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elle

elle
@yoonmin_cheri

Nov 15, 2022

yoonmin nsfw au - after usurping the crown from his late father, new king min yoongi is required to find a wife. while meeting the most eligible princesses in the neighboring kingdoms, king yoongi shocks everyone when he declares that he will marry none other than servant jimin.

tags: - joseon era au - mad king yoongi - low servant jimin - murder

- poor treatment of the lower class

- (mentioned) child labor

- graphic violence

- severe power imbalance

- tags will be updated with future updates

author's note: this au is rooted heavily joseon era, but it is not meant to be a realistic portrait of joseon life. there will be some historical research, but details may be skimmed over. in addition, certain aspects may be altered to fit into the story. pay attention to tags!

Jimin had been sold into servitude as a young child. Growing up in the palace hadn’t been so bad compared to the life he could have lived outside of their pristine walls. He was given steady meals, had somewhere to lay his head every evening,

and didn’t have to worry about finding refuge from the cold during the darkest days of winter. That wasn’t to say that he enjoyed being flung into whatever strange work his supervisor found for him that day. Too many times he’d been tasked with cleaning the pathways

of the ondol floors in the summer, stuck in a stuffy chimney sweeping soot. Or ordered to clean the mess that birds had left on the golden rooves of the palace. But at least he wasn’t starving or worse in the alleyways of Hanyang like so many other people.

He'd been in the palace long enough to forget his family. He could barely remember anything about his life before the palace, vague memories of parents with too many children shoved into a tiny house that required everyone to huddle together for body warmth during a snowstorm.

If he’d been tasked with finding his mother in a crowd, he doubted that he’d be able to succeed. All he knew was that his parents had been of the lowest peasant class of Joseon, a fact that the higher-ranking servants readily reminded him of. “Jimin,” head servant Misoo barks,

the young man stepping forward and dropping to the ground in a bow as though he were addressing the king himself, “Good boy.” Jimin bites his tongue at the satisfaction that his obedience has brought to the cruel head servant. “We have princesses coming from neighboring kingdoms

next week for the new king to evaluate for a wife. You will be assigned as one princess’s closest servants.” Jimin winces in pain, thankful that his face is still pointed at the ground and his hands pressed firmly in front of him. “I understand, head servant-nim.”

“You must do her bidding, no matter what. If she demands for you to swim in the pig’s dung, then you will do it.” Misoo instructs. Jimin knows that his evil supervisor will pass on such a message to the princess, perhaps in the hope that the princess will test her power on Jimin.

“While you are tasked to care for the princess, you must also keep your ears open for any unfavorable opinions or secrets she might hold.” “I understand, head servant-nim,” Jimin forces himself to say, desperately trying to remain poised in front of his supervisor.

The idea of being a spy gives him shivers, worry seeping into his skin at potentially being caught between two powerful kingdoms. Perhaps Misoo feels joy at the potential for Jimin to be disposed of like the worthless peasant he is.

“You may continue your duty of readying the tea for the royal family this evening,”she continues, “Tomorrow you will report to me 1st thing in the morning for your position.” Jimin scurries off to the kitchens, grateful that he’s allowed to interact with the kitchen staff there.

His close friends Seokjin and Taehyung are both part of the kitchen staff, usually delivering food after it’s been prepared by the cooks. They’ll be the ones delivering the tea that Jimin has prepared for the royal family today, along with a collection of snacks.

“I won’t be here for a few days,” Jimin sighs as he tears the dried leaves into small pieces to better extract the flavor, “I’m being assigned to princess duty.” Taehyung frowns as he watches the servant work, “Was that your supervisor’s idea?” Jimin nods as Seokjin arranges

the tea snack on the plates. “I don’t know why your supervisor hates you so much.” “She always likes to remind me of my family’s status in Joseon,” Jimin explains to both Taehyung and Seokjin rolling their eyes on behalf of their friend, “Even among us servants,

family status is crucial. I’m just lucky that I’m not a member of the slave class.” Both the kitchen servants give a long look at Jimin, both the sons of decently middle-class merchants. As second born sons, they’re expected to find their own way in the world

compared to their elder brothers who will carry on their families’ names. The money that they earn at the palace as middle-class servants is enough to pay for both lodging and to send money back to their families, a luxury that Jimin can’t even imagine.

