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Chapter Text

"Your Majesty, there is a new arrival on the western border," shouted a palace guard as KingJeon walked past him. The king halted, turning his head to look at the guard. The air outside was chilly as winter approached. The normally lush trees and plants lining the outdoor paths inside the palace walls were now brown and dead, much like the king's eyes.

"I was not notified that there would be a new arrival," the king said, his frown deepening.

"Were you not notified either?"

"No, fine sir, I can assure you I have no prior notice," King Jeon promised the guard, his eyes softening slightly when he realized that the guard was also unaware of the arrival.

"Is it a ship, sir?"

"No, your Majesty."

"How curious." The king's lip jutted out as he pouted, seemingly deep in thought.

"The messenger tells me it is just one man, Your Majesty. The man says he knows not of whence he came," the guard told the king, shuffling from one foot to the other in an attempt to get his blood flowing and stay warm.

The guard was an older man, possibly in his mid-fifties. He had hard eyes and a set jaw, a fierce and protective look engraved permanently on his face. This particular guard, whom we shall call Mr. Lee, was known to be a very loyal man, one who would do anything to protect his king. A protective instinct was not hard to come by around such a king, however, who couldn't have been more than nineteen years of age.

"Bring him here, Mr. Lee," commanded King Jeon, not unkindly.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

And so, the poor, confused man was brought into the throne room to kneel before the young king. The throne room's ceilings towered above even the tallest man's head, its intricate tapestries and paintings adorning every inch of space on the walls that would otherwise be barren. The ceiling of the room was plastered with purple polka dots, an odd choice for a throne room.

The king sat with his ankles crossed on the right-hand armrest of his throne, his back leaning against the left armrest with his arms crossed against his chest.

The man had his wrists bound with rope in front of his body, already dressed in the standard clothing for a prisoner: a white long-sleeved linen shirt and long, white linen pants. His chocolate brown eyes looked into the king's coffee colored ones, but even a fool could tell he was feigning bravery. His body trembled violently, and it certainly wasn't from the cold.

"What is your name, nongbu?" King Jeon's voice echoed throughout the massive stone throne room. The kneeling man gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"K-Kim Taehyung, Your Majesty."

"And tell me, Taehung-ssi, where do you reside?"

"Los Angeles."

"I know not of what you speak, Taehyung-ssi. Where is this Los Angeles you talk of?"

"California, Your Majesty." The prisoner spoke slowly.

"Callyfornya." King Jeon repeated, looking like he had just tasted some bad kimchi after saying the word.

"Tell me this, Taehyung-ssi." The young royal licked his lips and leaned forward towards Taehyung, lowering his voice when he spoke next.

"How did you enter Joseon without my knowledge?" Taehyung scooted back on his knees, the sound of his pants scraping against the stone floor resonating throughout the room as his Adam's apple bobbed once more. King Jeon poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, waiting for an answer.

"I-I don't know, Your Majesty. I don't even remember leaving Los Angeles." Taehyung nearly lost his composure, his voice threatening to break. In that moment, he was little more than a scared young man at the mercy of the king in front of him.

"I see," the king said. He pondered for a moment, staring intently at Taehyung.

"You know, Taehyung-ssi, you seem trustworthy," the king began, "but I would be a fool to let you go, and kings cannot afford to be foolish. I'm afraid I am unable to let you leave. Something is off about you, Taehyung-ssi, and I am determined to find out what it is."

Taehyung's Adam's apple bobbed yet again, but this time it was even more noticeable. None of the palace guards blamed him. As young as he may be, King Jeon was not one to be messed with, especially when it came to the safety of his people.

Taehyung's worry increased. Though he didn't know how he arrived in Korea in the first place, he knew that he didn't come by choice. All he wanted was to go back to his calm and quiet photography studio in Los Angeles, but the king's words made it seem like that would not happen for quite some time.

"Gentlemen, take him to a cell whilst I figure out what it is I want to do with him," the king commanded, and Taehyung was dragged away with little more than a wave of the king's hand.

Taehyung began cooperating with the palace guards until they let him walk without being dragged. The cold December air nipped at his cheeks and seeped into his bones through his thin linen clothing. The sky was gray and overcast, with clouds threatening to spit snow at any moment.

The prison house, Taehyung learned, was a relatively small stone building, located separately from the main palace. All of the windows were barred, and there were four guards in Taehung's line of sight already.

"Got another one for you, Mr. Jung," the guard holding Taehyung's left wrist told one of the guards at the entrance to the prison.

"Thank you, Mr. Cha. We shall take good care of him," replied the prison guard. He smiled creepily at Taehyung, showing all of his pointy, yellow teeth. He was like the classic kidnapper in a horror movie, and the realization made Taehyung's fear intensify.

Taehyung was thrown none too gently into a dark and dirty cell, the floors, walls, and ceiling made of dark gray stone. It smelled of must and dirt. The sound of the metal cell door creaking closed was the only sound in the prison house until the guard took out a ring of keys and locked Taehyung in his cell, the rusted keys jingling. Then he was alone, wrists still bound.

.....................................................................................

King Jeon's fingers combed through his long, silky, black hair as he sat on a stone bench inside the palace walls, deep in thought. He should have been contemplating more important things than he was, but there he was, thinking of a certain pair of chocolate brown eyes. Innocent-looking eyes. Wide. Round.

The king cursed his mind for the thoughts that circulated through it. He knew that throwing the man in prison was the right decision. He had learned the hard way never to trust anyone with looks like a rose. No matter how beautiful their eyes were.

"Your Majesty!" The young king's advisor ran up to his peaceful bench, breaking the silence that was drowned out by his loud thoughts. The king shot up at the wild look of alarm in his advisor's eyes.

"What is it, Mr. Bang? Has something happened with Taehyung-ssi?!" King Jeon had decided to get his worst fear out of the way first, praying to any god that would listen that Taehyung would be safe. For questioning reasons, of course. Taehyung probably had information that he needed.

"No, Your Majesty, 'tis worse. You had best come with me, sire. The rest of the council is waiting in the war room." That was all Mr. Bang had to say, apparently, as he once again took off in the direction from whence he came.

Having no other choice, the young king sprinted after him, discouraged. He was quite fast and could have caught up with his advisor despite Mr. Bang's head start, but something in him didn't want to. He was angry. He couldn't even have thirty peaceful minutes to think, let alone a normal youth. It was just one disaster after another.

King Jeon slowed his pace a little, breathing in the crisp, cold air and letting it fill his lungs. He knew he would need to remain calm as he entered that room, because no one else would be. His mood souring as he realized no one would do his job for him, the king heaved out a sigh and tugged open one of the massive, heavy double doors, sighing again as eight different people started yelling at him at once.

He finally snapped.

"Silence!" The king bellowed, all of the mouths in the room snapping closed afterwards. King Jeon rarely ever raised his voice, so when he did, he gained immediate respect.

"Now," the king began at a lower volume, "who can tell me whatever is wrong?" The council members raised their hands low, and the king pointed at someone to answer.

"Your Majesty, President Grant is furious." That got the king's attention. His eyes snapped up from his fingernails.

"Are you speaking about the president of the United States? America?" King Jeon wanted to double-check his knowledge of world leaders before making any decisions.

"Yes, Your Majesty, the very same."

"Damn it. What could he be mad about?"

"Your Majesty, he has just discovered the fate of the SS General Sherman," Mr. Bang chimed in.

"What about it, Mr. Bang?" The king was clearly confused, his brows furrowed in an attempt to recall the ship.

"A ship was destroyed around four years ago, sire, with the belief that it was full of pirates. We thought they were a threat." The king let out another heavy sigh, leaning back in his wicker chair and rubbing his temples.

"King Jeon, what do we do?" One of the newer advisors at the end of the table asked. The king pondered for a while, thinking of what he would want if another country destroyed some of his men. In all honesty, he would be furious, too.

"Well, I believe the only thing that can be done right now is to draft a letter of apology. We must be sincere and ask what the president would like for compensation without making it sound like we are trying to replace the men with things."

The advisors stared in awe at the king's wisdom. It seemed so impossible that a mere letter could solve the mess, so no one else thought to consider it seriously.

And so, the palace translator was brought in and a letter was drafted, then sent. All they had to do now was wait until the letter was shipped all the way to America.

After the president received the letter, it would all be fine, right?

Right?

Chapter Text

Taehyung lay on the straw in his cell, listening to the sounds of the night. He thought of his day, strange and new. His mind drifted to his cat, Carl. God, he missed his cat so bad. Carl had the perfect, silky-soft fur and the loudest motor-like purr. Taehyung decided then that he had to get back to Los Angeles. For Carl.

Tae curled in on himself, shivering. There was no barrier between him and the cold winter night. The window didn't even have a screen; it was just four black bars about an inch apart covering a small hole in the wall.

Surprising himself, Taehyung started thinking about the king. The way he managed to use scare tactics while being cocky and beautiful amazed Taehyung. Taehyung loved the way his long, silky black hair flew around when the king moved his head, not to mention the king's robes. He had long, green robes with bright gold thread outlining detailed flowers and paisley patterns. The robes themselves seemed to be made of air, so they were probably of the finest quality silk.

Taehyung wished desperately that he could take a picture of the stunning king. He was a perfect muse, seemingly born to be in front of a camera. Hell, he was a piece of art even before Tae's help.

The young captive stared at the wall in front of him, longing for the wall to turn into a beautiful sunset. Taehyung had always watched the sun set every single night without fail since he was a teenager. Tonight was the first night since turning thirteen that he had ever missed it.

The messy-haired prisoner began to grow sadder and sadder thinking about that night. He had always been a sad kid. Suicidal, depressed, hopeless. Every single breath he took felt like climbing a mountain. It got to the point where his parents had his whole family come to Los Angeles for his birthday in an attempt to cheer him up. His grandmother had taken his hand and dragged him out on the back porch to sit next to her.

"You see that, my prince?" She had asked him that night. "That means you made it through another day. Look at the beautiful reward God gives you when you make it. He wants you to stay on his earth."

Taehyung had looked at her like she hung the moon. He just had to make it until sunset. Just one more sunset. Then another. And another. As stupid as it may seem, missing the sunset made Taehyung feel that neither his grandmother nor God cared that he had made it another day. He just wanted to watch one more sunset with his grandmother so he could find the strength to get home. Who knows, maybe Taehyung will benefit from not taking his antidepressants.

........................................

King Jeon lounged lazily on his slightly elevated mattress, finishing scribbling out his letter to Bae Nabi. He could already predict her reaction to his terrible jokes, either a polite chuckle (that's not funny) or a real, hearty, unladylike laugh (that's the funniest shit I've ever heard).

Nabi was known for her beauty and her father's money. That was about it. She was stunning; there was no denying that. But King Jeon didn't see the appeal. Of course, he would never voice his true thoughts out loud, but that didn't stop him from wishing he had more of a choice in whom he married. Picturing her as the mother of his son was extremely hard.

All the king wanted to do was curl up in a ball and wail like an infant. It wasn't fair, nothing was fair! Look at him complaining when he is indeed betrothed to the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon. He knew of many who would kill to be in his position, but the king would much rather choose for himself. And guess what his choice would be? No marriage at all.

Shackled by the chains of rules and governing, the king scarcely had time to himself, and when he did, he enjoyed pretending that he was as free as a bird, and being married would make that quite hard. To him, marriage was giving up his freedom. A choice that should never have to be made by someone who should still be enjoying their youth. Truth be told, King Jeon could never see himself loving a woman.

Sometime later, Mr. Bang entered the royal bedroom to wish the king good night, only to find him fast asleep on his mattress. Imprinting the image of the young monarch's sleeping form in his mind, Mr. Bang stealthily crept out, whispering a quiet "Goodnight, Your Majesty" before leaving the room and heading back to his own quarters.

..............................

Cedar, leather, and musk. That was the first thing Taehyung smelled when he awoke in the morning. He groaned and curled onto his left side, trying desperately to get his eyes to open, but they felt like they were glued shut.

He finally used his fingers to pry his eyes open, only to jump out of his skin when he realized that he was face-to-face with the king.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," King Jeon said, winking at Taehyung. He was squatting low, balancing on his tiptoes. All Taehyung could do was gape at him. The king winked cockily at him, seeming very pleased with himself.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, you scared the living daylights out of me," Taehyung said, putting his hand over his racing heart as he stood up in his cell. King Jeon laughed a loud, child-like, infectious laugh that soon had Taehyung giggling as well.

"You are going to need to have some grit if you are going to be around here, Taehyung-ssi," the king chuckled.

"Just...Taehyung," Tae said carefully.

"Pardon me?"

"Just call me Taehyung, Your Majesty."

"Very well then, Taehyung. Call me Jungkook," the young monarch responded.

"Jungkook, huh?"

"You dare judge your king's name, Taehyung?" Jungkook asked sarcastically, raising his eyebrow.

"Of course not, Your Majesty," Taehyung joked, dramatically bowing at the waist.

"Right, then, we need to get going," Jungkook said, his serious tone coming back into his voice.

"For what, Your- er- Jungkook?"

"You shall see. However, I have an inkling that you may not enjoy it."

A court. He brought Taehyung to a fucking court. Taehyung understood deep down that the safety of Korea was at stake, blah blah blah. But that by no means meant that he couldn't be pouty about the situation.

Taehyung sat on a cushion in front of a short table with a judge on the opposite side. The whole room was made of elegant mahogany, even the artwork that let light in on the left side of the room.

The judge himself radiated an intoxicating energy that touched everyone around him, including Taehyung. He didn't know what it was, but he felt calmer than when he entered the room.

A new scent tickled Tae's nostrils, manly lilac with hints of citrus and another sweet thing that he just couldn't place. The man even smelled like happiness.

