A/N: there is some gore, so if you get queasy beware..
*slithers out of the seven rings of hell*
*Throws this chapter out and slithers back inside*
Chapter Seven: I'm afraid if I won't see you after this night.
They weren't moving.
Why weren't they moving? He thinks, brows furrowed as he debates stepping out and speaking to someone.
The forest was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The horses were antsy, huffing and scuffing their hoofs impatiently.
He could hear his men, their heavy metal armor clanking quietly, their thick, clunky boots moving with surprising lightness. With a swallow, Jungkook turns to the opposite window, peeking out and meeting the sight of his guards all looking at- something. What, he doesn't know.
Without really thinking, he opens the door to his carriage a crack, the sound of it's weathered hinges startling some of the soldiers. "What's going on?" He whispers almost comically loud.
"Well… Sir, there appears to be a," One man begins, voice hesitant "A, well- I don't- I don't really know?"
"Is that a question?" He asks, a bit irritated and cranky from being cooped up in the small compartment for so many hours, only to be awoken to a stopped carriage. "You either don't know, or you do. Which is it, soldier?"
"I-I don't know, Sir! It's, I mean I know some of it, but-"
"Ugh, clearly you do not know, or we wouldn't be here. Step aside, I'm going to have a look, myself." Jungkook opens the carriage door more, ignoring the squawks of his men, and practically shoves aside the shell-shocked soldiers.
What he finds when he reaches the front, is definitely not what he expected. A fallen tree? Maybe. A dead cow? Sure, but- but not… That.
In the middle of the road sat what looked like a monster.
With a head of a buck, it's eyes gouged out and it's mouth open and stuffed with the innards of something (he chooses not to imagine them as human). The head was clearly severed off the original host, as it now crudely sat on top of the body of a brown bear.
It had been sewn together with what looked like barbed wire, the bear's paws cut off and replaced with hooves. It lay in a puddle of blood and there were already maggots wiggling around in it. Dead rabbits with their stomachs open, intestines strewn about as they hung from the antlers.
Jungkook had to look away, forcing down the bile that had risen in his horror. The stench was horrid, unlike anything he'd ever smelt before.
"What do you think it is, Sir?" One man, slightly younger than Jungkook, asked in a small voice. He looked pale and was nervously sweating. Jungkook empathised with him.
"A scare tactic. We're getting closer to the rebel towns, are we not? The enemy planted this, somehow knowing I would be here today, in hopes of scaring us off." He says simply, turning around and deftly avoiding the pooling blood.
It had rained earlier so the water had mixed with the blood, making it stream down the cobblestone roads and pool.
"And, clearly, it didn't work." Jungkook said sternly, looking pointedly at shaking boy. How he ended up with the most inexperienced and young soldiers as escorts, he doesn't know.
There were two soldiers in the trees a bit away, one violently purging in some bushes, his fellow soldier patting his back sympathetically, looking just as green.
No one argued, but no one agreed with him, either. He took it as a win.
"Alright, pull yourselves together, men. The road is too narrow for the horses to pull the carriage around it, so we need to manually move it. If we're out here too long, we're at risk of being exposed to enemy fire." He explained, looking down at his clothes and mentally cursing. He rolls up the sleeves of his expensive shirt, his suit jacket discarded on a saddle behind him.
His men all hesitantly made their way over to the monstrous thing, shuffling their feet and fiddling with their hands.
Jungkook almost wants to roll his eyes, they were acting like little boys, but he, too, was disturbed and understood their hesitance. It's not like he wants to do this, but they have to.
"Chang, Park, Kim, you three go over to the other side. Other kim, Byun, Jung. You three on this side." The soldiers all shuffled to their places with grimaces. One man visibly shuddered at the stench and sight. "On the count of three, we lift and move it as far as possible. Once it's close enough, we should be able to just let it topple over sideways and ride one through."
Jungkook double checks his sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, and firmly plants his feet in the ground. He nods to the soldiers on his side, reaching his hands down and placing them mere breaths away from the brown bear's fur.
"One, two, three! Lift!" On the mark, all the men lowered and with varying grunts of disgust or discomfort, they hoisted the beast up. Blood trickled and dripped off it, staining Jungkook's pants and shoes. He heard one man whimper, (whimper!), as maggots fell down his arms and onto his legs.
"Okay, this should be enough. Lower it slowly, don't put your back out or strain yourself." He advises, hissing through his teeth as they all lower the body down slowly, carefully. It hits the earth with a thunk, some blood and dirt spattering up onto them. They groan, Jungkook included.
They all stand there for a moment, not speaking, not moving.
Jungkook stares at the morbid corpse(s) and, for not the first time, wonders just what he's gotten himself into. Not that he chose to be a prince (scratch that), King, with princely (ugh, also scratch that),kingly duties such as wars.
The silence is broken by the soldier from earlier retching rather loudly.
This is an amazing night, so far. Top ten in Jungkook's opinion. Dead, morbidly crafted creatures? An amazing omen to start off his time away from home.
"Now, let's saddle up again. The sun is setting even more, it'll be dark soon. We don't want to get caught here in enemy territory in the dark." Jungkook claps his hands loudly, signalling their 'break' is over.
Before settling back inside the carriage, however, Jungkook pulls out a water pouch and pours it over his hands, the water turning pink as it washes away the blood.
He jumps at the loud scream beside him, quickly whipping his neck to the side to see one soldier is standing there with an arrow sticking out of his stomach.
He'd lifted his armor off to rinse it. He'd assumed they were safe. He was an idiot.
Jungkook's eyes widen and he yells out a "take cover!" before all but throwing himself behind the carriage.
All hell breaks loose.
His men all let out startled yells, reaching for their swords as their assaliants charge forth from the shadows. Bows and arrows, swords and the like.