Jimin finishes up making tea and hands it off to Taehyung to be delivered to the royal family. “I’ll see you two... eventually,” Jimin says before he bids both delivery servants good evening. That evening, Jimin tosses and turns, sleep unwilling to come.

While he can gauge the cruel treatment that head servant Misoo gives him, he doesn’t know what this princess will be like. Will she be kind and caring to him, or save such a face only for the king himself? At least as a man, Jimin doesn’t have to worry about bedroom duty,

so he can only assist her while she’s properly dressed for the day. The reality is though, Jimin has no say in the treatment that the princess might give him. He is still a member of the lowest class of Joseon, bound to the palace by way of his poor parents

who’d locked him to these walls when he was barely old enough to fend for himself. In the morning, he reports to Misoo as instructed, bracing himself for a long, drawn out day. “You will be assigned to Princess Dahee,” Misoo explains,

“She will be lodged in the building on the far eastern part of the garden.”Jimin feels the color drain from his face as he realizes that the building is on the furthest edge from the kitchens and the center of the palace. Meaning that he will be tasked with heading back and forth

between the princess’s quarters and the rest of the palace for every miniscule task the princess puts him through. If she wants a cup of tea, he will have to trek all the way to the kitchens. Should she ask for any poetry or entertainment,

Jimin would have to walk to the entertainers’ house for her. Perhaps being a bedroom attendant for the princess would be preferred after all. “I understand, head servant-nim,” Jimin says with a low bow. “Well, you better get going,” Misoo clicks her tongue

and motions for him to leave the servants’ quarters, “You know how far away the princess’s quarters are. She’ll be arriving any minute now.” Jimin dashes as quickly as he can across the vast courtyards and finally the east garden. By the time that he makes it to the princess’s

supposed quarters, he’s panting and out of breath. By the sheer luck of the gods, he has arrived before the princess’s procession. He’s even able to introduce himself to the other servants assigned to Princess Dahee. “Tae!” Jimin squeals, running up to hug his best friend,

“You’re assigned to Princess Dahee too?” Taehyung shakes his head, “I’m only here to confer with Princess Dahee’s servants the type of meals that the kitchens ought to serve her. You know how picky royals are.” “Well,we can only hope she isn’t cruel,” Jimin says as the sound of

a drum rumbling announces the princess’s arrival to the palace. Jimin is immediately tasked with bringing in the princess’s many belongings, carrying in golden chest after golden chest. He doesn’t know what exactly each contains, but he is given strict orders.

“Should one of my chests become damaged at any point,” the princess says with a cold tone, “I will have your head. Do not ask what will become of your body.” Jimin takes extra care for each chest now, not willing to test the princess’s limits.

The fact that she’d taken time out of the day to address him personally told him that she was not one to challenge. She didn’t risk someone gently encouraging him to be careful; she’d made sure to threaten him herself. The entire rest of the day,

Jimin is sent on errand after errand. He first has to bring her tea, which she refuses to drink without a musician. Then, in the evening, she requests for a certain darkness of ink, relaying the request to him quickly, using specific terminology that he is uneducated about.

When he returns to inform that the palace does not currently have the exact pigment she is requesting, she informs him that the ink is in her belongings. Jimin, as a servant, is unable to remind the princess that she had not told him such a thing in the first place.

The next day is the first day of the courting ceremony. In the early morning, Jimin arrives at the princess’s building where she is already being dressed. He brings her breakfast from the kitchens, listening as she loudly complaints about the lack of taste.

Jimin bites his tongue at how delicious the princess’s breakfast must be compared to his watery porridge. It’s barely past noon before the princess must make her way to the main pavilion in the palace. In the king’s throne room,

the princesses will gather to be introduced to the new king. Jimin has not laid eyes on the king himself in many years. As a servant of the lowest class, Jimin was always sent away any time there was mention of a member of the royal family.

