Chapter Text
🌹🌙✨🍂🫧 ⋆｡: A royal’s rite :｡⋆ 🌹🌙✨🍂🫧
The morning drapes itself in gold over Crestwood, light spilling through the crooked slats of the horse barn. Jungkook works with sleeves rolled up, his hands buried in hay and dust. The scent of earth and leather clings to him as he scrubs the troughs clean, shoulders moving in steady rhythm. His dark curls fall loose against his neck, damp with sweat, yet his movements are quiet, almost reverent, as though the barn itself is a chapel.
He pauses sometimes, leaning on the rake, listening. Through the gaps in the wood, steel clashes faintly, voices calling orders. The soldiers of Highcastle train in the yard beyond. Jungkook tilts his head, catching fleeting glimpses of their spears raised, their boots thundering. A boyhood ache stirs. Once, he dreamed of standing among them, the red crest on his chest, his blade flashing. Before the war. Before his family lost everything.
His parents’ voices still echo in him, merchants laughing over coin and trade routes, warm hands guiding him by the wrist. He had been their heir to something—something more than barns and muck. But now he only watches through cracks, wishing his name carried enough weight to earn him a place among the guards.
“Morning, Jungkook!”
The sound startles him. Ontario slips inside the barn, grinning as he claps his shoulder.
Jungkook musters a small smile. “Morning. You’re early.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” Ontario leans against the railing, watching him work. “Looks like you’ve been at it awhile.”
“Long enough,” Jungkook says, lifting another forkful of hay, though his gaze drifts once more to the training yard.
Ontario follows his eyes, expression softening. “Still dreaming?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer, not at first. He lets the silence sit like dust between them. Then, quietly: “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Before Ontario can reply, shouting rises outside. The two of them step out into the glare of the sun. Alphas clash in the yard, two soldiers tearing into each other with snarls. Their commander barks orders, trying to separate them.
Jungkook watches, jaw tight. “Undisciplined fools. If they can’t control themselves, how can they guard anyone?”
Ontario glances at him sideways, a ghost of a smile. “You’d do better, wouldn’t you?”
Jungkook says nothing. But his silence carries the weight of the truth.
The commander’s voice cuts across the yard. “Jeon!”
Heads turn. Soldiers snicker, their laughter low and sharp.
“Prepare to move out by noon,” the commander orders. “Boars spotted near the ridge. You’ll bring back fresh meat.”
More chuckles ripple through the ranks—mockery cloaked as humor. A peasant sent to do a hunter’s work. Jungkook feels the sting of it, but he only nods, fists clenching at his sides.
Ontario mutters under his breath, “They don’t see you, Kook. Not really.”
But Jungkook straightens his shoulders, forcing the smirk that has always been his shield. “It’s fine. Boars are nothing I can’t handle.”
When the commander dismisses him, Jungkook leaves the training yard, dust rising with each step of his boots. The path bends past the edge of the village, where stone houses cluster together, sturdy and neat, banners fluttering in the wind. The smell of bread drifts from open windows, laughter spilling out with it. Jungkook lowers his eyes, unwilling to linger.
Beyond the houses, the land softens into wildflower fields. Petals shiver in the breeze, pale blue and violet, a scattering of color against the green. The air grows sweeter here, touched with clover. Jungkook slows, letting the stillness wash over him. The flowers remind him of his mother—how she used to braid wild stems into his hair when he was small. For a moment, he imagines her beside him again, humming, her hand warm at the back of his neck.
Then the memory fades, leaving only the whisper of the grass.
At the far edge of the field waits his cabin, tucked neatly against the trees. Its walls are timbered, sturdy though weathered by years of rain and sun. The roof is thatched with straw and moss, giving it a soft, earthen look, as though it belongs to the land more than it rises from it. A single window catches the light, simple shutters swung open. It is not poor, nor rich—just lived in, carrying his quiet care.
Jungkook steps inside and moves straight to the table. The cowry necklace lies waiting, pale against the dark wood. He runs his thumb over its curve, grounding himself in the memory it holds. Then he slings a sack across his shoulder, the leather strap worn smooth from use, and gathers his hunting tools—bow, knife, coils of rope.
The hunt waits. He exhales once, steady, and pushes the door closed behind him.