It all happened in a flash, an instant. There was the sounds of metal against metal, the whistle of arrows in the air (some Jungkook just barely manged to dodge) and grunts of pain.
Jungkook scrambled around on the ground for some moments, trying to find something to defend himself with when he felt the cold press of a blade on his nape.
Body stilling, the royal turns his head slowly to peer over his shoulder. A greasy looking man smiles down at him, clearly proud of himself. "What 'ill my king say when I tell 'im I'm the one who killed the young king?" He boasts, accent as thick as the dirt on his face and clothes.
He looked homeless, not at all like a soldier, and his eyes gleamed dark and beady. Jungkook let out a snort, then a full blown laugh at the shocked expression the man wore.
"You? Kill me? Please, could you think any higher of yourself? I suppose it is good to be ambitious, though…" Jungkook drawls, carefully posiotioning his body without arousing suspicion from his captor.
The man has turned several shades of red by now, clearly offended once his brain caught up with what Jungkook said.
"'Ey!" He yells just as Jungkook quickly reraches up behind himself, grabbing his arm holding the sword and twisting it hard.
The man yells in pain but Jungkook doesn't let up, he swiftly twirls around and grabs the sword out of his hand, twisting his arm all the way back until it pops with a sickening sound. The man falls to the ground with a cry, left hand reaching up to cradle his now broken arm.
Jungkook purses his eyes, looking away as he pushes the sword down into his chest, meeting resistance than he'd expected.
During training all he'd stabbed were bags of rice and already dead cows and pigs.
He uses his legs to add more weight to it, and soon enough it sinks down past the ribcage and lodges itself inside. The man stills, blood spilling out past his lips as he dies.
Jungkook has to use just as much effort to pull the weapon out as he did putting it there in the first place.
He sets an appreciative eye on the sword. Originally he'd expected it to break the second he'd stabbed the man, but for as flimsy as it is, it's holding up pretty well.
Crouching down behind a carriage wheel, he peers through the wood at the fight before him. His men are losing, but they have taken down quite a few men as well, Jungkook notes.
Deciding that hiding, something he very much wishes to do as of now, is not acceptable, Jungkook hops up and throws himself into the fight alongside his dwindling men.
Slash, slash, cut, stab, dodge, it's all muscle memory for the royal as his mind shuts down. Every kill he makes, his mind blankens even more. He's not in his body. It's all muscle memory. He's not really there.
The ambush only consisted of around thirty men, not that bad, and with the help of his men he manages to wipe them out.
With one last push down, Jungkook pulls his sword out of the chest it's lodged it, foot coming up to rest on the body and use as leverage as it gets stuck.
It slides out with a sickening squelsh, and as Jungkook slowly comes back to himself he feels disgusting. He just killed well over twenty men like it was nothing.
Pushing his thoughts aside, he wipes the blood off the flimsy steel sword with an enemy's shirt and looks around himself. All that's left of his group is two soldiers and himself. He notes with some disdain that one is the puking boy from earlier.
"Well." He starts, not too sure what you're supposed to say after an ambush resulting in losing all but one of your comrades and your king dying. "Good work, gentlemen?"
He's greeted with silence. Yeah, he doesn't blame them.
Jungkook heads to his broken-down carriage, now littered with arrows and slash marks, opens the door (which was useless, really, the thing was barely hanging on its hinges) and grabs the necessities. The documents and important scrolls, his satchel to carry them in, and the note from Taehyung.
Taking a second to breathe, he closes his eyes and clutches the satchel to his chest. If he concentrates, he can kind of smell the salty ocean clinging to the leather.
"We need to get going. Check if your horse is wounded, if it is, just take someone's, or ride with each other." Jungkook continues at the sound of his men shuffling in the bloodied cobblestone. "Pick up a torch, too. It's already very dark out."
His two men look paler than snow as they stare down at bodies. Jungkook glances down as well and sees how one man has an arrow in his eye, another's body twisted unnaturally.
He has to look away before the guilt swallows him whole. "Chop chop, men! There is no time to waste! These brave soldiers laid their lives down so we could live! So we could continue on and win this war, to protect our friends and families back at home. Do not let their sacrifices go to waste by standing there and waiting for another ambush!" He snaps, and the two men jump into action at the tone of voice. They wander around, looking at the horses tied to trees and making sure they aren't wounded.
Jungkook chose one of the horses that had pulled his carriage. The right horse had been shot in the head with an arrow, but his companion looked mostly unscathed. A few minor cuts and scrapes, but nothing too major nor fatal.
He untied it from the carriage and stroked it's nose softy, cooing to calm it down.
"That's Chestnut, Byun's horse. She's real loyal. Fast, too." Explained one soldier as they had glanced over at Jungkook in passing.
"Chestnut, huh? You're a brave girl, Chestnut. I hope you'll like me, because I already like you." Jungkook whispered, stroking her soft nose once more before pulling away.
Jungkook had planned to leave right then, but his guilt had risen to scary levels and he practically drowned it in. He can hear his mother laughing at him all the way from here, "it is best to think of your soldiers as cheap and disposable. Get attached, and you'll never survive." she had warned him, and despite how awful it sounded, it was actually good advice.
Despite it all, he still felt responsible for their downfall tonight. So, with a heavy sigh, he ordered his two remaining men to help him stack the bodies of their fallen comrades onto any spare, healthy horses.
They tied them up quickly, making sure they wouldn't all off the horse's backs. Then they tied the horses to their own, making sure they would follow close behind.
Finally, with a torch in hand, Jungkook left the carriage with his things, along with a pool of blood, behind. His men followed closely behind, holding torches of their own, swords clutched close to their bodies.
It was a little before dawn by the time Jungkook arrived at the designated camp, limbs tired and eyes drooping. His men were no better off, though they seemed more alert than he at the moment. Probably still running off adrenaline and fear, he thinks as they turn off the road towards the rather open field.
