Chapter Text
He has a nice smile, Seokjin thinks to himself as he stares across the table. An idle thought, distracted, filtering through his mind amid a haze of uninteresting conversation. Someone on his left is talking about taxes or tithes or something and Seokjin nods, keeping his expression neutral and intent, pretending he’s listening.
But instead, his gaze is fixed across the table on Park Jimin. He really does have a nice smile, one he displays readily as he talks to the man beside him, giving a bright laugh. It’s a nice laugh too, like the chime of bells. Good really, that he has a nice smile, a nice laugh. He’s handsome, kind, charming. All good traits.
Important traits for the man Seokjin is meant to marry.
The younger son of the king of the Southern Kingdom, with golden blonde hair and a laugh like bells. His eyes crease when he smiles and it makes him look young, sweet. Seokjin knows they seem like a good match, at least on paper. All drawn up and compared together, two charming, handsome princes who would look very attractive if they were painted in a portrait side by side.
Seokjin can acknowledge the truth of that. And he can acknowledge the truth of this being a smart match, Jimin will make an excellent King Consort. It’s good. And by that, of course, he means for their respective families, their kingdoms. Not necessarily for themselves. But that doesn’t matter. Seokjin is well aware that doesn’t matter.
“My prince.” Jimin’s voice filters across the table.
When Seokjin blinks, gaze focusing, he finds Jimin watching him, smiling politely. “Yes, Prince Jimin?”
The attention has shifted away from them, their seat neighbors talking to other people. Seokjin realizes, quite suddenly, that this is really the first time they’ve had a direct conversation.
“Your highness, you’ve barely touched your food,” Jimin says gently. “Are you alright?”
They’re so formal together. My prince, your highness. Seokjin hardly thinks this is how he should be addressing the man he’s going to marry, thinks they should be more comfortable with one another… and yet. This is only the second time they’ve met. It is formal and stilted because they are at dinner with their families and the court of Seokjin’s father’s kingdom. And because they simply do not know each other.
Shouldn’t Seokjin know more about the person he’s supposed to marry? He pushes that thought down, fixing a smile on his face.
“Ah.” Seokjin clears his throat and removes his napkin from his lap, setting it on the table in front of him. “I don’t think I’m all that hungry, really,” he admits.
Jimin nods demurely. “I’m not really either.” He inclines his head toward the open doors leaving the banquet hall. “Would you care to take a walk?”
“Certainly,” he replies. And who even says ‘certainly’ anymore? He sounds like his grandfather.
Rising from his chair, Seokjin murmurs apologies to the nobles around him, giving his father a nod where he sits a few seats away at the head of the table. His father returns his nod, going back to talking to Jimin’s father, and Seokjin meets Jimin’s eyes across the table. Jimin is standing as well, looking expectant.
“Shall we?” Seokjin offers, and Jimin nods, the two of them heading toward the doors.
The evening air is pleasant, cool against Seokjin’s skin. He welcomes the reprieve from the guests at dinner, the moment to breathe. Beside him, it seems as though Jimin feels the same, as he lets out a sigh when they step into the gardens, falling in beside Seokjin as they begin to walk.
They’re quiet, just walking together along the stone path between manicured shrubs and rose bushes. Seokjin considers offering Jimin his arm, an olive branch of sorts, an attempt to bridge the awkwardness between them. He does want to be closer, for them to be comfortable with each other. And yet… Seokjin hesitates and clasps his hands behind his back instead, tipping his chin up to look at the darkening sky.
“It’s pretty here,” Jimin says finally, when they’re well away from the castle, lost among the roses.
Seokjin tilts his head back down, glancing at Jimin. He finds that Jimin is not looking at him, his gaze fixed on a koi pond on their left. “My mother loves roses,” Seokjin explains. “My father expanded the gardens for her, added more flowers.”
“That’s sweet,” Jimin murmurs, but there’s a slight furrow to his brow.
Clearing his throat, Seokjin squeezes his fingers together. “He wanted her to be happy here.”
Seokjin knows that Jimin will have to leave the Southern Kingdom to marry him. He will have to leave his home and come live here, with Seokjin. In a strange place with a stranger.
“I hope you’ll be happy here too,” Seokjin adds, voice gentle.
Jimin doesn’t respond right away. There’s still a furrow between his brows but the rest of his face remains impassive, neutral. “I really love the sea,” he says finally, his gaze slides to Seokjin. “Have you ever visited the South?”
“I haven’t,” Seokjin admits. He’s rarely left their borders, rarely ventured outside the Western Kingdom.
“The capital is on the water,” Jimin says. “A harbor city, and the castle is up above.” He smiles slightly, wistful. “All white cliffs and warm salt spray, a path leading down to the beach. It’s…” he trails off and Seokjin sees him swallow.
