Chapter Text
It had been a hundred years since the dragons went extinct. Seventeen years since the Jeon Kingdom fell after the death of the Mad King and almost his entire family. Seventeen years after Jeon Jihoon and Jeon Jungkook, the two youngest sons of the Dragon King, escaped with their soldiers and survived the attack.
Jeon Jihoon was twenty-eight, and Jeon Jungkook was twenty, living on a different continent across the Sea of Abyss in the Kingdom of their old ally. While Jeon Jungkook was bundled up in the arms of the army general Kim Junho, unaware of everything around them, Jeon Jihoon remembered. He remembered their mother sacrificed herself for their survival. He recalled watching helplessly as his older brother fell with a sword between his chest. The younger Prince grew with love, but the older Prince grew with pure hatred and the desire to reclaim what they lost. Jungkook, unfortunately, had to bear the responsibility of helping his brother achieve that.
Part of that responsibility included wearing one of the finest gowns with the Jeon sigil that belonged to his mother and attending the event where the ruthless and feared King of the Dirikyan Tribe, the strongest warriors, who ruled a tiny portion of land called Dirikya, would select his bride or groom. He had to make sure that he would get picked to be the groom of the blood-thirsty, feared, savage general. So that after he gets under the good grace of the King, his brother would receive military help to become the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms.
Jungkook tried to fight his decision. He begged Jihoon not to sell him off to someone like King Taehyung. He tried to escape several times with his best friend and guard, Kim Namjoon, but he was always caught and convinced to go with the decision. When the slaps did not work, his brother continuously manipulated the younger's emotions until he caved. Jungkook did not remember his mother, his brother, or his father. But he heard about how beautiful and kind his mother was and how brave and skilled his older brother was. His heart ached at the thought of them and their unfair fate. "They would want us to fight for what's ours, Jungkookie." So Jungkook agreed to avenge the people he loved through the stories he was told.
He was in an open field in the Dirikya Kingdom, standing with his brother and countless other men and women, awaiting the arrival of the King. Jungkook would be more shocked at the presence of so many people willing to marry someone called the Lord of Death, but he was distracted by people's sly, mocking gazes and grins as they whispered amongst themselves while looking at him.
"Namjoon, is something wrong with my appearance?" He whispered to the guard next to him, feeling self-conscious.
"No, my Prince. You look beautiful." He sported the brotherly smile that his blood had not given him.
"I feel like people here are looking at me strangely. Or maybe I am too paranoid." Jungkook whispered the last part and tried not to look back at the eerie gazes.
The soldier lifted his head to look in the direction the young Prince pointed at, and his eyes drooped a little when he understood the reason.
He hesitated to answer the younger, and his brother snipped in from his other side. "It's because they have never seen a man wear gowns."
"But you told me to wear them." He whisper-yelled at the grinning man next to him.
"I hoped that would capture Kim Taehyung's attention. Besides, you love wearing gowns, you freak." He snickered at the last part, and Jungkook bit his tongue in anger.
However, it was true. Jungkook loved to wear gowns; according to the late General Kim, it was customary in their culture. 'Clothes had no rules,' he would say. 'Men and women would wear the same clothes in the Seven Kingdoms.' And Jungkook found his mother's gowns much more attractive than the ones the men would wear. But his brother assimilated to the norms of the new continent they were in.
Jungkook wanted to retort, but the sound of a trumpet shadowed everyone's chatters on the premises.
It was a signal of the arrival of the King and his men.
He followed the suit of the others and kept his head bowed low when the slow gallop of the horse cut through the silence. Then Jungkook heard a soldier announce something in a foreign language, and he did not know whether he was supposed to look up, but he kept staring at his feet because he feared what he would see. An old, ugly man with hair sticking out in all directions wearing bear skins as clothes. That was what he imagined his future to be.
But the universe wanted him to glimpse at his future because the King's horse stopped right in front of him. He clenched his eyes shut in hopes that the horse would start to move again, but there was no ignoring the King when his brother gently nudged him. Hesitantly, he lifted his head and willed himself not to cry and potentially cause a scene. However, the breath got knocked out of his lungs when he looked. A gasp was audible as he needed the air to fill up his lungs again after seeing who Kim Taehyung was.
A gorgeous, stunning and magnificent man with fierce, intimidating eyes that screamed with power. And it was directed at Jungkook like he was analyzing the younger. Jungkook could not read his expression, but he felt small and more insecure about his appearance under those stormy gaze trying to read every pages of his book. What if Lord Taehyung was staring at him because he was disturbed by Jungkook's gown? Well, at least then, he would not be picked to be his groom. Despite Kim Taehyung's gorgeous appearance–his midnight hair that stopped right above his shoulder, golden-tanned skin, and gifted face–Jungkook was scared of all the tales of his heinous activities. He was afraid of the monster under the face of the angel.
Jungkook felt like he could finally breathe again when the King averted his gaze and continued to move forward until he reached the fort where he would sit. Jungkook watched him as he dismounted the ebony horse and took his designated seat. With a flick of his wrist, the event finally began.
And he was supposed to seduce the man against his will for his Kingdom.
.
.
.
Contrary to what he was supposed to do, Jungkook tried to be as invisible as possible. He did not want to garner any attention towards him, especially the one that belonged to the Lord of Death. Said Lord was watching people dance in front of him with a stoic uninterested look.
Jungkook would rather be anywhere other than in this event because of how unfamiliar and unwelcoming everything around him felt. However, he should have been the most worried about his brother.
"Why are you hiding, little brother?" He asked through his clenched teeth when he caught Jungkook intentionally being avoidant.
"I'm not hiding." He said in a shaky voice, eyes almost pleading with his brother not to force him to do something. But he knew his pleas would go unheard.
"Go join the dance." He commanded. Jungkook shook his head, but his brother was having none of that. He wondered if his brother wanted him to catch the King's attention and favour or merely used it as an excuse to make Jungkook look like the biggest fool of the event. "Come fucking dance, brother. I know you can dance."
"It's not the same dance." The dance was a traditional Dirikyam dance that many potential brides and grooms learnt to impress Taehyung. Jungkook did not. But that did not matter to Jihoon because he grabbed him by his wrist and pushed him towards the dance floor. Since the Dragon God wanted to punish him today, the younger collided with one of the visitors and fell on the floor, grabbing everyone's attention.
The music stopped, and everyone murmured in displeasure and curiosity. Under all of their judgemental eyes, Jungkook felt too mortified to get up, and his brother, the cause of everything, did not even lend him his hand. He felt the tears he had tried his hardest to contain began to flow out.
Jungkook did not know how long he was silently crying on the floor when he felt a hand on his shoulder. At first, he thought it was Namjoon, but then he saw the black pants and the layered black peerage he had seen on top of the horse. He tilted his head upwards to see Kim Taehyung standing before him with his hand outstretched for the younger to take.
Taehyung's face remained expressionless, and he was silent, which Jungkook concluded was because he could not speak his language. The Prince could not understand the intention of the King when he was the only one who came to the younger's aid. But he decided to take the risk and accepted the hand to lift himself.
He did not realize that once he did that, he would be face to face with the Lord of Death, who happened to be the most handsome man the younger had ever laid his eyes on. He was so much more attractive now that they were only inches apart with his almond-shaped siren eyes decorated with long eyelashes, strong sculpted jawline, straight nose and full pink lips. At that moment, Jungkook forgot about his fears and his tears, and he only focused on the fluttering feeling inside the heart that he had read about in his books coming to life.