"Taehyung-ssi, I shall need you to swear on your life that you will proceed to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Dishonest answers are punishable by death," the judge said. Here we go again with all the threatening, Taehyung thought, but nodded anyway.

"I swear," he said.

"Lovely, now, Your Majesty, would your royalness please step out so I can question this young man?" Asked the judge, half-jokingly and half-politely.

"Hoseok-ssi, I need to be i-"

"Bup bup bup, Your Majesty. Remember how this worked the last time? I do some questioning without your judgment, and then we question together. Now shoo."

Jungkook pouted as he got up and walked out, but not before looking over his shoulder to glare at the man whom Taehyung had grown to know as Hoseok. As soon as the door closed behind the king, the judge began speaking to Taehyung.

"He likes you, Taehyung-ssi."

"Pardon me, judge?"

"His majesty thinks you are attractive, Taehyung-ssi."

"What do you mean, Hoseok-ssi?"

"Oh heavens, call me Hoseok hyung," he chirped, smiling warmly at Taehyung, "and is it not obvious to you, Taehyung?"

"Is what not obvious, hyung?" Taehyung looked at Hoseok was holding a fifty-foot orange.

"Keep up, Tae! Have you not seen the way he looks at you, dear?" Hoseok asked him, his voice changing from playful to gentle.

"N-no." Taehyung's eyes went wide, his lips jutting out.

"Tae, go after him," Hoseok began, "for I have always known that our great king was a little different, but I could never put my finger on it. Now I do believe I know. The king fancies men, and, more specifically, you."

Taehyung was silent, the gears clearly turning in his head as he processed the information he had just heard. Hoseok finally broke the pin-drop silence.

"Oh, dear, you do like men too, right? Or have I messed up? Sometimes reading people becomes hard," Hoseok said worriedly, clearly terrified that he had messed up.

"Hyung, I do, it's just...I don't know what to do." Tae's eyes were glassy now.

"I did not mean to overwhelm you, Tae. But you are running out of time, dear."

"Huh?"

"The king is engaged, but his fiancée is not a good woman, Taehyung. I could be executed for saying this, but she has done bad things, Taehyung. Things that she has worked hard to cover up, so people who still remember will be killed for acting crazy."

"What can I possibly do about that, hyung?! I don't even belong here! I can't save a kingdom!"

"You need to make the king fall for you," Hoseok said.

He needed to make the king fall for him.

Chapter Text

King Jeon sat on a bench outside the court building, quite literally twiddling his thumbs. He desperately wished that he could hear what was going on. Alas, no matter how hard he strained his ears, they were met with nothing but the occasional chirp of a bird that had not migrated for the winter.

His heart ached, and he had no idea why. Nothing felt right, like the young ruler was missing something. Or someone.

Growing tired of sitting down, the king dragged his body up off the cold stone bench and began pacing.

Back.

Forth.

Back.

Forth.

The king paced for quite some time, his nose and cheeks growing pink from the cold. He had wanted to let his mind wander during this period and actually have some time to himself, but his thoughts would not stray from a certain chocolate-eyed man. Great.

You would think that running a country would have one much busier than our young king was now, but because of his young age, most of the actual country-running was done by his advisors, because they could never trust a teenager. Mostly, the king just got the final say, talked to his subjects every once in a while, and got to help during crises.

The king scoffed to himself as he kicked a rock around the walking path. If only I were older, he thought miserably. How could he ever be a great ruler one day if his own staff did not trust him to make decisions?

.................................

"And finally, are you a spy?" Taehyung took Hoseok's handkerchief to wipe the beads of sweat off his forehead, slumping in relief when he found out this was his last question. He had been absolutely grilled for the previous two and a half hours. As grouchy as Tae was, he had to admit that Hoseok was a great judge.

"No, hyung, I am not a spy."

"Perfect, that means we are finished. Thank you for your time, Taehyung." Tae jumped out of his chair, whooping as he ran for the door.

"Tae, wait!" Hoseok yelled. Taehyung froze just as he was about to open the door. "Don't forget, Bae Nabi cannot be queen." Taehyung nodded and opened the door, his hands shaking. The second the door was open enough to let air through, he had a whole king barreling towards him.

"Taehyung! Oh, thank heavens! That took forever. How did it go?" Jungkook rapid-fired questions at Tae like it was his job.

"Jungkook, it went just fine. I'm cleared," Tae said, and Jungkook smiled the biggest, most heart-melting smile Taehyung had ever seen. He swore he saw Jungkook's smile glint in the sunlight.

"Lovely," Jungkook grinned, "because I was becoming relatively accustomed to having you around."

"Wow, all I get is accustomed?" Taehyung huffed, playfully pushing Jungkook backwards. The giggle that left Jungkook's mouth made Tae's heart melt. And not the kind of melting that happened when a kitten sneezed, no, the melting that came when your whole chest felt as if it was being crushed by affection.

"For now." Taehyung feigned hurt and clutched his chest, falling backwards. They both giggled at each other, Jungkook's eyes becoming tiny slits on his face. When they finally calmed down, Taehyung asked:

"Jungkookie, how old are you?"

"I'm nineteen."

"Holy shit, Jungkook."

"Why, how old are you?"

"Twenty."

"So you are my hyung?"

"It looks that way, kid," Taehyung said, deciding to ignore the fact that Jungkook was born about 143 years before him.

"Hey," Jungkook whined, "that was not nice." Taehyung rolled his eyes and ruffled Jungkook's hair, chuckling when the younger pouted at him.

"Where to now, my liege?" Jungkook rolled his eyes.

"Are you peckish, hyung?"

"Quite."

"Then we shall go to lunch," the king chirped, linking Taehyung's arm with his own. Cute, Taehyung thought, staring at Jungkook's side profile as they walked. It was beautiful. He had a sharp, chiseled jaw and a beautifully sculpted neck, not to mention his handsome face. Like he said earlier, Jungkook was a work of art begging to be photographed.

As they entered the dining hall, Taehyung couldn't help but gape. The room was beautifully lit up by natural light let in by the floor-to-ceiling windows on one of the walls, and there was a large, darkly stained wooden table that looked as if it could sit thirty people. On the table, there lay a lavish spread of meat, breads, noodles, soups, vegetables, dumplings, and so much more.

Fancy china was set at every place, begging not to be used. One of the servants pulled out a chair for Taehyung at the center of the table, and he sat down obligingly. Surprising Taehyung, Jungkook took a seat right next to him.

"Don't kings sit at the head of the table?" Taehyung asked as the king placed his linen napkin on his lap.

"Yes indeed, however, I could never just leave you here to be lonely," Jungkook mumbled in response, staring at his lap. Taehyung knew what he meant.

"Well, dig in, Your Majesty."

"Pardon?"

"Oh...uh...let's eat?" Jungkook threw his head back and laughed at Taehyung. His laughter was infectious, and he soon had Taehyung joining him. Jungkook's laugh was so joyful and hearty, a refreshing break from all of the fake laughs in Taehyung's life.

Jungkook and Taehyung absolutely destroyed the food before them, eating enough between the two of them to feed at least fifteen people. Tae was worried that Jungkook would be a dainty, royal eater, but boy, was he wrong.

Leaning back in his chair and sighing contentedly, Taehyung's eyes could not help but catch sight of Jungkook's long, black, silky hair falling past his shoulders.

"Jungkookie?"

"Yes, hyung?"

"Can I braid your hair?" Jungkook smiled at Taehyung, handing him a few strips of ribbon.

"Certainly," he said, and turned his back to Taehyung so he could braid it.

Taehyung's fingers wove the silky black strands together into a 3D Dutch dragon braid, geometrical patterns forming in Jungkook's hair.

Around ten minutes after he started braiding, he gently tapped Jungkook on the shoulder.

"Jungkookie, I'm finished," Tae said, and Jungkook got up and headed towards the large windows to see his reflection.

Jungkook gasped, and his hand made its way up to his head to touch his hair. His eyes sparkled as he twirled in front of the mirror.

"H-hyung, it's beautiful," Jungkook gasped in awe. "Where did you learn how to do this?

"I always wanted daughters, so I began learning how to do hair," Taehyung mumbled, his cheeks flushing.

"That is the lovliest thing I have ever heard, Tae. You are welcome to practice on me. We would not want those future daughters of yours walking around with rats' nests on their heads, now, would we?" Taehyung chuckled at this, but his eyes softened.

Taehyung threw himself into Jungkook's arms, hugging him tighter than he had ever hugged anyone before. Jungkook stayed stiff for a moment, frozen, like he had no idea what to do, but it only took a few more seconds for him to hug Tae back.

Taehyung buried his head deep in the crook of Jungkook's extra warm neck, inhaling his scent of cedar, leather, and musk once again. A sense of peace washed over him, slowing his heartbeat.

Jungkook finally released Taehyung, coughing awkwardly.

"What do you have to do next, Jungkook?" Taehyung asked in an attempt to lighten up the tense atmosphere.

"I...uh...I have to meet with some townspeople," he answered, looking down at his feet.

"Can I watch, Jungkookie? I won't show myself," Taehyung pleaded.

"Of course, hyung."

And so, they left the beautiful dining room and made their way through the December chill to the throne room once more. Taehyung leaned against a doorway in the back corner of the room, watching as Jungkook settled into his throne, properly this time.

Squeals resonated throughout the large room as the giant double doors flew open and flocks of children ran up to the young king. They formed a line in front of him, excitedly bouncing on their heels as they waited for their parents to catch up.

"Your Majesty," a young woman acknowledged, bowing to him with her daughter.

"Hello, Ms. Song, and hello to you, too, Ms. Jiyeon," Jungkook replied politely. "What can I do for you two lovely ladies today?"

Taehyung watched as Jungkook interacted kindly with person after person, his heart swelling with pride as people complimented his braid. Each time the braid was mentioned, Jungkook would respond with a "Thank you so much! Someone very close to me did it," which made Taehyung's heart swell even more.

At one point, a stunning woman pushed her way through the crowd to see the king, muttering 'pardon me' to every few people.

"Hello, Your Majesty," she said, her voice sickly sweet.

"Hello, Nabi," Jungkook answered, his voice masking the annoyance his body language was clearly showing. Taehyung's ears perked up, his eyes narrowing in on the woman trying to steal Jungkook from him-er, the kingdom- from Jungkook.

Tae watched intently as they began an overly peppy round of small talk, watching Jungkook's body radiate frustration. When Nabi finally left, it seemed as if smoke was about to come out of Jungkook's ears, but you would never know because he kept his composure so well.

After a few more hours of talking to his subjects, Jungkook finally rose from his throne and sauntered over to where Taehyung was standing.

"Hey," Taehyung said.

"Hey." Taehyung looked out the window and noticed the sun had begun to dip below the trees. He panicked, not wanting to miss another sunset. He never wanted to miss another sunset.

"Jungkookie, I have a weird question," Taehyung stated.

"Ask away, hyung."

"Will you...will you watch the sunset with me? I watch it every single night, I mean, it all started with my grandma...and"

"Hyung. Always," Jungkook said, cutting Taehyung off from his ramble. Taehyung smiled the biggest, boxiest smile to ever adorn his face.

"Well, then. What are we waiting for?!" Jungkook said, grabbing Taehyung's hand. They raced down the paved path and into the palace courtyard. Taehyung sat down on the top of one of the many rolling hills and smiled when he saw the sun beginning to dip more and more.

"Come here, Junkookie," Taehyung said, patting the ground in between his legs, "let hyung braid your hair again."

Jungkook sat down obediently as Taehyung untied the ribbon and gently finger-brushed his silky black hair once again. He gently pulled hair over other strands of hair, weaving them all together to make one long, beautiful fishtail braid. They sat in comfortable, content silence until Jungkook broke it.

"Hyungie?"

"What's up, Kook?"

"We can switch positions if you want." Taehyung grinned at the king, getting up and sitting between Jungkook's legs. Jungkook gently pulled Tae's body towards his until Tae's head was resting on his broad chest. Jungkook began to play with Taehyung's hair, ruffling and scratching it.

"Hyung," Jungkook asked questioningly.

"Yes, Kook?"

"This is nice."

"Yeah," Taehyung said. "Yeah, it is."

They stayed just like that until the sunset faded to black.

Chapter Text

The king was in his quarters after watching the sunset, doing kingly things, as one would expect. He was lying flat on his mattress with his feet vertical in the air, kicking them slightly. His mind filled with the day's activities, and he smiled contentedly.

Knock knock knock knock knock knock, "Do you want to build a snowman?" A voice sang from outside the king's door, and he was so startled he fell off his mattress. Jumping up and brushing himself off, he mumbled a half-hearted "Come in."

A certain chocolate-eyed man came bouncing through his door, a boxy grin set on his face.

"Hey, Jungkookie!" He chirped.

"Uh...hey, hyung," Jungkook replied awkwardly. "What in the heavens were you singing? I have never heard anything like it." Taehyung froze, his brain calculating. "I do not believe there is enough snow to build a snowman quite yet; besides, it should be seen as quite childish, don't you think?" Jungkook continued thinking aloud.

"It's just...a saying...that I made up. It, uh, it means 'can I come in?'." Taehyung cursed his unsure voice. The young monarch nodded along, seemingly engrossed in something else.

"How did you get out of the prison house, hyung?" Jungkook asked.

"Well, I am so glad you asked." Oh no. "First, I tried stone-cold begging. Nothing. Then, I tried annoying your stupidly stoic guards with the world's tiniest violin to no avail. Finally, in an act of self-pity, I yelled that you would like to see me, and apparently they fell for it, so pretend like we were talking about something oh so very important just now."