“We’re not that close to the sea here,” Seokjin replies carefully. “But we have harbor towns, closer to the Northern Kingdom, and on the coast.” He watches Jimin’s face, the way his jaw looks tight. “Perhaps we could go sometime.”
I want you to be happy here, he doesn’t add, doesn’t need to say again.
They fall into quiet once more and Seokjin flounders for something to say. He should know what to say when speaking to his future husband, to comfort him. He does want Jimin to be happy here. He doesn’t want him to be miserable, Seokjin doesn’t want to be miserable either.
“Seokjin,” Jimin says suddenly, his voice surprising Seokjin from his thoughts.
It startles him a little, the informal address, and he turns his head sharply, finding Jimin watching him intently. “Prince Jimin, I -”
“Is this what you truly want?” Jimin interrupts.
And that’s - that’s a strange question.
Seokjin shakes his head slowly, staring at Jimin in confusion. “Of course it is.”
Jimin doesn’t look convinced, eyebrows raising as he studies Seokjin. “You hardly know me,” he challenges. “We’ve met twice.”
“Yes, well…” Seokjin trails off, surprised by this. Jimin seems sweet, maybe a little reserved, a bit shy. But this is different, a hint of steel as he watches Seokjin with sharp eyes. And he knows there must be steel in Jimin, strength. He is a prince, a fighter, strong and capable. But… “It’s for our kingdoms,” Seokjin finishes. “I will do my duty.”
“Of course,” Jimin murmurs. “Your duty.”
Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but Seokjin isn’t sure what the right response could have been.
“Is it hard?” Jimin asks, his expression softening, eyes almost sad. “Being crown prince? Is it hard?”
Seokjin has never been asked this question before. “I -” He isn’t entirely sure how to answer. “It’s an honor to know that I will someday rule the kingdom.”
“I see,” Jimin says, giving Seokjin a sad smile. He doesn’t comment on the fact that Seokjin’s reply was not really an answer to his question. “Well…” Jimin stops walking as they reach the end of the trail, back at the doors leading into the castle. “I’ll take my leave,” he says, dipping into a bow. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Seokjin responds automatically, returning Jimin’s bow. He watches Jimin go, standing in place for much longer than he should.
✷✷✷
Is this what you truly want?
Seokjin frowns as he unbuttons his shirt, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. It was such a strange question to be asked, one that Seokjin struggled to find an answer for.
But the look on Jimin’s face, the way he asked… Maybe this isn’t what Jimin wants. And Seokjin can understand that, on some level. Jimin is younger than him by a few years, and he clearly loves his kingdom. Knowing he has to uproot his life and leave the only home he’s ever known, marry a man he doesn’t know… it’s hard. Seokjin would find it hard, surely.
The fact that it’s hard though, that doesn’t really matter. None of Seokjin’s feelings about any of this matter, so he’s been trying not to have any. It’s something he’s become good at over the years. As he got older and realized that things weren’t his to want.
Seokjin doesn’t think in terms of wants anymore, really. It’s not up to him, it’s what is good for the kingdom, good for his family and his people. That’s all that matters. The fact that Seokjin may have harbored a secret hope that he might marry for love, or that he might get to explore the rest of the continent before he was married… well.
Those things are trivial.
So Seokjin will do his duty, he will marry Prince Jimin of the Southern Kingdom.
And it could be worse. Jimin could be rude or unkind, he could be cruel or ugly. It’s clear he’s none of those things, a warrior with a gentle disposition and a pretty smile. Seokjin thinks he could grow to like him, at least be friends with him, if not love him.
Because love doesn’t matter either, despite the way Seokjin has hoped for it. Jimin seems like he could be easy to love, in some way. Just, maybe not when Seokjin doesn’t have a choice.
But Seokjin does not have choices in his life. Seokjin does his duty, as is expected of him. Tomorrow they will have the ceremony to finalize the engagement, mark it all as official. By the end of the evening, Seokjin will be betrothed and that’s that.
Shrugging off his shirt, Seokjin sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. He’s tired, more tired than he probably should be. Letting his hands fall to his sides, Seokjin begins moving around the room, extinguishing candles.
Is it hard? Being crown prince?
Such a strange question, one Seokjin hasn’t really considered before. He pauses in his movements, studying a dancing flame as he thinks.
It’s a complicated answer, a complicated thought. Yes, and no, he thinks.
Blinking, Seokjin snuffs out the flame and moves on.
It is an honor to be the heir to his kingdom, to know that one day he will be king. It’s an honor to serve his people and follow the path laid out for him, to want the best, strive to be the best.
And yet…
Seokjin slips into bed, reaching to put out the last candle by his bedside. He rolls onto his side, blinking in the sudden darkness.