The last time that Jimin remembered seeing the now-king with his own eyes had been when he was a grand prince. The prince had been playing in the gardens, brandishing a sword that was far too realistic for a boy of ten years old.

Even then, he’d had such beautiful, blonde flowing hair that he looked like he was bathed in perpetual sunlight. Jimin had been punished thoroughly for even daring to cast his eyes on the prince. The princesses are all guided by servants who help them

in their most luxurious, grandest hanbok. There are three princesses, including Princess Dahee. As expected, they are all beautiful with perfectly painted makeup, hair done to an impeccable standard. The other princesses are both adorned in soft pinks and whites,

while Princess Dahee wears a baby blue jacket with a golden yellow skirt. The princesses are by far the most beautiful women that Jimin has ever laid eyes upon, the servant purposely down casting his glance so as not to be accused of gawking.

The royal attendant calls in the princesses to the throne room. The women all stand in front of the king, their servants behind them for any immediate aid. Jimin feels a sort of tightness envelop his chest the moment that he steps through the door behind Princess Dahee.

The throne room is a tense place, the idea that the most powerful man in the entire kingdom is within his sight making Jimin feel dizzy. Everyone in the throne room is keenly evaluating the 3 princesses, eyeing for any potential flaw or faux pas. “Your highest, most holy sun,”

the head court minister addresses the king, Jimin not even daring cast a fleeting look at the leader of the kingdom, “Before you are the 3 eligible brides. Princess Hejing comes from the kingdom to the west. Princess Jeonghye is the second daughter of King Yangwon to the north.

The third princess is Princess Dahee from the kingdom to the south, first daughter of King Gyeonsang.” Jimin hears, but he does not see, as the young king steps down from his throne. The king’s steps echo through the throne room, everyone holding their breath

as the king inspects the princesses before him. It is so quiet that even the sound of a grain of rice falling to the floor would draw everyone’s attention. Jimin listens attentively as the king stops in front of Princess Hejing. Short, brief words are exchanged between the two,

but the usage of an interpreter for their conversation has the king scoffing and moving onto the next princess. With the king closer now, Jimin can hear their discussion. “Introduce yourself to me,” the king demands in a low voice. “I am the second daughter of King Yangwon,

Princess Jeonghye, your most royal highness,” she says in a voice that sounds like an attempt at bravery, but failing at the fearsome nature of the king. “King Yangwon is a weak, spineless king who allows for his mother to rule his lands for him,” the king spits out like venom,

words so low and harsh that they nearly make Jimin sick just listening to them, “I refuse to have a weak, spineless woman for a wife.” Though Jimin dare not look directly, he can see as Princess Jeonghye’s hand begins to quiver next to her side at the insult.

The sound of the king’s footsteps come to stand just in front of Princess Dahee. “Go on,” the king says dismissively, “You know what to do.” Jimin nearly bites through his cheek with the force it takes not to gasp at the king’s incredibly rude, crass manner of speaking

to Princess Dahee. Still, the princess separating Jimin from the most fearsome man in the land stands tall, hands unwavering at her side, her voice strong. “My father is the honorable King Gyeonsang and I am humbly presenting myself as Princess Dahee.”

Nearly on the tip of his toes in anticipation at the king’s opinion of the princess before him, Jimin waits for the king’s (likely) scathing remark. Yet he continues to wait. There is nothing that the king says about Princess Dahee, drawing the attention of everyone in the hall.

After a few torturous seconds, the sound of the king’s shoes echo through the hall as a pair of golden shoes come into Jimin’s view of the floor. “Servant,” the king says, his voice clearly directed at Jimin who feels his head growing light

with the mere idea of the king addressing him personally, “Introduce yourself to me.” Jimin feels his entire body shake, praying with every fiber of his being that he is not being the one addressed. Then, the king’s long, bony finger comes into Jimin’s vision

as Jimin wonders if staring hard enough will bore a hole in the floor. The feeling of the king poking his shoulder has Jimin nearly toppling over, not realizing that he’d locked his legs tight in fear. “Introduce yourself to me before I cut your fucking head off.”