🌹🌙✨🍂🫧
As the sun dips low on the horizon, painting the forest in hues of molten orange and gold, Jungkook strides through the winding paths with unwavering purpose. His boots crunch rhythmically over fallen leaves, while his pants whisper against the swaying tall grasses. The crisp evening air wraps around him like a lover’s embrace, thick with the earthy perfume of pine and damp soil, soothing his rugged soul.
Clad in sturdy boots and faded leather pants that hug his powerful thighs, Jungkook’s furry brown coat clings to his broad frame, highlighting the intricate tattoos snaking across his hands and the bulging veins along his arms. His muscles ripple beneath the fabric, forged from endless days of survival in this wild expanse—each sinew a story of strength and solitude.
He pauses by the tranquil stream to set his traps and sharpen his tools, his senses sharpening like the blade in his grip. A rustle in the bushes snaps his focus; with predatory grace, he melts into the shadows, nocking an arrow to his bow, ready to claim whatever prey dares intrude.
But the hunt dissolves into oblivion as an ethereal vision steps from the foliage.
“ It’s the prince… it can’t be “
Jungkook watches with bated breath as the prince, crowned with a delicate mini gold tiara nestled in his shimmering silver hair, drops a tied bag to the ground. He approaches the stream’s edge, his sapphire eyes sparkling like hidden gems under the fading light. The prince’s white dress flows around him like liquid midnight, sensual and teasing—backless to reveal the elegant curve of his spine, a deep V-neck plunging daringly to expose the soft swell of his chest, tied at the neck with a silken rope that begs to be unraveled.
The long fabric cascades to his ankles, whispering against his skin, adorned with shimmering gold jewelry that drapes his arms like vines of sunlight and coils around his legs in intricate patterns, catching the twilight in a dance of fire.
Before stepping into the water, the prince pauses, his expression shifting from eager anticipation to a quiet storm of reminiscence. His sapphire eyes cloud with unspoken fears—he’s terrified, truly, his heart pounding beneath that flawless facade. Yet he must perform this sacred ritual, offering his gift to the lands as tradition demands, his voice and essence a balm for the earth’s hidden wounds.
Guilt gnaws at him like thorns; he’s fled the castle’s gilded cage, where his father’s controlling grip has boxed him in tighter than any prison bars, suffocating his spirit with endless decrees and unyielding expectations. Even the sacred pond within the palace walls, his usual sanctuary for these rites, now bristles with heavy guards, their presence a mystery shrouded in silence—no answers given, no mercy shown.
So here he stands, discreet and defiant in this forbidden wilderness, unaware of the hungry eyes devouring him from the shadows.
With a slow, deliberate grace that borders on ritual itself, the prince unties the rope at his neck, letting the fabric sigh open like a secret revealed. He slips one shoulder free, then the other, the dress pooling sensually down his lithe body—gliding over the gentle rise of his chest, the narrow taper of his waist, the plush curve of his hips—until it cascades to the ground in a navy whisper, leaving him utterly naked, his skin glowing like polished marble under the sunset’s caress.
Jungkook’s gaze locks on, lust igniting like wildfire in his veins. He drinks in the prince’s bare form—the flawless expanse of golden skin, the pert fluff of his tits perched invitingly on his chest, the inviting swell of his thighs that promise softness and sin. The omega’s body is a masterpiece of divine temptation, every inch captivating, from the shimmering jewelry that now adorns his nude elegance like forbidden treasures, to the way his silver hair catches the light, framing those piercing sapphire eyes. Time stretches, lingers in this charged silence, as Jungkook’s desire coils tighter, his breath ragged, his body aching with the raw need to claim what fate has unveiled.
Taehyung glides into the stream, the water parting around him like a lover’s caress, cool and silken against his bare skin. Each step sends ripples dancing outward, catching the dying sunlight in a mosaic of shimmering gold and amber. His silver hair, damp and clinging to his neck, gleams like moonlight, framing the sapphire glow of his eyes as they reflect the water’s surface.
His movements are deliberate yet effortless, a sensual ballet of limbs slicing through the current—his arms arch gracefully, fingers trailing delicate patterns in the stream, while his thighs flex with quiet power, propelling him deeper. The gold jewelry on his arms and legs sparkles with every motion, tiny constellations winking against his golden skin, as if the heavens themselves have adorned him for this sacred rite.
As he submerges himself fully, the water embraces every curve of his lithe form, molding to the soft swell of his chest, the dip of his waist, and the plush curve of his hips. He tilts his head back, letting the stream cascade over his face, droplets tracing the sharp line of his jaw and the delicate column of his throat.