"I fear my guards and I will be having a little lesson on how to check in with one another," the king said after Tae finished his story. Taehyung giggled.

"You know you love me, Kookie," Taehyung sing-songed.

"Yeah, yeah, I do." That earned Jungkook a very large grin, so big that it looked like it hurt.

"You should move me from the prison house to the palace, now that you know I'm trustworthy and not a spy and all that jazz," Taehyung concluded. The king chuckled dryly and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I am sure you would enjoy that."

"Yes, Jungkookie, that's why I brought it up." All it took was one look at each other's faces, and they burst out laughing.

"I suppose arrangements could be made," said the king when he regained his ability to breathe properly. Taehyung whooped and bounced over to hug Jungkook, which is how their second hug ever came to be.

.................................................

Taehyung stared in awe at his new quarters. It was fit for royalty, literally, as this is where all of the visiting nobles stayed. The wooden walls were painted with intricate green flowers everywhere, and there were beautiful green fabric curtains on the sides of the windows to match. Even the wood around the mattress was green and flowery, making Taehyung feel like some sort of fairy in a fantasy novel.

Morning had come so quickly now that he was warm and cozy at night, not to mention the fact that his room was right across the hall from another very important bedroom.

Taehyung stretched dramatically, his bones crackling and popping as they moved.

"Man, I'm getting old," Tae said to himself. He quickly shed the dirty white prisoner's uniform and switched to the regal emerald green and gold hanbok already laid out for him by his bed. He was sensing a tiny bit of a theme going on.

The sun hit the glass window just right, causing golden yellow rays of light to filter through the wooden room. There was even a tiny rainbow in front of the window, making Taehyung smile.

When he finally opened the door to start his day, Taehyung was met with a pretty young servant looking as if she was about to knock.

"Taehyung-ssi," she began, "His Majesty requested I let you know that he cannot join you for breakfast this morning as he has been called to duty. He sends his deepest regrets," she finished, bowing.

Tae bowed back and thanked her, his heart sinking at the thought of eating alone at that big table, laughing at his own jokes inside his head instead of the kingś dry humor. Alas, life must go on, so Taehyung trudged miserably through the cold, gloomy morning and into the dining hall for the absolutely regal delicacy of plain white rice to dance across his taste buds.

Taehyung's skin formed goosebumps as he watched his breath in the air. If one were to look at him from far away, one would think he was smoking.

Tae pushed open one of the large wooden doors to the dining hall, exerting some effort. His jaw dropped as he saw the massive assortment of food on the table. Banchan, soups, rice, stews, every food you could even dream of. Much, much too much for one person.

Turning to look at all of the servants looking at him nervously as if pleading for him to like it, he came up with an idea.

"May I inquire something about you folks?" Taehyung asked. All of the hardworking people in the room nodded once they realized that this man was addressing them.

"How many of you fine people have yet to have the first meal of the day? Let me see a show of hands." Taehyung was surprised to see the majority of the staff with their hands raised.

"Well then, come, sit down and eat! I insist! I could never eat this much myself." The staff looked very hesitant at first, but it only took one person sitting down for all twenty-five kitchen staff members to sit down and eat with Tae, smiling, laughing, and joking the whole way through the meal.

.......................................................

"Is it as horrendous as it seems, Your Majesty?" Mr. Bang asked, his eyes pleading for the king to say it wasn't so.

"I am afraid it is, Mr. Bang." Groans of outrage rang out across the small council room as they all stared at the young king holding one single piece of paper. "President Grant has refused our attempts at making amends. He has cut all ties with Joseon, including trade."

"Your Majesty, what does this mean for Korea?"

"Well, Mr. Song, I am afraid I must visit with the president. It seems letters are not enough to resolve this matter," the king said diplomatically.

"Will you be traveling to America, sire?"

"No, Mr. Bang, I am afraid it would be much too costly; besides, we simply do not have a way to rule the country while I am away," the young monarch concluded.

Sighs resonated throughout the council room. Jungkook wanted to bang his head against a brick wall. Why did Americans have to be so difficult?!

Jungkook took his brush and dipped it in ink, stroking the fine bristles against the coarse, yellowed paper. The letter read:

Dear President Grant,

It is my understanding that we cannot resolve this issue on paper. I would once again like to offer my deepest apologies for the terrible happenings that took place four years ago. This took place before I was in power; otherwise, I can assure you I would have been aware of the situation and taken charge immediately. I am terribly sorry that this situation has taken so long to be recognized. I understand your frustration, and I think we should meet in person as we cannot come to a compromise. I am unfortunately unable to travel to America as I do not have anyone to rule Joseon while I am away. Would you, my dear president, be open to traveling to Joseon? You would stay in the palace, of course. I sincerely hope we can resolve this issue soon.

Best regards,

King Jeon II

The king called for his translator, and then the letter was sent to be put on the next royal mail ship to America.

"I assume that we shall need to prepare for the leader of America to pay us a little visit. We shall begin preparations this very day, as heaven knows how much work diplomatic visits are," the king said. Everyone nodded and wrote his words down with care.

"We shall need to clean up the grounds and the interior of the palace, sire."

"Mr. Bang is correct, gentlemen. The grounds need some work, as does the interior of the castle, but we shan't put too much money towards remodeling as we need it to pay for people's homes and things," King Jeon added. The gentlemen of the council all nodded in agreement.

The room smelled of wax and wood, the reddish brown table sticking out like a sore thumb against the dusty brown dirt. The dirt floor was extra cold because the ground outside was frozen, so small candles were lit throughout the room for warmth. There were small oil lamps at every member's seat, and detailed maps of Joseon lined almost every centimeter of the reddish brown wood paneled wall. All in all, it was pretty cozy.

Mr. Bang placed his elbow on the table to raise his hand.

"You may speak, Mr. Bang," said the king, his deepish voice bouncing off the wood in the room and echoing.

"Is it not true that the little prisoner boy is staying in the best room? When the time comes, maybe we should kick him ou-"

"No!" The king interrupted. Eight pairs of eyes looked at him weirdly. "I mean...that shan't be necessary to move the poor lad. I say we can fix up one of the other rooms to be just as nice. Besides, I would never be comfortable with the leader of one of the biggest nations to be sleeping directly across the hall from me!"

Mr. Bang and the others merely nodded and wrote down 'fix up a room fit for a king' on their to-do list.

"Now, gentlemen, is there anything else that needs doing whilst we are all together?"

"No, Your Majesty," chorused eight voices in unison.

"Well, then, meeting adjourned," answered the young royal. His chair scraped loudly against the dirt, and the concrete underneath said dirt, hurting the ears of the council members as he hurried out of the room.

"My, I wonder what has his hair in a tangle," remarked a council member, but the king was long gone.

................................................

"One...two...three...four...fi-" Taehyung's counting was interrupted when the large double doors to the dining hall burst open. King Jeon stood at the doorway, looking around frantically with wide eyes until his eyes landed on Tae.

"Oh, hyung, I am so terribly sorry I missed breakfast! Oh dear, and lunch too! How can I make it up to you?" He asked, jogging up to back-hug Tae.

"Well, Jungkookie, you can help me find all of your kitchen workers," Taehyung replied.

"What?"

"We're playing a giant game of hide'n'seek, Jungkookie, keep up!" Jungkook looked bewildered, his left eyebrow raised, but the corners of his mouth were upturned. He pursed his lips.

"Well, then. Looks like we have thirty people to find." And they were off.

...............................................

"HA! Found you!" Taehyung yelled, stomping over to the crouched form behind a plant and pointing dramatically. Jungkook just laughed, the sound of it making Tae's ears go red.

"That's twenty-seven, Jungkookie, beat that!"

"I was under the notion that we were a team, hyung."

"Oh, yeah," Taehyung said sheepishly, causing another melodic giggle to fall out of the mouth of the bunny-smiling king. Looking up at the sky, Taehyung realized that it was starting to burn yellow and orange.

"We'd better hurry, Jungkookie," Taehyung started, already walking towards their spot, "or we're going to miss the sunset. Jungkook smiled at the back of Tae's head, then announced that the game was over.

"We would never want that, hyung."

"No, we wouldn't." Taehyung linked his arm with the king's and skipped, his short black hair bouncing up and down with his body. Jungkook skipped with him all the way to their sunset-staring spot.

"What braid are you practicing tonight, hyung?" Jungkook asked once he was settled between Taehyung's legs again.

"Let's go with a double Dutch braid tonight," came the reply.

Taehyung braided Jungkook's silky jet-black hair, his fingers weaving in and out, in and out. They lay there for a long time, despite the cold weather nipping at their ears and noses, watching the stars twinkle once the sun had set.

Long story short, both men fell asleep with smiles on their faces.

Chapter Text

Two uneventful weeks had passed at the palace. Jungkook had not received a reply from the president, nor had Taehyung made a move on Jungkook. There was simply too much to do, especially for Taehyung.

It was nearing Christmas at the palace, but no one seemed to care. Taehyung ultimately decided to throw a Christmas party on Christmas Eve, so everyone could wake up to decorations and gifts.

Taehyung bounced his leg giddily as he kept sewing his portrait. One of the servants had taught Tae how to cross-stitch, and he was absolutely positively not going to let his lessons go to waste.

He had been secretly working on sewing Jungkook's face onto a lovely piece of canvas. The gentle sound the needle made when it poked through the canvas was one of Taehyung's new favorite sounds. He hoped Jungkook would hang his cross-stitch in the throne room for all to see.

Taehyung was gifting each of the palace workers a beautiful piece of calligraphy with warm Christmas wishes and money. Each of the folded pieces of paper was tied delicately with thick, red silk ribbon.

Tae had made wreaths and ornaments to decorate, as well as garlands, stockings, and even a star for the top of the tree. Yes, he had been busy this last fortnight. All of the decorations sat hidden in his wardrobe.

The young chocolate-eyed man had notified the kitchen to make a meal to surprise the king, consisting of roast turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, and candied yams. He had also requested hot chocolate to be made. The servants were all incredibly confused as they had never cooked anything like this meal, but they were willing because Taehyung was their favorite.

Taehyung was so excited that he could do cartwheels and backflips if he could complete a cartwheel or backflip without breaking a bone.

He couldn't wait for Jungkook to see.

......................................................................

"What color, Your Majesty?"

"I don't know, brown?" The interior designer sighed at his response.

"Your Majesty, we cannot just have a brown royal suite."

"Am I not paying you to choose the colors and everything?"

"Yes, sire, but I figured you would want to have a say," the designer responded. Jungkook laughed sharply.

"Oh, heavens no! Just make it fancy!" Jungkook exclaimed. "If I had a say, the whole palace would be brown and purple!" The interior designer chuckled and rolled her eyes, already getting to work on the room.

"The room should be finished in a few weeks, Your Majesty," she said.

"Oh, thank you so much. It is lovely not to have to worry about one thing less." Said the king.

Quick footsteps echoed on the stone floor outside the room, making it feel as if the palace was shaking. Two quick knocks sounded on the hardwood door frame, then in walked Mr. Bang.

"Your Majesty, we have received a response from the president, and you are needed in the council room immediately!" The king groaned but followed anyways.

Cold air smacked the young monarch in the face the second the palace doors opened, and he hugged himself tightly. The sound of the wind was eerie, almost as if someone was whispering. His teeth chattered dramatically as snowflakes began to fall like tiny ballerinas.

The king nearly slipped on a stray patch of ice, stumbling and wobbling until he found solid ground once more. Mr. Bang remained oblivious to the young boy's struggles with walking like a normal person.

Jungkook sighed in relief when the council room doors were opened for him by a guard, the warm air hitting him like a warm hug; alas, his relief did not last long.

"Your Majesty," the judge began gravely, "the president is on his way."

"Now?!"

"Yes, Your Majesty, right now." That was the moment the panic started. All the council members were out of their seats, sleeves pulled up, yelling at each other. The king began pacing and pacing, biting his nails as if deep in thought.

"Whatever shall we do?"

"Your Majesty, it is all up to you," said Mr. Bang.

"I realize that, but I myself have no idea how to treat an American, much less the president. I fear I did not think this through. What if I offend him and make matters worse?" No one knew what to say. Comforting words would not calm down the situation.

"Wait..."

"Yes, Hoseok?" The king said, whipping his head around to face the judge.

"Taehyung is American, is he not?"

"Hoseok, you genius, I could kiss you!" Jungkook shouted, running over to squeeze him.

"I'd really rather you not," Hoseok chuckled.

"Alright, 'tis time to bring in the secret weapon."

...........................................................

"Wait, why am I here?" Taehyung asked, staring at all of the big, buff men staring back at him.

"Tae, what do Americans like?"

"Uh...flags."

"Got it. Hoseok, write that down."

"And you need to be as extra as possible. Confetti, music, food, you name it," Taehyung continued.

"Perfect! Hoseok, write th-"

"That down, I know," the judge interrupted, his brush moving feverishly.

"Anything else?" The king inquired.

"Uh...be nice, I guess?" Hoseok snorted.

"Noted," Jungkook said, glaring at Hoseok.

"When is the letter dated, Jungkookie?" Tahyung asked.

"About a week ago, so we have another week to wait. "

"Gotcha."

"Okay, Your Majesty, you are now needed in the courtyard," said a council member, trying to usher the king out of the room.

"How unfortunate. Come on, Tae, let's go pick out plant shapes, I suppose," Jungkook said, sighing loudly. Taehyung gasped loudly, feigning offense.

"Pruning bushes to look like butterflies and picking out plant shapes are two entirely different things, Jeon Jungkook," he said. Jungkook rolled his eyes.

"Are you some kind of landscaping aficionado now, hyung?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. I took a Landscape Architecture class in university," he said houghtily.