It’s all Seokjin has ever known. Sometimes, maybe, he’s wondered what it might be like, to not feel that pressure. In private moments, Seokjin has considered what it might be like to live without the weight of duty and expectation. But these fantasies are not ones that Seokjin can afford to entertain.
Sighing, Seokjin shifts beneath his blankets, silk sheets cool against his bare chest. As he turns his head, something beneath his feather pillow crinkles. Frowning, Seokjin pushes up on his elbow, fluffing the pillow a few times. A stray feather maybe, he’s not sure, too tired to care much. When he lies back down, whatever was beneath the pillow seems to be gone.
✷✷✷
There are voices outside Seokjin’s bedroom. Hushed, but growing louder. At first, Seokjin thought it might have been a dream. But the hurrying footsteps and the growing voices have not stopped, only increased. Seokjin squeezes his eyes closed, curling up beneath his blankets. It’s early, he knows it’s early. The sun is barely coming in through his windows and no one should be coming to wake him yet.
But the voices…
Wrinkling his nose, Seokjin considers putting a pillow over his head to drown them out. There are three, maybe four, and they seem to be right outside his door. Even though they’re trying to speak in low tones, the conversation keeps rising, voices picking up -
Seokjin hears his name.
He frowns, peeking open one eye to squint blearily at the tangle of sheets in front of him. Are they arguing about waking him up? Maybe some preparations for the day someone overlooked?
That seems like something they could figure out without him. He doesn’t have a hand in any of the preparations, he just has to show up and smile and do what he’s supposed to.
Do his duty.
The word feels a little sour on his tongue when Seokjin murmurs it to himself. He sighs, curling his hands in the blankets. Maybe it’s the conversation he had with Jimin the day before, or a night of, admittedly, fitful sleep.
Surely that’s it, Seokjin is just tired. And he should still be sleeping, should be allowed a few more hours of rest to -
Seokjin hears Jimin’s name this time, the clamor of voices rising once again. The thick wooden door barely muffles them now.
Frustration courses through him and Seokjin sighs, ready to get up and march across the room. He could fling open the door, tell them off and send them scattering. The thought of having to get out of his nice warm bed to do so seems criminal, but Seokjin would like a little peace.
For as long as he’s allowed to have it.
But he doesn’t have a chance to make a dramatic scene, or even to shout for quiet. He’s just psyching himself up to throw off his blankets when his door is unceremoniously thrown open, hitting the wall with a crash.
Startled, Seokjin sits bolt upright, head swimming a little at the sudden change in angle. The blankets slip away from his bare chest, pooling in his lap, and Seokjin grips them with nervous hands.
Three men rush into the room, all bowing and calling apologies as they burst unannounced into Seokjin’s chambers. His father’s castellan, a royal advisor, and one of Seokjin’s own personal attendants following behind the two, looking annoyed.
“What is the meaning of this?” Seokjin demands, trying not to let his shock or the fact that he has just woken up show.
“Your highness, pardon the interruption,” his attendant begins, bowing low. “I asked them not to disturb you, but -”
“My prince, this is a matter of utmost urgency,” the royal advisor interrupts.
Seokjin fights not to roll his eyes, already growing weary of whatever is going on. He glances toward the windows, at the thin beam of sunlight coming through the glass, and frowns. “It’s quite early.”
“As I tried to tell them!” his attendant chimes in. “I was trying to -”
“We wouldn’t have disturbed you if it wasn’t -”
“Prince Jimin is missing,” the castellan cuts in, silencing the two other men.
Seokjin blinks, the last vestiges of sleep slipping away as the words register. “He’s - he’s missing?”
The castellan gives a grave nod, stepping further into the room. “His attendant went to wake him this morning and found him gone.”
“Gone?”
Another nod. “There were signs of a struggle,” he continues. “The room is in disarray and the prince cannot be found. We’ve turned the castle and the grounds upside down and yet…”
Seokjin’s head swims, mind whirling as he stares at the men standing in his room. Prince Jimin is… missing? The man Seokjin is meant to become engaged to in a few short hours is gone.
Suppressing the urge to let out a litany of curses, Seokjin runs a hand through his hair. His parents must be upset, and Jimin’s parents. Gods, he can’t even imagine what they must be thinking.
Rushing footsteps sound in the hall and Seokjin once again raises his eyes to the doorway in time to see another of his attendants appear. The man looks disheveled and half out of breath, as if he ran up the flights of stairs to Seokjin’s wing of the castle.
“Your highness,” the man gasps, dipping into a bow as he regulates his breathing. When he straightens, he looks a bit more composed. “Your highness, your father, the king, wishes to see you with the council.”