“Your great, royal highness, son of the sun itself, our most holy leader, my humble name is simply Jimin,” Jimin barely manages to say, his whole body shaking in nothing short of pure fear. “Look at me,” the king demands, “Let me see your face.” Jimin swallows hard,

body cold with terror, “I cannot, your imperial majesty, for I am not worthy.” “Did I ask if you were worthy?” the king asks before he harshly grabs at Jimin’s jaw, forcing him to look straight into the face of the king. All sense of feeling leaves Jimin’s body

as he hastily averts his eyes from the king, who studies him as though he is a piece of art. Yet, even the briefest glance has Jimin left in sheer awe of how truly beautiful their king looks. Like when Jimin had seen the prince in the garden,

the king still has long, flowing blonde hair. Only now, his hair cascades down his shoulders, held back in a fashion that makes him look even more beautiful than the most esteemed princess in all of the kingdoms. He also now boasts a deep scar over his eye.

Jimin had heard that the scar had been the lasting proof that Yoongi had obtained the throne solely by spilling his own father’s blood. The king releases Jimin from his grasp only to turn to the rest of the court. “I have made my decision,” the king announces regally

as Jimin turns his gaze back to the floor, the king’s shoes returning to the center of the throne room, “I will marry the servant boy, Jimin, for his beauty and humbleness have pleased me this afternoon.” Gasps fill the room as nothing short of pure chaos erupts.

The royal advisors are understandably in an uproar, the princesses are turned mute with shock, and Jimin pinches himself to assure himself that he is not dreaming. “You can’t do that!” the head court minister proclaims over the commotion, “He is not of royal blood!”

Jimin does not dare look, but the sound of the king’s shoes quickly cross the room. At the sound of the door opening, Jimin looks up to see the king dragging the court minister out of the throne, before the sound of a blade cutting through flesh stops everyone’s chatter.

When the king returns, his robes are soaked in fresh blood. “Does anyone else dare to defy my proclamation!?” Pure silence fills the throne hall once again, only punctuated by the sound of crows gathering in front of the throne room doors.

“Make preparations for a royal wedding in two weeks,” the king commands to absolutely no argument from any in attendance. “Head Minister Kim Namjoon,” he further continues,

“find a suitable clan to place my fiancé in. I think the Park clan has some spots in their genealogy book that he can fit into.” “I understand, your majesty,” the deep voice of the (now) head court minister says obediently.

“Minister Jung Hoseok,” the king continues as he comes to step in front of Jimin once more, taking Jimin’s jaw into his hand once again. As the king admires Jimin’s face, the sharp, tangy smell of blood from the king’s hanbok fills Jimin’s nose with its pungency,

“Tell the kitchens and the servant staff that I wish to have my betrothed for company at dinner this evening. Anyone who protests, bring them to me and I will deal with them personally.”

The palace seems to turn upside down with the king’s royal decision. The various factions of servants are turned frantic with the sudden need to turn a literal peasant into an acceptable guest for a king. Jimin is quickly whisked away

by the minister Jung Hoseok towards a part of the palace that Jimin has never seen with his own eyes before. The two walk with quick strides, Hoseok going so quickly that Jimin struggles to keep up.

As they walk back through the government buildings and head towards the royal family’s personal estate, Hoseok barks at a passing servant, “I need a royal dresser, a royal hair stylists, and a royal family’s servant immediately to the late queen’s quarters.

Do not question why beyond the king himself has requested it.” The servant, smartly, bites their tongue and dashes off towards the servants’ quarters to relay the message.

Jimin walks past the last gate of the government buildings before they come across the large pond that separates them from the royal family’s private estate. “Jung-minister,”Jimin says in a voice that wavers far too much for his liking,“Do you think the king is going to kill me?”

