word? Yoongi found himself, not for the first time, struggling with putting words to what he was seeing. He knew he had a tendency to use more normal, everyday language to describe what Seokjin was doing but he didn’t know how else to categorize it. Seokjin was doing some sort of magic prediction on whether or not his plans would cause a fucking war. By looking into the future. And glowing pink. And being fucking hot. Though the last part was probably unrelated. Potentially. Yoongi was starting to doubt most things.

Or maybe it was just late and he was fixating because he was watching a hot man destroy his worldview repeatedly. Less than a month ago, he’d said loudly and firmly that magic didn’t exist, he’d worried that his mother was being taken advantage of, he’d scoffed at the idea, and now he’d seen example after example right before his eyes that he’d been wrong. 

He didn’t have a problem with being wrong. That wasn’t really what the issue was. It was more that, if magic existed, what else did? Were the creatures all the old stories whispered about real? And, on a more purely selfish level, what was stopping someone like Seokjin from taking everything from him. No one would be able to stop him, that was obvious even without a demonstration of his more aggressive skills—not that Yoongi was positive he had any, but it seemed like he would. Yoongi himself had military training so why wouldn’t Seokjin? And if he did, what was stopping him and every other witch from combining those skills with their magic?

Truthfully, Yoongi wanted to ask. He’d spent his entire life surrounded by people who’d stab their own blood to get ahead, to get more power, more money, so it simply didn’t make sense to him that witches wouldn’t do the same. They were just as human as all the councilmen chomping at the bit for the chance to push someone down, so why wouldn’t they use that power if they had it?

A bright flash tore Yoongi from his catastrophizing just in time to see a nauseous-looking Seokjin light one of the maps on fire in his hand. It floated up from his palm, small flames licking at the edges and eating their way inwards until the map disintegrated into a cloud of black dust and was carried away by wind Yoongi couldn’t help but feel was unnatural. “Uh? Bad one?” 

“Don’t do that one,” Seokjin said harshly, his eyes wide and earnest.

“I, uh, don’t even know which one it was?” Yoongi admitted. He had a decent memory, but he wasn’t sure which maps Seokjin had worked through and which ones he hadn’t. Seokjin sighed and rubbed his forehead, his shoulders drooping in a way Yoongi had never seen. Even with their somewhat limited interactions so far, Yoongi could tell this posture was unusual. It didn’t suit Seokjin or his aura. It felt wrong. “Would telling me make it worse?”

Seokjin shook his head, his hand dropping to his lap. “No, you need to know which one. I should have shown you before burning it. I apologize.”

“I wonder how many people can say a witch has apologized to them,” Yoongi teased Seokjin, mimicking his earlier words back to him.

A small smile ghosted over Seokjin’s lips at that. “Not many, I’m sure.”

“Then consider me flattered,” Yoongi replied softly.

Seokjin hummed, the sound more tired than usual. “I don’t know exactly where it was. I saw a meadow?”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, nodding slightly as he shifted to the maps he’d already gotten from Seokjin. There was a large open green space near the market that locals used for growing small patches of less in-demand crops. It wasn’t technically allowed since it was royal land, but no one in his family cared enough to stop it. Plus, the last time Yoongi was there, he’d thought it was quite pretty and some of the herbs had a nice smell. Yoongi pointed to that area on the map. It was cut off, but the general area was clear. “This one?”

Seokjin scanned it and nodded. “I think so. I saw taller hills nearby but no mountains.”

“That makes sense,” Yoongi agreed. “The mountains here are only visible from the west, obviously. The east has more grassy hills.”

“Why’d you put people here?” Seokjin asked.

Yoongi frowned slightly. “The locals use the area a lot but it’s a straight shot to the border over those hills. It just seemed risky for them to be there unprotected. The closest populated area is the market but it’s fairly fair. Farther than someone could scream or run over if needed.”

“I think…” Seokjin hesitated. “I’m not sure how but they can see this from their side.”

“How?” Yoongi asked despite Seokjin having just said he didn’t know. “Never mind. I’ll leave it out. Thank you.”

“It was a good idea,” Seokjin said after a moment. “To protect those people.”

Yoongi’s frown dipped into a scowl. “How many people would have died?”

Seokjin paused. “Too many.”

“Then it wasn’t a good idea.” Seokjin started to protest. His predictions weren’t even guaranteed—he didn’t want Yoongi doubting his choices over potential issues—but before he could say any of that, Yoongi straightened and waved a hand. “Continue. Please.”

“Okay,” Seokjin relented after a moment, refocusing on the last two maps at Yoongi’s request. The first seemed connected to the last map so, after showing it to Yoongi again, he burned it too. It might be overcautious, but he didn’t want anyone else seeing them and putting those plans into action. The last was a camp near the village itself. Seokjin wasn’t sure what purpose it served but focusing his magic on it just intensified some of the snapshots of the future he’d seen before that ended well so he put it in the good pile alongside the other three he’d given Yoongi previously.

“That’s all of them?” Yoongi asked.

“It is,” Seokjin confirmed, pushing himself up. He grabbed the previous four that had been pushed aside but didn’t have catastrophic consequences and handed them to Yoongi. He took them, flipping through them quickly with a tiny nod, then handed them back. Seokjin’s hands closed around the stiff parchment automatically before he realized what had happened. “Why are you giving these back to me?”

“Burn them,” Yoongi said simply. “I don’t want anything to interfere with the future you’ve already seen.”

Seokjin hesitated for a second then nodded, lighting them up as he’d done to the previous two. Yoongi watched the black dust be swept away impassively then he turned to Seokjin and bowed. Seokjin practically leapt out of his skin in his haste to lift Yoongi back up. He may not care about royalty, but he had manners. “Your Highness!”

“Thank you for all you’ve done for us,” Yoongi said sincerely. “No one is going to thank you, not really, so I’ll do it.”

“Please straighten,” Seokjin pleaded, immediately relaxing when Yoongi did as he was asked. “Ach, don’t do that! You’re a prince! What would people say?”

“Nothing they haven’t already.” Yoongi shrugged then glanced down at the maps he held. “I’ll present these to my father. Hopefully, we won’t need your skills again. At least not of this kind.”

“It’s my job, Your Highness,” Seokjin reminded him.

“What happened to Yoongichi?” Yoongi asked, smiling slightly. He still wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with Seokjin using his sister-in-law’s nickname, or even if he actually liked it, but he found himself asking anyway.

Seokjin snorted despite himself. The whole atmosphere had grown tense so quickly and Seokjin wasn’t even sure why, but Yoongi’s little comment dispelled it instantly, allowing Seokjin’s shoulders to relax. “I figured I should save it for the right time.”

“Hmmm.”

“What? You want me to call you Yoongichi? Do you like it?” Seokjin teased, stepping closer. “Do you like having a nickname?”

“I’ve never had one. Aside from that one,” Yoongi admitted, his eyes flicking to Seokjin’s and then away. “I will have to get used to it.”

“Well, what are friends for?” Seokjin asked, his face breaking out into a large smile as Yoongi’s surprised eyes met his again.

“I suppose so,” Yoongi relented before stepping back. “I’ll let you know what the king says about these plans.”

Seokjin’s smile dimmed a bit, but he nodded. “Of course. Have a good night.”

“You as well,” Yoongi returned, turning to head back to his own rooms.

“Sleep well, Yoongichi!” Seokjin called.

Yoongi didn’t stop or even pause at Seokjin’s words, but he did smile. Just a bit. Maybe he didn’t mind having a nickname after all.

♔♔♔

The next morning, Yoongi awoke to the sound of knocking on his door. He opened his eyes and frowned at the ceiling, wondering who hated him enough to knock so loudly and so early. It took him over a minute to remember that he’d asked the kitchens to prepare him breakfast so that he’d have a more healthy sleep schedule as was befitting a prince. He’d made himself do it the second he’d left Seokjin’s rooms the afternoon before because he’d known his tendency to work at night would prevent him from doing so.

He was regretting that now.

“Your Highness?”

Groaning, Yoongi rolled himself out of bed and grabbed the outer layer of one of his robes. He knew his hair was a mess and wild around his shoulders, but he wasn’t awake enough to care. He simply shuffled to the door and opened it, wincing at the sunlight as it streamed in.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Your Highness. I was told to deliver breakfast at the same time the crown prince’s was sent out,” the servant explained, watching Yoongi’s half-asleep eyes blink at him blurrily.

“That’s fine. It’s what I asked for,” Yoongi assured him, stepping back so the servant could enter. He came in quickly and set everything up. Yoongi stared at him, his eyes unseeing. He was still standing by the door when the servant finished and turned around to exit. He seemed surprised that Yoongi hadn’t moved but honestly Yoongi was happy he hadn’t fallen back asleep.

“Is there anything else, Your Highness?”

Yoongi shook his head. “No. That’s— actually, yes. Let the king know I wish to meet with him as soon as possible. It’s urgent.”

“Your Highness,” the servant said in confirmation before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him quietly.

Rubbing his face, Yoongi moved to the table and dropped down ungracefully. What would Seokjin say if he saw him now? So undignified. Yoongi rolled his eyes at himself, wondering why, when he was barely awake, he was already thinking about the court witch’s opinion of him. It’s not like it mattered, even if they were… friends. 

Yoongi poured himself some tea and drank it quickly before pouring a second cup and settling more comfortably into the cushions. He’d eat soon but he needed to be awake first. So he sipped the second cup more slowly, letting his mind wander. He was exhausted. He wasn’t sure when he’d returned to his rooms the night before, but the sky had already begun to lighten, just as it had the night before and the night before that. He’d been spending too many nights awake and days sleeping or operating on sheer willpower. He wasn’t usually this bad but the stress of Taeso’s pregnancy and the potential for war was making it harder for him to sleep when there was work to be done.

Except that might be done now. Yoongi’s eyes drifted to his bedroom where the maps were hidden away. If his father approved the plans Seokjin had gone over, all he’d need to do was pass the information onto his brother, who would delegate the task to the commanders of each section. He was, in theory, done. With this task at least. He had a half dozen other things he was needed for every given day but those were all part of his normal routine, things he’d grown used to doing at the tender age of twelve when he’d been deemed old enough to take on his official duties. He’d be back to a time before he’d idly worried if his blonde hair was actually just grey from all the stress.

Sighing to himself, Yoongi put his cup down and leaned forward, eyeing the assortment of food in front of him as he tried to decide what he wanted to eat. He settled on just rice for now, his body still protesting at the idea of being awake and eating after so little sleep.

He’d only just managed to take a bite when there was another knock at the door. This time, Yoongi answered immediately. “Come in.”

The servant from before stepped inside and bowed. “The King has said he’ll see you in an hour. The general will also be present.”

Holding back a grimace, Yoongi nodded. “I’ll be there. You’re dismissed.”

“Your Highness.”

The fucking general. Yoongi slammed the rice bowl down and pushed himself up, already heading to get ready properly. He’d hoped to just meet his father, which was why he hadn’t mentioned why he wanted to meet, but it shouldn’t surprise him that the general had been called in too. At least he had Seokjin on his side if he needed backup. But it wasn’t like Seokjin would be there, which meant he’d be alone.

Standing swiftly, Yoongi moved to the door and opened it, leaning outside. An attendant moved to him immediately. “Tell the crown prince I am meeting with the king and General Park in three-quarters of an hour.”

The attendant bowed and left swiftly to do as he was asked. Yoongi nodded to himself and returned to getting ready. At least this way he wouldn’t be alone. The general might talk down to him as he usually did but Hyungki would never allow it which would give him time to explain his plans in greater detail if needed.

It’d work.

♔♔♔

“The final location, here,” Yoongi explained, gesturing to the encampment just beside the town from the last map Seokjin had approved, “is more of a meeting post than anything. It provides easy access to communication lines and supplies if needed.”

The king nodded, frowning as he leaned over the table and scanned the setup. Like before, it was largely defensive but there was more detail now. It was clear that Yoongi had put a lot of work into thinking about how the troops would move if needed and how they’d interact with the local people and environment. It was one of the benefits the king had foreseen by dividing the powers between his two sons. Being in charge of a smaller section allowed them to be more in touch with how it worked. However… “The court witch looked over these?”

Yoongi nodded. “We did predictions based on the plans we’d drawn up. Six of the options were disregarded due to unfavourable outcomes. All those listed here supposedly lead to the future he foresaw with no war. He said,” Yoongi paused, trying to remember Seokjin’s exact wording, “that these plans allowed his image of the future to be more clear.”

“What of the disregarded options?” The general asked, speaking for the first time since entering. He’d looked pensive the entire time, rather than angry, so Yoongi took that as a win.

“They were destroyed.”

Both the king and general looked up in shock. “Why?”

Yoongi hesitated, then, shooting a look at his brother, explained, “Two of them led to what seems to have been an outright massacre. Seo—the court witch was very shaken by it. The other four interfered with the future these four here would accomplish.”

The general sneered. “How do you know the witch wasn’t purposefully directing you to a future that benefited him?”

“I don’t,” Yoongi said honestly then smiled slightly with a head tilt he knew would piss the man off, “but it was your idea that I work with him. Are you saying now he can’t be trusted?”

“I am merely pointing out it was foolish of his highness to trust the witch blindly,” the general offered, though his irritation at being called out was clear for everyone, even the king, to see.

The king’s brow twitched before he looked at Yoongi. “You know which areas he advised against?”

“I do. If needed, they are strategically important, but given the potential for bloodshed, I’d prefer keeping them empty and only coming back to them if we are actually threatened.”

“And what do you think lining the borders with troops is then?” The general snapped, slamming his hand on the table.

“Precautionary,” Hyungki interrupted. “We are doing the same. Who’s to say their royal family was not told something that caused them to react like that? Without confirmation, we can’t act rashly.”

The general grimaced, his lips moving to say something more, but the king interrupted, “If the witch said this is the way to peace, we’ll go with Yoongi’s plans. If that changes, we’ll re-evaluate.”

“Your Highness,” Yoongi said softly, bowing in thanks. He wanted to stick his tongue out at the general, but he held himself back. It took a lot of willpower and he felt he deserved praise. He wasn’t sure Hyungki would agree.

“However, Hyungki raises a good point,” the general said, suddenly speaking much softer than he had before.

“Which is?” The king prompted.

“We don’t know what’s going on. All we have is hearsay from people. I suggest someone else go to see the area and make an assessment,” the general said.

Hyungki shot a look at Yoongi that screamed he can’t be the one that goes and Yoongi inclined his head subtly in agreement. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was one of the choices Seokjin had mentioned. One of the decisions the general makes that causes a war. He couldn’t let that happen. “I will go.”

“Yoongi?” The king and Hyungki burst out at the same time.

Levelling the general with a long look, Yoongi straightened his shoulders and turned to his father. “I will go. Kim Namjoon can accompany me and show me the areas he investigated before. It will give me an opportunity to look after the setup of the camps as well.”

The king hesitated plainly. It was obvious he didn’t want to allow Yoongi to go. For all intents and purposes, the border could erupt into a battlefield at any time. His wife would make him sleep on the floor if she heard he’d sent her youngest into a battle, especially when he’d assured her he would do his best to prevent either of their sons from fighting a war as he’d had to do. And yet, as he looked at Yoongi’s determined face and the nonplussed expression of General Park, he knew he had to say yes. “That’s a good idea. You can travel with the units relocating to the area for added protection. I’ll contact Councilman Kim and discuss the matter with his son, Namjoon. Be ready to travel in a fortnight.”

“Your Highness,” Yoongi thanked again, bowing. This time he couldn’t stop himself from sending the general a triumphant look. The sheer anger on his face was well worth it. Suddenly it didn’t matter that Yoongi had slept maybe three hours the night before. He could do anything with this sense of victory coursing through him.

♔♔♔

Except, apparently, refuse his mother. 

“Mother, I don’t need—”

“Nonsense,” the queen interrupted, all but dragging Yoongi with her towards Seokjin’s chambers where he was waiting for her. They had a standing tea meeting that Yoongi hadn’t been aware of which now, apparently, included him. 

“I’m sure you’d—”

“Have you not grown out of arguing with your mother?” the queen once again interrupted, this time sending her song a quelling look.

Yoongi folded like the weak man he was. “Sorry, mother.”

The queen smiled brightly and continued walking, only pausing long enough for her handmaiden to knock on Seokjin’s door and open it for her. 

Except it didn’t open.

The handmaiden fumbled, clearly not expecting the door to remain firmly closed. She shot the queen a panicked look and tried again, but it stayed shut. Yoongi realized Seokjin must have barred the door with a talisman as he’d done before. He could open it apparently, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to invade Seokjin’s privacy like that. After a moment’s hesitation, Yoongi settled on explaining. “The court witch seals his door with magic when he’s conducting spells to prevent someone from stumbling in. If you knock a few times, he’ll open it when he’s ready.”

The queen raised a brow at Yoongi, clearly wondering how he knew that, but decided not to ask at that moment. Instead, she turned to the handmaiden and smiled. “Do as the prince says. Seokjin is aware I’m coming so he’ll come when he can.”

Bowing, the handmaiden knocked several times with increasing volume. Seokjin didn’t answer. In fact, it took nearly five minutes for him to do so and by then Yoongi was already in the process of knocking himself, worry overriding his desire to respect Seokjin’s version of a locked door. The door had just cracked open as it’d done the previous time when Seokjin appeared in the empty space, his eyes wide and hair mussed. “Sorry.”

Yoongi furrowed his brows, forgetting his mother for a moment. “Seokjin, are you alright?”

Seokjin blinked, only then seeming to realize that Yoongi was standing beside his mother. “Oh, uh, yes? Mostly? Give me… you know what, never mind. Come in, come in.”

Nodding toward the handmaiden to dismiss her, the queen followed Seokjin inside, her arm still linked around Yoongi’s. The second they stepped into the rooms, they both halted in shock. It looked… like something had exploded. That was all Yoongi could think of. Yoongi’s eyes swept around the room, falling to the circle in the middle of it all, his eyes widening. “Did your circle explode?”

“Uh,” Seokjin hesitated, “kinda?”

“Circle? Explode? What?” The queen asked, her eyes round in shock as he took in the mess of Seokjin’s normally immaculate living space.

“That,” Yoongi explained, pointing at the large circle Seokjin had clearly drawn on the floor. It was different than the one he’d seen before, the characters and shape completely different, but he was confident it was the same thing: as in, a focal point of Seokjin’s magic. “He draws a circle with characters and lines for spells. I’ve seen him do it for the predictions. This, however…”

Seokjin winced, waving a hand quickly. Almost immediately, things started to move, shelves and furniture righting themselves, dust and stains from things that had been destroyed slowly shrinking until they were gone. As they watched, the entire room returned to its previous state aside from the circle, which remained where Seokjin had drawn it. “Usually this doesn’t happen.”

“Why didn’t we hear anything from outside?” The queen asked, still looking around in concern.

“I seal my rooms for privacy,” Seokjin explained quickly, already redirecting them to the now repaired table. “You never know who might want to meddle in magic.”

The queen hummed, her eyes sharp as they looked at Seokjin. “You never know.”

Yoongi felt like he was missing something, but he was more concerned with the explosion. “What happened? Were you at the center of it? Are you okay?”

Seokjin huffed. “Yes, Yoongichi— ah, yes, Your Highness, I’m fine. I didn’t have the right ingredients, so my spell rebounded on me and… caused a bit of a mess. I’m perfectly fine.”

“You said you’d go to town and get more supplies if you ran out!” Yoongi all but snapped, missing the slip of his nickname and their casual tone entirely. 

His mother, however, did not.

“Yes, yes, and I’m doing that tomorrow,” Seokjin assured, flicking his wrist in assurance and, in the process, conjuring a teapot, three cups, and some snacks. “I simply wanted to see if I could improve the soil for Jimin before I went.”

The queen cut in, “Soil for Jimin? Park Jimin?”

Seokjin hummed in confirmation. “Yes, I’m trying to improve his soil for growing delicate flowers.”

“Didn’t you already do that?” Yoongi asked, once again looking at the circle. He hadn’t been mistaken, it was completely different from last time. And there was no soil. “Where’s the soil bag?”

“Didn’t survive the… incident, I’m afraid,” Seokjin explained easily, pouring tea for the queen and Yoongi without looking up. “He’ll bring me more if I ask, so it’s no issue.”

Yoongi frowned. Something felt… off about Seokjin’s story. He shot a look at his mother, who was watching Seokjin with kind eyes, and decided he’d ask when they had a moment in private. “I’m sure he would. He’s quite determined.”

“What are the flowers for?” The queen asked. “All the ones he’s in charge of around the palace are gorgeous as is.”

Hesitating, both Seokjin and Yoongi looked up, their eyes locking automatically. Neither spoke but they didn’t need to speak to know they were both about to lie. Yoongi went first. “He’s trying to make a new breed, it appears. He’s always been a hard worker.”

The queen sighed. “I do wish he’d rest more. He seems so gung-ho on proving his worth to his father that I worry.”

“It’s a passion project,” Seokjin added, smiling gently. “So I wouldn’t worry.”

“It’s a mother’s job, even if I’m the queen,” the queen said, then shifted to look at Yoongi, “which reminds me! What is this I hear about you going to the border?”

Seokjin looked up at the same time Yoongi winced. “Mother… Now isn’t the time.”

The queen huffed, the look she sent him telling Yoongi this conversation would not end here. “Fine, Seokjin, how has your day been, dear? Aside from the… explosion.”

Meeting the somewhat pleading look of Yoongi, Seokjin allowed for the change in subject. “It was good. I’ve been doing a series of minor spells for the people of the palace: making a sword that never dulls, talismans to keep tea warm, things like that.”

“That seems awfully… menial,” Yoongi observed.

Seokjin shrugged and took a sip of his tea. “It is but those spells are good practice for the fundamentals so it’s good to go back and practice them. I also met with the princess to make sure she’s doing okay.”

The queen perked up at that, her face showing naked concern. “Is she alright? Did she summon you? Did she need—”

“We already saw her before, mother,” Yoongi interrupted to assure her that the princess was fine. “When she had the false labour, I brought Seokjin to look her over.”

“Oh…” the queen settled a bit. The idea that the princess would call for a witch suddenly had scared her but knowing it was more casual made her feel better. That and Yoongi’s casual usage of we again. It seemed they were spending plenty of time together, as she’d suspected. “She’s okay?”

Seokjin nodded. “Yes. She’s just bored of staying in bed so she wanted to know if it’d be safe to move around a bit more. The doctors were vague in their answers so she wanted to ask me. The crown prince seemed concerned, but the princess is strong and the baby is doing well. We had a nice tea once I gave her permission to move around their rooms if she was cautious.”

The queen nodded with a small frown. “I’ll go visit her later. I’m sure I can come up with something to keep her entertained.”

“I’m sure,” Yoongi teased lightly.

Taking his teasing in stride, the queen’s expression shifted to a smile as she touched the ends of Yoongi’s hair. “Maybe the baby will be born with your beautiful hair.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, ignoring the little smack his mother gave him for the bad habit. “Why would that happen?”

“A witch blessed you!” The queen reminded him. “I’m sure Seokjin’s help did the same.”

“I’m sure that’s not how that works,” Yoongi muttered, throwing Seokjin a look.

“It’s not,” Seokjin agreed. “In fact, it’s quite rare for witches to bless children. His highness is very lucky if that’s the case.”

“See, Yoongi? I told you it was a good thing,” the queen said, practically preening. It was so much better to discuss such things now that Yoongi believed her. Before he’d been so dismissive of the mere idea, but now he listened. She wondered if she could use that to her advantage. “Do you think his hair is a sign of the blessing? I’ve always assumed it was.”

Seokjin, of course, had known that since Yoongi told him, but he tilted his head as if he was considering it for the first time. Yoongi shot him a look, but he ignored it and reached out to touch Yoongi’s hair just as the queen had done. It was improper, most of his behaviour towards Yoongi today had been, but his mind was already focused on the issue at hand. Or rather, the question he’d been trying to answer since it’d first come up: was Yoongi blessed by a witch or was something else going on? He barely even noticed when Yoongi flinched back. It didn’t stop him from grabbing a few strands and winding them around his fingers, which had been his original intent. “It is beautiful.”

The queen waved her hand. “Of course he is.”

“Mother.”

Somewhat surprised, both Seokjin and the queen turned to look at Yoongi, whose shoulders had risen to his ears and face had turned bright red. Seokjin still held some of his hair, but he wasn’t paying attention to that now. His eyes couldn’t help but trail over the prince’s cheeks and down his neck where the blush had spread. He was so fair that Seokjin was convinced it’d cover his whole body. He’d known, of course, that Yoongi found him attractive, it was fairly obvious, but faced with Yoongi’s blushing cheeks and wide, shimmering eyes, Seokjin was speechless. 

It was only the queen’s light, easy laugh that pulled him back to the present. “Oh, Yoongi, I’m just teasing!”

Yoongi sighed, his cheeks still red as his eyes dipped down to his lap. Seokjin removed his hand from Yoongi’s hair and sat back. “It’s possible. I can look into it.”

“You don’t have to—” Yoongi began to protest again since he’d already told Seokjin not to bother.

“Please do!” The queen said at the same time, giving Seokjin exactly what he wanted. He’d been planning on asking around anyway and his previous attempt had gone badly enough his curiosity was already peaking. Plus, he’d mostly dealt with the war stuff so he had nothing but time, why not look into it?

Chapter Text

With the queen’s blessing in mind—and his need for more supplies—Seokjin woke early the next day and headed for the town. He hadn’t gone back since the queen had convinced him to move into the palace. It wasn’t far away or even that much of an inconvenience, but the palace had most things he needed so why bother? 

Now, however, he had a reason.

Seokjin kept his pace slow, unsure if he was being watched or not, and spent some time looking around the market for the more normal things he’d need. Most herbs grown by everyday farmers were good enough for spells, especially the low-level stuff he’d been doing since moving to the palace, so he stocked up, smiling sweetly at the booth-keepers, both male and female alike. He didn’t care if the general’s spies saw that at least.

With that thought in mind, Seokjin flirted with a woman nearly his own age, who had a grandchild drawing in the dirt just behind her, biding his time. After nearly ten minutes, he smiled again. “You’ve been lovely.”

“You trying to bore those men following you?” The old woman asked.

Seokjin raised a brow. “Not bore, just spot. I wasn’t sure who was following me but now I know their faces.”

“Smart. Not just a pretty face,” she observed.

“Oh, no, I am definitely only a pretty face,” Seokjin teased, tilting his head so he could see the spies’ movement.

The old woman shook her head and stepped away from the booth, kneeling down beside her grandchild and whispering something to him. The child looked up, his small lips falling into a pout, and then he smiled and jumped up, running into the crowd. After a few seconds, he latched onto the leg of one of the men Seokjin had decided was a spy and started screaming. Seokjin widened his eyes and looked at the old woman, who shooed him along. “Go, while they’re distracted.”

“Thank you!” Seokjin said quickly before taking off and ducking behind one of the houses. He spent some time weaving in and out of the side streets, keeping his eyes open for the spies. Only when he was sure he wasn’t being followed anymore did he relax and turn on his heel, headed in the direction of his friend’s small cottage. It was hidden away in the trees, away from people, but Seokjin knew exactly where it was. After all, he’d helped him build it.

Kim Taehyung wasn’t as old as he was, but he was close. The closest Seokjin had met in all his years. There were plenty of witches older than him and even more who were younger than him, but there seemed to be a shortage of witches around the hundred-year mark. Either that or Seokjin hadn’t looked hard enough. Either was entirely possible honestly.

Regardless, Taehyung was somewhere around sixty so, and, though he was younger, Seokjin felt comfortable around him. Plus, Taehyung tended to be quiet and contemplative, which Seokjin also enjoyed. They didn’t see each other much, but Seokjin always made sure to stop by when he was in town. Or when he needed something, like now.

The second he stepped through the wooden gate and into what could only be described as a garden wonderland, Taehyung appeared at the door, a brow raised. “And to what do I owe the honour of a visit from the Court Witch Kim Seokjin?”

Seokjin rolled his eyes and ran towards him, pulling him into a hug that doubled as a chokehold. “Oh, lay off. Have you met the queen?” 

“Can’t say that I have,” Taehyung denied, shaking his grip off easily.

“Well, you’d get it if you had. She’s quite determined and honestly hilarious. Best boss I’ve had.”

“You’ve never had a boss.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Seokjin said, shrugging.

Taehyung shook his head and went into his house. Seokjin followed, his eyes ghosting over the plant life that wove its way through Taehyung’s home. The cottage was less a building and more a trellis on which the plants and natural world built themselves. It was sustained by Taehyung’s magic and will alone and it was beautiful. Seokjin had spent many months refining spells and magical material so that the cottage could be maintained long-term—and remain standing if Taehyung left for a period of time. It’d been a very rewarding and fun experience. He’d declined to do the same for his own house though. He’d rather not feed his magic into a building. But that was just him and this place suited Taehyung down to his bones.

“You don’t write, you don’t visit. I hear all the gossip from the baby witch down the way. What’s a man to think?” Taehyung whined as soon as they were settled in the kitchen, a warm teapot set between them. 

“That letters can be sent two ways,” Seokjin rebutted.

“True, true,” Taehyung agreed. “So, why are you really here? It’s not to inspect my garden.”

“Well, actually, that’s a bit of the reason why. I don’t have access to anything magical in the palace as of yet. Still working on the whole garden thing. It requires so many permissions and the involvement of one too many non-magicked people and I can’t be bothered.”

“So you want to raid my stash,” Taehyung said blandly as he sipped his tea.

“A bit,” Seokjin admitted with a wide smile.

Taehyung rolled his eyes but nodded. “Of course. Whatever you need. Take what you can carry and I can send more after you so you have a backup supply.”

Seokjin reached across the table and grabbed Taehyung’s hand, squeezing gently. “Thank you, Tae. Seriously.”

“No thanks needed,” Taehyung said immediately, waving the words away. 

“I do… have something else though,” Seokjin said slowly, unsure how to broach the topic.

“Oh? Court gossip?” Taehyung asked, leaning forward in interest.

Seokjin shook his head with a small smile. “Not so much. Well, actually, maybe? You’ve seen the second prince?”

“With that hair and face? Of course,” Taehyung agreed, smiling with a raised brow. “Rumour is you’re his type. Are you dipping into the royal pool, hyung?”

“No,” Seokjin denied, shaking his head. “Can’t say I haven’t thought about it. He is pretty. Smart too. But no, that’s not why I’m bringing him up. The point is his hair. Have you heard about it?”

Taehyung frowned slightly, his eyes taking on a faraway quality as he remembered what he’d heard over the years. “Most people think he’s cursed but he doesn’t feel like that. He’s not, right?”

“Nope. The council had me check. It was a whole thing,” Seokjin revealed, rolling his eyes.

“I bet,” Taehyung snickered. “Other than that, I haven’t heard much. Just normal shit about him being illegitimate.”

“Right,” Seokjin nodded slowly. “What about thirty years ago? You remember an unusual witch coming to town?”

“Thirty years ago, or twenty-nine?” Taehyung asked pointedly.

“Twenty-nine,” Seokjin admitted sheepishly.

Taehyung tapped his finger to the side of his cup, his eyes drifting to the window. “You think a witch did something to him?”

Seokjin grimaced. “I don’t know. The queen says a witch stayed with them when she was pregnant because she had nowhere else to go,” Seokjin broke off when Taehyung raised a pointed brow at that, “I know. She’d have had several witches to go to. It doesn’t make sense. Yoongi is the one who figured that out actually. He’s worried she did something and it was unusual enough for me to want to look into it and then—” Seokjin broke off. “And then I nearly blew up my entire room trying.”

The Day Prior:

Seokjin dragged the chalk across the floor of his room, lifting his hand with a little snap as he connected the circle, then stepped back and looked over his work. This was the first time he was doing anything so complex in a while, so he wanted to make sure he was doing it right. He scanned the characters, seeing the ones for ‘trace’ and ‘connection’ on either side of the circle, situated to the North and South, respectively, and the few strands of hair Seokjin had managed to steal when Yoongi wasn’t looking. Between all that were characters denoting the flow of magic and finding the residue that any witch left after performing a spell.

He didn’t know anything about this witch, only that she’d been here about thirty years prior and that she’d have to be relatively powerful. It wasn’t a small thing to bless a child—or do anything to one actually. Anything that required fiddling with human anatomy was complex and higher level. So she had to be powerful. Which, honestly, just raised more questions: why would a powerful witch stay with the royal family so randomly?

Deciding the circle was the best he could make with the limited information he had, Seokjin set a map in the final spot just in front of where he’d sit in the middle and then moved into place, crossing his legs. As he usually did, he took a steadying breath and channelled his magic through his body and out into the circle. The faint pink light grew in intensity as he pushed more and more power into the spell. It was calming almost, the familiarity of it. He’d missed doing more complex spells.

When he felt the magic funnel back towards him and into the map, he smiled and opened his eyes, watching as lines appeared on the parchment, tracing out the path that the witch with the same power signature had taken. He’d tried to refine the spell to any movement that was the same age as the residue on Yoongi’s hair, but he wasn’t sure it worked. The lines were long and chaotic, indicating movement all over the place with no rhyme or reason.

He was still staring at the lines when the talisman on the door lit up, alerting him to someone’s presence. He looked over in confusion, wondering who’d be coming to see him now. It took him all of three seconds to realize that he’d forgotten his meeting with the queen. Wincing at himself, he moved to end the spell early, intent on finishing once he was alone, but before he could, he heard Yoongi’s voice through the door and the spell imploded.

Before Seokjin could do anything, the lines on the map darted sharply towards Yoongi’s voice and then the entire parchment caught fire. Seokjin scrambled up in shock, looking around frantically for something that could put out a magic fire. He didn’t get the chance to move. As soon as he was standing, the energy from the spell whooshed out and then rushed back, causing a loud bang as the energy collided with itself. Seokjin managed to duck down and huddle to protect himself. His room was not so lucky. Nor was the map. It was completely destroyed. As was all evidence of the witch’s existence in Seokjin’s rooms.

Present:

“The spell imploded?” Taehyung asked in surprise.

Seokjin nodded, a small frown on his face as he remembered the feeling of the energy literally exploding around him. “Yea. I was okay, only got hit by debris from the stuff in my room, but the second Yoongi came close, the whole thing exploded.”

Taehyung set his teacup down with a clack. “That sounds like some protective magic. That witch does not want to be found.”

“Nope,” Seokjin agreed with a small nod.

“Too bad I was never good at paying attention to warnings,” Taehyung quipped, crossing his arms. “Let her try and hide from me.”

“From us,” Seokjin corrected, though he was smiling. He’d known he could count on Taehyung. That witch was as good as found.

♔♔♔

The king was not a fearful man. He’d fought wars; he’d had his own brother and his supporters executed; he’d made hard decisions that affected the lives of thousands—for better or worse.

And yet.

Sooyoung raised an eyebrow, her eyes meeting her husband’s as she brushed out her hair. She was using the comb he’d gifted her for their anniversary, so he was hoping that was a good sign. “My love.”

“Byungho,” Sooyoung returned, her tone level and without inflection.

The king winced. “He volunteered, Soo. What was I supposed to say? If I’d denied him, it would look like I didn’t trust him!”

Sooyoung hummed and set down her comb, turning away from her vanity so she could look at her husband more closely. “Is that really why?”

“Mostly,” Byungho answered immediately, then added, “That asshole of a general is trying to undermine Hyungki and Yoongi and they need to be able to prove themselves without me there. Hyungki will have his chance when he becomes king, Yoongi won’t. That sham of a test for a curse was only the first step. Yoongi needs this.”

“Are you concerned for him?” Sooyoung asked softly, watching her husband’s face closely.

Byungho hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Rising from her seat, Sooyoung went to her husband’s side and met his eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not,” Byungho denied, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I’m being paranoid or not. I didn’t watch my brother and the generals close enough before and look at what happened. Now, I’m watching too closely. Maybe.”

Sooyoung touched his cheek and smiled. “It’s not too close if it protects our sons.”

Byungho smiled sheepishly. “So you’re not mad at me?”

“Oh, I’m furious,” Sooyoung corrected, patting his cheek and stepping back, “but you can make it up to me?”

“Anything.”

♔♔♔

Yoongi blinked at Seokjin blandly. “What are you doing here?”

Seokjin shrugged, his eyes travelling over the countless men milling around, awaiting instruction before they set out for the border town and the planned camps. “King’s orders.”

“Right…” Yoongi said, sighing loudly. “The king or the general?”

“The queen, I think,” Seokjin replied, sensing what Yoongi was getting at: who was behind the order. “That was the sense I got anyway.”

Yoongi raised a brow, reminding Seokjin of the woman in question, then waved his hand dismissively. Nothing he could do about it regardless. “Fine, how are you travelling?”

Seokjin smiled and stepped closer. “With you, of course! Can’t be bothered to ride a horse. Especially not for that long!”

“My carriage?” Yoongi clarified.

“Yup,” Seokjin agreed, already making his way toward the door of the carriage in question. “You don’t mind, right?”

“No,” Yoongi lied. He’d been hoping to find time to talk to Namjoon before they arrived, which meant the carriage would be awfully crowded with all three of them. Especially since Namjoon and Seokjin were so big. Why did they have to be that big? What purpose did it serve? “It’s fine.”

“Thanks, Yoongichi.”

Before Yoongi could reply, he heard a muffled laugh and turned around, meeting Namjoon’s amused eyes. “Yoongichi, huh?”

“Don’t you dare,” Yoongi snapped.

Namjoon raised his hands in defence before turning to Seokjin and bowing swiftly. “Kim Namjoon.”

“Kim Seokjin,” Seokjin turned, eyeing the new arrival closely. He’d seen him around several times, but he’d never stopped to really look at him. He was tall, taller than Seokjin, and pretty. Considering Seokjin knew what Namjoon did for a living—a glorified spy, really—he couldn’t help but think his appearance was a benefit. He had a soft, trustworthy aura: kind eyes, smiling lips, and sweet dimples. You’d never suspect he’d be a threat.

Straightening, Namjoon smiled. “Oh? Which clan!?”

“Gwangsun,” Seokjin replied, hesitating a moment. He was unsure if his name was actually still on the registry. Witchcraft had a way of isolating its practitioners. 

“I’m Gangneung,” Namjoon told him though Seokjin hadn’t actually asked. Mostly because they didn’t need to. He’d noticed that one of the councilmen had the same last name as him and, though he hadn’t spent much time actually looking at Namjoon, he had made sure to know what family he came from. Largely because he didn’t want to run into a descendent and have to deal with all the politics that would entail.

“I know,” Seokjin admitted.

Namjoon smiled sharply. “I’d have been disappointed if you didn’t. Hyung? Are we set to go?”

Yoongi nodded and stepped past Seokjin, lifting himself into the carriage and sliding across the seats. Namjoon followed after, sitting on the bench across from him. It was an unspoken rule that no one sat on the same side as royalty, but Seokjin didn’t seem to know or care, because he dropped down beside Yoongi with a bright smile and closed the door beside him.

“Cozy,” Seokjin said after a moment, looking around. “Your family doesn’t have anything bigger?”

“They do,” Namjoon replied before Yoongi could answer, “but the mountain pass we have to take is narrow so it’d be harder with something bigger. Plus, hyung whines whenever we try to be more extravagant for him.”

“I do not whine,” Yoongi denied, huffing slightly. “I simply express how much of waste it is.”

“By whining,” Namjoon explained, laughing when Yoongi shot him a look.

Seokjin glanced between them, taking in Yoongi’s relaxed posture and slightly upturned lips. The use of ‘hyung’ told Seokjin this was another one of the people Yoongi had grown up with that he’d mentioned before, but Seokjin couldn’t help but notice Yoongi’s demeanour was different with Namjoon. He wasn’t sure how exactly, but he seemed more comfortable than Seokjin had ever seen him. So much so that he felt, for a moment, that he was intruding. “You’ve known each other for a long time?”

Namjoon met his eyes and nodded, his body swaying as the carriage started moving. “Pretty much since I was born. My mother grew up with the queen so while she was alive, I spent a lot of time at the palace. Plus, my dad is on the council so I’ve been around.”

Yoongi nodded. “He was the first kid I met that was near my age. Everyone else was Hyungki’s age.”

“That’s really nice,” Seokjin said honestly, smiling at them both. “It’s nice to have friends the same age. The closest I could get was someone around 60. But then again, at my age, what’s a few decades?”

Blinking, Namjoon’s mouth moved. “Right. I forgot you’re like… what? A hundred?”

“Something like that,” Seokjin confirmed.

“The person who’s 60,” Yoongi said, glancing at Seokjin in question, “they the witch you were going to get supplies from?”

Seokjin nodded. “Yup! I’ve known him since he was a fledgling of sorts, so I knew he’d help me out. He’s going to look into your witch too.”

“I already told you not to bother with that,” Yoongi insisted.

“Your... witch?” Namjoon interrupted, confusion heavy on his face. Yoongi merely flicked his hair in explanation and Namjoon nodded. “I see. From the queen’s stories.”

“Which reminds me,” Yoongi said, narrowing his eyes at Seokjin, “what actually happened in your rooms with the explosion? The circle was too different to be related to the soil and I asked Jimin, he hasn’t asked for extra help.”

Seokjin shook his head in mild exasperation. He should have known Yoongi would ask around about it. “It’s nothing—”

“Lie to me and I will throw you out of this carriage,” Yoongi interrupted harshly.

Raising his hands in placation, Seokjin sighed. “I tried to trace the witch and the spell backfired in a rather spectacular way. Taehyung—my witch friend—is looking into it.”

“I hate to state the obvious but wouldn’t the fact that your spell exploded mean she doesn’t want to be found?” Namjoon cut in.

“Yea, probably,” Seokjin agreed with a careless shrug, “but I’m curious and the queen asked so.”

Yoongi made a frustrated sound. “So, what? Now your friend is potentially going to get hurt over something that doesn’t matter?”

Seokjin raised a brow at that. He’d seen Yoongi’s face, seen the worry there, so he knew Yoongi wasn’t as unaffected as he was pretending. Now, however, didn’t seem like the place to bring it up so he just shrugged again. “Taehyung wants to look into it. I couldn’t stop him if I tried.”

“Are all witches stubborn then?”

“Most of us,” Seokjin agreed, trying for a winning smile. Yoongi merely sent him a baleful look, making Seokjin turn to Namjoon for support. He wasn’t watching him though, he was staring at Yoongi, something like contemplation on his face. Seokjin’s smile dimmed a bit, wondering what that expression meant. “Namjoon?”

“Hmmm?” Namjoon said, blinking slowly before he looked at Seokjin. “Yes?”

“Something on your mind?” Seokjin asked. He was aware he was being overly familiar but given how close Yoongi and Namjoon appeared to be, he felt like anything more formal would be out of place.

Thankfully, Namjoon didn’t seem to mind. “Just thinking about my plans for this trip.”

Yoongi turned to him. “You have plans?”

Namjoon inclined his head. “After I show you around, I have to take a detour and… investigate something else. For the crown prince.”

Since Hyungki hadn’t mentioned anything to Yoongi, this came as a surprise, but Namjoon was good at his job and well-liked so it wasn’t unusual for his brother to ask him to do things even if, technically, he worked more commonly for Yoongi. “You can leave after the first few days or however long it takes you to show me what you’ve investigated already.”

“Shouldn’t take too long,” Namjoon said after a moment before shifting in his seat and, taking Yoongi’s mention of his previous investigation as a cue, pulling up the bag he’d brought inside with him. He opened it and took out a map, unrolling it and settling it over his knees. He shuffled closer to Yoongi and pointed. “I started here and then…”

As Namjoon walked Yoongi through his process in preparation for their arrival at the border, Seokjin tuned them out. He didn’t need to know that much about the investigation—that was Yoongi’s job. As far as he knew, he was only on this trip to make sure nothing happened to Yoongi. The king hadn’t been explicit in those orders, but he’d told him to make sure everything went smoothly and Seokjin couldn’t help but read between the lines.

Given that he was a witch, it made sense that the king—and queen—would assume he could offer protection. They weren’t entirely wrong but not right either. It’d been decades since he’d held a sword and his magic wasn’t offensive. He did, however, know some very effective healing and camouflaging spells so that could help in a pinch.

Seokjin figured, however, that Namjoon was the one who’d offer the most protection. Like Yoongi, he carried a sword with him and he seemed to know how to use it. At least, he was comfortable with handling it. Was he asked to come because they’d known Namjoon had to leave? 

Shifting in his seat, Seokjin let his eyes settle on Yoongi and Namjoon. They’d leaned closer together in the time Seokjin had been spacing out. Their heads were bowed over the map and they were talking softly, words flowing in an almost continuous rhythm. Would Yoongi ever talk to him like that? He’d said they would be friends, but Yoongi hadn’t relaxed around him all that much. He used his name more, talked a bit more casually, but he still held himself stiffly, still watched what he said and when.

Maybe that’s what he’d spend this trip doing since he couldn’t really offer protection. While Yoongi set up the camps and investigated the area, Seokjin could make an effort to move their tentative friendship into a real one. He couldn’t investigate further into that witch from the border so this was the next best thing. Mission: befriend Yoongi for real.

♔♔♔

By the time they arrived at the border town, Seokjin was convinced that he’d never travel another way. By carriage was just so convenient. He’d walked the same distance before, even ridden a horse a few times, but both were exhausting in a way that taking a carriage wasn’t. He knew, of course, that the rest of the people accompanying him hadn’t been so lucky and he felt bad, but he allowed himself to be a little selfish at this moment. 

He’d planned on teasing Yoongi a bit, hoping to try and pretend he wanted a carriage as a gift from him, but the second they stepped out of the carriage, all those thoughts vanished like dust in the wind.

“Your Highness,” a well-dressed man said as he bowed before turning to Namjoon, “Councilman Kim, a pleasure to see you again.”

“Hyangni,” Namjoon greeted in return as he gestured to Seokjin. “This is the Royal Court Witch Kim Seokjin, here under direct orders from the king.”

“Court Witch,” the man said immediately, bowing just as deeply as he had for Namjoon. “I’ve taken the liberty to set up rooms at the local inn for you. I’m aware you plan on setting up a more permanent camp, but until then, I hope our inn will be sufficient.”

“I’m sure it will,” Yoongi assured him. “Take us there and, once we’ve cleaned up after our long journey, we can meet and discuss the plans we have come to put into effect.”

The hyangni bowed again and stepped back, clearly intent on doing as he’d been asked. Yoongi flicked his wrist at Namjoon and raised a brow. Without a word, the taller man nodded and slipped away, disappearing on the other side of the carriage. Seokjin watched him go, his lips falling into a confused frown. When he looked at Yoongi in question, Yoongi simply shook his head, an unspoken later in his eyes. 

Later turned out to be after they’d checked into their rooms and had some time to change. A servant appeared at his door just as he’d finished slipping into a more formal set of robes. “His Highness requests your presence.”

“Thank you, lead the way,” Seokjin said easily, following the servant down the hall to a much larger and nicer set of rooms. His were fine, standard aside from the additions someone had clearly thought to add for a royal visitor, but Yoongi’s reeked of wealth and power. It honestly didn’t suit how Seokjin thought of him, but watching Yoongi read over something at the table, Seokjin realized that was a silly thought. Yoongi was a prince. He was money and power and authority even if he didn’t wield it quite so harshly as others before him had.

“You may leave us,” Yoongi dismissed the second Seokjin was inside. The servant bowed and left, leaving them alone. “Do you want tea? It’s quite good.”

“I’m okay,” Seokjin denied, moving to join Yoongi at the table. “What are you reading?”

“Reports,” Yoongi explained, setting them down as he spoke. “The area has seen more and more foreigners since Namjoon was here last and I wanted to see what the general feeling of the people was.”

Seokjin let out a breath. “That’s where Namjoon went.”

“It is,” Yoongi confirmed, leaning back as he took a sip of his own tea. “Unfortunately, the general was right about us not knowing what the situation here is. Namjoon’s going to do more investigating in areas I can’t access. I’ll handle the political side that he can’t.”

Humming, Seokjin crossed his arms and leaned on the table. “You two make a good team.”

Yoongi nodded. “There was not always a time when we thought so. Namjoon’s methods are… unconventional. However, I’ve come to trust him and what he’s doing just as he trusts me to use his information well.”

“He said his father is a councilman?” Seokjin prompted.

“He is. Once upon a time, he did the same job for my father that Namjoon does for me,” Yoongi explained. “I suppose, if he’d been older, he’d have worked more closely with Hyungki and achieved a much higher position than he has now.”

Seokjin contemplated that for a moment then shook his head. “I don’t think he’d want that.”

“Perhaps. He’s not one to care for power or prestige.”

“You seem to surround yourself with men like that,” Seokjin observed. First the guard Jungkook, then the gardener Jimin, now the glorified spy Namjoon and the only briefly met councilman Jung Hoseok. From what Seokjin knew of these men, none of them cared much for power or money. It was interesting to Seokjin that Yoongi had managed to find such people in a pool he knew to be filled with sharks.

Yoongi hummed as he rose, moving to the screen set up in the corner. “Yes. As you’ve said, it’s important to have friends.”

“Does that mean you count me among those men?” Seokjin asked, watching as Yoongi disappeared behind the screen.

There was a shuffling of cloth, clearly the sounds of Yoongi changing, then a pause. “You’re the one who declared we are friends.”

“Yes,” Seokjin agreed, his eyes drifting away from the screen and to the reports Yoongi had left on the table. His first reaction was that doing so was careless and Yoongi should be more protective of his information. His second was the realization that, given their conversation, Yoongi was testing him. Would he look at the information and use it to his advantage or not? Seokjin turned back to the screen just as Yoongi stepped back out, now dressed in a much more formal, princely set of robes.

“So, are you among those men?” Yoongi wondered, gathering up the reports and storing them away.

“I’d like to be,” Seokjin said honestly.

Yoongi paused again, his hand on the lid of the trunk he’d been putting the reports in. He closed it slowly and locked it before straightening. He didn’t move for a moment, his face blank as he stared unseeing at the trunk in front of him. “I asked you once why you’re here.”

“You did.”

“You didn’t answer,” Yoongi reminded him.

Seokjin inclined his head. “I did not.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything more. He simply moved to the door and slid it open, the servant from before appearing the moment the door made it halfway across the tracks. “I’ll take you to the hyangni.”

After a moment’s hesitation—Seokjin wasn’t actually sure if he was supposed to go with him or not—Seokjin joined him, walking just behind Yoongi as they made their way to the bottom floor and into what appeared to be a private meeting room. 

The hyangni was sitting inside with Namjoon, but they weren’t speaking. When the door opened, announcing Yoongi’s arrival, they both stood and bowed as was appropriate. Seokjin barely comprehended the process, his mind still lingering on Yoongi’s words. I asked you why you’re here… you didn’t answer. Seokjin had just assumed Yoongi trusted him. He’d seemed to. Why else would he allow him to make predictions? To base his entire plan on the words of Seokjin? It was possible he was thinking too much into this. Yoongi had been sharing information with him for the sake of planning for weeks so perhaps he hadn’t thought anything of leaving the reports in front of him. But they’d just been talking about trust, about how people used information to their advantage, and it made the whole situation feel pointed. 

Seokjin let his eyes drift to Yoongi, who was listening impassively to the hyangni talking. If Yoongi hadn’t been testing him, had he been telling him something instead? Sighing quietly, Seokjin felt his brows crinkle just a bit. He couldn’t remember ever thinking this hard about whether or not someone trusted him or not, whether they were his friend or not. Perhaps this was the answer to one of those questions he’d ignored before: how do you befriend a prince? Carefully.

Chapter Text

One would think that, given Yoongi’s well, entire life, he’d like or at the very least not hate politics. That was very much not the case. Mostly because he’d never gotten involved in a political situation that wasn’t entirely based on personal issues.

Take the hyangni for example. Namjoon had done him the courtesy of warning him ahead of time about him. He wasn’t a bad man per se, but he was a mediocre one. The reason being that he wasn’t actually a hyangni. The town didn’t have an official in place. His father hadn’t thought it was necessary previously, which was also why there weren’t any encampments or even any real royal presence at all. 

Yoongi had wondered about that, before, but after talking to his father, he’d realized it was merely a symptom of a small town that had grown faster than expected without any plans for the future in place. The people of the town had compensated for that by putting someone in charge and, honestly, Yoongi had no issue with that. That’s why he’d allowed Namjoon to use his unofficial title and why he’d granted him the privilege of a private audience as he would someone that had been officially put in charge of an area. 

He was regretting that now.

“Explain that to me again,” Yoongi said simply, his voice flat and displeased.

The hyangni widened his hands. “I merely think the setting up of several military installations in the area is more than enough. There is no need to establish one so close to town.”

“That one,” Yoongi said slowly, pointing to the spot the hyangni was rejecting, “is not a military encampment. It is a communications hub and where I will be staying for now. It will remain as a spot for royalty and those appointed by us in the future.”

“As I said, the people of this town are uncomfortable with the idea,” the hyangni repeated, smiling in a way Yoongi was sure most people thought was charming.

Yoongi stood up slowly. “I’m afraid you’re under the impression your opinion matters. This meeting was merely a courtesy. A house in the area was already purchased by the king and it will be our communications hub whether you like it or not. If the people of this town have an issue with the work, I am doing to protect them while preventing a war from breaking out, have them come there and lodge a complaint formally. I promise to listen. Otherwise, this meeting is over.”

The hyangni slammed his mouth shut, displeasure radiating off him in waves. Yoongi ignored him and left the room. He didn’t wait for the attendant as he had before, instead just sweeping past her and heading back to his room, Namjoon and Seokjin following close behind. The second he was inside, he snapped his arm, flicking the edge of his robe out of the way and glared at Seokjin. “Seal this room. Like you’ve done before. For your own rooms.”

Seokjin hesitated a moment, unused to seeing Yoongi so upset, but a quick look at Namjoon told him this wasn’t a completely unique experience so he grabbed a few talismans from where he kept them in his pocket and applied them to the walls. “There.”

Yoongi nodded and took a deep breath before rounding on Namjoon. “You didn’t think to warn me that he was a power-hungry gremlin?!”

Namjoon winced. “I didn’t know. He was very helpful when I was here before.”

“Right. Probably to show he could handle it himself,” Yoongi muttered, the fabric of his robe swooshing aggressively as he spun away. “Give me predictions. How much pull does he have in town?”

“A lot,” Namjoon said honestly. “He owns two of the three local rice farms. He’s by far the wealthiest person in the area and the people have trusted him with their issues for years.”

“Fuck,” Yoongi snapped. “Alright, we’re going to issue a statement, reiterating what I told that asshole before he can spin it. Have it posted anywhere and everywhere, have some of the lower-level soldiers pass it out by hand if necessary. If the town is actually concerned, I want to hear it. Otherwise, I don’t have a problem having that man removed.”

Seokjin looked between them in question. “I don’t understand what’s happening here.”

Yoongi waved a hand without responding, only an angry sound leaving his lips. Namjoon picked up the slack. “The man we just met is the hyangni by the will of the people. He wasn’t installed here by the royal family nor is it a hereditary position. He doesn’t actually have any power.”

“Ah,” Seokjin murmured, finally understanding, “so he’s worried he’ll be pushed out if the royal family builds a larger presence here.”

“Exactly,” Namjoon confirmed. “That’s why he’s okay with the camps that are further away, since he does think they need protection, but not the one close, since it would, eventually, become home to the buyoon or moksa when the king chooses one. Normally, the king would promote a local to take the position in a case like this,” Namjoon broke off as Yoongi made another displeased sound from the table where he was writing something, “but isn’t required.”

“Wow, I hate politics,” Seokjin decided.

“Tell me about it,” Yoongi muttered. “Alright, Namjoon, have this sent to the commanders of each regiment, I want them to know what we’re doing. My head attendant is busy setting up the new place, but he’ll convert this into an official statement and circulate it.”

Namjoon took the parchment and rolled it up, stuffing it away in his sleeve. “I’ll do it now.  Best to get ahead of him as best we can.”

“Okay, thanks,” Yoongi said, relaxing an increment. “Seokjin, you can take the rest of the night off. We don’t have anything else to do until tomorrow anyway.”

“What are you going to do?” Seokjin asked, his eyes flicking to Namjoon as he slipped out of the room without another word.

“Take a hot bath,” Yoongi answered, barely thinking about it. “Wash the grit of that asshole’s selfishness off my skin. Fuck, I hate people like that,” Yoongi ranted, before taking another breath. “Sorry. You can go. Have a good night.”

Seokjin scanned his face then nodded. “I’ll tell the attendant to order you a bath.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi murmured, already heading back toward the table where Seokjin had seen him working before. He had a feeling Yoongi wasn’t going to relax like he said he would.

With that in mind, he bowed and left the room, telling the attendant to order Yoongi a bath before he made his way down to the main floor where there were tables and a bar set up for people staying at the inn to grab food and a drink. He ordered a drink for himself and sat down, turning his attention to the conversation around him. As he’d suspected, people were already talking about the encampments. For the most part, it was positive, it seemed people really had been worried, but there was an undercurrent there. A worry the royals would interfere with how they did things, would make things worse. Seokjin knew without asking that the hyangni had started that rumour. Sure, it was possible the people really thought that but given how Namjoon and Yoongi seemed to see the hyangni in the same way, he didn’t think so.

Dipping his finger in the wine he’d been given, Seokjin drew a quick circle on the table, filling the spaces with characters meant to clear the mind and put emphasis on the importance of recognition and protection. With a quick wave, his hand passed over the circle, causing it to light up briefly, then dissipate. It wasn’t an ideal spell, too hasty, and it wouldn’t influence people who didn’t already have similar thoughts, but he figured it couldn’t hurt.

“Hey, wouldn’t the second prince showing up here and establishing a royal house mean they’re, like, respecting us as a settlement worth attention?”

Success.

“I guess. At least it’d mean they’d pay closer attention if we needed help.”

“All those soldiers would help too. I heard he’s the one who planned where they would go.”

Seokjin raised a brow as he finished off his cup of wine. How could they possibly know that?

“Yea, that young kid was in here earlier? Can you believe he’s old enough to be a soldier? Didn’t look old enough to even carry a sword!”

“He’s not. He’s a runner. Dad’s the commander or something.”

“Huh. Having some connection to the royal family here might do us some good. The drought hurt my crops pretty…”

Deciding he didn’t want to eavesdrop any further—and satisfied he’d undone some of the hyangni’s rumours—Seokjin ordered another two bottles of wine and stood up, heading back to his room so he could drink alone and in peace. He did have the night off after all.

♔♔♔

As Yoongi let himself sink into the hot water of the tub, his hair flowing over the side to keep it from getting wet, he sighed, grumbling to himself a little bit. He hadn’t really planned on taking a bath right away nor had he expected Seokjin to actually order one for him. He had more reports to go over now that the camps were set up—or in the process of being so in the more rough terrains—but once the tub and water were here, he couldn’t just say no. It’d be a waste. So he let himself relax. Just a little.

It was easier said than done. Even surrounded by warm water mixed with some light-smelling oils, Yoongi’s mind wouldn’t quit spinning. He hadn’t anticipated pushback from the people of the town, especially since they were the ones who’d reached out in concern, and he really didn’t want to deal with someone willing to prioritize their own power over the literal lives of fellow community members. 

It was things like this that made Yoongi all the more happy he’d been born second. Perhaps if he’d been trained as the heir, he’d have more patience, more experience with being diplomatic, but he didn’t think his personality would be able to handle it regardless. He’d never understood how people could just not care. It was exhausting.

Sighing, Yoongi lowered himself even further into the water, strands of his hair slipping off the edge and falling into the water. He watched it float around him for a second, staring as if he wasn’t seeing it, then pinched a chunk between his fingers and lifted it up. The water weighed it down, making it droop over his fingers, but he barely noticed. 

That was a whole other thing. His hair. Why, suddenly, did his mother want to know more about it when nearly thirty years of not knowing had been fine with her? Why did Seokjin care if he was sure he wasn’t cursed? Why did Yoongi care? He never had before but now that he knew magic was real, he couldn’t stop wondering about it. Why him? What had the supposed blessing done? Why blonde?

Dropping the hair held in his hand, Yoongi gave up the battle of keeping most of his hair dry and dunked his head under the water, running his fingers through the stands harshly in an effort to tame it. He hadn’t brought a comb or anything to wash his hair with since he hadn’t planned on getting it wet so his fingers would have to do until he got out.

Yoongi lost himself in the somewhat laborious process, working his fingers through knots and tangles as he stared blankly in front of him. He’d have to meet with Namjoon again once he confirmed that the notices had been spread, perhaps meet with the hyangni again and see if he could pressure him into supporting them publicly, and find something for Seokjin to do.

Seokjin.

For the millionth time since Yoongi had first seen the man bathed in moonlight, his mind drifted to him. He’d pushed it away at first. He was a witch, or faking being a witch, so not worth his time. Now, however, he knew that wasn’t true and Seokjin was right back where he’d been before: front and goddamn center. He kept telling himself that it didn’t make sense to think about him so often since they barely even talked but that wasn’t true anymore either. They’d planned a whole defence strategy together; Seokjin had let him watch while he prepared spells; Seokjin called him Yoongichi; he spent time with the women in Yoongi’s life and they liked him; they’d travelled to the border together and Seokjin respected his authority even if he didn’t act the way most people did.

Why are you here?

Yoongi sighed and stopped fiddling with his hair, letting his head fall back over the edge of the tub so he could blink at the ceiling. Never in his entire life had the knowledge that someone was hiding information from him bothered him so much. That was par for the course in his world. Even the people he tentatively considered friends lied or hid things from him. Namjoon, the person he trusted the most in this world besides his brother, had refused to tell him what he was doing for his brother when he left. That was fine. 

And yet.

Why wouldn’t Seokjin tell him why he’d decided to stay at the palace? Why couldn’t he just answer his questions, even if the answer was simple and silly? The truth didn’t have to be serious, he just wanted to know. Why couldn’t he just tell him?'

Why did he have to be so fucking attractive?

Yoongi groaned at himself. His mind was like a circle. It always came back to Seokjin and it always came back to how attractive he was. Not for the first time, he lamented his own rule about sleeping with people involved in the royal court. If he could just be with him… kiss him maybe… that would help, wouldn’t it? Sex had always had a way of clearing his mind and he was sure Seokjin would be through. He was old enough to have the experience.

Without even being really conscious of it, Yoongi’s hand moved to his stomach, his fingers tentatively moving over the soft skin there. He jumped at the feeling of his own fingers, surprised and a little embarrassed. 

No one can see you, it’s fine. Seokjin put up talismans anyway.

Seokjin.

Letting go of what little willpower he had, Yoongi let his hand move further down, he avoided his dick, still not quite ready to go that far, and ghosted light touches over his thighs. It’d been… too long since he’d done something like this and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a specific person in mind. Usually, it was just a faceless soldier he’d seen practicing forms or a merchant he’d seen lifting rice when he’d passed through town. They were people, sure, but not in the way Seokjin was. He didn’t know what their lips looked like smiling. Didn’t know what their voices sound like happy, angry, teasing, flirty. Didn’t know what the calluses on their fingers felt like.

Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut, finally passing his palm over himself and pressing down. His lips fell open in a silent moan as he wrapped his fingers around his dick and stocked lazily. Seokjin didn’t do anything quickly, he loved to tease, so Yoongi refused to move quickly. If he was doing this, he was going to do it properly. He knew the shame would prevent him from doing it ever again, knew the second he came that he’d regret ever allowing his hand to close around his cock, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at this very moment. He just wanted a little bit of what he was never going to allow himself to have.