The ride here was unnerving, to say the least;
The village around them had been abandoned, the people who once inhabited it all evacuated at the first signs of a war. After all, what sane person would stay put when there is a war going on quite literally in their backyard?
Base camp brought life to the dark-blue sky, torches and fire pits casting a warm, orange glow about. Men sat beside the flames and chatted, others stood and kept watch, giving in tentatively to the conversation. Most were asleep, it was an ungodly hour.
Horses tied to posts drank from the troughs or snoozed lightly, tails flicking at the pesky fireflies that danced about.
At the sound of hoofs, a couple men standing watch looked over, a single soldier even coming to investigate. "Who goes there?" he calls as he wanders over, hand on sword, ready to unsheathe at a moment's notice. "I said, halt! Who goes there?!" He reiterates when Jungkook, nor his two men, answered quick enough.
"Watch your tongue, that is the crown prince you're speaking to!" One of his remaining soldiers hissed out, tired and worn from the day's incidents.
The soldier gasps audibly, dropping to his knees in a full bow. "I am very sorry, your highness! I did not wish to offend, I was only asking in case you were an enemy spy!" He rushes out, voice an octave higher than before.
"Stand up, please. At ease, soldier. It is quite alright, I'm not upset. You were just doing your job." he reassures, wanting to get on with all the greetings so he could maybe fall into a bed and catch a few hours sleep before he had to meet up with general Min.
The soldier stood up, armor clanking and his helmet nearly fell off in his eagerness.
"It is an honor to fight alongside your side, my prince!" He practically screeches, Jungkook wincing. He could already feel a massive headache forming. "I eagerly look forward to work with you!"
"Yes, as am I. Now, if you'll please let us pass, our horses haven't rested in well over fifteen hours. They are tired and thirsty, as are we."
"Oh, y-yes, my apologies, your highness!" He was so eager to please, it was almost painful. Jungkook gave him a wavering smile and nod, pulling the reins to lead chestnut towards the typing post.
His men followed, dismounting and tying their companions, as well. Just as he finished the knot, a hand claps him on the back. Jungkook nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around to meet a familiar roguish face.
"Jungkook! You made it in one piece, I see." Jackson teased warmly. Jungkook instantly relaxed and pulled his instructor in for a (much needed) hug. "Barely, though. You look dead on your feet, man."
Jackson, the only person besides Namjoon and Tae to speak so casually to him. "That was an ill-timed joke, Jackson." Jungkook deadpanned and pointed behind him at the dead bodies.
Jackson leaned to peer over his shoulder and gasped softly, then visibly cringed. "Shit. Yeah, my bad. What happened?"
"Ambushed. They planted this huge, monstrous creature in the road. It was a combination of bear, buck and bunny. I'll never un-see what I saw back there. It blocked us from moving forward, so we had to transport it ourselves, and once we did these men showed up out of nowhere." Jungkook explained, petting Chestnut as she drank.
Poor girl, she hadn't drank anything since they'd left yesterday.
"It was the most peculiar thing, Jackson. They didn't look like soldiers. They didn't have on armor, and their swords, while sturdy enough, were crudely made and flimsy. Look," He pulled the sword out and handed it to the elder who inspected with a keen eye.
"You're right. This sword, while it would last in a couple brawls, would be shit in the battlefield. It's steel, and flimsy steel. Cheap. Disposable." He hummed, turning the blade over in his hands and running a thumb along the edge to feel how sharp it was. "Not very sharp, either. I'd imagine it'd be pretty hard to stab through armor and bones. You'd need a lot of power and prayer that it wouldn't break from the force."
"I know, I had an awful time cutting through his ribcage. Which, I know is already hard, but I really had to exert myself to even get it in, much less out." Jungkook commented, thinking back to the fight.
Jackson nodded. "Well, good news is we've got better swords here. You won't need prayers for them, just willpower and strength. Now, surviving? That, you need a hellofa lot of prayers for."
Jungkook hummed and turned to some soldiers loitering about. He waved them over, asked them to get the bodies down and transport them to where dead bodies go. They'll hopefully get buried somewhere, or brought home to be buried there.
That is if the war is over soon enough for them to go home. They'll begin to decay, and the stench alone will be so bad they'll want to bury them here. Or, burn them.
And clearing his thoughts of dead bodies and burning flesh, he quietly announced he'd be moving into his designated tent to sleep for a bit.
He pointedly ignored the other men around him, not in the mood to talk or be gawked at, and only asked Jackson to point him in the right direction.
His tent was rather big, a good-sized bed cot with lumpy pillows and scratchy blankets called his name upon entrance. A chest meant for his possessions (the ones he left behind) sat at the foot of the bed, another meant for his clothes on the opposite side. The only clothes he had were the ones on his back, he realized.
He'd need to borrow some from someone.
A desk and chair next to the tent entrance is where he threw his satchel. A single rug had been laid out atop the grassy floor. He thought the rug excessive, but perhaps they thought he'd be homesick and the soft wolf pelt would remind him of home.
A wash basin in another corner.
With a grunt, Jungkook shucks off his shirt and pants, unties his shoes and tosses them without a care as to where they'll land. Once he's left to just his undershirt and pants, he promptly falls face first into the bed and worms his way under the covers.
Sleep takes him the second he's settled.
8-8-8-8
Jungkook awoke some hours later to the sun peeking
through the tent, seeping through the cracks at the ground. He lays there for a moment, not wanting to get up and face the world. His muscles ache from the long journey, his butt in particular, and he knows for a fact he only got around four hours of sleep.
He can hear the soldiers bustling around, generals shouting out orders, horses whining and huffing as they idly stand aside.