This time, Seokjin does curse.
✷✷✷
“It looks like there was a fight of some sort,” the captain of the household guard says. “The room has been overturned, furniture moved around and toppled, torn papers, the prince’s things strewn about the room.” The man is standing at the end of the table, hands clasped in front of him as he gives his report.
Seokjin’s father, sitting ramrod straight at the other end of the table, frowns deeply. “But no sign of the prince?”
The guard hesitates momentarily before shaking his head. “There was no -” he breaks off, eyes sliding to Jimin’s father, the king of the Southern Kingdom seated at Seokjin’s father’s left hand, “- there was no blood, your majesty.”
Jimin’s father lets out a relieved breath, slumping a little in his chair, but Seokjin’s father still looks displeased. “And you have searched everywhere?”
“Everywhere,” the royal guard confirms. “We have men combing the wood now, but he is nowhere within the walls, we’re sure of it.”
One of the council members clears his throat before speaking. “There were guards posted at either end of the corridor, were there not?”
The captain of the guard gives him a nod, shifting slightly on his feet. “One at either end of the corridor and more patrolling the halls, as usual. They were close enough to hear, especially if furniture was knocked over or there was a fight.”
“And yet they didn’t,” another council member, this time one of Jimin’s father’s chimes in. “Very suspicious.”
Seokjin’s father lets out an affronted sound. “I hope you’re not accusing anyone here of having something to do with this,” he says, voice low and dangerous.
“It just seems very convenient…” another council member from the Southern Kingdom’s side begins.
“There was one thing,” the guard cuts in as council members glare across the table at one another. Seokjin is thankful for it, worried the men were about to leap at each other. The guard turns to the side and another guard, lower in ranking, rushes to him, presenting him with a black object.
“What is that?” someone asks.
Seokjin cranes his own neck to try to see. Beside him, his father leans forward slightly in interest.
“A feather,” the guard says, holding it out.
It’s not really like any feather Seokjin has seen. Huge, long and black, shiny as it catches the light from a candelabra. The shaft of the feather glitters and Seokjin squints to see why, before noticing it appears to have been dipped in gold.
“I know that feather,” Seokjin’s father grumbles.
“Yes,” the guard confirms. “This feather is the insignia of the prince of the Eastern Kingdom.”
Seokjin feels a little lost, not knowing what the Eastern Kingdom, or their prince, has to do with any of this. As far as he knows, the Eastern Kingdom is a land steeped in old customs and superstitions. Tucked in the deep forests beyond the Central Kingdom, it is considered mysterious, though Seokjin has never heard of his own kingdom having problems with them.
“We have never had a problem with the Eastern Kingdom,” the Southern king states, glancing at Seokjin’s father.
“Nor have we,” Seokjin’s father replies.
“And yet,” Jimin’s father begins, “the prince of the Eastern Kingdom snuck into your castle and stole my son from his bed.”
There’s a heated moment of silence after the pronouncement. Seokjin can feel tension crackling in the air and he fists his hands atop his thighs, eyes flitting around the table. There’s a tightness to his father’s jaw as he stares at the other king.
And then everyone begins to speak at once.
It devolves quickly, a cacophony of raised voices and pointed fingers as both sides of the table begin to accuse the other. Seokjin watches, stunned, as councilors on both sides get heated. It seems ridiculous, unreal, that Jimin could have been - what? Kidnapped? Seokjin almost wants to laugh when he considers it, and yet… that seems to be the consensus.
Amid the shouting, Seokjin can make that much out. As well as Jimin’s father’s threatening words, mentions of retribution for the disappearance of his son. Not the Western Kingdom’s fault, yet it happened on their watch, within their walls.
The threats are laced with much meaning and Seokjin finds himself sitting up straighter, sweat dampening his palms. This marriage was meant to unite their two kingdoms, but it looks now like they’re going to find themselves embroiled in a war instead.
And Seokjin can’t help but think of Jimin, of his sad smile, his sad eyes. The questions he asked, how he seemed - how he seemed to want so much more. Jimin did not want to be shackled to a life of duty like Seokjin, that much is obvious. But now… now he’s been taken against his will. Something even worse. And as the voices rise around him, men beginning to stand and posture, Seokjin feels heat rising in his chest.
The clatter of his chair as Seokjin rises to his feet has a few people looking over. They stop speaking and quiet falls slowly around the room. The last few men arguing, including the two kings, cut off. All eyes turn to Seokjin.
“He needs to be rescued,” Seokjin says simply.
Everyone continues to stare at him and Seokjin refuses to squirm under the combined weight of their gazes.
“Prince Jimin, my intended, has been taken from our castle. As is right, we will get him back.” He pauses, glancing at his father before meeting the Southern king’s eyes. “I will get him back.”