"Oh my, really?" The king asked, his eyes sparkling with interest.

"No," Taehyung laughed, "but I do have an eye for that sort of thing." Jungkook gaped at him.

"Well, I never!" He said exaggeratedly.

The two men walked hand in hand. The stone path was rough on their dainty palace slippers, as was the cold on their faces. Taehyung's large hand engulfed Jungkook's, almost making it seem like a father was holding their child's hand. He giggled internally at this realization, squeezing the king's hand.

It was just something about his hands. The way they were beautifully calloused with long, lean fingers. The beautiful way his bones danced under his skin. The perfect softness on the top of his hand. The fact that his hands were always cold, no matter what. You would think a king's hand would be baby soft and perfect from years of no use, but his hands were the opposite.

The king squeezed his hand back, making Taehyung feel giddy, but he didn't know why.

"Hyung, your hands are so warm," the young monarch said blissfully. Tae chuckled breathily, placing both of his hands on top of Jungkook's so his fingers didn't fall off.

"Ah, Your Majesty!" The landscaper jogged up to them, smiling warmly.

"Hello, Mr. Kim. I was told I was needed here," the king said politely, squeezing Tae's hand twice more.

"Yes, indeed. We have received temporary plants to place during the president's visit, as all of ours are dead. Which ones would you like us to place?" Mr. Kim gestured to a large array of potted plants, trees, and flowers behind him. There were bright green bushes in every shape imaginable, and each flower was a different color. They would be a brilliant taste of spring in the middle of a gloomy winter.

The king looked at Taehyung, silently asking for his opinion.

"The purple allium, the pink dahlias, the light blue baby's breath, and the tiger topiary would look best together," he answered.

"I like your taste, young man," the landscaper told Tae, writing down his choices.

"Me too," Jungkook whispered.

"Alright, Jungkookie, let's go down some soup and watch the sunset," Taehyung announced abruptly. Jungkook chuckled.

"What's got you in such a hurry tonight, hyung?"

"Hunger, so scootch your bootch," Taehyung answered, pushing Jungkook back down the stone path and towards the dining hall. Jungkook giggled and fought Taehyung.

"Why...are...you...so...strong?" Taehyung strained when he couldn't get the king to budge.

"A king never reveals his secrets, hyung," Jungkook sang, skipping down the path so Taehyug had to jog to catch up. He smiled fondly behind the king's back.

.............................................

"An' I ha' oo ee awo," Taehyng finished.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, hyung. I cannot understand a word you just said," Jungkook scolded.

"Sorry," Taehyung said, swallowing. "And I had to eat alone."

"People let you eat alone?"

"Right?! I'm much too adorable for that to happen." Melodic giggles fell out of the king's mouth, making Tae smile.

"Well...they probably did not notice your adorableness after you put the rubber spider in their food," Jungkook quipped.

"Details, details." Taehyung picked up his bowl and slurped the broth loudly, making Jungkook's eye twitch.

"Must you slurp your soup so loudly?" All he got in response was a longer, louder slurp and a guilty smirk.

"Hyung, the sun has begun to set," Jungkook said, getting up. The sound of his chair scooting across the stone floor was amplified by the empty room, making it ten times louder. Taehyung scooted his chair back as well.

Taehyung wiped his face with his napkin and tossed it on the table, following the king out the door.

"What braid are you doing tonight, hyung?" Jungkook asked once they were settled. Taehyung looked up at the sky, seeing the pinks and oranges swirl together. The sky still looked warm even though the outside wasn't.

"How about two simple French braids?"

"Sounds lovely." Taehyung got to work, starting at the top of Jungkook's head and working down. He pulled gently while still making the braids tight, leaving two small pieces out at the front. Jungkook's hair always felt nice between his fingers.

Taehyung pulled Jungkook closer, partly for his body heat and partly for another reason he couldn't quite place his finger on.

......................................................

It had to be past midnight by now, but that didn't stop our little Christmas elf from creeping around the palace halls. He decorated every fireplace, every tree, every shelf. Pretty much everywhere that used to have free space was now filled with decorations galore.

He laid each of the presents in a star formation, making it as pretty as possible. Ribbon and paper swirled together to make a lovely little illusion. He even set out cookies and milk.

Taehyung jumped and swung around, whipping his head in every direction. He could have sworn he had heard a dog bark, but there were no dogs in the palace.

"TaeTae, old boy, we need to get you to an asylum," he said to himself. With one last glance behind him, he tiptoed back into his bedroom to wait for morning, not noticing the two eyes watching him from across the hallway.

Chapter Text

"Thank you all for being here on such short notice so early," the king began. He had gathered every single member of staff he had into the ballroom at around four in the morning, including guards, maids, landscapers, chefs, you name it.

"As you all can see, the palace has been decorated for Christmas," he continued, "by someone inside the palace." Gasps of shock echoed throughout the room, the staff's facial expressions morphing into ones of confusion and anger.

Sounds of the night snuck in through the large floor-to-ceiling windows on one of the walls. The sun had not even begun to rise yet, so an eerie glow from the candles and oil lamps was cast throughout the room, which was made entirely of elegant emerald green and gold cracked stone.

"This person is under protection from me, the king." Louder gasps of outrage filled the air, and Jungkook tensed.

"Everyone, please calm down. This man is foreign; he would not have had any idea of Catholicism being outlawed here," the king spoke, "therefore, I will be personally protecting him from punishment. This includes martyrdom." Everyone began yelling over each other, trying to get their point across to the king.

"Your Majesty, is that not unfair? Would anyone else be offered protection like this?" A maid accused.

"First of all, I do not believe in prosecuting people for their religion. Second of all, yes, others would be offered protection like this if they had no way of knowing about the ban," the young king answered. The maid rolled her eyes. Jungkook saw, instantly giving her a threatening side eye.

"All of you are sworn to secrecy. We cannot let word get out that there is a Catholic in the palace, am I clear?" The king's voice was louder and more serious this time, instilling fear into the hearts of his staff. They all nodded at him.

"I will say this again: this information stays inside the palace. You will treat this like sensitive war tactic information. If I get wind of this getting out, you will each be questioned by Judge Jung," he gestured to Hoseok, "and the culprit will be severely punished. All the staff members could do was nod once again.

"One last thing before you all may go," the king announced. "You will accept Taehyung-ssi's gifts, compliment his decorations, eat his food happily, and act surprised. Make sure to thank him. You may go now."

Quiet chatter began as everyone shuffled slowly to the door and into the night.

......................................................................

Taehyung shot out of bed, having just heard a shrill scream. He bolted out of bed and ran across the hall to where the noise came from.

"Jungkook?! Are you okay?" He yelled, busting the king's door in. He was met with a doe-eyed crying mess.

"Kook, what's wrong?" He pleaded, stepping closer to Jungkook.

"Hyung...it's so beautiful," he squeaked, pointing at the cross-stitch masterpiece.

"Oh...thank God! You scared me!"

"Sorry, hyungie, I'm just in awe," he answered. Taehyung grinned, his cheeks getting hot.

"I'm glad you like it," Taehyung muttered.

"Like it? This is truly the best gift I have ever received," the young monarch remarked.

"Didn't someone gift you this palace?" Tae replied. Jungkook nodded.

Suddenly, Taehyung had another human in his arms, clinging to him tightly and initiating their third hug ever.

"Thank you," Jungkook whispered. Tae just hugged him tighter.

"I want to hang it up," Jungkook spoke as he and Taehyung pulled apart. "Where do you think it should go?"

"The throne room," Tae answered without hesitation. Jungkook laughed, bunny teeth on full display.

"Throne room it is, then."

...........................................................................................

"Everybody, sing it with me now!" Taehyung screamed from on top of the dining room table, beginning to sing "Jingle Bells."

Jungkook leaned in to one of the kitchen staff and whispered, "Was that eggnog alcoholic?"

"I am afraid so, sire," came the grave response. Shockingly, many people were singing along with Taehyung. The whole staff was sitting at the large wooden table in the dining room, each having opened their cards in front of Taehyung. He was beyond elated at the positive response.

The morning had been nothing short of joyous. Presents were opened, carols were sung, and the Christmas lunch had been served. Was Taehyung now tipsy at noon? Yes, but Jungkook had never found anything more entertaining in his whole life.

Jungkook found himself staring at the beautifully made decorations once more. There was a beautiful, bright green Christmas wreath with glittery gold glass ornaments, round, bold red berries, emerald green ornaments, and tiny candles. A lovely strand of garland hung across the massive fireplace, adorned with perfectly popped white popcorn and cranberries. The pattern of the garland was clear: popcorn, cranberry, cranberry, popcorn.

There were also thirty hand-sewn placemats with tiny snowmen on them in front of a background of green and gold. Taehyung had incorporated the palace colors.

"IN A ONE-HORSE OPEN SLEIGHHHHHHHHHHH!" Taehyung and the crowd finished together. Jungkook clapped wildly for him as Tae took a bow and nearly fell off the table.

"That was incredible," Jungkook said as Taehyung threw his body into his chair.

"I know, I'm a natural-born performer." Jungkook just laughed because the natural-born performer had not been on key once throughout his entire performance.

"Hyung, this morning was truly the best one I have ever had. Thank you," Jungkook said, then kissed him on the cheek. Taehyung turned bright red, spluttering. He turned ever so slowly to gape at Jungkook.

The king was giggling with his nose scrunched and eyes crinkling.

"H-w-y-huh?" Taehyung tried to speak, making Jungkook laugh even harder.

"It was merely a thank-you, hyung."

Right.

Just a thank-you.

"Everyone, let us toast to Taehyungie!" Hoseok announced, rising and raising his glass. Everyone else followed his example.

"To Taehyungie!" They all shouted, all thirty glasses colliding at once, making one loud 'clink'! The boxy smile was back once more.

"You know, hyungie," Jungkook began, "I have a present for you, too." Taehyung cooed and clapped his hands happily.

"Close your eyes," said the king. Tae did as he was told, and he held out his hands as well. Jungkook placed a medium-sized box in Taehyung's hands.

"You can open your eyes," Jungkook said softly, so Taehyung did, and what he saw caught him off guard. In his hands was an absolutely stunning image. There was a box wrapped perfectly in emerald gold wrapping paper that reflected the candlelight. On top of the box was a bright gold ribbon that crossed all four ways and ended in the middle of the box with the most perfect bow Taehyung had ever seen.

"It's too pretty to open," he eventually said.

"Nonsense, you should see what is inside before you deem it too pretty!" Exclaimed the king.

Taehyung gently placed the box in his lap, beginning to untie the ribbon carefully. He then tore open the wrapping paper savagely and lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a book bound traditionally. Taehyung opened it, falling in love with the crackling sound it made. He glanced at the beautiful calligraphy on the pages, in awe of the perfect brushwork.

"It is called 'Beautiful Boys,'" Jungkook told him. "I thought you might enjoy it."

"You thought correctly! This is the most beautiful thing in the world!" Taehyung jumped into Jungkook's arms and breathed deeply, the scent notes of cedar, leather, and musk hitting his nostrils as he buried his face in long, silky, jet-black hair. That was how their fourth hug ever came to be.

.................................................................................

Taehyung sat curled in an easy chair next to the king in the royal sitting room, flames from the massive stone fireplace licking his face. The king was writing documents on something as Tae read his brand-new book.

As it turns out, "Beautiful Boys" is a captivating love story. About two men. A king and a peasant. Taehyung nearly choked when he found that out.

Because I can never love myself the way you love me. Taehyung's heart shattered as the king in the book confessed rawly to the peasant, and he had to cover his mouth to keep from letting out a sob. Jungkook looked up from his work, clearly amused.

"What page are you on currently, hyung?"

"T-two seventy-eight," Taehyung sniffled.

"Ah, the confession," the young monarch said knowingly. Taehyung nodded, wiping his tears.

"It's just so real."

"I know," Jungkook agreed. "It is the fact that a man said that for me. People think that men cannot feel as strongly as women merely because we are men. Toxic masculinity has become an issue in today's society."

"So true!" Taehyung exclaimed. "People think I can't cry at 'The Notebook' just because I'm a guy. Guess what, bitches, it gets me every time!"

"What is 'The Notebook', hyung?" Shit, he had done it again.

"It's...uh...a play. It's a play." Nice save, Taehyung, he muttered to himself.

"You shall have to act it out for me sometime," Jungkook concluded. Taehyung just nodded and went back to his book.

The next time Tae looked up from his book, he felt a pair of eyes staring at him intently. As soon as he moved his head to make eye contact, his eyes looked away.

"What were you looking at, Jungkookie?" Taehyung teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I thought the painting behind you was crooked," Jungkook said without hesitation, not looking up from his work. Brat, Taehyung thought. He was totally looking at Taehyung.

"There you guys are!" A cheerful voice exclaimed happily. Soft footsteps were heard, then a moment later, Hoseok appeared, and a bright smile adorned his face.

"Would you mind terribly if I stole Jungkook from you, Taehyungie? It will only be a moment," he said.

"Sure thing, hyung," Tae replied, going back to his book.

Jungkook groaned as he got up, leaving the dimly lit cozy room with Hoseok. They walked for a while until Hoseok was certain they were far enough out of earshot.

"Nabi is here," Hoseok said. It took the king a few seconds to process this, but realization soon set in on his face.

"What?" The king spat.

"She is in the palace, and she is asking to speak with you."

"I asked her not to show up for a while, hyung! And she cannot just... bombard me with questions about the engagement whilst I am working," Jungkook ranted, panting. His eyes were shaking as they looked around crazily, a telltale sign that he was becoming angry.

"What would you like me to tell her?" Hoseok asked, used to the king's sudden outbursts.