The magical, unexplainable feelings disappeared when their hands disconnected. The King did not speak to him before turning around and going back to his seat. Jungkook watched the retreating back of the midnight-haired man he feared with a new, confusing feeling stuck in the pit of his stomach. Once the older sat down, he met his eyes again briefly as the music started to play. Everyone's focus went back to dancing, and the room began to feel less suffocating.
His brother stood in the same spot he had pushed Jungkook from with a displeased and vexed expression, even though had no right to be upset with him because he had forced him into the situation. "I hope you are happy with that stunt?" he whispered menacingly.
"Stunt? You pushed me!" Jungkook spat out.
"That was barely a nudge." Jungkook rolled his eyes at the lie but did not push forward.
"Whatever." He mumbled and was about to leave the fortress for some air when his brother grabbed his arm again to prevent him from leaving.
"King Kim is an excellent-looking man and a great leader. It's not like I'm trying to wed you off to a literal savage. You need to stop being a brat." Jungkook wanted to argue that if anyone had been a brat throughout their life, it was his brother. He was so consumed by the idea of being the King of the Seven Kingdoms, but he never did anything to achieve that goal except command others.
But the reply died in his tongue when Jihoon started to talk again, "I know you don't remember much from our childhood, so it is hard for you to see my reasons. I remember how they gutted mother in front of us while you were in my arms. I still remember our older brother Jiwon in a pool of his blood with his wife and tiny children all massacred. They took everything from us, Jungkook. Our dragons, our throne, our family… This might be our best chance at avenging their death. So do it for them if you can't do it for me." Jihoon's livid eyes were replaced with those carrying the tones of melancholy. It always does when he talks about their family.
The genuine pain in his brother's eyes was the reason why he always agreed to his commands. "Okay," he said softly. “I will sing for the King," Jungkook says, watching his brother's eyes shine with delight at his offer because the younger Prince is known to be a gifted singer amongst their close family, and he only sings when he is with his close circle.
"I will let the King know." His brother said excitedly.
Jungkook sighed as he watched the older move forward to Taehyung. He breathed deeply to calm the anxiety in his chest before following his brother to where the King and his men were seated.
The younger had his eyes averted from the King and everyone else in the room as their curious or critical gazes were the last thing he needed to fight against the nerves of singing. When the room fell silent, Jungkook knew that the request had been translated to the others, and they were all looking at him expectantly. To alleviate himself from all the pressure, his eyes searched for the one that radiated the most heat and landed on Taehyung's fierce, emotionless dark eyes. However, Jungkook was transfixed, and his body accepted those unreadable eyes as his anchor.
He was unconscious of everything else except the King in front of him, who did not avert his eyes from him once. The melody of the song played inside his head, and the lyrics of the Dragonborn flowed out of his mouth.
Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart
I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes.
With a Voice wielding the power of the ancient Valyrian art
Believe, believe the Dragonborn comes.
It's an end to the evil of all Valyria's foes
Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes.
For the darkness will pass, and the legends will grow
You'll know, you'll see when the Dragonborn comes.
While Jungkook sang, Taehyung did not look away from him even once. The glass expression of indifference on his face shattered into one of awe and fascination unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Fascination with the soft blond-haired boy with dewy, unblemished golden skin, warm brown doe-eyes and petal-like pink lips that moved to draw out the words sung with the most beautiful angelic voice he had ever heard.
It was hard to verbalize the foreign emotions that the voice evoked within him in any language, but the best way to describe it was that Taehyung felt captivated. And the younger was no different. With the soft haze of fondness in Taehyung's eyes reserved only for him and the slight lift at the corners of his lips, all the previous uneasiness mellows away, and it is just him and the King left.
.
.
.
Despite the inexplicably magical moment Jungkook had with the Lord of Death, he was not sure he would be picked to be his groom. As soon as the song ended, the spells that held the world back faded into the midnight air. King Taehyung's invisible walls came up, and the silence in the room was filled with chatters from people surrounding him. Even though Jungkook did not understand what they were saying, the enthusiastic smiles clouding their face made him conclude that he did a good job. However, everything went back to the way it was so fast that Jungkook questioned whether he hallucinated the entire thing because his heart was trying to flood his brain with good things and flush out the fears.
The night ended when the King wordlessly got on top of his stallion without speaking to anyone, including Jungkook. Jihoon seemed visibly more displeased than the younger at the his lack of interest and acknowledgement. Jungkook also felt a twinge of dismay, but it was overshadowed by the relief over the night ending. He was no longer under the scrutiny of others and hoped that he would never have to be again.
However, the universe never favoured his wishes.
Or maybe she had plans to give him a beautiful gift he never knew he needed.
.
.
.
.
Seven days after he met Kim Taehyung for the first time, he was walking down a pathway, wearing his most glamorous, crystal embroidered, and luxurious white gown. Jungkook's wedding gown covered almost all of his body, with a low dip down his neck to the top of his torso, revealing parts of his well-built pecs and abs. His sleeves hugged his muscular arms like a second skin, and the fabric tightened around his tiny waist to make it seem more enticing. Lastly, the flowy embroidered skirt dragged along the floor covered in petals.
The King stood at the end of the path, wearing his traditional black Dirikyam robe over his warrior suit and a crown of tiny pieces of his slain enemies' blades. He was waiting for him with a dazed look on his face. The same one Jungkook saw when he sang for him.
Jungkook wanted to run away when his brother burst into his room with the biggest smile he had ever seen, shouting that Kim Taehyung had sent a letter stating he desired the young Prince to be his King consort. But then, a voice in his head that he had never heard before rationalized that the small moments of spark he experienced with the King were mutual. He rationalized that Kim Taehyung appeared to be decent and calm. Lastly, he rationalized that he was good to his subject, so he would be good to Jungkook as well. Nothing like the savage beast he was described to be. Maybe on the battlefield with his enemies. The only issue he could think of was that they could not communicate. Not that the King seemed like a talker despite that.
While Jungkook was fighting the fear and nervousness that was leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, Taehyung was enchanted by the beauty walking towards him. The whispers were not lying when they told him that the sheer vision of the youngest Prince in his wedding gown could bring a man or a woman to their knees in devotion because his knees felt weak. But Taehyung realized that the beauty of the Prince extended further than his exquisite appearance.
The sparkling brown eyes of innocence, accompanied by gentle mannerisms, were aversive to immorality. Aversive to the callousness, even when others were callous. Aversive to him. Of all the people present to be chosen by the King, Jungkook was the only one with zero intentions to be his husband. His brother, on the other hand, was a different case.
Contrary to popular belief, Taehyung was not a monster who picked Jungkook because he wanted to make him submit against his will. The King had many enemies from the neighbouring Kingdoms who were always trying to find ways to infiltrate his castle and find out what made him the Lord of Death. Taehyung was an unpredictable threat despite ruling over the tiniest piece of land on the continent, and they wanted to be aware of his strategies and weaknesses.
Jungkook was his only safe option. However, he would never admit that the foreign pressure inside his chest at the sight of the young Prince played a considerable role in his decision. The foreign pressure was pushing for his nonchalant front to break. And maybe it did. Maybe Taehyung was shamelessly gawking at the blond angel incarnate with a frivolous smile. He would not know because his mind was too occupied by the Prince, who now stood before him.
Taehyung's eyes contained a spell that had the power to hold him captive from all the nagging anxiety. They were like frozen eyes most of the time, but twice, he had removed the barriers to unleash the magic that would lull Jungkook's racing soul. If he could have that gentle gaze pooling with honey throughout their marriage behind closed doors, then he would be more than willing to connect his soul with the older one.