With a groan, and a lot of self-control, Jungkook forces himself up and out of the soft bedroll. Oh, how he wished to just fall back in the warm embrace of sleep and never face the horrors that were to come.
He walks over to where the basin of washing water was and dipped the rag provided inside. He scrubbed at his pale skin, the rag coming back brown and red, the water tainted with each re-dip.
He glances at his clothes from the day before and mentally groans. They're ruined, that's for sure. Blood and mud and other things he'd rather not think of staining it. His pants were better off than his shirt, with only a couple spattering here and there. His boots he didn't care about. Shoes are always getting dirty.
He pulls the soiled articles back on, nose wrinkling at the stench clinging to them. He'd have to ask for a spare set of clothes (or two) soon. He'll have someone fetch for his stuff later. Provided they are still there and haven't been stolen yet.
Running his hands through his hair, Jungkook contemplates just dunking his hair into the bowl and pouring the basin over it. After a moments hesitation, he does just that.
Scrubbing his fingers against his scalp to try and cleanse the dirt and oil from it, he finds himself holding his breath subconsciously. Only his eyes were submerged, his nose and mouth were above the water. He could breathe just fine. Whatever.
Shaking his wet hair out, he pats it dry before finally heading out of his tent to face the real world.
The sunlight is piercing, Jungkook staggering back a step at the intensity of it. His head throbs from exhaustion and anxiety.
The morning atmosphere is dreary, dull. The weather is cold and unforgiving, despite flowers are beginning to bloom back at home. The ice melting and the sun warming their skin. Here, despite it being so bright out, Jungkook can't even find the sun. It's hidden behind a mass of fluffy, menacing looking clouds.
Squinting, he keeps an eye out for a familiar face. He passes many men, all of whom bow, gawk, and promptly trip in order to get a look at him. It makes his skin crawl. He should be used to this kind of attention, but he doesn't think he ever will.
"Jungkook!" Jackson calls from a wooden table, eating something white and steaming, as he waved him over.
The dining area was in a big canopy tent, filled with many tables and a single table with food on it.
At first Jungkook assumed what his friend was eating was rice, but upon closer inspection, he found it most definitely not. It didn't even look edible, in the royal's opinion.
In fact, it closely resembled baby sick. It didn't smell like much, thankfully.
Jungkook plopped himself down on the wooden bench opposite Jackson with a heavy exhale. He watched as his breath swirled around in the air like smoke.
"You sleep good? It's still early, you could've slept in more. God knows you needed it," Jackson comments as he scoops up the sloppy substance, slurping it up with vigor.
Maybe it tasted better than it looked? Jungkook cast the goop a distasteful glance and vowed he'd never find out, if he could help it.
"I was asleep the second I got my boots off and my head hit the bed." Jungkook said with a crooked smile.
"So why didn't you sleep in more? You came in pretty late last night. Or, well, early, I guess." Jackson says around a mouthful. He gestures to the pot beside him, where more of that stuff resided. Chipped bowls and cups scattered about. There appeared to be a small pitcher of water, which Jungkook gladly poured himself a cup of.
"I can't. Literally and figuratively. I have to meet General Min for important business soon." Jungkook shrugs, polite enough to not draw attention the small nat floating in his water. He picks it out and flicks it away, sipping his water. This is the price you pay for freedom, he supposes. "By the way, what time is it?"
"Hm, a little after nine-thirty?"
Jungkook spits out his drink, coughing. Jackson wipes at his face, spewing a slew of curses and disgusted noises. "Nine-thirty? Shit I've kept him waiting for so long, I've got to go."
He nearly trips over the bench in his haste to get up, and he runs into a few men, apologizing, before he even makes it to the GOA tent.
General Min Yoongi was as intimidating as he was in Jungkook's memories. Black hair wind-swept and falling into his cat-like eyes. His uniform was impeccably clean, how he kept it that way, Jungkook couldn't even fathom. His boots shone in the morning light and his sword sparkled with a menacing gleam. He had a hat but he kept it under one arm, placed atop his hip as he looked over something with a soldier.
At the sound of Jungkook's heaving, he glanced over and scowled. "About fucking time. I've been waiting since seven." He says in lieu of greeting. He says a couple things to the soldier, nodding and passing the document back to him before walking over to the (rather chastised) royal. "Shall we go inside then so we can get this over with?"
He pries his tent entrance open without even waiting for a response, walking in and letting it flap shut in Jungkook's nose.
"Ah, y-yes." Jungkook croaks, scrambling to get inside. Yoongi's tent was almost criminally clean; His bed made, clothes and possessions all neatly stacked, packed, and folded in their correct places. Desk clear beside a bottle of ink and an orderly stack of documents. He had a cubby filled with tied scrolls and books.
The table in the corner was used for strategy planning, little troops and tents scattered about with purpose and intent.
It even smells nice here, like cinnamon and pine trees. To say Jungkook was impressed and flabbergasted would be an understatement.
Did he dust in here? I don't see a speck of dust or mud…
"Take off your shoes by the entrance," Yoongi's gruff voice rips him from his owlish gawking.
"I-I'm sorry, what?" Jungkook stutters, not sure if he heard right.
"Leave. Your shoes. By the entrance." Yoongi repeats himself, slow and bitingly.
"But you've still got your shoes on-" The raven haired boy begins, glaring at Yoongi's boots before glancing up at the man wearing them. He froze at the look he got. A glare, quirked eyebrow.
A pointed look to his own shoes, covered in blood and mud, and then to Yoongi's, polished, clean, shining.
Right.
With a sneaky eye-roll, Jungkook unties and slips out of his boots, leaving them neatly by the entrance.
"Right. Let's get this shit over with, shall we? I have soldiers-and generals- to put in line." Yoongi drawls out when Jungkook can finally muster the courage to slip beside him.