Shuddering, Yoongi’s hand moved faster, picking up the pace against his will. He bit his lips, hoping to muffle some of the sounds he knew would echo throughout the room, but even as he did that, he realized it was pointless. Seokjin had sealed the room. It was okay.

“Ahh…” Yoongi let out, almost tentatively. He’d never really been able to be loud before—there was always someone around at the palace—but now… maybe he could be. What would he say if he was allowed to speak? To beg? When he didn’t have to cover his own mouth and muffle the sounds? Would Seokjin want him to call him hyung?

Yoongi’s hand tensed around his cock, ripping a harsh moan from his lips. “Hyung… please…”

The second those words left his mouth, Yoongi felt his eyes roll back. Yes, he liked that. He’d never been with anyone he could address so informally. Even in the middle of sex, in the middle of him riding some random man’s dick, they’d used his title like they were afraid to say anything else. If he was with Seokjin, he wouldn’t use it. He never did in the first place so why would he if they fucked. Would Seokjin like it too? Would he smile, tease him? 

Yes, Yoongichi? What do you need?

Forgetting his desire to drag this moment out, Yoongi dropped his other hand into the water, removing it from where it’d been gripping the edge of the tub harshly, and cupped his balls. He focused on nothing else but the feeling of his own hands on his body, on the image of Seokjin teasing him that he’d conjured in his mind, and then he thought of nothing at all.

He was fairly sure his vision had whited out. One second he was tense, hunched over, and the next he was shaking, garbled sounds escaping his lips as he stroked himself through completion. 

So good, Yoongichi.

“Fuck,” Yoongi mumbled to himself, his hazy mind already clearing as he stared down at the now obviously dirty water around him. He practically leapt from the tub, stumbling naked towards the screen where he’d hung a light robe for him to put on after he’d bathed. He stared at the water in horror. How was he going to fix this? The attendants would know.

Somewhat frantically, Yoongi grabbed another one of his robes, one he’d worn for the journey and dunked it into the water, trying to remove some of his cum from the surface. It was… not very effective. Yoongi made a distress sound, knowing wiping water was stupid but not knowing what else to do.

He was still lamenting pretty much all his choices when the talisman Seokjin had left at the door lit up, telling him someone was here. Grabbing another robe to cover himself and make him more presentable, Yoongi took a moment to pull himself together before pushing the screen more fully in front of the tub and going to the door. He slid it open slowly, his eyes widening when he saw Seokjin on the other side.

“Yoongichi! You better have been relaxing.”

♔♔♔

Seokjin didn’t even manage to open the first bottle of wine he’d purchased before he got bored of his own company. It was odd considering he’d spent so many years almost entirely alone. Witches were solitary by nature, often only living together when travelling or when they took on an apprentice. Since Seokjin had never done the latter, most of his experience with spending extended periods of time around people had been when travelling.

But his time at the palace was different and it’d had an effect on him. One he hadn’t even noticed was happening until he found himself alone. There were always people around the palace so he was never truly alone. Besides that, he often spent his days meeting with people who wanted minor spell work, having tea with the queen—or the princess as she was now quite fond of him, as she should be—and meeting with Yoongi to go over their plans. He was constantly either being entertained or doing the entertaining. He’d always considered himself rather private and reserved, preferring his own company, but that didn’t appear to be true anymore.

Picking up the wine bottle, Seokjin considered drinking it, as he’d planned, but for some reason, he didn’t open it. Would Yoongi be relaxing alone too? Or would he be working again? Seokjin had made sure to order a bath so Yoongi couldn’t go back to work immediately but it’d been nearly an hour so Seokjin was sure he was already back to bending over the table and going over reports.

Making a split-second decision, one he wasn’t even aware he’d made the second he’d ordered two bottles rather than one, Seokjin left his room and headed for Yoongi’s. He’d only just closed his door when he heard a loud moan. He glanced around automatically as if he’d see the couple fucking in the hallway and shrugged. He knew Yoongi’s guards were in the other rooms on this floor and he wouldn’t begrudge them for having a little fun when the prince had decided to remain at the inn rather than going about the town. Even if, perhaps, they were a little loud.

Continuing down the hallway, Seokjin couldn’t help but look around, wondering if he could identify which guard it was—maybe he was a little nosy—but he didn’t hear any more moans so he gave up. Instead, he just moved to the front of Yoongi’s door and waited, knowing the talisman would alert Yoongi to his presence.

A few minutes passed, longer than Seokjin had expected, and then the door opened revealing a hastily dressed and tantalizingly wet and flushed Yoongi, looking at him with wide eyes. He’d taken the bath after all and lingered too! Seokjin was glad to know he’d relaxed, even just a bit. That didn’t stop him from teasing though. “Yoongichi! You better have been relaxing.”

Yoongi’s flushed cheeks darkened. “I took a bath. Why are you here?”

Seokjin lifted the hand carrying the two wine bottles. “You once told me you sometimes had drinks with friends. How about it?”

For a moment, Yoongi blinked at him blankly. It was long enough that Seokjin worried he’d somehow misjudged the situation though he wasn’t sure how he would have. But eventually, Yoongi nodded. “Yes, sure. That’d be nice. I just… need to get dressed.”

“Of course,” Seokjin said, stepping inside as Yoongi moved out of the way. “Take your time.”

Yoongi gave him a long, unreadable look, then disappeared behind the screen. Seokjin could smell the scented water of the bath, feel the warmth from the water in the air, and smiled to himself as he took a seat at the table. Maybe he’d order one tomorrow.

Sometime later, Yoongi reappeared. He wasn’t dressed as formally as he’d been before but the robes that he wore still reeked of money in a way Seokjin wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to. They did look comfortable though. “Can I pour for you?”

Humming in agreement, Yoongi went to his trunk and pulled out a comb, a small pout forming on his lips as he tried to work it through his knotted hair. Seokjin glanced up as he finished filling Yoongi’s cup and started to fill his own, watching the shiny black wood of the comb reflect the light as it moved through Yoongi’s hair. 

This felt… oddly domestic. 

Seokjin tore his eyes away from Yoongi and focused on the task at hand, listening as Yoongi moved to the door and asked the ever-present attendant to have someone come and remove the tub and water before he returned to the table and took a seat across from Seokjin.

“I had thought you’d want to spend your night doing something more enjoyable than spending time with me,” Yoongi commented dryly as he picked up his cup and took a sip. “This is quite good.”

“Local rice wine,” Seokjin explained, “and I find spending time with you quite enjoyable. Why else would I ask to be friends?”

Yoongi made an odd noise. “Yes, why else.”

Seokjin wasn’t entirely sure what that sound meant. He was sure Namjoon would, like he’d known when Yoongi started making noises earlier, and that thought made him bitter. Suddenly he wanted to know more about Yoongi’s friends, about how they’d gotten to know him so well. “So, I asked about Jungkook.”

“Uh-huh…” Yoongi said slowly, not sure why Seokjin was suddenly bringing up Jungkook when they’d been talking about something entirely different.

“And you mentioned there were a few men you’ve known your entire life, or most of it,” Seokjin prompted.

“Yes…” Yoongi confirmed, still lost.

“I’m assuming Jimin is one of them?” Seokjin asked.

Yoongi furrowed his brow. “Yes, though I didn’t grow close to him until later. His father lived at the palace with his wife when we were younger but, as I’m sure you can guess, he doesn’t approve of me and my brother, so Jimin wasn’t allowed to spend time with us. Especially after he developed what his father saw as ‘soft’ hobbies.”

“The flowers.”

“Exactly,” Yoongi confirmed, “but we went into martial training at the same time so there was nothing he could do about it.”

Seokjin titled his head. “You’re a few years older than him, are you not?”

“Two. But his dad wanted him to start early. Toughen him up or some nonsense. I ended up in the same class as all the people I would now consider… friends.”

“Why do you hesitate when you say that?” Seokjin wondered. “They are very clearly people you trust and are close to. Why not just say they’re friends?”

Yoongi took a drink of the wine, frowning slightly when he realized his cup was empty, and set it down. “It’s complicated.”

“I have time,” Seokjin said, refilling Yoongi’s cup for him.

“Thank you,” Yoongi murmured with a small sigh. Why did he not call them his friends? He thought of them that way, most of the time at least, but every so often the idea grated on him, made him hesitant. He knew why, of course, but how was he supposed to explain the ever-present possibility of betrayal to someone who simply didn’t grow up with that experience? “You are aware my father and uncle fought a war over the crown?”

“Of course,” Seokjin agreed.

Yoongi nodded, his words slow and measured. “One would think that family, that blood relation, would be the least likely to betray you. I’ve grown up in a palace surrounded by the survivors of war who know that’s nowhere near true. Living like that… makes it hard to trust in absolutes. I know, without a doubt, that Namjoon would die for me. He wouldn’t even think about it before he did so, even if I begged him not to, but… that can change. It would be… unwise for me to assume that, just because I consider these men my friends, they feel the same.”

Seokjin beat down the bitterness that threatened to rise again at the mention of Namjoon’s name. “That’s a sad way to live, Yoongichi.”

“Perhaps,” Yoongi admitted, “but it does mean no one will disappoint me.”

“Life needs disappointment sometimes,” Seokjin said.

“Perhaps,” Yoongi said again. 

Seokjin wanted to ask more, to dig into Yoongi’s relationships and find out how he classified friendships in greater detail—it was purely selfish—how was he supposed to be his friend if he didn’t know how?—but he held himself back. If he couldn’t get information from Yoongi, maybe the right way was to give information to Yoongi. “You asked before, and today, why I’m here.”

Yoongi’s eyes snapped up, wariness clear in their depths. His hair was drying haphazardly on his shoulders now, frizzing around his face, and it made him look much younger than he was. It made Seokjin soften even more than he already had. “The answer isn’t as complex as you might think.”

“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” Yoongi said simply. “It just has to be the truth.”

Nodding, Seokjin refilled their cups, barely even aware they’d finished them yet again. “The answer is that I don’t know.”

“You don’t… know,” Yoongi repeated.

“Yes,” Seokjin confirmed. “I don’t know why I came back to the city when I did, nor why, when the queen approached me, I said yes. I could guess at my reasoning, of course. I do really like your mother. She’s lovely and fun to talk to and, when she wants to be, absolutely terrifying in her authority. She wasn’t about to take no for an answer in the first place. But I’m a witch, a very powerful one, I could have disappeared. Instead, I said yes. I don’t know why.”

Yoongi scanned his face. “Where were you before this?”

“Further east. I’ve been travelling for the past few decades. That’s why I wasn’t aware of the war between your family members or even that you were cursed. But, sometime last year, I suddenly felt the desire to return home, so I did. I’d only been here a few months when your mother found me.”

“What’s that like? Just… travelling?” Yoongi wondered, a somewhat longing expression appearing on his face. 

Seokjin glanced down at the wine bottle, finding the first one empty, and opened the second so he could once again refill their cups. “It was freeing, for a while. It’s nice seeing the world and being in places where no one knows you or expects something of you. But,” Seokjin hesitated, thinking of his thoughts earlier in the quietness of his own room, “it can be lonely too. I… find I much prefer the constant bustle of the palace. Who knew?”

Yoongi tilted his head. “Do you really? Don’t you find it… constraining? You can’t do your spells where you want and you have to go buy supplies when you could grow them before.”

“That’s not ideal,” Seokjin admitted, “but it does give me an excuse to visit a friend I’ve been neglecting all these years and spells can be performed anywhere. In fact, I did one earlier in the middle of the first floor of the inn! It’s easy.”

“What?!” Yoongi snapped, sitting up. “Why?!”

Seokjin waved a hand. “Just to make sure people were thinking clearly and not influenced by gossip. Nothing too major. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. No work talk! This is friend talk!”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Yoongi’s lips, his eyes flicking to Seokjin’s and away. Perhaps he was about to say something but the talisman on the door lit up again and Yoongi moved to it without a word. “Yes?”

“I’m here to remove the bath.”

“Ah,” Yoongi murmured, opening the door wider. Seokjin watched them come in and start draining the tub for easier transfer. It was a quick process, but Seokjin couldn’t help but notice that Yoongi was standing off to the side, staring right ahead. It looked like he was blushing, but Seokjin couldn’t imagine why. It was just a bathtub.

The servants bowed before they hauled the tub and dirty water out, once again leaving Seokjin and Yoongi alone in the room. Seokjin tilted his head. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Yoongi answered at once.

Seokjin narrowed his eyes, wondering what about the bathtub had embarrassed Yoongi so much, but decided not to push it. They were having a nice evening and he didn’t want to ruin it. “Did you have any more questions for me?”

Yoongi glanced at him. “Why?”

“Why what?”

Moving back to his seat, Yoongi tapped his finger on the once again empty cup. “Why are you suddenly willing to answer all my questions? What changed?”

Seokjin figured another ‘I don’t know’ answer wasn’t going to be enough. Plus, he did know. “I want you to trust me.”

“I do,” Yoongi said immediately.

Shaking his head, Seokjin smiled a bit. “You trust my predictions, my magic, but I want you to trust me. As a person.”

Yoongi raised a brow. “Why?”

“I already told you. I want to be your friend, Yoongi.”

Surprised by the use of his name, Yoongi’s head snapped up. It wasn’t a nickname said with a teasing lilt, nor a formal use of his title, just… his name. “I… okay.”

“Okay?” Seokjin repeated.

“Yea, okay,” Yoongi agreed, clearing his throat. “I… don’t really have any more questions right now.”

Seokjin doubted that very much considering the onslaught of questions Yoongi had levelled on him previously, but he only nodded. “I’ll be here to answer them when you do.”

“Okay.”

“So,” Seokjin said slowly, giving in to his own curiosity and that pesky feeling of bitterness, “you and Namjoon.”

Yoongi frowned. “What about us?”

“Are you…” Seokjin trailed off, waving his hand as he finished off another cup of wine.

“Why do you always ask that?” Yoongi asked, eyes wide and somewhat horrified. “Namjoon is my friend.”

Seokjin didn’t bother to point out the irony of that clarification given his previous explanation of the complicated nature of his perception of friends. Yoongi had had one too many cups of wine for nuance. “And? You can’t sleep with friends? Wouldn’t that just make it better? Someone who knows you can give you what you want or need better than a stranger.”

For some reason that Seokjin didn’t understand, that made Yoongi blush deeply. “We are not talking about this.”

Laughing in spite of that bitter feeling swelling to a point that he had to acknowledge it was jealousy, Seokjin teased, “So that’s a yes?”

“No, it’s a no! I don’t,” Yoongi broke off, stopping himself from reiterating that he didn’t sleep with people close to the royal court. For some reason, in the wine softened part of his brain, he couldn’t bring himself to say that, to ruin whatever non-existent chance he had. “We’ve never been like that. He’s like my brother.”

Seokjin hummed, the pleasure he felt hearing that more clear on his face than it really should be. Maybe he’d drank too much too. “That’s good.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened and met Seokjin’s in surprise. It… was? What did that mean? Maybe Seokjin meant because they worked together a lot? Right. That would make more sense. “It is.”

Though he tended not to hold eye contact unless he wanted something, this time, Yoongi didn’t look away. He just stared at Seokjin, waiting for his response. The problem was, Seokjin didn’t have one. What the hell was he supposed to say? He’d come here to get to know Yoongi better, to make a move towards a real, tangible friendship. This was… not that. The whole room suddenly felt heavy, like he was missing something, and it made his mouth run dry. 

Clearing his throat, Seokjin reached for the bottle again, finding it empty. He blinked at it in surprise. Had they really drank two whole bottles? Maybe that explained his mood, his feelings, this odd jealousy over someone who’d been nothing but nice to him and clearly supported Yoongi when he needed it. Seokjin smiled sheepishly. “Looks like we’re out of wine.”

“Oh,” Yoongi murmured, finally looking away. “I guess we should call it a night. We have tours and more godforsaken politics to deal with in the morning.”

“We do,” Seokjin agreed. “Are we moving to the new residence tomorrow?”

Yoongi nodded. “Yes. My attendant sent word it would be ready by the time we finish touring the camps.”

“Are they set up already?” Seokjin asked, impressed.

“For the most part. Military camps are meant to go up quickly. If they end up staying permanently, as I’d like them to, they’ll have to build more infrastructure, but for now, they should be ready for normal use.”

Seokjin nodded, and pushed himself up, clearing his throat again as Yoongi watched him. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You will,” Yoongi agreed. He didn’t move to escort him out or say anything more. He simply watched as Seokjin left the room, his eyes fixed on him until the door closed, hiding Seokjin from view. Seokjin took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He needed to think, to process, but he’d do that tomorrow. 

A future Seokjin problem.

Chapter Text

Namjoon had known the Royal Prince, Min Yoongi, Second Son of the Great King Min Byungho, since before he could walk. Since the only part of his name that he could pronounce properly was the ‘gi’ at the end so he’d called him that while people around them gasped in shock and horror. Since Yoongi realized kissing men was so much better than kissing women. Since before comments about his hair had stopped bothering him. Since, since, since. He’d known Yoongi, he knew Yoongi.

Which was why, the second he’d seen Yoongi interact with the court witch, every instinct in his head perked up. This one, they said, is different. Namjoon had seen Yoongi through what no one but him would term ‘relationships.’ These were when, essentially, Yoongi found a guy he liked and kept him around for a bit in secret. He usually chose men he knew would be leaving soon, sent away to far-off places, like he knew that was the safest for him. Namjoon tended to think it was an emotional thing, a wall he’d built up, but given his position and sexuality, he couldn’t fault him.

Which was why, again, Namjoon saw the difference. He didn’t think anyone else would, other than maybe his brother—and mother, but she’d been missing the large sign revealing Yoongi’s sexuality for over a decade so maybe not—but to him it was obvious. For one, Yoongi actually talked to him. Yoongi had a tendency to remain quiet, to listen first and only talk if absolutely necessary—this was likely a habit born from being the person with the third most important opinion in any given room—but he didn’t do that with Seokjin. He engaged with him, carried on conversations, hinted at and brought up previous conversations. Namjoon himself usually ended up just rambling until Yoongi added in his opinion or observation.

Then there was the touching. People didn’t touch Yoongi. He was royalty, of course they didn’t. Seokjin did though. It was so casual that he honestly didn’t even think either of them noticed but Namjoon did. First in the carriage when Yoongi turned to Seokjin and tapped his arm while asking a question, then in the rooms when he’d wanted Seokjin to set up the magic spell of silence or whatever he’d done to ensure their privacy. Seokjin touched Yoongi more than anyone else other than Jimin and that had more to do with Jimin’s sheer determination to needle Yoongi in any way he could. So, that was unusual too.

Then the fucking nickname. Namjoon didn’t even know where to start with that, but it was a lot. He knew the princess used it, but to have some random witch that had only known Yoongi for a few months call him Yoongichi was flabbergasting at best, horrifying at worst. The fact Yoongi seemed to like it was the only reason Namjoon hadn’t had the witch dragged away by force.

And now there was the reason for Yoongi’s apparent hangover. It was subtle but Namjoon could see the way Yoongi’s eyes narrowed when the sun glinted off a sword just a bit too brightly or the soldiers greeted him just a tad too loudly. It was a little funny, honestly, Yoongi rarely drank in excess but when he did, he paid for it. Namjoon didn’t care about the drinking, it was the drinking with whom. He had, admittedly, been a bit concerned about the possibility of Yoongi drinking alone, but once he found out he’d been drinking with Seokjin, a whole new host of questions arose. Most of which remained unanswered.

At least until he managed to get the prince alone. “So… you spent the night drinking with the witch?”

Yoongi shot him a look. He was standing just inside the entrance to the residence they’d acquired. Servants were carrying in their things after they’d transferred them from the inn and putting them in appropriate rooms. Seokjin had made an odd squeaking noise when he’d seen one of his trunks carried in and ran off. Namjoon could only assume it was magic-related. Regardless, they were mostly alone now, only guards lingering in the courtyard around them, so he was taking his chance to ask.

“Not the whole night. He showed up after I bathed and we had a bottle or two of some local rice wine he’d purchased. It was good,” Yoongi explained, his eyes casually observing the movements of his staff.

“Uh-huh,” Namjoon murmured, unsure how to broach this topic. He wanted to be subtle, but he knew Yoongi well enough to know he’d just avoid the topic all together. “What’s the deal with you two? Are you..?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “You know he asked me the same thing about you?”

“You’re not my type,” Namjoon answered easily.

“Neither are you mine,” Yoongi returned.

Namjoon raised a brow. “That’s just patently untrue. I’m attractive, double your size, and strong. That’s literally your brand.”

Yoongi huffed. “It is not.”

“Uh-huh,” Namjoon said again, this time his tone teasing. “So you’re not?”

“No,” Yoongi said quickly. “You know my rules.”

Namjoon nodded. “I do.”

“So why ask then?’ Yoongi wondered. It was clear he was trying for a casual tone, but it slipped at the end, like he was looking for something.

“You’re different with him,” Namjoon settled on, feeling like that was the most accurate summary of what he’d witnessed as possible without getting into the details. That and: “You seem to enjoy his company.”

“I enjoy your company,” Yoongi reminded him.

Ah, deflection. “True, but as we’ve established, I’m not your type, right?”

Yoongi frowned, the expression leaning far closer to a pout than a prince should be making in public. “Why are you asking me this?”

Namjoon sighed. That was the question, wasn’t it? “You’re my friend, hyung. I… like the you that I see when you talk to him. I think, if you let yourself, you could finally find someone that matches you.”

“‘Matches me’?” Yoongi repeated, furrowing his brows.

“Yes,” Namjoon confirmed, not wanting to go too far into it lest Yoongi push back against the idea. “Plus, he’s probably the only person in your world that’s immune to politics.”

Yoongi blinked, a small laugh leaving his mouth. “I… hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“Maybe you should,” Namjoon advised.

“I… may have… thought about it,” Yoongi admitted quietly, his cheeks darkening in a way that told Namjoon way more than he needed to know, “but it’s not like he—”

“Yoon— Your Highness!”

Namjoon snorted. “Speak of him and he shall appear.”

Yoongi shot him a look then turned toward the sound of Seokjin’s voice just in time to see him burst out of the front door, heedless of the servants moving in and out. “Yes?”

“There’s a garden here! In the back! A garden!” Seokjin practically yelled as he came closer.

“Yes? I’m told that’s common here,” Yoongi confirmed.

“Can I use it!?” Seokjin asked, putting his hands together and rubbing as he bowed quickly up and down. It was easily the most informal action Namjoon had ever seen someone make towards Yoongi, especially in a public setting.

Yoongi didn’t notice.

“Why— oh. Can you use it for your supplies? Will it work?” Yoongi asked, moving closer and touching Seokjin’s arm to lift him from his bow.

“I think so! I did a quick walkthrough and it’s well maintained and the energy is really good. Nearby, there must be some— doesn’t matter. I think it could be really good,” Seokjin rushed out.

“Then use it,” Yoongi ordered. “I’ll let the servants know to leave it alone. It’s yours. I was wondering what to have you do while we were here anyway. This way, you have an important task.”

Seokjin smiled then hesitated. “I can still accompany you on your duties. That’s what I’m here for.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “You’re here to protect me, as I’m sure you’re aware, and the supplies will help with that, right?”

“Yes,” Seokjin admitted.

“Then you’re doing your job,” Yoongi said with a shrug, his eyes drifting past Seokjin to his head attendant, who’d just come into the courtyard. “Attendant Cho, come here.”

The man moved quickly to Yoongi’s side, bowing before meeting his eyes. “What can I do for you?”

“The court witch will need to take control of the garden in order to appropriately prepare for the orders my father has given him. Have the area sealed off to everyone but him.”

Attendant Cho bowed again. “I’ll go spread the word now while everyone is on the premises.”

“Do that,” Yoongi said, dismissing him before looking back to Seokjin. “The space is yours.”

Seokjin grabbed Yoongi’s hand and squeezed, bouncing a little. “Thank you.”

“No need,” Yoongi denied, waving the thanks away. “Not like we’d have made use of the gardens anyway. This way, they have a purpose.”

“Can I see it?” Namjoon asked, interrupting them.

Seokjin looked at him in curiosity. “You… want to see the garden?”

“I like plants,” Namjoon admitted.

Yoongi snorted. “Understatement. Namjoon has a little tree nearly as old as he is. He tends to it very diligently. He trusts only his sister to take care of it when he is away.”

That made Seokjin smile. “Then come with me! I’ll be doing some… reworking after this so if you want to see it as is, now would be the time.”

Namjoon looked to Yoongi for permission. “Do we have time?”

“Yes, the hyangni won’t arrive for another few hours.”

“Then lead the way,” Namjoon said with an easy smile.

Seokjin eyed him for a moment then nodded and did as asked, heading toward the back of the residence to what seemed to have been, at one time, a secondary courtyard but was now an elaborate garden. Someone had cared for the space a great deal, that much was obvious. There were flowers and trees around the edges, and, in the middle, well-manicured lines of herbs and vegetables. Seokjin moved to one of the rows and knelt down. “Many of these are used in spell work. If I didn’t know better, I’d think a witch lived here.”

“How do you know there wasn’t?”

“Residue,” Seokjin said briefly. “Like what I was tracing with the prince’s hair. We leave it anywhere we practice magic. When I noticed the herbs, I checked. No witch lived here.”

“Interesting,” Namjoon murmured, looking around.

“But that’s not why you wanted to come here,” Seokjin said knowingly.

“No, it’s not,” Namjoon admitted. “Though I’m glad I did. This place is beautiful.”

Seokjin hummed in agreement but didn’t move from where he’d crouched down. “I’m assuming the reason you wanted to talk to me privately was the same reason you wanted to speak to the prince.”

Namjoon raised a brow at Seokjin’s repeated use of Yoongi’s title rather than his name or the nickname but didn’t comment on it. “It is. More or less.”

“Okay, well, get to it,” Seokjin ordered, pushing himself up.

Pausing a moment, Namjoon put his hands behind his back and met Seokjin’s gaze head-on. “If you’re not going to stick around, leave hyung alone.”

That clearly hadn’t been what Seokjin was expecting so he just blinked in shock. “What?”

“He told me you were trying to be his friend and I think— I think you’re looking for more,” Seokjin made a sound, but Namjoon ignored him, “and if you’re not going to stay, don’t do either. Hyung doesn’t need any more people who use him or his position when it’s convenient, only to leave when it’s not.”

Seokjin’s mouth opened then closed it. “I understand.”

“Good,” Namjoon said with a nod. “Thank you for showing me your garden.”

“Sure,” Seokjin replied somewhat weakly even as Namjoon had already turned to leave. Neither of the conversations he’d wanted to have today had gone the way he’d intended but he did feel like he’d accomplished something. He felt that, when he left tomorrow, Yoongi would know what or how he wanted to move forward, and Seokjin would know if he wanted Yoongi to do that. It could be worse.

♔♔♔

In the months that Seokjin had known Yoongi, he’d never seen him particularly angry. Irritated, even upset, at the general and his words, sure, but never outright angry. The first time had been the night before when they’d left the meeting with the hyangni and the second was now. As it turned out, Yoongi’s trigger might just be this man specifically. The name of whom, Seokjin realized, he didn’t know. No one had used it. He was referred to and referred to himself solely by his adopted title. If that didn’t tell Seokjin all he needed to know about this man’s self-worth, he didn’t know what would.

“I believe,” Yoongi said slowly, irritation creeping into his voice, “that I made myself clear. The people will not be forwarding their complaints through you. They will be doing it to my people. All complaints through you that are not from you will be disregarded.”

“The people are frightened of royalty, Your Highness,” the hyangni explained with false sympathy. “They are much more comfortable talking to me.”

Yoongi blinked slowly, his eyes staying closed longer than necessary, then, when he opened them, he spoke again, his tone hard and unforgiving. “If the citizens of this town cannot follow a simple order bestowed upon them by their prince then their complaints will not be heard. I do not know how you think governments run but this is the reality. Either you start to follow the path I have set forth under the orders of the king and crown prince or you will be replaced. Do I make myself clear?”

The hyangni straightened, his face hardening. “You cannot replace a position that was never given in the first place.”

“Watch me,” Yoongi practically hissed. “Guard? Escort him out. Immediately.”

“Your Highness,” the guard returned, moving to the hyangni’s side and lifting him up.

The second they were near the door, Yoongi turned his head. Seokjin saw his face and, for the first time, feared the power Yoongi wielded. “Also, hyangni, do not forget that slander and talking ill of the royal family is considered treason. I’m sure you’re aware, at least, of the punishment for that?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” the hyangni replied, not turning back to him. It was disrespectful, so much so that even Seokjin was thrown off by it, but Yoongi merely waved a hand and the guard all but dragged him out.

The second he was gone, Yoongi rubbed his face. “I hate that man.”

“No, really?” Namjoon sighed out. “I didn’t get that. Was that clear in the way you threatened him? Or, how about in the way you threatened him?”

Yoongi met his gaze, not flinching from the judgment in Namjoon’s tone. “He was never going to respect me or my orders. The rumours he’s spread have already started to circulate. Our announcement only stemmed the tide and Seokjin can only cast so many spells.”

Namjoon blinked, momentarily distracted. “Spells?”

“Nothing major,” Seokjin assured him. “It was a simple thing to clear the mind and reduce the influence of gossip. It only works if the person is already thinking something, so it merely strengthens the voices of those who agree with us or are suspicious of the hyangni’s motives. Its reach is limited though. If someone is inundated with negative gossip, my spell can’t stand up to that. I may have drawn it in wine.”

“Wine— never mind,” Namjoon stopped himself, his fingers pressing harshly into his eyes. “Hyung, I have to leave tomorrow. You can’t stir up a revolt—”

“Nonsense,” Yoongi interrupted. “Don’t be dramatic. One man isn’t a revolt. Plus, are you forgetting the three military camps I currently have within distance? I’m safe without you here, Namjoon. Don’t worry.”

“Hyung…”

“Namjoon,” Yoongi said softly, leaning forward with a somewhat defeated expression. “I need to do this. I can’t have a hyangni disrespect me. He’s only doing it because he thinks I don’t have the power or authority to oppose him. I can’t let an official, any official, think that. I don’t like talking to him that way, threatening him that way, but if he won’t listen, if he keeps prioritizing his own position and power, I can’t just let him.”

Namjoon sighed. “I just wish I could stay. Maybe I can write to the crown prince…”

“I am fine,” Yoongi insisted. “I have three military encampments and a witch. What could go wrong?”

“Please don’t say that,” Namjoon whined, covering his face. “That just means something very bad is going to go wrong.”

Yoongi laughed, the sound a little tired. “Yea, you’re right. But regardless, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ll write every day if that’d make you feel better.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Namjoon muttered into his hands.

Patting him on the head, Yoongi stood. “I’m going to return to my chambers and go over the reports from the camps again. Tomorrow, we can go to the outpost on the border before you leave Namjoon.”

“Fine,” Namjoon agreed, though he still didn’t sound happy.

Seokjin watched the exchange quietly. Politics wasn’t his area, but he was glad he was here. If for no reason other than knowing what was going on. And so he could say, once he and Namjoon were alone in the room together: “I’ll watch over him.”

“Can you?” Namjoon wondered quietly.

“That is not the purpose of my magic, but I will do my best,” Seokjin promised.

Namjoon scanned his face then nodded. “Then that will have to do.”

♔♔♔

Yoongi was not fond of large outbursts, especially not of negative emotion. He felt like it was always a bad idea since people often regretted what they said but, for him, in his position, it had all the more impact. He knew to watch his tongue, to be careful how he spoke and to whom. He didn’t regret how he’d treated the hyangni but the judgment in Namjoon’s words had grated on him. He knew he’d done the right thing and he’d explained that but to have his friend criticize that, worry about the ramifications of his words, made him antsy.

He spent most of the evening going over reports and drafting replies to the three encampments. All three were ready and had already restarted the normal routines they’d maintained at the palace. The closest one had received a few requests from local farmers and townspeople for training or recruitment. Yoongi wasn’t opposed to having more locals involved, it would actually help if things went south, but he had to be cautious. He had no way of knowing if those who’d asked were working for the hyangni. He wasn’t entirely sure what he could accomplish if those people were, but Yoongi was starting to realize the hyangni might not be all that strategically gifted, so anything was possible. Regardless, he gave the camps permission to recruit if they wanted but warned of the possibilities of spies since he’d briefed them on the situation when he’d toured that morning.

The issue, however, was that, since they’d only been there for a day, there wasn’t all that much to report. Making sure the camps were properly situated had not taken up that much time that morning and Namjoon’s tour of his earlier investigation—as per the general’s request—hadn’t taken long either. The area was small and easily covered by horse. The only place they hadn’t gone was the outpost and that was only because it was the furthest away and they’d go tomorrow.

Which meant he was now duty and task-free. He now had nothing to distract himself from the irritation still simmering under his skin. He found himself leaving his rooms without even thinking, ignoring the questioning eyes of servants and attendants as they went about their own duties.

It wasn’t until he arrived at the door that led outside to the garden that he realized where he’d been headed. He hesitated at the door, his fingers hovering over the handle. He’d told Seokjin no one would go into this area, but would he mind if it was Yoongi? They’d seemed to settle into an even easier report after drinking together so Yoongi wanted to think it was okay, but he wasn’t sure.

Tapping the door like it would give him all the answers he needed, Yoongi flinched back when it opened. It was just a crack, but it was enough that Yoongi could now see inside. He took a breath and pushed the door open further, his eyes roaming the area the second he stepped outside. He spotted Seokjin sitting in the middle of what appeared to be a pathway, his eyes closed and the ground glowing around him. More than familiar with this image by now, Yoongi walked to the edge of the porch and sat down, watching Seokjin quietly.

Yoongi wasn’t sure how much time passed but the night around them grew darker and the bugs in the garden grew louder. It was comforting in a way Yoongi wasn’t familiar with. He’d visited Jimin’s garden before, but it didn’t have the same feel.

Eventually, the light around Seokjin dimmed and his posture relaxed, telling Yoongi the spell was done. “What were you doing?”

Seokjin startled, his head whipping around. “Yoongichi? How— did the door open again?”

“Yes,” Yoongi confirmed. “Was it sealed?”

“Yes,” Seokjin echoed, frowning. “I really do need to figure out why that spell doesn’t work for you.”

Yoongi shrugged. “Maybe I’m just special.”

Seokjin hummed, smiling slightly. “Maybe.”

“So, what were you working on?” Yoongi reiterated.

“Oh, I was redirecting some of the energy so I could grow magical herbs here too.”

Raising his brows in interest, Yoongi’s gaze moved over the garden. “That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“The feeling of this place. It feels… comfortable, I suppose,” Yoongi settled on, not knowing how to explain what he’d felt when he walked in.

Seokjin tilted his head. “You feel that?”

Something in his tone made Yoongi return his gaze to Seokjin. “Am I not supposed to?”

“No,” Seokjin denied, “but that’s the general aura of the place. Just surprised you can tell is all. It’s what drew me to the place initially. I like it here.”

“It is nice,” Yoongi agreed.

Seokjin smiled and leaned back on his hands. “Come sit with me?”

“Where?”

“On the ground,” Seokjin explained, gesturing to the path around him. “I know you can. You sat in the courtyard when I made my predictions.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “What I can do and what I want to do are different things.”

Seokjin smiled teasingly. “What? You don’t want to sit beside me?

Once again, something in his tone made Yoongi look at him in question. He didn’t see an answer, not that he was entirely sure what the question was, but he nodded anyway, pushing himself up off the porch so he could move to Seokjin’s side. He took a seat in the space just beside him, his eyes drifting around so he could take in the garden from this new angle. “I’m glad this place was here. It’d be a shame if someone who didn’t appreciate it came to own it.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be staying here,” Seokjin reminded him.

“No,” Yoongi agreed, “but as long as you are the court witch, this space will remain yours.”

Seokjin turned his head towards Yoongi, resting his cheek on his own shoulder as he took in his profile. He wasn’t looking at Seokjin, his attention still on the garden around them, but perhaps that was better. Seokjin had been thinking about Namjoon’s words all day, about what he wanted. He hadn’t given it much thought previously, and, as Namjoon had rightfully pointed out, that wasn’t fair. People used Yoongi and his position, they came and went without regard to a man who lacked the same freedom. Seokjin didn’t want to be like that.

If this had been a year ago, even six months ago, making any sort of commitment would have been a bad idea. He liked to travel, liked to move around and see new things. He didn’t want, hadn’t wanted, something more stable than that. If he wanted stable, he could go see Taehyung who was as glued to the terrain and land in which he lived as anyone could possibly be.

But ever since he’d felt a desire to return him, since he’s started working at the palace, that feeling had shifted. Suddenly he wanted weekly tea with the queen and regular meetings with Yoongi. He liked the familiarity of it. He couldn’t help but wonder if that was because of Yoongi.

As he’d said, he’d never thought about it, never paused other than to think about what it’d be like to be Yoongi’s friend, but now he was. Why did he want to be Yoongi’s friend? Why did he want to look into Yoongi’s hair? Why did he care? He remembered Yoongi asking him that before and he found, like then, he didn’t have an answer.

But he was starting to wonder if one was forming.

“For someone who can sit so still,” Seokjin murmured, “you sure are restless.”

Yoongi turned to look at him, raising a brow in question. “I’m not moving.”

“No, but your aura is. It’s agitated, fluctuating wildly.”

“Ah,” Yoongi murmured, contemplating that for a second. His first instinct was to brush the comment off, but he ended up replying instead. “I’m… irritated by the hyangni and even more so by Namjoon’s comments.”

Seokjin nodded and looked away, staring out in front of them as he thought. “You think he doesn’t believe in you.”

“Not necessarily,” Yoongi hedged, “but I am sick of having everything I say or do second-guess. The general questioned all my choices for the camps, even my father would only take my recommendations after you okayed them, and now Namjoon is chastising me for my words when I’m in the right? I just... what must it take for them to just trust in my judgment?”

“I don’t have an answer for that,” Seokjin said softly, his tone apologetic.

“I did not expect you to.”

Seokjin hesitated. “But I think, at least from my perspective, when it comes to your father and Namjoon, they’re doing it from a place of care.”

“I know,” Yoongi admitted, smiling slightly. “That makes it worse. My hyung… he knows how to do the balance. To offer assistance and care but allow me to act alone.”

“I’ve seen that. He’ll make a good king.”

Yoongi nodded. “And a good father.”

“Being an uncle is a better job,” Seokjin commented, trying to lighten the mood. “You can give gifts and treats and avoid all the punishments.”

Laughing, Yoongi shook his head. “That would be the case if hyung had the ability to punish someone. The most he’s managed is a stern frown.”

Seokjin’s expression dimmed a bit. “He’ll have to learn if he wants to rule.”

Yoongi met his eyes. “I know. But for now, it’s fine.”

Nodding, Seokjin straightened, lifting his hands from where they’d been resting behind him. He dusted off the dirt and tiny stones stuck to his hands before drawing a small circle in front of him in the soil. He wiped away part of the circle they were still sitting inside and quickly etched the proper characters and lines. Once he was done, he looked at Yoongi, who was watching him curiously. “Do you know what you remind me of?”

“Uh, no?”

“A hummingbird.”

“A… what?” Yoongi asked, never having heard of that bird before.

“A hummingbird. They’re small birds that take nectar from flowers with long, thin beaks. They have these small wings that move so fast they’re almost invisible. You remind me of one. You’re constantly bouncing between things, worrying and taking on tasks for everyone else. You don’t rest or even pause, constantly moving like a hummingbird’s wings.”

Yoongi frowned slightly. “That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“Perhaps not,” Seokjin agreed, placing a hand over the circle to activate it. Immediately, it flashed pink and then a burst of gold erupted, forming a small hummingbird in a shower of shimmering light. Yoongi gasped and leaned forward as Seokjin turned his hand over and lifted it higher with his palm. He titled his head. “I suppose your colour is gold. That explains the hair.”

“My… colour?” Yoongi repeated quietly.

“Mhm,” Seokjin murmured. “The circle was to infuse your aura into a hummingbird form. It’s gold, like you.”

“Oh,” Yoongi murmured. “Can I touch it?”

When Seokjin nodded, Yoongi tentatively reached out. It didn’t feel like anything, not really. It was like a mild thrumming against his fingertips. The gold light moved rapidly behind the figure of the bird, imitating the wings Yoongi assumed, but when Yoongi went to touch them, it moved, darting sharply to the right. Yoongi jumped and looked at Seokjin who just shrugged and dropped his hand, freeing the bird to move on its own. It flew around them and the garden, pausing at flowers and plants before darting quickly to another, leaving a transparent and fading trail of gold in its wake.

Before long, it returned to Yoongi, hovering in front of his face. Yoongi reached out to hold out his palm as Seokjin had done but instead of settling, the bird darted towards his face and erupted in light, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared in the first place.

Yoongi blinked away the spots the light had left in his vision before turning to Seokjin again. He was sure he looked awed, he felt awed, but Seokjin wasn’t laughing or teasing him. For once, he was just watching him softly, an expression on his face that made Yoongi’s breath catch and heart race. Yoongi wanted to say something, ask what that look meant, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to hear if it meant something else. He didn’t want to hear if it meant what he thought. He just… didn’t want to know.

Seokjin had other plans. He lifted his hand, the fingers Yoongi had only let himself think of once touching his cheek gently. Yoongi held himself perfectly still, unsure if he wanted to lean closer or pull away. Seokjin made that choice for him too. He bent his head, closing the distance between them with a casual confidence Yoongi was unsure he’d ever muster. He felt the moment Seokjin’s lips touched his, felt the moment his breathing stopped entirely and his eyes squeezed shut.

Felt the moment he pulled away.

“I— I’m sorry,” Yoongi mumbled, scrambling up from the ground and darting towards the door, much as the hummingbird had previously moved between flowers. Seokjin didn’t say anything. Didn’t ask him to stop, to come back, didn’t even ask him why. He just let him run away and Yoongi wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Chapter Text

Coward.

Yoongi shifted his posture, his attention only half focused on directing the horse under him to follow the guards leading the way toward the outpost. It was on the border and under the supervision of the general, so it should be well protected, but even he, with his aversion to large entourages, wouldn’t be stupid enough to travel the distance without ample guards.

Their diligence, however, just allowed him to fixate on his own actions the night before. He’d sought out Seokjin, he’d sat beside him and enjoyed his time, he’d wanted that kiss.

And yet he’d run away.

Because you’re a coward.

If only it were that simple. In the light of day, he was self-aware enough to admit that he hadn’t even really thought about it before he’d pulled back. He just had. The part of himself that didn’t want to break his rules, didn’t want to get attached to someone who could use him, won. He had his rules for a reason. He’d told Seokjin as much. He wouldn’t give someone the chance to use his feelings for them as a weapon.

Do you think Seokjin would?

Yoongi honestly didn’t know. His immediate answer was that he wouldn’t. Seokjin didn’t care about politics—he barely cared about proper hierarchy—what would he care about using Yoongi’s power for himself? He was a fucking witch, he could take this kingdom if he wanted. But another part of himself always spoke up around this time, reminding him that he didn’t know him that well, that there were still so many questions and blank spots in his life and past and motivations. None of that should matter and maybe it really didn’t, but Yoongi was using it as a shield.

Seokjin, for his part, hadn’t said a word. Not about the almost kiss, not about their conversation, not at all. He’d greeted Yoongi and Namjoon as he usually did and had since remained silent. Namjoon kept looking at him, questions in his eyes, but Yoongi didn’t know how to answer. What was he supposed to say? He fucked up and he didn’t know how to fix it. Didn’t know if he wanted to.

Gods, why didn’t he know what he wanted?

Sighing, Yoongi surveyed the landscape around him, looking for anything to take his mind off the mess he’d made of his friendship—relationship?—with Seokjin. Just off to the right, he spotted a bird flying from a tree and closed his eyes as he was assaulted by memories of the night before. What did a real hummingbird look like? Would he ever see one? What had Seokjin really meant when he said he reminded him of one? He’d sounded… pleased when he described it. He’d sounded like it wasn’t as negative as Yoongi had taken it. Had he meant it in a good way? Why hadn’t Yoongi asked?

Why had he run away?

Yoongi allowed himself to look at Seokjin for the first time since they’d set off towards the outpost. It had been hours but Yoongi had been good. Now, he looked, let himself just glance quickly. Seokjin was staring at the same bird he’d seen, watching it fly across the sky. Yoongi bit his lip and looked away. He couldn’t do this, just not talk about it. They needed to talk. They needed to—

“Your Highness? We’re here.”

Straightening his spine, Yoongi nodded in acknowledgement. Now wasn’t the time to be focusing on personal matters. He was a prince. He was here to stop a war. That had to come first. He needed to remember that.

♔♔♔

Seokjin had made a mistake. He was witch enough to admit that. The issue was he didn’t really understand how he’d made a mistake. He was sure he’d read the signs right. First of all, Namjoon wouldn’t have basically threatened him if he hadn’t noticed something going on. So there was that. But on a more personal level, Seokjin knew that Yoongi was attracted to him and when he’d looked at him, still faintly glowing from the after-effects of his silly spell, he’d looked like he wanted Seokjin to kiss him.

Hadn’t he?

He’d been asking himself that all morning. All night really. If Yoongi hadn’t wanted Seokjin to kiss him, he would feel like absolute shit. Yoongi had told him he didn’t get together with men involved in the royal court so he’d known that going in, which meant, if he’d misread Yoongi’s intentions, he’d just blatantly ignored Yoongi’s wishes. That was a hard pill to swallow. Fuck, he hoped that wasn’t the case.

The issue was he didn’t know. He was starting to second guess his own perception of things. Yoongi had looked like he wanted to say something to him all morning, he’d even caught him staring sadly after a bird—that had to mean something, right?—but maybe he was just curious because Seokjin had described him as a bird he’d never actually see in person. Maybe he just liked birds.

There was the added complication of Namjoon, who, since they’d met in the morning to leave, had been all but glaring a hole in the back of Seokjin’s head. As far as Namjoon was concerned, he’d caused a problem. He wasn’t wrong.

So, how was he to handle this? He wanted to play it off, joke about taking advantage of the atmosphere, but he knew he wouldn’t. Although it may be true, Yoongi had looked good surrounded by flowers and gold magic, it wasn’t the whole truth. Seokjin wasn’t sure what the whole truth was anymore. What he did know: 

1. Yoongi was diligent and an incredibly hard worker. 
2. Yoongi was pretty. 
3. Yoongi’s dry humour made him laugh.
4. Yoongi’s lips had tasted way too good for such a brief moment. 
5. Yoongi made him want to stay somewhere longer than a few months. 
6. Yoongi was… all things.

Seokjin sighed to himself, unsure what to think or feel about his own sappy thoughts. There was no real reason why Yoongi was dominating them, why, after such a short time, he held Seokjin’s attention like no one had in nearly one hundred years, why he was sick at the thought that he’d misunderstood.

The night before, he’d had a creeping suspicion that the reason for all of this, for all of his confusion, was that he was developing feelings. It hadn’t worried him then, but now it did. He didn’t even know how to be Yoongi’s friend, how the fuck was he supposed to be something more. And even then, what more was there? They couldn’t be together, not really. Yoongi wasn’t going to run off and live the witch lifestyle with Seokjin in a small cottage-like Taehyung’s. Seokjin could stay at the palace—he was starting to suspect he would regardless—but what did that offer him? Secrecy? Stolen moments and hidden looks? Seokjin wasn’t sure he’d be okay with that.

By the time they arrived at the outpost, Seokjin hadn’t come to a conclusion. He wanted Yoongi but he wasn’t sure if he wanted all the baggage that would come along with it. He realized, to his own shame, that this was exactly what Namjoon had been trying to warn him about. He should have thought about it more seriously before he’d tried to kiss Yoongi. Now he’d caused an issue, made the situation tense, and he didn’t even know how he wanted it to end.

The only bright side was that Seokjin didn’t think Yoongi did either.

There was some irony in that, Seokjin was sure, but as the captain of the outpost showed them around, gesturing to the border as he did so, Seokjin couldn’t bring himself to be amused by it.

“What’s your opinion of the situation?” Yoongi asked, and, when the captain paused, added, “Speak freely. General Park will not hear of this and I will not be offended. My purpose here is to protect as many people as possible.”

The captain, an older man Seokjin had vaguely heard called Captain Oh, nodded slowly. “I, honestly, don’t think anyone knows what’s going on.”

Yoongi raised a brow. “Go on.”

“The general thinks they’re preparing a war,” Captain Oh paused, tilting his head. “At first, I agreed. There were too many new camps where previously there were none and it seemed odd. Suspicious at least. But my men have been patrolling, more so than usual, and sometimes they cross paths with soldiers from the other side.”

“That… could be bad,” Yoongi mumbled.

“I thought so too but it ended up just making things more ambiguous. The patrols aren’t hostile. My men said they seemed laid back and more than a little confused about why they were there. My night patrol team took it upon themselves to… listen in to a conversation and he said they were mostly wondering when they would be able to go home.”

Yoongi moved away from the captain, his eyes drifting over the large map painted on the wall. It was focused on the border but had few details since, if the outpost was taken, they didn’t want to reveal where other camps were situated. Looking at it, Seokjin could pinpoint where they’d set up each camp and he knew Yoongi could see the same.

“None of this makes sense,” Namjoon said after a moment.

“No, it doesn’t,” Yoongi agreed, still staring at the map. “Why did they start moving men to the border in the first place? Why accuse us of spying when they weren’t doing anything wrong?”

Namjoon crossed his arms. “What did that letter say? We’ve only gotten the one right?”

“Yes,” Yoongi confirmed. “We sent several but they only responded to one. It was short, simply saying they were running training exercises and that spying was an act of a hostile country.”

“Could they really be running training exercises?” Seokjin wondered, forgetting their awkward tension for a moment. He’d seen the war begin in his predictions, seen the bloodshed and death, but he’d never seen the why.

“It is. That’s why we didn’t react right away. They’ve been here too long to be training still,” Yoongi said, shaking his head. “It’s been months since we sent that letter, remember.”

“Right,” Seokjin sighed out. Time flew by when you were actively trying to prevent a war.

Captain Oh cleared his throat. “At this point, I don’t think either side wants a war. No further camps have popped up since Councilman Kim was here last and the ones that are there already don’t show any intense activity. At worst, they’re defensive camps.”

Yoongi hummed. “Can’t fault them for that.”

“No, but we can wonder why. They didn’t even do that when we were in the middle of a civil war,” Namjoon pointed out.

“That we know of,” Yoongi said. “I doubt anyone was overly focused on this border then. The town, how long has it been here?”

The captain shrugged. “Some of the families have been here for generations but the market and town center is twenty years old at most. That’s why we don’t have any permanent presence here.”

Yoongi nodded. That lined up with what his father had said, though he hadn’t had any idea when the town had appeared. Given the proximity to the border, it was entirely possible the people weren’t even— Yoongi pressed his finger to his eyes. “Are the people of the town citizens?”

“They live within our borders,” Namjoon answered, his brows furrowed.

But Seokjin understood. “You think they’re from across the border.”

“It would explain why there has been rumour of more foreigners in the area. If the people moved across the border when the town was created for protection or easier access to resources, they’re going to keep going back and forth to visit family.”

Captain Oh sighed heavily. “Which means they would have heard the same rumours we did of people in their territory when they shouldn’t be.”

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Seokjin moaned, laughing a bit. “I’ve been seeing visions of people dying because two royal families didn’t pay close enough attention to the movement of their own fucking people on the border? Are you serious?”

Yoongi looked a little embarrassed but that didn’t stop him from answering, “It’s a possibility.”

“Stupid,” Seokjin repeated.

Namjoon frowned at Seokjin before addressing Yoongi, “So what next?”

“Next, Captain Oh will show me the most recent reports so I can look over what’s happened since you were here last. Then, Seokjin and I return to the town and, ideally, request a meeting to sort this all out.”

“I’m going to take a look around,” Namjoon said after a moment, bowing and leaving the room when Yoongi nodded in agreement. Seokjin shuffled his feet somewhat awkwardly, unsure what he was supposed to do. He couldn’t exactly watch Yoongi read reports, especially not when they hadn’t talked about… everything.

“You’re free to look around as well,” Yoongi informed him, interrupting his thoughts. “Perhaps your unique insight will show you something others have missed.”

Seokjin knew a dismissal when he heard one so he bowed and left the room without another word, heading out of the building and into the field surrounding it. The location was good, nestled between two large hills with only two paths in and out: one towards the town and one towards the border. Seokjin scanned the area, seeing soldiers milling around, some practicing forms, others chatting idly as they went about tasks.

As Captain Oh had pointed out, there was no tension here. Seokjin didn’t know a lot about war, but he figured if there was a real threat, the soldiers assigned here would be more anxious. From the reports he’d skimmed while planning with Yoongi, everyone at the border had years of experience. He’d assumed it would be an undesirable placement for anyone who wanted to move up the ranks, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Something about the first line of defence. Seokjin figured that made sense.

Scanning the area again, Seokjin started walking towards the general direction of the border. They were close enough that it was within a twenty-minute walk and he had time so why not? A few soldiers gave him odd looks but they’d apparently been told about him because they didn’t stop him or ask questions.

There was no line in the soil, no real indication that the border was where people said it was, but Seokjin knew the approximate area from studying the map. He stopped walking once he came to the top of a small hill, his eyes travelling over the area with a vague sort of interest. He’d crossed many borders in his time. They mattered little to him when he was travelling—he’d crossed the borders of entire countries that no longer existed, why should they matter?—but it never ceased to amaze him how mundane the areas usually were. In some countries, they were more serious, with more guards and actual walls, but a lot of the time they were just empty swaths of fields random men had decided marked the end of their territory. It was banal in its normality.

Or it should be.

Seokjin narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing and mouth firming into a thin line when he caught sight of a black lump of fabric in the middle of the field. Judging by the positioning, it was just on the other side of the border. Seokjin moved towards it slowly, a tingling sensation drawing him closer until he was standing within a stone’s throw.

It was only now that he was close that he could tell it wasn’t a lump of fabric but a person. A person that appeared to be sleeping.

“Um, hello?”

The lump of fabric jolted and then sat up, revealing the tired eyes of an older man, who blinked at him lazily. “Kim Seokjin?”

“Who’s asking?” Seokjin managed, pushing down the panic that threatened to rise at his own name falling from a stranger’s lips.

The man sighed and stood up, the black fabric of his cloak falling away to reveal a military uniform. It was unfamiliar, which told Seokjin that, as he’d suspected, this man was from the neighbouring country. “Head Palace Guard Yang. A pleasure to meet you.”

Seokjin blinked. Palace guard? “A little far from home, aren’t you?”

“You’re telling me,” the guard agreed, “but when the queen asks you to wait at a specific spot and deliver a message, you do it. She’s good at knowing stuff like that.”

“And that message is for me?” Seokjin wondered.

“No. It’s for Prince Min Yoongi. She just said you’d be the one to take it to him.”

Seokjin furrowed his brow. “How would the queen know that?”

“She said you’d know when you touched the letter,” guard Yang said, holding out an inconspicuous-looking scroll. There was a royal seal on it and a ribbon holding it closed. Seokjin moved closer tentatively and reached out. The moment his fingers touched the parchment, it flared green and he ripped his hand away, hissing. The guard looked sympathetic. “She didn’t say it hurt.”

“She’s a witch,” Seokjin said, stating the obvious.

“Obviously,” guard Yang said, rolling his eyes. “Now are you going to take this or not? I’m trying to prevent a war here.”

Seokjin’s head snapped up, his frown intensifying. “She saw it too.”

Guard Yang nodded. “I’ve been told you have more sway with your predictions so they’ll listen to you. My queen doesn’t have that luxury.”

That wasn’t entirely surprising. Not everyone was as pleased to hear vague predictions or see the extent of a witch’s power as Queen Sooyoung was. Though, for the most part, Seokjin had very few truly negative experiences, he’d had his fair share of less than desirable ones. He couldn’t imagine a situation in which a practicing witch would find herself married to a king but he found, at this moment, he didn’t care. Not if she was working to bring about the same future he’d seen. He’d have to trust her. And this guard.

“Then I will accept this letter and make sure the prince takes it seriously,” Seokjin promised. Guard Yang held it out again for Seokjin to take. Thankfully, it didn’t hurt him again. Whatever the spell he’d activated had been intended to do had been done. The guard bowed the second his hands were free and spun on his heel without another word. Seokjin blinked after him. “Thank you!”

“Thank me by stopping this,” Guard Yang replied without turning around or pausing. Seokjin watched him go, not moving until he disappeared over a hill, then he ran. He didn’t stop to think that the last time he’d run he’d been nearing fifty years old, he just ran.

He managed the return journey in half the time, his breath wheezing as he made his way to the door. The soldiers who’d previously given him odd looks but let him be now followed closely behind, clearly reading the tension in Seokjin’s form and wanting to know what had happened at the border. Seokjin ignored them and shouted, “I need to see the prince!”

Captain Oh appeared almost immediately, frowning at him. “That’s not how— what is that?”

“A letter. A royal guard gave it to me at the border. It’s for Prince Yoongi.”

The captain’s eyes widened as they settled on the seal. He clearly recognized it because a second later he was gone, disappearing up a flight of stairs. Seokjin followed after, assuming he was heading to Yoongi.

He was right. 

The captain was knocking politely at the door but Seokjin just pushed past him and threw it open without waiting for permission. Captain Oh made a scandalized noise but Seokjin ignored him, going straight to where Yoongi was seated at the table, reports scattered around him. “Read this. Now.”

Yoongi frowned at him, his eyes dropping to the letter before he snatched it out of Seokjin’s hands. “Where did you get this?”

“Royal guard. The queen is a witch. Read it,” Seokjin explained briefly.

“Excuse me?” Yoongi managed, looking up at Seokjin. “My mother?”

Seokjin shook his head. “No, their queen. She sent the letter with a guard and sealed it with a spell that only activated when I touched it. Apparently, she’s seen the same war I have and wants to prevent it so she sent this letter.”

Yoongi pursed his lips but finally moved to do as asked. He broke the seal with a flick of his wrist and unrolled the scroll, scanning quickly. After a moment, his eyebrows rose and he read it again. “Captain Oh, get Councilman Kim.”

“Your—”

“And have my head attendant fetch my writing supplies. I’ll need to contact my brother and the king.”

The captain’s eyes widened again but he bowed. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

Dropping down into the seat across from him, Seokjin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “What does it say?”

“It says,” Yoongi said slowly, placing the letter down on the table, “that the king wants to meet with me. He’ll be sending the crown prince.”

Seokjin raised a brow. That wasn’t how he’d seen it before. “Interesting. The guard didn’t tell me much but he said that the queen wasn’t able to use her predictions a lot. I get the impression that her being a witch isn’t common knowledge.”

Yoongi nodded, his eyes still on the letter. “That’s very likely. Most people are not my mother. And most men would not take kindly to a woman having more power than him. Especially not if he’s used to being in charge.”

“Egos, am I right?” Seokjin teased before he tensed, grimacing at himself. It was so easy to fall into their previously comfortable habits. It was just easy to be around Yoongi period. “Look, Yoongichi, I—”

“Later,” Yoongi interrupted. He glanced at him quickly then looked away. “I need to— this is all so important and I need to focus, okay? Can we— we can talk later.”

Seokjin licked his lips hesitantly. That wasn’t ideal but he understood. Potential war came first. “Okay.”

At his reply, Yoongi relaxed visibly. Seokjin hadn’t even realized how tense he’d been until that moment. It made him feel even more guilty and he wanted to apologize. Thankfully, before Seokjin could do the very thing Yoongi had just asked him not to—talk about what had happened—Namjoon appeared with Attendant Cho right behind him.

“A letter? You got a letter?” Namjoon said, taking the offered document from Yoongi almost immediately. Attendant Cho slipped past him and set Yoongi’s brush and ink dish down before handing him a stack of official-looking papers. Namjoon shifted out of his way, still reading the letter. “How did they know you were here?”

“Witchcraft,” Seokjin said, completely serious. “They saw the same predictions I did.”

Namjoon’s eyes snapped up. “They have a witch?”

“Understatement,” Yoongi muttered, his attention focused on the careful strokes of his brush as he explained the situation to his brother. He’d been sending him daily letters to report what was happening but Hyungki hadn’t replied as of yet. It was unlikely he would since Yoongi was handling the situation. This letter would demand immediate attention though and would likely be read to the council so he had to be careful and concise. He tuned out Seokjin re-explaining his encounter with the guard and the queen’s apparent magic and focused on the task at hand.

When he was done, he shifted it off to the side so the ink could dry and wrote a similar, if more formal, letter to his father. This time, his movements were quicker, more comfortable now that he knew exactly what he wanted to say and how. He wasn’t even aware everyone had stopped talking until he finished and looked up, finding the room empty except for Namjoon and Seokjin, both of whom were staring at him.

“What?”

“You’re cute when you’re focused,” Namjoon teased easily, smiling when Yoongi made a grumbling noise. “You asked!”

“My mistake,” Yoongi replied, rolling his eyes. “Where’s the captain?”

“Here, Your Highness!” The captain said immediately, the door opening as he spoke.

Yoongi raised a brow but didn’t comment. He simply rolled the letters and pressed his seal into both, waving them slightly to dry the wax faster. When it was sufficiently hardened, he held them out. “Find your fastest rider. They need to be at the palace by this evening.”

“I guarantee they will be,” the captain said, all but running out of the room in his haste to do as he’d been ordered.

Namjoon stared after him. “I like him. He’s not the man I’d have expected for General Park to place here.”

“No,” Yoongi agreed, “but the general wasn’t always so hostile.”

“In what life?” Seokjin muttered.

“This one,” Yoongi said with a shrug. “Who do you think it was that helped my dad win the crown?”

Pausing to digest that, Seokjin tilted his head. “Why is he so…”

“Rude? Disrespectful? Spiteful?” Yoongi supplied, sighing. “He doesn’t approve of me or hyung. Sees us as ruining the royal family he fought a war for. It’s made him… unreliable. Even my father is aware of it.”

Seokjin hummed, thinking over what he’d seen of the general in person and in his predictions. He supposed that made sense. Everything he’d seen had to do with Yoongi in some way, both the good and the bad. He’d still watch him though. So far, he hadn’t seen any indication the general had made the choices that would lead to the bad outcomes but being away from the palace limited his ability to double-check.

Suddenly, Namjoon sighed. “I have to go, hyung. Before it gets too dark. I’ve been delaying but…”

Yoongi frowned at him, his eyes darting to the window like he’d forgotten time had been passing while they sat here. “Why are you even still here? Go. It’ll be fine.”

Still, Namjoon hesitated. “Are you sure…”

“Namjoon, go. That’s an order,” Yoongi huffed out.

“Alright, fine, Your Highness,” Namjoon finally replied, laughing a bit. He stood, placing a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself, okay? The people around you need you alive more than this country needs you to wear yourself down.”

In stark contrast to how he usually reacted to Namjoon’s worry and concern, Yoongi simply reached up and patted his hand. “I promise. Now go.”

“See you soon, hyung,” Namjoon said quietly, then, turning to Seokjin, added, “You as well.”

“I look forward to it,” Seokjin returned, smiling genuinely. Namjoon really was a great person—once Seokjin got past all the childish jealousy that is. With a final bow, Namjoon left the room, once again leaving Yoongi and Seokjin alone. The air wasn’t as tense as before but it wasn’t comfortable and Seokjin didn’t know how to fix it.

Neither, apparently, did Yoongi. “I’ll see you tomorrow as well.”