It was time for the wedding ceremony to commence. Jungkook did not understand the priest's words, so he depended on social cues to guide his actions. He had researched the Dirikyam wedding rituals and mentally prepared himself, so he was not surprised when he saw Taehyung pull out a dagger made of steel melted by the dragon's fire. He did wince when the elder glided the knife diagonally against the skin of his thumb to draw out blood.
The thumb made contact with his forehead, and Jungkook felt the blood mark him. The King grabbed his jaw gently to spread the blood on both of his cheeks, while he could not avert his eyes from him. His lips unintentionally parted when his eyes fell on Taehyung's full ones. He knew what to do when the finger hovered over his plush bottom lips. Without breaking eye contact with the King's darkening eyes, he parted his lips further to accept the bloodied thumb inside his mouth. The older breathed in deeply when Jungkook wrapped his mouth around the digit and sucked the blood out. He expected himself to be repulsed by the coppery taste of blood, but he was too distracted. Too distracted by the beating heart. Too distracted by the fuzzy feeling inside his stomach. Too distracted by his husband's stormy, wild gaze with his pupils fully dilated.
Too distracted by the realization that they were finally married.
The final step to seal their agreement for life under the gaze of the Dragon Gods was to press their lips together. It was unclear who was the one to lean forward first to connect their lips after the finger was pulled out, but one thing was sure. They were both desperate to taste each other. They craved it. And they savoured it.
.
.
.
Instances like the one he was experiencing left Jungkook in disarray about his feelings for Taehyung. The kiss had left the younger feeling breathless and filled with warm, giddy bubbles around his heart. His mind reeled from the softness of the King's lips and his tongue pressing against his shy one to taste the remnants of the blood. It was Jungkook's first kiss, everything he hoped for, and more. But the confusing portion comes from the emergence of the wall of indifference on his husband's face as soon as they pull back. That mask remained consistent throughout the rest of the evening as they sat together at the head of the table, watching their people dance in front of them in celebration.
Jungkook's brother did not accompany them to the reception ceremony because he had to take care of some business in their residence. And he would lie if he said he was not relieved. His brother only felt like an added burden, trying to control him in every possible way to get what he wanted. The younger did not need Jihoon to cause more problems for him, especially on his wedding day. Only he and Namjoon were left in the Palace with Taehyung's court of people.
As for Taehyung and Jungkook, the duo occasionally shared glances without any further forms of communication. The King never attempted to talk to him, and neither did Jungkook. There were so many times he wanted to say something to Taehyung with the help of his new maid, who spoke in comprehensible English with a strong accent and could translate his words into Dirikyan, but he would shy away.
It certainly did not help his awkwardness when he noticed glances from the other Dirikyan soldiers. He did not want to look too deeply into it and concluded that it might be due to his outfit choice. He should be used to it. But something malicious behind their smiles and lingering eyes made Jungkook anxious.
When he felt too overwhelmed by the looks he was receiving, he turned to his maid standing behind him and whispered, "Are they talking about my dress again?" He hoped the answer was 'yes'.
The maid stood up straight to analyze the soldiers Jungkook was pointing at. He watched her turn to another maid and inquire about the guests' discussion of their new King consort. He observed his maid's reactions and watched her absorb the answer to his question with a frown on her face.
She turned back to him and crouched down next to his ears. "My Lord… The guests were talking about the Jeon family tradition."
Jungkook was even more confused now. "What… tradition?" he asked, distracted by his thoughts, trying to recall anything about his family that he had forgotten.
"You and His Majesty…" That's when it hit Jungkook, and he felt all the blood drain down his face. He had read about a post-wedding ceremony in the books of the Seven Kingdoms, with the newlyweds consummating in front of everyone. A tradition Jungkook never wanted to be part of because it felt violating. He was never romantically or physically involved with anyone, and he certainly did not want his first time to be under the gazes of all these soldiers. Even the excited glares coming from them made him feel sick in his stomach.
But how did they know about their custom?
"Your brother told them about this wedding custom yesterday…" Of course. Of course, it was Jihoon. Of course, his brother would not miss the opportunity to humiliate him even when he was absent.
But the King agreed to that? He glanced at Taehyung with betrayed eyes while the King talked to one of his men. But Jungkook did not even know the older man, and everything he had witnessed and heard did not indicate his high sense of morals.
The room felt suffocating and hot, and the air refused to enter his lungs, and his eyes burnt with tears. He was on the edge of hyperventilating because everything felt so overwhelming.
"I need some air." He spoke softly before dashing out of the room, not registering the head turning towards his direction in worry.
Jungkook ended up in one of the random rooms down the hallway and thanked his luck that there was a balcony for him to breathe in the fresh air. When he was only sheltered by the moonlight, he let the tears flow freely down his cheeks, and the quiet sobs broke out. He was engulfed by the emotional rollercoaster he had to endure these past few weeks leading up to him finally marrying the Lord of Death. Every time he would feel better, he would get harshly pulled down. When he thought his marriage with Taehyung might not be as rocky and miserable as he had assumed, he got the cold treatment and now has to prepare himself for public degradation in his most vulnerable state. This was what he would live with for the remainder of his life. Not the kind of romance he would so passionately read about.
He momentarily stopped crying when he felt a presence behind him. However, when he turned to look at the room, no one was in sight. It was just him, the moon, and his misery. He had to be strong enough not to break down again and mentally prepare himself for the night.
However, the atmosphere shifted when he entered the hall where his reception was taking place. Everyone seemed to be quieter than before. Not only was no one looking towards him, but it felt like they were being avoidant of his presence. Before he could contemplate the abrupt change, he was approached by his maid and Namjoon.
"My Lord, we shall retire to your quarters now," Namjoon told him.
"The reception ended?" Jungkook asked in shock. Was the consummating ceremony not taking place? Or did Taehyung expect him to be prepared by his maids before he took his virtue?
"Yes. King Taehyung decided to cut it short and asked everyone to return to their respective residence."
"Oh." He was shocked, but the giddy feeling crept back into his stomach. "The King really asked everyone to leave?" He was not even fighting the smile of relief that overtook his features.
Namjoon nodded, "Amongst a lot of other things that I could not decipher. But he did seem livid." Their curious gaze simultaneously fell on their maid, Kira, for further context.
Kira took that as her cue to speak, "He told them that he would gauge out their eyes if they ever looked at Lord Jungkook like that again."
The butterflies were finally unleashed out of their cages to fly all over Jungkook's nerves. Never in his life did Jungkook have someone stand up for him. He always stood up for himself when he was not pleased with things against his wishes. This was one of the rare times he felt he could not oppose without getting bruises that would not heal. But his husband did. Not only did he dismiss the public mating ritual, but he also threatened them to protect Jungkook. He knew it was the bare minimum a husband could do, but it was the first indication for Jungkook that his husband was not the monster he should be afraid of.
Throughout the time he was being washed, he pondered ways to show his gratitude to Taehyung. He could make Kira write a letter for him, but that seemed too impersonal. He could give him a gift. Something he made with his own hand. But then his mind wanders to a space that makes the blood rise up his cheeks.
His husband, Kim Taehyung, was a gorgeous specimen, and Jungkook was more than aware of it. So was his body, which felt like melted ice under Taehyung's molten gaze. The rare ones that were only reserved for short moments but were so enchanting. Jungkook also went back to the feeling of his lips at the wedding after. Insistent lips were prying his shy ones open. The suction on his bottom lips was accompanied by the gentle massage of the tongue. The taste of the tongue that pressed against his own. The feeling of his warm breath against his face. The rough hand wrapped delicately around his jaw. The press of their bodies together with the galloping heart. The hyperactive nerves send impulses of jitters all over his body.