-8-8-8-8-8-8-
On the other side of the country, in the Castle of Jusan, two people meet up in secret behind closed doors. Heated kisses and soft touches fill the space, and they breathe out in the silence,
"I love you,"
"I love you, too."
Hoseok sees it all, hanging up above them in the curtains, the silken material wrapped around his legs and waist, holding him securely. His jester's hat and cane almost fall off his body, but he's quick to grab them before they could fall away and make his presence known.
An almost sinister smile breaks out on his face, the Jester biting down on his lip to stop from giggling.
I spy with my little eye,
A new secret.
No one ever looks up. Always look up.
8-8-8-8-8
Jungkook leaves Yoongi's tent with a clear battle strategy in mind, and some spare clothes as well. The elder had taken one look, and one sniff, before grumbling and storming to a chest. He all but threw the articles at him before shoving him out the door (do tents have doors?).
Jungkook held off from immediately changing, wanting to keep his clean clothes clean for as long as possible. He could withstand the stench of his current ones a bit longer.
He wasn't too sure when he was actually meant to join in on the fighting, but he wasn't jumping to join so he didn't mind waiting longer, anyway.
The camp was actually very cheerful, given the circumstances of their being here. Men cheered merrily where they drank soju under the dining tent.
It was most likely their day off. Other men were tending to the horses, brushing their coats and checking their hooves. The rest simply milled about, talking and laughing with one another in their shiny armor. Some practiced fighting, the sounds of iron on iron, steel on steel.
Jungkook passed them all, ignoring the looks he got, and marched up to Chestnut. He stops only to swipe a questionable looking apple which he offers up to the horse. "How are you, girl? Sleep well?" He asks, brushing the soft fur of her nose as she munched on the treat. She looked better even in such a short amount of time. The resting must have done her a world of good.
"You're a sweet girl. Brave, too. I bet Taehyung would love you." He sighs out, scratching behind her ears softly. She whinnies in response, and he likes to think she's saying she agrees. "You'd love him, too. He's the kindest, most amazing person I've ever met." He looks left than right, whispering conspiratorially to her from the side of his mouth, "Wanna know a secret? I think I love him, too."
She huffs out her nose, and Jungkook smiles, nose wrinkling as well. "I know, crazy, huh? But, it's true. I think I'll tell him when I get home." He thinks out loud to the animal, stroking her fur and keeping her company. Or was it her, that was keeping him company?
"If I get home," he mutters out only to mentally smack himself on the head. "No, not if, when. When, when you get home, Jungkook." He berates himself. There's no good in thinking like that, it only puts a damper on his mood and he's not the best fighter when he's distracted or upset.
He used to be distracted by Taehyung, used to be so caught up in his smile and laugh that he nearly lost his head more times than Jungkook can count during training. Now, he's distracted by his thoughts and worries, insecurities and fears that plague his mind and muddle it.
He needs to clear it all before he's to go to war. For real, this time.
Chestnut snorts and noses at his palm, and it draws him back to the present. Blinking away his troubled thoughts, Jungkook turns to peer at his new companion. "You're a very pretty girl. I hope you'll come to like me as much as I like you, because I think we'll be spending an awful lot of time together from now on." Jungkook mutters out, eyes wide as he continues to zone out a little.
"Jesus, Kook. You look like you've seen a ghost."
Jackson's voice draws him from the fog once again with a jolt and the prince stops idly brushing at Chestnut's mane. He turns to look at the elder over her shoulder.
"What do you mean?" he asks with a furrow in his brow. He'd simply been zoning out, deep in his thoughts.
"What do I- have you seen yourself when you zone out like that? It gives me chills." Jackson murmurs as he walks closer still.
Jungkook grunts out a response, not caring to speak. Jackson just rolls his eyes and elbows him good-naturedly. He's friendly. Almost too friendly in the eyes of others. If Jungkook were any other king, he'd surely cut the man's arm off for doing such a thing. But he is not like other kings, and Jackson is very lucky for it.
All he gets is an elbow to the ribs in retaliation.
"I leave for an ambush with some men tonight. We're hoping the veil of night will aid in hiding us." Jungkook murmurs out, feeding Chestnut one last treat and patting her nose, before leading Jackson away and to his tent.
His old mentor hums, thoughtful. "I know. I am to stay here and continue training the boys for war. Conditioning them to be men… Though, if I could, you know I'd fight beside you to the ends of the earth."
And the royal does know. He truly does. Jackson has always been there for him, even as a child. He's always had his back and continues to every day.
"I know. Thank you, Jackson. I think I'll take another nap before General Yoongi holds a briefing on the strategy." With that, he waves goodbye and scurries back into the (temporary) sanctuary that is his tent.
It's stale inside, much like the night before, but it's the price you pay for enclosed quarters out here. He strips himself of his dirty clothes and toss them aside. His cot is as uncomfortable as he remembers it being, but he still snuggles down into the scratchy sheets and lumpy pillows for a long, rewarding nap.
-8-8-8-8-
Taehyung struggled his way up the stairs, his trays (yes, plural) wavering dangerously as he balanced two on his forearms and two in his palms, a single tray atop his head. He was sweating and his hands were clammy from exertion as he forced his body to not sway and crash.
Princess Jisoo asked for a plethora of things. Tea, wine, cakes, sandwiches, yakgwa, songpyeong, hotteok, yakshik, kimchichigae, japchae, a lot of it didn't even go together.
Despite the odd cravings, this was not an uncommon request. What was an uncommon request, was that she'd asked from him. Specifically. By name. Him, Kim Taehyung. She'd asked for Kim Taehyung, which is he. He is Kim Taehyung, pastry chef.
Shit, he's so nervous he nearly misses a step, trays wobbling dangerously. He manages to get past the spiraling staircase, but the next challenge is the hallway. With trip-able rugs and many doors.