Another dismissal. That hurt, if he was being honest, but Seokjin nodded anyway. They’d talk about it later, that was the deal, so he’d let Yoongi rest in peace. “Goodnight, Yoongichi.”

Chapter Text

Yoongi awoke to the sound of knocking and an almost vicious sense of deja vu. He blinked up at the ceiling bitterly, the desire to simply turn over and ignore the person at the door nearly overwhelming him. The only thing that stopped him was that he wasn’t in his bed at home, nor was he in the new room at the residence they’d purchased in town. He was still at the outpost, having decided to stay the night so the messenger returning his brother’s letter would know exactly where to go.

The letter.

Rolling out of bed, Yoongi pulled on his robe and moved to the door, opening it cautiously. The captain, fully dressed and looking chipper considering how early it was, held out a scroll bearing his brother’s seal. “We only received one response. The return messenger said the king approved your brother’s reply rather than sending a second, separate one.”

Yoongi nodded. That made sense. The only reason he’d sent two was to avoid people thinking he was trying to hide things from the king. “You can send up breakfast.”

“It’s already on the way. I figured you’d want it while you read the letter,” the captain replied, smiling slightly at his own forethought.

“Thank you,” Yoongi found himself saying. He’d been thanking people more since he’d met Seokjin, since he’d joked that royalty often didn’t, and it still felt odd on his tongue. He’d been raised not to do that since it could be perceived as a weakness, but the way people lit up when he did made that odd feeling worth it.

“Your Highness,” the captain said quietly, bowing as he left him alone.

Yoongi closed the door quickly and moved to his table. He unrolled the response and flattened it out. As he’d suspected, it wasn’t an overly long reply, but it was filled with uncertainty. Both Hyungki and their father thought it would be wise to meet but they didn’t like how orchestrated it felt. Yoongi had left out the part about the queen being a witch figuring that would be best said in person, so he understood their wariness.

Barely pausing, Yoongi reached for his brush and ink again, already mentally drafting a reply to the previous letter. The outpost would be an okay meeting spot but it was too close to the border and the nearly a dozen camps they had established. A meeting in town would be safer and more neutral, even if Yoongi had people near him. Deciding that was best, Yoongi wrote down his agreement to meet and gave directions to the residence he would be staying at.

Once he was done, he read it over again to ensure he’d been clear and succinct, then set it aside to dry. A few minutes later, a knock at the door told him his breakfast had arrived. “Come in.”

“Your Highness,” the young servant greeted, bowing as she entered.

“You can set it down on the table,” Yoongi ordered, shuffling a few things out of the way to give her room. She nodded without lifting her eyes and did as asked, never once looking at him or away from his food. He supposed she was doing that to show she wasn’t trying to sneak information—it would be a good habit for someone working at a military post—but he didn’t particularly like it. He might not thank people often but he certainly didn’t expect complete and utter deference.

“Thank you,” Yoongi said again.

Only then did she lift her head, shock clear on her face. “Your Highness.”

Yoongi wasn’t sure what that tone meant—he’d learned to hear a whole language behind the way people said his title—but before he could ask, she was gone and he was alone again. Yoongi frowned slightly, shaking off the part of himself that wanted to dwell, and began to eat. It was a simple meal but he hadn’t expected more. It was, after all, an outpost. He was sure his meal was much more extravagant than that of the regular soldiers. Perhaps even more so than Seokjin.

You’re predictable.

Sighing, Yoongi set down his chopsticks and reached for the tea the servant girl had poured for him. He’d managed, quite successfully, to not think about Seokjin in any way aside from professionally since he’d arrived at the outpost. Now, however, with the most important things dealt with, his mind drifted there again. Oh so predictably. He supposed that wasn’t a bad thing per se. He did need to think about what he wanted to say when they did talk. And what he wanted.

Yoongi wasn’t sure he’d ever made a choice purely based on what he wanted alone. Most things he did related to his position in some way or another, even if he didn’t intend for them to. Even this… thing he had or didn’t have with Seokjin came down to that. Or rather, his worry that it would. Things would be much easier if he wasn’t the prince, if he didn’t have duties and requirements and a whole country looking up to him. If he wasn’t the prince…

If he wasn’t the prince… Yoongi repeated to himself, staring blankly ahead. If he wasn’t the prince he’d have kissed Seokjin back. Hell, he probably would have climbed right into his lap. That moment had been… Yoongi didn’t have the words. Even just thinking about the way Seokjin had looked at him, the way he’d touched his face, made his stomach clench. It was an almost queasy feeling in the bright morning light and yet Yoongi wanted to go back there, feel that gentle touch again.

If he wasn’t the prince, Yoongi would grab onto Sekjin with both hands and never let go. But he was the prince. Every choice he made had to first be considered through that lens. And that, that reality, was where Yoongi faltered. Was it okay for him to just… want something? Someone? Would it be okay to have someone like Seokjin? Something just for him? His parents and his brother all got to have love, real, true love, could he?

For the first time since Yoongi had realized he liked men, he found himself wondering if he could end up happy, could have that happiness he’d resigned himself to never having. For the first time, it felt possible.

♔♔♔

The return to their previous residence was uneventful in comparison. Word of the foreign crown prince coming to meet with Yoongi to discuss peace had spread quickly and whatever ill-will the people had harboured toward Yoongi fled just as quickly. He wasn’t sure if he had Seokjin to thank for that or if people really were so easily swayed but regardless, Yoongi pressed his advantage. He hired local artisans and purchased from local merchants, using as much local talent as possible to set up the residence for the meeting.

Or rather, his attendant did. Yoongi didn’t do much of anything himself. Not of that variety anyway. He spent most days writing letters and reading reports from his brother, the messengers moving much quicker between them now that such an important meeting was on the horizon. Hyungki offered to come himself several times, not wanting to put such pressure on Yoongi, but he refused. Yoongi was sure he could handle it—he wanted to—so he assured him that he was fine and that he had Attendant Cho here to help with anything he needed. The man was hyper-competent.

He refrained from saying he had Seokjin too, mostly because every mention of Seokjin in his letters had seemingly fascinated his brother to an almost suspicious degree and if Yoongi had more brainpower, he’d have stopped to think about that for a moment, but he did not, so it went unexamined for the most part.

Seokjin spent most of his time in the garden. He’d been repositioning the energy of the soil—or so he’d told Yoongi—so that the herbs he’d need in the future would be stronger. This apparently took a great deal of time because Seokjin was in the garden for nearly a dozen hours a day. If Yoongi didn’t see servants go out to give him food, he’d have been worried.

Time passed so quickly that it wasn’t until the day before the crown prince was set to arrive that Yoongi saw Seokjin for more than a passing second. They’d gone from spending nearly every day together to not seeing each other at all and, as weird as that was, Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to comment on it. If Seokjin noticed, he couldn’t either.

“Can I see the letter the queen sent?”

Yoongi frowned slightly but went to dig the letter out of his letterbox regardless. He handed it to Seokjin. “Why?”

“It occurs to me that I don’t know anything about this witch other than the fact her magic is green. I want to see if I can track her a bit. See how long she’s been in the area of the royal palace, if she’s been doing magic, that sort of thing.”

“Can you do that?” Yoongi wondered.

Seokjin nodded. “Yes. All I need is something with a spell a witch cast on it. The fact I couldn’t trace your hair was unusual. Only a very powerful witch could block me like that.”

“I thought you were a very powerful witch,” Yoongi teased lightly, some part of him desperate for how easy things had been before.

“I am,” Seokjin said simply, smiling, “and that means she’s insanely powerful. Probably old too. That usually goes hand in hand.”

Yoongi hummed, stepping closer like he couldn’t stop himself. “How does that work? The age thing?”

Seokjin’s head tilted down so he could see Yoongi’s face better now that he was closer. “The simple version is practicing magic slows our aging. We can live indefinitely though most witches prefer to fade out after a few hundred years.”

“Is that what you’ll do?” Yoongi wondered.

“Unless I find someone I want to age for,” Seokjin confirmed, his eyes never leaving Yoongi’s face.

“Seokjin…” Yoongi began, his voice trailing off. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say then. He’d started speaking before his brain had registered his lips were moving. He opened his mouth to speak again then closed it, looking up at Seokjin silently.

From Seokjin’s perspective, Yoongi’s eyes were almost pleading. Seokjin wanted nothing more than to surge forward, to kiss him again, but he didn’t want Yoongi to run from him. Not again. He needed to know he wasn’t pushing something Yoongi didn’t want. “Yoongi.”

Yoongi’s breath hitched and he stepped even closer. Seokjin was sure they’d never stood so close before. He could feel Yoongi’s voluminous robes brush against his, smell the oils Yoongi used to tame his long, somewhat unruly hair, see the tiny freckles Seokjin had only just spotted on Yoongi’s nose. “I…”

His resolve weakening, Seokjin touched Yoongi’s cheek, just a light, ghost of a touch. It was barely anything but Yoongi leaned into it, tilting his head into Seokjin’s hand as he continued to look at him. Something in Seokjin snapped and he leaned forward. It was only the widening of Yoongi’s eyes that made him swerve, made him press his lips to Yoongi’s forehead instead. “Yoongi…”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered, just as he had last time.

Seokjin squeezed his eyes shut and let out a long, shuddering breath. Fuck, he wanted this. He’d thought he wasn’t sure, that he could decide one way or the other, but he couldn’t. If Yoongi ran from him again, he’d break. Fuck. “You need to be clear, Yoongichi. I don’t want— I need to know.”

“I know,” Yoongi agreed. “I know. I just— it’s complicated.”

“Most things are,” Seokjin agreed softly. Because, yea, he knew that. Of course he did. He’d even thought about it. As a prince, Yoongi couldn’t be with him completely, not really. They’d have to sneak around, have to hide it, and that was easily one of Yoongi’s biggest fears. Seokjin knew that. But he wanted it anyway. “I’ll be here when you figure it out.”

Yoongi pushed forward, pressing his forehead even harder against Seokjin’s lips, then pulled back. His eyes were still wide, still pleading, but he stood straighter than he had before. “Okay.”

Seokjin wasn’t sure what that meant but he nodded anyway. “I’ll let you know if I find anything interesting about the queen.”

“Please do,” Yoongi murmured, seemingly relaxing with the change of subject. Seokjin wanted to linger but he forced himself to leave. Yoongi needed to think and Seokjin needed to let him. If he put up a silencing spell and screamed about it for a few minutes, no one had to know.

♔♔♔

Never in his life had Seokjin used magic as a distraction, but, as the residence bustled around him to get ready, he did just that. Word had come from the outpost that the crown prince had crossed the border with a small guard and would arrive within hours. Every servant in the building was scrambling as if they hadn’t spent the entire week before preparing. Seokjin was useless in that regard so he settled on doing something he was actually good at: magic.

He took his time drawing out the circle in the soil of the path just under the tree. It’d become his favourite spot even before Yoongi had sat there with him since it provided a good view of the surrounding garden. Plus, the energy of the garden flowed past and around this spot so it was an even better choice.

Setting down the letter and a new map of the neighbouring country in their designated spots, Seokjin double-checked his work and then sat down, automatically folding his legs under him and taking a steadying breath. He let his mind settle, the calmness of the garden in stark contrast to the noises of the house, and let his magic merge and seep into the soil and energy of the garden. It fluctuated a bit as it did every time he tried to harness the garden’s energy, then moved steadily into the lines he’d drawn. As always, it began in a pale, almost white colour, then intensified to a bright pink. Then the lines reversed and converged on the letter and map, small dots of colour appearing where similar magic had been used.

At first, there was only a small dot where Seokjin had received the letter, and then more further into the territory Seokjin was largely unfamiliar with. He’d travelled through it several times but not enough to recognize features on a map. Not that there was much on the map anyway. It was vague, most words on the map pointing to large trading outposts and other similar places. The dots seemingly all converged on a location nestled in the mountains. It was just off from the capital city so Seokjin assumed it was the palace.

As Seokjin watched, more and more dots appeared, all merging together like someone had poured ink on the map. Eventually, the whole capital city was obscured. Seokjin frowned, that wasn’t usually how this spell worked, but perhaps she hadn’t moved for a very long time. But, just as soon as he’d thought that, a harsh line appeared on the map, darting downward towards the outpost they’d stayed at just on the border, and running off the map entirely.

For a moment, nothing happened. No further dots or lines appeared. If his circle wasn’t still glowing, he’d have thought the spell was done. He glanced at the time gauge he’d worked into the spell, his frown intensifying as he realized they hadn’t even reached fifty years in the past. The queen had been busy it seemed, but not in her own country prior to fifty years ago. Why?

Seokjin was staring at the map, trying to come up with a way to modify his spell to get answers to those very questions, when the map caught fire. The blob that had become the capital city melted away, the fire licking at the edges of the hole until it engulfed the whole map. Seokjin stared at it in horror, unable to do anything as the map disappeared. He knew, without even turning around, the letter was gone too. Just as it had been before when he’d tried to trace Yoongi’s hair.

The queen was the witch that blessed Yoongi.

Fuck.

♔♔♔

The arrival of the crown prince was clear even before he made it to the residence. It was like a silencing spell had been levelled over the entire town. Yoongi was sure no one was even breathing as the prince and his guards rode past. Yoongi couldn’t fault them.

“Crown Prince Lee,” Yoongi greeted with a polite bow as soon as the prince stepped down from his horse. Usually, someone else was supposed to handle introductions of this sort but he’d wanted to set a more informal tone, so he’d introduced himself. 

Based on the expression the crown prince gave him, he was surprised. “Prince Min.”

Yoongi glanced at Attendant Cho, who stepped forward and bowed. “If the princes would follow me.”

It was a somewhat lengthy procession inside to where they were meeting, most things concerning royalty were, but Yoongi was used to it so he went through the motions without much thought. Just behind him, Seokjin was practically vibrating out of his skin. He hated things like this and even worse, he hadn’t been able to tell Yoongi what he’d found before the prince had arrived. Not that he was even sure it was a good idea to tell him. He honestly wasn’t positive. 

It just felt too coincidental that the queen of a previously peaceful neighbouring country had blessed the prince nearly thirty years ago and had now sent a letter directly to him in the hopes of preventing a war. The only scenario in which any of that made sense was if she’d seen the war long before he had but how? He’d never heard of a witch predicting something that far in the future accurately. But then again, he’d never heard of a witch obscuring her path so completely either so maybe it was possible.

“I regret that my father couldn’t meet with yours directly, but my mother was quite insistent that I meet with you personally,” Crown Prince Lee said once they’d been served tea and left with only a guard each. Or rather, a guard and Seokjin.

Yoongi raised a brow. “Did she say why?”

“No, but sometimes it is best not to argue.”

Without meaning to, Yoongi snorted. “I see. The will of mother’s and all that.”

Crown Prince Lee’s lips quirked up briefly before he sobered. “Indeed.”

Yoongi took a sip of his tea and then set the cup down. “Look, let’s cut to the chase. We don’t want a war and I’m hoping you don’t either so why don’t you just tell me why you suddenly have ten camps on our border and we can clear the air.”

“Why were you spying on us?” Crown Prince Lee returned sharply.

“We weren’t,” Yoongi denied, continuing when the crown prince scoffed, “We simply followed up on the complaints of local townspeople.”

That caught the crown prince’s attention. “Complaints?”

Yoongi nodded. “They’d reported more foreigners in town than usual and worried they were soldiers. I sent someone to investigate and that’s when we found out about the camps. A great many of them are visible from the mountains on our side.”

“Ah,” the crown prince murmured. He didn’t look particularly thrilled to learn that their encampments were visible from another country but there wasn’t much he could do other than move them.

“We’ve set up several encampments in response, as I’m sure your own spies have reported.”

Crown Prince Lee nodded easily. “They have.”

“Yet I’m sure you’ve noticed they are purely defensive,” Yoongi pointed out.

“That is the only reason I am here today,” the crown prince said honestly. “Otherwise my father would not have heeded my mother’s wishes.”

Yoongi lifted his hands in a vague sort of motion. “So, where does that leave us?”

“An impasse.”

Seokjin, who’d remained quiet this entire time, looked between them in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Who are you?” Crown Prince Lee asked blandly.

“Court Witch Kim Seokjin,” Yoongi introduced without missing a beat.

Something sparked in the crown prince’s eyes but he didn’t comment. “I see.”

“What don’t you understand?” Yoongi asked, glancing at Seokjin.

“Neither side wants war. Why is that an impasse? Isn’t that a good thing?”

Crown Prince Lee rolled his eyes. “Sure. Prince Min, remove your camps.”

“After you remove yours.”

“We will. After you remove yours.”

“Which we will do after—”

“Alright!” Seokjin snapped. “I get it.”

“Your court witch is… loud,” Crown Prince Lee observed as if Seokjin wasn’t even there.

“Yes, it can’t be helped,” Yoongi agreed, amusement clear in his tone.

“Have I mentioned recently that I hate politics? Send your mom instead. I’m sure we could have a much more productive chat,” Seokjin ordered casually, frowning at the crown prince.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Crown Prince Lee murmured, though he was looking at Seokjin more closely. “You know, don’t you?”

“We both do,” Yoongi cut in easily. “She put a spell on the letter.”

Crown Prince Lee sighed. “Of course she did.”

“So we know what she knows and we don’t want that to happen, what do we need to do to make sure we all come out of this alive and not in the middle of a war?” Seokjin asked pointedly, ignoring the look Yoongi sent him. He was throwing all the normal rules of meetings like this out the window but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He just wanted to prevent a war! Why was that so hard?

“I’m not sure,” the crown prince admitted. “I was simply sent to gauge intent. As I’m sure you were.”

“I was,” Yoongi agreed.

“Does your father not listen to your mother at all?” Seokjin snapped, irritated.

The crown prince shook his head. “My father is… a product of his time. Though my mother is powerful and quite old, she is still a woman and as such…”

“Ridiculous,” Seokjin muttered.

“An impasse is not such a bad place to be,” Yoongi observed, glancing at Seokjin. “If we both report a lack of intent to start a war, things will remain as they are now. It is not ideal, but a stalemate is better than war.”

“I agree,” the crown prince said with a nod.

“I agree you’re both idiots,” Seokjin sulked.

Yoongi’s eyes widened. “Seokjin!”

But the crown prince merely laughed. “So, it is a witch thing. Is it the power that gives you so much audacity or the age?”

“Both probably,” Seokjin replied with a sigh.

Forgetting himself a moment, Yoongi tilted his head. “Are you not… also a witch?”

Both the crown prince and Seokjin frowned but it was Seokjin who said, “Why would he be?”

“His mother is a witch?” Yoongi pointed out as if that was the obvious answer.

“So?”

Now Yoongi looked between them in confusion. “Is that not… how it works?”

“Why would that be how it worked?” Seokjin asked, genuinely confused by Yoongi’s assumption.

Yoongi threw up his hands. “Why would that not be how it worked!?”

Crown Prince Lee shook his head. “I asked that once but I was quite young. It apparently has to do with a natural inclination to magic and connection to the natural world, correct?”

“Basically,” Seokjin agreed. “Some people have magic, some don’t. It’s not hereditary. Both my parents were farmers, no magic between them.”

“Huh,” Yoongi murmured. “Interesting.”

“I’m surprised you don’t know more considering your hair,” the crown prince observed casually.

Yoongi shrugged, missing the grimace on Seokjin’s face as he answered. “Hair is sometimes just hair.”

“Right,” the crown prince allowed before he sighed. “I think it would be best if we left.”

“We prepared rooms,” Yoongi told him, confused by his sudden choice to leave.

Crown Prince Lee nodded. “I assumed as much but the sooner I report back to the king—and my mother—the better for all of us. Plus, my country will be on high alert until I am back within our borders.”

“I understand,” Yoongi said, rising. “I’ll escort you out. I’m assuming your men remained with their horses when they were taken to the stables?”

“I’d ordered them to,” the crown prince agreed.

“Then I’ll have my attendant bring them to meet us out front,” Yoongi informed him, leading Crown Prince Lee, his guard, and Seokjin towards the front of the residence.

Yoongi was sure his staff was confused. Their meeting had hardly lasted an hour and now they were already preparing to leave. It was highly unusual and everyone knew it. The staff hid it well, simply doing as Yoongi asked with an efficiency that impressed Seokjin given the extent of their previous preparation.

Their hasty departure did mean they ended up waiting just outside the gates for longer than Yoongi would have liked. The town had started to move around them again and they were less skilled in hiding their surprise and interest. Crown Prince Lee raised a brow. “There are several people here wearing our traditional clothing.”

“I suspected as much,” Yoongi admitted. “The town cropped up a few decades ago and no one really knows why. I’m assuming they’ve been moving between the two border towns.”

“It’s possible,” Crown Prince Lee allowed. “I’ll mention that to my father.”

Yoongi inclined his head as he let his gaze sweep over the people as the crown prince obviously had. Some, who had previously been walking by as they went about their normal tasks, had stopped to stare, lingering around storefronts and the street corners. 

The sound of horses’ hooves pulled Yoongi’s attention away from the people. He watched as the guards who’d escorted the crown prince into town appeared around the corner, coming from the direction of the stables. Attendant Cho led them, his hand on the reins of a masterless horse that Yoongi could only assume was either the crown prince’s or the guard who stood quietly beside him.

Turning back to the crown prince, Yoongi bowed. “It was nice to meet you. I can only hope we do not meet again in less than pleasant circumstances.”

Crown Prince Lee returned his bow. “I wish the same.”

As he straightened, he stepped further into the street to meet his horse and Yoongi shifted to allow him room. The movement caused him to turn back towards the crowd, coming face to face with a man clutching a bow. For a moment, he paused, confused by why he caught his attention. It was a small town, it wasn’t unheard of for someone to be carrying a bow or sword around, but something in his expression seemed off. Yoongi met his eyes, and, as the man lifted his arm, panicked.

Most people, when they panic, would freeze. Yoongi had always assumed he would do the same. He did not. Instead, he grabbed the crown prince’s robes and tugged harshly, sending the man sprawling to the ground. Before he could yell in anger or call for his guards, Yoongi followed him around, using his weight to spin until he was in front of him, his back to the bow and arrow-wielding man.

He heard the impact more than he felt it. He couldn’t believe how loud it was. Such a solid sound, kind of like when he’d spent his afternoons smacking a hay-filled dummy with a wooden sword to practice his forms. He barely registered the pain—was this shock?—even as warmth dripped down his chest. He just whipped his head around, meeting the frantic eyes of his own guards. “Bring me that man. Now.”

Snapping to action, two guards took off down the road, clearly following after where the man had run off to. Yoongi watched them go, frowning. “Why didn’t they do that without an order?”

“Oh my god, Yoongichi! What the— come here!” Seokjin’s voice broke through the static in his ears. Had he been having trouble hearing? 

“I’m fine.”

“You are bleeding,” Seokjin yelled, his hands coming to Yoongi’s shoulder where the arrow had pierced through muscle and bone to protrude on the other side. He pressed down, clearly trying to stem the bleeding, and that is when Yoongi registered the pain. He heard himself cry out, felt his legs tremble, and then Seokjin was dragging him off, snapping orders to anyone around him. No one questioned who gave him the authority, no one even hesitated. They all jumped to action and did as he said.

“The crown prince…” Yoongi mumbled, belatedly realizing he hadn’t checked to see if the man was okay.

“He’s fine,” Seokjin assured him, pushing him into a chair. “His guard swarmed him the second you pushed him down. They were too late to stop the arrow though. Useless.”

“Coulda been worse,” Yoongi observed. Were his words slurring? They felt slurred.

Seokjin sighed, the sound wet and uneven. “This is going to hurt, Yoongi.”

“Wha— FUCK!” Yoongi screamed, crying out as Seokjin broke off the end of the arrow and pulled it the rest of the way through. Yoongi felt his vision swim, felt his body sway. It was only a small wound—his father had sustained far worse in battle—he should be fine. He should be—

Seokjin caught Yoongi as his body went limp, his shaking, blood-covered hands cradling him gently. There was so much blood. It felt like too much blood, why was he bleeding so much? Why had he put himself in the path of the arrow? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Seokjin hadn’t seen it this way. Even then, why hadn’t Seokjin noticed the assailant and stopped him? He had protective magic, that’s literally all he had, why hadn’t he cast something on Yoongi before the meeting? Why—

“Court Witch Seokjin?”

“Yes?” Seokjin answered, tearing his eyes away from Yoongi’s slack face to look at the door. “What?”

Attendant Cho swallowed. “Crown Prince Lee has been secured in his private room with his guards. We’ve called for a doctor just in case your— just in case.”

“Get me a basin and warm water to clean the blood.”

With a bow, Attendant Cho left to do as he was asked. Seokjin returned his attention to Yoongi and placed a hand over the wound. Closing his eyes, Seokjin prodded Yoongi’s vitals with his magic, making sure he was stable. Finding that he was, Seokjin focused his energy on Yoongi’s wound, stitching it together. It’d been decades since he’d used healing magic—it took a lot of energy—but it came back to him naturally, flowing through his veins and into Yoongi. 

He kept his attention on his own magic and the feeling of Yoongi’s shoulder under his hands until Attendant Cho returned with the water and cloth, though Seokjin realized he hadn’t asked for a cloth in his haste. Attendant Cho set it down beside him silently, his eyes on Yoongi as he joined him to kneel on the floor. He looked worried and upset. From what Seokjin knew of the man, he’d been in charge of managing Yoongi’s affairs since he’d started taking on his princely roles. Seokjin assumed that meant the man had known Yoongi a long time. “I’m going to heal him. He’ll be okay. See?”

At his words, Seokjin removed his hand. He’d meant to show Attendant Cho that the wound was healing, but instead, he showed him the same wound as before, though the bleeding had slowed due to natural clotting. Seokjin made a distressed sound. “What— why— it didn’t work.”

Attendant Cho looked at him sharply. “What do you mean it didn’t work?”

“I mean it didn’t work. The healing— it didn’t— give me your hand!” Seokjin ordered. As soon as he did so, Seokjin reached out and grabbed the man’s finger, breaking it with a hard pull. Before Attendant Cho could even scream, Seokjin funnelled his healing magic, just as he had with Yoongi, into his hand. Within a few minutes, it healed. Seokjin looked back at Yoongi, panic practically leaking from his pores. “Why isn’t it working?”

Chapter Text

It had taken Attendant Cho a solid fifteen minutes to get over the fact that Seokjin had both broken his finger and healed it without warning. Seokjin couldn’t fault him. Or he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t been in the middle of an all-out breakdown. He knew, in theory, that Yoongi would survive the wound even if he couldn’t heal him, but Seokjin couldn’t get over the fact that his magic wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working? 

Once Attendant Cho had pulled himself together, he’d all but dragged Seokjin off Yoongi, ordering him to stay out of the way so the doctor could step in. Seokjin hadn’t even realized the doctor had arrived.

Seokjin was loath to admit he seemed good at his job. He worked quickly, using the water Seokjin had requested to clean the wound, before stitching it closed, applying some medicines, and wrapping it securely. Yoongi hadn’t woken up once during the process and, even now, as Seokjin sat in the corner of the room, Yoongi remained unconscious—though he was now on his bed. The doctor had spouted some nonsense about shock and blood loss and whatever but Seokjin wasn’t listening.

Why hadn’t he been able to heal him?

Why could he conjure a fucking useless hummingbird to make Yoongi smile but not be able to— Seokjin straightened. The hummingbird that had exploded when it touched Yoongi. The same Yoongi who broke his talisman seals simply by touching them. The same Yoongi with bright blonde hair bestowed on him by the blessings of a witch. 

Fuck.

Was Yoongi immune to magic?

Seokjin rubbed his face. He didn’t know enough about blessing children to know if that was common. He supposed it could be an unfortunate side effect of a spell meant to do good. If, say, the witch had cast a spell to prevent anyone from using magic to curse or manipulate him, it could end up blocking all types of magic. That wasn’t unheard of. Seokjin had ended up doing something similar when he’d helped bespell Taehyung’s cottage. He’d only meant to make the plant life weave through Taehyung’s home but the trees had ended up doing so as well. Taehyung had thought it was funny even as Seokjin yelled at a tree-like it would suddenly back away from his angry voice.

How was he supposed to protect Yoongi if he was immune to magic? Was there even a way to check? Seokjin closed his eyes, trying to remember any and all of the spells he’d cast around Yoongi. There had been the sealing talisman, which Yoongi broke. The tracing spell that had heard Yoongi’s voice and imploded— a voice that had carried through a silencing spell. The predictions had gone okay even when he’d been close though, so that was positive. But the hummingbird had run from Yoongi’s touch and exploded the second he’d managed to lay a finger on it. And now the healing magic didn’t work.

The only logical explanation was that Yoongi was immune to magic.

Seokjin crossed his arms, pursing his lips. Most witches were immune to the magic of other witches by default but in a much less aggressive way than Yoongi seemed to be so he wasn’t sure exactly how to go about working around it. Because he would work around it. He was going to heal Yoongi if it was the last thing he did.

He just needed to figure out how. He could cast magic on himself if he needed since his body recognized his own magic but Yoongi didn’t have magic. Did he? Seokjin hesitated a moment, his eyes drifting to Yoongi’s still motionless form on the bed. Yoongi didn’t practice magic, obviously, and he didn’t seem to have any special connection to the natural world, but then again, he had said he liked the comforting atmosphere of the garden, just as Seokjin did, so maybe that was something? 

Pushing himself up, Seokjin moved to Yoongi’s side and sat down on the edge of the bed. He placed his palm on Yoongi’s chest and once again prodded Yoongi’s vitals with his magic. This time, however, he wasn’t looking for signs of health, he was looking for signs of magic. He wasn’t even entirely sure what he was looking for but he figured he’d know it when he found it.

For what felt like hours, Seokjin focused on Yoongi’s energy. He didn’t feel anything unusual, nothing outside what a normal human felt like anyway. He frowned, wondering if he’d been mistaken, when he felt a surge through his palm. Gasping, Seokjin opened his eyes, meeting the hazy gaze of Yoongi who was looking at him in confusion. Seokjin’s mouth opened but no sound came out. Now that Yoongi was conscious, Seokjin could feel it. The magic wasn’t strong, barely a feeble beat underneath the sound of his blood pumping, but it was there. 

Yoongi had magic.

♔♔♔

Yoongi’s memory was spotty at best. He remembered pushing the crown prince down—gods, he hoped that didn’t come back to bite him—and then a lot of pain. More pain than he’d ever felt before. After that, it was almost entirely blank. There was an image in his mind, a blurry one of Seokjin looking down at him with shock on his face, but Yoongi couldn’t place it. Mostly because it had looked like it had been in his room and that didn’t make sense.

“Your Highness? Are you awake?”

Grimacing, Yoongi nodded and shifted, intent on sitting up, but before he could move, there were unfamiliar hands on him. “Let me help.”

“Fine,” Yoongi agreed, prying his eyes open. He met the soft, kind gaze of an equally unfamiliar man. “Who are you?”

“Doctor,” the man said simply. “You’ve been unconscious for several hours and I’ve been monitoring you.”

Yoongi sighed in thanks when the doctor leaned him against the wall behind the bed. Without asking, the doctor moved his robes out of the way and began unwinding a part of the bandage to check on the wound. It throbbed painfully but it wasn’t as bad as it had been before. “It’s not bad, right?”

The doctor paused and looked at him. “Define ‘bad.’”

“I…” Yoongi trailed off. He’d literally never been wounded before, he had no idea what, exactly, ‘bad’ meant in terms of an injury. “It’ll heal?”

“With time,” the doctor said after a moment, his expression pinched. “It’ll always hurt though. The arrow tore through too many muscles and ligaments. It’ll probably never be back to what it was before. Thankfully, the witch removed the arrow properly so that prevented further damage, but at this point, it’s anyone’s guess how much pain or stiffness you’ll suffer from later.”

Yoongi blinked. How the hell had he managed to suffer from a life-long injury while on a glorified fact-finding mission when his father had fought an entire war without allowing himself to suffer the same. And passed out. From a non-fatal wound. For hours. “Okay.”

“I can practically hear your mind working,” the doctor mused, a long-suffering sigh following the words. He shook his head as he re-wrapped the bandage and sat back. “You were lucky that the arrow didn’t hit anything major. Don’t act like this wound is nothing.”

“Okay,” Yoongi said again, feeling mildly called out by the doctor. “Can I move around?”

The doctor sent him another tired look then nodded. “Slowly and carefully. I’d recommend a sling but something tells me you wouldn’t wear it. Don’t move your shoulder or you could reopen the wound.”

“I won’t,” Yoongi promised, glossing over the mention of a sling. “On your way out can you have someone send Attendant Cho in?”

“Yes,” the doctor agreed, helping Yoongi up and out of bed as he stood up himself. He didn’t look overly pleased with Yoongi’s decision to leave his bed or move around at all, but he seemed to know better than to argue. Perhaps someone had told him that Yoongi was stubborn. “Are you going to change?”

Yoongi glanced down at himself, realizing that someone had changed him into clean robes, and shook his head. “Won’t risk it.”

“Smart man,” the doctor observed. Yoongi couldn’t help but hear something like a threat underlying his words. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

After he left, Yoongi moved slowly to his table. It wasn’t the way he’d left it but as he squinted at the area, he vaguely remembered being sat in the chair and stripped down. Yoongi grimaced again. He didn’t like being out of control like that. Who had even stripped him? Yoongi lifted his non-injured arm to rub his face, his fingers automatically moving up and weaving through his hair, somewhat thankful that someone had taken it out of the formal bun he’d worn for the meeting. He could practically feel the tension headache he’d have if it had been left up.

“Your Highness, you asked for me?” Attendant Cho greeted, stepping into the room.

“Yes. Is Crown Prince Lee okay? Did the guards catch the shooter?” Yoongi asked.

Attendant Cho nodded. “He’s fine. Livid, but fine. The shooter is secured in a room near the cellar for now. No one has questioned him yet.”

“Pushing him down seemed like a good idea at the time,” Yoongi managed, wincing a bit at that potential political nightmare while filing away the knowledge that his attacker was waiting to be questioned.

“He’s not mad about that. He’s mad you took an arrow for him. He’s demanded to see you every hour on the hour since the court witch dragged you away,” Attendant Cho revealed.

“There’s no evidence the arrow was for him. I only moved him to stop his father from using any injury as an excuse. I’ll go see him no— wait, Seokjin dragged me away?” Yoongi asked, blinking rapidly.

Attendant Cho nodded slowly, his eyes on Yoongi’s face like he was concerned for his memory. Which, considering he didn’t remember that at all, was a fair reaction. “Yes. He tried to heal you but it didn’t work. The doctor came in after that.”

Yoongi had a million questions about why Seokjin’s magic hadn’t worked but he knew they were best directed at Seokjin. “Where is he now?'“

“He ran out of here a few hours ago and has been sealed in the garden ever since. No one can enter. It seems he’s locked it somehow.”

Though he wanted to go see Seokjin right away, he knew he couldn’t. His duties came first. “Take me to the crown prince.”

Attendant Cho’s eyes swept over Yoongi briefly. “Now?”

“I figure getting shot with an arrow is a good enough excuse to dress a little less formally, don’t you?” Yoongi asked, slowly moving toward the door. Attendant Cho simply nodded and shifted out of the way so Yoongi could walk past.

Once they were outside his room, however, Yoongi fell back, letting Attendant Cho lead the way since he wasn’t entirely sure where the crown prince had ended up after the incident. The process was slow. Yoongi had never realized how much impact walking had on his shoulder. Even if he wasn’t moving it, every step felt like a sharp jolt and it made his feet move slower and slower, trying to limit the pain. Thankfully, Attendant Cho seemed to be aware of his orders to relax and move slowly because he matched his steps to Yoongi’s easily.

Yoongi didn’t need to be told when they arrived at the right part of the residence. There were guards standing at the entrance. Any other time, Yoongi would bristle at the show of power in his own home, especially considering these guards were not even from this country, but he understood why it had been done—and why his own staff likely hadn’t argued.

The second the guards saw Yoongi, their eyes widened and one of them spun on his heel, moving quickly to the door. He knocked briefly then stepped inside, clearly announcing that Yoongi was present. The other guard simply stared at him, his eyes bouncing between his undone hair and the edge of the bandage peeking out from under his robes. Yoongi raised a brow, waiting for him to comment, but he didn’t.

“Prince Min, if you’d come in?” A voice called.

Yoongi glanced at Attendant Cho. “Wait here.”

“Your High—”

“Here,” Yoongi repeated, walking past the guard and toward the room without another word. He paused to scan the inside of the room when the guard who’d called him over opened the door wider. Half of the guards the crown prince had brought with him were inside. Yoongi assumed the rest were stationed around the residence as a reaction. He’d have to check after he left. “Crown Prince Lee. I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“Nothing injured but my pride,” the crown prince mused, standing from where he’d been seated. “I must say, you don’t look very well.”

Yoongi hummed, his steps slow and measured as he made his way inside. He glanced at the cushion on the floor and then decided better of it. “I’ve been better.”

Crown Prince Lee snorted. “I can imagine. Does your witch not do healing magic?”

For a moment, Yoongi blinked in surprise, then he remembered the crown prince’s mother and shook his head. “I’ll be seeing him after this. I wanted to come to see you first. I’m told you’ve been asking for me.”

“Well, you did quite literally step in front of an arrow for me!” Crown Prince Lee huffed.

“If you wish to think of it that way, you can. I was thinking less of what could happen to you and more about what could happen to my people.”

Crown Prince Lee met his eyes and raised a brow. “That was quite honest.”

“I’m injured,” Yoongi said mildly as if that was a defence.

Smiling, the crown prince shook his head. “My name is Dongha.”

“I’m aware,” Yoongi said slowly. His full name had been in the letter they’d received, even if Yoongi had only been using his clan name up until now.

“You can use it,” Dongha granted, waving to the seat Yoongi had yet to take. “Will you sit?”

Yoongi glanced down again. “I’m quite honestly not sure if I can get up again without jarring my shoulder so I’ll have to decline. You may call me Yoongi if you wish.”

Dongha inclined his head. “So, Yoongi, what of the man who shot you?”

“I’m told he’s being held downstairs. I had assumed that’s where the rest of your guards were,” Yoongi admitted. He wasn’t entirely sure what the process was when dealing with foreign dignitaries you’d almost died to protect so he was just going to be honest. If that wasn’t the way to go, his father and brother could yell at him when he returned to the palace.

“They were not allowed to move about the city nor the residence. Those who are not here are with the horses as they were before.” Yoongi raised a brow. He hadn’t given that order. Dongha noticed and explained, “Your court witch made his wishes very clear and most of the staff were not in a place to question them. Given the situation, I’ve decided to overlook the slight.”

“Magnanimous of you,” Yoongi murmured with a small sigh. What a mess.

“That being said, I would appreciate being present when the assailant is questioned,” Dongha said. His words were polite but his tone was hard.

“Have you sent word you will be here longer?” Yoongi asked.

Dongha raised a brow. “I have. They will expect me at the nearest encampment tomorrow.”

Yoongi nodded. “Then I will see what I can do about being healed and then, tomorrow, you can join me in questioning the attacker. Depending on what he tells us, we can discuss next steps.”

“You’re willing to give him to me?” Dongha guessed, clearly surprised.

“Perhaps. We’ll see what he says,” Yoongi hedged. “Sometimes a gesture of good faith can go a long way.”

Dongha watched him for a moment then nodded. “Then I will see you tomorrow.”

Yoongi bowed, the motion haphazard and sloppy, but it was the best he could manage without using one arm. No one commented. “Tomorrow then.”

♔♔♔

Seokjin was, completely understandably, jittery. He’d been crash-testing spell ideas for the past several hours in hopes of finding a way for Yoongi to be healed by his magic despite his apparent immunity due to his own magic. Seokjin still couldn’t believe it. He’d never sensed it before but, in his defence, he’d also never checked. Even with Yoongi’s hair acting as a massive sign that he’d been touched by magic, it never occurred to him that Yoongi could also have it. Not even Yoongi breaking his talismans had made him consider it. And yet he did have magic. Untapped, very weak magic, but magic all the same. Not enough to do anything with but enough to stop Seokjin from doing anything for him.

Groaning, Seokjin fell back until he was laying on the path, his eyes drifting over the leaves above him and the sky that peeked through the branches. What good was a witch if that witch couldn’t even protect one man? He’d never felt more useless in his life. All he could do was think back to the version of himself that had taken comfort in the fact that, while he didn’t have offensive magic, he did have healing spells so he could heal at least. The version of himself that promised Namjoon he would keep Yoongi safe.

Gods, Namjoon was going to murder him. No one would ever find his body. If Jimin didn’t get to him first that is. Seokjin had a visceral image of himself getting buried in Jimin’s flower garden while Namjoon and Jungkook watched. He was sure the mysterious Jung Hoseok could smooth over his departure with the council; he’d shown he was good at using his father’s influence to his advantage.

Seokjin pushed himself up abruptly, shaking his body angrily. Now was not the time for a pity party! He couldn’t very well rewrite the laws of magic if he was spending all his time worrying about what four frankly terrifying court officials would do to him once he returned to the palace.

“Seokjin?”

For once, Seokjin wasn’t surprised that Yoongi broke his sealing talisman. He was, however, surprised that Yoongi was awake and moving around. He jumped up immediately, darting to his side to make sure he was okay. His hands ended up hovering awkwardly around Yoongi’s body—he’d touched him so freely while he was unconscious but now that felt weird.

Wow, that did not sound the way you wanted it to.

“Yoongichi! Are you okay? Why are you up? Let’s go back to your room. We can—”

“I want to get some fresh air,” Yoongi interrupted, meeting Seokjin’s eyes firmly. “Please.”

Seokjin bit his lip but nodded. He stepped back, guiding Yoongi down the steps of the porch slowly. Yoongi paused at the bottom then turned away from him and sat on the edge of the porch. The movement was awkward and stilted but Seokjin realized it must be easier for him to sit when he only had to bend his legs a little. Seokjin joined him and dropped down on the ground. “How are you feeling?”

“I’d feel better if you were at the same level as me,” Yoongi admitted, looking down at Seokjin.

“Oh. Okay,” Seokjin agreed, standing up and taking a seat beside Yoongi on the porch. He had to turn himself halfway around to see Yoongi’s face like this but that was okay. It did bring him close enough to his wounded shoulder that it made Seokjin’s brows furrow. “Does it hurt?”

Yoongi hummed. “Yes. Every step I take is like another stab to the same place.”

“Then why aren’t you resting in bed!?” Seokjin snapped.

“Duty calls,” Yoongi said simply, his eyes sliding to the side so he could look at Seokjin.

Seokjin huffed, as Yoongi had known he would. “I think your duties can wait until a full day has passed after someone shot you with an arrow!”

“Perhaps,” Yoongi murmured. “I’m told you brought me to my room and took it out.”

“You don’t remember?” Seokjin asked hesitantly.

Yoongi shook his head, the movement abrupt and harsh. “No. I— I remember very little clearly. It’s all… hazy.”

“I see,” Seokjin managed, then deciding to lighten the mood added: “You didn’t do anything embarrassing. Except…”

Worried now, Yoongi’s eyes widened as he turned to face Seokjin fully. “What?”

“You called me hyung!” Seokjin revealed, smiling with more mirth than he felt. In reality, when Yoongi had awoken as he was checking for his magic and he’d smiled up at Seokjin, a soft ‘hyung’ falling from his lips, Seokjin was sure his heart stopped. He’d never been filled with such an intense amount of desire and fear at the same time. Desire because he’d never thought Yoongi would use such an informal address for him and fear because how far gone was Yoongi that he was calling him hyung!? The answer to the latter was apparently that he was very far gone.

“I—” Yoongi broke off, his entire face turning bright red. It made Seokjin blink in surprise. That wasn’t exactly the reaction he’d expected. He’d thought Yoongi would be embarrassed but this… wasn’t that. Yoongi looked away from him and cleared his throat. “I did?”

“Yup. When I checked on you in bed,” Seokjin explained.

For some reason that made Yoongi look back at him. “In my room?”

“Yes?”

Yoongi nodded slowly. “So that did happen.”

Seokjin tilted his head. “You remember that?”

“A bit? It’s just a blurry image of you looking down and the feeling of warmth on my chest. I didn’t think it was real,” Yoongi murmured.

“Ah,” Seokjin managed. “That warmth was my magic.”

Yoongi shot him a look and then turned away, his attention on the garden in front of them. “They also told me your magic didn’t work on me.”

“No,” Seokjin agreed. “It didn’t. Doesn’t. I don’t think it ever did.”

Frowning, Yoongi pursed his lips. “I know the talismans for your doors don’t work.”

“The silencing spells don’t either and the hummingbird I—” Seokjin stopped, not really wanting to get into what was still an undiscussed moment. “The bird illusion blew up too. My healing not working was what made me draw the connection.”

For a long time, Yoongi didn’t say anything. Seokjin figured that was a lot to take in so he let him process it. Once it had been several minutes, however, he chanced a look at Yoongi. He wasn’t sure what he expected but red-faced Yoongi wasn’t it. “You okay?”

“The silencing spells don’t work for me?” Yoongi asked, his voice strained.

“Doesn’t seem so. I didn’t realize it at the time but when my tracing spell blew up, it happened right after I heard your voice through my door. I shouldn’t have been able to. I couldn’t hear anyone else. You seem to be immune.”

“Oh,” Yoongi whispered, one hand practically smacking himself in the face as he grew even redder. Seokjin was more than a little concerned. He’d already lost so much blood, it couldn’t be good if it all rushed to his face.

So, Seokjin tried to reassure him. “I’m sure it’s fine. It’s hard to discern secrets from a one-sided conversation.”

Yoongi made a weak sound. “Right.”

“Are you okay? Does your shoulder hurt more?” Seokjin asked, wondering if perhaps that was why Yoongi was acting so weird.

“It’s fine,” Yoongi mumbled, dropping his hand. “So, I’ll have to heal the old-fashioned way.”

Seokjin hesitated at the change in topic but answered anyway. “If I can’t work around it, yes.”

“Work around it?” Yoongi repeated, still not looking at him. His face was still red but not as dark as before. “You can work around immunity?”

“Well, no,” Seokjin admitted, wondering how much he should say. Yoongi had been through so much today and he didn’t want to add to it. On the other hand, he felt like Yoongi deserved to know. “But you’re a special case.”

“Why?” Yoongi asked bluntly.

Seokjin sighed, his fingers seeking out a long blade of grass that had managed to grow through the slats of wood. He plucked it and began to peel it apart. “Do you remember how I said witchcraft isn’t hereditary but based on a connection to the natural world?”

“Yes?” Yoongi confirmed. His memory wasn’t that bad. They’d only discussed that this morning.

“There is another way,” Seokjin said slowly, his eyes fixed on his own fingers. “Sometimes it can be passed down or shared in the form of… gifts. Like a curse but more positive.”

Yoongi furrowed his brows, his earlier embarrassment melting away as he looked at Seokjin in horror. “You aren’t giving me your magic, Seokjin!”

Seokjin laughed weakly then dropped the now destroyed blade of grass. “I don’t have to. You already have magic, Yoongichi. That’s why you’re immune. All witches are immune to the magic of other witches.”

“That… doesn’t make sense. And you’re not immune! The spell on the letter hurt you!” Yoongi pointed out.

“The spell was meant to react to the power of another witch. That’s the only reason it did. That was the point. If she had tried to cast a spell on me or something, it wouldn’t have worked,” Seokjin explained. “I checked, Yoongichi. That warm feeling you felt that I said was my magic… that was me checking. When you woke up, your magic flared and met mine. That’s why it was warm.”

“But I— that’s not—” Yoongi started and stopped, unsure what to say. “I’ve never…”

“It’s weak. Barely there. I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been looking for it,” Seokjin admitted. “It’s honestly just enough to prevent me from helping you.”

Yoongi made an aborted gesture with his good arm then let it fall to his lap. “You said you could work around it.”

“Maybe,” Seokjin allowed. “I’m not sure how but I’ve been trying. I’ll figure out a way to heal you, Yoongichi. I promise.”

Not bothering to address that promise since they both knew how flimsy it was, Yoongi blinked slowly, his eyes staying closed much longer than necessary. “You think the witch that blessed me did this.”

It was only then that Seokjin remembered he hadn’t ever told Yoongi who that witch was. He hadn’t had the chance with everything that was going on. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to go over well but he knew he had to tell him everything. “The queen, yes.”

Yoongi snapped around so aggressively that his wounded shoulder moved with him. Immediately, Yoongi crumpled forward, letting out a sobbing breath as the pain flared. Seokjin reached for him, one hand grabbing his face and the other rubbing soothingly over his good shoulder. Yoongi’s breath hiccupped a few times as he breathed through the pain, his eyes squeezed shut. Seokjin ignored the wetness of his lashes and kept rubbing gently, his thumb ghosting over Yoongi’s cheekbone.

After a few minutes, Yoongi let out a long breath and opened his eyes. They were glassy, as the wetness of his lashes suggested, and concerned. “What’s going on, Seokjin?”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin answered honestly.

“Why would she— how—” Yoongi halted, a harsh breath escaping his nose. “I don’t know how to handle this. I’m not— this isn’t what I was trained for..”

“No, me neither,” Seokjin agreed, “but I’m an expert in magic and you’re an expert in politics. I think that makes us the best possible team, right?”

Yoongi lifted his eyes slowly, meeting Seokjin’s comforting gaze. It was the same look he’d seen before Seokjin had kissed him. Seokjin always seemed to look at him so softly. He didn’t know what he’d be doing, how he’d be handling this situation, without Seokjin here. Every other person in his life had wanted him to do something for them. Seokjin wanted to do something for him. Yoongi bit his lip. “Hyung.”

Seokjin made a choked-off sound. “Um, yes?”

“I wanted you to kiss me,” Yoongi admitted, not looking away from Seokjin.

“I know you did,” Seokjin said softly, “but I also know there’s a lot of things I don’t have to think about that you do. I understand.”

“I don’t want to think about those things. I just… want something for me,” Yoongi revealed, letting his earlier wishes, those he’d held close before he’d ended up fucking shot by an arrow, out. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to have that. Not publicly.”

Seokjin’s eyes flicked between Yoongi’s. “What if I was okay with privately?”

Yoongi’s lips pressed together, his eyes brightening in a way that made Seokjin’s heart swell. “Yea?”

“Yea,” Seokjin confirmed, his thumb sweeping down to rest at the edge of Yoongi’s mouth. “But you’re in pain and who knows how many medicines have been forced into you. I want— I want us to talk about this again later. After you’re healed.”

Though Yoongi didn’t seem thrilled by that, he nodded. “I’ll hold you to that. A promise to a prince is a very weighty thing.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

Chapter Text

Crown Prince Lee Dongha considered himself to be a patient man, if a bit easily irritated. As he watched Yoongi stare blankly at the man who’d shot him with an arrow, he realized he was not. At least not compared to Yoongi.

When they had arrived at the makeshift holding cell where the assailant was being held, Yoongi had asked a few questions, mostly about who he was and why he’d attacked. The man had said nothing. It didn’t go unnoticed by either of them that the man was wearing the same traditional clothing Dongha had noticed the day prior. It was clear that his intention had always been to hit Yoongi and to have the fault fall on Dongha and his country. This made him very angry. It took all his years of training to stop himself from snapping and having one of his guards remove the man from his presence. Permanently.

Yoongi, however, just stopped asking questions and proceeded to stare at him. After some time, a guard brought in something for them to sit on. Dongha couldn’t help but notice they were high enough that Yoongi didn’t have to lower himself much to sit properly. He’d bet his title that someone had ordered it made—or the witch had conjured it. Regardless, the new seat just allowed Yoongi to stare at him more comfortably. As he sat, he took a small scroll out of a pocket and set it on his lap. He didn’t open it, didn’t bring attention to it, just set it down and continued staring.

The silence was stifling. Even his own guards began to shift, uncomfortable by the lack of conversation in the room. Dongha briefly wondered if this was a torture technique he wasn’t aware of. It seemed rather effective. 

He was sure that if this man was a trained soldier, it wouldn’t have worked, but it was clear that he was not. First of all, his aim had been poor—he’d only hit Yoongi because he’d moved into the path of the arrow. Second of all, his hands and skin bore the signs of a lifelong farmer, of someone used to holding harvesting tools, not a sword or bow. That and the fact that he kept glancing at the document, his eyes moving quickly back and forth like he was trying to understand what information Yoongi could possibly have that he wasn’t using.

Dongha wasn’t exactly sure how long it took but the guards had switched out once during the long, extended silence so that had to mean it was a long time. There were no windows in this room, making time feel nonexistent. 

“Those clothes aren’t yours,” Yoongi finally observed softly, his eyes dipping to the robes the man wore.

“Yes, they are,” he denied immediately, speaking for the first time. His words were rushed, like he was thankful that someone was saying something again.

Yoongi’s lips quirked up though his expression was cold. “No. They’re not. They don’t fit. Your shoulders aren’t that wide nor your arms that long.”

The man’s head whipped to the side, inspecting the seam of his own robe closely. Dongha raised a brow. He hadn’t even noticed, but the seam was much further down the man’s upper arm than it should be. It’d clearly been fitted to a larger man. 

“You’re not from my country,” Dongha added, watching the man panic further. If there had even been a shred of doubt he was untrained, that expression would clear it. He, or rather, whoever had told him to do it, had been relying on a lack of communication between their two countries. A dead or injured prince, regardless of which one of them it was, would result in a war. It wouldn’t matter how little either king wanted to fight then. 

Yoongi shifted, his movement stilted. He’d been sitting still for a very long time and Dongha suspected his arm was starting to protest. It still didn’t make sense to him that the witch hadn’t healed it but when he’d asked, Yoongi had deflected it. He suspected something else was going on there but he wasn’t sure what. His first assumption would be prejudice but he was clearly close to his witch so that didn’t make sense. He, in all honesty, didn’t have a second or third guess. 

“Why don’t I tell you a story and you stop me if you’ve heard it,” Yoongi said after a moment, his head tilting even as he kept his eyes trained on the man’s face. The man flinched as Yoongi lifted the scroll and unrolled it, his eyes never even dipping to the paper as he began to speak, “There’s a farmer. He works hard but not on his own farm. He works for… a well-known, well-respected man, and that sustains his family. It’s not ideal, he’d much rather have his own land, but it’s satisfying work.”

The man shifted, looking away. Yoongi pressed on, “Suddenly that man hears that he’s going to lose everything. Some nasty, power-hungry royal is going to take it all away and for what? His own ego? His own power? The man is horrified, and goes to comfort the owner of the farm to see if there’s anything he can do to help. And, wouldn’t you know it, there is! The owner is convinced that, if he could prove himself in some way, if the royalty would just leave, everything would be okay, it’d go back to normal. If only someone was there to help him,” Yoongi paused, tapping the scroll on his knee. “Have you heard this one?”

“No,” the man mumbled.

“Really?” Yoongi sighed. “I thought it was quite a good one. The man’s wife seems to think so! She was very proud of her husband for going away to help their benefactor. His children couldn’t stop talking about how their father was going to make the big bad man go away.”

The man’s head snapped up. For the first time, real, genuine emotion showed on his face: fear. He shot up from his chair only to be shoved back down by the guards. “Stay away from them!”

“From who? I’m telling you a story. I thought you hadn’t heard it,” Yoongi mused, sighing lightly. “Anyway, the big bad man, as the kids liked to call him, dies at the hands of the righteous farmer and his benefactor returns to his place of honour, using his knowledge of the land and the help of the diverse townspeople to protect the city from the destruction of war. Lives are saved, the benefactor is rewarded for his good work and he, in turn, gives the poor farmer what he always wanted: land to pass down to his children.”

This time, the man kept his mouth shut. Yoongi simply turned to Dongha. “It’s a good story, no? A little predictable with the vilification of royalty and pureness of the peasant, but still good.”

Dongha wanted to roll his eyes. He, admittedly, hadn’t picked up on the cold streak in Yoongi but it was obvious now. Yoongi was pissed and clearly restraining himself. Though his voice was mild, his eyes were hard. “I particularly liked how the farmer got his own land in the end.”

Yoongi hummed. “Me too. So rare for people to give up land when they make their money off it but the benefactor is a good, noble man so why wouldn’t he?”

“Of course he is,” Dongha agreed, his eyes falling to the scroll Yoongi still held. “I’m assuming that report came in this morning?”

“Yes, my men have been investigating most of the night,” Yoongi revealed, handing him the document. Dongha raised a brow but scanned it quickly. As he’d suspected, the story was mostly the same as what Yoongi had said, but with more names and details. It seemed a local politician had planned everything. Dongha handed the report back. “Then this was a waste of time.”

Watching as he stood, Yoongi lifted a shoulder in an aborted shrug and then followed suit, his eyes moving to the man who’d shot him. “I’d hoped he’d confess or offer something to lighten his sentence. Plus, I assumed hearing it firsthand would be better for you.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Dongha acknowledged, turning to leave the room. He had a long trip back and if he wanted to make it by his previously agreed upon time, he’d have to move quickly. 

He stepped through the door just as Yoongi turned to one of the guards remaining in the room. His face was impassive just as it had been before but now there was something like sympathy in his eyes. “Execute him.”

“Your Highness,” the guard agreed, bowing even as the assailant began to scream, begging for mercy, begging for his family, just… begging. 

Yoongi ignored him and joined Dongha in the hallway. He met Dongha’s gaze levelly, as if he expected him to argue, but he simply asked, “His family?”

“They’ll be watched,” Yoongi said after a moment, a slight frown on his lips. “His actions are not theirs but they do believe in what he was doing and killing him is nothing short of making him a martyr.”

“And yet he will be executed anyway,” Dongha pointed out.

Glancing back at the now-closed door through which the man’s screaming could still be heard, Yoongi sighed. “Treason is treason, regardless of future issues.”

Dongha hummed. “That it is.”

“You’ll be leaving now?” Yoongi asked as he began to walk towards the stairs that led to the main level. 

Dongha fell into step behind him and nodded. “Yes. This will be… a long report to give.”

“Understatement,” Yoongi agreed with a sigh. “At least you’re not the one who got shot. What a nightmare that would be.”

“Understatement,” Dongha echoed, a touch of amusement in his voice. Though it surprised him, he found he liked Yoongi quite a bit. It made him wish, for a moment, that Yoongi would be the king instead as he suspected that would mean the relationship between their countries would only grow stronger when they both took over. He hoped Yoongi’s older brother was just as likable. Though, perhaps there were other ways to cement a bond besides friendship.

“I’ll have my attendant bring your horses around again,” Yoongi said, interrupting Dongha’s thoughts. “Forgive me if I don’t accompany you this time. I’m feeling a bit under the weather.”

Dongha snorted, his hand moving to his mouth to fake a cough when his own men looked at him with shocked eyes. “I understand. Until we meet again, Prince Min Yoongi.”

“Until then, Crown Prince Lee Dongha,” Yoongi returned, bowing as best he could. “It’s been a pleasure.”

Smiling as he returned his bow, Dongha nodded to himself. Yes, there were other ways to cement a bond.

♔♔♔

Seokjin didn’t so much hear the commotion of the crown prince leaving as much as he heard Yoongi talking through his silencing talisman. Now that he knew to expect that, he was less startled by the sound of a voice drifting through the relative silence. He tilted his head to listen, his attention still on the small cut on his own hand. Yoongi’s voice wasn’t very close so he wasn’t coming to see Seokjin, at least not yet, but he knew Yoongi would be here soon.

Flexing his hand, Seokjin wiped off the blood, eyeing the area where the cut had been previously. It was fairly simple to heal himself with his own magic, as he’d suspected. He’d never thought to try before since he’d never been injured enough to bother. Since healing magic took so much energy, it had always seemed like a bad idea to even try—the last thing he needed to do was delay his own natural healing by exhausting himself—but desperate times called for desperate measures.

So, witches could heal themselves. Yoongi, technically, seemed to be a witch so he could heal himself too. Except his healing took a lot of skill and power and Yoongi didn’t have that, so he couldn’t. Unless Seokjin figured out a way to help. 

Seokjin tapped his finger on his knee, his eyes staring forward unseeing. He needed a spell to boost power somehow. Seokjin was sure they existed but he didn’t have any of his books with him so he couldn’t just look it up. Not that he ever really looked things up. He was more of a trial and error style witch but, in this situation, he’d have been willing to hit the books.

A spell to boost power.

A spell to increase power.

A spell to supplement power?

His hand freezing where it had been moving in a steady rhythm while he thought, Seokjin’s eyes darted to the trees and plant life around him. Taehyung. Or rather, Taehyung’s cottage. It was sustained by sharing Taehyung’s magic. Seokjin had shared his own magic to help Taehyung build it because he’d still been fairly young. It wasn’t sharing in the truest sense but perhaps the fundamentals would be the same?

Scrambling up, Seokjin spun around, practically jabbing his finger into the dirt around him so he could draw a circle. He made it double the size he usually did with two center sections from which the lines radiated. He included characters denoting healing and good health, then, after thinking for a moment, the parts of spells he used to direct magic energy throughout the garden to aid him in shifting his magic to Yoongi. He knew there was a spell for giving magic away but that’s not what he wanted to do here so he was adapting on the fly, feeling out the process. Plus, Yoongi had expressed horror at the very idea and Seokjin wasn’t about to put that pressure on him.

When Seokjin was finished, he stood back with a huffing breath. He’d never done something this large and complex before—nor had he done anything that would involve another person that he hadn’t tested out beforehand—but he was sure it would work. Mostly.

Glancing around, Seokjin realized it had grown dark outside while he worked. That made him frown slightly. He’d expected Yoongi to come to see him once he’d handled the crown prince leaving but he was sure that had been hours ago now. It had definitely still been light outside when he’d heard Yoongi ordering some servants to ready the horses.

Seokjin looked back down at his circle. In theory, they could wait until the next day but Seokjin didn’t want to leave Yoongi’s shoulder to heal on its own for any longer than necessary. Plus, he couldn’t imagine what sleeping must be like. No, now was better, no matter what the time was.

With that in mind, Seokjin left the garden, sealing it carefully behind him just in case, and made a beeline for Yoongi’s room. There were more guards in the area than usual, and, given that Seokjin knew no one had ordered them to be there, it made him smile a bit. Even without orders, they were taking it upon themselves to increase their rounds to keep Yoongi safe. He suspected that had just as much to do with their own guilt at missing the attacker in the first place as it did with their affection for the small blonde man.

When he arrived, Seokjin knocked and announced himself. “Yoongichi? It’s Seokjin. I need to see you!”

There was a long pause and then a small old woman Seokjin only vaguely recognized opened the door. She gave him a look that was far more knowing than he’d have liked and bowed. “The prince is just getting out of the bath. If you’d wait a moment.”

Seokjin raised a brow but nodded. “Of course.”

With that, she closed the door again. Seokjin rocked back on his heels and linked his hands behind his back, his attention wandering as he waited. He didn’t have to wait long though. Within a few minutes, the old woman reappeared and stepped outside the room. “You may go in now.”

“Thank you,” Seokjin said, bowing before moving inside and closing the door. He glanced around, immediately looking for Yoongi, who he found, dressed in light robes clearly meant for sleeping and fiddling awkwardly with the end of his ponytail. Seokjin narrowed his eyes, realizing it wasn’t a ponytail but a braid. It wasn’t intricate by any means but it was neat and left his hair loose around his face, bangs Seokjin hadn’t even realized he had slipping out. “Your hair looks pretty.”

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Ah, the old maid did it. She’s quite… forceful.”

Seokjin pursed his lips and moved closer, only then realizing that one of Yoongi’s sleeves was empty too. He reached out and tugged at it, raising a brow. “Oh?”