It was safe to assume that when Jungkook was not preoccupied with the thought of his husband being a tyrant, he was preoccupied with certain less-than-innocent thoughts.
Therefore, the perfect plan to repay Taehyung's kindness was to fulfill his duty as his mate. He sat on their marital bed, wearing a sheer robe, waiting for the King to come. As every married couple does, he was willing to offer himself to his husband on their first night. He was nervous beyond comprehension, but there was a loud underlying excitement. He was sure the King would look at him with those warm honey eyes when it'd be just them inside their safe haven. And he shamelessly craved that.
He sat up straight and took a final look over his attire, feeling a mixture of anxiety and excitement when he heard the King's footsteps. The first thing Taehyung's eyes caught was his own, and as usual, an invisible hand of air wrapped itself around Jungkook's neck. The younger saw his husband's eyes widen next when he absorbed the full sight of him, and the Prince took that as a positive sign. He kept looking at Taehyung in anticipation of his next move.
The slight smile Jungkook did not know he had on his face started to fade when the King's next move was to divert his eyes away and walk toward the drawers next to their bathroom. The Prince watched in contempt as his husband took out a spare pillow and a blanket before walking out of the room they were supposed to share. Left without a glance, word, or sign to acknowledge the man on his bed. The feeling pooling inside his bloodstream was hard to describe, but it was unpleasant. It was the one that rose up his throat and squeezed it from the inside. His head felt heavy with confusion and insecurity. Did he read everything all wrong?
Jungkook felt ridiculous when he glanced at his outfit again. He also felt silly for thinking the King was hiding behind a facade he put on for the public, which would drop when it would just be them two. But that was his default and Jungkook's reality was not as romantic as he fantasized.
Sleep caught up to the Prince while he was still pondering due to his overall exhausting day.
.
.
.
When Jungkook awoke after a long sleep, his husband was nowhere in sight. He was not surprised because the older was a King and a warrior who'd train his soldiers in the field with their Army General. But he felt the sting in his heart at the thought of being abandoned by his own husband on their wedding night. He rationalized that it must have been due to some political work requiring his dedication because he did end the reception early. He locked the pessimistic thoughts inside his head and began his day with a positive mindset, attempting to get closer to his husband.
The first person he met after exiting his room was Namjoon, who stood by his door from around the time he knew the Prince would wake up. "Good morning, my Prince." Namjoon bowed and smiled sweetly.
"Good morning, Namjoon." He greeted.
Upon hearing Jungkook's voice from the servant's room next to the main room, Kira appeared. "Morning, your Majesty." She spoke with her thick accent.
"Morning, Kira."
"I will take you to the dining quarter for breakfast," she said, leaning toward where she would lead the Prince.
"Will the King be there?" He sounded too pathetically hopeful when he asked that.
Kire smiled tightly when she answered, "The King already had his breakfast two hours ago." Jungkook felt a portion of his optimistic confidence dropped.
"And where was the King last night?" Jungkook felt Namjoon look at him in confusion. The guard did not know that the younger spent his wedding night alone.
Jungkook expected to hear the direction of an empty, unoccupied room or his study room. "It is speculated that he was in Lord Jimin's room," Kira answered, and this time, her face did not have a fake smile. It was a pity.
Kim Taehyung, a man of honour who respected Jungkook and the younger had no doubt about that. But the Prince was a fool for thinking that infidelity would not be an option for the King. Every King had a quarter full of concubines and lovers outside of their marriage, including his father and the ally King he lived under, so why should Kim Taehyung be an exception?
Jungkook lost his appetite and every shred of the hopeful thoughts he had conditioned himself to think. But he had a penchant for pain, so he asked Kira, "Take me to where Taehyung is right now." He commanded. He wanted to see his husband, and he wanted his husband to see him and remember that he had married Jungkook. That was his wishful thinking.
.
.
.
.
He regretted his choice the minute he was guided to the training grounds. In front of him, two men were having a sparring contest, and it was clear that the shorter man was a much more skilled fighter than the other. He also recognized the man as the same one sitting next to the King on the selection day and their wedding reception. He concluded that he was someone important to Taehyung, judging by the faint smile on the King's face as he watched the match.
"Who is that?" He asked Kira.
Kira seemed hesitant to answer, which should have been his first red flag. "That's… Lord Jimin."
Jungkook's eyes shot up until his eyebrows disappeared under his hairline. That was Lord Jimin? A warrior? Jungkook had not expected the person Taehyung would sleep with on their wedding night instead of him to be a man wielding swords and skillfully charging at his opponent.
Kira continued, "He is the Army General of our troops."
Oh.
So that meant he was the most trusted man in Taehyung, and they probably knew each other well before Taehyung became the King. Regardless of that knowledge, the more Jungkook stared at Jimin, the more he understood why Taehyung would fancy someone like him. The general was beautiful, with delicate features and a dainty frame that completely contrasted with his skill—flying through the air and gliding his sword swiftly but holding himself back to avoid injuring the other soldier too much. What hurt him the most was the fond smile on Taehyung's face. Something he did not even have the pleasure of witnessing. The King never once smiled at him like he was grinning at Jimin.
Jungkook wondered why the King chose to marry him in the first place when he had eyes set on someone else. Someone who happened to be so close to him.
The combat came to an end, with Jimin standing as the victor, his knife pointed at his opponent's neck. Jungkook saw Taehyung's smile widen at his victory, but it was short-lived because it disappeared. The reason was that Taehyung was looking at Jungkook instead of Jimin. Following the King's eyes, everyone stared at the Prince wearing his casual gown. The feeling of suffocation came back, so without saying a word, Jungkook bowed his head out of courtesy and walked away from the field. He could feel a burning glaze following him until he was out of sight, but he deemed that as his delusion.
He asked Kira to guide him to the garden so that he could read his book. Getting lost in fiction was his best coping mechanism for the harshness of reality. However, even after reading five pages of the book, he could not take his mind away from Taehyung. The most confusing person Jungkook had ever met was his husband. Why did the King even allow him to experience all those butterflies if he was not ready to commit to his husband? Or maybe Jungkook had been delusional all this time, and the reality was finally catching up. Maybe his flower of optimism was wilting.
A pathetic part of him wanted to learn how to fight to grab Taehyung's attention, and he internally scoffed at himself. However, he still hoped to get some love for himself out of this arranged marriage. So he turned to Namjoon, who also sat beside him, reading. "How long did it take you to train?"
The older soldier was caught off-guard by the question, "Training as in fighting?"
Jungkook nodded.
"Well, since my father was an Army general, I was training as young as I can recall."
"Can you train me?" Jungkook asked with a small voice, and he felt ridiculous hearing himself.
Namjoon's eyebrows scrunched up together in confusion. "You never had any interest in training before."
"Just wanted to try something new." He answered while trying to act nonchalant.
"And this desire has nothing to do with the King, right?" Namjoon saw right through him, and Jungkook turned red out of embarrassment. His reaction was enough of an answer for the soldier. "You don't have to be a fighter to please the King, my Prince." He sighed. "Besides, I have never trained anyone before and neither do I remember much of the process."
"You're right," Jungkook said, even though he did not believe it.
He saw Kira approaching them, "It's time for lunch, my Lord."
"I'm not hungry," Jungkook said with an unintentional pout because his appetite did not return.
"Apologies, My Lord, but the King has told me to ensure you are well fed. He was unhappy when he learnt that you did not eat breakfast." Jungkook hated the way his heart stuttered at the mention of Taehyung inquiring whether he ate. Those are the bare minimum, Jungkook. An annoying voice between his ears rang. He is a good man, but that does not mean he fancies you. That part Jungkook could disappointingly agree to.