Why she asked for him, Taehyung doesn't know. He has an inkling, but he'd rather not ponder on said inkling because it involved a certain prince and he's not ready to open that all up just yet.
He misses Jungkook, but he can't afford to mess this up because of some silly feelings.
I wonder if he's eating well, if he's sleeping good. It's only been a few days since he left, but it feels like months.
Taehyung struggles to knock on the princess' door, using his foot when the guards around him make no move to help. Assholes. Think they're too good to help out a lowlife cook like me.
The door opens and Taehyung is hit with just how pretty the princess is all over again.
Hair cascading down her back in elegant curls, crown perched atop her head sparkling in the sunlight. Her dress was a vibrant shade of red, an off-the-shoulder neckline that when added with her teardrop diamond necklace, drew attention to her dainty, prominent collarbones. Chest milky white and looking about ready to burst forth their restraint.
Taehyung would assume she was dressing up for Jungkook, but the royal was nowhere to be found, so why is she flaunting herself as such?
Her skirt was big and she looked to be swimming in it where she sat by the window. The delicate gold detailing in the dress was remarkable, unlike anything he'd ever seen before.
"Taehyung, welcome. You can set those down over here," The princess said when she lifted her head from the book she was reading. Perfect smile with perfect, white teeth.
Taehyung kind of hates her.
The baker walks steadily and squats to place the dishes down carefully, only breathing out when the last dish is placed safely on the table. His arms ache and tingle when he puts them down, his head feels odd after such a weight was lifted after so long.
"Oh, please, have a seat. I made you walk all the way up here, carrying all these heavy dishes. The least I could do is sit and have tea with you." She says with a tinkling laugh, waving the boy down with a bejeweled hand. The bracelet Jungkook gave her (he was forced to) as a betrothal gift was not left unnoticed. She made sure of that. The diamond encrusted rose gold dangling reminder that his boyfriend was not truly his, was only adding to his annoyance.
"Here, have a cake while you're at it. The baker here is simply the best, I have not had a single bad pastry the entire time I've been here… Do you know them?" She bats her eyes at him innocently while she plates him one of the small tea cakes. The ones he made, because he's the only baker here (they hire more hands seasonally if there is a ball or something that requires an abundance of treats) and he's positive that she knows it, too.
"You flatter me, your highness." Taehyung says, monotonously as he drops three cubes of sugar in his tea.
"You? You make the cakes? I had no idea!" She gasps out, clearly faking it, and Taehyung is this close to slamming his head into the table. She continues to ramble on about this and that, the weather, how Jungkook could be doing, how one time she went to a ball and the princess there was wearing the same shoes as her, how Seokjin likes to eat as much as he likes to brag on his good looks.
Its when she asks how the boy decorates his pastries so well, and if he was born into a 'baking family' that he really can't take this anymore. His cup has been filled three times now, every time he tries to down it all and use the empty cup as a means to leave, she'd fill it right back up and blather on. If he continues on he'll have to pee all day and night.
"If I may speak freely, your highness?" He cuts into her story, causing her to halt and stare at him, cup raised to take a sip.
Jisoo eyes him with suspicion but also interest, and she nods with a "You may," and that's all the baker needs to blurt out "Please cut to the chase. We both know you've asked me here today with something specific in mind. No need to drag me all the way up here just to play nice and have small talk." He can't look her in the eye, suddenly feeling very small under her gaze. "No beating around the bush, as they say. Please. Your highness."
"You're observant, good. It was getting tiring trying to rope you into small talk. It's like talking to a wall." She rolls her eyes, leaning back in her seat more comfortably.
"Yes, well, I'm feeling rather myself, too. Do you realize how stressful it is to sit here and talk with a royal, someone who could have you fired or even hanged?" Taehyung breathes out, relaxing into his seat in utter exhaustion. The stress of not fucking up in front of your boyfriend's royal fiance was high. "I'm sweating I'm so stressed."
"I see. I'm sorry for that, it was never my intention to make you… Sweat." She states, brows furrowed as she stared at his armpit, as if willing the sweat to show itself. He didn't have the heart (or balls) to tell her that it isn't his pits she should be worried about. It was his ass. He shifted on the seat and cringed. Definitely his ass.
"I merely wanted to ask you what your relationship with Jungkook is." Her voice cuts harsh in the silent room, not even the birds chirping outside make a peep as the two humans stare at one another. "He is my prince, my king, and I serve him. That is all." Taehyung responds evenly. Jisoo scoffs and looks off to the side, out the window.
"Cut the bullshit, Taehyung. You and I both know there's something up with you two. Always staring at each other across rooms, always hanging out, laughing, joking. You even baked together, that one time I walked in on you two. Even his demon dog likes you! He hates everyone!" She stresses, chin resting in hand. She looks the picture of ease, and if you saw her you'd assume so. But inside was a storm of emotions and while her body language and face hid it well, her voice did not.
It crackled out like thunder in a storm. Sent shivers down Taehyung's back and suddenly he felt much colder than before. Jisoo looked at him from the corner of her eye and that look spoke words. You could fill books with that single look.
"So, you will tell me what exactly you two are, or I will have you fired. Or worse, hanged." She stated, using Taehyung's own words against him, sweet smile on her face that contradicted everything about this situation.
"Fine. We're friends, that is all." Taehyung broke, staring down at the fine china his uneaten cake sat on. It was very pretty china, gold edges and painted roses. Pretty china for the pretty princess.
Jungkook belongs with her. They belong in this world of riches and luxury, whereas I live in a world of rags and cramped quarters.