“She caught me as I was heading out,” Yoongi explained. “I had just written the letters for my brother and father and was going to have them sent off and… come see you. But she stopped me, took the letters, and forced me back up here. Stubborn woman.”

He knew he shouldn’t laugh but he did. “So she made you bathe and wear a sling?”

Yoongi huffed. “Yes. She said it would be good for my wound. I don’t know if she even knows what she’s talking about but before— she’s quite forceful.

Seokjin laughed again, the image of the small old woman he’d met at the door pushing Yoongi around and braiding his hair while Yoongi protested was just too good. He wished he had seen it. He’d pay anything to see it. “Did it help?”

“Yes,” Yoongi admitted, his tone petulant.

“Uh-huh. And I bet the sling makes your shoulder hurt less,” Seokjin added. He knew Yoongi couldn’t wear it over his normal clothes, the royal family couldn’t show weakness—Seokjin thought this was stupid but he knew better than to argue—so he hadn’t pestered Yoongi about it. The old woman apparently had no such qualms. Seokjin decided he liked her quite a bit.

“It does,” Yoongi confirmed, this time sighing slightly.

Seokjin reached up to touch the end of Yoongi’s braid as the other man had done before. He realized then how close they were, like they’d both just naturally gravitated until they were within centimetres of each other, almost touching. “Your hair really does look good. It suits you. I like it down the best though.”

Yoongi’s eyes flitted to Seokjin and away. “I can… take it down.”

“Maybe after,” Seokjin offered with a smile.

“After?” Yoongi repeated, his cheeks tinting red.

Seokjin felt his own breath halt, his mind immediately running to catch up to where Yoongi’s had clearly gone, then shook his head. “I may have a way to heal your shoulder. Will you come to the garden with me?”

Yoongi blinked, off-center for a moment, then nodded. “Of course. Lead the way.”

♔♔♔

After changing into something more appropriate since they were leaving his room, they proceeded to the garden. When they stopped outside the garden for Seokjin to unseal the door, Yoongi realized he’d never seen that happen before. The seals had always just… allowed him in. “How do you make it stop?”

Seokjin glanced at him quickly then lifted his hand and waited. The talisman reappeared on the door, materializing as if it had never dissolved and peeled off, flying back to his hand, dissolving on impact. “Like that.”

“Interesting,” Yoongi murmured, leaning closer. “Why does it dissolve?”

“Its purpose was finished. That’s another reason why I didn’t think it was weird when the hummingbird exploded,” Seokjin’s voice trailed off, his expression turning troubled. “I missed so many signs.”

Yoongi placed a gentle hand on his forearm and squeezed. “There was no way for you to have known.”

“I know but still,” Seokjin sighed out, then shook his head as if shaking off the idea and entered the garden. Yoongi followed him in and Seokjin closed the door behind him and sealed it again with a new talisman. 

Rather than waiting, Yoongi started making his way down the steps, well aware he was still moving slower, even with the sling keeping his shoulder from hurting with every movement. Seokjin caught up with him easily, his hands hovering around Yoongi just in case he wanted extra help. Yoongi sent him a grateful smile but didn’t accept the help.

“So, what’s your plan?” Yoongi asked finally.

Seokjin hesitated a moment then stopped walking, his eyes falling to the circle he’d left drawn on the ground. “This.”

Yoongi followed the direction of Seokjin’s gesture, seeing the circle. His first impression was that it was massive and it looked somewhat lopsided. Yoongi took a step back, frowning slightly. It wasn’t lopsided, it was simply two different circles pressed together. “Two circles?”

“Kinda!” Seokjin agreed, impressed that Yoongi had been paying enough attention to his magic to notice the changes he made. “A witch is immune to the magic of other witches but they aren’t immune to their own.”

“Okay…” Yoongi said slowly, still looking at the circle. He recognized a few characters from the spells Seokjin had been working in the garden so he didn’t really understand. Not until he saw the characters for healing. Oh.“You want me to heal myself.”

“Kinda?” Seokjin said again, a bit more hesitantly. “Healing magic takes a lot of power and knowledge of the process but I was thinking I might be able to… boost your magic?”

Yoongi bit his lip, unsure. It wasn’t so much that he was opposed to using magic, he honestly didn’t care, it was more that he wasn’t sure he could. “Will that work?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Seokjin admitted with a small laugh. “I made this spell by combining a bunch of other ones and there’s literally no way for me to test it first so.”

“I see,” Yoongi murmured, pursing his lips. He could say no, Seokjin wouldn’t push, but he nodded anyway. “Let’s try it.”

Seokjin smiled wide, his eyes crinkling. “Yea? You want to try?”

“It can’t make it worse,” Yoongi said dryly, then shot him a look. “It can’t, right?”

“No, probably not,” Seokjin hedged, laughing when Yoongi’s look shifted into something close to a glare. “I don’t want to guarantee something when I don’t know!”

Yoongi sighed. “Fine, tell me what to do.”

Seokjin laughed at him again then sobered, gesturing to the open space in the center of the circle on the right. “Take a seat there and get comfortable.”

“Does it matter how I sit?” Yoongi wondered, stepping gingerly into the area. He lifted his robes as he did so, careful not to smudge or erase any of the lines or characters.

“Nope. As long as you can sit that way for a long time, it’s fine,” Seokjin explained, once again offering his hand to help Yoongi down. This time, Yoongi accepted the hand and grabbed on, slowly lowering himself. Once he was on the ground, he rested his weight on the backs of his heels, settling into a kneeling position. Seokjin double-checked that nothing had been altered then took up his own position in the left circle, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his knees. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Yoongi replied.

Seokjin smiled slightly then took a deep breath. “Okay. A lot of this is just intuition, so I need you to concentrate on yourself, try and feel your magic within yourself.”

Yoongi bit his lip, closing his eyes to concentrate. Seokjin watched his brow furrow the longer he remained quiet. He could tell that Yoongi was trying but he could also tell it wasn’t working. Yoongi seemed to realize that too around the same time. “I’m sorry I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

Nodding, Seokjin held out his hand. “Take my hand.”

Without hesitation, Yoongi placed his hand in Seokjin’s palm, watching him patiently. Seokjin really wasn’t sure how to teach this, he’d never even thought about taking on an apprentice, but he figured maybe showing was better. So, he channelled his power through his body, scanning Yoongi’s vitals as he’d done before. Yoongi twitched visibly, his brows furrowing again, but he didn’t say anything. Next, Seokjin moved deeper, hoping Yoongi’s magic would meet him as it had before. He didn’t actually know how to find it because Yoongi’s magic had found him. It took a few minutes, then that surge hit again and Yoongi’s eyes snapped open in shock, a small gasp falling from his lips. “Oh— what— is that it?”

“Yes,” Seokjin confirmed, smiling softly at the wonder on Yoongi’s face. His magic was rolling, pushing against Seokjin like it was trying to force him out. Seokjin decided to do as it wanted. “I’m going to pull back now. See if you can keep it there.”

Yoongi pushed his lips together, his whole face scrunching as he focused entirely on doing as Seokjin had directed. Nothing happened for a while, then, faintly, a gentle golden glow lit up the inner circle surrounding Yoongi. It was barely visible, easily missed by someone not looking for it, but Seokjin saw it. Yoongi must have felt it because he opened his eyes, glancing down at the colour around him. “Gold again.”

Seokjin touched Yoongi’s hair, noticing the golden glow of his power flare higher as he did so. “It’s your colour.”

“Seems so,” Yoongi agreed, his face relaxing as he seemed to figure out how to keep the power moving from him and into the circle around him. 

“Okay,” Seokjin said, dropping Yoongi’s hair. “Now, I’m going to do the same on my end. Basically, my magic will light up all the remaining lines and, if this works, it’ll connect to yours. Like adding oil to a dim flame.” Yoongi nodded, his face firming again. Seokjin couldn’t help but want to coo at Yoongi’s clear determination to make this work. It was adorable. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Yoongi agreed.

Scanning him one last time, Seokjin closed his eyes and pushed his magic out. He felt it bleed into the circle around him, filling the space as it normally would. When he opened his eyes, only his circle was lit up. He took another breath and pushed harder. His magic faltered, he felt it in his bones, but, ever so slowly, it seeped into the second circle, working towards Yoongi until he was surrounded by bright glowing pink and a gently glowing golden circle. The light flickered on his clothing, on his skin, lighting him up in a truly breathtaking way. Seokjin wanted to kiss him. Instead, he smiled. “Okay. Now, this is the hard part.”

“It wasn’t hard up until now?” Yoongi muttered.

“Harder part,” Seokjin clarified. “You need to focus on your injury and funnel all the magic you feel there. The spell will help since I’ve designed it to direct toward injuries, but you need to focus and picture the area healed, pain-free, and working normally. Don’t think about any of the limitations or issues you were warned about. Just think of it as it was before.”

Yoongi nodded again and closed his eyes. He was clearly mimicking what he’d seen Seokjin do, taking deep breaths and closing his eyes to focus. Seokjin didn’t know if it helped him but he wasn’t going to ask. He just focused on maintaining a steady stream of his magic into the two circles, keeping it moving towards Yoongi. Usually, he’d be able to feel if a spell was working or not, but the second his magic touched Yoongi’s, he couldn’t feel anything. It was a little disconcerting but he ignored it.

For a long time, neither of them said anything. Yoongi was still holding himself stiff, his injured shoulder drooping slightly lower as he unconsciously favoured it, telling Seokjin that the healing either hadn’t started or hadn’t worked. He hoped it was the former—he really didn’t have another plan.

Eventually, Yoongi’s lips started to tremble, his eyes opening to show a defeated look. “I’m sorry, Seokjin. I don’t— I’m not doing it right.”

“Hey,” Seokjin soothed instantly, grabbing his hand to offer comfort. “This is your first—Yoongichi!”

The second Seokjin touched Yoongi, he gasped, the faint golden glow surging as it had before. Only this time, it bled outward, overtaking the small ring around Yoongi and running along the lines Seokjin had previously kept alight. Yoongi’s eyes turned panicked. “I don’t— I’m not—”

“No, this is good!” Seokjin interrupted, shifting to his knees. He slipped his hand into Yoongi’s robe without asking, grabbed the hand supported by the sling so he was holding onto both of them, and squeezed tightly. “Keep going! Focus on your injury, like I said.”

Yoongi’s breathing was ragged but he nodded, the motion jerky and uncoordinated. Seokjin was a little worried but Yoongi did as he’d asked, his hands trembling underneath Seokjin’s as he tried to focus. Seokjin kept his attention on the circles, watching as Yoongi’s magic grew brighter and brighter, as it overtook more and more of the circle. Before long, both circles were entirely golden, the glow brighter than a few dozen lanterns. Seokjin squeezed Yoongi’s hands in response and, unlike before, both hands squeezed back. 

Startled, Seokjin’s head snapped to the hand connected to the injured shoulder. He moved quickly, pulling Yoongi’s robe further open and untying the sling. It slipped off Yoongi’s skin, falling away only to get caught on the edge of Yoongi’s robes. Seokjin grabbed it and pulled it out entirely, tossing it away. He moved to the bandages next, removing them with fumbling fingers. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was surprised that Yoongi hadn’t stopped him, but he was too focused on seeing if it was working to care about propriety.

The bandages were fairly extensive and wrapped around his torso for extra support so Seokjin couldn’t take off all of them but he managed to remove most of the ones directly over the wound so he could remove the patch that had been placed there. 

By the time he pulled the patch away, the wound was already closing, shrinking before his very eyes. Healing magic usually worked its way from the inside out, so Seokjin made a choked-off excited sound, his fingers brushing against the wound over and over until they were gliding on soft, unblemished skin.

“Hyung.”

Seokjin’s head snapped up, his eyes finally leaving the now healed shoulder to meet the bright and happy eyes of Yoongi. “Yoongichi.”

Without another word, Yoongi surged forward, tackling Seokjin into an awkward hug. His one arm was still inside his robes, so the movement forced one side of his robe down and off until it only hung from his uninjured shoulder. “It worked!”

“It did,” Seokjin agreed, falling backward under the impact of Yoongi’s body. “I’m so proud of you. Healing magic is really hard to master. I can’t believe it worked.”

“Thank you, I—” Yoongi broke off, a happy sound that made Seokjin think of a tiny scream leaving Yoongi’s lips. “Hyung, I—”

Seokjin’s arms wound their way around Yoongi’s body, his one hand settling on Yoongi’s naked skin. “It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything. I know it’s a lot.”

“No,” Yoongi managed, wiggling around until Seokjin let him go and settled more firmly onto the ground. The movement made Yoongi fall between Seokjin’s thighs but neither commented. Yoongi only pushed himself up and met Seokjin’s eyes. That happiness was still there but the brightness was replaced with something else. Something that made heat flood Seokjin’s veins. “You said we’d talk when I’m not injured.”

“Yes, but—”

“No,” Yoongi interrupted again. “Stop.”

“Uh, okay?” Seokjin said hesitantly.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Yoongi admitted, taking a deep breath. “I have never— I’ve always made sure that everyone I’ve…  been with has been someone I can escape from, someone I can throw away easily. It was safer that way. Is safer that way.”

“I understand, Yoongichi,” Seokjin soothed.

“But I don’t want you to be like that,” Yoongi continued as if Seokjin hadn’t spoken. “You’ve always been honest—as honest as you can be—with me. You’ve always helped me and been there for me. You’ve always— you always look at me and see me. Not my hair, my title, my money, just… me. I— I want that. This. Please, hyung? Let me have it.”

Seokjin groaned low in his throat. How was he supposed to say no to that? Especially when he didn’t want to in the first place. “You don’t have to ask, Yoongichi. It’s yours.”

Yoongi smiled brightly, his eyes crinkling and gums flashing. Seokjin had a moment, a sense of deja vu, seeing Hyungki smile at his wife the exact same way when he’d told them that they were having a girl. He’d seen then, felt then, that he was viewing pure, unadulterated happiness. He never thought he’d be on the receiving end of such a look but he was. He wished he was brave enough to pause time so he could just stare at that expression for hours, to bask in it. He wouldn’t, it was too risky, but he wanted to. All he could do was lift his hands from the ground and grab Yoongi’s face, practically yanking him back down until their lips met.

For a moment, Yoongi froze, like he had before, and Seokjin panicked, but then Yoongi sagged against him instead of pulling away, his lips opening on a small, pleased gasp as his hands latched onto Seokjin’s robes and held tight. “Hyung.”

“I’m here,” Seokjin whispered against his lips, diving in far too hungrily for the dirty ground of a garden. Perhaps if Yoongi had stopped him, slowed him down, he’d have realized it wasn’t the best place for this, but he didn’t. In fact, Yoongi met him just as eagerly, his lips widening as his tongue pressed against Seokjin’s teasingly. He let out a little groan, a barely-there sound, and Seokjin was mostly sure he was going to die. One hundred years of life, almost as many years of experience, and he was going to be done in by a tiny, blonde, prince, witch on the ground of his own garden. 

And he’d be happy about it too.

Chapter Text

Considering the fact that Yoongi had quite literally jumped on Seokjin in the garden, they walked back towards Yoongi’s room with more leisure than either of them would have thought possible. 

The whole thing felt surreal. 

Seokjin had softly pulled the robe he’d hastily tugged away to check Yoongi’s wound back up and over his shoulder. Yoongi hadn’t been able to stop the teasing ‘never thought you’d put more robes on me’ that slipped from his lips. The look Seokjin had given him was as good as a silencing spell. Yoongi hadn’t been able to open his mouth again. In fact, as they walked back, Yoongi still didn’t speak. He just kept darting quick glances back over his shoulder to where Seokjin was walking, his attention fixed straight ahead.

They passed servants and guards, all bowing before going on with their duties without another pause. Yoongi supposed they’d seen him and Seokjin together enough not to question why the taller man was following Yoongi to his room. 

Their ease at the situation, hell, Yoongi’s own experience with a similar situation, didn’t stop his anxiety from jumping, his pulse beating wildly in his throat. He wanted this so much, he didn’t regret confessing to Seokjin in a mangled rush, but he couldn’t stop that nagging worry from creeping up. He’d lived too long by the same rules for the idea of breaking them not to affect him.

However, the sound of the door sliding shut had a calming effect on him. The entire process of shifting locations had stressed him out, but that door, the barrier against the outside world, closing made all that tension drain away. 

Yoongi turned slowly, his eyes catching Seokjin’s as the older man pulled a rectangle paper from his robes that Yoongi knew immediately was a talisman. He tilted his head, reaching out automatically as Seokjin held it out to him. The second his fingers touched the edges, Seokjin smiled and reached up, cupping Yoongi’s cheek with his free hand. 

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asked quietly.

Seokjin glanced down at the talisman, his attention momentarily diverted as he bespelled it, lighting it up in pink. “It’s a silencing talisman.”

“I know that,” Yoongi admitted—he’d recognized the pattern even if he didn’t know how it worked. “They don’t work, remember?”

“Not mine, no,” Seokjin agreed, his eyes returning to Yoongi. “But I’m willing to bet it will if you add your power to it.”

“Like the circle,” Yoongi breathed out, glancing quickly at the talisman. “Are you sure?”

“No,” Seokjin admitted, leaning forward until his lips brushed against Yoongi’s forehead. Yoongi could feel his breath on his face, practically feel his pulse jumping in the hand against his cheek. “But I want to hear you, Yoongi. Are you willing to try?”

Yoongi’s breath halted, a white-hot heat swooping through his stomach. “Yes. Tell me what to do.”

Seokjin smiled against his skin. “Just do what you did before. Focus on pushing power into the paper.”

“Okay,” Yoongi said firmly. His entire body tensed under Seokjin’s touch, a clear sign he was focusing hard. He felt a small thrum of something under his skin, something he now knew was the magic Seokjin had shown him, and pushed just like Seokjin said. It took more effort than the circle had, which he wasn’t really sure made sense, but after a few minutes, the edges of the talisman, previously glowing pink, dimmed. Yoongi frowned and focused harder, picturing the whole talisman glowing gold instead. The pink continued to dim until the entire talisman was a pale pink colour. Yoongi was a second away from giving up, then the talisman brightened again, a soft rose gold colour illuminating the characters on the talisman. “Oh, it mixed.”

Pulling back, Seokjin furrowed his brows as he looked at the talisman. That hadn’t been what he expected. Yoongi’s golden glow had overtaken his own pink magic in the circle. He’d never heard of two witches’ magic mixing before. Even when he and Taehyung were working on bespelling his cottage, that hadn’t happened. Though it was unusual, Seokjin didn’t feel uncomfortable. The idea that his and Yoongi’s magic was somehow compatible enough to mix was enough to make him want to shove Yoongi against the wall and devour him.

Instead, he gently guided Yoongi’s hand to the door. “Press it against the door with me.”

“Okay,” Yoongi agreed, following Seokjin’s movements.

As with all talismans, at least the ones Seokjin used, it lit up and dissolved into the wood, leaving a faint trace of rose gold magic behind to let him know it was active. With that done, he directed Yoongi around the room to put a few more in place, then, when they were all placed, he returned to the center of the room. “Okay. Done.”

Yoongi bit his lip, his eyes flicking between the various talisman marks on the walls and doors. “How do we know it worked?”

“We test it, of course,” Seokjin told him, smiling softly. “I’ll step outside and then you speak loudly, as loudly as you can. I’ll let you know if I can hear you.”

“Okay,” Yoongi agreed with a firm nod.

He followed Seokjin towards the door, pausing as he slid it open and slipped outside. Seokjin winked at him and then closed the door. Yoongi watched the talisman on the door flash brightly, then he opened his mouth to speak. “Seokjin, can you hear me?”

No answer.

“Hyung? Come back if you can hear me.” Yoongi tried, louder this time.

No answer.

Taking a tentative step forward, Yoongi touched the door. “Can you hear me, hyung?”

Still no answer.

Yoongi let his hand fall from the door, realizing that it had worked. Their mixed magic had not only healed him but allowed them to seal the room for privacy. He could be loud now. Like he’d wanted to be before. 

Since he knew the talisman worked, he should open the door and let Seokjin know he could come back. Instead, he paused, touching the door again. He traced his fingers over the pattern work embedded in the wood, his mind racing. So much had happened in such a short period of time and it made him feel like he was always rushing to catch up. His mind was always racing just behind.

The only thing not lagging behind was his heart.

At least he didn’t think it was. 

Yoongi tapped on the door thoughtfully. “Seokjin… hyung… what would you say if I asked you to never leave me?”

There was no answer of course, but he’d known there wouldn’t be. That was why he’d spoken. It was cathartic in a way: speaking to Seokjin when he couldn’t hear. Like confessing to a sleeping man. 

“If I said…” Yoongi hesitated, unsure. “If I said that I might be falling in love with you, would that be okay?”

Again, no reply. Yoongi wasn’t really sure what he had expected. Maybe a sense of relief after having voiced the tiny, persistent thoughts that had been gnawing at his every waking moment. Maybe a flash of realization jarred loose by speaking his thoughts out loud. 

Neither of those things happened. He still wasn’t sure what he felt for Seokjin. All he knew was that he wanted him to stay, that he enjoyed spending time with him, and that he wanted to sleep with him.

For now, that would have to do.

Taking a deep breath, Yoongi slid open the door with a smile. “Guess you didn’t hear me.”

Seokjin matched his smile. “Not a peep.”

“Then come here,” Yoongi ordered, crooking his fingers at Seokjin as he slowly moved backward, never taking his eyes off him.

“An order from a prince, how could I refuse?” Seokjin murmured, stepping back inside and closing the door. He paused long enough to make sure the talisman activated again then darted forward.

Before Yoongi could do anything, Seokjin was on him, his arms wrapped around his waist and lifting him up, spinning him until his back was facing the bed. Yoongi let out a surprised squeak and grabbed onto Seokjin’s shoulders, an abrupt laugh escaping when Seokjin set him down again. “Why stop halfway?”

“Halfway?” Seokjin repeated, his hands moving from Yoongi’s waist to his neck and hair. Seokjin couldn’t stop himself from tugging on the string binding the braid in place, tossing it over his shoulder when it came undone.

“Why not just throw me on the bed?” Yoongi wondered, smiling slightly as Seokjin gently undid the braid and threaded his fingers through Yoongi’s hair. 

“I’m a gentleman,” Seokjin replied. Yoongi hummed as if he was thinking about it then stepped back letting himself fall back on the bed. Seokjin’s eyes widened, his throat visibly working as Yoongi relaxed back, his hair splayed around him on the blankets. “Who knew the prince was such a tease?”

“The prince isn’t,” Yoongi said thoughtfully, arching his back as he interlocked his hands above his head and stretched. He heard Seokjin make a stuttered sound and smiled. “Yoongi is though.”

“I’ll remember that,” Seokjin promised, closing the distance between them. Or trying. The second he got his knee on the bed, Yoongi moved back and away from him, only stopping when he was resting on the bed properly. Seokjin smiled and followed him, crawling up the bed until he was straddling Yoongi’s thighs. They weren’t undressed, they hadn’t even kissed since getting to the room, but that position made them both freeze, locking gazes. Seokjin tugged at the ends of Yoongi’s hair. “Are you sure, Yoongi?”

Yoongi blinked in surprise then laughed. “Hyung, I’ve been thinking about you fucking me since I saw you in that moonlit courtyard. I’m more than sure. I want this.”

Seokjin raised a brow. “So I’m fucking you then?”

Gaining some confidence, Yoongi lifted his hands and slid them inside the upper layer of Seokjin’s robes. He was wearing far too many, unlike Yoongi who’d only put on one heavier layer after bathing, so it wasn’t skin-to-skin contact, but it was more than he’d ever touched Seokjin before. “This time, if you’d like.”

“Oh, I’m fine with that,” Seokjin assured him. “Just wanted to clarify.”

“But I have a request first.”

“Anything.”

“Kiss me,” Yoongi ordered, tangling his hands in Seokjin’s collar and tugging him down.

Seokjin let himself be pulled, let his body fall and crush Yoongi into the bed, one hand falling to Yoongi’s hip and the other tightening in Yoongi’s hair to force his chin upward. Yoongi gasped softly, his pupils blowing wide at the flash of pain in his scalp. He hadn’t thought he’d like something like that but before he could think too hard about it, Seokjin’s lips were on his and his mind went blank.

It was different from the garden, less desperate and more complete. Yoongi made a small, urgent sound and pushed his head up, causing Seokjin to tug at his hair again. This time he didn’t gasp, he moaned. He felt Seokjin shudder against him, his whole body trembling. “Fuck.”

“Hyung, come back,” Yoongi snapped out the second Seokjin’s lips left his and trailed down his neck. Seokjin didn’t listen to him. He just pushed at the robe, dragging his lips along Yoongi’s shoulder, placing a firm kiss between the bandages where he knew the wound had previously been. 

Slightly irritated that he was being ignored, Yoongi grabbed Seokjin’s head and yanked him back up forcefully. Then, deciding he wanted more, he pushed him up and off too. Before Seokjin could ask what was wrong, Yoongi rolled them, landing on top of Seokjin, who made a shocked sound. “Alright. You’re stronger than you look.”

Yoongi shifted so he was straddling Seokjin’s thighs just as the older man had been doing moments prior, then raised a brow. “I’m a combat-trained prince in charge of thousands of men. Did you think I would be weak?”

Seokjin opened his mouth and then closed it. “I honestly didn’t think about it. You’re so slight that I just…”

“A common misconception,” Yoongi admitted with a careless shrug. “I could break you if I wanted.”

“I—” Seokjin broke off, a flash of heat hitting his system. “You know what? Let’s remember that for another time.”

Yoongi raised his brow again but smiled. “Done.”

“Now where were we?” Seokjin murmured, reaching for Yoongi again.

Only this time, Yoongi pushed his hands away. Seokjin tilted his head in question but Yoongi just ignored him and undid the belt holding his robe in place. Seokjin’s eyes widened again, swallowing as Yoongi carelessly tossed it aside and took off the robe, dropping it on the floor in a heap. He unwound the remaining bandages quickly, thankful he’d put fresh ones on after the bath, and dropped them to the ground as well. “You’re too slow.”

“A mistake, clearly,” Seokjin breathed out, taking in Yoongi’s body. He’d caught sight of some of it when the robe had slipped off his shoulder in the garden but not this much. He was still wearing loose pants but they did little to hide his growing erection. Not that Seokjin was even focusing there. He was too busy taking in the smooth skin and lithe muscles that made up Yoongi’s chest and arms. Like he’d said just before, it was clear he was strong, years of combat training showing itself on his body. Seokjin couldn’t help but touch, gliding his hands up Yoongi’s chest and over his shoulders.

“Now you,” Yoongi ordered even as he leaned into Seokjin’s touch.

“In a moment,” Seokjin promised, surging up until he could capture Yoongi’s lips in another kiss. Yoongi gasped in surprise then latched on, wrapping his legs around Seokjin’s waist and pressing forward in a small, aborted movement. Seokjin groaned against Yoongi’s lips, feeling his ass press down hard on his own hardening dick. 

He dropped his hand to Yoongi’s hips without thinking, urging him forward and then back in a smooth, grinding motion. Yoongi caught on quickly, moving at the pace Seokjin had set, making small circles with his hips every time he pressed back down on Seokjin’s cock. 

Seokjin nipped at Yoongi’s lips harshly, then remembered himself. Yoongi was a prince; he couldn’t have marks. “Don’t let me leave marks.”

“Not where someone can see,” Yoongi breathed out, his eyes gleaming wickedly.

Letting out a sound that could have been a whine or a moan—he honestly wasn’t sure—Seokjin yanked on Yoongi’s hair, tilting his head back so he could lick a trail down his throat. He kept his kisses and movements light until he got to Yoongi’s chest. He paused just over Yoongi’s rapidly beating heart and latched on, sucking forcefully until he was satisfied with the angry red colour that Yoongi's naturally fair skin had turned into.

Seokjin paused to admire his work, kissing the spot lightly even as Yoongi’s movements grew faster and more agitated. He barely even noticed. Every movement was like a shot of heat to his abdomen but he wasn’t focused on that yet. 

Instead, he moved slightly to the left and bit down on Yoongi’s nipple. Yoongi cried out loudly, his body shuddering when Seokjin licked the spot to soothe the sting and started to suck. He’d never been particularly fond of sucking on people’s nipples, it did very little for him personally, but Yoongi was so loud and that did quite a bit for him. 

Or it did until he realized something.

He’d heard that sound before.

“Yoongi?” Seokjin called, pulling back.

Yoongi blinked rapidly, his eyes hazy and face flushed. “Yes?”

“Why have I heard you moan before?” Seokjin asked teasingly.

Immediately, Yoongi got even pinker, his cheeks darkening noticeably. “I didn’t know the silencing talisman wasn’t working!”

Seokjin laughed, dropping his forehead to Yoongi’s chest. “That’s why you got so embarrassed when I told you they didn’t work.” Seokjin paused, remembering how red Yoongi had gotten when the bath had been taken away. “And when the servants came for the tub.”

“Yes,” Yoongi admitted to both observations.

“I heard you,” Seokjin said again, kissing his way up Yoongi’s chest and neck towards his ear. “It sounded like you were enjoying yourself. What were you thinking about?”

“You,” Yoongi revealed without hesitation.

“Oh? What were we doing?” Seokjin wondered.

“This,” Yoongi said, then tilted his head. “I called you hyung and you fucked me until I came.”

Seokjin breathed out harshly. “I have never had a hyung kink but here we are.”

Yoongi bit his lip. “No one says my name so…”

Furrowing his brows, Seokjin met Yoongi’s sheepish gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Everyone I’ve been with has used my title.”

For a moment, Seokjin just stared at him, not understanding, then it hit him. His title. That’s why he’d said Yoongi was a tease. No one had used his name while they fucked. Seokjin could fix that. “Here there are no titles, okay? Just Seokjin and Yoongi.”

Yoongi smiled, relieved that Seokjin just seemed to understand. “Okay.”

“Now,” Seokjin said cheekily, pulling up his knees so Yoongi fell forward into his chest. “Time to make that fantasy come true.”

“Wh—” Yoongi tried, his words cutting off as Seokjin sat upward and practically threw him back onto the mattress. He felt his feet flail uselessly, kicking at the pillows at the top of the bed, before he realized he was under Seokjin again. “I guess you’re strong too.”

“I work out only under extreme duress,” Seokjin joked before he leaned back on his calves and began pulling off his robes. It took longer since he was wearing more layers but Yoongi didn’t whine or complain. He just eyed every inch of revealed skin, his eyes wide and unblinking. 

It was only when Seokjin was left in pants just as Yoongi was, that he moved at all. His fingers traced over every dip and curve of Seokjin’s chest, lingering on a few scars, old and long faded to bright white marks on his otherwise flawless skin. “Always knew you’d be beautiful.”

Seokjin flushed a bit, embarrassed by the honesty in Yoongi’s words and on his face, then moved to pull down Yoongi’s pants. He paused at the edge, his fingers playing over the fabric as he met Yoongi’s eyes in question. When Yoongi nodded, Seokjin pulled them down, carefully moving them from each leg before dropping them with the rest of his robes. 

Though he’d been entirely confident and comfortable up until this moment, the utter focus and intensity of Seokjin’s gaze on him made him squirm slightly and press his thighs together. Seokjin didn’t comment, he just leaned down and slotted their lips together again, his palms sliding up the outside of Yoongi’s thighs and pulling them up until he was cradling Seokjin’s hips.

This movement made Yoongi’s cock rub against Seokjin’s still clothed one and he moaned lightly, his hips rolling up to get more friction. Seokjin pressed down against him, matching his movements until they were grinding together, their lips parting and meeting over and over in between broken-off moans.

“Oil. I have— there’s oil. In my trunk,” Yoongi rushed out, his breathing harsh and erratic.

Normally, Seokjin would tease, ask Yoongi why he thought to bring oil on a trip such as this, but he didn’t have the brain capacity. His own dick was leaking against his trousers, the wet spot spreading with every well-placed grind of Yoongi’s hips, and he needed to be inside Yoongi as quickly as possible.

With that in mind, Seokjin scrambled off the bed and went to Yoongi’s trunk, crouching down. He tugged at the lid, and realizing that it was locked, funnelled an almost unnecessary amount of magic into the lock, forcing it open. Yoongi made a small sound above him and Seokjin’s head snapped up. “Gods, you’re beautiful, Yoongi.”

Yoongi moaned again, his eyes never leaving Seokjin as his fingers moved teasingly over his own cock. They were just gliding up and down on the underside, smoothing precome along his length as he watched Seokjin dig through his chest. “Hyung…”

Seokjin cursed under his breath, practically tossing things out of the way until he finally found a small bottle at the bottom of the trunk. He uncorked it, just to be sure, then, realizing it was indeed oil, closed it again before standing up and throwing the bottle on the bed. Yoongi grabbed it immediately, uncorking it again and pouring some on his fingers. Seokjin could only watch as Yoongi’s hand moved between his legs, bypassing his dick. Seokjin couldn’t see but he knew that Yoongi was going to finger himself.

“Perfect. You’re perfect,” Seokjin managed, unable to move as Yoongi’s legs widened and his hand pressed further down. He knew the second Yoongi’s finger entered himself, saw the way his lips parted and his head fell back, his eyes still fixed on Seokjin’s face, never wavering. Seokjin tore his eyes away from Yoongi’s face, letting them move back to his arm, mesmerized by the way it moved up and down, disappearing and reappearing between his thighs.

Shaking himself, Seokjin pushed his pants down and stepped out of them, moving to the bed. Yoongi bit his lip, his eyes flicking between Seokjin’s dick and face. “Hyung, can I?”

“Can you what?” Seokjin asked softly.

“I want to suck your cock,” Yoongi told him, his eyes now firmly fixed on Seokjin’s cock, which jumped at the image. Seokjin could picture it easily: Yoongi’s wide, tear-filled eyes looking up at him as his lips stretched around his cock, Seokjin’s own hands buried in Yoongi’s shining blonde hair, guiding him on his cock as he fucked his mouth.

Fuck did he want that. But: “I won’t last, Yoongi.”

Yoongi whined, from disappointment or from the movement of his own hands, Seokjin didn’t know. What he did know was that he needed to stop watching and touch Yoongi himself.

Returning to his earlier spot, Seokjin settled himself in between Yoongi’s thighs. As he’d already known, Yoongi was fingering himself. He had not expected to find him two fingers deep already. Seokjin swallowed as Yoongi’s fingers widened, pressing against his own rim as he pulled his fingers out before pushing back in harshly, his hips lifting slightly at the feeling. Seokjin reached out, covering Yoongi’s hand with his own. Yoongi rolled his head to the side, wondering what Seokjin was about to do, only to gasp loudly when Seokjin grabbed his wrist and forced him to move faster. “I really wanted to do this myself.”

“S-sorry,” Yoongi managed, the apology losing all its impact when he cried out. 

“Can you take three?” Seokjin asked.

Yoongi nodded hastily, already prodding his rim with his ring finger. Before Seokjin could tell him to, he pushed his third finger in, a sharp cry falling from his lips at the stretch. “H-hyung. Good?”

“So good,” Seokjin murmured. Yoongi wasn’t moving his own hand anymore, he’d let Seokjin take control entirely. It was a slightly odd process, but Seokjin couldn’t say he disliked it. There was something about watching Yoongi finger himself while completely under his control that made his blood rush south. “Tease your prostate.”

Yoongi blinked open his eyes, unaware he’d even closed them. “I’ll come.”

“So come,” Seokjin ordered.

“No,” Yoongi denied, shaking his head so hard his hair whipped around with the motion. “I want you to fuck me, hyung. Now.”

Seokjin had never been good with taking orders. Until this very moment. Grabbing for the discarded oil, Seokjin poured too much on his cock and pulled Yoongi’s fingers free. Yoongi whined at the empty feeling but Seokjin shuffled forward, hooking his arms under Yoongi’s knees, and prodding Yoongi’s rim with the head of his cock. “Okay?”

“Yes, okay. Fucking fuck me,” Yoongi snapped out.

“Orders, orders,” Seokjin teased, slamming forward on the last syllable. Yoongi let out a loud, sobbing cry, making Seokjin so incredibly thankful they’d put the silencing talisman in place, then reached back, grabbing onto the bottom edge of the bed and arching against Seokjin’s body. He couldn’t move much with the way Seokjin had pinned his legs but it was enough to tell Seokjin what he wanted.

Taking it for the silent order it was, Seokjin pulled out and thrust forward again, the sound of his hips hitting Yoongi’s ass sending a resounding slap throughout the room.

“Fuck, hyung, Seokjin, like that. Just like that,” Yoongi gasped out, his hips already moving to meet the pace he’d ordered Seokjin to set, which Seokjin had no problem with. Truth be told, he hadn’t been lying when he told Yoongi he wouldn’t last but he’d be damned if he didn’t make Yoongi come crying his name just as he’d promised. 

So, using more control than he’d ever thought possible, Seokjin fucked into Yoongi hard and lunged forward, crashing their lips together in a sloppy, barely coherent kiss. Yoongi hiccupped, his breath restricted and stuttering under the pressure of being folded in half, but he didn’t let go of the bed, didn’t stop pushing himself back onto Seokjin’s cock over and over.

“Yoongi— fuck, you feel so good. Sound so good,” Seokjin rambled out, his concentration fraying the longer he looked at Yoongi under him. His skin was so flushed, sliding against the sweat that coated Seokjin’s as they frantically moved together faster and more sloppily with each passing second.

Whatever rhythm they’d tried to set dissolved, their movements growing disjointed even as Seokjin shifted his hips to target Yoongi’s prostate. It took a few strokes since he hadn’t been able to finger Yoongi himself and find it. He managed to lift his head just as he slammed forward and hit his prostate and he was thankful he did. Yoongi’s eyes snapped open, wide and unseeing as his voice lifted in a broken cry, so loud Seokjin wanted to call it a scream.

That was the last moment Seokjin was entirely coherent. As Yoongi cried out louder and louder, his hand finally letting go of the bed so he could jerk himself off, Seokjin felt Yoongi’s magic surge forward just as it had every time Seokjin had gone looking for it. Only this time it slammed into him with no warning. He pushed back against it instinctively but that only seemed to make the overwhelming sensation of two magical sources clashing worse.

Or better.

Seokjin was sure that he’d have more eloquent language to describe it later but, at that moment, all he felt was Yoongi convulse around him, all he heard was a mangled Seokjin-hyung somewhere in the distance, and then his own tenuous control snapped and he came, thrusting deeply into Yoongi’s hole until he was spent, his come leaking out around his softening cock.

Collapsing forward, Seokjin caught himself on his forearms, only then realizing he’d dropped Yoongi’s legs at some point, and met Yoongi’s hazy eyes. “Gods, Yoongi.”

Yoongi let out a half-laugh, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He was covered in sweat and come and Seokjin felt his heart squeeze tightly, nearly choking him. Before he could come up with something to say, Yoongi laughed again. “Uh, is that what it’s like when witches fuck?”

“No,” Seokjin said honestly.

“No?” Yoongi echoed lazily, then he stiffened. “Shit, did I hurt you? I can’t control it. I—”

“Yoongi,” Seokjin interrupted quickly. “It didn’t hurt. It felt really fucking good. I promise. I’ve just never seen that happen.”

“Oh. Is it because I’m not trained?” Yoongi wondered. Seokjin shrugged. He didn’t think so. Yoongi’s magic always reacted to him so he suspected it had something to do with that but he had a hunch that would be too much for Yoongi right now so he leaned forward and nuzzled Yoongi’s neck, leaving quick, teasing kisses over the entire area until he squirmed and giggled at the ticklish sensation. “Stop!”

“No,” Seokjin denied, forcing his hands under Yoongi’s body so he couldn’t escape. “Suffer.”

Yoongi practically shrieked when Seokjin pressed his fingers into his side, his body jolting hard enough that Seokjin’s dick slipped free. Yoongi stilled on a small groan, wincing at the feeling of come leaking out of his hole. “Ah, damn, I’m going to need to order another bath.”

Seokjin smiled against his neck, unwilling to apologize. “Can I join?”

“Only if you wash my hair,” Yoongi decided, his heart rate kicking up at the mere idea of something so… domestic. He heard his own words from earlier, his tentative potential confession, and blushed. 

Thankfully, Seokjin didn’t notice. “Deal.”

Chapter Text

When Yoongi awoke the next morning, he was sore in the best way possible. He couldn’t stop himself from burrowing deeper into the blankets and smiling to himself.

“Morning,” Seokjin murmured, his voice deep and rough from sleep.

Yoongi opened his eyes, meeting the sleepy gaze of Seokjin, and smiled. “Morning.”

“It’s still early,” Seokjin said just as softly, his hand reaching out to move some of Yoongi’s hair out of his face. “I should go.”

Though he knew that was for the best, Yoongi didn’t want him to go. “I know.”

“I’ll see you soon. For breakfast?” Seokjin suggested.

Yoongi glanced toward the window. There were still a few hours before the staff would bring him food but they’d likely already be up preparing for the day. “Okay.”

Seokjin shifted closer, tapping under Yoonig’s chin until he looked up so he could kiss him softly. He smelled like the bath oils they’d used the night before and tasted like morning breath but Yoongi couldn’t think of a better wake-up call. “I’m really happy, Yoongi.”

Jolting slightly, Yoongi pulled back and looked up so he could try and read Seokjin’s eyes. He didn’t see a lie there but he hesitated still. If I asked you to stay… “For now?”

“For now,” Seokjin allowed, knowing Yoongi wouldn’t believe him if he said otherwise. Hell, he didn’t even know if he could be happy like this forever, but he sure as hell didn’t want to go anywhere so: for now.

“Okay,” Yoongi murmured, watching as Seokjin slid out of the bed and started pulling on his pants and then went about wrapping his robes. Seokjin was slightly upset that he hadn’t gotten the chance to undress him himself but he figured he could do that next time.

When Seokjin was dressed, Yoongi got out of bed too, pulling on the robe he’d worn the night before so he wasn’t naked. He was in the process of walking to the other side of the bed to give Seokjin one last kiss when the talisman on his door lit up. Yoongi met Seokjin’s eyes in surprise. No one should be coming to his door this early so it had to be important.

Waving a frantic hand toward the table, Seokjin conjured some writing implements and papers bearing the royal family’s seal. Yoongi glanced at it then nodded, seeing that Seokjin was giving himself a reason to be there. Yoongi waited for Seokjin to take a seat then moved to the door, sliding it open with a slightly irritated expression. “Yes?”

“Your Highness!” A young servant girl said, her eyes darting behind Yoongi to Seokjin and then back to him with little pause. “The crown prince is here!”

“What?” Yoongi managed. “What do you mean he’s here?”

“Word just came from the town. He’ll be here any moment.”

Yoongi blinked rapidly then spun and dove for his trunk, pulling out some more formal robes to change into. “Go greet him! The court witch and I will be down in a moment.”

“Your Highness,” the servant agreed, bowing before she ran away.

“Why is your brother here?” Seokjin asked, moving swiftly to help Yoongi change into the more elaborate robes. His hand lingered over the now purple mark he’d left over Yoongi’s heart. It made them both pause, their eyes meeting for a moment, and then they both started moving again.

“I don’t know. I only just told him of the attack and my injury in the letter I sent yesterday,” Yoongi admitted.

Seokjin paused. “You hid it from them?”

“I… made a strategic choice. I knew they’d go nuts and I wanted to solve it before they showed up and started dragging people to the execution block,” Yoongi defended.

“Well, now he’s here,” Seokjin said blandly. He’d seen the way Hyungki doted on Yoongi, seen the way he’d protested Yoongi going at all. If he were a betting man, he’d lay down all he had that Hyungki was going to pitch a fit. 

“He is,” Yoongi agreed, already walking toward the door even though he was in the process of tying his hair up into a high ponytail. It was a stark contrast to his formal robes but it was better than it’d been. “Let’s go.”

Seokjin followed quickly, keeping pace with Yoongi as he moved down the stairs towards the entrance. Already they could hear the sound of hooves and a carriage on the roads, telling them they’d only just made it before Hyungki.

Not that it mattered.

The carriage had barely even stopped when the door was opened and Hyungki was jumping out, completely ignoring the proper process and the people bowing in greeting. He didn’t spare them a glance. Instead, he all but ran to where Yoongi was entering the courtyard. “Yoongi!”

“Crown Prince,” Yoongi greeted formally, trying to maintain some sort of decorum.

It didn’t work.

“Your arm! Why are you moving your shoulder!? Where is your sling? Have you not—”

“Hyung,” Yoongi interrupted, giving up. “I’m healed. It’s fine. Seokjin healed me.”

Hyungki visibly paused. “I thought you said in your letter that he couldn’t.”

Yoongi nodded. “He worked on a special spell and managed to make it work late last night. It’s fine now.”

With a small frown, Hyungki ran his hand over Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi had a brief moment of worry that Hyungki would demand to see the wound then and there but after a moment he stepped back and dropped his hand, some of the anxious energy leaving him. “I was so worried. I came right here.”

Yoongi sighed. “You didn’t have to do that, hyung. I can handle it.”

“I’m not worried about the attacker, Yoongi. I’m worried about you,” Hyungki clarified, rolling his eyes. “I was worried you’d be permanently injured or the wound would get infected and you’d— it doesn’t matter now. You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” Yoongi confirmed.

“Then I owe Court Witch Seokjin my thanks,” Hyungki said, his tone sliding towards formality.

Before Seokjin could even react, Hyungki bowed to him. It wasn’t deep or even long, but there was an audible gasp from the people surrounding them. The crown prince didn’t bow to anyone but the king and everyone knew it. Including Seokjin, who looked mortified just as he had when Yoongi had bowed to him. “Please, it was nothing.”

“Anything that helps my brother cannot be categorized as nothing,” Hyungki said firmly, straightening. “I owe you a great debt for healing him.”

“You owe me nothing. He never should have been injured in the first place,” Seokjin returned.

“That was not your job,” Hyungki answered, beating down the nagging sense of guilt that had driven him here the second he’d read the letter. It was his fault that Namjoon hadn’t been here to protect Yoongi and he’d never forgive himself for that. Especially since the only reason Namjoon had been sent away was because Hyungki had let his mother convince him that leaving Yoongi alone with Seokjin was a good idea. His frivolousness had allowed his brother to be hurt. He’d have to live with that. “But speaking of jobs, I suppose I shall return to mine.”

Yoongi raised a teasing brow. “Oh?”

“I believe we should discuss the latest developments, don’t you?” Hyungki asked.

“We should,” Yoongi agreed with a small sigh. Less than a half-hour ago he’d been snuggled naked in Seokjin’s arms. Now he was going to discuss treason and politics. Fantastic. “Follow me.”

“I’ll stay here and make sure your party gets settled, Your Highness,” Seokjin said just before they walked away.

“You don’t have to, hy—Seokjin,” Yoongi protested. “That’s Attendant Cho’s job, not yours.”

Seokjin smiled slightly. “Attendant Cho is still sleeping, as he should be. I know my way around enough to direct a few dozen people.”

Yoongi pursed his lips but relented with a small nod. His eyes swept the courtyard, landing on the few servants who were up and hovering nearby. “Help Court Witch Seokjin with whatever he needs.”

“We will, Your Highness,” they both agreed, bowing in unison.

Glancing at his brother, Yoongi inclined his head toward the door before walking away, heading in the direction of his bedroom. They had better rooms for proper meetings but all his files and information were in his trunk in his room so it was just easier.

He realized his mistake the second the door closed behind him and the talismans they’d left in place lit up. Hyungki raised a brow at them but his attention was quickly diverted to the dishevelled bed. “Yoongi?”

“Uh, yea?” Yoongi asked, going for a casual tone as he opened his trunk and took out the papers he wanted to show Hyungki.

“Did you fuck the court witch?” Hyungki asked bluntly.

Yoongi flinched, the trunk slamming shut with a loud, slightly ominous thump. “Why would you ask that?”

Hyungki sent him a blank look. “The bed looks like more than one person slept in it and this room reeks of sex. Also, that’s oil beside the bed.”

Whipping around, Yoongi’s eyes fell on the bottle they’d carelessly left on the bedside table and groaned. “Fuck.”

“So that’s a yes,” Hyungki surmised.

Yoongi bit his lip, his fingers moving to play with the ends of his hair. “Yes, it is.”

“I’m happy for you,” Hyungki murmured, his questioning look slipping away to reveal a fond, brotherly smile.

“Happy?” Yoongi repeated, confused.

“I’ve never seen you do something for yourself so I’m proud,” Hyungki confirmed, moving to the table and sitting down in one elegant swoop. “I knew you liked him and I thought— we thought— he could be good for you.”

Yoongi blinked. “We?”

“Mother.”

“Mother?!” Yoongi repeated, his voice pitching dangerously.

Hyungki winced. “She approached me a while ago about your preferences. I didn’t tell her anything but she’d already guess based entirely on how you looked at that witch.”

Yoongi rubbed his face. “Is that why Namjoon was sent away?”

“Partially,” Hyungki admitted, “but I did send him somewhere important.”

“He wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

“Oh, he’s checking the rest of the border towns for more military encampments. We’d prioritized this area but if we’re going to be talking to them about the issue, it’s best if we know where they all are—if there are more anyway.”

Yoongi nodded and sat down across from his brother, sitting in the seat Seokjin had occupied earlier. “That’s a good idea.”

“I thought so.”

“Hyung…” Yoongi said after a moment, his voice trailing off. His eyes meandered around the room, remembering how he and Seokjin had made the talismans work together, how they’d kissed in the middle of the room, how they’d fucked like they’d never get another chance, how Seokjin had washed his hair so gently. This room was filled with good memories now, happy ones, but he was a worrier. “Do you really think it’s okay if I… if we…”

Hyungki didn’t have to ask what he meant. “I understand why you’d ask that. It’s complicated. You two can never really be together but I’m sure you know that.”

“I do,” Yoongi admitted quietly.

“But I don’t think that means you can’t catch a little happiness for yourself. Especially if he’s aware of that and still wants to be with you anyway,” Hyungki said softly.

“He says he does but I—” Yoongi hesitated. “I don’t want to make him unhappy.”

“That’s always a possibility, Yoongi. I worry every day that I’ll make Taeso unhappy somehow, that when I’m king we’ll lose what we have now,” Hyungki admitted, then shrugged helplessly. “That’s what being in love is.”

“I’m not— I don’t—” Yoongi stopped, his fingers winding in his hair and tugging as his eyes darted around. If I said that I might be falling in love with you, would that be okay? “How’d you know?”

Hyungki smiled gently and pulled Yoongi’s hand out of his hair. “I know you, Yoongi. You have rules and a way you act and live your life. With him, you don’t do that. For the first time, I’m seeing you act the way you do around me around someone else and I like that quite a bit. He makes you comfortable.”

Yoongi smiled, his eyes dropping to the blank papers Seokjin had left on the table. “He does. I don’t know if he’ll stay, or if I even want him to, but he does.”

“Let that be enough for now, Yoongi,” Hyungki advised.

“Okay,” Yoongi relented then cleared his throat, “now onto the actually important stuff.”

Hyungki leaned back. “Both things are important.”

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi ignored him and continued on: “The man who shot me with an arrow was executed last night. He was mostly useless. The guards here partnered with the closest military camp to investigate while I was recovering and found that the local hyangni had influenced him to do it.”

“Influenced?” Hyungki repeated, frowning.

“There was no real promise of monetary gain it seemed. The hyangni made it seem like we were going to take away his farm and this man’s livelihood by association and that getting rid of me would prevent that. It’s a bit of a fairy tale but it seems the hyangni was banking on a war breaking out over it since he’d dressed him up in a foreign outfit.”

Hyungki crossed his arms. “It’s not a bad plan. Poorly executed but if you died, no one would have stopped to question if it was a setup or not.”

“That’s why I pushed Crown Prince Lee out of the way. I knew his father would launch a full campaign,” Yoongi explained.

“Still not happy about that by the way,” Hyungki muttered.

“You and Seokjin alike.”

“So he’s smart then,” Hyungki joked before sighing. “What about Crown Prince Lee? What’s your opinion of him?”

Yoongi crossed his arms, mimicking his brother’s pose and tilted his head as he thought about Crown Prince Lee. “He seems like a good man. He was honest about not wanting war but realistic about the tenuous nature of the situation. After I was shot, he requested we speak to each other on a first-name basis.”

Hyungki raised a brow. “So he’ll fight for us.”

“He’ll fight for no war,” Yoongi amended. “He will choose his father.”

“As he should,” Hyungki murmured, thinking over what Yoongi had said. “It’s good he doesn’t want war. That’ll reduce the risk. Plus if he likes you, that helps too. Saving him from potential death and injury will do even more.”

“So basically, we have two people on their side trying to prevent the war,” Yoongi summarized. “I don’t want to ask Seokjin about the prediction just in case but hopefully that bodes well.”

Hyungki frowned. “Two?”

Yoongi paused visibly, his teeth sinking into his lip as he hesitated. He wasn’t sure how much he should tell his brother. He’d left the witch and magic part out of his letter because he was aware the council would see it but he could, theoretically, tell his brother now. He’d never lied to him before, at least not purposefully, and he didn’t want to start now, but he also wasn’t sure how he’d react. Yoongi’s eyes flicked to Hyungki and, seeing him staring at him patiently, sighed. “The letter we received about the meeting was bespelled.”

“What? They have a witch?” Hyungki asked.

“The queen, yes,” Yoongi confirmed. “She saw the same future that Seokjin did and wants to stop it. The king doesn’t listen to her apparently, so she put a spell on the letter and told the guard to deliver it to Seokjin, who would send it to me.”

Hyungki, like Yoongi, fixated on that. “Why you?”

“Because she’s the witch that blessed me,” Yoongi revealed, staring hard at Hyungki’s face. To say he was surprised was an understatement. His face paled and his eyes widened, the irises flicking around as he took that information in. Yoongi could practically feel him thinking, trying to understand. Yoongi answered his unasked question. “We don’t know why.”

“Do…” Hyungki hesitated. “Do you think she had ill intentions?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi admitted with a small shrug. “But it did… give me magic.”

“What?” Hyungki gasped out.

“It gave me magic. Not a lot,” Yoongi explained, “but enough that Seokjin’s healing magic didn’t work until he helped me tap into it.”

Hyungki sagged a bit, his mouth opening and closing. “So you’re a witch?”

“I guess? I’m not really clear on how it works. I can’t do anything by myself. I need Seokjin to… boost it?”

“You need him specifically?” Hyungki asked.

“I only know one witch. Not exactly a wide test group,” Yoongi pointed out.

“Right,” Hyungki murmured. “How did so much happen in just a few days?”

“You’re telling me,” Yoongi sighed in agreement.

Hyungki shook his head. “Maybe you shouldn’t leave the palace anymore.”

Yoongi snorted. “Not like I usually do anyway. I do like this place though.”

“It is nice,” Hyungki agreed, looking around the room.

“You should see Seokjin’s garden,” Yoongi said. “It’s beautiful.”

Hyungki laughed abruptly. “You gave him a garden, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” Yoongi snapped, laughing too. Quite suddenly, he was glad his brother came. Even if it only meant he’d have to return to the palace faster, he couldn’t help but feel comforted by talking to him, hearing his support. It made him feel like maybe everything would work out.

Chapter Text

Spread out on his bed, Seokjin stared at the ceiling, his mind entirely blank. It was purposefully so. He felt as if he started to think he’d never stop. His life had taken such a turn since he’d moved to the palace that it was like he’d done a full 360 and then kept going to 540. There had never been a time in his nearly one hundred years that so much had changed. There had never been a time when he hadn’t been upset by that. But he wasn’t. Upset that is. He found, as he let his mind drift over his current situation, he was surprisingly content.

Sure, everything was different, but in a good way. He still practiced magic but now it had more of a purpose. Even if he was doing small, silly spells for the inhabitants of the palace, it was nice to see and hear their genuine gratitude. His rooms at the palace were comfortable and felt more like home than his previous house had. The only place that felt even close was Taehyung’s and that had more to do with Taehyung being there than the location. 

And then there was Yoongi.

Second Prince Min Yoongi.

Seokjin folded his hands behind his head and sighed, his eyes falling closed. Every time he thought about Yoongi he felt like he’d done it a million times but it was still somehow the first time. It wasn’t like Yoongi was changing but Seokjin’s feelings for him were and that was making everything feel new and fragile.

First Yoongi had been below his interest, then he’d been a convenient pawn to get more information to help the queen, then he’d fascinated him because of his hair, then intrigued him because of his personality, and then he’d just wanted to be his friend. Now… now Seokjin frowned, opening his eyes. Now all he wanted to do was be around Yoongi, help him navigate this treacherous world safely.

When he’d looked at him in the garden, watched the golden glow shower around him, he’d had a moment where he’d thought he could be falling for him. That feeling had only intensified when they’d been back in the garden and Yoongi had shared his worries about how the rest of the royal family viewed him. By the time he and Yoongi had practiced magic, he was well underwater with no chance of resurfacing.

He was drowning in Yoongi and he didn’t want to be saved.

“Hyung? Are you in there?”

Seokjin jolted upright, his eyes darting to the door where his silencing talisman was still in place. Which, obviously, didn’t work for Yoongi. For some reason, that just made Seokjin smile even as he stood and moved to the door. He slid it open, smiling down at Yoongi who looked up at him tentatively, his fingers playing with his ponytail. It was messy now, bearing the signs of someone playing with it all day, but it still looked good. Everything on Yoongi looked good. “Hi, Yoongi.”

“Hi,” Yoongi returned quietly.

“Come in?” Seokjin invited, stepping back from the door and sweeping his hand around to direct Yoongi inside. He inclined his head and followed the movement of Seokjin’s arm, stepping over the threshold of the room and pausing as Seokjin closed the door behind him. Seokjin turned toward him slowly, tilting his head in question. “Everything okay?”

Yoongi nodded, his eyes drifting around the room. It was a standard-looking room, nothing special, and it made Yoongi frown. “Your room isn’t very nice. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Seokjin raised a brow and glanced around the room like he’d never seen it before. It was true it wasn’t as nice as his rooms at the palace or even the room he’d used at the inn when they’d first arrived but there wasn’t anything wrong with it. “Why would I? It has everything I need.”

“I suppose,” Yoongi allowed, his fingers finding the ends of his hair and twisting around the strands as he continued to look around—continued to look everywhere but Seokjin.

Somewhat frustrated by that, Seokjin stepped around Yoongi and tapped under his chin, just as he’d done that morning when he’d wanted a good morning kiss. Yoongi’s face tilted up automatically and Seokjin raised his brow again. “I’m going to ask again: is everything okay?”

Yoongi nodded but his eyes darted away. “Yes.”

“Yoongichi, you’re a terrible liar.”

The familiar nickname made Yoongi’s lips quirk up for a moment before he sighed. “My brother knows about… us. If there even is an us.”

“I assumed you’d tell him,” Seokjin admitted. He’d have to be blind and stupid to think Yoongi wouldn’t. Everyone knew how close they were. “I know how close you two are. Also, why wouldn’t there be an ‘us’?”

It was frustrating to Seokjin the way he wasn’t looking at him. Even though they were no more than a half dozen centimetres apart, it was like Yoongi was trying to project himself elsewhere. Even more so when Yoongi bit his lip and shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“What the hell happened between this morning and now, Yoongi?” Seokjin practically snapped.

“What happened?” Yoongi repeated, blinking slowly. The truth was nothing had happened. Not really. He’d spent most of the day with his brother going over what he’d found and coming up with a plan for handling the hyangni. It was a complicated situation and it had taken hours, but even then, Yoongi had had time to let his mind wander, to wonder what Seokjin was doing, what he was thinking.

Though Hyungki had been supportive and even happy for Yoongi, he couldn’t help but fixate on the less than ideal future Hyungki had presented for them—one he was fully aware of. He wanted to just be okay with it like his brother suggested, wanted his agreement then to stand now, but faced with Seokjin, he couldn’t stop himself from shying away. He hated it, hated that he couldn’t stop himself, but there was nothing he could do. Except talk it out. “Can we talk?”

Seokjin scanned Yoongi’s face, worry creeping in. “Of course, Yoongichi.”

“Thank you,” Yoongi murmured.

Directing Yoongi towards his much smaller sitting area, Seokjin took a seat, waiting for Yoongi to do the same. When he did, Seokjin rested his hands on his knees. “So?”

Yoongi hesitated, tapping his finger nervously on his thigh. “This is going to sound repetitive, I know we’ve talked about it, but after— after last night, everything is different now and I need to talk about it again.”

“Do you regret it? Last night?” Seokjin asked immediately. He needed to know what mindset Yoongi was going into this conversation with—whatever this conversation was.

“No,” Yoongi answered honestly. “Never.”

“Okay,” Seokjin sighed out, relieved. “Then let’s talk about whatever you want to talk about.”

Yoongi nodded slowly. “I mentioned before that all my relationships had to be private.”

“You did.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Yoongi murmured, wincing at the confused look on Seokjin’s face. “I’ll have to get married eventually. Publicly.”

“Oh,” Seokjin murmured. He’d known that too of course but hearing Yoongi say it so bluntly made his heart squeeze.

“It’s not ideal but I’ve always known I’d end up with some woman my family picked out. If any are willing anyway—my hair has always been a detractor for obvious reasons.”

Seokjin nodded. “Do you know when?”

“No,” Yoongi said, shaking his head. “I’m already older than most men get married so it’s possible it’ll never happen but I— I couldn’t continue— I don’t want to continue this with you without you knowing that that future is a possibility.”

Quite honestly, Seokjin didn’t know what to say, Yoongi getting married to someone else was not how he wanted his story to end. It’s not how he wanted Yoongi’s story to end. Especially since, without asking, he knew Yoongi would remain faithful to his wife. That’s just the type of man he was. “I’m sorry you’ll have to marry someone you don’t know or love, Yoongichi.”

“It’s pretty common for people like me,” Yoongi said, hoping to reassure him. It might have worked if Seokjin didn’t know that both his parents and brother had married someone they loved.

“But regardless of if we are together or not, I’m staying.”

“Y-you are?” Yoongi asked, surprised.

Seokjin hadn’t even known how true those words were until they’d left his mouth. He’d been thinking about whether or not he’d ever leave before but he hadn’t made a decision. At least not consciously. “Yes. I like the palace and your family. I like the staff and the magic I do there. I like being with you too—whether platonically or not.”

Yoongi shifted closer, his knees slipping off the cushion he’d been perched on. “You’re sure?”

“I am,” Seokjin promised, “and I’d like to be with you as long as possible—for as long as we can.”

“Hyung, I—” Yoongi broke off. “The last thing I want is my reality to make you sad or unhappy.”

Seokjin smiled slightly. “That’s not something you can control, Yoongichi. You’re a prince and you have responsibilities and expectations. I knew that before I kissed you and I know that now. I went into this completely aware we might have to part later. I’m still here and I still want to kiss you.”

Yoongi’s brows furrowed like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Maybe he didn’t. Namjoon had insinuated that no one stayed with Yoongi and Yoongi himself had continuously positioned himself so he was never in a place where someone could stay. Not until Seokjin. Which raised one final question: “But none of that matters unless that’s what you want. Do you want me to stay, Yoongi?”

“Yes,” Yoongi admitted, his tone tinged with desperation. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then I’m here,” Seokjin promised again even as he reached out and grabbed the front of Yoongi’s robe and tugged him closer. Yoongi scrambled towards him on his knees, settling himself on his lap after lifting his robes so he could widen his legs. Seokjin’s arms slid around his waist before his hands trailed up his back, pushing lightly on his shoulder blades so Yoongi leaned forward, closing the distance between their lips.