"Tell her I will meet with her," the king sighed, "because if I ignore her, she will keep coming back.” Hoseok nodded and began walking away, his silk slippers silently gliding across the stone hallway.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, at a loss. This was one of those rare times when he hadn't a single clue what to do. Nabi was an excellent actress; he knew this. She acted as though she truly loved him easily, as if she was accustomed to being in a situation like this. The king, however, saw right through her facade because he was quite used to people wanting to be by his side for money and power.

The young monarch began to make his way back to Taehyung, his footsteps not nearly as delicate as Hoseok's. The glowing light of the fire illuminated the other man's profile beautifully as he read, causing him to appear like the sun itself was hugging him.

"Hyung," the younger said quietly. The slightly older man looked up from his book, turning his body to face the king who had just shown up in the doorway.

"Someone needs to speak with me urgently. I shall return soon," the king continued. Taehyung nodded, muttering a quick "See you later" and returning to his book.

This is going to be fun, the king thought.

Chapter Text

"Nabi," the king greeted with false politeness in his voice. Bae Nabi sat elegantly in the council room, waiting for him with a smirk that Jungkook wanted nothing more than to wipe off her stupidly perfect symmetrical face, adorned with the black non-seethrough glasses she never took off.

When Jungkook saw her hanbok, his stomach dropped. She was already adorned in silky emerald green and gold, perfectly tailored to fit her body. Her lovely black hair was tightly bound into a flawless jjok meori. Worst of all about her appearance was the large emerald stone sitting on a gold band placed on her left ring finger.

"Ah, Jungkook," she regarded. Icy claws scraped at the king's spine when she said his name.

"I was notified that you would like to speak," he said as he sat down in the seat across from Nabi.

"You were notified correctly. I would like to plan our wedding." The king's eyes shot up at that. "Ah, I see I got your attention," Nabi smirked.

"Forgive me, but what the fuck? Since when does that classify as urgent, Nabi?"

"Jeon Jungkook!" She yelled shrilly. "Who taught you such improper language? You may not speak to me that way!" The king just laughed.

"I think you are forgetting to whom you are speaking, Nabi-ssi. Not only that, but you are not yet queen; therefore, you have no right to tell me anything." Nabi gasped in offense.

"Well, I never! I only came here to have a polite conversation." The king threw his head back and laughed wildly, wiping a tear from his eye as his shrill laughter filled the room. Nabi stared at him like he was crazy.

"When have you ever had that intention, Nabi?" he laughed. "You just want to receive all of your expensive wedding gifts as soon as possible, but you mustn't be greedy."

"JUNGKOOK!" she roared. The king shot out of his chair and reached across the table, ever so gently putting one finger to Nabi's lips.

"Never, ever yell at me again," he said harshly, then sat back down. Nabi's eyes were wide for a minute before turning back into her normal resting bitch face.

"Why, pray tell, are you treating me this way?" Nabi wailed. "You never spoke like this before." The young monarch rolled his eyes at the fake tears.

"I beg of you, stop playing victim. It truly gives me a headache," the king began, rubbing his temples, "And I recently realized that first of all, I am the king and do not have to deal with disrespect. Second of all, I met someone who made me realize that I do not deserve to be treated as you treat me. This is merely my retaliation."

"Who told you you were special, your little boyfriend?" Nabi sneered.

"I believe that's quite enough. There will be no wedding preparations until after Seollal. I do not expect to hear from you until then," the king said coolly. Nabi stomped out, slamming the door behind her.

The king sighed loudly, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet on the table as he rubbed his temples.

"Bitch," he muttered.

.....................................................................

"And you just, pow, shut her right up?!" Taehyung asked enthusiastically. Jungkook had returned to the living room, draping his body sideways over his chair as he recounted the events of his conversation to Hoseok and Taehyung. The latter was very into it, acting out all the scenes dramatically.

Hoseok snorted and took another sip of his eggnog. "Deserved," he said. Taehyung nodded.

"I am not so sure about that. Was I not too harsh?" The king worried.

"Not at all, dear, not at all," Hoseok reassured him. "Honestly, I was wondering when you were going to snap." Jungkook nodded thoughtfully.

"I think you were really badass," Tae added.

"Here he goes again with that odd language of his," Hoseok sighed. Taehyung pouted at him.

"Cheer up, Tae, Hoseok judges everyone," the king said, pulling a laugh out of Tae. Taehyung stared at the colorful quilt strewn across the king's lap, each square a different vibrant color.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Mine?” The king answered, stopping to think for a moment. “My favorite color is purple because I love how it can be happy or melancholy, depending on the person, context, and the shade.”

“...Wow.” Taehyung sat there staring at Jungkook in awe, floored by the depth of his answer. He had never really taken the time to think about why he liked his favorite color before, and he felt a bit inferior to the intelligent young man in front of him.

“What is your favorite color, hyung?” Taehyung was silent for a few seconds, embarrassed that his answer would never be able to compare to Jungkook’s.

“My favorite color is purple too…because it’s pretty,” Taehyung answered, looking down as his cheeks turned red.

“Like you,” Jungkook whispered, leaning closer to Taehyung. Hoseok nodded at Jungkook discreetly, then closed his eyes. Taehyung could feel Jungkook’s hot breath on his ear, and he wanted more. He wanted to feel more. To be closer to the king.

"I think Hoseok is falling asleep," Jungkook whispered into Tae's ear. Damn it. So close.

The two turned to look at Hoseok, whose head was indeed beginning to droop. Jungkook got up and covered Hoseok with the quilt.

"I think we should head to my quarters so we do not wake him up," the king said, so quietly that Tae had to lean closer to hear him. Jungkook put the fire out and silently glided out of the room. Taehyung followed Jungkook, tiptoeing across the room and into the cold night. The stone was slick with ice, so Taehyung was praying that the king did not fall on his royal ass.

Jungkook gasped as something cold touched the back of his hand.

"What is it, Jungkookie?" Taehyung asked, moving to walk beside the king.

"Hyung, look, snowlace!" The king squealed. Taehyung chuckled when he saw the tiny slowflake on Jungkook's hand.

"I've never seen snow on Christmas, Jungkookie, you must be special."

"I guess I am."

"Brat," Taehyung said, but he was smiling a giant, boxy smile. The glow of the moon illuminated the king's features, from his perfect nose, beautiful cheekbones, doe eyes, and small but full lips, drowning out all of the cold outside with the glorious warmth radiating from him.

He took Taehyung's breath away.

Jungkook pushed open his bedroom doors, and warmth enveloped them. The fireplace was lit, giving the purple room with dark stained wood a hazy glow. It smelled of vanilla and powdery fresh cotton, much different than Jungkook's body scent.

Taehyung needed to remember the king's glow from tonight.

"Jungkookie?"

"Hmm?" the king hummed, turning around. Taehyung's Adam's apple bobbed as he looked into Jungkook's chocolate eyes.

"Do you have painting supplies?" Taehyung asked. The king nodded, then proceeded to whisper to the guard stationed outside his door.

"They will arrive soon," the king remarked. Tae smiled warmly, basking in the scent of Jungkook. Just then, a knock on the hardwood door echoed throughout the large room.

The king answered the door. When he turned around, his arms were graced with a humongous box of art supplies.

"That was fast," Tae said, eyebrow raised.

"It was in the supply closet next door," the king said casually. "Don't look at me like that, I'm lazy." Taehyung giggled. Jungkook got down on one knee, holding the box above his head with shaking arms. "Your supplies, my liege."

Taehyung took the box happily. "Thank you, kind sir," he said dramatically.

"What is it you want to paint, hyung?"

"You."

The king draped himself across the plush velvet chair in his room, legs hanging off one armrest and head lying on the other. He pulled a cherry out of his pocket (don't ask Tae how it got there; he had no clue), and dangled it above his mouth.

"How's this?" he asked.

"Perfect," Taehyung replied, and he began setting up his canvas. The gold on the king's hanbok sparkled in the firelight, so Taehyung added that to the painting.

The only sounds in the room were the crackling of fire, breathing, and the gentle sound of Tae's brush gliding skillfully across the painting. The colors were mixed perfectly on his palette first, then turned into Jungkook's body on the canvas. Greens, golds, and tans swirled together.

Layer after layer of paint, the king stayed perfectly still and let himself be turned into art. He watched Tae as he painted, the way he kept a clean paintbrush behind his ear, the way his tongue stuck out ever so slightly out of the left corner of his mouth as he focused.

As Taehyung began putting the finishing shading on the painting, something struck him. He quickly added shiny, high-heeled, black leather stillettos on the king's feet. It was finished.

"Jungkookie, I'm finished," Tae announced. The king shot up and bounced over to the painting. The millisecond he laid his eyes on it, he gasped. It was even better than a photograph. He looked at himself, eyes sparkling and beauty apparent. Was that really how Taehyung saw him?

"Hyung, I...I have no words," Jungkook said after a while.

"Does that mean you like it?"

"Like it?! This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen!" Taehyung's eyes sparkled as he pulled Jungkook in for their fifth hug. When they released, Taehyung flopped on the king's mattress headfirst.

"Goodnight, my prince," the king whispered, putting the fire out and lying next to him.

.....................................................................

"Mark my words, we are all going to die," the king said as he paced around his bedroom.

"Jungkook, you're scaring the children," Taehyung mumbled sleepily from the bed.

"What children?"

"Me," Taehyung grouched, turning onto his other side. Jungkook rolled his eyes, then proceeded to continue his pacing just to piss Taehyung off like the lovely person he was.

"What warrants pacing at five in the morning, anyway?" Taehyung bitched.

"The president is on his way," the king answered.

Oh boy.

Chapter Text

Jungkook went all out. There was an entire room filled with American and Korean food, traditional American music, and lots and lots of flags. It looked like the Fourth of July had thrown up in the courtyard. Jungkook

had checked over every single detail personally, walking around with a scroll and brush to check every item off his list. Yeah, the king was a psycho.

The king, the guards, and the band were currently practicing the president's entrance, fanfares playing while Jungkook tried to walk "coolly." Taehyung had grinned like a proud mother when he said that, as Tae had only taught the king that word the day before.

"Wait!" the king shouted, and everyone in the parade halted instantly. "It seems as if I was out of line. My greatest apologies." Everyone nodded forgivingly at the king, and they went again. Jungkook was fully decked out in his finest hanbok, the crown jewels, and a traditional hat.

Tae watched as the king breathed. Not in a weird way, it was just cold enough that he could see everyone's breath in the air.

After one last great American fanfare, everyone looked satisfied, and they all broke out of line at the king's command.

"Hey," Jungkook said breathlessly, making his way over to the stone bench Taehyung was perched delicately on. Okay, fine, he was manspreading.

"Hey." Really, Tae, that was your best comeback?! The young man smacked himself internally, but Jungkook didn't seem to notice as he still gave Tae the same bunny smile he always did.

"How was it?"

"Amazing, Kooks. The Americans are going to love you. Jungkook grinned even bigger, which Tae didn't think was possible. Seriously, his cheeks had to hurt.

Clip clop, clip clop. The king froze.

"Jungkookie, go get 'em," Tae said, pushing Jungkook forward a little. He nodded, waving everyone to get into position.

The giant, fifty-foot gates of the palace opened slowly but mightily. It looked like something straight out of Jurassic Park.

The entire parade of the king, guards, and band marched forward with the king leading. America's national anthem began playing as the king tried to look calm as he walked. All fifty of the parade members were almost gliding across the stone; the gray hanbok of the palace staff and the green and gold hanbok of the king and his advisors blew beautifully in the wind.

The president stepped grandly out of the carriage, immediately surrounded by bodyguards the second his toes touched the ground. His entire front was decorated in military awards and pins on his perfectly pressed navy blue suit. Yes, this was Ulysses S. Grant, standing at the front gate of Joseon Palace.

The king halted, got on his knees, and bowed deeply to show respect.

"Mr. President," the king said from his bow in religiously practiced English, "welcome to Korea."

The president seemed...unimpressed by the decorations. His face remained in a straight line as he set his eyes on all the work the king put in to make him feel welcome. He didn't even return Jungkook's bow, a major sign of disrespect, especially because the leader of the entire nation got ON HIS KNEES FOR HIM. He merely nodded, milling about the courtyard.

"Shall we begin, Mr. President, or would you prefer a night to adjust?" Jungkook said, walking gracefully over to where the president was standing by the food table.

Scoffing, the president replied with a sharp, hostile, "We can begin tomorrow. I need rest to deal with you." The king nodded, bowing more shallowly this time.

"I see, I will have Ms. Yuri here show you to your quarters when you are ready." Another nod. The king spun around on his heels, walking back to Taehyung with an expressionless face.

"You okay?" Taehyung whispered when the king was close enough. He began to nod, but immediately shook his head, his lip jutting out. Tae pulled him in for a hug, gently rubbing his back. "Let's get out of here," he whispered into Jungkook's ear. Jungkook took his hand, and they began their retreat to the safety of Jungkook's quarters.

Away from the prying eyes of another world leader, the nineteen-year-old broke down, being held gently by Taehyung.

"I-I do not know why I am so upset," he sobbed. "He did not do anything mean. I believe it may be because I had hopes this would go differently."

"I know, I know, shh." Taehyung gently lay the king in his lap, playing with his hair as silent tears rolled down the king's face. "This is hard, huh?" Tae asked softly. Jungkook nodded. "Aish, Kookie, it'll be okay. I think you just need a break. You were up awfully late, and you got up super early. Maybe your exhaustion is part of this."

"I do not want to be married, hyung," Jungkook said, so softly that Taehyung almost didn't catch it. All the older man could do was kiss Junkook's head and keep playing with his hair until he finally fell into a deep, albeit restless, sleep. Troubled, Taehyung lay down next to him, rubbing the younger's back while his thoughts went a thousand miles per minute.