Not for the first time, Jisoo regarded the man before her. "I don't believe you. You're awfully close for 'just friends'. So tell me the truth, Taehyung. Or I'll yell for the guards and say you tried to touch me, and you'll have your hands chopped off and your limbs pulled apart by horses. What are you to Jungkook? Are you scheming something? Is he doing drugs, are you his supplier? Is that why he likes your treats so much? You infuse it with milk of the poppy?" She accuses, facing him full on now. Taehyung stares, mouth agape in his shock. She threatens him so simply, and then goes on to accuse Jungkook of being addicted to poppy milk?
"No, never! Jungkook is good, he is not-"
"Then what is it? Do you supply him with whores? Is that why he spared me no look but cant take his eyes off you? He's imagining all the women he'll fuck later courtesy of you?"
"What? Of course not! Where on earth-?" Taehyung's too appalled and shocked to move. This conversation was dangerous, but so was she.
"He could have any woman in court by that logic, though. Is there a thrill of fucking common whores? Are noble women and princesses not thrilling enough? A rush of knowing he could get caught? Or is it because he's a price and they're the forbidden fruit? I don't understand, Taehyung, make me understand why my fiance doesn't love me?" Oh no. Oh no, no, no. This was not a conversation the baker should be hearing much lest having.
"Your highness-" Taehyung squeaks out, desperately trying to stop this before it escalated out of control for both of them.
"Your hands will be chopped off, and your limbs pulled apart by horses."
"Why does he not lust for me? Not once has he tried to touch me, did you know? Not once have I caught him looking at my breasts, nor my body at all. At first I assumed it was him being polite. That charming, respectful prince bullshit act they all have but then weeks went on and still nothing. Usually by then boys try their luck and cop a feel, but nothing. All he ever looked at was you. All he ever talked about was you, until I asked about you, and then he didn't. Then he stopped talking altogether." Jisoo is working herself up into hysterics now, eyes wild as she spews forth the storm she'd had left brewing inside for too long.
"Princess Kim," Taehyung peeps, voice pleading.
"He withdrew within himself, and it was like we'd just met all over again. And when he is not with me, out of obligation, he is with you. When he was not studying battle strategy, practicing fighting, or working with Namjoon, he was with you. When his father died, he did not speak to anyone for days, but my handmaids say they say you heading to his quarters one night before he left. He did not once ask to see me, but he calls for a lowlife servant?"
He did not once call for me, either. I went looking out of worry and love, and woke to shame and regret for my actions instead.
Taehyung still felt awful for essentially forcing himself onto Jungkook, but now is not the time to open that can of worms.
"Princess, please calm down, you're going to make yourself sick at this rate," He urges, voice stronger than he felt.
"I already am! I am sick everyday not knowing what Jungkook is up to with you. I am sick with envy and hatred for how he acts around you. I feel useless, hopeless, and hideous when I see how he is around you. I hate that I know if push came to shove, he would cast me aside to protect you. Because I can see it in his eyes. You are precious to him, and I am not. I will never be, Taehyung. With you in the picture, I will never measure up." She sniffs out, eyes damp and cheeks red as she stares at her lap. "So please, just for this once, tell me the truth. Pretend I am not your king's fiance, I am not a princess. Pretend I am your friend, or a servant like yourself. Just tell me the truth so I can at least let my troubled mind at ease some."
"Jisoo, I-"
"I already know, Taehyung. I just need to hear it from you." She whispers, body sagging and the baker feels sympathetic towards her, but he really can't. "Anything you say will not leave this room. I will not breathe a word to another soul. I just need to know. Please let me know, Taehyung."
"Jisoo, I already told you-"
"Don't give me that 'we're just friends' bullshit anymore, Taehyung!" She spits out, suddenly angry again. Her eyes, while red and watery, are icy and stone cold. "I see how he looks at you, like you hung the fucking stars in the sky! I just need to hear it, need to know I'm not crazy for thinking he loves you, and you love him."
The bomb has been dropped. There is no taking her words back now, and the princess looks down and to the side, at the plush rug beside her. She can't bear to look at the servant before her, something she has never struggled with. She's always known her place, how she is above others and should never be looked down on by them. But right now she can't muster the courage to look up, not even at the baker's chest.
A beat of silence. Heavy and thick.
Taehyung sucks in a breath and blinks his eyes fast to dispel the tears gathering there. He's going to hell for this. He's going to be hanged and Jungkook is going to be devastated he didn't get to say goodbye.
For Jungkook is an angel, and Taehyung the demon that tricked him into falling from heaven. Into loving him. Taehyung will remain in hell, and Jugkook will spread his wings and ascend back up to heaven.
But Taehyung is a weak man. And he's so tired of fighting with Jisoo.
So what if he dies? Jungkook will be alright, they cannot kill the king. Jisoo will keep him all to herself, and Taehyung will be a forgotten love soon enough.
"You're not crazy."
It's like their roles are reversed, for when she snaps her head up, he snaps his down. A sad smile tugs at his lips and he bites back a cry.
"You're not crazy, Jisoo. I do love him. With my entire being. And I like to think he loves me too." Taehyung whispers out, fingers fiddling with the cloth napkin he was given earlier.
"I knew it." Jisoo breathes out, and when Taehyung musters up the courage to look at her, he's rendered speechless.
For gone are Jisoo's tears, gone is the slouch of her back and the pitiful look. No, her eyes have lit up, her back straight as she looks down her nose at him, head raised high. A twitch of her lips has Taehyung's heart plummeting. He's done something terribly, terribly wrong.
Cheeks bunching up and eyes pleased, her lips spread up into a wide, menacing smile.
Moments ago, Taehyung had thought the princess a sad, lost puppy.
But he'd been so wrong, and as the baker gulps and his palms sweat in fear he realizes it belatedly.
No, Jisoo is not a puppy, has never been one but a fierce, cunning cat and her Cheshire grin mocks him.
She's a cat and she just caught her prey.