His lips part in a quiet sigh, the sound swallowed by the gentle rush of the current, and for a moment, he is no longer a runaway prince but a creature of the wild—untamed, divine, and utterly free. His sapphire eyes flutter shut, lashes dark and glistening, as he surrenders to the rhythm of the water, his body swaying in sync with the stream’s pulse. Each stroke is a prayer, each ripple a vow, his presence a living offering to the land he seeks to bless with his ritual.
Emerging briefly, Taehyung pauses, water streaming down his body in rivulets that catch the twilight’s glow, painting him in liquid fire. His skin shimmers, flawless and luminescent, as he runs his fingers through his silver hair, pushing it back to reveal the sharp beauty of his features—cheekbones high and sculpted, lips full and parted as he hums a soft, otherworldly melody.
The stream clings to him like a second skin, accentuating the fluffed curves of his chest and the inviting softness of his thighs, every inch of him a vision of ethereal temptation. He spins slowly, the water swirling around him in a gentle vortex, his voice rising into a heavenly song that weaves through the trees, pure and haunting, as if calling to the spirits of the forest to witness his sacred act. Unaware of the eyes devouring him from the shadows, Taehyung is lost in his element, a radiant omega prince bathing in both water and starlight, his beauty a spell that binds the very air around him.
Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat as he beholds the prince’s flawless skin, the soft curves of his body illuminated by the fading sunlight. A pang of guilt washes over him, as if he’s committing a sin by gazing upon the omega prince in his vulnerable state, yet his eyes refuse to look away, ensnared by the vision before him.
His astonishment deepend when the prince plunged into the water with carefree abandon, his giggles ringing out like a symphony through the forest. Jungkook watches in awe as the omega prince swims, his movements fluid and graceful, like a creature of myth come to life, each stroke a testament to his ethereal elegance.
And then, to Jungkook’s utter amazement, the prince begins to sing. His voice, pure and melodious, echoes through the trees, weaving a spellbinding melody that stirs Jungkook’s soul. He finds himself drawn to the prince’s enchanting presence, unable to tear his gaze away, his heart thumping with a primal rhythm.
As Jungkook watches the prince with an intensity that borders on reverence, his heart races with a heady mix of awe and desire. The prince’s beauty is nothing short of breathtaking—from his angelic voice that reverberates through the forest, to the graceful curves of his body as he moves through the water with effortless grace, a living embodiment of divine temptation.
Every detail of the prince’s appearance captivates Jungkook’s senses—his smooth, golden skin, the captivating hue of his sapphire blue eyes, and the way his fingers delicately caress his silver hair as droplets of water cascade down his form. Jungkook is entranced by the prince’s radiant smile, a joyful expression that blooms as he immerses himself in the serenity of nature, oblivious to the hungry eyes devouring him.
Lost in the moment, Jungkook can’t tear his eyes away, unaware of time slipping through his fingers as he drinks in the sight before him. He watches in awe as the omega prince emerges from the water, stepping onto the soft grass, his body glistening in the soft glow of twilight, each droplet clinging to his skin like a lover reluctant to let go.
The prince’s figure is a masterpiece of divine craftsmanship—his fluffed tits resting perfectly on his chest, the gentle curve of his hips, and the plumpness of his skin all combining to create a vision of ethereal beauty. Jungkook can’t help but feel a surge of lust stir within him, his gaze lingering hungrily on the prince’s form, his breath hitching at the sight of such unguarded perfection.
But just as Jungkook’s desires threaten to consume him, a sudden jolt of realization snaps him back to reality. With instincts honed by years of survival in the wilderness, he acts on impulse as the prince stands vulnerable on the grass, pulling back his bow and releasing the arrow with deadly precision.
The sharp twang of the bowstring slices through the air, drowned out by a scream of fear from the prince, followed by the heavy thud of the fallen target—Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest as he wrestles with the conflicting emotions coursing through him—desire mingled with guilt, awe tempered by the harsh reality of his actions.
In that fleeting moment, as the prince’s song fades into a shocked gasp and the forest falls silent, Jungkook grapples with the knowledge that he has trespassed upon something sacred, his arrow a stark reminder of the line he’s crossed in this forbidden reverie.
🌹🌙✨🍂🫧 ⋆｡: ｡⋆ 🌹🌙✨🍂🫧
The gorgeous ritual by the stream✨ I had hoped to capture Taehyung’s essence as a royal true blood accurately and I hope I did 🩷.