"How is he?" Hoseok whispered later, carefully creaking open the door. Taehyung picked his head up, hair sticking out in all directions.

"He'll be okay," he replied, voice deeper than usual. Hoseok nodded, making his way into the room, silently closing the door behind him. He carefully perched himself on the ground at the base of the king's mattress, rubbing Jungkook's feet.

Words were not needed between Tae and Hoseok. They already knew the most important thing. The teenager in front of them was their baby, and they would do anything they could to protect him.

.............................................................

When Jungkook awoke, he had an entire Taehyung half on top of him and a whole Hoseok draped across his feet. His heart warmed at the moment, and he wished he had a better way to preserve it than his memory. Memories fade, after all.

The king rubbed his dry, raw eyes, used to the feeling. The young man was no stranger to crying himself to sleep nowadays. He had a whole bunch of people doing most of the country-running for him, and he was doing a bad enough job. How could he ever handle it on his own? Especially with a queen he didn't love by his side forever?

Speaking of the devil, Nabi had upheld her end of the deal so far. The king hadn't heard from her since she visited the palace. If only it could stay that way, the king thought dejectedly. The covers began to rustle beside him.

"Jungkooke?" Taehyung murmured, eyes still closed. His hair was nearly sticking straight up, and the crisp silk sheets were tangled around his body.

"Hey, hyung," Jungkook said, turning over to face the older man. Tae smiled at him, but didn't open his eyes. "How did you-"

The king was cut off by a giant, honking snore from Hoseok. Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other and burst out laughing. To Taehyung, there was no way to describe Jungkook's laugh. Audible sunshine, maybe? Nope. Still not good enough.

"Hey, hyung?" Jungkook questioned once they had calmed down.

"Yeah, Kooks?" Taehyung groaned as he sat up with Jungkook.

"How would you like to get disguised and prowl about the town with me? I need to get out of the palace." A giant, boxy smile graced the features of the twenty-one-year-old.

"Let me think, yes!"

Their disguises were, to say the least, ridiculous. Taehyung's hair was covered by a headscarf that matched his feminine hanbok. His face was absolutely caked with makeup, making him look sort of like a normal old woman. He was practicing speaking with a "hoity toity" accent. Jungkook was no better. He wore a large, curly mustache on his lip, a large farmer's hat, and commoner's hanbok.

However, it took quite a bit of begging to convince the guards to open the gates.

"Oh, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease," the two young men said at the same time, puppy dog faces on. The guards remained as stoic as ever, making Taehyung want to go into fight mode.

"Wait, Jungkookie," he gasped suddenly, "you're the king."

"Oh heavens, I am! Guards, open the gates!" The guards did as they were told because it was illegal to disobey the king, even if one was older than him. The creaking of the gates sparked excitement in the veins of the young king and his old prisoner. "Bye-what was that word you taught me?" The king asked, stepping closer to the gates, holding Tae's hand.

"Bitches."

"Bye, bitches!" Off they skipped into Jungkook's beautiful streets.

The sky was a lovely, clear blue with perfect white marshmallows floating in it. It contrasted splendidly with the dark green color of the mountains in the distance. Though it was still cold because it was the end of December, the town itself was bustling despite the chill in the air.

Market stalls were busy as ever. Hot food and drinks were being sold as well as the normal products. Mostly women crowded the market, some with small children running around as they did their shopping. Everyone looked happy and at peace.

"Wow..." the king said berathlessly. "It's amazing." The small one-story stone townhouses were amazing to him. People in not-so-fresh hanbok were amazing to him. The cacophony of noise was amazing to him.

"Amazing, indeed." The two men pranced around the market in their most lady-like fashion, stopping to pat all the children on the head. "Oh my, look at these!" Tae said, trying to make his voice high-pitched. He dragged a very confused king behind him until they arrived at the stall that caught Tae's eye.

"Beautiful," Jungkook muttered. The stall was filled with the most beautiful pottery, ranging from colorful to beige. Each piece reflected the love put into it proudly. There were paintings of tigers, butterflies, landscapes, and so much more, each made by hand.

"We have to get one," Taehyung announced.

"Much agreed." After some bickering, they decided on a beautiful medium-sized one with a creative depiction of the palace itself.

"Let's get food," Taehyung said after buying the art.

"I was beginning to wonder when you would mention that. I know just the place." The king and his peasant strolled the short distance to the river, where there was a small hut with steam coming out of the chimney. Outside was a small dock and a few picnic tables facing the water.

"This is it?" Taehyung asked. He had a point. The place looked like nothing.

"Trust me, it is a vital experience," the king replied, taking a seat at one of the tables. Taehyung sat across from him.

"Oh, hello!" An old man with a very warm smile walked out of the hut, carrying two plates of fish. "Here is fresh catch. Caught today myself," he said. The two young men smiled, thanked him, and paid him the small amount of money they had left.

As he took his first bite, Tae's eyes widened, and he immediately took another bite. Jungkook chuckled.

"Holy shit, that's amazing," Taehyung said with his mouth full.

"I am pleased you are enjoying it, but please close your mouth," the king chastised gently. Taehyung tried to laugh, but he inhaled a piece of fish instead. He began hacking wildly. Jungkook shot up and slapped him on the back a few times until the piece of fish came out.

Tae wheezed, his eyes watering.

"Now, Taehyung, that was not very lady-like." They both cackled together. That night, they watched the sunset from the docks, Taehyung happily braiding the king's hair.

Chapter Text

Taehyung's soul left his body first thing the next morning when the door to his bedroom slammed open.

"Oh my, my apologies, Tae, I did not mean to wake you," a voice said as Tae stared at the figure sleepily. "Your hair desperately needs some work," it giggled. Hoseok hyung.

"Where's Jungkookie?" Taehyung asked in his deep morning voice as he sat up and stretched. His bones crackled loudly as he moved them. Hoseok sucked his teeth and stepped further into the green room, closing the door behind him.

"He is in the courtroom. He has been in there for a few hours now."

"Shit, is he okay?" Hoseok hesitated, then shook his head.

"It is not going as well as we had hoped," the judge continued, sitting on Tae's bed.

"How bad?"

"President Grant has hardly stopped yelling at the poor king. Our Jungkookie has done an impressive job at keeping his cool, but one can only hold on so long before snapping." Taehyung nodded, brushing his hair back in thought.

"What are you doing out here, hyung? You're the judge, you need to be helping him," Taehyung finally said. Hoseok grimaced again.

"President Grant asked that everyone leave so he and the king could discuss things on their own." Tae made a squeaking noise, his heart floating right up to his throat.

"But hyung, Kookie is not yet fluent in English. Sure, he's good at it, but there are words he doesn't understand! Does he have a translator?" Hoseok shook his head.

"The translator was female," Hoseok stated gravely, "and of color, therefore the president did not trust her."

"Sometimes I forget what the world was like," Taehyung spat. "I'll be his translator. Take me to him."

"Alright, Tae, but we must wait for an intermission. The president despises being interrupted. We cannot sabotage the little chance we have left of this going well." Taehyung nodded, so Hoseok took him to the courtroom once he was changed. As soon as they were within hearing distance, shouts graced the ears of the two young men.

"They're dead!" someone screamed in English, "Nothing you offer can bring them back! I have the right to be angry!"

"My apologies, Mr. President, but I do not understrand."

"IT'S UNDERSTAND!" the president roared. "LEARN YOUR ENGLISH, YOU LITTLE JERK! Do you know how much disrespect you are showing me?" The king scoffed internally, fighting every urge to say something impolite. After all, the president made no effort to learn conversational Korean.

Look at this, the king thought. A nineteen-year-old is a thousand times better at pretending to keep his cool than a fully grown man.

"Oh, hyung..."

"I know, Tae," Hoseok answered, pulling Taehyung in for a hug. "It is not going very well."

"I call a recess," the king announced. He creaked the large, heavy, hardwood doors open gently and left the fuming president without another word.

His eyes lit up as soon as he saw Taehyung and Hoseok, and he instantly jogged over to them.

"Oh, heavens, I am so glad to see you two!"

"We're glad to see you, too, Jungkookie," Taehyung said softly. "I am so proud of you for keeping your cool."

"For now," the king muttered. He was sick of tolerating disrespect.

"Oh, Jungkookie," Tae began, "I am here to be your translator."

"Oh my, really?!" The king squeezed Taehyung's hand, a bunny smile forming on his face. "You would do that?"

"Duh," Tae responded sassily.

"Hyung, do you have any ribbon?"

"Oh, hell yeah," Taehyung said, pulling a strand out of the pocket of his hanbok. He handed it to Jungkook, who then proceeded to tie his long, black hair into a ponytail.

"It's about to go down, bitches!" Taehyung screamed. Jungkook took a long, deep breath.

"Best of luck, you two," Hoseok said. The two young men nodded and strutted into the courtroom, not looking back a single time.

.......................................................

"NO!" the president screamed. "I WILL NOT TAKE YOUR MONEY!" He slammed his fist on the table, causing everyone's water glass to shake dangerously. Jungkook whispered in Tae's ear.

"The king says: I do not know what to tell you, Mr. President. I have offered you near everything I have. We need to come to a compromise," Taehyung translated.

The king was glaring at the president now. They were sitting on opposite sides of a long, darkly stained wooden table in an otherwise empty wooden room. The king's right eye twitched now and then as he gripped Taehyung's hand under the table.

"YOU TELL THAT BRAT I WANT EVERYTHING HE HAS! I WANT HIM TO PAY, AND I DON'T WANT HIM TO HEAR IT NICELY FROM A LITTLE F*G!"

"ENOUGH!" The king screamed, slamming his fist on the table, effectively making the president jump. Jungkook stood up and walked over to the president. He never sat down, causing him to tower over the other man.

"I may not know English very well," he began venomously, "but I know enough to say the following: I will not tolerate any more disrespect. I am also the leader of a country, and you will treat me as such. I have too many people belittling me, and that stops now." He then looked pleadingly over to Taehyung, who made his way over to the two others so he could translate for the king.

"King Jeon states that if you are going to handle this like a child, he is going to treat you like one," Taehyung began. "He says--Jungkook, that's not nice. He says that you may either accept one of his attempts at compensation or you may return to America with nothing." The president let out a low, menacing growl.

"I will be leaving Korea in an hour," the president barked. "Mark my words, you will regret this," he announced before storming out.

"Good riddance," Taehyung muttered.

"I could never imagine acting so childish in a court setting!" said the king. "That man makes my blood boil! Why, I was not even king when that terrible event took place, and it is not like we were just out for blood!" Taehyung nodded, his brain blanking on what to respond with.

"Your Majesty?" Hoseok questioned. Jungkook's head shot up. Hoseok never called him Your Majesty. "There are two people in the room near the front gate requesting to see you urgently." The king groaned loudly, but followed Hoseok nonetheless.

"See you later," Taehyung whispered to no one.

Jungkook followed Hoseok down the horrid, treacherous path of completely flat stone, wrapping his arms around his body for warmth. The winter's breath was ruthless this afternoon, never ceasing its blowing.

"Jungkookie, this is my cue," Hoseok said, turning around. He stood at the entrance of the meeting room for the higher class. Inside, the king knew his eyes would be met with the finest porcelain laid carefully with the finest china and silverware. Scoffing people in hanbok, only second to his own, would complain to him about everything they thought was wrong with the kingdom.

"I shall meet with you and Taehyung soon," the young monarch muttered, then disappeared into the room of finery.

"Oh, there he is!" squeaked a woman with a posh accent.

"Just the boy we wanted to see!" This time, the voice was male. The king padded across the grand wooden floor tentatively. It was unusual not to greet the king with a royal greeting.

Under the light of the extravagant diamond chandelier, the king saw them.

Bae Nabi's parents.

The king swallowed so fast, he nearly choked on his spittle. Be polite, Jungkook, the young man thought to himself.

"Oh, my, hello," the king said, bowing at a ninety-degree angle. "I did not know you would be at the palace today." That was the best he could muster.

"Oh, how could we not?!" Nabi's mother grinned, taking a sip of her tea. The king sat elegantly across from her, stirring the contents of his own cup with a silver teaspoon.

"Yes, we were invited to help with wedding preparations!" The king coughed once, carefully placing his teaspoon down.

"Oh-I suppose I was not aware, Mr. Bae."

"Not to worry, son," the man answered, "I, too, get dates mixed up."

"You'll have to forgive him, Father." An icy, high-pitched voice bounced off all the china in the room. hitting the young monarch's eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. "The king can be a little...ignorant." Bae Nabi emerged from the shadows, her heels clacking menacingly on the floor. Her green and gold hanbok glittered in the chandelier light, as did her hair and her ring.

She waltzed over to the king and kissed him wetly on the cheek before sitting down beside him.

"We may begin," said she.

"Here, dear," Mrs. Bae whispered into the young man's ear. "I know how dry these things can become for the menfolk, so take a little extra honey in your tea." She dipped her teaspoon into the reddish substance, glooping a good amount of it into the king's tea.

"Thank you very much," the king responded, gratefully taking a sip of his tea. He did not want to seem indulgent, so he was grateful the woman gave him sugar. He would need it if he were to keep his cool.

Nabi and her mother's words began to blur together. The king's head swayed to the soft music playing in the room. His eyes began to droop slowly, but he caught himself each time.

Come on, Hoseokkkkkkkkkk, the king thought, come saveeeeeeeeeee meeeeeeeee.

"Ooh, we shall use red roses and baby's breath for the bouquet," Nabi exclaimed.

"Lovely idea," said her father absentmindedly. You can handle this, Jungkook. It's not real, he told himself. This doesn't mean anything.