“Seokjin -” his father begins.
Shaking his head, Seokjin looks around the room. “What other option do we have?”
Silence again.
Seokjin knows the other option. War.
An option he does not want for his people, for his family.
“They will be heading for the Eastern Kingdom,” Seokjin continues. “I will take men with me and go find them, bring Prince Jimin back.”
“You cannot take the army outside our borders,” Seokjin’s father informs him. “It would be against our treaties. They could go with you to the edge of the kingdom, but after that…”
After that, Seokjin would be on his own.
“Well, we’ll just have to hope we catch them before that,” Seokjin says diplomatically. “They can’t have too much of a head start.”
Or at least that’s what he hopes. It’s not what Seokjin wants to do, as brave as he may sound. But… but duty. Duty and honor, and what is expected of him. Seokjin knows this is what he should do. As all eyes at the table turn to the two kings, Seokjin holds his breath, waiting for their nods of assent.
✷✷✷
The sound of hooves on cobblestones rings loud in the morning air. Seokjin sits tall on his horse, one hand held high as he waves. There’s a crowd gathered in the capital, lining the street as Seokjin and his men head for the city gates.
There had been some thought to keeping the situation hushed, not letting anything slip. But it was decided to send word across the kingdoms, and spread the news of Seokjin’s quest to rescue his future husband. This way, if Seokjin were to stop in another kingdom, he could hopefully expect some help from the rulers. And the people could help as well, both his subjects and those of the other kingdoms. The spreading news might even lead to sightings of Jimin and his captor.
So with the news of Seokjin leaving to find Jimin, the people of the capital have gathered. His subjects throw flowers into the path of his white gelding, cheering and calling his name. They implore him to bring back their future king consort, wishing him luck and good fortune.
It feels a little like Seokjin, with his company of a dozen men behind him, is going off to war.
A sobering thought, one that nearly wipes the smile from his face. He very much hopes none of this comes to war. If he can just find Jimin, hopefully sooner rather than later, anything further can be avoided.
Pushing away any nervous thoughts, Seokjin sits taller on his horse, nodding to the gathered crowd. Shoulders back and chin held high, Seokjin leads the way out of the gates.
There wasn’t much time for Seokjin to prepare, after the direction was decided at the council meeting, the entire castle was spurred into action. A mess of frantic energy, rushing about and called orders, as plans were made and men were gathered.
Seokjin, for his part, avoided much of the madness when his father pulled Seokjin into his study. “You didn’t have to volunteer for this,” he father said, sitting behind the carved wooden desk, hands folded on the surface.
And Seokjin knew that, but it didn’t feel like there were many other options. “This seems better than going to war.”
His father inclined his head, nodding in reluctant agreement. “I don’t like sending my only son out on such a task but…” he trails off, shaking his head. “I suppose there’s nothing to be done.”
“Hopefully I’ll only be gone a few days,” Seokjin replied. “They can’t have gotten too far ahead of us. If we leave in the morning tomorrow, maybe we can catch them before they even leave the kingdom.”
“That is my hope,” his father agreed. “But if not, I’ve drafted letters to the other kingdoms, explaining the situation. I’ll send them by bird and give you a few copies, that should help you find assistance if needed.”
“Thank you.”
Another nod from his father, before he rose from his seat, coming around to clap Seokjin on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, son,” his father said, smiling down at him. “I can always count on you to do what is best for our people.”
Seokjin shifts in his saddle as he remembers his father’s words. He thinks they were meant to be comforting, or uplifting, maybe. They didn’t entirely feel like that though. They left a hollowness in his chest, one that he’s found growing there since his conversation with Jimin in the gardens.
Duty and honor. Doing whatever his kingdom requires, what his father needs. Not what he, himself, wants.
It’s never been about what Seokjin wants, and that’s something he’s always known. Something he’s made peace with, or, well, never really needed to make peace with. That’s just the way it is, how it’s always been. But now, somehow, he’s having a hard time with it. Having a hard time not thinking about all things he’s given up, never had.
He felt it when he was packing his things, throwing some extra clothes into a bag, sharpening his sword. A strangeness in him, enhanced as he sat in quiet, staring into space with a barely used sword in his hand.
That night, before leaving, his mother had come to him, knocking on his door and entering quietly. A sad smile on her face, hands clasped in front of her as she looked at Seokjin rolling up a map.
“Your father is very proud of you.”
Seokjin only hummed in acknowledgement. Somehow, knowing he was his father’s pride didn’t hearten him like it usually did.
“You don’t have to do this,” his mother said gently.
And Seokjin appreciated the words, that she seemed to be trying to give him an out. But they both knew she was wrong, the die already cast. He looked up, giving her a small smile, hoping it didn’t look as sad as her own. “I’ll be fine,” he said.