He also bit back the urge to ask whether the King would be there, but he did not.
Taehyung was absent.
.
.
.
Moping around took more time than Jungkook realized, and it was already time for him to retire to his quarters. He had not seen Taehyung again throughout the entire day. He was not even sure the older would come to their marital room.
One part of the Prince told him it was better than he had envisioned, so he should not be greedy for more. Romance was not even on his bucket list. He only wanted to survive. But he was greedy, and his greed grew more when he felt what he felt around his husband—out of his control.
That was why he was sitting on the bed under the comforter with nothing on—his muscular figure in all its glory. Jungkook was genetically well-built like most Jeon men. But he also did weightlifting because it would make him feel healthy and refreshed. A plus point was that his muscles looked much prettier when wearing the dresses. Maybe without the dress, Taehyung could see how sculpted his husband was and finally agree to share the bed. He blushed profusely.
He had never felt so shameless in his entire life and was mortified that he was acting this desperate. With each minute passing, the nervousness grew because he did not know what he expected the King to do when he arrived. He had heard about the mating processes and how they happened but had no detailed explanation of what he should be doing. He knew that Namjoon loved it because it was pleasurable. But was he ready to have the King's… thing… inside of him? He shivered at the thought of having Taehyung, with his intense eyes exuding dominance and authority over him while he'd be a clueless, embarrassing mess. He hoped the older would take care of him and patiently guide him.
He was lost in his thoughts, clenching the blanket when Taehyung made his way to the room. Jungkook gasped when he saw the King standing in the doorway with his mouth slightly open. The Prince burnt red under those dark eyes, analyzing every inch of his body. Jungkook wished he was confident enough not to feel shy under the gaze pooling with lust. This was what he wanted after all, but he felt so anxious. Unconsciously, he pulled the blanket to cover up more of his body, breaking Taehyung's daze.
The opposite of what Jungkook was anticipating happens again when the King does the same thing he did last night. Jungkook bites his lips to stop them from trembling. He was so stupid for thinking Taehyung would magically change his mind when he saw him act like a whore. His pride felt bruised, and he felt embarrassed when he crashed on the bed. The King must be disgusted by him.
It was another night when he fell asleep with conflicting emotions scratching his throat. Except sleep was more challenging to invite than it was last night.
.
.
.
On his third day at the Dirikya Palace, Jungkook woke up earlier than usual with less enthusiasm and optimism. Sleep was not compatible with the racing thoughts inside of his head. Although he did wish he could spend the rest of the day on his bed with his eyes closed. He did not want to leave the room today and face Kim Taehyung after what happened yesterday. Not that the King would ever face him, judging by their pattern of interactions. The only thing that made him crawl out of bed was the need to do something productive instead of brooding over his non-existent love story. He needed some form of escape.
Jungkook was a man of many different hobbies due to the absurd amount of free time he had growing up. He was a man grown to appreciate art and creativity in all of its forms. And he was a man who could paint. He wanted the brush strokes on a thick piece of paper to distract him from the bane of his existence, Kim Taehyung.
He did not wait for Kira or Namjoon to accompany him and decided to go to the garden himself with his paints, brushes, and art book. They were not around when he exited the room, which he expected, and that gave him a sense of relief. He was not ready to face Namjoon's questioning look and Kira's pity. He would not think about the King today and the proceeding days until that became his norm. His pride was too hurt to continue his attempt at wooing his husband.
He set up his art book against the tree before putting a generous proportion of the paints in his palette. He stared at the empty blank sheet with his brush on one hand and the palette on the other. Usually, he would find his muse in the sky, in the grass, on the trees and in his mind.
But despite his attempt at inhibiting the repulsive thoughts about his husband, the muse that glared back at him from the makeshift canvas was the Dark Lord himself. The corner of his lips was slightly upturned; his eyes were relaxed, dreamy, and contained the warmth of a campfire.
His beautiful husband, who casted a spell on Jungkook to be bewitched by him. His gorgeous, frustrating husband, who had abandoned him on the day they got married. His hurtful husband, who preferred the company of the army general rather than him. His husband who had not made a single attempt at communicating with him. His cruel husband, who lifted Jungkook up before letting him fall to the ground. His husband, who was brutal in ways the Prince did not imagine him to be.
The image of his husband manifested out of his conscious awareness on the paper while his dress and hands were covered in paint. Within the midst of various colours, Taehyung was staring back at him. The action that was supposed to distract him from the thoughts of the Lord of Death became a mocking representation of his failure.
"My Lord!" Jungkook jumped out of his stupor when Kira's voice cut through the air. She looked slightly out of breath as she walked towards him. "My Lord, we have been—" She stopped abruptly when her eyes landed on the canvas. Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open in awe at the art Jungkook created.
Jungkook blushed slightly, as he always does whenever someone acknowledges his talent. He cleared his throat and asked, "What is it, Kira?"
The young woman broke out of the trance to address the Prince again, "My Lord, you were missing from your room. We were all worried."
"What's there to worry about? I'm not a child, I know my way around." Jungkook laughed incredulously. He might have loved pretty things, but he was not fragile or dumb and did not need constant supervision.
"No, my Lord… It's just…" She paused to collect her thoughts before giving Jungkook the perfect answer: "The men around here… They do not think highly of you." She felt nervous telling the truth to Jungkook. However, Jungkook was not surprised that would be the case after what happened on their Wedding day. The fact made him feel more sour and further reinforced the alien feeling inside him. "King Taehyung wants us to protect you from any possible danger." And Jungkook's pathetic heart clenched as always at the slightest mention of Taehyung caring about him.
"Why do they hate me, Kira?" A part of Jungkook already knew the answer as he wiped the remaining paint on his gown. He did not ask the question out of curiosity but out of defeat and self-consciousness.
The maid's eyes brimmed with pity. "You are too… different." She tried to be as polite as possible to avoid hurting Jungkook further.
"It's because, in their eyes, I dress like a woman, right?"
Kira's eyes widened before they got cast with a glaze of sympathy, which was enough confirmation. "They have never met a man like you, and men don't know how to act when they meet someone so different from themselves. And for Dirikyan men, the difference turns into disgust."
Jungkook was not expecting Kira to explain the situation so eloquently, but it was still painful to process. Another spike penetrated his heart when he thought about Taehyung. What if the King was avoiding him for the exact same reason? What if he was disgusted by Jungkook for his outfit as well? "Does the King feel the same way?" He asked Kira without expecting an answer, and Kira did not give him any. However, her silence gutted him more. It was possibly because the young lady did not know the answer, but Jungkook’s mind was already set on the worst.
Jungkook fought the urge to rip the painting in front of him to convey his rage-filled sorrow. The beautiful picture of the King who belonged to him but was not his at the same time. The King, who would never love him the way Jungkook wants, and the younger must live the rest of his life with this knowledge. Accepting that as his harsh reality.
.
.
.
However, the acceptance did not come before the rage that infiltrated his pores. Rage towards the Dirikyan King, who would enter their supposed marital room at any moment. He had many things to say and ask, even though he knew he would not have Kira translate them to Taehyung. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that would allow him to spew filth at the Dark Lord without fearing the loss of his head.
Out of the many profanities inside his head regarding the ill fate he was forced into by his brother and husband, the front-runner was, why? Why did Taehyung marry Jungkook when he knew his people would not respect him? Why did Taehyung marry him when he was already attached to someone else? Why did Taehyung marry him when he felt disgusted by him? Why did he not tell Jungkook to dress in traditional Dirikyan clothes rather than stick to his culture if the gowns bothered them? The younger would not have preferred to wear them, but he was not repulsed by them. He would change minor parts of himself, such as clothing, to please the King.