"We need those exotic violins for the reception," Mrs. Bae mused. "It will all be so romantic, like a dream." Nabi nodded and reached out for the king's hand.

As soon as their fingers touched, Jungkook's pulse sped up. His vision blurred in and out, and the room swayed.

Was he...

He couldn't be.

Not with her.

"Sounds..." that's the last thing the king murmured before his head slammed down onto the table with a thud, rattling all of the teacups.

"Night night, king."

..........................................................

"I miss Jungkoooooooookiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee," Taehyung whined. He was lying on the same couch that he king was perched on on Christmas night, but his head was upside-down.

"I am aware, Tae, you have announced that fact nonstop for the five minutes he has been gone," Hoseok sighed, going back to his book.

"I don't know what to do without him," the younger pouted.

"This is no different than any other day," Hoseok said, this time more sympathetically. "What do you usually do when he leaves?"

"Wait for him to get back," Taehyung squeaked. Hoseok sighed.

"Whyever are you so on edge, dear?"

"I just have a weird feeling, hyung," Tae admitted.

"Everything is alright, Tae," Hoseok reassured him. "The king is just visiting with someone on the other side of the palace. Nothing can go badly."

Oh, how wrong he was.

Chapter Text

"What's taking him so long?" Taehyung pouted. He had resorted to lying face down on the rug in front of Hoseok's feet, even though the rough material was bothering his face and the faded colors smelled like dust.

Hoseok's sigh drowned out the crackling of the fire for a moment.

"I have no idea, meetings never take this long," he finally replied. Taehyung just groaned miserably in response.

"Cheer up, dear. It shan't be too much longer," Hoseok reassured nonchalantly. Finally, the younger grew sick of lying down and got up to stretch his legs. His gentle footsteps sounded on the wooden floors of the hallway.

Looking out of the large floor-to-ceiling window, Taehyung watched as tiny snowflakes glided through the air and onto the stone pathways and landscaping outside the palace. The snow-what did Jungkook call it? Snowlace?-dusted the freshly planted roses, making a beautiful contrast of deep red and bright white. It reminded Taehyung of Jungkook.

If Taehyung had the soft beauty of baby's breath, soft, beautiful, and pretty to look at, Jungkook had the elegant beauty of a blood-red rose dusted in freshly fallen snow lace. Beautiful, elegant, untouchable. The sharp, eye-catching magnificence that one couldn't help but stare at.

Taehyung sat down on the floor, his head resting on his knees as the cold of the wood seeped its way into his bones. He watched as each unique piece of water fell from the sky, wishing desperately that he wasn't watching the winter wonder alone.

.............................................................

"It was simply genius to put the mad honey in the king's tea, Nabi-ah," Nabi's father praised her. Her mother nodded in agreement, carefully preparing the ink, brush, and paper in front of the king. The king's head now rested on his limp arm that was stretched across the table. His breathing was labored, but his face looked peaceful.

"Do you have the other document for comparison, Mother?" the young woman asked. The younger Ms. Bae nodded, handing the crinkly yellow paper over to her daughter. Nabi studied the neat black signature at the bottom carefully. The signature was nothing short of beautiful. All of the letters were curly, bubbly, and slanted. Perfect calligraphy.

전정국 폐하 (His Majesty Jeon Jungkook)

Nabi studied every curve, every slant, until she was sure she could do it perfectly. Tentatively dipping the brush in the ink, she began to sign the document in front of her with the king's signature, being careful to splatter the ink every now and then like the king.

"Why, Nabi," her mother gasped, "it is perfect."

"I agree," said her father, wiping a tear from his eyes. "I simply cannot believe my little daughter is a married woman. Nabi smirked at that, planting a kiss on the king's head with her cold lips.

"Well, then, I believe it is time," Mrs. Bae chirped. Nabi's father nodded.

"Aaaaaaaaand...go!" he whisper-shouted.

"OH MY!" Nabi shrieked loudly. "HELP! THE KING HAS FAINTED!" The guards who were guarding the door burst in, slamming the doors open and rattling the china.

"What happened?!" the buffer one yelled.

"I...I haven't the slightest. He must have gotten too overwhelmed with joy!" Nabi pretended to wipe tears from her eyes. The guards nodded.

"Well, I suppose we shall have to carry him to his quarters," the thinner guard announced.

"Yes, I suppose so," replied the buffer one.

"Oh, Jungkookie!" Nabi cried shrilly. The parents both looked sadly at the young king as he was hoisted into the bridal position.

"Poor lad," Mr. Bae remarked. "I, too, felt woozy at the idea of marriage at nineteen."

"You can return tomorrow if His Majesty is feeling up to it," the smaller guard said. The Baes all nodded and followed the guards out the door, each kissing goodbye on his cheek.

"Wait, Mrs Jeon!" the guard carrying the young monarch called out. Nabi whipped her head around.

"Yes, sir?"

"Since you are the queen, you have the right to stay in the palace."

"Oh!" Nabi feigned surprise. "I hadn't even thought of that! I suppose I can stay with him," she said. "Goodbye, Mother, goodbye Father," Nabi said. She then turned around and followed the guard without another word.

...................................

Taehyung heard footsteps echoing in the hallway. He jumped up, heart beating faster.

"FINALLY!" he yelled, running towards the culprit of the footsteps. "Jungkookie, I missed y-" he halted when he saw the person, definitely NOT Jungkook, standing in front of him.

"Are you Kim Taehyung?" he asked gruffly.

"I-yes," Taehyung stammered.

"Yourself and Jung Hoseok are to be notified that the king is ill." Taehyung's heart stopped.

"Ill?! What do you mean, he's ill? What's wrong?!" The guard sighed impatiently.

"The king has fainted, Taehyung-ssi."

"W. H. A. T?! OH MY GOSH!!!! TAKE ME TO HIM!"

"I am not allowed to, Taehyung-ssi."

"Well, why not?!"

"His wife has ordered that no one be let into his bedroom while he recovers.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow your motherfucking role. What do you mean, his wife? What the fuck? He doesn't have a wife!" Taehyung yelled.

"As of this afternoon, he does. You will be allowed to see him tomorrow if he and his wife allow him." The guard spun on his heels and began back down the hallway, leaving Taehyung a mess in front of the window.

"HYUNG!" he screamed. Hoseok came sprinting, throwing his book against the wall.

"Taehyungie, whatever is the problem?!" he asked, looking Taehyung up and down to see if anything was seriously wrong.

"Jungkookfaintedandthisguardwon'tletusseehimbecausehiswifesaidsoandapparentlyhegotmarriedthisafternoon."

"What?"

"I said, Jungkook fainted, and this guard won't let us see him because his wife said so, and apparently he got married this afternoon."

"Once again, what?"

"I don't know, hyung, fix it!" Taehyung said, stomping his feet worriedly.

"There is no way that brat would have gotten married without telling me," Hoseok mused. "Something is fishy, Tae, and we are going to find out."

Taehyung and Hoseok dashed through the cold to the king's quarters, only for their ears to be met with screaming once they reached it.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Jungkook.

"Silly Jungkookie, you must be tired. You would never yell at your wife, would you?"

"OH, FUCK OFF!" the king screamed. "GUARDS!" The guards at his door had no choice but to burst into the room; after all, the king had much more leverage than the queen.

"Get her out of here, and find Taehyungie hyung and Hoseok hyung," he commanded. One of the guards made an uneasy sound.

"Are you sure, Your Majesty? Do you really want your wife to leave?"

"She is not my wife!" the king cried, softer and quieter this time, almost pleading.

"...Okay. Come on, Your Majesty, we shall give His Majesty some space." Taehyung and Hoseok burst in the second Nabi left angrily.

"HYUNGS!" Jungkook ran into their arms, and they both hugged him tightly. "I am not married, am I?"

"I don't know, Jungkookie," Taehyung answered from the hug. "But everyone sure seems to think so."

"I do not know how I got into my quarters," the king thought aloud.

"You fainted," Hoseok told him.

"Hmm."

"Jungkookie, you can totally do better than that piece of trash."

"Taehyungie hyung! You cannot say that!" the king laughed.

"Hyung, you're a judge," Taehyung realized. The said man nodded. "Take Kooks to the courtroom, grill him, and see what you get out of him."

"I will not be roasting my friend!"

"Hyung, it just means interrogate, keep up!" Taehyung said playfully.

"Oh, I suppose so, then. What is the last thing you remember?"

"Mrs. Bae put honey in my tea, and Nabi and her began to speak of flowers and violins for the wedding," said the king.

"I see. Is that why you were meeting with them? Wedding preparations?" The young monarch nodded.

"Were you already engaged before this meeting?"

"Yes, but not by choice," the king answered, grabbing Taehyung's hand when the older plopped down on the mattress next to him. The judge nodded, sitting down on the floor in front of the mattress, crisscross applesauce.

"For you to be married," Hoseok began, "a document would need to be signed, correct?"

"Yes."

"Did you sign anything during that meeting?"

"No, hyung."

"Well, then, lovely news," the judge said. "No matter what, your marriage is not recognized in the name of the law. We just need to figure out why everyone believes that it is a true marriage."

................................................

Jungkook and Taehyung had made their way out to their special spot just in time to catch the sun slipping below the trees. The king was sprawled out in the older man's lap, receiving another braid, though he didn't know what kind. Tae hummed quietly under his breath as his fingers wove in and out, in and out. Something calm and peaceful, his deep voice lulling Jungkook into a state of peace.

"I love this," Taehyung said quietly.

"Me too," the king answered. "You have no idea." They watched together as bats flew in between the trees, their little webbed wings flitting about. There was just enough moonlight to see their outlines.

When Taehyung pointed the bats out, Jungkook could only tell they were there because the twinkling starts would momentarily be covered in a certain spot, but he could now see their shapes clearly.

"No matter what happens," Taehyung whispered, "you're not married if you don't want to be. To me, I'll never accept it unless I know you're happy." The king grinned into the darkness.

"Same here," his stupid mouth decided to say. Thankfully, Taehyung giggled.

"No matter what is going on in my life, this time is always peaceful," Jungkook said.

"Yeah, I tend to have that effect on people.

"Yeah, you do." Taehyung actually had to clutch his chest at that. Taehyung wished he could save this moment exactly how it was. He and Jungkook together, the stars twinkling, the thin crescent moon shining. This was the moment he truly realized Jungkook was not a friend to him. Right there, in the grass, smelling the king's shampoo.

It was as close to perfection on Earth as anything that Taehyung had ever known.

Except, of course, maybe Yeontan for obvious reasons, but he didn't have to tell Jungkook that.

Chapter Text

The king avoided Nabi like the plague. He slept late to avoid eating breakfast with her. He always had an excuse about 'royal duties' to avoid lunch. He even went so far as to go to bed early to miss supper with her. Unfortunately, this meant Taehyung didn't get to see him very often either.

Speaking of Nabi, the woman was the talk of the town. Every whisper, every double take, every gossip session in the village was about the new queen. Her beauty, her grace, her power over the king. They were oblivious, as most commoners usually are, to the events going down behind the palace walls, behind the closed doors of the royal quarters.

Hoseok and Taehyung were sprawled lazily in one of the palace's many sitting rooms. It had beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows on one wall, and shelves upon shelves of hardcover books on the others. The furniture in the center of the room was delicate and ornate, a series of wood, gold, and cushions. They spoke about mundane things such as the weather out of boredom, trying to occupy their newfound hours of free time every day as the queen tightened her grip on the kingdom.

The worst part was that Nabi had not shown a single bit of her true self during her stay at the palace. She was polite and composed. They had nothing on her. Not even a single, tiny piece of dirt. The angel of the palace, the gift that kept on giving. Little Miss Perfect.

"We have to do something about her, Taehyung. We simply must," Hoseok said, breaking the silence. Taehyung chewed on his thumbnail and nodded. He could smell the quiet rage radiating from Hoseok, silent but deadly.

"What can we do, hyung? We have nothing. What, do we piss her off until she snaps?!" Hoseok snapped and sat up abruptly, an evil smirk beginning to grace his face.

"Brilliant," he whispered. "Absolutely brilliant." The sunlight from the giant windows danced in his eyes, but it wasn't cute. No, the light looked like flame. A massive, destructive bonfire that was spreading too fast to be put out.

"Hyung, we're not children! Surely we can find a better plan. We're better than this." Hoseok's head dropped sadly, and he leaned back into his chair.

"You are right," he said. "Let us think of something else." And so, they sat.

And sat.

And sat.

"Oh, fuck it!" Taehyung finally exclaimed. "We can do the motherfucking plan." Hoseok's eyes ignited once more.

"You are on. Starting now, we watch her. Every move, every habit. We meet back here Wednesday night and plan." Hoseok held out his hand the second he finished talking. "You in?" Taehyung sighed and shook it.

"I'm in."

.............................................................

Unfortunately, Taehyung and Hoseok were not as sneaky as they thought. Nabi smelled something fishy the moment their behavior towards her drastically changed. Instead of being reserved, Taehyung was now by her side all the time, always asking her questions. Hoseok, usually avoiding her, had done a 180. He now waits on her hand and foot.

Nabi grew frustrated after only a day of this change. Not because she didn't like it, but because she couldn't figure out why it was happening, and that infuriated her. Naturally, she had gone off and done something a little...naughty merely because she wanted to get back at her husband for not being present, and to try and out Hoseok and Tae.

Meanwhile, Taehyung and Hoseok thought they were doing a great job. Taehyung began taking notes of everything he learned about the queen.

She's demanding but covers it up well, he wrote. She has a way of telling people what to do and how to act, but she makes them think it's in their best interest and not hers. He found that out on Monday afternoon.