Because what else could he say? I don’t want to do this?
Pointless, to voice thoughts like that out loud.
“I know,” his mother said, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “Just be safe.”
With a nod of agreement, and a swift hug, Seokjin sent her off. When he was alone again, Seokjin sat heavily in the chair at his desk, staring at the mess of maps on the surface.
You don’t have to do this, his mother said, but Seokjin knows that he does.
✷✷✷
As Seokjin and his men head away from the capital, making for the border between the Western and Central kingdoms, Seokjin is surprised to find some of the heaviness leaving him. Some of the weight shifted off his shoulders as the sun shines and their horses trot along, leaving the capital city behind.
There’s something freeing about it, to be on his own, or, mostly on his own. To be without his father, without a huge retinue, and doing something. It feels like it’s been ages since Seokjin has even left the capital, seen his kingdom and all the surrounding lands.
He feels like he can breathe deeply for the first time in… he doesn’t know how long. The stuffiness gone, the huge mantle of expectation lifted. Or, not entirely lifted. Seokjin knows what his purpose is, but somehow, it doesn’t feel so daunting when he’s riding along the great road with his men.
His horse seems to feel it too, a spring in his step, nearly prancing. Eager to run, to let loose. So long since they’ve been able to. When Seokjin finally loosens the reins, calling to his men as he urges his horse into a canter, he can’t help the smile that takes over his face.
The journey is not altogether unpleasant. They spend the majority of their days on horseback, riding into towns and cities to search and ask for news. Stops at farms along the road or halting passing travelers to ask if they’ve seen Jimin or the Eastern prince. And just to talk to his people, the ones he cares for so deeply, feels good.
Keeping their journey mostly to the great road means that Seokjin and his men encounter plenty of settlements. Towns and small cities, sprawling farmsteads and homes. There are other routes they could take, less populous roads and shorter routes. But Seokjin figures this is the best way, they can question more people, keep an ear out for news of Jimin. Though, after three days of travel, Seokjin has heard nothing but unsubstantiated rumors.
His people are eager to be helpful, to speak to their beloved prince and do what they can to assist. But that doesn’t mean their information is always reliable. Seokjin accepts it all though, gracious and thankful, clasping hands and giving warm smiles. The ones he receives in return, from subjects seemingly so delighted to see their prince, no matter the circumstances, bolster his spirits.
Sometimes being a prince feels a little like an abstract concept to Seokjin. He considers that now, as he soaks in a steaming tub at an inn. Through the floorboards, he can hear the voices and laughter of his men still down in the tavern, drinking and eating. Seokjin relishes his moment of quiet contemplation, head tipped back and eyes closed.
When he feels like he’s stuck in the castle nearly constantly, in council meetings and learning how to eventually rule, the concept of his actual kingdom sometimes escapes him. When he can get out into the capital city and see his people, at least a little, it helps. But this, being out of the capital and seeing his kingdom, his lands, it makes everything feel more real.
It reminds Seokjin how much he does love being a prince. How much he loves his home and his countryman, how he would fight to protect them. It makes the weight of all his duties and obligations, the weight of a marriage he, secretly, doesn’t really want, feel a little less heavy.
And when he tucks himself into the featherbed at the inn that night, Seokjin feels a little more refreshed.
All in all, despite some soreness in his thighs and backside from being astride his horse so much, Seokjin thinks the journey so far is decently comfortable. It makes him feel a little silly for the bedroll he has strapped to his saddle, the extra supplies he brought with him. Staying at inns each night with comfortable beds and warm baths, stopping for breaks, and enjoying the company of his men, Seokjin thinks it could be much worse. Despite the lack of news of Jimin, and the growing certainty in his chest that this quest may take longer than he anticipated, he doesn’t find it especially hard.
A good portion of it feels like posturing, if he’s being honest. Showing that he’s out doing something, that he is making a difference. Or some such nonsense, riding with his head high and the banners of his house streaming behind him.
Or that’s how it feels until the afternoon of the fifth day, when they reach the edge of the Western Kingdom. It’s not a huge shift, no great barrier defining the difference between the territories. But there is a sign, displaying the distance to the next town, and a stone marker showing the sigil of the Central Kingdom.
It’s here that his men stop, halting their horses before they cross past the marker. The man in charge, one of Seokjin’s own personal guards, rides up to him, stopping at Seokjin’s side.
“We can go no further, your highness,” he states. “The treaty with the Central Kingdom does not allow us to pass the border without permission."
And Seokjin knows this, expected it. They left too quickly to get permission for him to take any sort of army or company of men with him. It’s just… he really did think they’d find Jimin before this moment.