He was pacing the room when Taehyung walked inside with the same expressionless face that would slightly acknowledge Jungkook's presence. The younger could see in his eyes that his husband was somewhat perplexed by the sight of him out of bed and standing right before him, but he did not waste too much time acquiring the possible cause. He brushed past Jungkook, who was still processing the acceptable words to say to convey the anger within him.
"Your Majesty," was the first time Jungkook addressed his husband after three days had passed. He watched Taehyung's step falter, but his back was still turned towards him. The pause in their activities ended when Jungkook could not voice his thoughts. He was waiting for the older to turn and look at him. Try to understand him. But even that, he was not willing to do.
The ember inside Jungkook turned into a wildfire, and he could not stop himself from yelling, "Kim Taehyung!" He yelled and watched with satisfaction as the King jerked his head to Jungkook in shock. "Have some decency to look at the man you married properly!" He seethed with anger, and Taehyung's usually poker face was overtaken by a look of confusion and concern. Jungkook probably looked like a bumbling idiot yelling in a language he did not know.
The Prince expected the King to sport anger at his lack of courtesy while addressing him, but he remained silent with a hint of curiosity. So many thoughts brewed inside his head, wanting to be spilled out, but when he saw the night clothes in Taehyung's hands, he asked, "Why don't you sleep in your own room? Where the hell do you keep going at night?" He pointed at the clothes.
Taehyung seemingly got the message, and his expression morphed back into his default poker one. He had no answer for Jungkook, even in his own language, and neither did he want to. The King moved to his side to pass the Prince wordlessly. "We are married, for fuck sake! And I don't even know where you are all day! I only see your stupid face when you come to the bedroom to leave!" Jungkook hated himself for the tears streaming down his face. He was never good at being angry because that condensed into him crying pathetically.
"Are you repulsed by me?" A small voice contrasted with the loud one he had utilized seconds before. When Taehyung turned to look at Jungkook again, twin rivers flowed down the flushed cheeks. "Why did you marry me if you are repulsed by me?" He choked on his sob, staring at his husband through blurry vision.
An audible gasp escapes Jungkook involuntarily when he hears an unfamiliar, deep baritone voice penetrate the air around him. "I'm not repulsed by you…"
Jungkook stood with his mouth open in shock when he heard the perfect English leave his husband's mouth—no heavy accent like Kira's or problems with enunciation—someone fluent in his language and understood everything perfectly. That knowledge made Jungkook even more infuriated because, all this time, he thought his husband did not seek him out because they did not have the same language. All these times, Jungkook restricted himself from speaking because he did not want to bother Taehyung.
"You understand me… Yet you never spoke to me." The floodgates of his eyes were open, and no matter how hard the younger tried to keep himself from crumbling, he could feel himself shrinking. It reinforced the idea that Taehyung was indeed averse to the younger no matter what he said. Actions speak louder than words, and this particular one was the most deafening. "Why did you marry me, Kim Taehyung?" Jungkook did not care that Taehyung was his King. He was addressing his husband. His cruel, cruel husband keeps proving to Jungkook that there is always a new way for him to get hurt.
"I'm afraid I won't be able to give you that answer currently." Taehyung's eyes flickered at the teardrop streaming down his face, but he displayed no emotions. If Jungkook was not busy trying to patch his bleeding heart, he'd have seen the tight fist by Taehyung's side with fingers digging deep enough to leave bloody indents.
.
.
.
Jungkook cried quietly with his eyes, refusing to meet Taehyung, and the older man fought the urge to comfort his husband. He did not know how to properly comfort the younger because he was not used to seeing someone vulnerable before him. He felt his leaving would give the Prince more peace and privacy, so he left, not knowing that even the smallest reassurance from him would have made the younger person happier than he felt in his absence.
.
.
.
The day started with a fresh feeling for Jungkook, even though his eyes felt sore from crying himself to sleep. He needed to let those tears out to clear the haze of frustration due to his husband. It also helped that he had a clearer perspective of what Taehyung felt about him and did not have to question the older's lack of affection for him. It still hurt because he was latching onto those subtle moments when Taehyung was kind and let his heart flutter. But he is done crying over him, and he is going to try his hardest to gain control over his heart.
Taehyung was definitely not the reason why Jungkook ditched the gown he was supposed to wear and requested Kira to bring him the traditional Dirikyan outfit. No, he definitely did not want Taehyung to look his way. He did not want to act unbothered by the older after intentionally presenting himself near him. He definitely was not petty enough to make Taehyung regret what he was missing out on. He only wanted to get accepted by the others in the castle and socialize with them.
Saying Jungkook looked handsome in his new attire was an understatement. His blond hair and golden skin stood out in contrast with the black coat that hung over his shoulder and reached the top of his knees. A belt with sockets for his sword tightened it around his tiny waist. He looked much more muscular and broad in his new clothes. Broader than Taehyung and almost the same as Namjoon. He was an image of a strong warrior. His outfit was similar to King's, but the only difference was the white embroidery and feather around the collar instead of black. The young Prince looked breathtaking no matter what he chose to wear.
The first person to notice the difference was Namjoon, who decided to keep his mouth shut, but the arched eyebrows were enough to indicate his shock. It was the first time he saw Jungkook in masculine-typical attire. He had never viewed the Prince as anything other than a man before because he knew how strong Jungkook was beneath the delicate dresses, but it was a surprising sight. But more shocking was the reason behind such change.
"Where is the King?" The Prince asked Kira nonchalantly as they walked down the hallway.
"In the practice ground, my Lord." She answered and was not surprised by the Prince's change in direction towards where his husband was currently training soldiers.
Jungkook carried himself with elegance and flushed out any hint of nervousness from his visuals even though it bubbled like liquid metal inside him. The anticipation of how the King and the soldiers–who were not fond of him–would react when he saw him dressed as them. He wanted them to respect him as the husband of their King even if their King did not prefer him. He preferred Jimin. He hoped to see Lord Jimin on the ground, too, because he had a special request for him.
To his luck, both Taehyung and Jimin sat next to each other on the ground, observing the soldiers sparring in pairs. Unlike the last time, Jungkook's entrance fell on their line of vision. Unlike last time, Taehyung's eyes found him in an instant. His graceful stroll, with his head tipped upwards and shoulders slightly raised. He walked like a warrior, not the dainty Prince everyone views him as. And he hated that he had to be someone he was not to get the attention he deserved from the first day they met.
People surrounding Taehyung also felt his presence, mainly because their King seemed bewitched by the sight of his husband walking towards them. With his flowy, curly golden hair that glowed under the sun, he looked every bit of a dragon prince.
Jungkook smiled internally at the attention he received from Taehyung, but he did not say anything to the older one once he reached the pair. All Taehyung got was a courteous nod before turning his attention to the more petite man beside him, who stood up out of respect for the King's consort. Jungkook was expecting Jimin to sport a sour expression at his sight since he was the other person in his relationship with Taehyung. But surprisingly, the Army General had a charming, polite smile when he looked at the Prince. He did not know whether he had mastered the art of fake smiles or if he genuinely did not hold any animosity towards his lover's husband.
"Lord Jimin," Jungkook addressed him, which mildly surprised the general. From his peripheral vision, he could feel his husband frowning as he stared at the two in confusion. "I believe we have not been formally introduced." He waits for Kira to translate for him, but another voice beats her to it.