“Hyung…” Yoongi whispered, slotting their lips together. It was messy and filled with all the desperation that had leaked into Yoongi’s words previously. It wasn’t the same kind of desperation as the night before, though it was heading the same way. It wasn’t desperation to touch for the sake of sex. It was desperation to touch to confirm they were both there, that they were both staying.

It felt like Yoongi was trying to climb him, his arms and legs moving constantly to get even closer. Seokjin dropped his hands to Yoongi’s hips to still him, his lips tearing away from Yoongi’s mouth. “What do you want?”

“You. Just you. Touch me, be with me, please, hyung,” Yoongi rambled out even as he dropped kisses along Seokjin’s cheek and jaw.

Seokjin didn’t need to be told twice. He widened his legs, forcing Yoongi’s thighs apart, and moved his hand to the front of Yoongi’s robe. Yoongi’s breath hitched in anticipation but Seokjin didn’t let him linger in it. Immediately, he pressed his palm over Yoongi’s half-hard cock and started to rub. Yoongi lifted his head from where he’d been kissing the space just above the collar of Seokjin’s robes. His mouth parted and his eyes fluttered partially closed, his eyes fixed on Seokjin through his lashes.

If Seokjin could paint, he’d commit that image to canvas. Yoongi hadn’t dissolved into pleasure yet, hadn’t started begging as Seokjin knew he would, and something about the way he looked down at him, strong and hazy around the edges, made Seokjin harder than he’d ever been. He found he liked the strong, in control Yoongi just as much as the one shattering under him.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to wipe that look away though. 

Shifting his hand, Seokjin found the head of Yoongi’s cock and squeezed him through his trousers and robes. Yoongi’s hips kicked forward, desperate for more, but Seokjin didn’t give him what he wanted. He just moved his hand up and down, getting as close to jerking him off through the fabric as he could.

Yoongi moaned lightly, the sound more frustrated than pleasure-filled, and started to roll his hips just as he had the night before, just as Seokjin had shown him. Something about that made Seokjin snap a little and he used the hand still on Yoongi’s back to grab the ends of Yoongi’s hair and tug. Yoongi’s reaction was instantaneous: his lips parted on a loud moan and his cock jerked under Seokjin’s hands.

“Shhh, Yoongi.  You have to be quiet,” Seokjin teased. “Our silencing talisman isn’t on, remember.”

“Yes, okay. Yes, hyung,” Yoongi agreed mindlessly, his voice quiet.

“Good,” Seokjin murmured.

Keeping his one hand in Yoongi’s hair, Seokjin pushed up Yoongi’s robes and held them up to his chest. “Hold this in place.”

Yoongi’s hands, which had been latched onto Seokjin’s shoulders, scrambled to do as Seokjin ordered, tangling in his robes so they’d stay lifted and out of Seokjin’s way. Seokjin smiled in thanks then pushed Yoongi’s pants down, his palm gliding over Yoongi’s now hard cock. Precome smeared along with the movement and Yoongi moaned, only catching himself at the last minute and shoving his face in his robes to muffle the sound.

Seokjin’s lips quirked up in a smirk and then he wrapped his hand around Yoongi’s cock. Yoongi’s hips rolled forward, fucking up into Seokjin’s hand, and Seokjin let him. He just tightened his hand, squeezing at the base of Yoongi’s cock, and started to stroke him hard and fast. Yoongi’s entire body shuddered, a loud cry escaping his attempts to muffle it.

“Quiet, Yoongi. You have to be quiet, baby.”

“Baby,” Yoongi whined desperately, his body shuddering. “Call me that again.”

“Again? You like being called ‘baby’?” Seokjin asked teasingly, never once slowing down or stopping his hand on Yoongi’s dick.

Yoongi nodded, his face hidden by the robes. “Y-yes, no one— never, just you.”

“Then you have to be quiet, baby,” Seokjin reminded him again.

“I will,” Yoongi promised. He was moving without thought now. He was all but riding Seokjin’s thighs, his balls rubbing against the hard muscle there as he thrust up into Seokjin’s constantly moving hand. He felt like his whole body was shaking with anticipation, with want, with something else he didn’t want to say out loud. Seokjin was staying and he wanted to be with him and he was calling him baby. Yoongi wanted so much at that moment but all he could do was sob out muffled whines and pleas into his robes as he drew closer and closer to coming. “Hyung, I— I love— when you touch me, I love it. Please.”

Seokjin wasn’t stupid enough to miss the slip, to miss the hasty correction. He heard it, felt his own body burn at the words, his own only lightly stimulated cock pulse with desire, and surged forward, capturing Yoongi’s lips with his own. It made the position hard to move in, his arm and hand crushed between their bodies, but Yoongi didn’t care and neither did Seokjin. He just squeezed his hand tighter around Yoongi’s cock as he kissed him, smiling against the sloppy movement of Yoongi’s lips. “Shoulda put the silencing talisman up.”

Yoongi nodded, his eyelids mostly closed and eyelashes damp. “Next time.”

“Next time,” Seokjin agreed seconds before he tightened his hand around the base of Yoongi’s cock and tugged on the ends of his hair. Yoongi’s head snapped back, exposing his neck as he moaned much too loudly for an unsilenced room. Seokjin muttered half-hearted shushes but, even though he’d just mentioned it, the potential ramifications of getting caught suddenly didn’t matter. He just wanted Yoongi to come while perched on his lap. Now. So Seokjin moved his hand up closer to the band holding Yoongi’s hair in place and wrapped his hand around it.

“Do it,” Yoongi managed, his eyes squeezed shut.

Seokjin didn’t bother to make a comment or quip, he just tightened his hold and pulled harder, making Yoongi bow against him, his hips stuttering as Seokjin pressed his thumb into the slit of Yoongi’s cock. “Hyung.”

“Jin,” Seokjin said, watching Yoongi’s face. “Call me Jin, baby.”

“Jin-hyung,” Yoongi sobbed, his body crumpling forward as he finally came. Just like last time, Yoongi’s magic flooded his body, rushing over him like a tsunami. This time he was ready for it though so it didn’t catch him by surprise. He let Yoongi’s magic rush through him and forced his own magic to pull back instead of pushing against the intrusion like it had before. It felt like his whole body was set on fire, a burning sensation ghosting over his skin as Yoongi’s cock spilled all over Seokjin’s hands and his robes, staining the material. He’d somehow managed to keep his own robes lifted as Seokjin had told him so they were mostly clean. His pants were a mess but no one would see those, so it was their little secret. 

Still trembling, Yoongi sagged into Seokjin, his nose buried in the base of his neck. Seokjin smiled softly and wiped his hand off on his own robes, figuring they were a lost cause anyway, before wrapping his arms around Yoongi and tugging him even closer. The rush of Yoongi’s magic still lingered on his skin but he didn’t mind. In fact, it reminded him of the soft rose gold glow of their combined magic and it made his hold on Yoongi tighten. “You know, only one person in this world calls me Jin.”

Yoongi stirred a bit, turning his head so his cheek was resting on Seokjin’s shoulder. “The witch friend?”

“Yes,” Seokjin confirmed as he idly traced patterns on Yoongi’s back. “I only let people I consider very close to me use it. Otherwise, I go by my full name.”

“I feel honoured,” Yoongi whispered, his voice hushed. It wasn’t a confession, nowhere near it, but it felt important, especially when coupled with Seokjin’s decision to stay. “I’m sorry I can’t give you more. Maybe if I wasn’t a prince…”

Leaning back so Yoongi was forced to sit up, Seokjin cupped Yoongi’s cheeks. “You’re a great prince, Yoongi. No matter what, this would be complicated. Can you stop thinking about what-ifs and just enjoy what we have now? For me?”

Yoongi bit his lip. “I can try. I tend to… overthink.”

“I’ve noticed,” Seokjin agreed teasingly, his expression softening. “How about this: if you’re ever overthinking, just tell me and we’ll talk about it. No matter what it is. No matter what we are. How’s that?”

“That sounds nice,” Yoongi murmured. He didn’t like to think about the future, about a time when they might not be what they are now, what they’re trying to be now, but the thought of Seokjin being there for him no matter what made him feel warm and content, so he nodded and shifted closer, intent on giving Seokjin a hug.

It was only then that he realized that Seokjin was hard. He didn’t know why it didn’t occur to him before, but it hadn’t. Yoongi’s head tilted down, his eyes staring hard at the bulge hidden under Seokjin’s now stained and ruined robes. “Hyung… can I?”

“Can you what?” Seokjin wondered, his thumbs moving over Yoongi’s cheekbones.

“Suck your dick. You wouldn’t let me last time,” Yoongi clarified, his lips pouting subtly.

Seokjin’s breath stuttered, his hands tightening on Yoongi’s face. The image he’d had before of Yoongi on his knees for him came back, this time with much more detail and desire colouring it. “Yea, baby. I’d like that.”

Yoongi smiled and shuffled off Seokjin’s lap, settling on his knees less than a foot away. Seokjin couldn’t help but snort at Yoongi’s eager attentiveness but that amusement didn’t stop him from standing up and stripping off his robes. He tossed them in the vague direction of his changing area then turned back to Yoongi, now only wearing his trousers. Yoongi bit his lip and moved closer again, his hands wrapping around the back of Seokjin’s knees before gliding up to his ass. Then he paused. “I’ve never actually done this before.”

“What?” Seokjin asked, blinking in confusion. He knew Yoongi wasn’t a virgin, obviously, and he’d been very eager to do it, so Seokjin had just assumed… “Why not?”

“No one would let me,” Yoongi explained with a small sigh, his hands moving tentatively around to the front of Seokjin’s thighs but stopping before he actually touched him. “They all said different things but it came down to who I am.”

“I don’t understand,” Seokjin admitted, frowning slightly.

Yoongi glanced up at him. “A prince kneeling for a commoner? Or even an ordinary aristocrat? The horror.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened. It hadn’t actually occurred to him that Yoongi was kneeling in front of him. Like, obviously, he was kneeling but Seokjin hadn’t made the connection. “Oh… but there are ways…”

Yoongi hummed, his eyes dropping away from Seokjin to settle on his cock. He’d liked the look of it before, liked the feel of it. It was pretty, like Seokjin himself. Now it was confined, pressed up hard against the soft fabric of his pants, and Yoongi wanted to touch it. So he did. Tentatively, he dragged the pads of his fingers along the curve of it, moving from head to base slowly. His cock twitched under his fingers and that gave Yoongi all the confidence he needed.

He’d had his dick sucked before so he knew the basics, knew the very general logistics: cover his teeth, use his tongue, suck in as he pulled away. He knew these things but wasn’t exactly sure if he could do them. At least, not sure he could do them well. He wanted to do them well, wanted to make Seokjin feel as good as he had a few minutes prior. 

With that in mind, Yoongi tugged down his pants until they fell to his ankles. He didn’t let himself hesitate or pause. He just reached out and wrapped his hand around Seokjin’s dick, stroking lightly. He smeared some of the precome that had formed around, easing the movement of his hand. Above him, Seokjin sucked in a breath and reached down, cupping the base of Yoongi’s head. For some reason, that made Yoongi feel powerful, like he’d made Seokjin crack so easily, so he leaned forward and darted his tongue out, flicking just the tip over the head of Seokjin’s cock.

Seokjin felt his hand tighten on Yoongi’s head instinctively. He wanted to let Yoongi go at his own pace since this was a new experience for him but his self-control was fraying. He was a tease and didn’t even know it. “Yoongi, you’re teasing me.”

Yoongi looked up at him, his eyes sparkling. “I am?”

“Right. The prince isn’t a tease but Yoongi is,” Seokjin remembered. “How could I forget?”

“Not all the time,” Yoongi said after a moment before sealing his lips around the head of Seokjin’s cock. He didn’t look away, just put his lips in place and sucked hard. Seokjin’s hips bucked forward automatically, making Yoongi choke and pull back. “Ah— so I can’t do that.”

“Sorry, shit, sorry,” Seokjin hastily said, his free hand wiping the tears that had sprung from Yoongi’s eyes. “I won’t do that again.”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi said, frowning slightly. “I guess I have a gag reflex.”

Seokjin snorted. “Most people do.”

“Unfortunate,” Yoongi mused quietly, as if he was making a mental list of what he could and couldn’t do. Seokjin was surprisingly endeared by that, his desire to push Yoongi to go faster waning under genuine fondness for the smaller man. But before he could even really contemplate that, Yoongi grabbed his dick again and slid it into his mouth, taking more than he had before. Seokjin grabbed onto Yoongi’s hair again, ready to push him down or pull him off—he wasn’t sure anymore—but Yoongi just kept going.

It was a little bit of a slow process, one that wasn’t entirely sexy or hot, but Seokjin couldn’t tear his eyes away from Yoongi’s face as he sucked and lapped at his dick, as he figured out where to put his hand and just how much pressure to use. Seokjin had already known he was a quick learner and that was evident here. He was clearly listening to Seokjin’s reactions and adjusting, doing what made Seokjin shake or moan. Seokjin didn’t think he’d ever had anyone pay this much attention to what he liked. Ever.

“Baby, you’re doing so well,” Seokjin murmured, threading his fingers through Yoongi’s hair and dislodging the ponytail he’d already nearly pulled out earlier. It caused Yoongi’s hair to tumble down his back and around his shoulders, framing his face in soft, golden waves. Gold really was Yoongi’s colour and Seokjin couldn’t help but put his other hand in his hair, spreading it out as it fell through his fingers.

Around his cock, Yoongi made a soft, broken sound, his eyelashes fluttering as he started to move faster, his throat working as he kept swallowing around Seokjin, kept sucking until his cheeks hollowed. Seokjin tightened his hold on Yoongi’s head and met his eyes, an eyebrow raised. Yoongi nodded, the hand he’d put on Seokjin’s hip for leverage pulling him forward slightly.

Taking that as the permission it was, Seokjin started to move, fucking into Yoongi’s mouth with soft, shallow thrusts. Yoongi faltered at first, unsure what to do, then he caught onto the rhythm and started to move in time with Seokjin’s hips, letting his tongue glide up and down the underside of Seokjin’s cock.

“Fuck, you’re so good. Look so pretty,” Seokjin mumbled, his thrusts picking up pace and going deeper. Yoongi choked a bit, his eyes watering as he continued to stare up at Seokjin. His eyes had gone a bit hazy with lust, just as Seokjin had imagined, as that image alone was enough to make Seokjin shatter. He felt like an asshole for not warning Yoongi but it caught him by surprise so all he could do was ride it out as Yoongi swallowed around him before pulling off with a little cough, Seokjin’s come coating his lips and dripping from the corner of his mouth.

It was easily the hottest thing Seokjin had ever seen.

Dropping down the second Seokjin regained conscious thought, he grabbed the leg of his discarded pants and gently wiped off Yoongi’s face, more than a little pleased by the red of his cheeks and softness of his eyes.

“Not bad for a first time?” Yoongi asked, tilting his head into Seokjin’s hold.

“Better than not bad,” Seokjin confirmed, pressing a chaste kiss to Yoongi’s lips. “Do you think you have time to lay in bed with me for a bit?”

Yoongi went over what he still had to do that day in his mind for a moment then nodded. “Yea.”

“Okay, go get comfortable. Give me a moment to change,” Seokjin ordered, pulling Yoongi up. His robe was wrinkled, his lips swollen from kissing and being wrapped around his dick, and his hair was a finger-combed mess.

He looked beautiful.

Smiling slightly, Yoongi moved to Seokjin’s bed and crawled on top, not bothering with the blankets. Seokjin watched him get comfortable then disappeared around the partition and hastily grabbed a change of robes from his trunk. 

The second he was dressed, he went to join Yoongi on the bed, pulling him close until Yoongi wrapped himself around him, resting his cheek on Seokjin’s chest. As if he couldn’t stop himself, Seokjin’s fingers found Yoongi’s hair and started moving through it, working out knots and massaging his scalp where he’d pulled on it earlier.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. It was Yoongi who broke the silence. “You like my hair, huh?”

Seokjin paused. “I mean, it’s beautiful, sure, but mostly I like that it’s attached to you.”

“So you’d like it brown or black too? Like my brother’s?” Yoongi wondered, not bothering to turn his head so he could see his face.

“Without a doubt. Though,” Seokjin said slowly with a slight snort, “it would have taken me longer to realize I wanted to be with you if your hair was brown.”

That made Yoongi sit up, propped up by his elbow on Seokjin’s stomach. “Oh?”

“Well, that was part of the reason I was so interested in you and your personality in the first place. People talk about you and your hair a lot. I don’t think they would have talked about you nearly as much if you were born with brown or black hair.”

Yoongi hummed, his lips pouting as he thought that over. He’d never really considered that his hair could help in his romantic relationships. “Huh. Interesting.”

“But, at the end of the day, it was your weird little personality,” Seokjin teased, continuing even as Yoongi huffed and smacked him, “and your dedication to keeping people safe that drew me in. So your hair doesn’t matter.”

“Even if it’s probably a curse from an enemy witch,” Yoongi teased back, rolling his eyes.

“Even then,” Seokjin agreed, going along with it.

Yoongi smiled, his expression soft and relaxed. “I… I’m glad I met you, Jin-hyung.”

“Thank the gods your mother is so demanding,” Seokjin joked.

“Ugh, I don’t want to think about my mother right now, thanks,” Yoongi whined, dropping back down onto Seokjin’s chest, making him laugh. He knew they’d have to return to the palace, have to deal with the treason and attempted murder, and the general and the war, and everything else, but for now, Seokjin just laughed and hugged Yoongi close, his smile never dimming. Just for now, they’d relax in the limbo they were in and enjoy each other, both knowing it would have to end sooner rather than later.

♔♔♔

Taking a somewhat steadying breath, Byungho stepped into his rooms and glanced around, looking for his wife. He hadn’t seen her most of the day, mostly because he’d been locked away with the council and General Park going over how to deal with the attempted assassination of Yoongi and the aftermath of his meeting with Crown Prince Lee. And then there was the letter he’d received from King Lee, but that was a whole other issue he wasn’t going to deal with until Yoongi came home.

The point was, he hadn’t seen his wife since they’d received the news of Yoongi’s injury and Hyungki had taken off to go check on him. He expected to find her at her vanity as she usually was around this time, but he didn’t. Instead, the room was quiet and dark, only a few flickering lamps throughout telling him that his wife had returned from her duties but wasn’t present.

Walking slowly, Byungho scanned each room cautiously, almost afraid his wife would suddenly appear and smack him with something—she had a beautiful fan collection and all of them hurt—but she didn’t. If Byungho didn’t know his wife so well, he’d be worried, but, like their youngest son, Sooyoung tended to go outside when it was dark and cool and she needed to clear her mind.

So, with that in mind, Byungho retraced his steps and proceeded outside into the small, private garden he’d had built after the birth of Hyungki as a gift for her. He found her sitting on a stone bench, her feet swinging idly over the still water of the small pool in the middle of the garden. She was dressed for bed, her hair loose around her shoulders. It made her look younger than she was, shaving away the decades they’d spent together in an instant, and Byungho was surprised to find it made him a little sad. He liked the age lines and slight gray he could see in her hair, it was a testament to their lives together.

“My love.” Sooyoung tilted her head but didn’t turn to him, her eyes on the fish moving lazily through the water under her feet. Byungho stepped closer and sat down on the bench too, the fabric of his more ornate robes brushing against her arm. “He’s okay, my love.”

“This time,” Sooyoung whispered, her features pinched. “He’s okay this time.”

Byungho reached out and took her hand, squeezing gently. “And because of him, we won’t have a war. There will be no next time.”

“How can you say that?” Sooyoung asked, whipping her head toward him so quickly her hair flared out around her. “He stepped in front of the arrow. It wasn’t even aimed at him! What’s stopping him from doing that again?”

“Nothing,” Byungho admitted, “but he did it for the right reasons.”

Pushing herself up, Sooyoung swept away, the fabric of her robe snapping as she moved her arms angrily. “I don’t care about right, I just want my sons to live and not get injured. Is that so much to ask?”

“Yes.”

Sooyoung stopped walking and spun back toward him, her face horrified. “You promised me they wouldn’t be hurt. You promised.”

Byungho nodded as he stood up and moved to her side. He reached out to touch her cheek but she stepped away, her expression hard and more than a little betrayed. He dropped his hand. “I did promise that and I will do everything in my power as their father and as king of this country to protect them but I cannot protect them from their own actions, my love. If Yoongi, hell, if Hyungki, choose to insert themselves in dangerous situations because they feel it is the right thing to do, I’m not going to interfere or punish them for that.”

Crossing her arms, Sooyoung looked away. She knew that, of course. She wanted her sons to be strong and righteous and good almost as much as she wanted them to be happy. The issue was she couldn’t stop seeing the image of Yoongi bloodstained and clinging to life. The second she’d read his letter, even knowing he was alive and healing and okay, that was all she could see—her baby bleeding out in some backwater border town she’d never even heard of. Her heart couldn’t take it. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We fought so hard for it not to be like this.”

“I know,” Byungho agreed, “but Hyungki said the witch was able to heal him. Yoongi is okay and they’re coming back. They’ll be here tomorrow.”

Sooyoung’s eyes widened in shock. “He’s healed?”

Byungho nodded. “Apparently the witch was determined to find a way to make his magic work and invented a new process. Hyungki wasn’t clear on the details but he said by the time he arrived, Yoongi was already healed and looked like he’d never been hurt at all.”

Letting her eyes fall closed, Sooyoung relaxed. Seokjin had fixed it. She wasn’t sure if that meant her little plan to push him and Yoongi together had worked or if he was just worried about his friend getting injured but regardless, she didn’t care. “We owe him a great debt.”

“Hyungki said the same. Apparently, the witch isn’t fond of the idea.”

Waving her hand, Sooyoung smiled for the first time since she’d read Yoongi’s letter. “No matter. He’s too fond of me to say no when I ask for something.”

Byungho laughed and touched her cheek gently, his heart warming when this time she didn’t move away. “Of course. Who could say no to you?”

“No one, obviously,” Sooyoung said, tilting her chin up playfully. 

The action reminded Byungho of a much younger version of his wife, who rolled her eyes and flounced—that was really the only word for the way she walked when she was upset or put out—away when he’d suggested a marriage to him would be in her best interest all those years ago. Gods, how he loved her—then and now. That knowledge made the letter he had tucked in his pocket feel leaden, like a physical weight he was carrying around. He hadn’t shown it to the council yet, which was unheard of, but he’d known he couldn’t. He needed to talk to Yoongi, talk to Sooyoung, but, at this moment, he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to erase the smile from her lips. “Join me in bed? I’ve had a long day.”

Sooyoung’s expression smoothed out to one of concern and fondness, her eyes understanding. “Ah, that council. I realize they’re a vital part of this country but must they be so… annoying?”

Byungho laughed and shook his head. “I think it’s part of the deal. My father often complained in much the same way.”

Huffing slightly, Sooyoung hooked her arm through Byungho’s and led him back into their shared rooms, her mind, for the first time since Yoongi had left the palace, calm and unworried. Her sons were coming home to her and Seokjin too. Things would finally go back to normal and the risk of war and death and sadness would be greatly reduced. That’s all she’d ever really wanted. A stable country and a happy family. It didn’t feel like too much to ask, so, as she curled up around her husband’s arm and intertwined their fingers, Sooyoung let herself pray, just a little, for those things to come to her. It couldn’t hurt, right?

♔♔♔

Though he’d known they’d be leaving soon, it still caught Yoongi by surprise when Hyungki told him they were leaving. They hadn’t even had time to handle the whole issue with the hyangni and that seemed more important than returning to the palace, but his brother merely shook his head when he pointed that out.

“I’ve sent a letter to father and the council. They’re sending a formal tribunal here to deal with the issue and put a moksa in place. Since the town is so close to the border and strategically beneficial, it’ll be someone with an extensive military background. They’re handling it. We’ve been recalled.”

Yoongi frowned. “But I’m the one who was the target! I should be here.”

“They called us back, Yoongi,” Hyungki said again, like that was all that mattered. Which, admittedly, it was. They could ignore the council but not their father, not the king. If he wanted them back, they went. The knowledge they’d be back to the palace, back to where every word, every action, was so closely monitored, made Yoongi’s mood dim noticeably. He tried to cover it but Hyungki noticed. “Court Witch Seokjin is coming… yes?”

“Of course,” Yoongi agreed immediately. “Why wouldn’t he?”

“Some members of the council wondered if perhaps he’d stay here. It appears news of his garden spread to them,” Hyungki explained.

Yoongi tensed. “Is that all the information that was spread to them?”

“As far as I can tell,” Hyungki confirmed.

“Spies everywhere,” Yoongi muttered, sighing, “but no, Seokjin will come back with us. The garden was only for the time we were here. He’s apparently been in talks with the landscaper about setting one up at the palace but Jimin decides that so it hasn’t happened yet.”

Hyungki frowned. “Why not?”

“He’s afraid of Jimin,” Yoongi revealed, laughing at the image. “I suppose he threatened him the first time they met and Seokjin never quite recovered.”

“I guess that can taint a potential friendship,” Hyungki mused, smiling at the thought of the small gardener scaring a century-old witch. 

Yoongi hummed in agreement then sighed again. “When do we leave?”

“In a few hours. The servants are already gathering your things. I had them avoid the witch’s things since I didn’t know if he was coming.”

“I’ll let him know,” Yoongi said quietly, already bowing and moving away from his brother. He’d always liked being a prince, for the most part anyway, but the idea of going back to the palace was a sad one. He wished he hadn’t been so nervous, so silly, and just accepted what Seokjin had been offering sooner. If he had, they could have had more time like the last two nights. They could have been together, alone, for weeks. Instead, they got two nights and no more.

Yoongi promised himself he wouldn’t pull back when he was at the palace, that he’d believe in Seokjin, believe in the confusing and so very strong feelings he could barely push down anymore, but he honestly wasn’t sure he was strong enough. He never had been before.

The uncertainty in his own strength was not something he was really used to and it kept him occupied until he reached his own room. He found Seokjin waiting for him outside, his arms crossed and expression contemplative. “Seokjin.”

Seokjin glanced over, seeing the servants moving around Yoongi silently and efficiently without a word, and straightened. The formality in Yoongi’s greeting irritated him slightly and that caught him by surprise. Especially since the fact that Yoongi used his name without any associated title or family name was already very familiar. More familiar than he’d get away with at the palace. And yet, not hearing the hyung at the end grated on him. He’d grown too comfortable so far away from the palace it seemed, which may now be an issue. “I hear we’re leaving.”

“In a few hours,” Yoongi confirmed, stepping past Seokjin and into his room. Seokjin followed him and closed the door, both of them watching as the silencing spell activated and glowed a soft rose gold. “I just found out. I was coming to let you know.”

“I was wondering why no one was packing my things,” Seokjin admitted, watching Yoongi’s face.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Apparently the council thought you’d be staying because I gave you the garden. Hyung wasn’t sure so he told the servants to leave your things. They’ll start moving your stuff now.”

Seokjin raised a brow. “They are aware I can make a garden anywhere, right?”

“Apparently not,” Yoongi said with a snort, smiling at Seokjin easily. Or so he thought. The second he stopped talking, Seokjin stepped closer and tapped under his chin, forcing his face upward. “What?”

“You’re not happy,” Seokjin observed.

“Ah,” Yoongi murmured, his nose scrunching. “I just thought we’d have some more time before… everything got harder again.”

Seokjin hummed, his fingers ghosting around Yoongi’s neck until they were playing with the baby hairs that had fallen out of his bun. “We spent plenty of time together before. Several entire nights, in fact.”

“I know,” Yoongi conceded, “but that was for a purpose. We won’t have one anymore.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Seokjin denied, shaking his head. “There’s still the possibility of war.”

Yoongi paused, his eyes widening. “We… we’re not done yet?”

“I’m not sure,” Seokjin admitted, his expression turning dark. “You didn’t get hurt in my initial predictions. That was not part of what I saw. Things are different now.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

“I don’t know. I want to say good. You didn’t have a connection to the other royal family in the version of events I saw before but that also means how everyone reacts now will all be new. I don’t know what— there were things that people were going to do and say that I don’t know how to predict anymore,” Seokjin explained.

He purposefully hadn’t been thinking about the potential ramifications of their actions on the future for the past few days. So many things had changed now. He’d seen himself and Yoongi go to the border town, seen them work out some things with the local officials and have a meeting with a representative from their neighbours. From there, they’d gone home with a tentative agreement and set a date for the kings to meet. Irritated by this, the general had sought to undermine the meeting by causing an issue—he didn’t know what, the vision had been chaotic and blurry—and Hyungki had figured it out and had the general executed. This act, along with Yoongi’s defensive planning, had solidified a treaty and prevented war.

Now… now, too much had changed. Namjoon had joined them on the journey and used his connections to smooth introductions instead of Yoongi doing so himself. The local official had looked the same, but he hadn’t been appropriately appointed as Seokjin had assumed based on what he’d seen. The representative of the neighbouring country had been replaced by the Crown Prince himself. Yoongi had been shot and Hyungki had left his place at the palace to come to check on them. Yoongi was supposedly a fucking witch and, perhaps most life-altering of all, he and Yoongi were together. None of that was supposed to happen. It was all different and now Seokjin had no idea what was going to happen next.

He could, in theory, just check once he was back at the palace and had his supplies, but he wasn’t sure that he would. For the first time in his life, he was afraid to see what the future held. He didn’t want to know if war would break out and send Yoongi to the front lines with the soldiers. He didn’t want to know when they’d be forced to part—when he’d be forced to watch Yoongi stand for his wedding to someone else. He didn’t want to know if the baby he’d seen hadn’t been Hyungki’s but Yoongi’s instead.

He didn’t want to know. 

A whole country was on the line and he was acting purely selfishly. He wasn’t proud of that, knew he should push past his own feelings and do the predictions as he had in the past, but he knew, without a doubt, if anyone asked, he’d refuse.

He couldn’t know.

“But you’ll help, right?” Yoongi asked, his brows furrowing in worry.

Seokjin nodded, placing a soft kiss full of affection and promise on Yoongi’s lips. “I’ll be there no matter what.”

♔♔♔

Humming softly, Seokjin finished drawing the circle in the dirt of his garden and took a seat inside. It was a simple enough spell but it took a lot of power, so he was keeping his fingers crossed that nothing happened on the way home that would require magic. In theory, he didn’t have to perform this spell, but he wanted to be safe. The last thing he needed was someone using the work he’d done for their own personal gain—whether for good or bad.

Seokjin closed his eyes and focused, his lips quirking up as he immediately pictured Yoongi imitating him and doing the same. He shook himself briefly and refocused on the task at hand, willing his magic into the circle until the flared pink. Unlike his usual spells, this circle magnified his magic, spreading it throughout the entire garden. The whole area was illuminated in a soft pink glow. He heard a small gasp behind him and knew Yoongi was reacting to the image, but ignored him and kept working. After a moment, the pink glow snapped back and hit the circle with an almost audible whoosh, then the circle brightened to an almost red shade of pink and turned dark. 

Sighing to himself, Seokjin pushed himself up and turned back to Yoongi, who was sitting on the porch area, his eyes still wide and awe-filled even if the magic glow was gone. “Okay, I’m done.”

“I didn’t expect a spell to seal magical energy to be so pretty!” Yoongi admitted, his voice full of surprise.

“I suppose it is,” Seokjin agreed. “That’s why it takes so much power. I basically need to coat every single thing in my magic and then draw it back and slap a lock and key on it.”

“So now no one can use the energy you manipulated here?” Yoongi asked.

“Nope. Not unless I come back and undo it. Or someone much more powerful than me breaks my spell,” Seokjin explained. “Until then, this garden will exist as it had before: normally.”

Yoongi nodded. “It feels different.”

“It does.”

“Still pretty though,” Yoongi murmured, then sighed. “We should go. My brother is waiting.”

Seokjin nodded and closed the distance between them. Yoongi looked up in question but Seokjin only smiled and kissed him softly. “For the trip.”

Yoongi hummed against his lips. “Too bad we couldn’t take back my carriage. Imagine what we could get up to inside there.”

“Don’t hurt me like that,” Seokjin whined, laughing slightly. The truth was he didn’t really mind that they were taking the same carriage as his brother, especially since he knew about them, but he knew, even without asking, that Yoongi would prefer it if they didn’t flaunt their new relationship in front of his brother. Yoongi wasn’t the type to like public displays of affection and Seokjin had no problem with that. “Let’s go.”

Squeezing Seokjin’s hand briefly, Yoongi stepped back and led him out of the garden. Seokjin paused long enough to lift the sealing talisman from the door before following Yoongi toward the courtyard where everyone was waiting. Servants were milling around, some still moving to add things to the carriage and ensure everything was ready for their trip home. Just to the left, Hyungki was standing with a man Yoongi recognized immediately. “Councilman Kim.”

Namjoon’s father looked up and smiled gently. “Prince Yoongi. I’m glad to hear you’ve recovered.”

“Thank you. It was all thanks to Court Witch Seokjin,” Yoongi explained, gesturing to Seokjin, who looked like he wanted to melt into the ground.

“I’ve heard. The council is quite pleased with him,” Namjoon’s father revealed, adding: “both sides.”

Hyungki rolled his eyes. “Can both sides ever approve of the same thing?”

“Not usually, but Councilman Jung was quite persuasive.”

“He usually is,” Yoongi murmured, wondering just how much he’d have to thank Hoseok for that particular development.

“Regardless, everyone is eagerly awaiting your return. I’m told Princess Taeso’s family has relocated to the palace now as well.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows raised. “Already?”

Hyungki frowned at him. “She’s nearly nine months pregnant, Yoongi.”

“Already?” Yoongi said again. It felt like just yesterday she was only six months and going through a rough patch. Had Seokjin really been around that long? Had time really flown by that fast? “I’ll have to visit her when we return.”

“You better. She’s been complaining about you ignoring her constantly and your attack didn’t help her nerves,” Hyungki revealed. He didn’t tell Yoongi that to make him feel bad, quite the opposite. He wanted Yoongi to know how much Taeso cared for him. She made it obvious, had since the moment she’d seen teenage Yoongi blinking up at her with wide, shy eyes, but it didn’t hurt to remind him every so often.

“Yes, yes, I’ll go visit noona. Sooner if you stop hanging around so we can leave,” Yoongi returned, adding just a touch of whine to his voice.

Namjoon’s father snorted before covering his mouth and bowing. “I’ll keep you informed concerning how the tribunal goes. If you need anything, let me or Namjoon know.”

“Thank you, Councilman Kim,” Hyungki said seriously, inclining his head before he turned to Yoongi and Seokjin. “Ready to go?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Yoongi said just as seriously, glancing at Seokjin.

Seokjin smiled at him, hoping to convey that everything was going to be okay, that they’d made it through the worst of it, but he wasn’t sure if it was convincing. What he did know was that Yoongi smiled back at him and, less than five minutes later, they were in the carriage and on their way back to the palace. Back to where all this had first begun. Back to where the last remnants of potential war causes remained. 

Back to normal.

That should have made him feel as uneasy as it did.

Chapter Text

It was odd for Seokjin that, after such a short period of time, his first thought when the carriage rolled to a stop and the doors were opened was ‘I’m home.’ He’d never really had a home before. The house he’d been raised in hadn’t been a home he’d stayed in long—his parents had sent him away when his magic manifested. They weren’t, or rather, hadn’t been, hateful people, but they had been afraid. Seokjin had never faulted them for that. Then he’d lived with his teacher at his home but there had been other students, other witches who were much older and more experienced than him there too, so he’d never thought of it as a home. The rest of his life had been spent traveling, moving from one city, one country, to the next. There was no home to be found there either. 

The closest he’d ever gotten was Taehyung’s cottage and the small house he’d rented out before the queen had found him. Now that he was thinking about it closely, his mind wandering as he watched Hyungki and Yoongi make their way up the palace stairs, he’d even felt more at home in the house they’d stayed in on the border than he had in any of those places. 

Seokjin followed the procession up the stairs, making sure to remain in the proper position as was befitting his status. Usually, he wouldn’t bother, but if he wanted to stay with Yoongi, stay close to him, he knew he’d have to start paying attention to the little things he’d always been able to ignore before. He wasn’t particularly thrilled at the idea, but as he watched Yoongi smile and bow to his parents, his mother’s hands fussing over him despite the audience, Seokjin figured he’d be just fine.

“Seokjin!” 

His eyes widening, Seokjin bowed to the queen. “Queen Sooyoung.”

“Come here! What are you doing all the way back there?” The queen chastised, waving her hand to invite him over. The councilmen who’d come to see the princes’ arrival shifted awkwardly, some murmurs spreading through the crowd. She was breaking custom to invite him closer, especially since her sons were still standing in front of her. Seokjin met Yoongi’s amused eyes and hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to handle this. Sooyoung didn’t bother waiting for him to decide. “You healed my son, did you not? Is that not worthy of coming closer?”

At that, the previously displeased rumble shifted, the tone lightening. It’d only been the night before that the council was told of Seokjin’s success in healing Yoongi but apparently that was long enough for them to forget. Or they’d just been grumbling for the sake of it. Seokjin suspected the latter but it didn’t matter to him. He just smiled slightly and moved closer as she’d ordered, bowing again. “Your Highness.”

The queen turned to him and lifted him from his bow, grasping his hands and squeezing firmly. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did.”

“Me neither,” Yoongi added, his expression soft as he watched his mother and Seokjin interact.

“It was nothing,” Seokjin rebutted, shaking his head.

“I told you he’s being modest,” Hyungki sighed out, his head shaking as he looked at his father.

The king nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on Seokjin. “A rarity in our circles.”

“I’m never modest,” Seokjin denied. “Just realistic.”

For some reason, that made the king smile slightly. “Regardless, we thank you. Hyungki, your wife is asking for you. The doctors barred her from meeting you here so she’s in your rooms. She wants to see you as well, Yoongi.”

Yoongi inclined his head. “I’ll go see her now.”

“Good. Tomorrow, once you’ve rested,” the king hesitated, “we should have a meeting.”

Something about his tone made Yoongi pause, his brows furrowed. He glanced at his mother but she looked just as confused. “Of course, father.”

With a final nod, the king lifted his hand for his wife to take and then left, their attendants trailing after them. The remaining onlookers dispersed as well, leaving servants who’d paused their duties to continue undisturbed. Seokjin lifted a brow. “You often have formal meetings with your father or is that just his way of asking for quality time?”

Yoongi shook his head. “No, that’s unusual. Do you know what it’s about, hyung?”

Hyungki grimaced. “It could be about me.”

“You?” Yoongi asked, confused.

“Or rather…” Hyungki sighed. “I really didn’t want to get into this but… while you were gone, there were some… issues about the line of succession.”

Immediately, Yoongi took a step back. “I’ll literally remove my own name from the family charter before I become the crown prince, hyung.”

Hyungki snorted and shook his head, his expression softening just a bit. “No, it’s not you. Like I said, it’s me. The council won’t recognize my child if she’s a girl as Seokjin predicted.”

“What?” Yoongi managed.

“It happened just after you left. I don’t know how they even heard about it but they did and they wanted to make their stance clear,” Hyungki explained, his expression clouded. “Father was furious but there’s nothing he can do.”

“Why not?” Seokjin asked at the same time as Yoongi snapped out, “What was Hoseok doing during all this?”

Hyungki glanced between them, answering Seokjin first. “The council has to agree on an heir or it can lead to civil war. That’s what happened with our father and uncle—they chose sides. If we insist on the heir being my daughter and they disagree, they’ll choose someone else and push them forward instead. It’d lead to bloodshed. Again.”

“And Hoseok?” Yoongi asked again, his anger intensifying.

“He tried,” Hyungki admitted. “I could see him frantically trying to get his dad to speak up but when he did, it was… weak. They wanted to remove her from the line of succession entirely, but he managed to get them to agree to hold off until a ‘more suitable heir’ was born just in case she was the only one.”

Yoongi rubbed his face, uncaring that he was in full view of dozens of people. “This is bullshit.”

“You’re telling me. Taeso doesn’t know. Don’t— she doesn’t need to know,” Hyungki murmured.

“I won’t say anything,” Yoongi promised. “So he wants to meet with me to discuss heirs?”

“Probably. We agreed not to tell you until you got back,” Hyungki explained.

“Welcome home, Yoongi,” Yoongi muttered to himself, sighing. “Bring me to see noona. I need something to cheer me up.”

“Ouch. I’m standing right here,” Seokjin teased, trying to lighten the mood. It was the best he could do. He was honestly surprised that the king and Hyungki had even tried to put his daughter in the line of succession so he really didn’t have anything insightful to add. It was incredibly rare, almost unheard of, for a woman to inherit the throne when there were male counterparts still alive. Seokjin suspected Yoongi’s father was planning on telling him he’d have to play the part of heir until Hyungki had a son. It wasn’t pretty and Seokjin was sad to know the little girl he’d seen toddling along in his predictions wouldn’t get the birthright her family had intended for her, but it was the reality and there was nothing he could do about that.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “I’ll come to you for that later.”

“Gross,” Hyungki interjected, already spinning on his heel and walking away.

“Don’t you think he flounces when he’s upset?” Yoongi observed, smiling at Seokjin.

Seokjin laughed, the sound loud and attention-grabbing. “Your mother walks the same way.”

“I know,” Yoongi whispered, leaning forward. A second later he caught himself and straightened, his eyes shuttering as they darted around quickly to check if anyone had seen his momentary slip. No one seemed to be looking so he relaxed. “I’ll see you later?”

Humming, Seokjin nodded. “Sure. Come by my rooms?”

“I will,” Yoongi promised before turning and following after Hyungki. Seokjin watched him go, his mind spinning with everything that had happened in the short time they’d been back at the palace. Yoongi hadn’t been kidding when he said it’d be harder, but Seokjin still wasn’t upset even if that uneasy feeling hadn’t quite gone away.

He was home after all.

♔♔♔

“Yoongichi!” Taeso called out, her expression brightening as she pushed herself up from where she’d been sitting and walked over to him. 

Or rather waddled. Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh, his heart warming at the sight. “You look like you’re about to pop! How many babies are you hiding in there?”

Taeso pouted and smacked Yoongi before gathering him in a hug. Yoongi hesitated for a moment, they almost never hugged, then relaxed into her hold, careful to keep his body angled away from her belly. “I was so worried about you, Yoongichi. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Sorry, noona,” Yoongi apologized immediately, remembering what Hyungki had said before about how hard she’d taken the news.

“Just don’t do something so stupid again,” Taeso chastized, pulling back. “Stepping in front of an arrow? Really, Yoongichi?”

Yoongi shrugged sheepishly. “It made sense at the time?”

Taeso shook her head. “Just wait until your mother gets you alone.”

“I’m going to be avoiding that for the foreseeable future, thanks,” Yoongi said, only half kidding. Not only did he know that his mother was going to be very upset about his previous injury, he also had to deal with the reality that she now knew about his sexuality. She hadn’t been acting any different but it still made him anxious. Very few people knew about him and he’d honestly preferred to keep it that way.

“Good luck,” Hyungki called from just inside the door to their bedroom. He emerged a few seconds later having changed out of his traveling robe and went straight to his wife’s side, helping her sit back down into her seat. “I only saw her for a moment before I left but she was upset.”

“Understatement,” Taeso added. “I think the only reason she didn’t lose it was because she was worried she’d upset me and the baby.”

“Speaking of the baby,” Yoongi interjected, hoping to change the subject, “when’s she making her grand debut?”

Taeso rubbed her stomach. “Soon? The doctors say next week.”

“I can’t wait to steal her away,” Yoongi joked, smiling at his brother and sister-in-law. They’d sort of gravitated together since Hyungki had taken a seat next to her, their bodies ever so slightly tilted towards each other. Yoongi had noticed it before of course but it hit him anew now. They were just so in love and so lucky that things had worked out in their favour. It could have easily gone another way but it hadn’t and he was so happy for them. 

“Yoongichi?” 

Yoongi blinked, realizing he’d missed something. “Yes?”

“You okay?” Taeso asked, shooting a quick glance at Hyungki, who shrugged.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Yoongi assured her. “I’m just really happy for you two. Seriously.”

Hyungki tilted his head, his eyes sweeping over Yoongi’s face in question. It wasn’t like they didn’t talk about things like this, or even that he thought Yoongi wouldn’t be happy for them. It was just that his tone was… off. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Absolutely. I was just thinking that you both got lucky,” Yoongi admitted, shrugging a bit. “Our parents too. It’s… nice.”

Taeso narrowed her eyes. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Yoongi asked, tilting his head.

“Did you get lucky?” Taeso asked.

Yoongi cleared his throat and straightened. “Should we order some—”

“She knows, Yoongi,” Hyungki interrupted softly. 

Stiffening, Yoongi sent Hyungki a betrayed look but Taeso waved him off. “Yoongichi, I’ve known you since you were fifteen years old. How could I not know? I knew before Hyungki did. Plus, he didn’t even know I knew until recently.”

“I— what?” Yoongi managed. He felt like his brain was malfunctioning. 

Taeso sighed, then tried to explain why she hadn’t said anything sooner. “We’d only just met and I didn’t want to say anything in case you weren’t… aware.”

“Aware,” Yoongi repeated lamely. 

Glancing at Hyungki again as if in reassurance, Taeso explained, “ I saw the way you watched my brother when he came with me to visit. And the young guard that was assigned to protect you. It didn’t take much to connect the dots.”

Yoongi wanted to melt into the floor. He didn’t even remember looking at Taeso’s brother. He was older than Hyungki by a few years which made him easily ten years older than Yoongi. But then again, fifteen-year-old Yoongi hadn’t exactly been picky about his attraction. Gods. “I don’t remember that.”

Taeso smiled softly. “I do.”

“This is mortifying, I hope you’re aware,” Yoongi muttered. He wasn’t even sure why they were having this conversation. Why were they suddenly talking about his sexuality at all?

“Perhaps, but you never answered my question: did you get lucky?” Taeso repeated, her eyes unwavering on his face.

Yoongi blinked in confusion. “No?”

“Really?” Taeso murmured. “I had thought that Seokjin would match you well.”

“Oh my gods, do you have to tell her everything?” Yoongi whined, his face turning red as he looked at his brother in horror.

Hyungki raised his hands. “I didn’t say a word.”

Taeso laughed, the sound happy and loud. It made both Yoongi and Hyungki look at her, their expressions soft. After a few moments, she cleared her throat, still smiling. “Yoongichi, my dear, sweet, baby brother. You are not subtle. But then again, neither is he. Every time we met for tea, he’d ask about you or bring you up some other way. It was cute. I remember being like that. My brother was very tired of me by the time we got married.”

That made Hyungki sit straighter, his expression pleased. Yoongi rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. He didn’t really know how to respond to all this, so he just shrugged. “We’re… trying.”

“That’s good,” Taeso murmured. “Perhaps that would be easier if we’d had children earlier…”

Yoongi’s eyes snapped to Taeso. They didn’t talk about how long they’d been trying to have children for obvious reasons so it was surprising for her to bring it up. It also made the council refusing to acknowledge their future daughter all the more galling. But that was for another time. “The best things come to those who wait. Seokjin tells me she’s going to be a little handful.”

That wasn’t technically true but given that he was planning on spoiling that baby rotten and he knew the whole family would do the same, he figured it was a true enough statement.

“Yea?” Taeso murmured, rubbing her belly again.

“Plus, what’re a few more years? It’s not like father has even considered stepping down. At this rate, your grandkids will end up on the throne instead.”

Taeso laughed, the earlier somewhat melancholy expression fading. “Don’t think I missed the way you changed the topic again. Tell me about you and Seokjin!”

“Does a brother really have to hear this?” Hyungki mused half-heartedly.

“You can go,” Taeso quipped easily, earning a gentle hair tug from Hyungki in retaliation.

Yoongi smiled at them. “I won’t torture hyung with details.”

“But I want details!” Taeso demanded, then waved her hand when Hyungki made a displeased noise. “Not those details.”

Sighing, Yoongi’s eyes drifted around the room, lingering on the remnants of both his brother and sister-in-law scattered around it. He couldn’t help but wonder if his rooms would look like that if he and Seokjin stayed together. Would he go looking for a scroll and find one of Seokjin’s instead? Would Seokjin look for a robe to wear and grab one of Yoongi’s by accident only to put it back when it was too short? Yoongi bit his lip, smiling at the image.

“Oh, cute! Tell me, tell me!” Taeso demanded, seeing Yoongi’s expression.

Yoongi tugged on his ear shyly, his attention returning to Taeso. “I don’t know what’s going to happen or how long it will last but… I’m really happy right now, noona.”

Taeso’s whole body relaxed as she stared at him, her eyes softening even further. “Oh, Yoongichi. I’m so glad.”

“Yea… me too,” Yoongi replied, smiling as he glanced down. He could feel them both looking at him, feel how happy they both were for him, and his smile widened. “Me too.”

♔♔♔

Stretching out his legs, Seokjin leaned back against the shelf behind him and sighed, his eyes moving over the pages of the frankly mammoth book he was flipping through. It was one of a few dozen he owned but this one, in particular, had been a gift from his former teacher. It contained pretty much all known information on how magic worked—or what they knew so far. Every witch got one when they finished their training. He often didn’t carry it with him—again, it was huge—so Taehyung stored it for him, but he was glad he’d thought to take it back when he’d gone to see him before.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for specifically but he wanted to see if he could find any references to magic users mixing their power. Though it didn’t bother him, the memory of the rose gold magic he and Yoongi created together was nagging at him. How had that happened? It was especially odd considering Yoongi’s power was minimal at best. It didn’t seem to work without Seokjin there to magnify it so how could their magic possibly mix?

“Knock knock.”

Smiling to himself, Seokjin glanced up just as Yoongi stepped inside his rooms and closed the door behind him. “Yoongi.”

“I figured I should announce myself,” Yoongi explained, leaning back against the door, his hands hidden behind his back.

Seokjin pushed back from the table and stood up, leaving the book open to the random page he’d been on. He moved to stand in front of Yoongi, unsure why he hadn’t come further in. “Are you hiding something behind your back I can’t see?”

“No,” Yoongi denied, shaking his head. “I just figured you’d want to redo the talismans in your rooms.”

“Why?” Seokjin murmured, his hand moving to Yoongi’s face. Yoongi tilted his head towards it but he kept moving, his fingers deftly undoing the bun Yoongi had secured his hair into and letting it fall down loose around his shoulders. Yoongi sighed quietly, his expression relaxing a bit. “I wonder if there’s a spell to make your hair lighter.”

Yoongi snorted. “I think something to ease the tension headache from keeping it up all the time would be good enough.”

“Perhaps,” Seokjin mused, already winding his fingers into Yoongi’s hair to massage his scalp. The longer he spent around Yoongi, the more he understood why he wore his hair down or only half up as much as possible. It was heavy. “How was Princess Taeso?”

“Good,” Yoongi breathed out with a small pleased hum, his eyes half-closed as Seokjin kept up his ministrations. “Very pregnant but happy. They’re both really happy.”

“That’s good,” Seokjin replied.

“She’s already worried about how her not having children earlier will affect me so I don’t know how she’ll take the news about the succession,” Yoongi admitted, frowning slightly, “but for now she’s happy.”

Seokjin hesitated, his fingers pausing. He’d noticed, of course, that both Taeso and Hyungki were older than he’d expected when he’d found out she was having her first child, but he hadn’t asked. Mostly because it wasn’t his business. “They had… trouble?”

“A bit,” Yoongi confirmed. “Nothing bad. They just never quite managed it, I guess.”

“I have things that can help with that,” Seokjin said after a moment. He felt kinda weird mentioning that to Yoongi but he knew how important both Taeso and Hyungki were to him so he did it anyway.

Yoongi opened his eyes. “I’d mention that to noona at some point. Maybe in a year or so.”

The idea that he’d be here, with Yoongi, in a year, made Seokjin smile. “I’ll do that.”

“So, the talismans?” Yoongi prompted.

“In a minute,” Seokjin murmured, leaning down to capture Yoongi’s lips with his own. Yoongi relaxed against the door, his hands moving to the front of Seokjin’s robes and grabbing on. Seokjin felt Yoongi sigh against his lips, and knowing that it was a small, happy sound, pressed even harder against him before forcing himself to step back. “Okay, talismans.”

Yoongi laughed, the sound a bit breathless, and raised a brow at him. “Miss me?”

“I did,” Seokjin admitted, only then realizing that he actually had. “I’ll have to get used to not seeing you every day.”

Humming, Yoongi’s eyes swept over Seokjin. He remembered his earlier thoughts about their living spaces merging and felt a small, pleased smile stretch his lips. Standing here now with Seokjin looking down at him, his expression soft and a little heated, Yoongi wanted to ask Seokjin to move his things into his room, to spend more time with him there. Like before, he found, when he thought of Seokjin, he just wanted so much. But they’d only just arrived back at the palace. They had to reacquaint themselves with this place and figure out how their dynamic would work here. Once they’d done that, Yoongi would ask. Until then, he was content with this. “I guess I’ll have to find out a reason to have a daily meeting with the court witch.”

Seokjin raised a brow, noticing Yoongi’s long pause before he responded. That told him he wasn’t saying what he was really thinking but, seeing that Yoongi didn’t look upset or nervous, Seokjin decided to let it go. For now. “I’m sure I can find some reason that the prince absolutely must see me regularly.”

“It’ll be a hardship, but it’s my duty,” Yoongi teased, pushing up on his toes so he could touch his lips to Seokjin’s briefly.

The light kiss made Seokjin think about Yoongi’s previous pause. He was starting to realize after spending so much time with Yoongi that he rarely said what he wanted clearly. He’d had a suspicion, of course, but when Yoongi had confessed and asked to be with him so firmly, he’d assumed he was wrong. He wasn’t. Yoongi hedged and offered and suggested, but he didn’t ask. Good thing he considered himself a very adept reader of one Min Yoongi. “You sacrifice so much for your country.”

“Someone really does need to thank me for that,” Yoongi whispered.

“Of course,” Seokjin murmured, his eyes darkening. “I volunteer.”

“I accept,” Yoongi replied instantly, slamming their lips together before the words had even finished leaving his mouth. Seokjin groaned against him and stumbled back, dragging Yoongi with him. He’d already managed to pull him to the middle of the room when Yoongi tore himself away. “Talismans. The talismans.”

“Fuck, right,” Seokjin muttered, his breathing unsteady. He didn’t know why he was suddenly thrumming with an almost overwhelming feeling of want but he was. Something about the look in Yoongi’s eye made his heart race and his hands reach out. He’d already started to grab for him again when he caught himself with a small laugh and sighed. “Talismans.”

It took less than ten minutes to change all the talismans in Seokjin’s room and even less time than that for Yoongi to all but toss Seokjin into his bed and crawl on top of him, hurriedly tugging at the edges of Seokjin’s robes. Seokjin let himself be manhandled, let Yoongi take control. That feeling of want had only gotten worse, more urgent as Yoongi looked up at him, his soft golden magic flowing into the talisman he held for them both. He was starting to associate magic with foreplay and he knew that would come back to bite him but at this moment he didn’t care. 

Especially not as Yoongi wiggled down his body and pulled his trousers off with a decisive yank. Nothing mattered at all right now—only the feeling of Yoongi’s mouth closing around him, moving with the confidence of a man who now knew exactly what his partner liked. All he could do was thrust up into his mouth, listening to the delicate slurps and moans that left Yoongi’s mouth and reverberated through his cock. He let himself languish in the feeling, his eyes fixed on the soft rise of Yoongi’s cheeks and the way his lashes rested on them, on the way his lips stretched wide and darkened to a red that reminded Seokjin of the flowers Jimin had planted outside his rooms.

Seokjin could stare at him all day but that wasn’t what he wanted so he reached down to sink his hands into Yoongi’s hair and tug, dragging him upward until they were eye to eye. “Trying to make me come so quickly. What’s the hurry?”

“I missed you too,” Yoongi confessed against his lips, shifting so he was cradled between Seokjin’s thighs. Seokjin had almost forgotten that he’d confessed to missing him but Yoongi apparently hadn’t and that made Seokjin’s heart rate pick up. Even more so as Yoongi continued to explain, “We kept talking about you before. They kept asking about us, how it was, and I just wanted to come back here and see you. Touch you, hear you laugh. I wanted to be here with you.”

“Yea? I wanted you here too. Always want you here. What did you tell them about us, Yoongi?” Seokjin wondered even as he pushed Yoongi’s robes aside and slid his trousers down around his ass so his cock was bare and pressed up against his own.

“That I was happy,” Yoongi whispered, his breathing ragged.

Though he wasn’t sure why, that made Seokjin close the small distance between them and kiss Yoongi hard, his hand wrapping around both of their dicks and stroking quickly. “Yea? You’re happy?”

Yoongi nodded, his hand joining Seokjin’s, their fingers intertwining around their cocks. “Yea— yes. You— you make me happy.”

Seokjin groaned, eyelids fluttering closed. Having Yoongi pressed down on him, holding him in place all while trembling and moaning above him was a lot but his frantic confession that Seokjin made him happy was so much more. It felt silly and honestly told him more about his own emotional state than anything else had, but it was true. “I feel the same, Yoongi. Not just for now. You just do. You make me happy.”

“Hyung, I—” Yoongi broke off, his eyebrows furrowing as he buried his face in Seokjin’s shoulder. Seokjin figured that was a bit much but that was okay. All of this was a bit much, every interaction, every part of their lives right now, was too much, so it was fine. Especially when it was almost immediately followed by Yoongi’s magic hitting him like a wall, his body shaking above him as he came. He could, apparently, deal with too much for as long as it was necessary to keep being with Yoongi like this.

If that wasn’t a confession, he didn’t know what was.

♔♔♔

Knocking on the doors to his parents’ rooms felt much different than knocking on the door of Seokjin’s the night before. Not only because it lacked the undercurrent of anticipation and happiness but because he almost never went to them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d stepped foot inside. He must have been under ten since he vaguely remembered pulling on his mother’s robes as she embroidered something. The memory, soft and fuzzy as it was, did little to ease his tension. He just couldn’t figure out a reason why his father had asked for Yoongi to meet him here.

“Prince Yoongi,” a servant greeted, bowing as she opened the door, “the king is expecting you.”

Yoongi inclined his head and stepped inside, both eyebrows rising as the servant stepped outside and closed the door behind her instead of staying in the room. He turned around once the door was closed, frowning slightly. He found his mother sitting off to the side, her attention on several swatches of fabric. “Mother.”

Sooyoung glanced up and smiled, waving him over. “Yoongi. Come help me choose.”

Doing as he was told, Yoongi moved to the table and scanned the options. There were several colours but a dark, navy blue caught his eye. “That one.”

“This one?” Sooyoung clarified, picking up the small square of fabric. She held it up towards him and tilted her head. “This colour suits your fair skin but not so much mine. I’ll have them make you a new set of robes in it.”

“We’re picking for you, are we not?” Yoongi asked, shaking his head. “No need to get me something too.”

Ignoring him completely, Sooyoung put the swatch down off to the side and continued staring. She frowned slightly, not looking up when the king walked into the room. “Byungho, help me choose.”

“The red, my love. You always look best in red,” Byungho answered, smiling as Yoongi greeted him with a bow.

“I do,” Sooyoung agreed and, choosing a red that complemented the navy she’d chosen from Yoongi and the green she’d already set aside for Hyungki, finally looked up. “Now, what was so important you had us both meet you here?”

Byungho’s face dropped slightly and he sighed, taking a small folded parchment from his sleeve. It was curved around the edges, telling Yoongi it had been rolled before, but for some reason, his father had folded it and hidden it away. Yoongi was even more surprised when the king handed it to him. “Read this.”

“Okay?” Yoongi said hesitantly, taking the offered parchment. Slowly, he unfolded it, his fingers hesitating when he spotted the royal seal. “King Lee?”

“Yes,” Byungho confirmed, turning away so he could take a seat opposite his wife. She was staring at him hard but he wouldn’t meet her eye. “It came two days ago. No one has seen it but me.”

Yoongi’s frown deepened, that uneasy feeling skyrocketing upon hearing his father had just blatantly broken the rules. Official correspondence had to be opened and read in front of court officials or historians, that’s how it went. Yoongi couldn’t understand why his father would break such a long-standing rule.

At least not until he read the letter.

Immediately, his fingers started to tremble on the paper, his breathing growing erratic. No, no, not now. Why now? “Father, I—”

He barely managed to force out those words before his mother was upon him, snatching the letter away and reading it just as quickly. Unlike Yoongi, she had no problem vocalizing her thoughts. “Byungho, what is this?”

“A marriage proposal,” Byungho answered softly, watching Yoongi closely. He was still staring at where the letter had been, his eyes panicked even if his expression was blank. “King Lee wants Yoongi to marry his daughter.”

“No. Never. Not happening,” Sooyoung rejected immediately.

“Mother…” Yoongi trailed off, an odd note in his voice.

“I said no, Yoongi,” Sooyoung hissed, turning on her husband. “We talked about this! You said we’d never—”

“I know what I said, Soo!” Byungho snapped. “Why do you think we’re doing this here!?”

Sooyoung frowned and crossed her arms, her expression pained. She felt like she was always snapping at her husband lately and she felt bad but this was the lives of their children! She couldn’t just stand by silently. She’d never been, nor would she ever be, that kind of woman. “It’s not happening.”

“We can’t do that, Mother,” Yoongi whispered, his eyes still downcast.

“Of course we can,” Sooyoung said, waving her hand dismissively.

Byungho sighed. “Apparently, your actions impressed Crown Prince Lee so much that he convinced his father that an alliance rather than a stalemate would be best. King Lee has never been this complimentary in a letter ever.”

Sooyoung threw up her hands. “He didn’t even thank Yoongi for saving his son’s life. How is that complimentary?”

“He acknowledged that Yoongi took action. For him, that’s huge,” Byungho explained. “You’ve met him, Soo. You know how he is.”

Grimacing, Sooyoung nodded. She’d only met him once and it’d been during Byungho’s coronation so she’d been otherwise occupied but he was a largely disagreeable man. The fact that Yoongi seemed to like his son was a miracle. “I do.”

Yoongi was aware he wasn’t saying much, that he should really offer more input considering they were discussing his life, but he couldn’t manage it. He felt like everything was falling down around his ears. Last night, he’d been so happy. Seokjin had held him so tight and they’d spent most of the night just talking. He’d learned so much about Seokjin’s travels, who he was as a person. The witch apparently liked puns! He hadn’t known that before, and while he personally thought they were the worst type of humour, Seokjin’s face when he told one was so bright, so happy, that he couldn’t help but smile. How had he left that comforting atmosphere, how had he left Seokjin’s arms and bed, only to walk into this?

“Yoongi?”

At the sound of his father’s voice, Yoongi lifted his head, meeting his concerned eyes. “Yes?”

“What do you think?”

“I think, if we refuse, we run the risk of angering King Lee and exacerbating an already tenuous situation,” Yoongi said slowly, each word that left his mouth feeling like a physical blow. It was like his brain was doing the speaking without any regard for his heart. All this training, all his political mindedness, was driving him forward even as his heart screamed.

Sooyoung moved to Yoongi’s side and cupped his cheeks. “This is your life, Yoongi. I won’t let you throw it away.”

“Soo—”

“Byungho! He can’t, okay? He’s—” Sooyoung stopped herself, shame washing over her as she slammed her mouth closed. She felt Yoongi tense in her hands and wanted to cry. How could she nearly blurt that out? How could she almost betray Yoongi’s confidence so casually? “He’s allowed to choose who he wants. We agreed to that.”