Hoseok casts a glance back at the servant with narrowed eyes, assessing the young man as the two round the outer edge of the pond. “I don’t know what that king is thinking,” he admits, “but Yoongi is smart. He always has a plan in place.

You don’t run a successful coup without having a solid head on your shoulders.” Jimin tries to keep himself composed as the minister purposefully doesn’t answer his question.

“You are a close friend of the king?” Jimin asks innocently, but the question has the minister stopping dead in his tracks. Just barely does Jimin narrowly miss running straight into Hoseok’s back.

“Listen, servant,” Hoseok says, before very quickly correcting in polite language fit for a member of the royal family, “Jimin-mama, I know you aren’t yet versed on the intricacies of the royal family, but I highly, /highly/ encourage you to remember one thing above all else.”

Jimin nods dumbly at the serious tone. “Listen and watch how others behave before you say or do anything. It could save your life.” With a turn of his heel, Hoseok takes off again towards the royal family’s estate.

As they make their way towards the estate gates, Jimin realizes that such advice really ought to be obvious. The servants that he worked with on a daily basis tended to be of the same social rank as him,

willing to answer questions about how they came to live in the palace. Things that they liked and disliked. Gossipy bits that turned into juicy conversations. But such casual words were infamously the kind that got people’s heads cut off by the king’s sword.

After all, only minutes ago had the king killed his highest ranking minister for protesting the royal wedding decree.

They make it to the late queen’s quarters where Hoseok opens the door and hurriedly flings open the windows to capture as much natural light as possible from the sun. “We’ll need to have you dressed in proper clothes, wrangle your hair into a manageable fashion,”

Hoseok explains as Jimin stands awkwardly in the entryway, not sure what he’s supposed to or where he’s supposed to go, “and then they’ll need to give you a crash course on proper table manners and dining etiquette.”

Jimin swallows hard at all that must be done in only a few short hours. “Hurry hurry,” Hoseok says as he motions Jimin into the late queen’s chambers, “There’s not much time for you to dawdle. Come sit down here so the royal attendants can work on you.”

Jimin comes to sit on a low cushion that’s just in front of a luxurious, dark-wooded table that’s bathed in copious amounts of lacquer. Just as he makes himself comfortable on the seat, there’s a small commotion from the front of the house. “You called for me, Hoseok-hyung?”

a man calls, obviously out of breath. “Jungkook-ah! I’m so glad you were free,” Hoseok says as he tidies up the late queen’s quarters, mostly fluttering around doing much of nothing but looking busy, “Our most holy king has decided his future spouse.”

Jimin purposefully doesn’t look behind him, but if he were a cat, his ears would be perked backwards to catch the two’s conversation. “Well, where is she?” Jungkook asks.

“/He/ is here,” Hoseok brings the servant into the antechamber where Jimin sits, “the king has decided he will not take a wife, but a husband.”

Jimin gets his first look at Jungkook and is immediately amazed by how wide the young servant’s eyes are. He looks friendly though, clean and his complex well kept. To be a servant with direct contact to the royal family,

he must have been both high in status as well as relatively pleasing to look at. Jungkook looks between Hoseok and Jimin multiple times, the confusion clear on his face. “Hyung are you...”

“Don’t question it,” Hoseok says with an air of finality that stops the young servant from speaking, “This young man, Jimin-mama, will be joining the king for dinner tonight. So we need to get him ready as soon as possible.”

Jungkook’s large eyes nearly bulge out of his head, “For dinner? That’s only in about five hours!” “I am very aware,” Hoseok states, “but the king was very clear in his intention. Can you help him this afternoon? I’ve already called for the royal dresser and

someone to deal with his hair, but he doesn’t know anything about being a member of royalty. Namjoon and I are going to have to deal with the political fallout from the king declaring he’s going to take a husband for the rest of the afternoon.”

Jungkook lets out a low whistle in disbelief, “At least you guys have lots of practice from trying to spin the coup in a positive light.” Hoseok lets out a low, exhausted groan at the reminder before he dismisses himself.