“Well,” Seokjin begins, trying to keep his voice light, “I suppose I’m on my own then?”
“We’ll wait at the last town back for a few days,” the man says with a nod back the way they came. “In case you return shortly, we can ride back with you.”
Seokjin nods, glancing at the gathered men. He doesn’t expect to encounter any sort of trouble on the road, they haven’t encountered any so far, but the thought of being alone… it feels a bit strange. No one to assist him if he needs help, no one to guide him in his quest.
But Seokjin has his maps, he has his sword. He is strong and capable, he is a prince.
Straightening in his saddle, Seokjin clears his throat, raising his voice to address the gathered company. “Thank you for your service so far,” he declares. “I am sure I will be returning shortly, with Prince Jimin at my side.”
The men cheer, clapping and whistling for him, and Seokjin smiles.
“Keep an ear out for any news, and I will rejoin you soon.”
Another round of cheers, and then the men are turning their horses to face back the way they came. Seokjin’s royal guard hesitates at his side, looking conflicted about leaving him. “Be safe, my prince,” he says. “Be careful.”
Seokjin fights the urge to bristle, wanting to say that he can take care of himself. But he nods instead, murmuring a thank you, knowing it’s real concern, and waves the man away.
There is a finality to it. Seokjin sits on his horse, idly patting the gelding’s mane as he watches his men ride away. He stays there longer than he probably should, the mounted figures disappearing into the distance.
“Hey!”
Seokjin startles at the sound of a voice, his horse shying a little as Seokjin jerks his head around. A man on a black horse trots toward him, coming from an intersecting road to the south. The man, or Seokjin thinks it’s a man by the voice, is wearing a black cloak that obscures his face and hair.
“Pardon me?”
He hears a snort as the man trots by. “Get out of the road if you’re just going to stand there,” the rider calls, gruff and unfriendly. The man clucks to his horse and the black mare speeds up, the two of them rounding a corner and disappearing from view.
And - and Seokjin just sits there, gaping. He blinks in stunned confusion. Never has he been addressed with such blatant disrespect. No one would dare to speak to him like that, not even his parents have ever spoken to him that way.
He has half a mind to chase after the man, maybe shout at him. Perhaps he could have his arrested and punished, but - by who?
Seokjin slumps a little in his saddle as the dust settles, the sound of hooves long faded. He is not the prince of this kingdom. He is not in his homeland anymore and, here by himself, no one knows who he is.
As he urges his horse on, following after the black cloaked man, Seokjin realizes that he is very much alone.
✷✷✷
The road stretches before Seokjin, trees on either side of him opening up to rolling fields. He cannot see the man who rode by him anymore, cannot see any other travelers, and as the sun sinks, Seokjin lets himself relax a little. It feels strange to be alone, to be so wholly by himself.
He can’t really remember the last time he’s been alone. In the castle, even if he was alone in his chambers, there were guards outside the room. People coming and going, rushing around. There was no truly sacred space for him there in the castle, or in the capital city. The forest, perhaps, where Seokjin would sometimes steal away to catch his breath. But even then, he was so close to home, and there were still guards relatively nearby.
But now, Seokjin is by himself. He’s a little surprised that his father even allowed this, allowed him to go completely on his own. It must mean he trusts in Seokjin’s strength and abilities, or thinks this is a low stakes matter. Maybe both. The reasons don’t really matter, only that Seokjin is here.
Here in the Central Kingdom, outside of his homeland. Seokjin has not left his own kingdom since his childhood. And even then, it was only once. It was here, to the Central Kingdom, to the capital for some big event. Seokjin tries to remember the details, but they’re mostly fuzzy. A treaty signing or something of that nature.
But he remembers the excitement of it. An adventure, nose pressed to the window of the carriage he rode in with his mother, taking in all the sights. None of it was much different from their own kingdom, especially just on the road, but it all felt new and exciting to a young Seokjin.
It still feels that way now, he thinks to himself, smiling idly.
Back then, his father had let him ride into the capital city with him. Seokjin sitting tall upon his horse at his father’s side, gazing up at the high limestone walls of the Central Kingdom’s capital city, at the castle towering on a hill above the sprawl of the city.
It had only been a few days, but Seokjin remembers how it felt. To be somewhere new, to meet the crown prince of the Central Kingdom and sneak away to play in the gardens. Moments where he could be young and carefree, excitement and wonder filling him.
That same wonder now, despite the road looking nearly the same as in the Western Kingdom. It doesn’t matter, it’s the newness, the adventure. Seokjin can’t help the bubble of excitement he feels, his head on a swivel as he rides. Alone and exploring, seeing the world. He hasn’t been able to do this, bogged down by rules and duty.
So to have this moment, no matter the reason… maybe Seokjin can think of it as an opportunity.