"Oh, no!" the queen said to her personal maid. "My dear, you simply cannot wear that!" The young maid didn't see the embarrassment glowing in her eyes, but Taehyung did.

"You would not want to humiliate yourself when others see you in something so scandalous, would you?!" said the queen. The poor young maid's eyes grew wide, and she shook her head carefully. The queen made her eyes soften.

"Oh, dear, let me help you." The maid had to leave her old uniform behind, the one that she looked stunning in. It hugged her body beautifully. It was very flattering, both to her body and to her skin tone. The uniform was even short enough to show her ankles. It was green and gold, but it wasn't silk like the royal family's. Instead, it was made of dull, heavy wool. Still, it was beautiful.

The poor girl was now dressed in a brown uniform that reminded Taehyung of a potato sack. It was much too big for the eighteen-year-old. It went past her feet and was baggy everywhere. It gave the poor girl no shape whatsoever and clashed with her skin tone horribly, making her look pasty and dead. It took away almost all of the girl's beauty.

There, Taehyung thought. Got you, bitch. The queen was jealous.

Hoseok, on the other hand, had noticed something different. The queen was controlling.

The realization had begun through the planning of a parade through town. The royal family and palace staff were to walk through the village on Thursday night. Therefore, they only had two days to plan it.

The queen began by telling everyone it had to happen in the early morning, because the light then looked best on her. No one gave that a second thought. The queen deserves to look and feel her best, after all.

However, when they began to get into the details, Hoseok sensed it. The queen ordered the procession on status and who would look best next to each other. She even went so far as to force everyone who was not the king or queen to wear a brown garment very similar to the one she had given her maid. It finally slapped Hoseok in the face when the queen began dictating hairstyles.

Yeah, a plan was a-brewing.

....................................................................

On Wednesday night, about two hours before final supper, Hoseok and Tae met up in the same sitting room once again.

"Got anything?" Taehyung asked from his spot on the floor, criss-cross applesauce at Hoseok's feet. The older nodded.

"Nabi is extremely controlling. How about you?"

"She's ridiculously jealous," Taehyung answered. "So, obviously, the best way to go about this is to make everyone look hot and screw over every single detail of the parade thingamajig."

"I have the notes right here," Hoseok replied, waving the leather-bound meeting notes in front of Tae's schnoz.

"Beautiful," Taehyung fake cried.

"So," Hoseok began, "it cannot happen in the morning. I say we do the opposite so the parade takes place in the late evening."

"Brilliant, amazing, keep going."

"We change the order. Everyone lines up randomly, not by status, but by...favorite color! Yes, and the order is based on rainbow order!"

"Genius, Hoseok hyung." Hoseok nodded, tracing his teeth with his tongue.

"I know."

"Wait...the queen's favorite color is red. She mentioned it at dinner on Tuesday night."

"Oh my, I had forgotten! Now she will be at the front!"

"No," Taehyung said, "because we're doing opposite rainbow order."

"You beautiful mind. What should we do about outfits, Tae?"

"Well, I'm so glad you asked. We tell everyone to wear what they feel best in, including their hairstyles." Hoseok squealed and clapped his hands.

"It is perfect, but we have a problem."

"What's that, hyung?"

"There is only one person who can overrule the queen's orders."

"Jungkook," they both said at the same time.

................................................

They walked up to the king's door quietly, arguing over who should knock.

"You should!" Hoseok whisper-shouted. "He likes you more!"

"No, you should! You're the judge!"

"What does that have to do with this?" Hoseok retorted.

"I can hear you, cowards! You can come in, I will not bite." Taehyung creaked Jungkook's door open, the light from inside nearly blinding him.

"Come sit." The king patted the bed next to him. Hoseok and Tae sat obediently.

"We have something to tell you," Taehyung blurted.

"Go ahead." Tae caught him up on the events of the beginning of the week.

"So will you do it?" he asked after the retelling. The king nodded.

"Absolutely. In fact, I'll come to dinner tonight just to hit her even harder." Hoseok and Taehyung whooped and tackled the king. Soon, the room was a mess of giggling and squeals, the kind that warmed hearts. They walked to dinner hand in hand.

Bae Nabi cleared her throat and clinked her fancy silver spoon against her glass the moment everyone was seated at dinner. She didn't seem surprised to see the king, almost as if she had known he would give in.

"Everyone, I have a joyous announcement!" she squealed. "Mother, Father, Jungkookie, I am pregnant!" Hoseok spat out his soju, full-on spraying the sour liquid all over the tablecloth. Jungkook and Taehyung both inhaled a bite of rice, the tiny grains going down their throats. As the three men were dying, Nabi's parents got up to hug her, tears streaming down their faces.

"Oh, a grandchild, a grandchild!" Mrs. Bae kept saying as she rocked her daughter. The king, however, was pale. Too pale.

"Poor boy!" Mr Bae chuckled. "Frozen in shock, exactly how I was when we found out we were pregnant with Nabi." Mr. Bae was correct; the king was in shock, but not in the way everyone thought.

A lengthy celebration happened at dinner that night. Congratulations rang out, champagne glasses clinked, and laughter echoed throughout the halls of the palace until late in the evening.

When the king was finally able to leave, Hoseok and Taehyung followed him all the way to his bedroom, plopping down on his mattress for the second time that night.

"Okay, spill," Taehyung said. The king stuttered for a moment, as if unsure how to start the conversation. Hoseok raised an eyebrow at him.

"I hadn't the slightest that you two-"

"No, no, we didn't!" the king cut Hoseok off. "I swear I did not--I would never..."

"Breathe, Kook," Taehyung cut in. "We believe you, but if it wasn't you, who is the true father of the royal baby?" His question was met with silence.

"I would say we execute her for infidelity; however, we cannot, as the marriage is not technically legal," Hoseok remarked, breaking the long silence. Taehyung nodded, chewing on his fingernails.

A heavy knock on the door ended everyone's train of thought.

"You may enter," the king mumbled. Mr. Lee appeared in the doorway, carrying a thin box of pine.

"Your Majesty," he grinned, "congratulations! I brought this as a gift," he said, holding up the frame in his hands. "'Tis your marriage papers."

"That-that is my signature," the king stuttered, "but I could not have signed that." Mr. Lee left, sensing the need for a private discussion.

"Good news, dear," Hoseok said, the same fire from earlier glowing wildly in his eyes. "We can try her for infidelity, which will lead to her execution. Nabi will not get away with this one."

"We couldn't possibly kill her," the young monarch said firmly. But did he mean it? Hoseok and Taehyung said their goodnights like any other night, hugging the king and wishing him a good night's rest. How could they know they could be saying goodbye?

That night, one- or rather, two- people took their final breaths.

And there was only one person with known access to the room they were in.

A shadow entered the royal bedroom that night, a knife in hand.

They left with two souls following them out.

Chapter Text

Shrieks echoed throughout the stone halls of the palace. A plate shattered as the people of the palace slowly woke up. It was like something out of a nightmare.

Everyone rushed to the king and queen's quarters, the place where the screams had come. A maid stood frozen at the doorway, broken shards of porcelain and spilled grains of rice at her feet. The king lay on the mattress, still fast asleep and bathed in sunlight.

Crimson red liquid glittered everywhere. The sheets, the blankets, and on the king himself. It was smeared on his face, almost like tears of blood.

Next to him lay the queen, her eyes closed. A jagged X was carved into her face, revealing the muscle and bone under her perfect skin. She didn't look peaceful. No, she looked angry and scared, as if mid-scream. Blood stained the blanket on her stomach dark red, revealing a matching X on her abdomen.

The king's chest rose and fell slowly.

Nabi's parents were led away from the room, sobbing and screaming. The palace was evacuated as the clean-up began. The king stirred awake as servants moved around like robots, scrubbing the floor and stripping the bed.

"Whatever is going on?" he muttered sleepily, eyes barely half open. Mr. Lee stared down at him, eyes filled with a deep, broken kind of hurt.

"Your Majesty Jeon Jungkook, you are hereby sentenced to death for the murder of Her Majesty Bae Nabi and her unborn child," he whispered. A strangled sound came out of the king's throat.

"No...Mr. Lee...you could not possibly think it was me...could you? I would never!" The king pleaded with everybody, but they all turned their backs. Taehyung just stood at the doorway. His eyes searched Jungkook's from across the room. His coffee colored orbs were full of hurt and pleading, but no guilt.

Tae made his way over to the king, his footsteps careful, almost as if he were dancing on thin ice.

"Hey," he said softly, kneeling in front of the younger man, "I believe you." That was all it took for the king to break. Deep, raw sobs came from somewhere deep in his chest. Taehyung held him tightly, clutching him like he might float away.

"I've got you," he whispered. "I've got you." Mr. Lee cleared his throat then.

"I am sorry, but it is time." The king was dragged away from Taehyung, his hands tied behind his back.

It was like a funeral procession because it was a funeral procession. The king was tied securely to a large wooden pole as he was pulled in a peasant's wagon through the streets of Joseon.

Taehyung and Mr. Lee walked right next to the cart with expressionless faces. People threw things at the king. Tomatoes, steaming hot rice, even bricks. The people were roaring insults at the nineteen-year-old.

"MURDERER!" they screamed. The king stared straight into the sun ahead of him, a steady stream of tears flowing down his face. When the cart finally came to a halt in front of a temporary wooden stage in the center of the town square, the king and his pole were carried to the center of the stage by two guards.

Taehyung watched in horror as the executioner, dressed in all black leather with a black mask covering his face, took out a box of matches.

"Any last words?" he growled. The king strained his neck to where Tae was standing.

"Please keep watching the sunsets," he said, then, quieter, "for Carl." Taehyung bit back a sob as the match was lit. The flames licked hungrily at the rope securing the king to the pole, then fed on the wood of the pole itself. It wasn't long before the king couldn't be seen anymore. Only a wall of fire.

The worst part?

People cheered.

Loud, thundering applause as if the king had done 20 backflips without breathing.

"WAIT!" Taehyung whipped around from the flames, only to be met with Hoseok, crocodile tears running down his face as sweat made his hair look soaking wet.

"IT WAS ME!" he sobbed. "I KILLED HER!" He dropped to his knees as gasps of horror echoed throughout the crowd.

"PUT THE FIRE OUT!" screamed Mr. Lee. Buckets of water were dumped frantically on the burning pole.

A black, gooey figure stood tied to the pole, completely charred.

It was too late.

Hoseok was tied to the stake next, but Taehyung wasn't watching. He was never watching. His eyes were focused on the unrecognizable creature in the body wagon.

The innocent teenager.

Tae ran through the thick crowd, frantically swiping at his eyes. He had to get out of there.

Kim Taehyung was never seen again.

Chapter Text

A smoking piece of hanbok sat in the middle of the street.

A dead, broken, burned body lay at Taehyung’s feet.

Around him rang wails of despair

But all he could think of was the head of black, silky hair

That was tied up in braids, all neat

Now lying limp in the middle of the street

They found a body in the woods that day.

Unmarked.

The only thing that wasn't charred was a tiny square of green and gold silk.

Chapter Text

Taehyung shot upright, breathing heavily.

It wasn't real.

Hoseok, the burning, the king, none of it was real. He placed his hand over his heart in an attempt to slow its beating.

Gosh, the face of the king. It was so familiar. Tae's eyes drifted to the poster on his wall. The king's face stared back at him, or rather, the face of the popstar, Jeon Jungkook.

Tae's eyes drifted to his ceiling, and purple polka dots swirled in his gaze. Two warm presences graced his side, letting off heat he could feel through his thick green and gold quilt. Yeontan and Carl.

There it was, Taehyung thought. That feeling when you know deep down that your dream meant something real. Taehyung felt it. He had never been one for believing in dreams, but he knew this time was different.

He knew he loved Jungkook for real, at least, in his dream, he did. Was that what this was all about?

Tae snatched his phone from its charger on his nightstand and immediately unlocked it. He feverishly searched for the Weverse app and began a post to Jungkook.

Jungkook-ssi, this is going to sound crazy, but I think you're lonely. Or maybe my soulmate. Last night, I dreamt of you. You were a king, and a great one, too. We fell for each other then. Maybe you feel it, too. A strange connection. I'm not one for believing in dreams, but I know this one meant something. The sparks were there, trust me. If you feel it, too, I live in Los Angeles. Come visit sometime :)

Always yours,

Kim Taehyung

Tae knew he sounded like a thirsty teenager. He was just compelled by the chance that he really could have found his soulmate. He had learned from all sorts of books and movies that one mustn't let a chance like this slip by.

It wasn't like he'd get a reply, anyway.

..............................................................................................

3 DAYS LATER

Taehyung stood at his sink, music blasting, as he carefully guided his toothbrush over his teeth. He was absolutely jamming out, his music blasting and head bobbing, when suddenly, the music muted itself, silenced by a notification.

Tae spat out his toothpaste and wiped his mouth with his bare wrist. He glanced at his phone.

Time.

Stood.

Still.

The message was a reply. Not only a reply, but THE reply, from the king himself.

Taehyung-ssi, it read,

Thank you so much for reaching out! I am honored to have been in one of your dreams. I hope you are doing well. I truly appreciate your concern for me. However, I would like to assure you that I am not lonely. I am actually in love with someone now (please don't kill me, Manager-Nim). Maybe you are the lonely one. Is it possible that is what your subconscious was trying to tell you? You do sound like a pretty cool guy, but my boyfriend would skin me alive if I cheated on him! Go out into the world and find your true special someone, Taehyung-ssi. As always, you will never be truly alone because you will always have me. I know we may have been strangers a few minutes ago, but I would love to consider you my friend. I purple you :)

Somehow, the rejection didn't sting. The king was right.

He needed to go out and find his special someone.