“I know,” Byungho admitted quietly. It was only then that Sooyoung registered how defeated her husband sounded. Of course he knew, that’s why he’d hidden the letter away. But Byungho knew it wasn’t that simple anymore. If this had been peacetime, if a war hadn’t been looming, Byungho would have rejected the proposal without even asking Yoongi. But it wasn’t those times and things were different. Byungho met Yoongi’s eyes and saw the same understanding on his son’s face. That look alone made Byungho feel like he’d aged a decade. 

Yoongi swallowed, his eyelashes fluttering as his mind raced. They could say no, he could say no, his father was giving him that opportunity, but if they did, it could tip the balance. Yoongi knew that Crown Prince Dongha liked him, trusted him even, but King Lee was a mystery. At least to him. He hadn’t known his parents had met the man—though that made sense—and his father’s opinion of him didn’t seem to be high. He clearly thought a slight like refusing a marriage alliance would be a mistake. Which meant, though he was giving Yoongi the chance to say no, he really shouldn’t, even if he desperately wanted to. “Did he say— did he say how much time we have to respond?”

Byungho dropped his hands from Yoongi’s shoulders and stepped back. He felt he was betraying everything he’d promised himself and his wife all those years ago and it pained him, but, at the end of the day, he was still king and a king had responsibilities. “No, but the messenger is waiting in the city rather than returning to the palace, so my impression was that it needed to be soon.”

Yoongi nodded, his throat working. It hurt to swallow, like his throat was constrained, trying to choke him. “The council meets tomorrow.”

“They do,” Byungho confirmed at the same time Sooyoung stepped towards Yoongi and tried to grab his hand. Yoongi moved away, not looking at his mother, but that didn’t stop her from trying one last time.

“Yoongi, please.”

“It’s okay, mom,” Yoongi whispered, speaking more casually than he had since he’d turned eight and realized what formal speech was. “It’ll be okay.”

Not just for now… You make me happy

“It’ll be okay,” Yoongi repeated, squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn’t see the devastated expression on his mother’s face and the resigned look on his father’s. So he wouldn’t see the truth there they all knew was coming regardless of the fact they still had to propose it to the council: Yoongi was going to get married.

Chapter Text

When Yoongi finally managed to leave his parents’ rooms, he felt like he’d been hollowed out. He moved mindlessly, heading towards Seokjin’s rooms. He honestly wasn’t sure he could see him right now, could explain, but there was also nowhere else he wanted to be, no one else he wanted to see, so that’s where he went.

He was about halfway there when he spotted Jungkook. He was standing off to the side of a pathway that connected the main courtyard to the east side of the palace staring at the ground. Yoongi blinked at him, momentarily pulled out of his own sadness by his confusion. It wasn’t until Jungkook kneeled down that he understood.

The flowers.

Now that he was kneeling, Yoongi could see the soft pink flowers Jimin had been working on. He’d been trying to grow camellia flowers that bloomed out of season since they were pretty and had no scent. Yoongi didn’t know much about flowers but he recognized the work his friend had been doing and, seeing Jungkook’s happy smile as he touched the petals delicately, figured he’d succeeded.

Spinning on his heel, Yoongi changed direction and made a beeline for Jimin’s workshop. He didn’t even know if he’d be there but that didn’t stop him. Thankfully, he was leaning at a tabletop writing something down, order forms based on what little Yoongi could see, so Yoongi didn’t have to go looking for him. “Jimin.”

Jimin’s head lifted, a snarky comment on his lips about Yoongi not coming to visit him sooner, but the second he saw Yoongi’s face, he straightened, his expression worried. “What’s wrong? What happened? Is the Princess—”

“She’s fine. Noona is fine. I—” Yoongi stopped, his breath stuttering. Jimin’s concerned and soft expression wasn’t something he saw often and hit him like a physical blow but he couldn’t break down here. He needed to hold it together. “I need a favour and I need— please just don’t— can you just do me a favour?”

“Anything, hyung,” Jimin agreed immediately, rounding the table and moving to stand in front of Yoongi. He grabbed his hands and squeezed, his eyes darting between Yoongi’s. It was clear he was near tears, his eyes already swollen and shiny, and his breathing was erratic. “First I need you to breathe with me and tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t, I—” Yoongi stopped again, biting his lip as Jimin moved into his line of vision and started to breathe slowly. Yoongi started to mimic his actions without even really meaning to, his eyes fixed on Jimin’s as the firm hold made him feel more grounded. After a few minutes, Yoongi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I need you to give me a plot of land for a garden.”

Jimin blinked in confusion but nodded. “Where?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi whispered. “Seokjin will know.”

Tightening his hold on Yoongi’s hand, Jimin’s voice turned soft. “Did he do something to you, hyung? Is he why—”

“No! No, he didn’t— he just— he needs a garden for his witchcraft and I wanted him to feel at home here. A garden— it’ll make him feel at home,” Yoongi explained hastily.

“He can have any plot he wants even if I have to rip up every plant that I’ve already planted there,” Jimin said honestly—there was very little he wouldn’t do for Yoongi if he asked, mostly because he never asked for anything—but… “I need you to tell me why you’re so upset first. Please, hyung. I’m scared.”

Yoongi’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry.”

Jimin didn’t think he’d ever heard Yoongi apologize. Ever. It just wasn’t something royalty did and it left him shaken. “Hyung, what the hell is going on? Are we going to war? Are you going to the front?”

“No, gods, no,” Yoongi rushed to say, pulling his hands away from Jimin’s so he could rub his face. He pressed down hard on his eyes then took another deep breath. He was being ridiculous. He needed to calm down so he could get done what he’d come here to do. “I’m getting married.”

“What?” Jimin managed, his expression confused. “What did you just say?”

“I’m getting married,” Yoongi repeated, his breath hitching as he said it again. “It’s not— official. But King Lee proposed— he has a daughter— I— I’m getting married.”

“No,” Jimin said simply. “No. That’s not— no.”

For some reason, that made Yoongi smile even if it was wobbly. “That’s what my mother said but I— the council will talk it over tomorrow and then— I guess they’ll come to… visit.”

Jimin shook his head. He’d only managed to catch sight of Yoongi briefly the day before after he’d arrived back at the palace but even in the few minutes he’d seen him, he’d noticed how much happier Yoongi had seemed. For the first time since Jimin befriended Yoongi, Jimin could actually see that he was happy. He couldn’t lose that so soon, not after he’d just found it. “Hyung, you can’t. You have the court witch now and— you can’t.”

Yoongi pressed his lips together. “We already talked about this. I knew— it was always a possibility. That’s why, uh, the garden. He loves gardens and I thought— as an apology. And a thank you. Just… a gift.”

“Gods, hyung,” Jimin whispered, his own eyes stinging as he watched Yoongi’s turn glassy.

“I don’t really know what he’s looking for though,” Yoongi continued. His hand moved to his hair then stopped before he could touch it. For a moment, his hand hovered there then it fell and he started fiddling with his belt. “There’s an energy requirement. Something like a plant aura, I think. He'll probably need to see a bunch of places.”

Jimin licked his lips. He was a man who knew almost everything that went on in this palace. Hell, he knew most of what was going on outside the palace too. He had information and sources and a half-dozen favours that he could call in. He had so much but none of that would help Yoongi, so, at that moment, all he could do was nod. “I’ll find him somewhere beautiful.”

“Thanks, Jimin,” Yoongi whispered. “I’ll send him by tomorrow.”

“During the council meeting?” Jimin asked pointedly, watching Yoongi as he turned to leave. Yoongi hesitated a moment, then inclined his head and walked out of the workroom without another word. Jimin wanted to scream. Yoongi was nearly thirty years old. Why only now that he’d found someone did a marriage proposal come? If this had happened last year, even six months ago, Yoongi would have just agreed with little care. It wouldn’t have broken him. Instead, he got a taste of happiness only to have it torn away before he could really enjoy it. At that moment, Jimin hated the Min family. They all got their happily ever after, their perfect spouse and family they could raise in a safe country that was bought with the happiness of someone else. 

With Yoongi’s happiness.

Slamming his hand on the workstation, Jimin let out an angry sound, watching as his brush rolled off the table and clattered on the floor. He stared at the blotch of ink for a moment, letting himself seethe, then deflated and went to his files to start digging out the maps of the palace and the garden areas. If he couldn’t help Yoongi with this marriage, the least he could do was what he asked.

♔♔♔

Yoongi didn’t go to Seokjin’s rooms. In fact, he didn’t go anywhere. He knew he should go see his brother, Seokjin, but he didn’t. After seeing the look on Jimin’s face, all he could do was go back to his own rooms and hide himself away.

He didn’t cry, which surprised him. By the time he’d entered his rooms, he’d been prepared for it all to just overflow but it hadn’t. For a few minutes, he’d stood by the door, his breathing choppy and wet, and then it had all just… washed away, leaving nothing in its place. He’d found himself staring blankly at the wall, thinking and feeling nothing at all, and that worried him.

Even when he’d sent a servant to tell Seokjin to go visit Jimin the next day, he hadn’t been able to muster up any strong feelings about the matter. It was… disconcerting. He knew it was, but that didn’t change how he was feeling.

Hyungki and his father had noticed, of course they had, but neither said anything. He could feel their eyes on him as he stood off to the left as he always did, watching the council debate some sort of rice allocation for a nearby village that had suffered from drought, but their worry remained unexpressed. If, perhaps, he’d purposefully arrived just before the start of the council meeting to avoid having to talk about it, no one had to know.

“The final issue of the day comes from the king,” Councilman Jung announced, his voice smooth and raised just a bit so it could be heard over others speaking. Just behind him, Hoseok blinked in surprise and met Yoongi’s eyes. Whatever he saw there made him tense and lean to whisper something to his father, who replied quickly. He didn’t like whatever he heard and it was clear on his face.

“The king?” Someone on the council repeated despite himself, his tone confused.

Byungho nodded, inclining his head towards Councilman Jung in thanks. “I received a letter from King Lee.”

A wave of murmurs and confused sounds rolled over the council but it was General Park that spoke. “Are they declaring war?”

“No, quite the opposite,” Byungho informed them, pulling the letter out of his sleeve. It was rolled again, looking much more official than it had the last time Yoongi saw it. “I read it this morning with the court historians, but I wanted to bring it to your attention before any decision was made.”

Yoongi wasn’t sure how his father had managed to orchestrate that lie but given the fact that the court historian seated in the corner nodded in agreement, Yoongi figured something had been done. He didn’t care much anyway. 

“What does the king want?” Another voice asked.

“King Lee,” Byungho said slowly, his words slow and measured like he was pained to say them aloud, “wishes to form an alliance with us based on the marriage of his only daughter to Prince Yoongi.”

For a moment, there was silence. All eyes moved to him, looking for what Yoongi didn’t know, and then there were two dozen voices speaking all at once. Yoongi heard snippets here and there but he didn’t focus on any one opinion. It was more mixed than he’d been expecting. Some thought it was a great idea, others thought the whole camp issue had been a manipulation tactic, while a few thought it was unusual that Yoongi was chosen at all.

“Silence,” Byungho interrupted, raising a hand. “The proposal can’t be discussed if everyone yells all at once.”

There was another pause and then General Park spoke, “Do you think this was their plan all along?”

Though it wasn’t usually his place to speak, Yoongi had to answer this question since he’d had the closest contact with them. “No. I think Crown Prince Dongha is trying to repay my sacrifice. He is unaware that I am healed now since it happened after he’d already departed.”

“You speak of him casually,” a softer voice pointed out. 

Yoongi glanced at him but he honestly couldn’t remember his name. “He asked me to do so.”

A ripple moved through the council. Speaking so casually about the future ruler of another country wasn’t common and Yoongi being asked to do so was even more rare. Everyone knew that and it spoke well of future relations with the country. If they could maintain that connection that is. 

Yoongi scanned the room, trying to read the faces of the councilmen to gauge their feelings on the matter. His eyes stopped on General Park who was staring at him hard, his eyes somewhat narrowed. Yoongi held his gaze for a moment then looked away only to hear General Park ask, “You think they chose you because you saved their crown prince then? Not for an ulterior motive?”

“I do,” Yoongi confirmed simply. It was the only thing that made sense.

“Then, what is the potential downside?” Councilman Jung said, filling the silence that followed Yoongi’s reply. Hoseok winced behind him, barely covering the expression. Yoongi couldn’t stop his own mind from screaming ‘beside the fact that I’m gay and want to be with someone else?’ in reply. He’d never say that aloud though. Not that Hoseok needed him to.

The king glanced at Yoongi then sighed. “As I’m sure the council is aware, the queen and I agreed to avoid arranged marriages for our sons. This conversation is not a new one, since we had it when we discussed Crown Prince Hyungki’s marriage, but the situation is different now so I wished to bring it to the council.”

Yoongi’s lips twitched at his father’s words. That was the most non-reply he’d ever heard his father make. Usually, he avoided such vague and un-substantive replies but it seemed now he had no choice. The only thing he’d made clear was that this arrangement wasn’t what he preferred. Other than that, he’d said nothing of value.

The council heard his underlying message and a few shifted in unease. They knew this marriage was a good idea, just as Yoongi and his father knew, but openly saying such when the king had expressed his displeasure at the idea wasn’t a good plan for anyone who wanted to stay on the king’s good side.

“Personal preferences aside,” General Park said, his hand moving to his belt and tapping idly—Yoongi couldn’t help but notice he was touching where his sword would be if he was permitted to carry one to council meetings, “a marriage alliance would remove the risk of war, which was Your Highness’ main priority. We aim to keep the people safe, do we not?”

Hyungki, who’d remained quiet the entire time, raised a brow. “You’ve changed your tune, General.”

“I am merely going along with what the Min family had decided,” the general returned, his lips smiling even as his eyes remained cold. “Prince Yoongi has often demonstrated his desire to sacrifice to keep the people safe. I would think an advantageous marriage when he’s already long past the appropriate age to be married would be a minor thing.”

This comment led to even more awkward shifting from the council. Yoongi’s lack of marriage was a long-standing sticking point for many of them. The council brought it up regularly but his father always cut off any attempts to arrange for Yoongi to be married, saying that, as the second son, it wasn’t necessary to push him into anything. The longer Hyungki had gone without producing an heir, the louder they had become, which was why Yoongi had resigned himself to the reality that he’d eventually be married off to someone, if for nothing else than to shut the council up.

But that had been before he’d met Seokjin, before he’d realized there was a way for him to be happy, to feel loved, to just… be. If this proposal had come before Seokjin, he’d have agreed so easily. Now the mere thought made the hollow feeling inside of him scream, like wind rushing through a tunnel.

“Prince Yoongi has already expressed that this marriage would be in the country’s best interest, General Park,” the king revealed, distaste heavy in his voice.

“Then we should agree and move on to peace, should we not?” The general asked, turning to he was no longer looking at the king but scanning the council members instead. Only about half looked pleased with the idea of a marriage alliance but that was more than enough. Especially when it seemed the leaders of both sides agreed.

Yoongi watched as Hoseok tugged on his father’s robe and whispered but his father didn’t respond to him. He only nodded at General Park. “If even Prince Yoongi agrees, it seems a waste to miss such an easy peacemaking opportunity.”

Hoseok’s eyes snapped to Yoongi, his expression apologetic and a bit worried. Yoongi couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how he’d looked when the council had decided that Hyungki’s daughter couldn’t inherit. It must be exhausting to try and sway things only for it to not work. Yoongi wasn’t sure he could do it but he was thankful Hoseok tried anyway.

There was a small sigh from beside him so Yoongi looked over, meeting the resigned eyes of his father, who nodded to him before turning his gaze to the council. “Then I will write our agreement and arrange for King Lee to come and solidify our alliance.”

The ‘and plan the wedding’ went unsaid but it wasn’t really necessary. His marriage to this unknown woman wasn’t the real point. It was only the bartering tool, the prize to sweeten the deal. The fact that Yoongi didn’t want it didn’t really matter, not when the real prize was peace.

♔♔♔

If anyone asked, Seokjin would say he wasn’t someone who pouted when he didn’t get his way. He’d be fairly adamant about it. The fact that Taehyung would vehemently disagree with that answer didn’t sway Seokjin’s opinion on the matter. Nor did the fact that, when a servant came instead of Yoongi, his bottom lip poked out and remained there the entire walk to Jimin’s workshop.

“Court Witch Seokjin,” Jimin greeted, his voice and expression even with little inflection. 

Seokjin bowed politely. “Park Jimin.”

Quite honestly, when the servant had told him he was to go see Jimin as soon as possible, his initial response had been to decline. Jimin had been nothing but nice to him but it was entirely superficial and something about the way Jimin watched him was terrifying. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Yoongi all those weeks ago that Jimin scared him and he felt the same now.

Or would have if Jimin had been looking at him the same way, but he wasn’t. Today, his expression was impassive, so much so that Seokjin wanted to call it blank. There were no emotions or even thoughts on his face. He was just staring at Seokjin as if he was someone below his notice. That should have been insulting but all it made Seokjin feel was confusion.

“I was told to come see you?” Seokjin prompted, unsure why Jimin was still just looking at him.

Jimin blinked once, the action slow and deliberate, then nodded and reached below his bench. He pulled out a large parchment that had darkened slightly with age and unrolled it before spinning it toward Seokjin, who moved closer without a word. When he saw that it was a map of the palace, he raised a brow at Jimin, who explained, “These are the current land allotments for gardens and nature within the palace grounds.”

Seokjin furrowed his brow. “Okay?”

“Only a few are empty but I understand there are some requirements for a suitable space for you must have?”

“I— well, yes, but I don’t understand?” Seokjin admitted, his eyes flicking between the map and Jimin. “You don’t even like me.”

For some reason, that made Jimin’s lips twitch. “That’s not true. I don’t trust you, there’s a difference.”

“Barely,” Seokjin muttered.

“However,” Jimin continued, looking at him pointedly, “you make Prince Yoongi happy and he asked for a favour, so I’ll do it. Today, I’m showing you garden spaces and you’ll pick one.”

“Yoongi asked?” Seokjin repeated, his expression and voice softening as he finally realized what was happening. Yoongi had seen how much he liked having a garden so he was giving him one here too.

Jimin stared at him for a second then nodded. “Yes. He said you’d have to physically go to the areas available to make sure they were suitable so he couldn’t just pick one for you.”

Seokjin nodded. “I can make anywhere work but some places are better than others if I want to use the plants for stronger magic.”

“Then let’s go,” Jimin said simply, rounding his workstation and leaving Seokjin behind. Seokjin scrambled after him immediately and fell into step beside him. When he had, Jimin spoke again, “The first place is near the west side of the palace. It’s untouched as of now, so you’ll have your work cut out for you, but it’s also the largest.”

“I don’t need space really,” Seokjin revealed. “I’m only thinking of planting things I’ll need. My friend Taehyung has all the bigger, more laborious things growing at his cottage already and he’s always more than willing to share.”

“Why not grow them here too?” Jimin wondered, still not looking at him as he led him to the area in question.

Seokjin hummed. “I could but most of them require lots of time and attention which I don’t have and some even require a steady influx of magic, which Taehyung’s cottage is set up to do. Since I helped him build it, anything he grows reacts well to my magic.”

“This is it,” Jimin said after a moment, sweeping out his hand.

The area, as Jimin had said, was quite large. There were a few young trees scattered around but for the most part, it was filled with longer grass and wildflowers. It was pretty in a natural, unrestrained way, so he could understand why Jimin hadn’t touched it. If it was up to Seokjin, he’d have just waited for the trees to grow and put a bench under them for reading or relaxing. “It’s a nice spot.”

“Yes,” Jimin agreed, walking through the grass with his hands clasped behind his back. His robes, pale purple today, swished and caught on the grass and flowers, but he didn’t pay attention to it. He just swept his gaze over the area and tilted his head. “No one planted the trees so my predecessor was quite surprised when they appeared. I’m waiting for them to grow to see what their natural shape will be. The two in the middle there seem to be leaning towards each other and it could make a lovely shaded sitting area one day.”

Seokjin was more than a little surprised to hear that he and Jimin had pictured similar uses for the area but he didn’t say that. “If you want, I can use a spell to suggest they do that. I’m quite good at manipulating the natural world in a harmless way. That’s how we built Taehyung’s cottage.”

Jimin turned to him, curiosity clear on his face. “How?”

“How would I move the trees or how did I build Taehyung’s cottage?” Seokjin asked.

“Both.”

Smiling slightly, Seokjin moved further into the area so he could place a hand on one of the trees. He considered for a moment—this really would be better with a circle—then decided it was okay because he was only going to demonstrate a bit. He closed his eyes and focused on the tree, allowing his magic to seep into the bark and wind its way through the lifelines of the tree. When he felt it reach the lowest and thankfully smallest branch, he asked it to shift to the right and intertwine with the offshoot branch next to it, which it did. He heard Jimin gasp softly and dropped his hand. When he stepped back, he opened his eyes and looked at Jimin. “It’s not foolproof, the natural world can be… feisty, but as long as it’s simple, most plant life will agree.”

“So the cottage?” Jimin asked, still staring at the two branches that were now wound around each other.

“Taehyung’s cottage is more of a… frame?” Seokjin explained, hesitating in his description. “We built the frame of his home, the rooms and floors, added the furnace and all the necessities, and then we cast spells to have the local plant life grow around the frame we’d placed. His cottage is more of a hill really. Most normal people would miss it.”

Jimin frowned as he gave into temptation and touched the branches to make sure they were okay. They were. “How do they not die?”

“In this case, the branches will just grow as they’ve been placed. Like when you splice a plant or tree,” Seokjin explained, seeing understanding on Jimin’s face as he nodded. “In the case of Taehyung’s cottage, it’s sustained entirely by a well of his magic. He’s not a nature witch per se but that’s definitely his strongest skill.”

“It must be beautiful,” Jimin whispered, forgetting himself for a moment as he pictured it. He loved flowers the most but every part of the natural world was a close second. He couldn’t imagine being surrounded by it all day every day in such a way.

Seokjin tilted his head as he watched Jimin. For the first time, he let his initial fear of the man fade away and saw him for the person he really was. The man who’d given up almost everything so that he could work with flowers every day. The man who dealt with criticism and ridicule for choosing to do something others saw as demeaning and silly. It took an incredibly strong person to do that and Seokjin found himself feeling a bit guilty for not acknowledging it sooner. “I think, if you wanted, Taehyung wouldn’t mind you coming to see his cottage. Very few people love plants the way he does and I think you’d be one of them.”

Jimin’s eyes snapped to him in surprise. He saw suspicion there but also subdued excitement “We’ll see. I suppose this place won’t work?”

“No,” Seokjin confirmed. “It is lovely but there are no lines of energy here.”

“Lines of energy,” Jimin repeated even as he turned on his heel so they were walking back the way they came. “Hyung thought it had something to do with the plant’s aura.”

Seokjin raised a brow at Jimin finally using hyung rather than the overly formal ‘Prince Yoongi’ he’d been using originally, but didn’t comment. He preferred it anyway. “He’s not entirely wrong, but it’s not that simple. The simplest explanation would be to compare it to the human body. There are energy lines that connect the entire natural world together, like veins in a human. Some places have more, others none at all. Where there are more, you can feel it. The garden we had at the border town was like that.”

Jimin hummed in feigned understanding. He got the gist of it but he figured there were just some things he’d never really understand. He may surround himself with flowers on a daily basis but he couldn’t feel them. He wondered what that would be like. Maybe he’d be able to tell at a place like that cottage Seokjin was talking about? Regardless, it didn’t matter now. “The second place is near the back of the palace. We only just started clearing the land so it’s rough and small, but the soil is very good. I’d originally suggested agriculture for the area actually.”

“The palace grows its own food?” Seokjin asked in curiosity.

“Not really, no. Some of the kitchen staff prefer to grow some things to keep them on hand, but for the most part, we buy from the city and surrounding villages. It keeps money flowing into the community and the people happy.”

“So why suggest agriculture?” Seokjin wondered.

Sending him a somewhat sheepish expression, Jimin cleared his throat. “Well, actually, I suggested something more like an orchard.”

“For apples?” Seokjin guessed. They were fairly common in the area and grew well in the soil.

“Tangerines.”

Seokjin stopped walking, his whole face contracting in confusion. Tangerines didn’t grow nearby. The closest place he was aware of was an island off the coast where they grew quite well. He couldn’t imagine why Jimin would suggest growing them here of all places. “What? Why?”

Jimin shot him a look, then, having stopped when Seokjin had, started walking again, forcing Seokjin to jog to catch up. When he did, Jimin pursed his lips. “Hyung loves them. Every so often we’ll get some from a merchant who stops in the city and he’ll eat them until his fingers turn orange.”

“Hyung as in Yoongi?” Seokjin clarified.

“Yes. When we were younger, we’d joke that he’d turn into a tangerine one day and just roll away if he kept eating them,” Jimin reminisced, his voice soft and a little wistful.

The image of Yoongi eating tangerines made Seokjin smile. He’d seen Yoongi eat things he liked, seen the way he smiled slightly and hummed around the food as he chewed. Seokjin would give anything to see Yoongi eat something that made him as happy as Jimin described. “Then show me a different spot. Plant the trees there as you wanted.”

Pausing, Jimin frowned at Seokjin, his eyes narrowing. Like when he’d first met him, Seokjin felt like he was being taken apart and assessed. Only this time, he wasn’t found lacking. This time, Jimin nodded and switched directions. “The next place is actually on the east side. It’s currently a flower garden I designed as my first official project when I started this job. The only person who goes there at all is hyung and I think it’s because he doesn’t want me to feel bad. It’s very small though so I’m not sure it will work.”

Seokjin followed behind Jimin without a word. Though he wished he could have seen Yoongi that morning, he was happy he’d gotten the chance to talk to Jimin more. He was beginning to understand Yoongi’s fondness for him and his implicit trust despite who his father was. The fact that Jimin shared blood with General Park seemed impossible but, then again, every time Seokjin saw the calculating look in Jimin’s eye, he decided maybe it wasn’t so impossible. 

He was going to use the extended silence to ask about General Park, see what had been going on in his absence, but the second they rounded a corner and stepped onto the path that led to the small garden Jimin had made, Seokjin’s steps halted. “This place.”

Jimin blinked in surprise. “We’re not even there yet.”

“Doesn’t matter. I can already feel it,” Seokjin explained, moving past Jimin to follow the path of magic he could feel.

Sure enough, it led him to the very spot Jimin had been intending to show him. It was a nice spot but simple. There were flowers and bushes scattered around, and a small stone seat tucked in the corner that was almost hidden away. Seokjin scanned the area, seeing walkways on either side and little else. It was hidden between buildings and by all rights shouldn’t exist where it did, which just told Seokjin that Jimin had likely been assigned this area because it didn’t matter. No one would really see it unless they went to it on purpose so if it was ugly, it could be overlooked.

That didn’t change the fact that several flowing lines of energy converged and crossed underneath the small stone seat. It wasn’t as strong as the garden in the border town but it was close. He wasn’t sure how he’d missed it before. “How close are we to where I live?”

“Maybe five minutes?” Jimin guessed, then he pointed. “That roof there is hyung’s rooms.”

Seokjin stared at the roof, then looked around the area again. “You said Yoongi comes here a lot?”

“He does,” Jimin confirmed, frowning slightly. “He must have added the seat. I didn’t put it there.”

“That?” Seokjin asked, pointing to the stone he’d noticed was directly on top of the magic lines. When Jimin nodded, Seokjin nearly laughed. Of course Yoongi would seek out a place like this. He likely wasn’t even aware he was doing it. He probably just felt comfortable like he did at the border town garden and didn’t know why.

“Why?” Jimin asked after a moment.

Seokjin wasn’t sure if Jimin was aware of Yoongi’s magic so he didn’t mention it. “There’s a lot of magic here. I was wondering if he’d be upset if I took his place for my garden because this is definitely where it’s going.”

“I doubt he’ll have time to care anymore,” Jimin murmured quietly. He didn’t look at Seokjin as he moved to the stone seat and sat down, his hands folding on one knee and pulling it closer as he took in the area. “I remember when I was designing this place, he was always hovering, worrying I was going to mess it up and prove my father right.”

“I doubt that’s why he was worried,” Seokjin told him softly.

“No, I know that now. At the time, it just felt like he didn’t believe in me. I hadn’t quite figured out yet that he shows his affection with proximity,” Jimin explained, smiling wryly. “Now I know that, when he can’t say something, he just stands closer until the person gets it.”

Seokjin snorted. “He does do that.”

“Did he do it to you too?” Jimin wondered, the wry smile turning soft in a way that threw Seokjin off. It made Jimin look soft, innocent almost. If Seokjin wasn’t aware of the viper he was underneath, he might have been fooled.

“He did,” Seokjin confirmed. “When we were… figuring things out, he’d just shift closer and closer and then jump back when he realized what he was doing. It was confusing for a while.”

Jimin laughed genuinely, picturing Yoongi’s hasty retreat when he thought he’d been caught doing something wrong. He’d have to be so much more careful now. Before, standing too close to Seokjin would have been fine, most people knew or suspected about Yoongi anyway, even if he didn’t know that, but now that could be an issue. “You’ll have to be careful about that now.”

“I know. The palace always has people around,” Seokjin mused.

“Exactly. Wouldn’t want the princess finding out,” Jimin sighed out, his attention drifting to the sky, which had started to darken. The council meeting was likely done by now, which meant it was official. Jimin scrunched his eyebrows, a wave of sadness hitting him as he thought about Yoongi and how much he was losing at this very moment. He hated that he couldn’t help, that all he could do was give advice about how not to get caught. As if he didn’t know Yoongi would break things off with Seokjin the second his wife-to-be appeared. If only Yoongi was a slightly worse person, then maybe he could be happy. “That could be a disaster.”

Seokjin frowned at him. “Why? Princess Taeso seems to love Yoongi quite a bit and she likes me well enough. I don’t see her having an issue.”

“Taeso?” Jimin repeated, staring at Seokjin blankly. “Who’s talking about Princess Taeso?”

“You are? You said ‘the princess’ and there’s only one. Unless Yoongi has a sister I’m unaware of?” Seokjin said slowly.

Jimin’s confusion only deepened. “I meant Princess Lee? I don’t know her first name.”

“The Crown Prince’s sister?” Seokjin guessed based on the family name and title. “Why would she— oh.”

“Oh?” Jimin repeated, his confusion melting away as he stared at Seokjin. “Oh. Fuck. You didn’t know.”

“He’s… getting married, isn’t he?” Seokjin guessed, his eyes dropping to the ground at his feet. It was the only answer that made sense. Why else would Jimin randomly bring up the princess of a foreign country?

“Yes.”

“Ah,” Seokjin managed, feeling like his heart was beating a mile a minute but also somehow not beating at all. He supposed he knew why Yoongi hadn’t come to see him the night before or that morning, why he’d suddenly demanded that Jimin give him a garden. 

Yoongi was getting married. 

Seokjin wanted to laugh. He hadn’t seen that coming. Yoongi hadn’t been married in the vision he’d had before so Seokjin had just assumed—had just hoped—that he wouldn’t get married in this one. He should have checked. He should have done those goddamn predictions so he’d have known this was coming and prepared. He’d been too scared to see what was coming and now look at what that got him. 

Yoongi was getting fucking married.

They’d been together, what, three days? Fate couldn’t even give them a full week before it tore away what little happiness they’d managed to steal for themselves? 

He supposed this was what his father had wanted to talk about and of course Yoongi had agreed. That’s what Yoongi did. The man had no semblance of self-preservation or selfishness. If it helped other people, his brother, his sister-in-law, his country, who cared what happened to him? That’s how he ended up with an arrow through his shoulder and that’s how he ended up engaged to some random princess that he’d never met.

Yoongi was getting married. 

“—do?”

“What?” Seokjin asked, pulling his thoughts inward as he heard the tail end of Jimin’s question.

“I asked, what are you going to do?” Jimin repeated, his eyes fixed on Seokjin’s face. “Will you leave?”

Everything inside Seokjin was screaming at him to do just that. It would be easier, safer, to leave, to run away, but he wouldn’t. He’d promised Yoongi he’d stay no matter what, that they’d be together, romantically or platonically, in the future. As much as that thought hurt, he was also self-aware enough to know that he wouldn’t be able to stay away. This place was his home, Yoongi included. “Of course not. This is my home.”

That seemed to surprise Jimin and it showed on his face. “I’m… glad to hear that.”

“Is that why you agreed to help me?” Seokjin wondered, clearing his throat. He felt like his magic was banging around in his body, trying to tear itself apart. He’d always heard that unstable emotions could negatively affect magic but he’d never actually experienced it before. Turns out that was true. Good to know, he supposed.

“Yes,” Jimin admitted, his eyes still fixed on Seokjin’s face. “He was upset and I wanted to help him. I can’t do anything about the marriage but I can give you his gift.”

“It’s a wonderful gift,” Seokjin murmured quietly, looking around the garden. “He knows me well.”

Jimin didn’t know what to say to that. He’d just assumed Yoongi had told Seokjin about the marriage, he’d said that they’d talked about it, so he felt bad that he’d just blurted it out. At the same time, he was glad that he’d been able to see Seokjin’s initial reaction firsthand. He’d been so surprised that he hadn’t had the chance to cover up his reaction or play it off as Jimin had seen him do previously. That did, however, make the blatant despair he’d seen on Seokjin’s face hit harder. 

Like Yoongi, the news of the marriage was devastating to Seokjin. That much was obvious. If Seokjin hadn’t reacted that way at least Jimin could have comforted himself with the knowledge that Yoongi was being saved from being in a relationship with someone who didn’t truly care for him but it was clear that wasn’t the case. If anything, it looked like Seokjin was the one that cared more. Or Yoongi had more years covering up sorrow. Jimin wasn’t sure. Either way, he was now faced with two people who loved each other but couldn’t be together and would be destroyed by that reality.

Fuck the Min family, Jimin thought harshly. Fuck every person, every councilman, every fucking servant, who thought their own peace and safety was worth this. Fuck every single one of them.

♔♔♔

Trying to avoid his family after the council meeting was all but impossible. He tried anyway, scurrying toward the door the second the last councilman disappeared through it, but his father’s booming voice stopped him in his tracks. “Yoongi. Stop.”

“Yes, father?” Yoongi answered, his shoulders rising to his ears even as he turned back. His father and brother were staring at him, concern naked on their faces, and he couldn’t take it. Not right now. “Did you need something?”

Byungho stepped down from the throne and walked toward Yoongi. The sound of his heavy, formal robes moving with every step was almost oppressive in its volume. No one was saying anything, no one was making a single sound, and Yoongi wanted to just run away, but he couldn’t do that so he stood still even as his father laid a hand on his shoulder. He hesitated as he did it, his thumb sweeping out to rub in a comforting manner. It was his formerly injured shoulder and, even if he couldn’t feel the injury now, a stab of pain hit him hard. He knew it was mental, knew it was from the memory of Seokjin holding him close as he was healed, but he pushed that memory down. He couldn’t deal with that now either.

“Yoongi,” Byungho said softly. “What are you thinking right now?”

“That I’d like to return to my rooms,” Yoongi replied, hoping that would be enough. The longer he was outside of his room, the more hollow he felt. It was like something was digging out everything inside him and leaving nothing behind but a shell.

Hyungki appeared at their father’s side, his eyes sad and wide. “Talk to us, Yoongi.”

Yoongi felt his lips kick up in the corner. It wasn’t a smile, not really. It was more a bitter twist of his lips and it was followed by equally bitter words. “Why? What could you possibly do? Are you going to marry the princess, hyung? Are you going to deny King Lee, father?”

“Yoongi,” his father murmured, a stricken expression on his face. “If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”

“If we weren’t going to do this, you would have said no without asking me,” Yoongi pointed out. His father had done it before, that’s why the council had brought it up, that’s how Yoongi had known this time was different, that’s why he was losing everything, losing Seokjin. Yoongi felt his breath hitch, that stab of pain amplifying, and mercilessly pushed it down. “Is that all?”

“Yoong—” Hyungki tried but their father placed his other hand on Hyungki’s chest, silencing him.

Yoongi wanted to leave then but his father’s firm hand on his shoulder held him in place. He couldn’t help but look at his father’s face and wait, knowing he was going to say something more.

After a moment, Byungho took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I have always been proud of my sons. Both of you. Even if there are things you don’t tell me for whatever reason, that has never made me less proud of you. All I’ve ever wanted was for you both to be safe and happy. I am so incredibly sorry that I can’t offer you both those things, Yoongi. I’m sorry that your happiness is buying our safety.”

“It’s a small price to pay,” Yoongi said honestly. As much as he hated it, as much as he wanted to scream and cry, that was true. One man’s happiness was nothing in comparison to a country.

“It’s not,” Byungho denied immediately, his hand squeezing almost painfully. “It’s enormous. It’s more than any of us could ever do, Yoongi.”

Yoongi didn’t know what to say to that so he just looked away. He caught his brother’s eyes as he did so and shrank back. He’d always hated being looked at with pity and there was so much of it in both their eyes that he felt overwhelmed. He knew his father was trying to make a point, trying to acknowledge the enormity of what he’d inadvertently asked Yoongi to do, but Yoongi hated every moment of it. “Can I please go?”

“Yes, Yoongi,” Byungho relented, dropping his hand so Yoongi could leave the room. The second the doors closed, his shoulders drooped. He could feel his eldest son looking at him and turned to him. “What?”

“You know, don’t you?” Hyungki asked softly, his voice so similar to the tone Byungho had used on Yoongi earlier. Yoongi may have missed the way their father insinuated he was hiding something from him but Hyungki didn’t.

“Know what?” Byungho hedged, looking away.

Hyungki smiled a bit, seeing Yoongi in that gesture. He was his father’s son. “About Yoongi’s preferences.”

Byungho glanced at him quickly then looked away again. “When I was your age, I’d already spent nearly a decade in military camps. Do you think someone like Yoongi is a rarity?”

“Not at all,” Hyungki denied, shaking his head as he waited for his father to explain.

“I’ve known since Yoongi was five years old,” Byungho admitted, smiling slightly as he remembered. “We were watching the promotions ceremony General Park was running and there was this young soldier. He runs the outpost now. I believe he’s a captain. Yoongi was sitting on my lap, too fidgety to stay in his own seat, and he looked at him and then me and declared, quite loudly, he was going to marry him one day because he was pretty and strong.”

Hyungki laughed, remembering Yoongi at that age. He’d been a terror so he could imagine how loudly he would have spoken. He was sure he’d been there but he didn’t remember it. “Of course he did.”

Byungho hummed slightly, still smiling. “The councilmen with me at the time tried to explain how marriage worked to him but he just nodded at them then repeated himself. He was like that for a few years until— until he started to think it was wrong. I thought he’d tell me eventually but he— well, he never did.”

“I’m assuming that’s why he never got married?” Hyungki asked.

“Yes,” Byungho admitted. “It was easy enough to turn down the few proposals he did get. Most people were afraid of his hair so there weren’t that many anyway.”

“We could have refused this one, father,” Hyungki pointed out, his voice hushed and reproachful. “We didn’t need to make him do this. He has someone now.”

“The witch, yes. I assumed as much,” Byungho agreed. “But it’s not that easy, Hyungki. It was easy to refuse before because what did it matter? Who cared if an aristocrat or merchant was upset? If a councilman felt slighted? Those people don’t have armies, Hyungki. Those people aren’t already lining up at our border, showing their willingness to fight. We’re on the brink of war. One grain of sand, one harsh word, and thousands are fighting and dying. On both sides. I’ll spend the rest of my life wishing Yoongi didn’t have to sacrifice for us, for this country, but the fact remains he does need to do it. He knows that too.”

Hyungki pursed his lips and looked away. “I disagree.”

“So does your mother,” Byungho said wryly. “But part of being king is making choices that some people don’t agree with. You’ll have to make them one day too. I hope then that you have a son who’s more forgiving.”

Before Hyungki could reply, Byungho left the room, effectively ending the conversation. Hyungki watched him go, displeasure settling in his gut. He understood his father’s reasoning but that didn’t change the fact he’d spent the last few hours staring at the dead look behind his baby brother’s eyes. Just two days ago, that look had been bright and hopeful and more than a little in love. Now it was empty. Hyungki didn’t know if he could look at that expression for the rest of his life.

He didn’t know if Yoongi could live like that.

All he’d ever wanted was to see his little brother happy. The thought that he’d sat with his mother a few weeks prior and thought about setting him up with a man, that he’d thought, maybe, when he was king, that he could have done something for Yoongi and Seokjin—or whoever he ended up with—so that they could live normally. He’d, so recently, imagined a future with such a happy tint that the mere idea made him sick now. It felt naïve, in hindsight, and, the worst part is, Yoongi had known that.

While Hyungki fought and complained, Yoongi accepted and moved forward. Yoongi had had years to resign himself to a reality in which he didn’t get his happy ending. Hyungki had never had that problem. He suddenly understood Yoongi’s offhand comment about him being lucky for a few days prior and laughed, the sound more pained than anything. He was lucky. So fucking lucky. Firstborn, crown prince, normal hair, smart and strong, married to the love of his life with a healthy baby on the way. He was all the things Yoongi wasn’t, had all the things Yoongi didn’t, and he’d just taken that for granted and, worst of all, he couldn’t help. He couldn’t do anything but watch his brother trade happiness for their safety.

All he could do was promise that, when he was king, he’d never make such a mistake again. It wouldn’t help Yoongi, but maybe he could do some good. Maybe one day he could make up for everything he’d overlooked.

Chapter Text

Yoongi all but ran to his rooms, fleeing the looks of his father and brother and even the pounding of his heart. He was desperately clinging to that previously concerning hollowness. It had been worrying but at least it had been easy to deal with. Now, it was like something was rattling dangerously, desperate to get free, and he knew, if he let it, it’d tear him apart.

He barely lifted his head as he made his way back to the safety of his rooms. He didn’t see the somewhat concerned looks of the staff, nor the pitying looks of those who’d heard what had happened. He didn’t see anything. He just kept going until he was inside, the door closed safely behind him.

The second the semi-darkness of his room engulfed him, he relaxed. That edgy, panicked feeling was fading now that he had privacy. He still felt like he was being torn in two, that hollow feeling competing with the new, frantic pulsing of something around the edges. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to pull himself together and calm the racing of his heart. He couldn’t keep going on like this. He’d have to meet with people about the wedding, meet the princess and actually talk to her. He couldn’t keep breaking every time he even thought about it.

“Do you actually have something hidden behind your back this time?”

Yoongi’s eyes snapped open in surprise. Seokjin watched him from just outside his bedroom doorway, his arms crossed and lips smiling. Yoongi’s eyelashes fluttered, his breathing speeding up as he stared at Seokjin. He knew he should respond, tell him what had happened, how everything was going to change, but his mouth wouldn’t move. All he could do was stare.

“No?” Seokjin said, his lips pursing as he looked away. 

It was then that Yoongi realized something was wrong. Seokjin had joked like he usually did but he didn’t come closer, didn’t touch him like he usually would. He was closed off, his whole posture and expression shuttered from him. Yoongi felt his stomach bottom out as the panicked feeling returned. Seokjin knew. “I’m so sorry, hyung.”

“Oh, Yoongi,” Seokjin breathed, his voice pained. “Please don’t apologize.”

“I should— I should have said something,” Yoongi managed even as he let his body slide down the door until he was sitting on the ground, practically curled up into himself.

Seokjin blinked in surprise and then dove for him, closing the distance of an entire room in seconds. Yoongi barely noticed. One second Seokjin was so far away, so removed, and the next he was kneeling in front of him, his hands cradling his face and touching him so gently. “It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Yoongi denied. “I’m getting married, hyung. Married.”

“I know,” Seokjin soothed, his thumbs rubbing back and forth over Yoongi’s cheekbones. He watched in slow motion as Yoongi’s eyes welled up and tears spilled out. Seokjin realized, in slow motion, that he’d never seen Yoongi cry before. Even when he was shot with an arrow, he’d never actually cried. His eyes had gotten misty, had even welled up, but he’d never cried.

Now, Yoongi cried. His whole body moved with it, shaking and curling forward. Seokjin didn’t know what to do, it wasn’t like he could fix it, so he did what he could and wrapped himself around Yoongi, holding him tight until the tears ran out.

“I don’t want to get married, hyung,” Yoongi whispered finally, his voice hoarse. “I know we talked about it before, that I said it could happen, but I don’t want to.”

Seokjin shifted his hands, cupping the back of Yoongi’s neck and tilting his head back so he could see Yoongi’s face. His eyes were red and swollen, his nose pink, and his lips dented. He rubbed his thumb over the edge of Yoongi’s jaw and sighed, a small smile on his lips. “I know you don’t, baby, but you have to, right?”

Yoongi nodded, his eyes welling again. It made his eyes look bigger than they were and Seokjin couldn’t look away from them. “Yes.”

“I’m so glad I got to know you, Yoongi. To be with you. I don’t regret it, not even for a second,” Seokjin told him honestly.

“I—” Yoongi started, his lips trembling. “I love you, hyung.”

There, he’d finally said it. Finally let it out for real. No more hiding behind maybes or what-ifs. That was how he felt and if he was going to lose it, he was at the very least going to be honest in their last moments. He didn’t expect to hear it back. Seokjin was a hundred years old, a long-lived witch. It was unlikely he felt the same after such a short period, but that was okay. Yoongi was happy that he’d managed to work up the courage to say it, even if only once. As long as Seokjin knew, that’s all he—

“I love you too.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I said, I love you too,” Seokjin repeated, his eyes on Yoongi’s face. “Every part of you draws me in, Min Yoongi. What else could I do but fall?”

“Hyung.”

Gathering Yoongi up, Seokjin buried his face in Yoongi’s hair. Saying that out loud, hearing those words pass his lips, had hurt more than he’d expected. Those words had been lingering in the back of his mind for days, for weeks even. He heard them every time he couldn’t look away from Yoongi, every time he heard Yoongi stop himself from saying the same, every time felt Yoongi touch him or lean closer. He’d thought he’d say them eventually but never like this. Not on the cold floor of Yoongi’s rooms while they both cried. Not when Yoongi’s looming marriage tore them apart. Just… not like this. 

But, even as much as he hated how he said it, how Yoongi said it, he didn’t regret it. If he couldn’t have Yoongi, at least he could have this. He’d get to know, forever, that Yoongi had loved him and that he had loved Yoongi. It was enough. It had to be.

“Hyung,” Yoongi said again. 

This time his voice was desperate rather than sad. Seokjin pulled back, looking at his face, and darted down, his lips crashing into Yoongi’s as if they’d both moved at the exact same time. Yoongi made a small sound in the back of his throat and pushed forward, sending Seokjin back onto the floor. Yoongi followed him down, crawling on top of him, never once letting his lips part from Seokjin’s. 

His magic was fluctuating again, frantically bouncing around his body as it tried to figure out exactly what Seokjin was feeling at that moment. Seokjin himself didn’t know so he ignored it and grabbed onto Yoongi’s head, his fingers digging in like Yoongi would disappear from his grasp. “Yoongi. Bed. Take me to bed.”

Yoongi finally moved away, practically tearing himself from Seokjin’s lips. His breath was halted and laboured, his eyes wide and glassy. “Okay.”

Wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s waist, he pulled them both up to their feet. Yoongi tilted his head to look up at him then smiled, the expression wobbly around the edges. “You’re so beautiful, hyung. Always so perfect.”

Seokjin felt himself blush. Yoongi’s sincerity had a way of sneaking up on him at the most unexpected moments. He cupped Yoongi’s cheek, watching as he leaned into his open palm. He remembered, just a few days ago, how Yoongi had done much the same thing. It had hurt him then too but for a completely different reason. He hadn’t known if Yoongi really wanted him then. Now he knew he did, knew he loved him, and it hurt all the same. “I love you so much.”

“Fuck,” Yoongi cursed, tears clogging his throat. “Kiss me.”

“Always,” Seokjin promised despite himself, sealing their lips together again as he started walking backward. He was slightly hunched and walking blindly but he didn’t care. Not when Yoongi’s lips kept moving against his, not when his tongue tangled with his, not when he felt Yoongi’s hands tugging at his robes, undoing ties and sliding layers off the best he could as they walked. Seokjin returned the favour, undoing Yoongi’s more ornate robes and tossing what he could aside. 

By the time they made it to the bedroom and Seokjin’s knees hit the bed, they were down to one layer each. Seokjin sat down heavily on the bed, his eyes never leaving Yoongi even as his lips were forced to. Yoongi met his gaze and slowly removed the final layers and then his earrings, dropping them carelessly to the floor. His hair was still up in the bun but he didn’t touch it. Instead, he moved and stood between Seokjin’s legs and slid his hands over Seokjin’s still covered shoulders. “Can you untie my hair?”

“Of course,” Seokjin agreed, his arms lifting to do as asked. Yoongi watched him almost hawkishly, his eyes unblinking as Seokjin loosened the bun and dropped his arms, the ribbon he’d chosen to hold it in place that day still hanging between his fingers. “There. Much better.”

Yoongi shook his head a bit, letting his hair fall more naturally down his back, then switched his attention to Seokjin. Slowly, he grabbed the ribbon, smoothing it between his fingers. He stared at it for a moment then wrapped it around Seokjin’s wrist and tied it in a knot. He didn’t speak, didn’t explain, but Seokjin didn’t need him to. 

Instead, he just reached up again and guided Yoongi’s face down to his, shifting backward when Yoongi climbed into his lap and straddled him. This wasn’t an unfamiliar position for them, Yoongi often liked to be on top, but something felt different tonight, softer. There was a sadness clinging to the edges of every touch, every kiss, that made the silence stretch.

Seokjin threaded his hands through Yoongi’s hair and let his hands trail downwards until they left his hair and glided along bare skin and settled on his hips. Yoongi wasn’t rocking against him like he usually would, wasn’t eagerly seeking friction. He was hard, pressing against Seokjin, but that was all. Neither of them was really doing anything about that hardness and Seokjin knew, for him, it was from a desire to stretch this out, to make it last. Seokjin wasn’t sure when the princess was coming, when the wedding would be, but this felt… final. Like a goodbye. Seokjin didn’t want it to end. He did, however, want to feel Yoongi even more.

“Yoongi, baby, can you get into bed? I want to strip,” Seokjin asked quietly.

“Okay,” Yoongi agreed, slipping off his lap and walking around to the side of the bed so he could get in more comfortably. 

Seokjin watched him then stood up and shed his remaining robe and pants with quick, practiced movements. The second he was bare, he met Yoongi’s eyes, smiling at the image of him settled in the middle of the bed surrounded by several pillows. Yoongi lifted a hand and tilted his palm up, waiting. Seokjin took it with the ribbon-bound hand and crawled into the bed with him, settling with one leg between his thighs and another beside his hip. “Comfy?”

“Yes,” Yoongi confirmed, settling back into the pillows so he could look up at Seokjin. “I’m always comfortable with you.”

“I’m so glad,” Seokjin murmured, his fingertips tracing over Yoongi’s cheek, his lips, his chin, then down his neck. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

“I’m happy with you,” Yoongi replied. The seriousness of that statement, the unspoken ‘and no one else’ should have been a mood killer. In a normal scenario, it would be, but this wasn’t normal. They knew they were saying goodbye, knew where this was going, so something as honest as that couldn’t ruin anything. Nothing was as bad as their reality at that moment.

“I love you,” Seokjin said again. It was almost funny how he hadn’t wanted to say it and now he couldn’t stop. It was like word vomit.

Yoongi scrunched his face, his legs moving restlessly around Seokjin’s as he took a hiccuped breath. On anyone else, he’d think it was impatience but on Yoongi he knew it wasn’t. “Hyung… I love you so much.”

“I know,” Seokjin whispered, peppering kissing all over Yoongi’s face and then trailing his lips down his neck and chest. Yoongi arched up under him, his hands moving to Seokjin’s hair and grabbing on. Yoongi didn’t touch Seokjin’s hair nearly as much as Seokjin touched his, so the slight pull against his scalp surprised him, but that didn’t stop him from continuing down Yoongi’s chest, his nose rubbing against Yoongi’s hip. 

When he looked up, he found Yoongi watching him, his expression open and raw. It didn’t look needy or demanding. It was just the worst combination of happy and sad. Seokjin kissed Yoongi’s hip bone and then shifted, laying himself down between Yoongi’s legs. Yoongi’s hands left his hair and settled on his shoulders, his fingers pressing in and massaging. 

Seokjin stayed there for a minute, just watching Yoongi watch him. He was within centimeters of his dick, could feel it pressing against his chest, but neither of them moved to do anything about it. Yoongi just lifted a hand, tracing a path from Seokjin’s cheek to chin as Seokjin had done to him a few minutes before, his lips tugging up at the corner even as his eyes misted over.

“Not now. Not here,” Seokjin whispered, his hands squeezing where they’d settled on Yoongi’s thighs. He didn’t want to remember Yoongi crying at a moment like this even if they both felt like it.

Yoongi licked his lips and nodded, clearing his throat. “Not here.”

Leaning down, Seokjin placed a gentle kiss just below Yoongi’s belly button then shifted even further down, nudging Yoongi’s cock with his nose before sealing his lips around the head and sucking delicately. Yoongi bucked up, seeking more for the first time that night. Seokjin allowed him to move, not wanting to deny him anything, and did his best to relax his throat so he could bob his head in time with Yoongi’s small, aborted thrusts. 

After a few rolls of his hips, Yoongi’s hands returned to his hair, winding their way through the strands and tugging slightly. Seokjin glanced up, meeting the hazy eyes of Yoongi, who bit his lip. “Come up here.”

Seokjin moved without hesitation, crawling up Yoongi’s body. “Hi.”

“Hi, hyung,” Yoongi murmured, his eyes flicking around Seokjin’s face like he was trying to memorize him. Perhaps he was. 

Without really thinking about it, Seokjin scooped Yoongi up, wrapping his arms tightly around his body, and rolled so Yoongi was perched on top of him, straddling his waist. Yoongi swayed a bit with the shift but soon settled, his hands splaying over Seokjin’s chest to steady himself. Seokjin glided his hands along Yoongi’s arms and cupped his face, smiling up at him. “You’re so pretty.”

“I know,” Yoongi replied, tilting his chin up with a small laugh. It stopped almost abruptly, cut off with a wet sound, but Yoongi cleared his throat and smiled again. “So, why am I on top?”

Seokjin hummed, moving his hands so they could rub Yoongi’s sides, lingering over the swell of his hips. “What do you want to do on top?”

Yoongi tilted his head as if he was considering that, then leaned over to the side, shoving his hand under the mountain of pillows. It took some time, but eventually, he pulled his hand back and handed Seokjin a small vial of oil. Considering Seokjin had never actually been in Yoongi’s bed, he couldn’t help the raised brow, but Yoongi didn’t comment. He just closed Seokjin’s fingers around the bottle and closed the distance between them, kissing him softly.

Getting the message, Seokjin returned Yoongi’s kiss and uncorked the bottle, pouring some oil on his fingers blindly. He missed a bit but that didn’t stop him from rubbing the oil he did manage to get onto his fingers to spread it around and then wrapping his arms around Yoongi again, pulling him closer. 

Yoongi moaned slightly, the sound small and breathless against his lips, and Seokjin took that as permission to go forward. He pressed gently against Yoongi’s hole, rubbed the rim with ever-increasing pressure until it gave and he could slide a finger in. He felt Yoongi clench tight around him and paused, using the time to kiss Yoongi harder, his lips moving faster until Yoongi relaxed and he could move. 

He lost himself in the process, dragging it out finger by finger, his lips never leaving Yoongi’s except when they needed to breathe or Yoongi moaned at a particularly well-placed thrust. Seokjin wasn’t trying to rile him up and Yoongi knew that, but he didn’t complain. He just kept his mouth on Seokjin’s, sucking on his tongue or nipping at his lips.

At some point, Yoongi’s back bent and he hunched over more, his hair sliding off his shoulders and forming a curtain around them. It darkened the room, making it seem like they were in a small space alone, the rest of the world far, far away. Seokjin could do nothing but cup Yoongi’s chin and kiss him again, not moving his hair away, even if it tickled. He wanted that atmosphere, needed it, and he was going to cling to it.

“I’m ready, hyung,” Yoongi whispered against his lips, his hips pressing down on Seokjin’s three fingers.

“You’re sure?” Seokjin asked, even if he knew he was. He’d known he was ready for a while but he hadn’t wanted to stop kissing him, hadn’t wanted to move further because he knew that would bring them to the inevitable end of this moment.

Yoongi nodded against his cheek. “Yes.”

“Okay, baby,” Seokjin murmured back, removing his fingers from Yoongi’s hole and reaching for the lube again. He poured some more on his hand and spread it on his cock before grabbing the base and directing it towards Yoongi’s hole.

Only then did Yoongi straighten, breaking the small, private space they’d had hidden behind his hair. Seokjin didn’t mind though. He just watched as Yoongi lifted himself up and sank down slowly on his cock, his head falling back as he took him in inch by inch. 

Once he’d bottomed out, Yoongi sighed, his eyes squeezing shut. Seokjin continued to watch him, his hands settling on Yoongi’s hips as he waited for him to get used to him. Yoongi kept his head tilted back, making the ends of his hair brush against Seokjin’s thighs. It tickled a bit but Seokjin ignored it, too busy memorizing the way Yoongi looked at that very moment as Yoongi had been doing previously. 

It was odd, in a way. Yoongi was surrounding him, his hole hot and tight around his cock, but all he could see was Yoongi’s face, the way his expression smoothed to contentment as he adjusted, the way his hand slid up his own body and settled just over his heart, just over the bruise that Seokjin had left that hadn’t had a chance to fade completely. The sex part, the pleasure and the euphoria, didn’t matter right now. They would in a few minutes, but right now, this is what mattered.

Pushing himself up so he was sitting, Seokjin nudged Yoongi’s hand out of the way and latched onto the spot again, sucking harshly. The bruise had barely started to heal but it didn’t matter. Seokjin wanted that mark to stay. He wanted Yoongi to be standing beside his bride on his wedding day still bearing his mark.

With that thought in mind, Seokjin moved his lips a few centimeters down and sucked a whole new bruise. Yoongi groaned, his fingers digging into Seokjin’s shoulders, urging him forward. “Hyung, keep going. Another one.”

Seokjin nodded against his skin and did as he was told, adding another mark and another. He was careful, keeping them in places no one would ever see (other than his future wife but Seokjin wasn’t thinking about that now), but he couldn’t stop. By the time he pulled back, Yoongi’s normally pale, unblemished chest was littered with marks. Seokjin couldn’t stop himself from running his own fingers over them. It was possessive and borderline creepy but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Especially not when Yoongi swooped down and claimed his lips, forcing him back onto the bed and hiding them both within that curtain of hair again. They stayed like that for a long time, neither moving other than to kiss or touch each other with their hands.

It wasn’t until Yoongi rested his forehead on Seokjin’s, his eyes squeezed shut, that they started to move together, Yoongi’s hips rising and falling in a steady, rolling rhythm on Seokjin’s cock. It was slow and unhurried, slower than they’d ever been together, and it made Seokjin want to cry. He turned his face into Yoongi’s cheek, his breathing choppy, and just held on, meeting Yoongi’s movements with gentle thrusts.

“Please don’t leave, hyung,” Yoongi whispered into his hair, his voice ragged. Seokjin felt wetness and knew that meant Yoongi was crying again even though they’d both agreed not to. “I know— you should but I—”

“I’m not leaving, Yoongi,” Seokjin cut him off, nearly crushing Yoongi in a tight hug that limited his movement. Seokjin just picked up the slack, thrusting up harder as Yoongi clung to him. “I told you, I’m here no matter what. This is my home, Yoongi. You’re my home, okay? I’m not leaving.”

Yoongi curled forward, his knees tucking up against Seokjin’s sides and his arms wrapping around Seokjin’s neck. It wasn’t the most ideal position for having sex, it wasn’t the best position for anything really, but Seokjin just held him tight, his hips stopping their movement as he ran his hand up and down Yoongi’s back in comfort and reassurance. 

But that wasn’t what Yoongi wanted. “Don’t stop, hyung. Please don’t stop. I need you.”

Seokjin’s hold tightened but he nodded and started thrusting up into Yoongi again, his movements more pointed now, looking to finally make them both come and give Yoongi what he needed. “Okay, baby. I got you. Hyung’s got you.”

Yoongi nodded against him, doing his best to match Seokjin without changing his position. He felt like he was being silly. And selfish. How could he ask Seokjin to stay? How could he do it while they were fucking? Seokjin should leave, run away and never come back. He didn’t need to be dragged down by Yoongi’s life, didn’t need to watch Yoongi be with someone else even if he didn’t—couldn’t—love her. He didn’t need that.

And yet he was going to stay. Yoongi heard the certainty in his voice even if it was wobbly and just as sad as Yoongi’s. He knew, without a doubt, that Seokjin would stay and languish in this sadness just as he was. He hated that he was happy about that. Not because he wanted Seokjin to be sad, far from it. It was because it made him feel, for a moment, like he wasn’t alone in this. That someone was going to go through it with him. 

Everyone always said that he was selfless, that he sacrificed for others. Yoongi knew that he had in the past, but he’d just asked for the most selfish thing anyone could possibly ask for and he was going to keep doing it. He didn’t deserve all that praise because he didn’t regret it either. Whatever got him more Seokjin. Even if it was just from afar.

“Hyung, hyung, Jin-hyung, please,” Yoongi chanted, the feeling of his cock rubbing between them and Seokjin’s almost crushing grip on his body doing almost as much as his cock hitting him deep. “Please, hyung.”

Seokjin groaned heavily, his thrusts turning sloppy as Yoongi purposefully clenched down around him. Seokjin started to thrust hard, snaking his hand between their bodies so he could jerk Yoongi off. Yoongi didn’t really cooperate, staying wrapped around him, but that was okay. Yoongi had been closer than he’d expected so a few strokes later, he was falling apart, crying out Seokjin’s name. Literally. Seokjin felt the tears again, felt his own eyes well up as he followed Yoongi over the edge, and latched on. What he didn’t feel was Yoongi’s magic wash over him like it always had before and that, more than anything, felt like the clearest sign of what they were losing.

“Everything will be okay, baby. I swear. You’ll be okay. I promise,” Seokjin whispered soothingly. He wasn’t sure if the words were for him or for Yoongi honestly. He wanted to believe everything would work out even if there was no evidence, no way really, that it would. He just wanted, for a little while longer, to believe that.

♔♔♔

When Seokjin woke up, Yoongi was still wrapped around him and there was a soft knocking sound on Yoongi’s door. He could barely hear it through the closed door of his bedroom, but it was persistent. Yoongi stirred against him but didn’t get up. Seokjin could tell from the tenseness of his frame that he was awake but he didn’t say anything.

The knocking continued and then, abruptly, it stopped. Seokjin almost breathed a sigh of relief but before he could, he heard a soft voice closer than the knocking had been. “I sent them away, Yoongi, but you will have to get up. I’m sorry.”

Seokjin squeezed his eyes shut, his arms tightening around Yoongi instinctively. “Yoongichi.”

“Please, just, shh,” Yoongi whispered, his voice ragged and tight. 

It was odd that, after only seeing or hearing Yoongi cry once, he could already recognize his crying voice. He knew now that tone meant he was holding back tears and losing the battle. Seokjin rubbed his hand over Yoongi’s still naked back, tracing idle words into his skin. “Okay.”