Despite being alone, despite the mission he has, he can appreciate this. Maybe, somehow. Appreciate the adventure of it.
There’s a soaring feeling in his chest and he feels himself smiling slightly as he urges his horse on, rounding a corner through a copse of trees and emerging at the top of a rise. When he looks down below him, he can see the spread of a small town a short distance ahead.
His smile grows as he imagines what could lie before him, an inn with comfortable beds and warm baths. A glance at the horizon shows him the sun is close to setting and he kicks his horse forward, beginning to descend toward the town. After another day of riding, he’s ready for a night of rest.
✷✷✷
The town Seokjin comes upon is small, a few houses and shops, an inn close to the great road. He dismounts his horse outside the inn, handing the reins to a stable boy who rushes out to him. The boy doesn’t bow or call him your highness and it feels odd to be treated like just another traveler. But Seokjin brushes it off, grabbing his bags strapped to the saddle before his horse is led away.
Shouldering his bag, Seokjin pushes through the door into the inn. He pauses inside the door, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light as he glances around. There are a few people sitting around tables, tankards and bowls in front of them. They glance toward Seokjin as he enters, eyeing him critically.
Seokjin knows what they must see. His silk shirt and embroidered jacket, the fine leather of his boots. Even the way he carries himself makes him stand out, shows that he doesn’t fit in. But despite how out of place he must look, Seokjin is not a coward. And he does not back down from a challenge, even with so many less than friendly eyes on him.
He ignores the people at the tables and they slowly go back to their food and drink, leaving Seokjin to wander across the floor to the bar against the far wall. There’s a man behind it, wiping a glass as he watches Seokjin approach.
There’s no offered greeting as Seokjin reaches the man, but he still offers a smile. “Good evening,” Seokjin begins, “I was hoping to rent a room for the night?”
The man gives him a clear up and down, eyes flitting over the gold thread in Seokjin’s dark blue jacket, up to his hair, and back to his face. “We only have one room left,” he replies. “Twenty five gold.”
Seokjin’s smile slips a little. That seems expensive. Even when it was him and his company of men at the inns, things didn’t seem that excessive. He can pay it, has plenty of gold in the pouch on his belt, but it doesn’t seem quite right.
“That’s too much,” Seokjin says, shaking his head.
The innkeeper shrugs, going back to wiping the glass in his hand. “All we got.”
“I paid far less back over the border in the Western Kingdom,” Seokjin challenges. He wants to say he’s a prince, ask if the innkeeper knows who he is, who he’s being so rude to… but Seokjin doesn’t think it will make any difference.
Another shrug. “This isn’t the Western Kingdom.”
Too true.
“I’ll give you fifteen.”
“Twenty three.”
“Seventeen.”
“Twenty.”
“Done,” Seokjin says quickly, reaching for the money pouch at his side. He feels vindicated, and maybe a little proud that he was about to get the price down. Clearly he can manage fine on his own. Now he can -
A chuckle to his right has Seokjin pausing. He lowers his hand from his belt, head turning to find the source of the laughter. There’s a man beside him, leaning against the bar and staring at Seokjin. His arms are crossed over his chest and his head is tilted to the side, platinum hair shiny beneath the candelabra hanging from the ceiling. And he’s - he’s laughing.
At Seokjin.
“Can I help you?” Seokjin questions, squinting at the man.
“Doubtful,” the man says between chuckles, voice deep and rich. He cocks a brow. “Seems like you’re the one who needs help.”
Seokjin frowns, taking another look at the man. His clothes are dusty and travel worn, dark cloak thrown back to expose a shirt and vest. There’s a quiver of arrows peeking from over his shoulder and a short knife at his hip. He looks unsavory. “I’m perfectly fine,” he snaps.
“Really?” The man leans forward a little, amber eyes dancing in the candlelight. “Because it looks as if you’re about to be swindled out of your fancy frilly shirt.”
Blinking, Seokjin gawks at the man for a moment before straightening up, drawing himself to his full height. “I don’t know who you think you are -”
“Well I know who you think you are,” the man cuts in, a sly smile playing at his lips. “Fancy little lord comes riding in like he owns the place. I’m sure you’re very important wherever you’re from. Important enough to pay twenty gold for a room that I’ll pay far less for.”
Seokjin bristles, he is important. “I’ll have you know -”
“There really is only one room,” the innkeeper chimes in, looking completely unbothered when Seokjin and the man both glance at them. “If you’re both wanting rooms, that is.”
“I need one as well,” the traveler says, glancing back at Seokjin.
Seokjin barely resists the urge to stick out his tongue at him.
“Well,” the innkeeper continues, looking between them, “since the two of you seem so chummy, you can share.”