"No introduction needed, my Lord. I'm well aware of the golden dragon prince from the Seven Kingdoms." Jimin replied with a flawless accent similar to Jungkook's, which made the latter mentally gasp.
"Oh, you know how to speak my tongue as well. That's a pleasant surprise." Jungkook made sure his smile looked as polite as possible because Jimin was indeed a natural charm. If the Prince did not know him as the thorn in his marriage, he would have swayed under the general's sweet words.
"It's important to have sufficient knowledge of a language used by most of our neighbours and beyond. We don't want our words to get lost in translation." Jimin's eyes twinkled under the sunlight.
Jungkook found it increasingly more challenging to dislike the general because he made up what Taehyung lacked—a complete execution of warmth, friendliness and a way to make the other person feel acknowledged. "That is praise-worthy, although I do have to correct you that I am not the golden dragon prince of the Seven Kingdoms. That would be my brother."
Jimin narrowed his eyes and shook his head, "A dragon is always a dragon, and you shine brighter than your brother. Your aura and beauty give breath to the magnificent dragons the old wandering sailors speak of so fondly."
Jungkook blushed at the general's words. It was the first time in days he had heard someone other than Namjoon communicate with him, and that too with flattering words. If his Dirikyan words were as flawless as his English, the Prince understood why the King preferred the general over him.
Speaking off Taehyung, the King finally decided he had spent enough time glaring at the pair and decided to interfere, "Was there any particular reason behind your visit, my Prince?" He asked Jungkook. The Prince took that as a passive-aggressive question to have him back off from Jimin, and that was not what he was planning to do at all.
Contrary to Jungkook's perspective, Taehyung was far from protecting Jimin. He would rather drag the general on a sparring match for visibly swooning at his husband. In other words, Taehyung was jealous of Jimin.
"Ah yes, Your Majesty. I actually wanted to ask Lord Park to train me how to fight." A pregnant pause followed that statement, and Jungkook felt all eyes fall on him in shock.
"You want to learn how to fight?" Taehyung asked with his eyebrows raised.
"Yes, Your Majesty. I feel quite bored and lonely since I have to spend the whole day alone. So I thought it would be fun to learn how to combat. And who would be a better person to aid me on that than the strongest warrior of the Dirikyan force?" Jungkook was indeed a brat for feeling satisfied by the nearly concealed scoff by his husband. He knew Taehyung was the strongest fighter of Dirikyan and thus earned the name of Lord of Death. He also knew his husband would not be fond of him calling someone else by the title.
However, Jimin remained oblivious to the suffocating tension between the married couple and grinned at the compliment. "It would be my pleasure, my Lord." He bowed to Jungkook. Taehyung rolled his tongue on the side of his cheek, and his eyes bore holes in the back of Jimin's skull.
"I hope to meet you once the Sun sets in the palace garden." He smiled brightly before bowing down to the general. His eyes met his husband's blazing ones, and the older Jungkook would have shivered in fear. But he met those eyes with a smug smile and bowed down to the man he refused to cry for.
Jungkook felt nervous, and he could feel it with sweat oozing around his hair follicles. He wanted to be brave and keep his facade on, but he did not calculate what might happen due to this arrangement. What if Jimin hurt him in the name of training? What if, out of Taehyung's sight, the general turns out to be a completely different person? The evil Jungkook was dreading him to be. Jungkook had no combative skills to save himself, and Namjoon alone could only do so much. Moreover, Jimin was late; the longer it took him to arrive, the more anxiety pooled inside his stomach.
While he fumbled with the edge of the wooden training sword, he heard footsteps approaching. He straightened his back and tried to put on a charming, confident smile to overshadow the fear. However, his expression faltered when he saw the familiar black curls and metal, cold, dark eyes instead. His husband, wearing his warrior suit, walked with his everlasting enigmatic energy into the garden, and the streaks of light from the flames made him look like a predator slowly walking toward his prey.
"Your Highness, I was not expecting to see you here." He said.
Taehyung did not reply to him but looked at Namjoon. "I would like some privacy with my husband."
Jungkook did not know what dared him to say the next word that came out of his mouth: "Namjoon, stay here."
Going against the King's order was considered a felony in most Kingdoms, and he felt Dirikya was no different. "Apologies, Your Highness. But Namjoon is my guard, and I would like to have him nearby in case anything goes wrong."
"Why would anything go wrong when I'm here?"
You are everything wrong with my existence right now. After what I did today, I don't feel safe when I'm alone with you .
Jungkook bit his tongue from spitting that out, but Taehyung kept looking at him with a mixture of challenge and curiosity.
"Where is Lord Jimin?" he asked instead, trying to avoid answering the question with something he would regret later.
"What do you want from Jimin?" There it was. The accusatory tone that Jungkook was dreading. Of course, Taehyung was here to protect his lover from Jungkook.
"I merely want to be trained in combat, as mentioned earlier." He smiled nervously, hoping that he seemed unaware of his husband's relationship with his general.
"You don't need him for that. I'll teach you." Jungkook's heart skipped a beat, and he did not know whether it was out of fear or his weak heart fluttering its wings by the possessive edge in his tone. His husband was most likely saying it to distance him from his lover, and that brought back the sour expression.
"I thought you'd be too busy for that, considering the only time I see you is when you are in our marital room to collect your night clothes and leave." He could not help the slight hiss from escaping his mouth.
Taehyung seemed unfazed by his passive-aggressive comment but stepped closer to Jungkook. "Do you still insist on having the guard hear about our marital circumstances?" His eyes flickered to Namjoon, who stood awkwardly and wished he could be anywhere but near the couple.
"I'd rather not have this conversation at all." He did not falter no matter how hard his heart was beating, and his hands were shaking due to the nerves. Taehyung had enough time to talk to him yesterday when all Jungkook wanted him to do was say something.
"Very well. Let's commence our practice session then." He moved back to put more distance between them, and Jungkook felt like he could finally breathe. It was short-lived because the next minute, he found himself choking at the sight of the King, his husband, stripping in front of him.
"Your Highness—" he cut himself off when the last piece of clothing fell to the ground. His tanned, broad back with rippling muscles stared back at him. It was decorated by scars from the battles he had fought in, but Jungkook found even those imperfections flawless. When Taehyung turned to face him, Jungkook blushed bright red and gulped down the excessive saliva under his tongue. God took their time to craft Taehyung because everything about him rivalled the most intricate piece of art. The well-defined muscles built from years of training made Jungkook want to run his hands over them. The skin was kissed by countless knives that he wanted to know all the stories of. Fate was cruel for giving him someone desirable, close, and non-achievable.
A ghost of a smile appeared on Taehyung's lips when his eyes found Jungkook's heated ones, causing the younger man to blush harder and divert his eyes. "How much do you know about fighting?" He asked.
"I'm afraid I have a limited idea." He said honestly.
"Why did you suddenly want to learn how to fight?"
I want you to accept me as a Dirikyan and not treat me like an alien.
But he replied, "I felt inspired by the soldiers here."
"Combative skills are not easy to acquire, and most soldiers here have been training since they were fifteen. Are you sure you'll be okay?"
"I'm more than capable of handling myself." His words were sassier than he had planned, but the King did not notice. At least, that is what he thought.
"Let's start with hand combat to test your skills." Jungkook unconsciously clenched his fists, but his mind was filled with apprehension and anticipation. "I need you to clench your fist and hit me as hard as you can."
Jungkook's eyes went wide at the command. He had never once hit anyone other than flies and mosquitoes, and the King of Dirikya, his husband, wanted him to hit him? "Your Highness, you're the King. I can't do something like this blasphemy."