“Yoongi… the general is waiting…”

At that, Yoongi tensed even further, his hands tightening almost painfully where he’d grasped onto Seokjin. He wasn’t aware of Yoongi’s schedule but it made sense that he’d have to meet with the general given they’d just returned from a fact-finding mission about a potential war. It also explained why Hyungki of all people was the one coming to get him.

“Just give me a minute, hyung. Please,” Yoongi pleaded, his voice raising only loud enough to be heard through the door.

There was a pause then: “Okay.”

Even then, Yoongi didn’t move right away. He stayed where he was, face buried in Seokjin’s chest. If he were a worse person, a worse witch, he’d stop time right then so they never had to leave. There were spells for that, he could figure it out, but he knew he wouldn’t. The ramifications of something like that were far too long-lived, too risky, for him to do such a thing. Even if, at that moment, he was sure he’d give his life for just another day with Yoongi smiling at him, carefree and happy.

But, as he’d known, the moment couldn’t last forever, and Yoongi shifted, pushing himself up so he was sitting beside Seokjin on the bed. His hair was matted and his face swollen from crying, the sheets pooling around his hips. Seokjin couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and touching his cheek, funneling just enough power into Yoongi’s skin to hide the evidence of his sadness. Beauty and age spells were nothing for most witches, even easier for one as old as Seokjin, but he rarely used them. Usually, he didn’t see the need but the last thing he wanted was for the people of the palace to see Yoongi and pity him. Yoongi wouldn’t want that. 

“As beautiful as ever,” Seokjin murmured as he dropped his hand, satisfied with the results of his small spell.

Yoongi’s brows furrowed as he closed his eyes, taking a deep steadying breath. “You know what this means, right? I didn’t say but… you know.”

Seokjin felt his heart seize even as he nodded. “We can’t be together anymore.”

“No,” Yoongi confirmed, his throat working. He still hadn’t opened his eyes but Seokjin was sure that was because Yoongi wouldn’t be able to keep speaking if he was looking at him. Seokjin was having a hard enough time himself. “I won’t be— I won’t be one of those husbands who— it’s not her fault things are like this.”

Nodding, Seokjin took one of Yoongi’s hands in both his hands and brought it to his lips, kissing Yoongi’s fingertips. He was always surprised by the calluses he found there, which was silly. Yoongi may be a prince, an aristocrat, but he’d trained with the sword and bow. He used his hands for a great many things, even if the general thought he was useless. “You’ll be an amazing husband, Yoongi. You care and love so much. She’s lucky it’s you.”

Yoongi’s breath hiccupped. “I wish— I wish it wasn’t.”

“I know, baby,” Seokjin said, letting himself slip, just one last time, so he could offer comfort. “I wish that too.”

Yoongi finally opened his eyes and stared at him for a moment, not saying anything, then slipped out of the bed. Seokjin watched him disappear behind the divider to get ready and let his own eyes slip closed. Every part of this hurt, but he knew Yoongi was hurting more. At least he wasn’t going to have to marry someone else, have a family with someone else. He was allowed to keep going on and live his own life. So, as much as all this hurt, he could put on a tough face. It felt like the bare minimum.

Slowly, Seokjin shuffled out of Yoongi’s bed and grabbed his robes. He realized, with muted horror, that most of his clothing wasn’t actually inside the room. It was outside, where Hyungki was waiting. Rubbing his forehead, Seokjin took a fortifying breath and left the room, his eyes automatically finding Hyungki, who was standing off to the side, his attention directed out one of the many windows in the room. When he entered the room, Hyungki glanced at him but he didn’t say anything. He just nodded towards the pile of robes he’d clearly picked up before turning away. Seokjin grabbed them and went back to Yoongi’s room, quickly pulling on the layers and tying up his hair. 

When he was fully dressed, he paused, unsure if he should wait for Yoongi to come out or not. Before he really had to make a choice, Yoongi emerged from behind the divider, his expression impassive. He was dressed formally, his hair pulled up and held in place by a somewhat ornate hairpiece. It reminded Seokjin of the first time he’d seen Yoongi, how he’d looked untouchable and royal and a little cold, how he’d wondered if he was the man from the rumours or not. He knew now he wasn’t, so seeing that façade just made him sad.

Yoongi met his eyes, his expression softening just a bit, and moved closer, stopping when they were only arm’s length apart. Yoongi scanned his face, lingering on his features for longer than he really should, then smiled. “Thank you for showing me that I could trust people and be happy, hyung. Even if it was only for a few days, I’ll cherish it. And you.”

Seokjin closed the distance between them, cupping Yoongi’s face and kissing him hard. Yoongi pressed against him, latching on as if he was afraid Seokjin would vanish. “Try and be happy, Yoongi. For me.”

“I’ll try,” Yoongi murmured against his lips. “You do the same.”

Tightening his hold for a brief second, Seokjin let himself memorize the feeling of Yoongi pressed against him, holding tight, then he let go and stepped back. Yoongi’s hands fell away and the impassive expression returned before he turned away and left the room, moving without pause to where Hyungki was waiting for him. Seokjin followed him out, his own expression as blank as he could make it.

He saw Hyungki grasp Yoongi’s hand, his expression concerned and more than a little frantic, but he couldn’t hear what Hyungki was saying. Or maybe he could and the ringing in his ears was blocking it out. Either way, he made himself do as was proper of his position and bow deeply to both men. “Crown Prince Hyungki, Prince Yoongi, I’ll take my leave.”

“What—”

“You’re dismissed, Court Witch Seokjin,” Yoongi interrupted his brother, his tone level and bland, like he was just another servant. Which, Seokjin supposed, he was now.

“Yoongi—” Seokjin heard Hyungki start to say something more but he ignored it and bowed again before leaving the room and sliding the door closed. He felt his eyes start to sting and pushed it down. If Yoongi could stand through a council meeting where they decided his fate without crying, he could make it to his own rooms.

Except that’s not where he went. Without even really realizing it, Seokjin left the palace grounds and headed for the city, completely bypassing the city center and marketplace. It wasn’t until he was standing outside Taehyung’s gate that he realized what he’d done. He blinked at the cottage for a moment, admiring the late spring and early summer flowers, unsure if he should go inside.

Taehyung took that choice away from him by barreling outside, his voice loud and animated. “Jin-hyung! Finally! How can you ask me to look into something and then disappear, huh? So mean. Anyway, I figured it out! Kind of. I think— what’s wrong with your magic?”

Seokjin’s eyes moved to Taehyung slowly, like he was moving through quicksand. “My magic.”

“It’s unstable,” Taehyung muttered, concern thick in his voice as he jumped his own gate without opening it and grasped Seokjin’s shoulder. He scanned him from head to toe, his nose wrinkling. “You smell like sex and sadness. What did you do last night?”

There were a million things Seokjin could say but for some reason, the only thing that left his mouth was a broken laugh and a somewhat flippant comment. “The royal pool.”

Taehyung’s eyes snapped up. “Come inside.”

Though Seokjin considered himself to be a somewhat strong man, he was powerless as Taehyung dragged him inside and shoved him into a glorified pillow pile. Seokjin took in the room passively, realizing it was a new addition. He hadn’t helped make this particular room which meant that Taehyung’s magic had improved and grown in strength—that was good. 

It was a beautiful room too. Very Taehyung. The floor was normal for the most part, but moss had seeped in from the outside, coating one half in a thick, soft layer. On top of the moss, several plants seemed to be thriving and where they weren’t, Taehyung had put down cushions and pillows for seating, which was where Seokjin was now. Taehyung sat down on the moss itself, his whole body practically sinking into it. Seokjin realized then that the moss was moving around him, creating space for his comfort. It was an impressive display of passive magic and Seokjin was genuinely impressed. “You’ve improved so much, Tae. Look how the moss responds to you.”

Taehyung hummed, his fingers moving along the moss as if he was petting it like a dog. “It took some time, the moss is stubborn, but we’ve reached an agreement.”

“There’s a gardener at the palace,” Seokjin found himself saying. “He’s in love with the natural world in a way I’ve only seen you be. I think he’d love this place.”

“Perhaps you should bring him by,” Taehyung allowed though his expression was more guarded than a moment before. “After you explain why sleeping with one of the princes has messed up your magic so badly.”

“Is it messed up?” Seokjin wondered, taking stock of himself for the first time in twenty-four hours. His magic felt fine, strong and pulsing as it usually was. It was just unstable, as Taehyung had said. It kept rising and falling along with his own feelings. He could imagine it would look quite erratic from the outside. 

“Unstable,” Taehyung said again, his eyes narrowed. “Like you’re… broken.”

Seokjin found himself humming as he relaxed back into the cushions and stared up at the ceiling. It was covered in small white flowers and dark green vines. The sun filtered through a bit, but only enough to illuminate the room in a softer green glow. Taehyung really had done a wonderful job with this room. “That’s not far off, I suppose.”

There was silence for a moment then Taehyung stood up and brushed his hands over his robes. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Seokjin repeated, confused. That feeling only increased as Taehyung spun on his heel and left the room. It wasn’t until he heard the door close that he realized what was happening. He jumped to his feet and ran outside, his hand flying out to throw up a barrier talisman without thinking. He hadn’t used offensive magic, well, ever, but he needed to now. 

Taehyung hit the wall and turned to him. “What are you doing?”

“Stopping you. He didn’t hurt me, Tae. Calm down.”

That only made Taehyung’s expression cloud over. When he spoke, his tone was low and vaguely terrifying. Suddenly Seokjin didn’t want Jimin to meet him after all. Together, they’d either rule the world or destroy it and he honestly wasn’t okay with either. “You said he broke you.”

“No, I said I was broken, Tae. It wasn’t his fault,” Seokjin placated, his shoulders falling alongside the barrier. “They’re making him get married and he doesn’t want— he’s going to be faithful. To her.”

Taehyung blinked, then his expression morphed from anger to sadness. “Oh, hyung. I’m so sorry.”

Seokjin shrugged. “We both knew it was a possibility. He’s a prince after all.”

“That doesn’t erase the pain,” Taehyung murmured softly, returning to Seokjin’s side. He led him back to where they’d been seated before but this time he sat next to Seokjin and pulled him down, forcing him to rest his head on Taehyung’s lap. Seokjin stiffened for a moment, unused to someone younger than him comforting him in such a way, but, when he felt Taehyung’s hand on his shoulder, he relaxed and closed his eyes. “Do you want to tell me about him?”

“He’s so good, Tae,” Seokjin said after a moment, unsure where to even start. “He works so hard and cares about everyone so much. He’s so funny and he laughs at all my stupid jokes. I’ve never met anyone like him.”

Taehyung hummed quietly. “I’ve often thought witches were only born this way because we’re not in the right era.”

“What?” Seokjin asked, turning on his back so he could look up at Taehyung, who was staring blankly ahead of him. “What do you mean?”

“Why else would we have the power to age or not, if we want?” Taehyung continued. “It seems to me that our magic is an apology. An acknowledgment that fate messed up and brought us into the world too soon. It’s fate’s way of saying ‘hold on, your place will come soon, just hold on.’”

Seokjin felt his throat tighten. “You think Yoongi was my place.”

“I think…” Taehyung trailed off, his expression conflicted. “I think that I’ve never seen you care about anyone before, hyung. Not even me.”

Shooting up, Seokjin looked at Taehyung with a horrified expression. “I care about you, Tae. How could you say that?”

Taehyung winced, his eyes shifting, then he sighed as if he’d made a choice. “I think you think you do but part of caring is staying, hyung. When was the last time I saw you? The last letter you sent me? The last time you responded to one of mine? I let it go last time when you made it a joke but you’d lived in this city for how many months before going to the palace and you never once came to see me until you needed something.”

“I…” Seokjin trailed off, his stomach rolling over uneasily. “Witches aren’t usually together.”

“No, they’re not,” Taehyung agreed, “which is why I’m not mad. I understand, hyung. You care about me in the way witches care about each other: passively. You care about this prince in a very different way. He made you care in a different way. So, yes, to answer your question, I do think he’s your place. Are you going to fight for it?”

Seokjin let his eyes close, that feeling clogging his throat again. He lifted his hands and rubbed his face, laughing slightly as he felt wetness leak out, like his tears had just been waiting for permission. Taehyung curled around him, rubbing his arms soothingly, but it didn’t help. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering if his comfort had been so useless when Yoongi had been crying in his arms the night before. “I can’t. The marriage— the marriage will stop the war.”

Taehyung froze, a heavy breath leaving his mouth. “Fuck. I’m sorry, hyung.”

“Not as sorry as I am,” Seokjin whispered, his hands falling away. He didn’t bother hiding the still flowing tears or how upset he was. If he couldn’t be honest around Taehyung, who could he be honest around? “At least I can leave, move on. He’s stuck there.”

“Will you?” Taehyung asked, a small, bitter smile on his lips. “Leave?”

“No,” Seokjin admitted just as quietly. “I promised him I wouldn’t.”

Taehyung nodded. “I doubt he’d want you to stay and suffer for him.”

Seokjin sighed. He knew, even though Yoongi had asked him to stay, he wouldn’t begrudge him for leaving. That didn’t change his choice. “He wouldn’t. In fact, I’m sure he’ll ask me to leave sooner rather than later. But, if I do, he’s all alone, Tae. I can’t do that to him.”

“Then promise me that you’ll come here when it gets too much,” Taehyung said firmly.

“I’ll come here even when it’s not. I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t care, Tae. That was never my intention.”

“I know, hyung,” Taehyung assured him quietly.

Seokjin swallowed, unsure what to do with the surge of negative emotions swirling inside him. He’d never felt this bad or upset about anything before and it was entirely new to him. He knew he’d have to deal with it, work it out somehow before it tainted his magic, but for now he wanted a distraction. “You said you figured it out?”

“What?” Taehyung asked, thrown off by the shift in conversation.

“When I arrived, you said you’d figured something out?” Seokjin prompted as wiped his face again, drying his tears through sheer force of will.

Taehyung blinked a few times in confusion and then his face cleared. “Oh, yes! I did. Kinda.”

“Kinda?” Seokjin repeated, raising a brow.

“Well, you asked me to track down the witch, which I didn’t do, but I think I figured out why we can’t,” Taehyung explained, pushing himself up and walking away. Seokjin scurried after him, following Taehyung through more familiar parts of his cottage until they got to what Seokjin had dubbed his ‘magic shop.’ It was where Taehyung dried his herbs and made most of his spells as well as where he stored all his books—and Seokjin’s when he couldn’t carry them himself.

“Okay,” Seokjin said, crossing his arms. Considering he knew who the witch was now he wasn’t concerned with finding her—hell, he’d probably meet her at the wedding—but he would like to know how she hid herself. “How?”

“I don’t think she’s doing it on purpose,” Taehyung explained, pulling out a few books until he found the one he was looking for. When he did, he dropped it on the table he had set up, crushing some poor herbs in the process and started flipping through. When he found the page he was looking for, he spun the book around and gestured.

“Do you need a pestle and mortar or are you crushing herbs with books now?” Seokjin asked, unable to stop himself. He could hear the crunch of the herbs under the book as he spun it around from halfway across the room.

Taehyung blinked, his brow furrowing. “What?”

“Nevermind,” Seokjin muttered as he stepped closer, scanning the page quickly. It was the section about predictions and divination. Seokjin had read this a million times, it was why he was so comfortable doing the predictions for the Min family. It was basic stuff. “What am I supposed to be seeing?”

“This,” Taehyung clarified, tapping a small hastily written addition in the bottom corner. Seokjin’s copy didn’t have that note. “My teacher was fond of adding notes to all his books. Sometimes they’re funny but this time, I think it has our answer.”

Leaning closer, Seokjin squinted at the letters, trying to decipher them. He could only read half of it but it was enough to pique his interest. “His map caught fire?”

“Yes,” Taehyung confirmed, nodding. “Just like yours.”

“Okay, but why?” Seokjin asked in exasperation.

Taehyung shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Tae, what the hell? You said you figured it out!” Seokjin snapped despite himself.

“I said I ‘kinda’ figured it out,” Taehyung reminded him.

“How is this ‘kinda’?”

Taehyung closed the book. “Because it was a starting point. I knew my former teacher had had a similar problem so I did a tracking spell on his magic. Most of my stuff was his at one point, so it was easy to find something with his residue on it.”

Despite himself, Seokjin moved closer again. “And?”

“And I managed to track him back sixty years before the map was overwhelmed with black. A few minutes later it caught fire and the book I was using did too.” Taehyung frowned. “I liked that book.”

Seokjin paused, his heartbeat picking up. “The map turned black?”

“Yes,” Taehyung said with a nod, the frown disappearing. “It was unusual. Like all the tracking points converged and overwhelmed the area. It obscured my entire hometown.”

“You did figure it out,” Seokjin murmured. “Kind of.”

“See! I told you!” Taehyung boasted, then paused. “But how do you know?”

Seokjin spun away, pacing the room. Taehyung watched him walk back and forth as he started to explain. “While we were at the border, the king sent a letter. A witch had enchanted it so I would know it was safe. Turns out it was the queen.”

“The queen is a witch? What the hell is a witch doing as a queen?” Taehyung asked, just as he had previously.

“I don’t know. Either way, when I tried to trace it just to see what she’d been up to, the map turned black only this spot took up the entire capital city. It was like someone had poured ink all over it. After a few more minutes, it caught fire, just like yours. That’s how I realized the witch who blessed Yoongi and the queen were the same person.”

Taehyung crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. The flowers and leaves fluttered beside him, pressing against his skin and robes. “Okay, so something my master did and something this queen did caused a magical output so large it obscured a map.”

“Basically,” Seokjin agreed, still pacing.

“What the hell is powerful enough to do that?” Taehyung muttered. “I can’t think of anything.”

“Maybe the forbidden spells but you’d have to be old to even know them. I don’t,” Seokjin admitted, shaking his head. “Not even my teacher did. He only knew they’d existed. Like a fairy tale.”

Taehyung frowned. “Forbidden spells?”

Seokjin paused and looked at Taehyung. “Your teacher never taught you about the forbidden spells?”

“No,” Taehyung said slowly, shaking his head. “You mean like… the killing ones?”

“No,” Seokjin echoed. “We know those ones even if we don’t use them. I mean the spells that were wiped from spellbooks so we’d never use them. My teacher said they created such chaos that the witches at the time banded together and promised to never spread them or pass them down. They’ve been wiped entirely. No one living knows them now.”

Taehyung pursed his lips, his expression pensive and a little wary. “Are you sure?”

Chapter Text

Jung Hoseok was a great many things: a talented statesman, a snappy dresser, a delightful dancer, a good son. The list went on and on. His parents were not quiet in their pride and Hoseok loved that about them. He loved them, period. As Hoseok stood in his father’s workroom, however, he couldn’t stop a kernel of bitterness and disappointment from taking root.

“How could you back the marriage, father?” Hoseok asked, his tone tight and angry. “I didn’t bother you about the succession thing because I know it’s all about tradition with you but this? Why this? Why now? Shouldn’t the fact that General Park thinks it’s a good idea be enough for you to disagree?”

Councilman Jung sighed and took a seat, keeping his eyes averted from his son’s face. He didn’t want to see the disappointment he could hear in his voice. “It had nothing to do with him.”

“Everything has to do with him! He’s going to start a fucking revolt soon enough,” Hoseok snapped, forgetting himself for a moment. His father’s eyes finally moved to him, angry and affronted, and Hoseok pursed his lips and bowed. “Sorry.”

“Look,” Councilman Jung said slowly, rubbing his forehead. “It’s complicated.”

“Prince Yoongi is my best friend,” Hoseok reminded him, sadness leaking into his voice. “He doesn’t want this, father. You saw his face.”

“I did but that doesn’t mean he didn’t agree,” Councilman Jung revealed before moving to his letter chest and pulling out a scroll. “Read this.”

Hoseok frowned, recognizing the royal seal on the parchment, and took the scroll. He scanned it quickly, his frown only deepening. It wasn’t long but it explained the letter from King Lee and that Yoongi had agreed as long as the council approved. The king’s name was signed at the bottom. “This is how you knew to introduce the topic at all.”

“Yes,” Councilman Jung confirmed. “The prince may not be happy about the marriage, Hoseok, but he did agree. You said he’s your best friend so you know him well. Do you really think he’d refuse when the country is at stake?”

“I’m leaving,” Hoseok replied, not addressing that last statement, mostly because he knew his father was right and his father knew it too. 

Hoseok set the scroll down and left the room, making a beeline for their liquor storage before leaving the house entirely. He didn’t often go out at night, the dark scared him, but he clamped that fear down and walked faster, entirely focused on his destination.

He didn’t stop walking until he got to the palace gates. They were closed since it had grown late so he had to talk to the guards to be let in. Some of his agitated aura drained when he saw bright curious eyes and a happy smile appear from behind the formerly sealed doors. “Hyung!”

“Hi, Jungkook,” Hoseok greeted, returning his smile even if it was strained. “Pulled night duty?”

Jungkook nodded with a small shrug. “They make all the new guards do it. It’s okay though, I get to read for most of the night and my partner is cool.”

Hoseok glanced towards the door where his supposed partner should be. “Where is he?”

“He’s sleeping,” Jungkook explained, smiling sheepishly. “That’s why he’s cool. I can do pretty much whatever I want. I’m pretty sure he’s older than my grandfather so they’ve just…”

“Shoved him here,” Hoseok finished, shaking his head slightly. It would be very like the king to assign an older guard to a low-impact position rather than force him to retire. He’d always been a little too soft. “So, what do you say, Jungkook? Can you let a dear hyung in?”

Jungkook hummed and rocked on his heels. “Depends. You have something for me?”

Raising a brow, Hoseok laughed despite himself. “Not now, but I have some candy at home my uncle got when he was traveling east last month. I could be persuaded to give you some.”

“The sour one?” Jungkook asked, his eyes lighting up.

“The very same,” Hoseok confirmed, laughing again as Jungkook nodded earnestly. He’d known it was Jungkook’s favourite, that’s why he’d asked for it. “Alright, let me in then!”

“Sure,” Jungkook agreed, stepping back to open the gate again and lead Hoseok through. When he’d sealed the doors, he glanced at Hoseok. “Why are you here anyway? You don’t usually come out after dark.”

Hoseok sighed and lifted his hand, shaking the small bag he’d stored the liquor bottles in. “Yoongi-hyung.”

Jungkook’s mood dimmed immediately, his eyes turning sad. “Is he… okay?”

“I don’t know,” Hoseok admitted, looking away from Jungkook. He always wore his feelings so clearly on his face. It was something Hoseok had never been able to do as the son of a councilman and as much as he envied it, it worried him too. It was easy to take advantage of someone so honest. “I’m going to go check.”

“Tell him I said hi,” Jungkook murmured. “I haven’t seen him lately or I would say it myself…”

Hoseok sighed sadly at the crestfallen expression on Jungkook’s face. It wasn’t romantic, as he’d assumed the first time he’d seen the way Jungkook watched Yoongi, he was just too empathetic for his own good. Hoseok slid the bag around his wrist and lifted his hands, cupping Jungkook’s cheeks and squeezing them together. “I will say hi but only if you promise me you’ll work on hiding those feelings of yours.”

“F-feelings,” Jungkook repeated, his cheeks turning red as his eyes widened. “W-what feelings?”

“You’re sad right now,” Hoseok pointed out, “and it shows on your face. You’ll need to be better at hiding that if you want to survive here.”

“Uh, right,” Jungkook agreed hastily, clearing his throat as he stepped away and pulled Hoseok’s hands off his face. “I’ll work on that.”

Hoseok tilted his head, scanning Jungkook’s face. It was fairly impassive even though he was still blushing. Not bad for a first try. “You’ll get it eventually! I believe in you.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he looked away. “You should go see hyung.”

“I will. Have a good night, Jungkook,” Hoseok said, unable to stop himself from pinching Jungkook’s blushing cheek before he walked away. He heard Jungkook groan behind him, the sound whiny and upset, and laughed, feeling a bit lighter than when he’d first headed out. Jungkook usually had that effect on him.

By the time he arrived at Yoongi’s rooms, however, the feeling had faded. There were no lights visible behind the curtains of the window but he knew it was too early for Yoongi to be asleep. He was a night owl through and through so Hoseok knocked on his door anyway and waited. When Yoongi didn’t answer, he just kept knocking until he did.

“What?” Yoongi snapped, opening the door hastily. He was wearing a loose robe that was belted around his waist but concealed very little and his hair was a mess, like he’d been tugging on it incessantly. If Hoseok hadn’t known him so well, he’d have assumed he was interrupting something. But he did, so he knew Yoongi had likely started changing for bed and then got distracted. It wasn’t uncommon, especially when he had a lot on his mind. So he merely raised a brow waiting for Yoongi to register who was standing at the door. “Hoseok?”

“The one and only,” Hoseok confirmed, smiling slightly. “You look decidedly underdressed.”

Yoongi’s head dropped down, his eyes widening as he realized half his chest, and the marks Seokjin had left, were on display. He tugged the edges together and crossed his arms, clearing his throat. “Why are you here?”

Instead of answering, Hoseok simply raised the hand carrying the bag of wine bottles. “Can I come in?”

“Yes,” Yoongi agreed, stepping back and waiting for him to come inside. When he did, Yoongi closed the door and sighed. “I’ll make some light.”

Hoseok watched him go, his shape only vaguely illuminated by the moonlight. “How long have you been sitting in the dark?”

Yoongi lit a lamp and then moved to another, shaking out the match once the room had a soft glow. “I don’t know. I never lit the lamps so I suppose since the sun went down.”

“Hyung…” Hoseok breathed out.

“Don’t,” Yoongi ordered, his eyes sharp. “Are you here to drink or what?”

Hoseok pursed his lips but nodded and took a seat on one of the cushions. His personal favourite was the blue one and it was always out for him when he wanted to use it. He wasn’t sure if Yoongi just never put it away or if he had a sixth sense about when he was going to stop by. Regardless, he settled comfortably and took out the three bottles he’d brought with him. “Cups?”

Without a word, Yoongi pulled out two cups and set them on the small table before leaning back. Hoseok poured his cup full before filling his own much more modestly. Yoongi didn’t notice. He just took it, finished it off, and held it out for more. Hoseok obliged and filled it again. This time, Yoongi sipped slower, his eyes staring just past Hoseok, unseeing. 

Hoseok’s eyes dipped to Yoongi’s chest again, taking in the marks that littered his skin, and sighed. He’d suspected, of course, that Yoongi was involved with the witch but the marks all but confirmed it. He’d hoped Yoongi’s sadness had just been at the idea of losing his freedom, not losing someone specific, but he’d known it wasn’t. He hated being right. “How are you, hyung?”

Yoongi snorted, the sound bitter. “How do you think? Your father banded together with that asshole of a general and now I’m getting married. I’m not doing fucking great, Hoseok.”

“Hyung…”

“Sorry,” Yoongi muttered, downing the last of his wine and setting the cup down with a clack. “It’s not his fault. I’d already agreed before he did. I just…”

Hoseok shifted closer and grabbed Yoongi’s ankle, squeezing it once before letting go. “I know.”

“I thought… for a second there I thought I might actually be able to be happy, you know?” Yoongi confessed, sniffing loudly before clearing his throat. “Wishful thinking. Silly.”

“It’s not silly to want to be happy, hyung,” Hoseok assured him.

“Are you?” Yoongi asked pointedly.

Hoseok hesitated, that was a loaded question and they both knew it. “Miran is a good wife.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Yoongi snapped, waving his hand for the bottle. It was on the table and he could easily grab it himself but he didn’t. Instead, Hoseok leaned forward and filled his cup once again before setting the bottle down. It hit the table harder than he’d intended but Yoongi barely flinched. He just stared at him harder. “Well? Are you?”

“I’m… content,” Hoseok finally settled on. “My parents are happy and healthy, Miran is cared for and comfortable. I’m established in the council already and my sister has very good marriage prospects on the horizon. My life is good.”

“That’s not what I asked, Hoseok,” Yoongi repeated.

Hoseok sighed and finished off his first cup of wine. “No, I would not say I’m particularly happy. Just because I’m attracted to women doesn’t mean I wanted to marry one but not all of us get to hold off, hyung. Some of us are the firstborn son and don’t have a choice.”

Yoongi deflated and looked away. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep apologizing tonight. It’s unsettling,” Hoseok murmured after a moment, his mind drifting to blushing cheeks and bright eyes before he shook himself and poured more wine. “Is this how you’re going to be now?”

Snorting lightly, Yoongi’s lips kicked up in the corner. “No. I’m just exhausted. I had to pick bride gifts today. I know it’s custom but how the hell am I supposed to pick something for a woman I’ve never even met?”

“I just went with silk and jewelry,” Hoseok admitted with a shrug. “The matchmaker suggested it.”

“That’s what the overseers said too,” Yoongi mumbled. “There’s already a whole committee formed to handle the wedding from start to finish. King Lee hasn’t even responded yet and everything is just… moving forward.”

Hoseok’s brows furrowed. “Doesn’t this usually take… so much longer? I feel like your brother was engaged for months.”

“Five,” Yoongi confirmed with a nod, his eyes blinking slowly. “I guess potential war makes people more forgiving of overlooking tradition.”

“That’s a plus, I suppose. That wedding process was long,” Hoseok remembered, shaking his head. “Much longer than mine.”

“Royalty,” Yoongi muttered, waving his hand in the air. It was the one holding the cup so wine spilled on his fingers but he didn’t notice—or care—he just continued on, “If nothing else, we love the pomp and circumstance.”

Hoseok smiled as he took the cup from Yoongi and set it down on the table. Yoongi’s eyes moved to him slowly but he didn’t comment nor did he stop him when Hoseok took his hand and squeezed it. “How are you really handling this, hyung? What can I do?”

Yoongi didn’t answer right away. He just stared at their hands. Hoseok’s weren’t as large as Yoongi’s so he didn’t engulf them entirely. He just wrapped them both around one of Yoongi’s and held it tight. Hoseok watched Yoongi’s face contract and his chest rise and fall sharply. He wasn’t sure what was happening but it was very clear something was wrong. He scrambled closer and bent over, trying to get a better look at Yoongi’s eyes, but before he could, Yoongi tugged his hand away. “Drink. You can drink with me. I’ll have to do wedding stuff all day tomorrow—there’s so much and I— can we just drink?”

“Of course, hyung,” Hoseok agreed, not moving from where he was essentially bending over Yoongi, who didn’t look at him as he grabbed the bottle and drank straight from it, not bothering with a cup this time. Hoseok winced, worry crawling over his skin and making him antsy. He didn’t want Yoongi to deal with his clear sadness with alcohol or by bottling it up. He wanted him to talk, to express himself, but, as Yoongi took another long drink, his free hand rubbing back and forth over his chest mindlessly, Hoseok knew that wouldn’t happen. At least not yet. The wound was too open, too raw, for Yoongi to talk about it yet.

“Thank you,” Yoongi mumbled, his posture relaxing as he realized that Hoseok wasn’t going to push him to talk about it anymore. He knew he should but right now it all felt too much. He missed the hollow feeling already. Now he just felt like his insides were desperately pushing to get out, threatening to tear him apart. He didn’t know how to explain that feeling, didn’t know that he wanted to.

“You know I’m always here for you, hyung. No matter what,” Hoseok reminded him firmly.

“I know,” Yoongi confirmed, smiling slightly. “Couldn’t get rid of you even if I wanted to.”

“Not a chance,” Hoseok teased, grabbing one of the unopened bottles so he could refill his cup without taking the bottle away from Yoongi. “I’m here to stay.”

Seeing Yoongi’s smile widen a bit, Hoseok felt a little better. They hadn’t always been this close, in fact, it had taken years of needling and one-sided conversations entirely led by Hoseok, but eventually, Yoongi had learned to trust him. As much as he trusted any of them anyway. Hoseok could still remember standing in the middle of a class, his hands shaking around a sword he was holding as far away from his body as possible. He hated swords and violence, always had, and the idea of taking an entire class based around those things terrified him. 

Most of the other students had looked at him with disdain, especially those with fathers in the military, but Yoongi hadn’t. He’d simply moved closer and directed Hoseok with a quiet voice the teachers couldn’t overhear, helping him learn to deal with his fear and master the art of swordplay. Hoseok still didn’t carry a sword, it remained unused and untended in his home, but he knew how and that was entirely due to Yoongi’s quiet instruction. He would forever be thankful for that. And the years of friendship that followed. He just wished he could do more than show up with alcohol. 

It was just that they’ve had relatively easy lives so far. Even if none of their little band of aristocrats were overly happy with every part of their lives, they hadn’t really struggled either. Hoseok may not love his wife, but he respected her and they got along well. Jimin may not agree or even like his father but he loved his job and was happy in it. Jungkook may not like the idea of fighting or hurting people but offering protection to those in the palace made him feel like he was contributing. Namjoon often wished he could be home more, start a family and live comfortably, but he loved investigating and visiting new places just as much. 

They all had things that made them happy in some way so Hoseok genuinely didn’t know how to approach true unhappiness like he was seeing in Yoongi. His happiness had always been in his family and country. That much had always been obvious. He still had that now, Hoseok knew that, but for once, it looked like Yoongi had been trying to find happiness outside those roles and he’d succeeded. Only for it to be taken away. None of them could give him Seokjin, give him that life he’d clearly been edging towards, and they knew it.

So, alcohol it was. For now at least. 

♔♔♔

Yoongi blinked, his vision blurring as he tried to reach out in front of himself to stop the door from moving. When his hand touched it, he found it firm and immobile. But then why was it moving whenever he looked at it? Yoongi blinked again but it didn’t help.

If it was moving, why didn’t it feel stationary? 

Yoongi pushed on the door, suddenly deciding that, if it was going to ignore his wishes, the door could at least open for him. But it didn’t. Was it locked? Why was it locked? Was he not— 

“Am I… am I not allowed in?” Yoongi mumbled, his lips trembling at the thought. Why wasn’t he allowed in? He thought— he thought— “Hyung, are you, hic, mad at me? D-disappointed?”

The door didn’t answer, nor did the man supposedly hidden inside. It made Yoongi’s throat tighten. Had he left? He’d promised he wouldn’t but maybe he had. That would be better, wouldn’t it? If he was gone? Yoongi rubbed his face with the backs of his hands, the feeling almost removed, like he wasn’t touching his own skin. He’d thought he’d at least tell him before he left.

Why hadn’t he told him?

Yoongi stumbled forward and kicked the door, his shoulders rising and falling erratically as he started to cry. Somewhere in the back of his mind, in the part that was so heavily clouded by alcohol, it was practically none existent, he knew he needed to return to his rooms before someone saw him. He was making a fool of himself, ruining the reputation of the Min line, but right now he didn’t care. He just covered his face and leaned his head against the door, letting himself cry.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

Unlike last time, the door opened and Yoongi tumbled in, nearly causing the figure on the other side to fall to the ground underneath his sudden weight. “Yoongi? What are you doing? What are you wearing?”

Yoongi’s head snapped up, his already alcohol-blurred vision even worse due to unshed tears. But he didn’t need clear vision to recognize Seokjin. “Hyung? You’re here? You didn’t leave me?”

“Are you drunk?” Seokjin asked, pulling Yoongi inside and closing the door behind him so no one would see his clothing—or lack thereof. The rose gold talisman flashed, reactivating itself, and Seokjin sighed. He hadn’t heard Yoongi come to the door since they’d redone the talismans and clearly Yoongi had forgotten that. Though, scanning Yoongi’s flushed cheeks and glazed eyes, Seokjin wasn’t sure he could remember anything at the moment. “Why are you drunk, Yoongi?”

“Hoseok,” Yoongi mumbled, curling up against Seokjin’s chest, his fingers tangling in his sleeping robes as he did so.

“And he let you leave?” Seokjin wondered, all but dragging Yoongi towards the sitting area. He tried to make him sit down but he refused to let go of him so Seokjin sat down with him, flicking his wrist to conjure some water for Yoongi to drink. 

“Doesn’t know,” Yoongi whispered conspiratorially. “Had to go home. Promised to stay inside. This is inside.”

Seokjin closed his eyes, his brows furrowing with an odd combination of endearment and frustration. “Someone could have seen you.”

Yoongi hummed in agreement and snuggled closer, his fingers tightening where he was still latched onto Seokjin. “Late. Fewer rounds.”

“Why are you here, Yoongi?” Seokjin asked softly. Their parting this morning had been very final. They’d said what they’d needed to say, they’d agreed to stop doing this, so why was he here now? It was just making all this so much harder. They both knew it. A clean break, a return to how they’d been before, would make it easier for them to move forward. This wasn’t that.

“I… are you mad?” Yoongi whispered, his shoulders hunching. “Sorry. Sorry. So—”

“I’m not mad,” Seokjin rushed out, realizing that questioning a drunk man who was clearly sad about what was going on probably wasn’t the best idea. “I was just wondering.”

Yoongi nodded against his chest, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of his robe now instead of holding on. Considering Seokjin had seen that exact nervous twitch before and knew it was something Yoongi did when he was anxious, Seokjin laid his hand over Yoongi’s and squeezed. “I’m not mad, Yoongichi. Just worried about you.”

“Didn’t mean to make you worry,” Yoongi mumbled.

“I know, baby,” Seokjin sighed out, slipping up once again. He was just as bad at this as Yoongi was. He shouldn’t be cradling him close, shouldn’t be soaking in the feeling, shouldn’t be using his name or calling him ‘baby.’ So many shouldn’ts and yet he found no regret in his heart. He didn’t want to stop in the first place so why would he feel bad? “It’s just hard because…”

Yoongi stiffened as Seokjin trailed off and he immediately winced. He wasn’t sure how to continue, if he should apologize or change the subject. Before he could make a choice, Yoongi pulled back and slapped both his hands on Seokjin’s face far too forcefully. Seokjin grimaced at the flash of pain in his cheeks but met Yoongi’s suddenly animated eyes warily. Yoongi squeezed his face then smiled. “Let’s run.”

In no version of events, in no wishful, idle thoughts, had Seokjin even once imagined he’d hear those words leave Yoongi’s lips. Even now, he found himself going over the various languages he knew just to make sure he was understanding Yoongi’s words properly. He was. “Um, like to get into shape?”

For a moment, Yoongi simply stared at him, confusion heavy on his face, and then he laughed. “No. Silly, hyung. Run away! We can— um, a witch cottage. I’m a witch, right? We can make one! I, uh, don’t know how but we, but we could.”

“Oh, Yoongi,” Seokjin whispered, the feeling of his heart breaking so tangible he was sure he could actually hear it. “I would love that but you know we can’t.”

“We— we could,” Yoongi insisted, his hands shaking now even though they still held Seokjin’s face.

Seokjin smiled sadly. “If we did, you’d never see your anyone again. Never meet your niece or talk to your brother, never take care of your parents as they get older, never laugh with your friends again. You’d never see anyone, Yoongi.”

Yoongi’s brows furrowed. “They could visit.”

“No, they couldn’t, Yoongi,” Seokjin insisted softly. “We’d be committing treason. They’d never be able to see you ever again. We’d have to leave this place, this country, and never come back. Are you prepared to do that?”

“But we…” Yoongi trailed off, a dozen emotions flitting across his face. Seokjin knew these were just drunken thoughts, that sober Yoongi would never even consider leaving the palace behind, but he needed to say these things anyway. He needed Yoongi to know that, if Yoongi really could abandon all those things, he’d leave with him in a second. But he knew Yoongi couldn’t, just as Yoongi did. The increasingly upset expression on his face made that abundantly clear. “We could…”

“I love you so much, Yoongi,” Seokjin whispered, interrupting Yoongi’s words as he covered Yoongi’s hands with his own and turned his head to kiss Yoongi’s palm.

Yoongi’s lips trembled as he fell forward, collapsing into Seokjin’s chest with a wet sob. Seokjin closed his eyes and wrapped Yoongi up in a tight hug, just as he’d done the night before. If he could make all this go away, he would. For the first time, he understood why some witches tried to turn back time. As happy as he’d been with Yoongi for that brief time, he’d give that up for Yoongi to not feel such pain now. For him to not feel such pain now. 

He knew he was handling it better than Yoongi was and he hoped Yoongi didn’t think that was from a lack of caring. It was simply that he’d watched a lot of people die in his time, seen a lot of people leave him and never come back, so he was better at compartmentalizing it. He knew that concerned Taehyung but it was just the way it was. His magic didn’t agree, hence its erratic fluctuations, but those didn’t matter either. He needed to move forward and he needed to make this easier for Yoongi.

Which was why, as Yoongi’s breathing slowed and his body relaxed, he lifted him up, making him stand. Yoongi swayed a bit, his eyelids heavy with sadness and alcohol, but remained upright. Seokjin turned around and crouched down, pulling his arms over his shoulders and grabbing Yoongi’s thighs to lift him up. Yoongi draped himself over Seokjin’s back and snuggled close. Seokjin could feel him smiling against his neck and took a deep breath, forcing down the wave of sadness that threatened to overwhelm him.

Slowly, Seokjin carried Yoongi back to his rooms, making sure to avoid anywhere he could hear people moving. Yoongi hadn’t been spotted coming to see him—hopefully—so he wanted to make sure he returned the same way.

Thankfully, it was a quick trip since their rooms weren’t all that far apart. Seokjin slipped inside quickly, his eyes automatically finding the now clearly empty wine bottles on Yoongi’s work table. Yoongi had said Hoseok was there too so that made Seokjin feel a bit better—at least Yoongi wasn’t drinking alone.

Tearing his eyes away, Seokjin made his way to Yoongi’s room and carefully settled him on the bed. He went easily, his face already relaxed into sleep even if he was still moving and mumbling quietly. Seokjin took a seat on the edge of the bed and pulled the blankets up, tucking them around Yoongi tightly. Yoongi rolled onto his side and curled up, his hands tucked under his chin and clutching the blankets.

“You’re not staying, are you?” Yoongi whispered after a moment.

“No,” Seokjin confirmed, his hand moving to tuck some wayward hair behind Yoongi’s ear. Yoongi pressed his lips together and nodded, his eyelids closing before snapping open again. It was clear he was fighting sleep. “Go to sleep, Yoongi. I’ll stay until you do.”

Yoongi curled tighter. “You’ll be gone when I wake up.”

“Yes, but you still need to sleep,” Seokjin told him. Silence stretched after that but Seokjin could tell he wasn’t asleep. He was too still, too stiff, to be asleep. “Yoongi…”

“Can you pet my hair?” Yoongi asked suddenly. “Like you… did before.”

Seokjin hesitated but relented, shifting closer so he could slide his fingers into Yoongi’s hair. It was more knotted than usual but Seokjin didn’t mind. He simply worked out the knots and kept going, threading his fingers through again and again. Yoongi was still awake but he was relaxing more, so Seokjin took that as a good sign and continued.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi murmured, breaking the silence. He sounded more sober than before and it startled Seokjin enough that his fingers froze. When he saw Yoongi’s cheek twitch, likely from biting the inside, he started again, keeping his eyes on Yoongi’s face. After a few more seconds, he continued, “I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.”

“Ah, Yoongichi…” Seokjin breathed out, the sharp stabbing pain he’d felt when he’d been carrying Yoongi returning full force. “Don’t apologize. I’d rather you come to me than be sad alone.”

“But you’re sad too,” Yoongi pointed out. “I can see it. It’s all wild and wavy.”

Seokjin blinked, realizing Yoongi was talking about his magical aura. He leaned back and looked at Yoongi’s eyes, trying to understand, but Yoongi’s eyes were still hazy. He might sound more sober but he wasn’t. Maybe the alcohol allowed him to access a part of his magic he couldn’t before? Regardless, it didn’t matter. “I am sad.”

“It looks like I feel,” Yoongi added. “Everything pushing out, out, out.”

“That’s your magic,” Seokjin revealed, wondering if Yoongi would even remember this tomorrow. “It’s reacting to your emotions. When you calm down, it’ll stop.”

“Hollow… was better,” Yoongi mumbled slowly, his words drawn out as he fought sleep. “Hurt less.”

Seokjin brushed Yoongi’s hair back and glided the backs of his fingers over Yoongi’s jaw. “Sometimes it’s important to hurt.”

This time, Yoongi didn’t respond. Seokjin stared at him for a long time, unsure how he was meant to just keep going on like this. It had been a day, not even a full day, and he felt like someone had reached into his chest to crush his heart slowly for their own amusement. He’d lived a hundred years and he’d never once felt this type of pain. He supposed that’s what Taehyung meant when he said that Seokjin didn’t really care about people. Too bad he’d finally found someone to care for at the worst possible time in the worst possible scenario. 

Sighing, Seokjin leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Yoongi’s forehead. He felt him push into it, seeking him out even in his sleep, and had to squeeze his eyes shut. Yoongi had done that before too. Why was everything repeating now? Was it only to show him that what he’d thought was bad before could be so much worse? If so, fate was a cruel mistress.

Seokjin made himself stand up, made himself leave Yoongi’s rooms, return to his own and get into bed. Only when he’d done that did he let himself relax, let that painful feeling from before overwhelm him. It was like a wave crushing him, like he’d been submerged in the ocean and no matter how hard he tried to escape, to breathe, he couldn’t. It hurt, but, as he’d told Yoongi, sometimes it was important to hurt. 

So, for the first time since his parents had sent him off to his teacher’s house all those decades ago, Seokjin let himself break down. The few tears he’d shed with Taehyung were nothing, a mere hint of the turmoil his magic was showing off for anyone to see. He let himself think of all the wasted time they’d lost because of hesitation, all the smiles and laughs hidden behind closed doors, all the soft touches and frantic clutches, and, most of all, he thought about the warm feeling of their magic mixing like they’d been made to do just that and nothing else.

He promised himself that tomorrow he’d pull himself back together and move forward like he’d always intended on doing, but, for now, in the cover of darkness, Seokjin let himself be broken. Just as he’d told Taehyung he was. He just hoped all the pieces were easy to find in the morning light.

♔♔♔

When Yoongi awoke the next morning, he wished he could say he didn’t remember anything, but he did. He remembered it all in startling clarity and he was mortified. Not only had he gone to Seokjin when he’d made a point to end things, but he’d also asked to run away. Yoongi couldn’t believe those words had left his lips. He hadn’t even been aware he was even fantasizing about it. He kept going over it again and again in his mind as he got ready for the day but he couldn’t think of a single time he’d thought about running. He wasn’t sure where his drunken thoughts had come from but now he had to deal with them.

Could he run?

Yoongi shook his head at himself before pulling his hair up and wrapping it in a bun. He chose a random ribbon and paused, his fingers lingering as he remembered the night before and how his ribbon had still been tied around Seokjin’s wrist. He hadn’t taken it off. Some part of Yoongi had hoped Seokjin didn’t really mean it when he’d said that he loved him. If he didn’t, if he was just saying that to make Yoongi feel better, that would mean Seokjin would be okay after some time. But he wasn’t. Seeing how upset Seokjin had been, or rather, how erratic his magic had looked—he still needed to figure out how he’d seen that—told him all he needed to know about Seokjin’s true feelings.

Tying the ribbon around his hair, Yoongi left his rooms, barely pausing as a servant fell into step beside him. He’d been assigned as part of the wedding committee and would now haunt Yoongi’s every waking moment. He seemed nice enough but considering Yoongi hated the entire process, he hated him too. He felt a little bad about it but that’s the way it was.

“What am I doing today?”

The servant hesitated a moment then cleared his throat. “A letter arrived from King Lee this morning. You are expected to meet with the king and crown prince to hear the contents after which, if it is positive, the committee will officially start the wedding process. Since there will be no selection, some of the usual steps will be skipped.”

Yoongi nodded, already readjusting his path towards his father’s rooms. He knew, without asking, that’s where he was. Since the servant didn’t correct him, Yoongi knew he was right. 

“You can wait here,” Yoongi said as he approached the doors. The servant bowed and moved off to the side beside the guard who was monitoring his father’s rooms. When he saw Yoongi, he bowed and knocked, announcing his presence. “Thank you.”

“Your Highness,” the guard replied, slightly surprised that Yoongi had thanked him for doing his job.

Sweeping past the guard, Yoongi entered the room. His brother had beat him there but that was to be expected. He was surprised to see that his mother wasn’t present but she’d made her feelings on this arrangement very clear so he understood. “King Lee replied?”

“He did,” Byungho confirmed, gesturing to the scroll currently held open on the table. It was only then that Yoongi registered the court historian standing in the corner, his brush moving quickly as he recorded what was happening. “The engagement is confirmed.”

“I see,” Yoongi murmured. “That’s good.”

Byungho grimaced but continued on, “King Lee will come to visit with the crown prince in a week’s time to work out the finer points of the alliance and exchange wedding gifts. The princess will join them.”

That made Yoongi’s head snap up. “What? But that’s not how— why?”

“It seems King Lee holds little regard for ostentatious wedding displays. Their customs are not entirely the same as ours in the first place and he does not wish to be involved in extended ceremonies.”

Yoongi blinked rapidly. He’d already been unsettled by how fast all this was going but he’d thought he’d had a little time at least. He was supposed to select someone to go offer the gifts and get the official agreement from the princess and her family—he’d thought Hoseok or Namjoon would do it since his brother was too high ranking to go. They had to consult the Office of Astrology for a date and confirm. They had to build the Detached House for the princess to stay in. They had to— there were so many things that took time so he assumed he’d have weeks if not months. Maybe not the five his brother had but at least one or two.

“So soon,” Yoongi managed after his silence had extended too long.

“King Lee has also requested that…” Byungho trailed off and cleared his throat, his eyes darting to the historian and then back to Yoongi. “He has requested that the witch his son met set the date. Since he… since he healed you and made a good impression of Crown Prince Lee, King Lee thinks he will pick an auspicious day.”

Yoongi wanted to laugh. Or cry. The wedding committee was going to ask his lover to choose the date of his wedding to another person. Yoongi wasn’t even sure if cruel was a harsh enough word. “What about the Office of Astrology? Won’t they be displeased?”

“Given the circumstances, they will have to accept it,” Byungho replied. He could see the horror on his son’s face, just as he’d seen it on Hyungki’s and felt it on his own. If there was a way to get around the request without outing his son, he would have done so, but there was no reason why Seokjin couldn’t do it aside from their personal relationship. In fact, given that he’d helped predict the best outcome of the war, it made sense. “You will not have to ask him.”

“I didn’t think I would,” Yoongi mumbled. That hadn’t even occurred to him but he supposed it was nice that his father wasn’t going to make him do it himself considering the— Yoongi’s head snapped up, his brows furrowing. Why would his father care? Yoongi looked between Hyungki and his father, seeing their matching expression of sorrow, and felt his stomach bottom out. He knew why Hyungki looked so sad, and if his father looked the same… Yoongi’s eyes darted to the historian then back to his father. He couldn’t even ask now but he found he didn’t need to. His father’s expression said it all: he knew and he was sorry. 

Despite everything, Yoongi felt a sense of relief flood him. He’d never let himself think about what his father would say or feel about his sexuality. The possibility he would be upset or disappointed had been too hard to bear so he’d just refused to think about it. Finding out that his father knew and wasn’t disowning him but in fact felt bad for making him get married offered him more comfort than he’d expected. It was a small drop in a sea of pain but it was a drop.

“We won’t have time to construct the Detached Palace as we did for Taeso,” Byungho said after some time, clearing his throat again, “so the Princess will stay with her family in the guest court as she would if this was a normal visit. This will mean you two will have a chance to meet when you usually wouldn’t. Perhaps this will make it… easier.”

He felt himself nod even though he wasn’t really sure he agreed. He didn’t think anything would make this easier. “Just let me know which of the traditions I’m still required to follow. If things are changing so much, I’m unsure what I’m expected to do.”

“The committee will give you a list,” Byungho told him. “Hyungki, why don’t you bring him to them now?”

Hyungki glanced at his father then nodded, bowing deeply before escorting Yoongi out once he’d done the same. They didn’t speak for a long moment, both conscious of the attendants trailing behind, but eventually, Yoongi needed to know. “He knows, doesn’t he?”

“He does,” Hyungki admitted quietly. “I only found out when the first letter arrived. He’s apparently known since you were a child.”

Yoongi nodded, his attention flitting over the buildings around him. The flowers were blooming more brightly now that they were moving into summer. He really should tell Jimin that he’d done a good job. Speaking of jobs… “We can’t ask Seokjin to do this, hyung.”

Hyungki pursed his lips. “I’m not sure how to get around it. The committee is the one who has to do the process, not us. If we intervene it will be suspicious.”

“Asking him is just cruel,” Yoongi whispered.

“I know,” Hyungki agreed and said nothing more. There was nothing to say anyway. They couldn’t stop the committee from asking since it was King Lee’s request. Yoongi was beginning to feel like they couldn’t do anything. Nothing had been in their control since he’d stepped in front of that fucking arrow. If only he’d known that he hadn’t done that in Seokjin’s original version of events. Maybe then he, or rather they, wouldn’t be in this position. It was a useless wish but one Yoongi found himself making anyway. If he could go back, he’d do it differently. He’d do so much differently.

But he couldn’t do that so all he could do was make the best of a terrible situation. Even if it caused him physical pain, he’d stop going to see Seokjin, stop thinking about him all the time and wishing for things to be different. When the princess came, he’d make a good impression and catch up with Dongha. He’d follow the traditions they retained for the wedding and plan well. Then, when the time came, he’d get married and be a good husband. He’d…  have children, as he should, so the line of succession will be secure. He’d do all the things Second Prince Min Yoongi should do and he’d do them well. He couldn’t control most things in his life but he could control this. That would have to be enough.

Chapter Text

“I think the colour is quite nice, if you don’t mind me saying, Your Highness.”

Sooyoung glanced at her attendant and nodded. “It is. Yoongi picked it out himself.”

“He has good taste,” the attendant said with a nod. “He must be very excited about today!”

“I think I’m going to take it to him personally,” Sooyoung said rather than acknowledging that comment. It wasn’t meant to be spiteful or even poke fun but it did hurt and she honestly would rather get through the day as quickly as possible.

“Of course, Your Highness,” the attendant murmured, already folding up the elegantly sewn hanbok she’d had made for Yoongi. It was in the navy he’d chosen and Sooyoung knew it would look wonderful on him. He looked good in dark jewel-toned colours due to his fair skin. It was a trait Hyungki had as well which they’d both inherited from their father. She was much more tanned regardless of how much time she spent inside.

When the hanbok was properly folded and wrapped, Sooyoung led her attendants out of the room in the direction of Yoongi’s rooms. She knew he’d have his own attendants there to make sure he was getting ready properly and she was certain Yoongi would be about a minute away from kicking them all out. He’d always hated having help getting dressed, even as a child, so she hadn’t pushed it once he’d gotten older. It wasn’t like he usually dressed elaborately and actually needed the help anyway.

Her attendant knocked on Yoongi’s door and announced their arrival, stepping aside and bowing when a servant opened the door for them. Sooyoung went inside and, sure enough, Yoongi was standing in the middle of the room with a borderline homicidal look on his face. It made her laugh despite the situation. “Oh, Yoongi. It’s not that bad!”

“I can dress myself,” Yoongi answered, his tone sliding towards whiney. 

“I know you can,” Sooyoung said indulgently, shaking her head. “I brought you a gift.”

Yoongi’s expression smoothed out as he met her gaze. “For?”

“Your sacrifice,” Sooyoung replied honestly, pausing before adding, “Though you are healed, an arrow wound is no small matter.”

She didn’t have to explain that she was only mentioning the wound due to the ears in the room, Yoongi understood. It was clear in the way his expression fractured for just a moment before turning impassive as he bowed. “Thank you, mother.”

“Here, take a look,” Sooyoung prodded, waving forward the attendant still holding the wrapped hanbok in her arms.

Yoongi straightened and took the offered package, quickly unwrapping it. The second he did so, he paused, his fingers tracing over the fabric. The navy had caught his eye immediately but now that it was fashioned into a hanbok, it was even more remarkable. The fabric shimmered under the sunlight streaming in from the windows and the needlework added a small but notable pattern to the already lovely peace. Yoongi allowed his fingers to follow the thread for a few inches, his focus almost entirely on keeping his breathing even. “Why gold?”

Sooyoung shifted closer, her eyes dropping to the golden thread the seamstress had used to do the needlework. The simple answer was that Seokjin had told her to. She’d mentioned that she was making Yoongi a special hanbok and Seokjin had suggested gold. It wasn’t an uncommon colour for royalty, many of Yoongi’s more formal outfits were black and gold, but something about the way Seokjin said it made her think there was a hidden meaning. Yoongi’s reaction told her she was right. “I was told that it was your colour.”

Yoongi’s lips trembled, a small pained smile flashing across his face. “It is.”

“Why don’t you try it on?” Sooyoung suggested. “Alone.”

“Thank you,” Yoongi murmured, never once looking at the attendants who were now shifting anxiously since they had nothing to do.

Once Yoongi had disappeared into his bedroom, Sooyoung dismissed them with a wave. “You can go. I will make sure the prince is ready for their arrival.”

“Your Highness,” the older servant murmured. Though it was just her title, the tone said ‘but we’ve been ordered to do this.’ 

It always struck her as slightly odd how royalty was just supposed to know what the tone of their servants meant instead of them just saying what they needed. She figured it was because she hadn’t grown up in a royal household that she disliked it so much. Neither of her sons nor her husband seemed to notice or care. “I’m aware. I will take care of it.”

After another moment’s hesitation, Yoongi’s attendants bowed and left the room. Sooyoung glanced at her own and inclined her head to the door. “You can wait outside as well.”

“Your Highness,” she agreed before doing as she was told.

Now alone, Sooyoung moved to the vanity the attendants had set up for Yoongi and took a seat. It was similar to her own though less ostentatious. Whoever had chosen it clearly knew Yoongi well. She’d guess that was her oldest son’s doing, which made her smile. 

She knew Hyungki was doing everything in his power to make this whole thing easier for Yoongi but she also knew it wasn’t really helping. Yoongi was hiding his sadness well, better than she was, but it was still palpable to those who knew him well. The same could be said for Seokjin. They still met for tea as they had before but now it was more subdued. Seokjin rarely asked about Yoongi or how things were going and she didn’t bring it up unless he did. Though it wasn’t her fault, she felt responsible for causing their pain. If she hadn’t pushed them together maybe…

“It’s a good fit, mother,” Yoongi said as he re-entered the room, interrupting her thoughts. He was still adjusting some of the ties and his hair was loose around his shoulders, but he was right, it was a good fit, both in colour and size.

Sooyoung stood up and closed the remaining distance, her hands smoothing over the fabric and straightening some of the ties. Yoongi didn’t move as she did so, just looked down at her with a somewhat indulgent expression. “What?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi murmured, shaking his head.

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” Sooyoung muttered before sighing. “Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll do your hair.”

Yoongi blinked in surprise. “You will?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Yoongi agreed even as he stared at her like he was trying to understand something. Sooyoung merely raised a brow and pointed to the vanity, making Yoongi lift his hands. “I’m going.”

“And to think I’d thought you’d outgrown arguing with me,” Sooyoung sighed out dramatically as she came to stand just behind Yoongi. She was still shaking her head as she grabbed a comb and started brushing his hair. She never had asked Seokjin if she’d figured out the real reason Yoongi’s hair was blonde. She supposed now she’d never know. There was no way she was going to ask. “A mother’s job is so difficult.”

Yoongi snorted, his eyes shifting to his mother’s form in the mirror. “I think it’s a son’s job to keep you on your toes.”

“Shoulda had daughters then,” Sooyoung quipped, her smile widening when Yoongi laughed. She didn’t think she’d heard him laugh since that day on the palace steps when he’d returned with Seokjin. Gods, what she’d give to go back there and see that happy look on her son’s face again.

“There’s still time.”

Sooyoung smacked him with the comb. “I’ll stick to spoiling grandchildren, thank you.”

“Of course,” Yoongi said with a hum, his smile dimming a bit. 

Clearing her throat, Sooyoung ignored the tightness that reply caused in her chest and proceeded to comb Yoongi’s hair into place, wrapping it around itself until it was in a neat bun. When she was done, she took a small pouch off her belt and opened it, pulling out the matching hairpiece she’d had made. She held it in front of Yoongi so he could see it clearly. “To complete the outfit.”

“Oh, wow,” Yoongi whispered, taking the hair ornament and spinning it in his hand. It was largely gold, delicate strands warped together around dark blue jewels of some kind. He wasn’t sure what they were but the way they sucked in the light rather than reflecting it held his attention. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Taking it back, Sooyoung wrapped it around his bun and slid the golden pin in place, securing it there. For a moment, she just stood there, staring at Yoongi’s vague image in the mirror, then she put her hands on his shoulders and let her forehead fall onto the top of Yoongi’s head. “I’m so sorry, Yoongi. I tried so hard but I— I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”

“Forgive you?” Yoongi repeated, reaching up to cover his mother’s hands with his own. “There’s nothing to forgive, mom.”

“I promised myself, and you, that this would never happen,” Sooyoung continued, his voice raw both at Yoongi’s words and his informal use of ‘mom.’ “But I couldn’t stop it. And Seokjin…”

“Mother…”

“I pushed it. I saw that you liked him and I pushed it and now… I’m so sorry, Yoongi,” Sooyoung repeated.

Yoongi closed his eyes and took a breath before replying. “I’m not.”

“What?” Sooyoung managed, only then lifting her head.

Slowly, Yoongi turned on the bench so he could look up at his mother. He kept her hands in his and squeezed them comfortingly. He knew his eyes were glassy from unshed tears but he forced them down so he could explain. “I’m not sorry. It hurts a lot right now, more than… more than I ever really thought possible but I’d never want to give up the happiness we had together to avoid how I’m feeling now. So, I’m not sorry. In fact, I’m thankful. You pushed him toward me and for a moment, I was really, really happy. I don’t regret that.”

Sooyoung sniffed and lunged forward, wrapping her son up in a tight hug. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d just held either of her sons. So much status and duty and politics prevented that and she regretted that now. But she shook those feelings away and squeezed. “You’re an amazing person, Yoongi. I am so proud to be your mother.”

“Just as I’m proud to be your son.”

“Yoongi, I—”

“Your Highness, they’ve arrived.”

It was impossible to miss the way Yoongi stiffened in her hold. His posture relaxed a moment later but she’d felt it and she knew. But, like everything else that was happening now, there was nothing she could do to make that better so she squeezed him one last time and pulled back. Before she stepped away, she kissed him on the forehead like she had when he was young and would crawl into her lap because he liked to watch her do embroidery. The memory made her want to cry but she pushed that feeling down too and straightened. “No matter what happens today, I’m there, okay? If you need a moment to breathe, a break, or anything, you let me know and I’ll make it happen.”

Yoongi smiled up at her, the expression honest if a bit subdued. “Thank you, mother.”

Sooyoung scanned his face one last time then nodded, holding out her arm for Yoongi to take. “Now, let’s go greet the Lees.”

♔♔♔

For someone who claimed to not like ostentatious displays, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel like King Lee and his entourage were taking an awfully long time to actually arrive and greet them. They’d been alerted to their arrival when they entered the city with the guards who’d been sent to greet them at the border so, in theory, they should have taken no more than fifteen minutes to arrive at the palace. 

It had been double that.

Yoongi shifted in irritation, his eyes flicking to his brother and father, both of whom looked just as annoyed as he felt. He knew, in theory, that this was just King Lee making a point, reminding them that he was just as much a king, a ruler, as his father was, but it was still irritating. He was here to make an alliance, not declare war. None of this was necessary.