8-8-8-8-8-8-8
The sky was black by now, and the world around him shrouded in darkness. Jungkook took a deep, grounding breath. Chestnut huffed out quietly. She's a very good horse, one of the best he's ever had, really. She hasn't made a fuss or any noise all night, like she knows she's meant to be quiet. She doesn't spook easily, either, as proven earlier.
Jungkook pets her neck as he sits straight on her back, eyes scanning in the darkness. The moon is hidden behind the clouds and it's so dark, he can't even make out his hand in front of his face. Giving up, Jungkook turns to Jackson who sits on his own horse beside him.
"When do we move?" He whispers out, turning back to the darkness when he realizes with a sense of idiocy, that if he can't even see his hand, he won't be able to see Jackson.
"Soon. The spy said they would be moving camp tonight, and that they'd planned to move through here." Jackson whispers back. The clouds shift, a sliver of moonlight peeking out. It illuminates the vast, empty canyon below them. Jungkook didn't even know his country had canyons such as these, but never mind that.
His heart is pumping rapidly, his hands clammy where they hold his sword and the reigns. His legs feel jittery and he wants to just go, but he knows he can't but he still feels trapped and anxious. His second battle will be down there. This time, much like the last, the enemies won't hesitate to kill. This isn't like practise with Jackson or his father. They won't try to just scrape him, they're aiming for the kill.
They sit there for a good half hour, waiting. There was nothing to do, nothing to see, just the quiet shuffle of armor, an occasional horse huff and stomp. One horse took a shit and they had to smell that for the duration of the wait, which was lovely.
But eventually the steady sound of hooves and feet reached their ears. The corner of the canyon was lit up with an orange glow, and everyone sat up straighter.
There, below them, was a little part of the enemy's army. Just walking, oblivious to the five thousand men waiting above them. They were ready to pounce, but they had to wait for Jungkook's signal first.
The men below them rounded the corner, and Jungkook felt his heart pummel when he saw the numbers. They had underestimated how big the group would be. What looked to be twice the men Jungkook had brought and all carrying weapons it seemed. A couple wielded torches to light the way, but that could easily shift to a weapon if push came to shove.
He did not want to be burned. Nope.
A couple wagons with tents and other miscellaneous things, some carts with hay for the horses.
The sliver of light allowed his men to see Jungkook, and they all watched with bated breath. A little more, hold on, men… Just a little closer.
Jungkook waited until they were right under their noses before he raised his right fist, and a thousand archers notched their arrows, waiting to release hell on them.
They hadn't been able to use flaming arrows, lest the give away the darkness that made the ambush possible, but normal arrows dipped in acid hurt just as bad he supposed.
Jungkook closed his eyes, and after swallowing heavily, he lowered his arm and watched as a thousand arrows reined down on the unsuspecting party.
God have mercy on us all.
Jungkook watched as the men let out startled yelps, many yelling in agony. Some dropped dead, arrows lodged in eyes and skulls.
With a mighty cry, Jungkook lead his men down the canyon, sword raised and ready. The archers didn't waste any time with firing more arrows, and while Jungkook had originally hated the feeling of his helmet, he now blessed the gods for having it. It was the only thing between those arrows and his brains.
His men spread out once able, their own warcries echoing in the darkness. Horses got spooked, running into one another and tripping men as they avoided the loud army.
The prince swung his sword and have to look to know heads were rolling. Didn't want to. The clang of metal on metal, it was piercing in the quiet night and it sent shivers down Jungkook's spine.
The canyon had a cold malevolent feeling to it, the wind howling now, or was that his blood rushing in his ears?
A fog was rolling in, and Jungkook had a moment of despair. They couldn't fight if they couldn't see. It was dense, so thick and heavy that you'd need to cut through it to see. Jungkook knew, though, that he wasn't alone. His men were fighting bravely beside him, and this was no time to lose his head.
At first, nothing seemed to happen. Everyone stopped momentarily as the fog settled down on them.
Chestnut stepped back some, confused and disoriented. Jungkook's hands gripped the cold steel of his sword and he looked all around him, anxiety and fear swimming in his chest.
It was silent. Not a breath. Just them, the feeling of aloneness the fog gave, and the wind.
And then suddenly, they were being mobbed, swords swinging left and right, plunging into chests and cutting into necks. It was a brutal sight, one of many Jungkook will come to see, and the prince startles slightly and tugs back on Chestnut in hopes of getting away. Thirty men were dead before anyone knew what had happened.
Jungkook and his men snapped out of it, charging and fighting back with just as much fervor.
The air was hazy, a red mist thrown up from the sheer blood split. They were mangling and gashing their serried ranks under a starless sky. It was a massacre, while they had more numbers, they didn't seem to have much technic. Both sides were losing men, but Jungkook had hope that through the fog his men were winning.
A windstorm of arrows rained down from their side, and Jungkook heard men scream out in pain. Wails, screams, the sound of a man choking on his own blood. Men blubbered and wailed as the ground beneath them became slick with gore.
Those sounds… They will haunt Jungkook forever, he is sure of it. The sounds will echo in his dreams, the pictures will paint themselves behind his eyelids.
Jungkook yelled out, irrational courage searing through him, leaving him helplessly incapable of resisting the overpowering wave of emotion, and he charged forth into the crowd, sword never once ceasing as he slashed, stabbed, slaughtered and sliced the enemy. A red haze had covered his very being and he knew no more.
A/N: Title is from Tonight by Seokjin.
Is anyone even still here? *Crickets* Ha... I see.
If there is anyone still here *crickets* I hope you liked this chapter!
I'm sorry, I'm literally so terrible at updating and I fall back on promises of updating soon BuT I SwEaR I'm not trying to! I love ya'll and if you celebrate it, have a very lovely thanksgiving! xoxox
Hugs,
MC