"Don't think of me as your King or your husband when we are training. I'm just a soldier on this ground." He said while bearing his torso to Jungkook.
It was easier said than done because the Prince was not even out of the haze of lustful clouds thundering at his brain when the object of his desire stood before him. It did not matter if Taehyung was a King, husband, or soldier; Jungkook wanted him.
"Are you going to keep impolitely staring throughout the entire training?" His husband's smug tone made him snap out of the haze, and a frown took over.
"I was not impolitely staring." Unintentionally, his lips puckered in a pout, and he did not know how that tiny action had caused the warmth of endearment across Taehyung's chest. "I just don't want to hurt anyone."
"Then you should not be training for combat." Taehyung's face darkened when he said and made a move to turn around.
"Fine! I'll do it!" Jungkook exclaimed as he balled up his fist. "Tell me where to hit," he asked, focusing on Taehyung's still figure.
"Below the chest, right below the bone, there is an area we call the centre of our soul. You will disarm the enemy if you can hit it hard enough." Taehyung said, pointing at his own chest.
(an// The area Taehyung is referring to is called the solar plexus)
"You want me to... hit you there?" Jungkook never found it easy to understand his husband. Even with the limited time he had interacted with him. Still, this instance, in particular, added a new layer to his existence's unpredictability.
"Yes. I need to know your strength." He replied that getting hit in that area that can knock a grown man down is nothing unusual.
Jungkook took a big gulp of air to settle down the adrenaline rushing through him and set his eyes on the area. He tried to ignore those delicious-looking pectoral muscles and the abs below, but it was hard not to. He felt like a pervert. "What if you pass out?" He asked.
"I doubt that." Taehyung teased the Prince, intending it to be a light-hearted joke. However, Jungkook thought the King was mocking him because he viewed him as weak.
The bubbling feeling of anger and the adrenalin boiled into liquid rage flowing through his bloodline. The Jeons had the blood of the dragons, after all. He clenched his hand before pulling it back and slamming his fist on Taehyung's chest.
He watched in satisfaction as the older man stumbled back from the impact. He stared at Jungkook with an apparent shock on his face, shocked by the unexpectedly harsh hit from someone so inexperienced. But Jungkook's pride was quickly overtaken by panic when Taehyung started coughing and wheezing while holding the area he attacked.
"Are you alright?" He felt so horrible about striking his husband that he did not even register the stinging pain around his knuckles.
However, Kim Taehyung attacked him with another unpredictable layer. The King looked at him, and for the first time, he smiled without restraints. "You were perfect," he said, grinning.
All words and thoughts inside Jungkook's brain jumbled like pieces of puzzles as he gawked at his husband, who unabashedly called him perfect after getting punched. And praise the Lord above for giving him the most breathtaking smile that puffed up his cheeks. The Prince suspected that the older had hit his head against something before coming here or was delirious due to his hit. Or maybe Taehyung was someone who was drawn to the notion of violence.
Taehyung noticed the conflict in Jungkook's facial expressions and returned to his old demeanour. "I meant your hit was perfect. You have good aim when using your hands and sufficient strength behind your hits. The only issue is the way you punch will cause your hand to be in extreme pain." The younger's wrist and fingers felt sore at the mention of pain.
While he inspected the bruises on top of his knuckles, Taehyung moved closer to the younger. When he reached out to take his hand between his, Jungkook gasped unintentionally. His big doe eyes grew wider when he looked at his husband staring down at his hand.
"You must keep the thumb outside your four fingers and let it sit at your first knuckles." Taehyung demonstrated the instructions he spoke. "The second knuckles of your first two fingers after the thumb should protrude. These are the knuckles you hit with to make the greatest impact, not the third ones or your ring and small finger. Hitting with the third layer of knuckles may render your finger immobile and cause your wrist to bend the wrong way. You also do not want to hit with the flat part of your fist because that will not cause much damage to your opponent." Jungkook tried to focus on what Taehyung was saying rather than the feeling of the rough hand over his own. He truthfully did.
However, he was a weak man relishing the proximity between him and Taehyung, the soft voice of the older man whom he had not heard for so long. He did not know if he would have Taehyung be this talkative with him again. Lastly, the electric touch of his hand on his skin.
"Do you understand?" Jungkook snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Taehyung's beautiful face.
"Yeah… I do." He replied.
Taehyung let go of his hand, and Jungkook immediately felt the coldness from the absence of his warm touch. "We'll resume our practice tomorrow then." The King said with a courteous bow.
Jungkook bowed back, "Thank you for your help." There was something else he wanted to say. Something he wanted to ask. Are you going to sleep in your room now? Am I worth your time as your husband, or do you strictly want to be with me while you train me to be a soldier? Jungkook bit his tongue from wording those inquiries and pushed down the dangerous hope he refused to build. He had to get over Taehyung and not fall for this trap again.
As the Prince was leaving, he heard Taehyung address Namjoon again: "Soldier, would you mind telling Kira to meet me in this garden after my husband is safely in his quarters?" He looked back at his husband over his shoulders and saw him get dressed. Taehyung was not facing them, so he could not understand the intention behind wanting to meet Kira, but he did not ask.
.
.
.
Taehyung stared at the painting under the tree, which he had initially missed due to the darkness. His heart thundered rapidly inside his chest at the sight of himself amongst a bed of paints. Artistic creations were uncommon in Dirikya; hence, unlike many other Kings, Taehyung never had a portrait or statue of himself. However, the painting before him was the second most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Not because he was narcissistic but because Jungkook drew it. His husband—the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
The thought of the beautiful golden Prince was interrupted by the timid footsteps getting closer to where he stood. "You asked for me, you Highness?" Kira spoke from behind him.
"Hello, Kira." He turned around to face the curly-haired girl he had given the responsibility of taking care of his husband. "Can you tell me the real reason why my husband wants to learn how to fight?"
.
.
.
Jungkook woke up later than usual since yesterday had tired him out. He could not even stay awake to witness if Taehyung came to their quarter. Maybe that was a blessing in disguise because he did not know how he would have felt watching his husband leave him again.
He got out of bed to shower, but something caught his eye on top of the bed. Instead of the Dirikyan suit, he found one of his gowns for him to wear. Kira might've thought he was wearing the suits for only a day.
"Kira!" he called out for his maid, and the young woman arrived quickly to aid the Prince.
"Yes, my Lord?"
"I wish to wear the Dirikyan suit again, which shall be my outfit from now on." Jungkook expected Kira to get him what he asked for, but the maid remained frozen in her spot, hesitating to speak.
"My Lord, the King asked me to prepare you a gown." This was the last thing he expected out of everything, especially with the time he spent with Taehyung yesterday. While in bed, he assumed that Taehyung’s sudden interest in him stemmed from his choice to assimilate into the Dirikyan culture.
Not a day passed without Kim Taehyung confusing him. "But why? I thought he did not like me because of my gowns."
"I believe there have been some misunderstandings," she said guiltily. "The King has also requested your presence at the dining hall for breakfast."
Jungkook's eyebrows furrowed.
.
.
.
" Give him a gown to wear for tomorrow."
"My Lord thought you would appreciate him more for wearing the Dirikyan uniform."
"I'll always appreciate him. But he looks the prettiest when he wears those gowns."
Oh, how Kira wished the King and her Lord could hear their yearning thoughts of each other.
"Pardon me if I overstep my boundaries, but you should tell him that. Lord Jungkook would love to know that you feel that way."
The ruthless Lord of Death hesitated. "I'll see. Bring him to the dining hall tomorrow for breakfast."