When the carriages finally appeared at the bottom of the palace stairs, a noticeable wave went through all those waiting. Everyone had been standing there for at least a half-hour, if not more, and they were tired. Thankfully, the council was on their best behaviour and had kept quiet. At least for now. Even General Park hadn’t said anything, though Yoongi was inclined to believe that had something to do with Jimin standing next to him.

“Announcing King Lee Donghyun, Crown Prince Lee Dongha, and Princess Lee Heejin.”

Yoongi, admittedly, hadn’t thought about King Lee much, if at all, but as the man stepped out of the carriage he realized the image in his mind had been very different. He appeared to be nearly thirty years older than he’d expected given the age of his eldest son. Yoongi wasn’t sure exactly how old he was but he looked like he could be his grandfather, not father. Yoongi shot a look to his brother, who, though he was covering it well, looked just as surprised. 

He had a moment of panic, wondering if Princess Lee was Dongha’s older sister and not younger sister as he’d assumed. He couldn’t remember if that had ever been confirmed now that he was thinking about it. Was he about to marry someone his mother’s age? Yoongi swallowed, shifting anxiously as Dongha exited the carriage next. He met Yoongi’s eyes instantly and smiled, the expression more honest than Yoongi was expecting. He couldn’t help but match the expression, completely missing the way General Park’s eyes narrowed and darted between them.

Then, Dongha turned and lifted his hand toward the carriage. A small, pale hand took it and then the princess stepped out of the carriage. Her expression was impassive but Yoongi didn’t miss the way her eyes swept over everyone very quickly and then suddenly halted on him. Clearly, Dongha had given her a basic description of what he looked like. Or she was staring at his blonde hair. He was surprised to find that he hadn’t assumed that right away. Spending so much time with Seokjin had made his hair feel… well, normal.

Yoongi kept his eyes on the princess as the Lees moved up the stairs. She was younger than he’d expected—though not his mother’s age as he’d briefly worried. If he had to guess, he’d say mid-twenties at most. That in and of itself was surprising. A woman of her position usually married nearly a decade younger than that. Which made Yoongi realize he hadn’t even considered how young she could be until that very moment. He was suddenly very thankful she wasn’t a literal child because he’d have flat out refused if she were. Not even a potential war could make him do that.

“King Lee, welcome to our country. This is my eldest son, Crown Prince Min Hyungki, and my youngest, Second Prince Min Yoongi.”

King Lee scanned them quickly and then bowed slightly. When he straightened, he looked Yoongi up and down again. “You are not what I expected.”

Yoongi blinked, his eyes darting to Dongha despite himself. What was he even supposed to say to that? Dongha’s lips tightened but he didn’t say anything, not that Yoongi had thought he would. Before Yoongi could come up with something to say, his father raised a brow. “What were you expecting?”

“My son spoke of someone who stepped into the path of danger and effectively interrogated a prisoner, this boy doesn’t seem the type,” King Lee said in way of explanation. Yoongi felt his eyes twitch in irritation. He’d heard that same thing from General Park too. What was it with these men? “But I suppose blonde hair is a fairly effective identifier. Can’t fix that, huh?”

“A witch’s blessing cannot be fixed, Your Highness. It is a rare gift, as I’m sure you know, and shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

Feeling like he was going to throw up, Yoongi slowly turned to the left, seeing Seokjin standing there with an impassive if slightly irritated expression on his face. He was staring directly at the king as if challenging him to correct him in any way. Yoongi wanted to run to him but he kept his feet firmly planted on the ground.

“You must be the witch,” King Lee said, glancing at his son, who nodded. “I rather dislike the audacity of witches.”

Yoongi looked at Dongha again, raising a brow. Dongha shook his head in response. So the king didn’t know that they were aware the queen was a witch. Interesting. Yoongi hadn’t expected Dongha to keep that from his father and he couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Why don’t we move inside? I have refreshments set up. I’m sure you’d like to rest after your long journey,” Byungho suggested in an attempt to diffuse the situation. He hadn’t asked the witch to come, mostly because he wasn’t heartless, but it seemed the wedding committee had done so for him. It made sense politically given that King Lee had asked Seokjin to pick the wedding day but it wasn't necessary and, again, Byungho wasn’t heartless.

Dongha stepped forward and bowed. “Thank you.”

With a small nod, Byungho turned to lead them toward the room where he’d arranged for drinks and snacks. King Lee followed directly behind, Hyungki and Dongha taking their place just behind him. Once they’d done so, Yoongi finally looked at the princess again and held out his hand, gesturing after them. “After you, Princess.”

That seemed to startle her, but she inclined her head and started walking. Yoongi fell into step beside her. He tried to stop himself, but his eyes slid to Seokjin regardless. Seokjin met his gaze levelly, no hint of what he was thinking on his face. Yoongi couldn’t see or feel the fluctuation of power that he had before but for some reason, he was sure it was still there. His own magic had calmed a bit but it still rattled like a wild bird stuck in a cage so he was positive Seokjin’s was the same.

Yoongi shook himself mentally and looked away, refusing to acknowledge the ribbon tied around Seokjin’s wrist. He couldn’t be thinking of Seokjin when he was meeting his future wife for the first time. “How was your trip here?”

For a moment, the princess didn’t answer and then she turned to him, her eyes wide and questioning. “Are you talking to me?”

“I— yes?” Yoongi answered, confused. “Am I… not supposed to?”

“No one does,” the princess said matter-of-factly.

“Well, I am,” Yoongi settled on. He wasn’t sure how to reply otherwise.

The princess blinked at him a few more times then refocused on the path ahead of her. “It was fine. Not as long as I’d thought it would be. Thankfully, I was able to bring my attendant to keep me company.”

Yoongi glanced back at the woman he’d noticed following the princess like a shadow. He personally hated having attendants with him all the time but he could understand wanting someone close that could be trusted, especially if no one else was talking to her. “It’s good to have company. I find it’s hard to find the right people in places like this.”

Something about that comment made the princess pause again, her eyes flicking to him and away. Wherever she was thinking seemed to make her pensive but Yoongi wasn’t sure he could ask. Or that he should. He’d probably said too much already.

“Yoongi, Princess Heejin, come take a seat,” Hyungki called, interrupting their awkward silence.

Yoongi once again paused to allow Heejin to move ahead of him and take a seat next to her brother. Yoongi sat on the other side in between him and Hyungki, who raised a brow at him in question. Yoongi shrugged briefly.

No one spoke as the servants moved into the room and began setting out drinks and snacks for each of them. It was a normal enough spread of food until a servant placed a tangerine on the corner of his table. Yoongi lit up without meaning to, his whole face brightening and lips smiling. Hyungki noticed and smiled too, placing his own tangerine on Yoongi’s table without comment. Yoongi’s hands twitched to start eating it but no one had begun yet so he held himself back. 

“The food is mostly some local delicacies,” Byungho explained, then glanced at Yoongi. “Plus tangerines as they are Prince Yoongi’s favourite.”

King Lee nodded politely. “It looks delicious. Thank you.”

Byungho took the compliment easily—though Yoongi was surprised the man knew how to say something so polite—and began to eat. Everyone followed suit easily, the room quiet and a little tense. Yoongi snatched up the tangerine, ignoring the rest of the dishes and immediately started peeling it. He wasn’t really aware of how pleased he looked until Dongha said, “They really are your favourite.”

Yoongi paused, a slice held to his lips. “Yes.”

“Perhaps we should have offered those as a gift instead,” Dongha murmured, smiling slightly. “You’re easily pleased for a prince.”

“I suppose,” Yoongi agreed, finishing off the tangerine quickly and reaching for the one his brother had given him without thought. “I don’t get to have them often.”

“No, we don’t either,” Dongha agreed. “Heejin is quite fond of them as well actually.”

“Are you?” Yoongi asked, leaning forward slightly so he could see the princess. “Are these ones as good as the ones you’ve had previously?”

Heejin hesitated, her eyes flicking to Dongha and then back to Yoongi. “They’re sweeter. It’s a nice change.”

Yoongi smiled despite himself. “That’s a no then.”

Dongha snorted, then cleared his throat. “Indeed it is.”

Rolling his eyes, Hyungki shook his head at his brother’s expression. “I’m not asking father to request tangerines, Yoongi.”

“I never said you should,” Yoongi muttered quietly, though, admittedly, he had been thinking it.

“Uh-huh,” Hyungki returned, a small smile playing on his lips. His eyes met Dongha’s above Yoongi’s head and, though they didn’t know each other, they had a moment of older sibling commiseration that made their opinion of each other rise exponentially. Hyungki, like Dongha previously, had worried about their future relationship when they both took their respective thrones, but everything he’d seen so far told him they’d get along better than their fathers did, regardless of an alliance.

“So, Yoongi, I’m glad to see your shoulder has healed. I was worried about that,” Dongha admitted, turning slightly so he could look at Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Ah, yes, Seokjin healed it after you left,” Yoongi explained, ignoring the way Hyungki raised a brow at the informality in Dongha’s address. He’d mentioned they’d started using first names but apparently, Hyungki was still surprised by this fact. “No lingering pain or anything.”

Dongha smiled briefly then turned toward his sister dramatically. “You should have seen it! He just threw me to the ground. Talk about embarrassing. I’m at least a head taller than he is!”

Heejin pursed her lips, a small laugh escaping before she could stop herself. “You told me.”

“Yes, well, I figured having met him now you more fully understand my embarrassment,” Dongha continued, his eyes wide and earnest. Yoongi didn’t take his comment personally, mostly because when he spoke, Heejin’s expression turned more animated, more alive, for the first time since they’d arrived. It was clear Dongha was trying to make his sister more comfortable and Yoongi’s pride could take a few hits for that.

“It’s because you’re bigger than me that it worked,” Yoongi told him honestly, scrunching his nose at Heejin as he explained. “I used his body weight to move myself into place.”

Heejin’s eyebrows raised. “A good idea.”

“I had a great teacher who had more than one… smaller man in his class,” Yoongi confessed with a shrug. “Gotta make what you have work for you.”

Dongha tilted his head for a moment then nodded. “I suppose so. Like the silence trick.”

Yoongi paused, surprised that Dongha would bring up the interrogation here, but nodded anyway. “I generally don’t talk a lot so I don’t get uncomfortable in long silences. It’s a pretty effective technique for making people uncomfortable.”

From behind him, Hyungki snorted somewhat rudely. “It always amuses me that people think you’re quiet.”

“I am quiet,” Yoongi rebutted.

“Yea, sure, with people you don’t know or like. Other than that…” Hyungki trailed off meaningfully.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yoongi muttered.

“Sure,” Hyungki agreed with a small laugh, shaking his head.

From across the room, Byungho watched the interaction closely just as King Lee was. “They seem to be getting along well.”

“Yes. Dongha was quite impressed with your youngest son. He was very insistent about this marriage though I don’t know why. My wife agreed as well, so, considering how old the girl is, it only made sense.”

Byungho held back his distaste at the way King Lee referred to his daughter. He may not like that his son would have to marry despite his preferences or desires but he was suddenly glad the poor girl wouldn’t be in her father’s house anymore. Something about the way he spoke and the way she held herself told him it hadn’t been pleasant. Though, based on what he’d seen of Crown Prince Dongha, he was willing to bet he didn’t share his father’s prejudices.

“Hopefully that can mean longstanding peace between our—”

“Your Highness!”

Startled, everyone in the room turned to the door, seeing a frantic-looking man at the entrance, his breathing heavy. Byungho rose immediately, followed quickly by Hyungki and Yoongi. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“The princess— she— the baby!”

Hyungki’s eyes widened. “What?”

“She just went into labour!” The servant explained, straightening. “The doctors have been called and are on their way.”

“Father—”

“Go,” Byungho ordered, waving his hand with a hasty snap. “Soo—”

“I’m going,” Sooyoung interrupted, already moving to her son’s side. “Let’s go.”

Yoongi looked between them and Dongha, clearly wanting to go as well. He shifted toward his brother and then, catching his father’s look, moved away. Instead, he reached out and squeezed his brother’s arm. “Tell noona I’m thinking of her. I’ll visit later when I can.”

“I will,” Hyungki promised before he took off with his mother, not even bothering to bow or acknowledge the Lees at all.

King Lee raised a brow and looked at Byungho as they all returned to their seats. “His first son?”

Byungho shook his head. “First child, yes. We’re told it’s a girl.”

“Ah,” King Lee said, waving his hand away. “Then why bother leaving? It’s of no importance.”

Yoongi stiffened. “A royal Min child matters regardless of their sex.”

“Thankfully you have another son for an heir,” King Lee continued as if Yoongi hadn’t spoken. “It was quite a worry for us until Dongha had a son.”

Beside Yoongi, Dongha sighed a little. Yoongi turned to him. “You have daughters, I’m assuming?”

“Two,” Dongha whispered, keeping his voice pitched low lest his father hear. “Twins. They’re amazing. My son is younger.”

“Congratulations,” Yoongi said, meaning it. “Will your daughters inherit?”

Dongha’s lips kicked up in the corner. “Perhaps.”

Yoongi took that as the non-answer that it was. He assumed Dongha had a similar issue of succession as they did, only his father clearly supported the male-only line of succession which would make it harder if not impossible.

Shifting in his seat, Yoongi found himself staring at the door again, wondering when he’d be able to leave and check on Taeso. He knew they likely didn’t want him there for the birth—nor did he want to be there—but not knowing what was going on made him antsy. Seokjin had said the baby was going to be fine but he was still worried. 

“You’re worried about the princess?” Heejin asked, her tone light but curious.

“Of course. She’s my sister,” Yoongi replied immediately.

“Do you view all the crown prince’s concubines as such?”

Yoongi blinked, his brows furrowing. “Neither my father nor brother have concubines. There is only my mother, the queen, and my sister-in-law, the crown princess.”

“Really?” Dongha asked, surprised.

“It’s not an uncommon practice here but,” Yoongi hesitated, his eyes darting to his father then back to Dongha, “my father and uncle, who was the product of such an arrangement, fought for the crown so my father has fairly… negative views of the practice.”

“Interesting,” Dongha murmured, his expression settling into something that Yoongi could only describe as pleased. It made him clear his throat awkwardly, knowing that Dongha was clearly realizing that, when Yoongi and Heejin married, there would be no one else in Yoongi’s life.

“Will the crown prince’s daughter inherit?” Heejin asked suddenly, her eyes sharp.

Something about her look threw Yoongi off. It was the most intense he’d seen her be since she’d arrived. It made him wonder if there was a sharp mind under all that forced demureness her father clearly favoured. “We’re trying to make it so.”

“Interesting,” Heejin said in much the same tone her brother had. 

Yoongi couldn’t stop himself from looking between the siblings and feeling utterly lost. He had no idea what they were thinking. The only thing he did know was that, for the first time since he’d found out about this arrangement, he wasn’t sad. He hadn’t even realized he’d relaxed until that moment, but he had. It gave him hope that, maybe one day, he’d be able to spend an entire day without hurting himself by wishing for Seokjin to be with him. If he could manage that, perhaps they could really be friends and he’d be able to spend time with him again, get to just enjoy his company as he had before. Though that wasn’t what he truly wanted, Yoongi figured, as he smiled at Heejin when she offered him the remaining half of her tangerine, that wasn’t a completely terrible trade-off.

♔♔♔

“Yoongi?”

“Yoongi?”

“Yoongi?”

Jolting, Yoongi turned towards his father, an apology on his lips as he registered all the eyes on him. He hadn’t meant to space out but they’d been in this room for over an hour since Hyungki had left and no one had come to give an update. Admittedly, he didn’t really know how long birth usually took so it was possible he was just being impatient but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Sorry, Your Highness.”

Byungho raised a brow. “I’m aware you’re concerned about the crown princess but perhaps it would be best if you gave Princess Heejin a tour of the palace while we drafted the terms of the alliance.”

And marriage.

Yoongi nodded and stood up. “Of course. Princess?”

Heejin looked to her father, who nodded, before she stood up as well. She didn’t speak or even agree, but she did follow Yoongi out, her ever-present attendant trailing behind. Yoongi led her to the front of the palace where they’d first arrived and stopped, turning so they were facing the palace. “You’ve been here before, of course, but this is the main courtyard.”

“It’s lovely,” Heejin said quietly, her eyes sweeping the area. There were trees and flowers around the edges, offering shade and colour to the area. Her father didn’t care much for such things so they tended not to be integrated into any of their courtyards.

“Yes, our head gardener, Park Jimin, handles it all. He was here earlier, with his father.”

“The gardener came to greet royalty?” Heejin asked in surprise, momentarily forgetting that she was supposed to maintain her more demure facade.

“His father is our top general,” Yoongi explained, smiling slightly at the surprise on her face and the honesty in her voice. He’d suspected she wasn’t as quiet as she seemed. “He was here in his capacity as his oldest son.”

“Interesting,” Heejin murmured in much the same tone she had before. 

Yoongi was starting to realize that tone meant ‘things are different here.’ He wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing but it’s not like he was going to change things for her regardless, so he didn’t ask. “Your rooms and those of your father and brother are in the west alongside my parents and brother. We can head there next.”

“Are yours not there as well?”

“No,” Yoongi answered, already walking towards the west side of the palace. “I have rooms on the east side.”

“Why?” Heejin wondered.

Yoongi shrugged. “I prefer the feel of that side.”

Heejin hummed, considering that reply for a moment before admitting, “You sound like my mother.”

He couldn’t stop his head from whipping around to look at Heejin as she spoke. She wasn’t even looking at him as she said it but it threw Yoongi off regardless. He wondered if he was just supposed to pretend that she wasn’t acting differently from before. After a minute’s hesitation, Yoongi decided he didn’t want to play that game. “You aren’t as quiet as you were before.”

That made Heejin raise a brow. “Would you prefer I was?”

“No,” Yoongi replied honestly, still watching her with narrowed eyes.

“Oppa said as much,” Heejin confessed, clearing her throat as he looked at Yoongi and then away. “There are… rules about the way women behave back home. Those don’t seem to apply the same way here.”

Yoongi shook his head. “You give us too much credit. It is simply that my father loves my mother and allows her free reign to do as she pleases. Hyung does the same. That freedom doesn’t extend to everyone, I’m afraid.”

Heejin paused for a moment, scanning Yoongi’s face, then nodded. “It’s more than I currently have.”

“Then,” Yoongi hesitated, “then I hope, in the future, you can be happy here.”

“Happiness is relative,” Heejin answered honestly, “but I think I could be.”

Yoongi forced himself to smile. “I’m glad.”

Heejin’s eyes didn’t leave his face. She was trying her best to get a read on Yoongi but she wasn’t sure if her conclusions were correct. But there was one way to check: “I do… have a request.”

“If I can grant it, I will. I’m aware this isn’t an ideal situation.”

“I wish to keep my attendant with me. I know there are women trained to be the attendants of royal heirs but she has been with me since we were both children and I—”

“I would be upset if you didn’t keep her,” Yoongi interrupted, not wanting to hear Heejin try and justify why she’d want someone she was close to and familiar with her in her new home. “I meant what I said before about it being good to have company you can trust. Though we don’t have time now, her accommodations can be made anywhere of your choosing within the eastern courtyards. Most of that land is set aside for me anyway.”

Heejin smiled, the expression far brighter than any she’d made so far, even with her brother. Instantly, she looked at her attendant, who smiled too before ducking her head. Yoongi watched the exchange and smiled slightly. “You don’t have to pretend to be more formal than you usually are. I don’t care for such things.”

The servant lifted her head, her eyes shifting to Heejin and then back to Yoongi. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“What’s your name?” Yoongi asked.

“Ahn Chaewon.”

“Then I hope you can be happy here as well, Ahn Chaewon,” Yoongi said simply. Chaewon didn’t respond other than to bow but Yoongi hadn’t really expected her to. So instead he turned back to Heejin, who was still smiling at her attendant, and asked, “Did you want to see the eastern courts instead then?”

“That would be lovely,” Heejin agreed, smiling at him too.

Yoongi inclined his head and changed directions, leading her toward the path Jimin had finished replanting with the scentless flowers for Jungkook. It was a nice walk so he let silence fall and just enjoyed the view. Chaewon was walking closer to them now but Yoongi didn’t mind that. It honestly made him feel better that he could do something to make Heejin feel more comfortable about this whole arrangement. As unhappy as he was about it, she wasn’t at fault and he’d do his best to make sure she was comfortable here.

It upset him a bit to see how much of her personality she’d been hiding upon her arrival. Now, she reminded him a bit of his mother in the way she carried herself and asked questions. He couldn’t help but grimace as he remembered Dongha explaining that his own mother wasn’t taken seriously because his father was too old-fashioned. He hadn’t really considered how that would affect a daughter but it was clear she was used to hiding things. If nothing else, Yoongi hoped he could offer her a home where she didn’t feel the need to do that. Even if he couldn’t give her love, he could give her freedom to be herself.

The first way he was going to do that was to show her that friendship was normal and encouraged. If, perhaps, he came to that conclusion because he spotted poor Jungkook standing at the entrance to the eastern courtyards as he often did, no one had to know.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi greeted casually, smiling when the younger man straightened and smiled back. His eyes darted to his partner but the man only sighed and walked away. Yoongi wasn’t fond of him but he knew better than to argue or criticize Yoongi.

“Hy— Your Highness,” Jungkook replied, his eyes widening as he took in the two women now standing just behind him.

“This is Princess Lee Heejin and her attendant Ahn Chaewon,” Yoongi introduced.

Jungkook’s eyes landed on Heejin and immediately dimmed, making her raise a brow almost imperceptibly. “Oh.”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi murmured, shifting closer. Jungkook really did need to work on concealing his emotions. He was far too honest. “She is the daughter of King Lee.”

“Your Highness,” Jungkook finally greeted, bowing deeply and appropriately. Heejin inclined her head respectfully but she couldn’t stop herself from staring at his face, trying to understand why he’d looked so disappointed when he realized who she was. Jungkook turned to her attendant and bowed too. “Miss.”

Chaewon blinked in surprise and hastily returned the bow. “Um, your name? Jungkook…”

“Jeon Jungkook,” Jungkook supplied, realizing Yoongi hadn’t used his full name.

“His father was the head of our palace guard for many years. I’ve known him since he was toddling around,” Yoongi revealed.

Jungkook frowned, the expression more of a pout than anything. “First of all, I wasn’t that young, and second of all, you’re not that much older than me!”

“It seems like only yesterday…”

“I’m 24, hyung,” Jungkook whined then cleared his throat awkwardly, looking at Heejin and Chaewon like they’d punish him for speaking so casually to a prince.

“Then we’re the same age,” Heejin murmured instead, smiling. “It’ll be nice to have some friends of the same age around the palace.”

“Oh, um, yes,” Jungkook agreed, bowing again. Yoongi shook his head at him but smiled anyway. It’d be good for Jungkook to have more friends and if Heejin made friends here too, that would help the transition.

“Are you on duty all day?” Yoongi asked, drawing his attention back.

“No,” Jungkook denied, shaking his head, “just until Jimin-hyung and Seokjin-hyung finish whatever they’re doing in the garden.”

“The garden?” Yoongi repeated, ignoring the way his heartbeat picked up at the mere mention of Seokjin’s name.

“Yes. Jimin-hyung gave one of the gardens to him and they’re doing some planning and… redirecting? That’s what Seokjin-hyung said anyway.”

“Which one?” Yoongi wondered, tilting his head. “The one in the middle of the courtyard?”

Jungkook shook his head again. “No, the one off to the side? I didn’t even know it was there.”

Yoongi blinked. The garden Jimin had first designed then. He liked that spot, mostly because it was private and quiet, so he understood why Seokjin would have chosen it. “Ah, I see.”

“Jimin-hyung was yelling about something before, I’m sure he’d like some company,” Jungkook prodded, his eyes darting to the princess and away. He was aware he was suggesting something mean but he just really liked how happy Yoongi looked when he was with Seokjin.

“Aren’t you supposed to help if you hear yelling?” Chaewon asked before she stiffened and stepped back.

Jungkook ignored her immediate regret and laughed. “Sure but Jimin-hyung yells for all sorts of reasons. This time I think it had to do with Seokjin-hyung making him do physical labour? Nothing important.”

“We’ll go check on them,” Yoongi decided, mentally cursing his own weakness. He was supposed to be giving a tour, supposed to be making the princess feel more comfortable, and instead, he was going to bring her to a garden that was under construction because he was weak and wanted to see Seokjin again. “If that’s okay with you, princess?”

“I’d like to meet the witch,” Heejin replied honestly. 

“Then you shall,” Yoongi agreed, forcing himself not to run in that direction. Instead, he slipped past Jungkook with a small pat on his arm and headed in the direction of the garden. He was sure they’d have been able to find it without him since, the second they got within distance, the yelling Jungkook had warned them about was clear as day. 

“I said that I’d supervise! Do you not understand that word? Do you need a definition? It means I’m not supposed to do—”

“Oh shush. You’re a gardener so garden.”

“I’m the head gardener, thank you very much! I design, I don’t— hyung! Tell him I don’t dig holes!” Jimin demanded, rounding on Yoongi the second he stepped around the corner. A few moments later, Heejin and Chaewon came into view and Jimin stiffened and bowed. “My apologies, Your Highness.”

Heejin laughed, the sound bright and pleased. “Oh, wow. Are you sure you’re a prince?”

Yoongi smiled briefly. “Sometimes I wonder.”

Jimin’s eyes flicked between them before they landed on Chaewon. “And who are you?”

“Ahn Chaewon,” Chaewon said again, surprise clear on her face. It was obvious most people didn’t bother to ask her who she was. Yoongi understood that. He wasn’t certain he knew all the names of the staff at the palace but he did know the names of those who worked closest to him and those who’d been there the longest. He slotted Chaewon firmly into that category, even if she didn’t work for them yet.

“Park Jimin,” Jimin returned, then gestured to Seokjin, “and Court Witch Kim Seokjin. Slave driver.”

Seokjin sighed dramatically, bowing as Heejin and Chaewon did, his eyes never leaving Yoongi’s. “I merely asked you to dig up a few flowers so I could plant different ones. You were standing there anyway.”

“That’s my job,” Jimin returned, the sleeves of his robes snapping as he protested.

Despite everything he’d told himself, Yoongi moved closer, coming to stand just outside the boundaries of the small garden. “I’m surprised you chose this place.”

“There’s a lot of energy here,” Seokjin explained, then, gesturing to the stone seat they hadn’t moved yet, added: “Particularly here.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

“You didn’t know?” Seokjin wondered, stepping to the edge of the garden.

Shifting, Yoongi’s toes grazed the line between the stone and the soil, but he didn’t step closer. “No. It’s just private here so I like it.”

Seokjin hummed. “It is that.”

Feeling like he was intruding on a private moment, Jimin left the garden and went to where Heejin and Chaewon were still standing. They’d come closer as Yoongi had but remained a few feet back. Jimin smiled at them. “Were you getting a tour?”

“We were,” Heejin confirmed. “Prince Yoongi tells me you planted all the greenery?”

“Well, I planned all the greenery,” Jimin corrected, smiling again. “I don’t do the labour part anymore. Perks of getting promoted.”

Heejin returned his smile, her eyes sliding to where Yoongi and Seokjin were still talking. They were standing closer together now, but neither had crossed the boundary line of the garden. It was like there was an invisible wall there neither of them could or would cross. She found herself tilting her head slightly, watching their interactions. Every so often, Seokjin’s hand would lift and then fall away without doing anything or Yoongi’s upper body would sway closer than pull away. It was fascinating to watch.

“Princess?” Jimin called, stepping between Heejin so she could no longer see Yoongi and Seokjin. “What did you think of my work? The pathway here is my newest addition!”

She was not stupid enough to miss that deliberate move but she didn’t comment on it. “It was beautiful. I was surprised the smell wasn’t stronger.”

“Ah, that’s the point! One of our younger guards is quite sensitive to smell and since he works the eastern courtyards, I’ve started using flowers that don’t give him headaches.”

Heejin raised a brow. “The young man at the gate now? Jeon Jungkook?”

“The very same,” Jimin confirmed with a bright smile.

“Interesting,” Heejin murmured, her gaze once again sweeping the area. It was odd to think that she’d live here soon, that this would be her home, but she couldn’t help but think it might be okay. Her brother had promised her it would be, that he wouldn’t have insisted if he didn’t think it would be a good match, but she’d been worried regardless. She just needed to confirm one last thing first. “Prince Yoongi? Would it be possible for you to show me my rooms after all? I’m quite tired.”

Yoongi’s head snapped up seconds before he took several steps away from Seokjin, already berating himself for letting himself drift so close again. He slapped an impassive and hopefully attentive expression on his face and nodded. “Of course.”

Heejin bowed to them before letting Yoongi lead her away as he’d been doing the entire time. She glanced back at Chaewon and lifted her chin, silently directing her to fall as far back as possible. Once she’d done that, Heejin matched pace with Yoongi and cleared her throat. Yoongi glanced at her in question, his eyes automatically searching for Chaewon and finding her a noticeable distance away. “Is something the matter?”

“Not the matter, no. I simply had a question that I wanted to ask you privately,” Heejin explained.

“Okay. Ask away.”

“Are you sleeping with the court witch?” Heejin asked bluntly, watching as Yoongi stumbled, his expression flashing between panicked and resigned before all emotion disappeared.

“No.”

Heejin raised a brow. “Were you sleeping with the court witch?”

Yoongi stopped walking, his posture tense as he stared hard at Heejin’s face, trying to understand what she was trying to do. After a moment, he sighed. “Yes. We’re not anymore. Not since— we agreed to stop given this arrangement.”

“I see,” Heejin murmured, turning away. Her gaze swept the courtyard again. They were in front of more private rooms and she, for some reason, was sure they were Yoongi’s, but she didn’t ask. Instead, she met his eyes again, the image of Yoongi and Seokjin leaning toward each other fresh in her mind. “You love him?”

“Yes,” Yoongi whispered, his shoulders curving in.

“Okay,” Heejin said with a nod before she started walking again, making her way down the path they’d taken to get here.

“Okay?” Yoongi repeated, frozen in place.

Heejin turned back to him. “Yes, okay.”

Yoongi wasn’t sure what that meant but he couldn’t let this conversation end here. “I meant it when I said we aren’t together anymore. I’ll be a good husband. I promise.”

“I don’t know you,” Heejin began, hesitating only a moment before continuing, “but I can already tell you are someone who takes family very seriously, Prince Yoongi. I have no doubt you will do everything in your power to be a good husband, just as you said.”

“Okay,” Yoongi managed, unsure how to respond to that. “Thank you.”

“I think, given the circumstances, I should be thanking you,” Heejin said honestly. “And don’t worry, I don’t expect you to love me. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. That’s not what I’m looking for or even what I want from this arrangement. I’d settle for good friends.”

Yoongi found himself smiling. “I’d like that very much.”

“Then I think we’ll be just fine,” Heejin responded, her expression softening. “But I wasn’t lying about being tired.”

Jolting, Yoongi raced forward, feeling stupid that he’d forgotten the reason they were leaving the eastern courtyard. “Right, sorry. Your rooms. This way. Follow me.”

Chapter Text

The second Yoongi bowed and left Heejin alone in her room, she took a deep breath and let herself relax fully for the first time since she’d stepped into the carriage with her brother and father that morning. Spending time talking to Yoongi had been nice, even if this wasn’t the situation she wanted to find herself in. He appeared to be a good man, just as her brother had said, and she found she did like him. He seemed genuine and obviously cared about the people around him. He didn’t seem to have a hang-up about status or proper behaviour and he’d shown that he wanted to make her as comfortable and happy as possible. All things considered, those were good traits in a future husband.

“Is my brother back yet?”

“I’ll check,” Chaewon replied, immediately leaving the rooms Yoongi had left them in and going toward the building he’d indicated was for her father and brother. A few minutes later, she returned and nodded. “He’s in his rooms. The king is still in the meeting.”

“Perfect,” Heejin sighed out, already sweeping out of the rooms and practically running across the courtyard to where her brother was. She didn’t bother knocking, knowing he’d expect her after Chaewon had gone looking for him, and opened the door with little regard to how it would look to anyone seeing her. “Oppa!”

Dongha, who’d already been waiting by the door for her, grabbed her waist. “YAH!”

Heejin screamed and jumped away, whining the second she saw who it was. “Why are you always doing that?”

“Because you always scream,” Dongha replied with a snort before he went to the seating area the servants had set up. “You should work on that.”

“Or maybe you should stop scaring me,” Heejin muttered. Dongha merely shrugged in what Heejin could only describe as ‘older brother disregard’ and proceeded to pour tea for them both. Heejin dropped down across from him with a sigh and took the offered cup. “So, how’d the meeting go?”

“Fine. King Min isn’t asking for much of anything at all really,” Dongha revealed. “It’s clear he’d rather we just signed a peace treaty without any trades but you know how father is.”

“Nothing for free,” Heejin sighed out.

Dongha hummed, his expression softening as he scanned his sister’s face. “How was Yoongi? He’s good, right?”

“He is,” Heejin agreed, patting her brother’s hand in comfort. “He agreed to let Chaewon come with me and even offered to have rooms built for her in his section of the palace.”

“I told you it’d be okay!” Dongha said, smiling.

Heejin shook her head at his tone. “Yes, yes, you’re always right. I was surprised with… well, his behaviour, I suppose.”

Dongha raised a brow, watching her over the rim of his cup. “Behaviour?”

“Yes. We met some of his staff along the way and he was… very casual with them. They even called him ‘hyung.’ It was quite unusual.”

“I noticed that before as well. He doesn’t seem to care much for titles. The court witch calls him by his name without any regard to who might hear.” Heejin paused at that, her eyes flicking to her brother. Dongha set his cup down and leaned forward. “Did you find out something, Heejin?”

“Perhaps,” Heejin hedged, laughing when her brother made an aggravated sound. “You’re so whiny. How will you possibly be king?”

“No one will disobey me when I’m king,” Dongha muttered.

Heejin snorted. “I still will. But, he brought me to see the court witch and the head gardener, who, if you can believe it, is the general’s son.”

“General Park? That asshole has a son he allows to work as a gardener?” Dongha asked, more than familiar with the general from the intel his family’s spies had gathered.

“Mhm,” Heejin confirmed, “apparently so. But that’s not the interesting part. The interesting part is that Prince Yoongi and the court witch are together.”

Dongha merely smiled at that. “I was wondering if you’d notice.”

“How could I miss it? They were practically attached to each other the second they were within distance. The entire time the prince had been quite attentive, playing his part well, and then he saw the court witch and poof, he’s gone. It was impressive actually,” Heejin admitted, tilting her head as she replayed the moment in her head. “They’re quite in love.”

“I suspected as much when I met them before. Too much familiarity to be anything but lovers,” Dongha admitted with a shrug.

Heejin hummed, her gaze taking a far-off quality as she thought about it. She couldn’t really imagine being so in love that suddenly propriety didn’t matter but then again, she’d never been in a situation where her every move, every breath, didn’t need to be monitored and curated to her father’s desires. It made her wonder if, living here, she’d be able to have something like that for herself, if she could love like that. Her gaze drifted to the door where Chaewon was waiting outside and smiled, the expression small and a little hopeful. “It’s odd, don’t you think, for two people so similar to meet by chance like this? Do you think mother was aware?”

Dongha leaned forward and nudged his little sister’s arm, his smile soft and more openly hopeful than hers was. “I guess that’s the thing about witches, huh? They always have the best plans.”

♔♔♔

From where he was standing off to the side of the palace steps, General Park watched the Min family closely, his attention flicking between their faces and the arrival of the carriage. Though he agreed the marriage between Yoongi and the princess was a good political move, something about it made him uneasy and had since the moment it had been brought forward to the council. It all felt too… coincidental. Nothing in his life had been easy and this whole experience felt just like that. 

His suspicions had only been heightened by the arrival of an anonymous letter that morning. No matter who he talked to, no one knew who’d sent it, but the contents had distracted him from looking into it further. It had been short and to the point: “Watch the witch or your country will fall.” It was so vague that it could have meant anything, could have been referring to anything, but he promised himself he’d be more vigilant as a response even as he slowly went over everything that had happened recently.

First, a witch had appeared just in time to support Yoongi’s plans and declare him curse-free. Then Yoongi had volunteered to go to the border town with the witch where he’d conveniently been contacted by the Lee royal family. Now that he was back, King Lee wanted to marry his daughter to him and the crown prince had smiled at him. He’d only been able to steal glimpses of the conversations during their meal but even then, Yoongi had looked awfully chummy with the Lee children, especially after Hyungki had left.

All of that had made him suspicious, so he’d sent Jimin away and decided to follow up with his hunch. He trusted Byungho to conduct a fair alliance meeting so he didn’t bother listening in on that. He instead chose to follow Yoongi as he led the princess around. His tour was a haphazard one and he didn’t really actually bring her anywhere, which seemed unusual. That, paired with the casual way they spoke to each other made his suspicion grow, especially when the princess started talking. Her demeanor completely shifted and it was like she was an entirely different person from the one who’d arrived with her father.

He’d had to abandon his surveillance when they’d gone into the eastern courtyard lest Yoongi’s little boy guard recognize him and ask why he was there—he didn’t have reason to go to that side of the palace and he knew that—but that didn’t stop him from going to the rooms the Lees would be in and lying in wait.

The prince arrived back first, his movements slow and his mumbled words slightly irritated. He was complaining about his father under his breath from what General Park could hear. Sometime later a servant came looking for him, quickly followed by the princess. Their interaction was sweet, even for a man who didn’t particularly care if his children got along. He supposed it was nice that the crown prince was looking out for his sister.

He’d almost given up, deciding that they weren’t going to do or say anything to confirm his suspicions, when the princess brought up Yoongi and the court witch. General Park straightened in horror and disgust. He’d known there was something off about Yoongi his entire life but this just confirmed it. On top of that, Yoongi being with the court witch explained why he’d done nothing but support Yoongi from the beginning. All the plans, all the declarations, those were all for Yoongi’s benefit. Every single thing the witch said made Yoongi look better, made his position improve.

“It’s odd, don’t you think, for two people so similar to meet by chance like this? Do you think mother was aware?”

General Park stiffened. Similar people? The queen? What did that have to do with anything? General Park leaned closer to the wall, his ears tuned to the crown prince and princess talking.

“I guess that’s the thing about witches, huh? They always have the best plans.”

A dozen things bombarded General Park at once, all of which made him genuinely fear for the future of his country. The queen, who’d pointedly not come to this meeting, had concocted some plan. That plan had been put into action by a witch. This witch had developed a plan to bring the families together in some way, which apparently was marrying the princess to Yoongi. A marriage that Yoongi had agreed to before the matter had already been brought to the council. A marriage that his apparent good friend Crown Prince Lee had made happen right after meeting with Yoongi and Seokjin. Court Witch Seokjin who’d just appeared at the beginning of this entire mess and attached himself to Yoongi.

General Park stumbled away from the wall, his mind racing. Yoongi had been chosen on purpose because the witch was working for Yoongi, which meant the warning hadn’t been so much about the witch but Yoongi. The Lee family had concocted this entire plan. He’d known it was too coincidental that the camps had randomly popped up right before they demanded a marriage alliance. It was all part of a plan.

He needed to stop this.

Already making a plan of attack, General Park rushed out of the room he’d been hiding away in and made a beeline for where the palace guard was stationed. It was a small contingent, not even large enough to be called a garrison, but it would be enough. It had to be.

“Men! We’re under attack. You five,” General Park ordered, pointing to five men who looked no older than Jimin, “go and take Crown Prince Lee and Princess Lee into custody.”

“What?” One of them managed, his head whipping around to his commanding officer who looked equally shocked.

“I will take you three with me,” the general continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “to secure the king. Crown Prince Hyungki is with his wife and she cannot be disturbed so I need four men to supplement those already guarding him. And you,” General Park said, pointing to the head of the palace guard, “take Court Witch Seokjin into custody as well. The rest will fortify the palace and await further orders.”

The head of the palace guard stepped forward, his expression just as conflicted as it was confused. He’d only just been promoted to captain and he’d never actually seen combat of any kind. “General, sir, why are we taking the visiting royal family and the court witch into custody?”

“Because they’re attempting to start a coup,” General Park said firmly, watching the colour drain from everyone’s faces, “and we’re going to stop them.”

♔♔♔

King Lee was, at the end of the day, a deeply unpleasant man. Byungho had thought this when he’d first met him at his coronation and he thought the same now. He valued little aside from money and power and he used whatever he could to push forward his own agenda. Byungho supposed it made him a good politician but it made him a terrible man and he could not wait for this meeting to be over. As morbid as it was, he was happy the man was old because then at least he’d be able to start dealing with his son, who seemed to be a much more agreeable person. The fact that Yoongi got along with him spoke volumes. 

“We will remove two camps from the area but the one by the mountain pass and the communications hub established in the city where the meeting was held will remain. The city has grown regardless of our tensions and needs to be monitored.”

“If you are not willing to remove all your camps, I will keep mine in place,” King Lee said firmly.

“You have ten camps in the area. We have one and a house for the newly established moksa. Are you saying those are equivalent?” Byungho asked pointedly. “If so, I will set up eight more camps along the border to match.”

King Lee pursed his lips, his eyes dipping to the map. None of the camps were of particular importance. He’d only set them up where he’d been advised more foreigners were seen so he could easily get rid of all of them, but it felt like a loss on his side. “I can remove the ones stationed here, but no more.”

Byungho felt his eyes twitch, seeing that King Lee had pointed to only three of his camps. This had been going better when the crown prince was here as he wasn’t as keen on saving face as his father was. He was mostly sure that’s why he’d been sent away. Byungho was tired of this. His first grandchild was coming into this world and his youngest was losing his freedom and all King Lee cared about was impressions. Enough. “We’ve come to an impasse. Since you aren’t willing to negotiate, I’ll assume that means you no longer wish to form an alliance. Your family can stay the night but we’re done here.”

King Lee blinked. “What?”

“We’re done here,” Byungho repeated, standing up. “You came here, insulted my son and first grandchild, and refused to negotiate a peaceful future. It’s clear all you want is to exert power here and I will not allow that nor will I take a person from your house into mine that you can try and use later.”

“You expect me to just surrender everything without giving me anything,” King Lee snapped, pushing himself up. “Your father wasn’t this stupid.”

“My father is dead and I’m king now. I gave up my son’s future and two camps. How is that nothing? It seems to me that you’re the one who wants to gain without sacrifice here,” Byungho returned with a scoff.

King Lee narrowed his eyes at Byungho. He’d been nothing but disappointed by the man since his coronation. He’d always preferred his brother and had been genuinely disappointed when he lost the war. Quite honestly, for a second, he’d respected King Min for trying to start a war when this had all begun. Then he’d found out that wasn’t his intention and all that evaporated. Meeting him here hadn’t improved his opinion of the man but, seeing his clear willingness to walk away from negotiations, King Lee found himself nodding. It wasn’t like he cared about the camps anyway. “I will remove the camps not at strategic locations.”

“What?” Byungho said before he could stop himself.

“You raised weak sons,” King Lee muttered, unable to stop himself from pointing that out, “but there is logic in your points. These three will remain. They protect the nearby town and a mine. The rest will be dismantled.”

Byungho had a half dozen retorts on his tongue—he had not raised weak sons—but he held them back, reminding himself that this was for the good of the country, that it was to prevent war. It took repeating that more times than he’d like before he nodded and glanced at the court historian. “Draw up the agreement.”

Neither man spoke as the historian wrote quickly, summarizing their discussion and the agreed-upon terms since the camp issue had been the last point of a long discussion. When he was done, he placed the parchment on the table between them and stepped back. Byungho signed his name and stamped the agreement with his seal, waiting for King Lee to do the same. He hesitated longer than Byungho had but after a moment, he signed and added his seal as well. With one final flourish, the historian validated the agreement and stepped back with a bow. “The alliance is now struck. The military encampments will be moved as discussed, these two countries will have lasting peace, and Prince Yoongi and Princess Heejin will marry to solidify that alliance.”

Byungho still felt slightly nauseous hearing the last part but he merely nodded and glanced at King Lee. “Would you like another drink or would you prefer to retire to your rooms?”

Every part of Byungho was desperate for him to just leave but tradition held that he should entertain the man as long as he was there so he offered regardless. King Lee frowned slightly and tapped his finger on his knee. “I would—”

“Your Highness!” 

A very visible part of Byungho twitched in irritation at the sound of General Park’s voice. The most obvious reason being that the man had very quickly lost his favour in recent years and the second being that he’d been interrupted numerous times today. He’d been king long enough that he’d long grown used to talking and everyone in the room listening. Being interrupted even once was a rarity but for it to happen repeatedly was unheard of. Even if he hadn’t been the one speaking, someone bursting in again was unacceptable. “General Park, we are in the middle of a meeting. Announce yourself properly or you’ll be escorted out.”

The general barely even hesitated. He instead moved further into the rooms with guards following him, all carrying swords and dressed for combat. Byungho jumped to his feet, confusion and horror on his face. King Lee looked much the same, his eyes sweeping the men now standing by the door, their faces impassive. “What’s going on here?”

General Park shot him a look and then addressed Byungho. “They are attempting to infiltrate your family. It’s a coup.”

Byungho’s brows furrowed, his attention automatically shifting to King Lee, who looked more irritated than offended at the suggestion. Byungho looked back to General Park. “How do you know?”

“I heard the crown prince and princess discussing it. They formed a plan with the witch to manipulate Prince Yoongi into marriage,” General Park explained, deciding, at the moment, not to accuse Yoongi of anything yet. He knew the king wouldn’t listen if he said anything against his son.

“My children admitted to no such thing!” King Lee snapped. He did not, Byungho couldn’t help but notice, deny anything else.

This was, undoubtedly, a political nightmare. Either King Lee had been attempting a coup and they were going to go to war or General Park was wrong and he’d just offended an entire royal family. Byungho closed his eyes for a moment then opened them, levelling an unimpressed stare on the general. “Bring me the crown prince, princess, and Court Witch Seokjin.”

The guards at the door didn’t wait for General Park to confirm the orders. They just bowed and darted out the door to do as they’d been told. Byungho watched them go, then turned to his attendant who’d been hovering near the wall the entire time. “Bring me Yoongi. He should… be here.”

Like the guards, the attendant bowed and rushed off to bring Yoongi back to the room. Byungho felt his stomach roll over in unease. If what General Park had heard was true, he wasn’t sure Yoongi would be able to handle that. It was clear to him, even without asking, that Yoongi was in love with the witch. Being separated from him would be painful but finding out he’d been lying just to overthrow his family? Byungho didn’t think there was anyone strong enough to hear that and come out unscathed.

“This is ridiculous! How dare you seize my children and treat them like common criminals?!” King Lee raged, his voice shaking like he’d been talking for some time. 

Byungho realized that he’d likely missed King Lee talking while he contemplated the possible outcomes, a habit his youngest son had inherited, and turned to him with a bland stare. “Do not posture with me. You built ten camps based on a rumour. You’re lucky I haven’t had guards placed on you as well.”

King Lee spun away with a disgusted sound, his robes flaring around him as he did so. He’d never felt so insulted in his life. A coup. As if he’d stoop so low. If he wanted a kingdom, he’d take it. He’d never marry his daughter into it. He didn’t need a woman to help him take down a royal family. Absurd. “You’ll regret this.”

“Perhaps,” Byungho agreed quietly. He was sure that, no matter what happened today, he’d regret it. Either he’d offended an entire royal family or Yoongi would be crushed. Neither were good options.

It didn’t take long for the guards to return with the crown prince and princess, mostly because they weren’t struggling. If anything, they looked confused and the princess looked a little scared. Immediately upon seeing his father, Dongha moved away from the guards to his side. “What’s going on? The guards rushed in and refused to say anything.”

“They think you are attempting a coup,” King Lee huffed out.

Dongha blinked a few times, clearly trying to process that, then rounded on Byungho. “You what? This is ridiculous. Where is Yoongi?”

If General Park had needed any more confirmation, that was it. The crown prince of another country seeking out the second prince of this one didn’t make sense unless he was sure Yoongi would help him in some way. There was no doubt Yoongi was involved somehow, General Park just had to figure out how. But he could take his time doing that. As long as he stopped this marriage, Yoongi would have to come up with a different plan.

“He’ll be here in a moment,” Byungho replied, not bothering to address anything further.

“Oppa,” Heejin murmured, placing her hand on Dongha’s arm. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Dongha answered, his eyes fixed on the general.

General Park scoffed. “Don’t put on a show now. I heard you with Prince Yoongi, Your Highness, you’re not so quiet or proper.”

Heejin immediately recoiled, her eyes darting to her father who looked furious at the suggestion. “Are you accusing my daughter of impropriety?”

Before General Park could reply, Yoongi strode in, barely containing the malice on his face. He rolled his eyes at General Park as he passed, going straight to his father. “What is this nonsense?”

Byungho raised a brow, not missing the way Dongha and Heejin immediately relaxed upon hearing Yoongi’s tone. “General Park says he overheard the crown prince and princess discussing their plans to take over our country.”

Yoongi frowned at his father. “He is aware I’m the second son and won’t inherit, yes?”

Just behind him, Dongha pursed his lips and looked away, clearly amused by Yoongi’s incredulous tone. Byungho ignored that as well and stared hard at his son before explaining further, “He says they were working in conjunction with Court Witch Seokjin.”

For a moment, Yoongi didn’t say anything. He merely stared at the somewhat tentative expression on his father’s face. If he hadn’t known that his father was aware of their relationship, he would have at that moment. In fact, he was sure everyone in the room did now. There was too much hesitancy in his father’s voice to suggest anything else. Yoongi didn’t care. “That’s absurd.”

“Your pride has always been your issue, Prince Yoongi,” General Park interjected, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as he shook his head. He wanted to say more, to accuse him outright, but he couldn’t, not yet. “You think you’re smarter than everyone else and can’t fathom anyone who disagrees.”

Yoongi turned back towards him slowly, his expression impassive. “I don’t think I’m smarter than everyone. I merely think I am smarter than some people.”

“Yet you were their pawn? An easy one at that,” General Park sneered. “Anything for a pretty face, huh?”

“Usually,” Yoongi said unrepentantly. If General Park was going to drag his name through the dirt for whatever this was, he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting. “Seokjin does have an uncommonly pretty face.”

Silence overtook the room. Yoongi was sure he could hear a bug scuttling across the floor. It was so quiet. Everyone was staring at the king, waiting for his reaction. Yoongi had, after all, just confessed to being with a man. Byungho didn’t react, he merely waited out the silence. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known and even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have cared. The only thing that bothered him was that Yoongi had never told him himself. That hurt.

King Lee was the first to break the silence with a scoff. “Thank the gods you have another son.”

“I don’t need one,” Byungho said briefly, glaring at the other king with a look so similar to the one Yoongi was giving the general everyone noticed. The guards who’d taken up their places in the room at General Park’s orders shifted uncomfortably, unsure what, exactly, was going on.

“I’m going to assume I wasn’t invited here for a party,” Seokjin called out as he was led into the room. All eyes swung to him immediately, some with disgust, some with disdain, others with curiosity. It was not the mix he was used to and it made him hesitate a moment. Until he met Yoongi’s eyes. There were conflicting emotions there too but the most prominent one was anger. He tugged his arm away from the guard holding him and walked straight for Yoongi. Before he could arrive he felt the press of steel on his throat. His eyes widened as he looked at General Park in horror. “What the hell is going on?”

“You’re quite confident for a traitor,” General Park pointed out. “Even if you’ve managed to trick the prince, you don’t fool me.”

“Traitor?” Seokjin repeated, his brows furrowing. “Have you lost your mind?”

General Park laughed, the sound abrupt and mean. “I knew the second I saw you that you were up to something. You were too willing to agree to anything Prince Yoongi said. Everything he suggested, you agreed to.”

Seokjin’s expression shifted to disdain. “I agreed with him because his plans were the better ones. I didn’t even know whose plans they were when the queen gave them to me.”

“General Park, enough,” Yoongi interrupted before he could reply. “If you’re so confident in your accusation, prove it. And take that sword away from his neck before I make you.”

“No—”

“Now,” Byungho interrupted, moving closer to his son. “There is no need for drawn swords here.”

General Park grimaced but dropped the sword away from Seokjin and sheathed it. Seokjin immediately went to Yoongi and scanned him from head to toe. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Yoongi assured him, then winced. “Everyone, uh, knows, by the way.”

Seokjin blinked a few times then looked around, suddenly understanding the expressions he’d seen when he came in. “Oh. Well. Alright then.”

Byungho had the sudden urge to scream. He’d watched a treason trial before, hell, there was currently one going on in the border town, and this was not the way it was supposed to go. General Park should have brought his worries to him privately, there should have been an investigation, there should have been discussion. Now it was a huge, chaotic mess and they were getting absolutely nowhere. He’d never been embarrassed by his government before, but, at that moment, he was. He’d clearly let his people have too much freedom if they thought this was okay.

“Present your evidence, General Park. You’ve made a serious claim that could start a war and result in an execution.”

General Park straightened with a nod, slipping his hand into his sleeve so he could hand the letter he’d received to the king. “Today I received a letter warning me that the country would be targeted by a witch.”

The king read the letter and frowned, his eyes darting to Seokjin despite himself. “This letter isn’t signed. How do you know it’s legitimate?”

“I didn’t,” General Park admitted, “but I decided to be more vigilant just in case.”

“Continue,” the king murmured, handing off the letter to Yoongi, who read it as well. His lips pursed unhappily, which made General Park feel even more confident in his conclusion.

Turning on Dongha and Heejin, General Park asked, “Were you or were you not talking about using a witch’s plan to marry Prince Yoongi?”

Dongha blinked a few times, his eyes darting to his father and then Yoongi before settling back on the general. “Yes.”

“And you targeted him specifically with the help of this witch?” General Park asked.

“We did,” Dongha agreed, ignoring the shocked sound from his father. 

“Explain yourself!” Byungho snapped. “You sent Seokjin here?”

“What? No,” Dongha denied, shaking his head with a frown. “My mother is a witch.”

Seokjin barely heard the announcement, he was too busy trying to understand what was going on. He’d been watching General Park closely but he hadn’t seen any real signs he was heading toward any of the negative outcomes he’d seen before. Not until now. It made Seokjin antsy that things weren’t progressing properly.

“The queen is a witch?” General Park asked, his mind already going over the conversation he’d just overheard—the princess had asked if her mother had known about Yoongi after the discussion about his relationship with Seokjin.

King Lee laughed mockingly. “She is but she’s a woman. As if I take her advice for anything my country does. She doesn’t impact anything I do.”

“Crown Prince Lee?” Byungho said questioningly.

Dongha looked at his father again and sighed. “My mother advised me that meeting with Prince Yoongi would be the best way to ensure peace between our countries. She bespelled the letter father sent so that Court Witch Seokjin would recognize there was a witch on the other side.”

“Easy to say when she’s not here to disagree,” General Park pointed out, stubbornly clinging to his previous assumptions.

“Why would I bring her here?” King Lee asked, looking at General Park with distaste. “Her opinion doesn’t matter nor is it wanted. She is better off looking over domestic matters at home until I return.”

Byungho thanked every god he could think of that Sooyoung wasn’t here for that statement. He was more than sure he wouldn’t have been able to make his wife stay quiet. The fact she hadn’t slapped the man when he’d insulted Yoongi was a feat in and of itself. She wouldn’t hold out for more.

Yoongi just sighed. This was information they knew already. Well, information he knew already. A quick glance at his father told him that Hyungki hadn’t explained that the queen was a witch to him, but that didn’t really matter. General Park was basing all of this on a single conversation and a vague letter. Yoongi couldn’t imagine why he’d rush forward with so little to go on. “If that’s all…”

“You knew,” General Park accused suddenly, his hand tightening on his sword as he gave up on his plan to investigate Yoongi quietly. “You knew the queen was a witch and that she’d chosen you specifically.”

That was the understatement of the century. Yoongi couldn’t imagine what General Park would do if he found out the queen was also the one who’d blessed him. There’d be no convincing him this wasn’t a long plot then. Though, to be fair, it didn’t seem there was any way to convince him now. He just kept getting more agitated the more people denied or corrected what he’d already decided was true. Yoongi glanced at Seokjin, who shook his head minutely, making Yoongi sigh again. “Yes, I knew.”

A few things happened simultaneously, one of which Seokjin had seen before. It made his vision blur and double as he watched the general’s face morph into anger and his lips move quickly. In the version he’d seen before, he hadn’t heard what he was saying. That prediction had been so hazy and unclear that he’d known it wasn’t in the timeline he was aiming for. Now, he heard the general’s harsh accusation: “You did this!”

“Did what?” Yoongi snapped back, all decorum missing from his voice. “Yes, I was aware the queen is a witch. Seokjin told me when the letter arrived.”

General Park’s eyes darted between Yoongi, the king, and Seokjin, looking for something. Seokjin knew without asking he was looking for confirmation of what Yoongi had just said. The problem was the king didn’t know what Yoongi was talking about and the general clearly knew that.

Which was what brought Seokjin to the second half of his previous prediction: the attack. He’d seen General Park attack Yoongi in several different ways in several different predictions. It was one of the reasons why he’d asked Yoongi to stay away from him, even before he’d grown close to him. He’d known then, as he did now, that Yoongi getting too heavily involved in the politics and with General Park would cause the man to make a series of decisions that led them to one of those violent outcomes.

Like now.

Seokjin didn’t stop to think as he grabbed the front of Yoongi’s hanbok and pulled him into his chest, using the momentum to spin Yoongi until Seokjin was between him and the general. Some very loud, very snarky part of his brain pointed out that this move had been exactly what Yoongi had done to protect Dongha—a move that had made him so mad at his stupidity once he’d calmed down. He ignored that part of himself and cradled Yoongi to his chest, waiting for the blow.

It never came.

Instead, all he heard was a clang from just behind him and the sharp voice of Crown Prince Lee. “Who are you to attack the prince!?”

“He’s a traitor! He’s working with that witch to take over the throne. First, he gets the witch to support all his plans, then he conveniently meets with the enemy prince and gets a heroic injury which none of us actually see, then he’s married to the princess! He’s amassing support and an army. Look how the crown prince defends him! It’s him! This is all him!

Seokjin’s mouth opened and closed, his eyes on Yoongi’s still shocked ones. Yoongi stared at him for a moment then stepped away, glaring at General Park as he straightened out his hanbok. “How is it that I am both useless and a master manipulator? You never give me the credit I deserve but you’re apparently more than willing to heap on what I don’t!”

General Park scoffed. “Please. Don’t act like you worked so hard. It’s obvious the witch is the only reason you could pull any of this off.”

“Are you insane?” Seokjin snapped out. “If I wanted to overthrow a royal family, it wouldn’t take this much work or time.”

“Seokjin…” Yoongi whispered, his hand moving to cover his face and rub.

Seokjin blinked then cleared his throat. Right, maybe not the best tactic. He turned to the king. “I’m only here because your wife asked me to be here. I have no interest in ruling anything. I’d thought that much was obvious by, well,” Seokjin gestured to himself vaguely, “everything I do.”

Byungho looked between Seokjin, Yoongi, and the general, who was still being blocked by Dongha. If he’d thought this was a mess before, it was a disaster now. “Do you have any actual evidence, General Park?”

“What more evidence do you need?” The general hissed, his irritation skyrocketing. It was obvious that the witch had been manipulating things from the beginning. He’d managed to infiltrate every single moment and influence every single decision they’d made since his arrival. Everything had been done to move Yoongi forward and to the throne. Byungho never noticed until it was too late. “This is why your brother was able to gather support. You don’t pay attention.”

It was like all the air was sucked out of the room. Even King Lee looked surprised by the general’s words. All eyes turned to the king, waiting for his reaction. Yoongi didn’t think he’d ever actually seen his father angry before. He’d thought he had, if someone had asked him yesterday he would have said that he had, but looking at him now, he realized that wasn’t true. Now his father was angry. The look on his face made the hair on Yoongi’s arms stand up and he instinctively reached for Seokjin, his fingers brushing his robes, seeking comfort.

When the king did speak, his tone was like ice and the resulting shiver was unsurprising. “Guards? Escort former General Park to a holding cell. His fate for falsely accusing visiting royalty, the court witch, and my son of treason will be decided upon by the council.” 

“Your Highness!” General Park tried to protest, even as the guards swooped in to do as they were told, removing his sword from his waist and grabbing onto him so he could be taken away. 

“Silence. You have embarrassed my family enough,” Byungho interrupted, his still angry eyes turning to the guards who’d hesitated when the general began to protest. “Take him away.”

The general’s protests could be heard even as the doors shut but everyone quickly tuned him out. It was like the entire room had frozen, no one really knew what to do next. Dongha was still facing away from the king as he’d been since he’d stepped into the path of the general, his sister was still staring with wide eyes, and King Lee still looked irritated. It was the first time since Yoongi had met the man that he understood where he was coming from.

Yoongi cleared his throat, catching the eyes of Dongha. “A dagger, huh?”

Dongha’s eyes widened and dropped to the dagger he was still holding in his hand. He tucked it away quickly, hiding it back in its concealed sheath. He had the decency to wince since weapons weren’t permitted at alliance meetings but he didn’t apologize. “It was a gift.”

“Handy,” Seokjin added, hoping to help Yoongi in his attempt to break some of the tension.

It didn’t work.

“I have never, in my life, been so disrespected,” King Lee snapped, glaring at Byungho as he did so. “You detain my children and accuse me of some untoward behaviour. How dare you!”

Byungho closed his eyes for a moment then straightened and raised a taunting brow at King Lee. “Did I or did I not hear that your wife had your son, the crown prince, target mine specifically?”

“That never happened,” King Lee denied. “She would do no such thing without approval from me first which I did not give.”

“And yet your son admitted to it,” Byungho pointed out. “So, the fact remains, your family came into all meetings with us under false pretenses. How is your word to be trusted? For all I know, your wife has concocted this entire sequence of events just to benefit you.”

King Lee scoffed. “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you now, I do not need a woman to get what I want. If I wanted your kingdom, I would take it.”

“You could try,” Byungho said, his tone level and without inflection. “You would not succeed.”

Not bothering to address that, King Lee spun on his heel and pointed at one of the guards who’d remained behind. “Escort us to our rooms. Now.”

The guard looked to the king in question and, when he nodded, bowed to King Lee. “If you’d follow me.”

Silently, Dongha took his sister’s arm and followed his father out but not before he looked back at Yoongi and waved his hand. It took Yoongi a moment to register that he was telling him to wait or hold on but by the time he figured it out, the doors were already closing again, leaving them alone. Or as alone as they could be with a guard, court historian, and attendant in the room.

“I’ve never been accused of treason before. That was new,” Seokjin quipped, trying to lighten the mood again.

“No?” Byungho asked, dropping down in a very unkingly manner with a loud sigh. “It loses its novelty after the first few times.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh, the sound tired and a little watery. “My gods.”

“Yea,” Byungho sighed out, glancing at the historian who’d been diligently taking notes the entire time. “What’s the precedent for an alliance holding up after something like that?”

The historian hesitated. “I don’t believe there is one.”

“Right. Of course not,” Byungho muttered.

“What happens now?” Yoongi asked.

“Now? I don’t know. We came to an agreement before everything went to hell so, in theory, it could stand, but I don’t see King Lee being the magnanimous type.”

Yoongi hesitated. “If… if we want it to, Dongha will make it happen. I believe that.”

“You have a lot of faith in him,” Byungho mused, watching his son carefully.

“I have faith that he’ll do what’s best for his country,” Yoongi clarified. “We both know this alliance is what’s best.”

Byungho’s gaze slid to Seokjin in an unasked question but nodded. “If you want to go through with this, then I’ll work on it.”