The royal servant drops to his knees and places his hands gracefully before him. “Your royal majesty, Jimin-mama,” Jimin still cannot adjust to the regal title suddenly being attached to his name,

“I humbly introduce myself to you as Jeon Jungkook, third son of the revered scholar Jeon Junghyuk. I will assist you today in whatever method your imperial majesty may require.”

Jimin quickly reaches forward to place his hands on top of the young servant’s in desperate plea, “Jungkook-nim, you don’t need to be so formal. Please. I’m just a servant of the cheonmin class.” Jungkook curiously lifts his head from his bow,

eyes studying Jimin’s face for any potential signs of jest. “But, Jung-minister said...” “I don’t know how I got here,” Jimin admits helplessly, “I was assigned to wait on Princess Dahee and somehow the king saw me during the courting ceremony and then he just wanted to marry me

instead of the princesses.” Jungkook analyzes the man in front of him suspiciously, though Jimin can hardly blame him. “I’m just as confused as you are. Only now the king wants to eat dinner with me tonight.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue and cocks his head in pure confusion, before he straightens from his bowed position on the floor, “Well, okay, let’s get you ready as best we can for dinner.” Moments later, the royal dresser and the royal stylist appear at the late queen’s quarters.

The dresser is a small, stout woman who seems to be just as confused as she is uptight. In fact, due to Jimin’s upbringing in the palace, he feels a sense of fear when looking at such a prim woman. She seems to be the same kind of woman as Misoo;

only now he’s her client rather her subordinate. “I certainly can’t make a whole hanbok in five hours,” she frets out loud, though it doesn’t seem to be a complaint aimed at anybody present, “Let me measure you, your royal highness.”

Jimin keeps his mouth shut as he stands while the dresser takes measurements of his arm length, shoulder width, and other parts of his body. “Perhaps I can alter some of the princess’s clothing in time with the other seamstresses, you two are not that different in size.”

“But Jimin is a man,” Jungkook reminds gently, “it will be improper for him to wear a woman’s outfit.” “Did you miss the part where I said I can’t make a hanbok in five hours?” the dresser asks testily.

“Could Jimin-mama wear some clothes that the king wore before his coronation?” Jungkook asks as Jimin is placed back onto the seat by the stylist who begins tugging on his hair in a way that he is not familiar with. In only a few moments, the roots of his hair cry out in pain.

The dresser weighs the idea in her head, “Perhaps that will be the best solution given the time frame. I appreciate your quick thinking, Jeon-servant.” With that, the dresser leaves to begin tailoring the king’s old clothes into something that Jimin can wear tonight.

Meanwhile, Jungkook finds a writing utensil and something to write on, laying out the paper on the table before Jimin. Jimin tries to keep up with the fast drawing that the servant makes, many, many circles drawn before him.

Still, with each tug from the stylist’s comb, tears spring to the corners of his eyes. “Dining for royals is quite a lavish affair,” Jungkook explains, “there will be anywhere between ten and twelve dishes presented to you by the servants.”

Jimin feels his head spin at the sheer idea of there being as many as twelve dishes. Behind him, the stylist deems his locks combed well enough that she takes a pair of scissors to the dead ends. “Why are there so many?” Jungkook processes the question for a moment

before he bursts into a hearty laugh at the question. Jimin didn’t mean to be funny though. “So placement of the food is very important. Soups and hot dishes will be placed to your right, while dry foods are placed to your left.

You will be given a soup and rice, along with various side dishes.” Jimin makes an awed noise at the idea of a bowl of fresh rice all for himself. “It is important that you do not pick up any of the dishes with your hands.”

Jimin cocks his head in confusion, “How will I drink the soup?” “You will have a spoon for it,” Jungkook explains, “You also must make sure not to hold your chopsticks and spoon in your hand at the same time.”

“There are a lot of rules,” Jimin laments as the stylist finishes up the cut and begins layering in some sort of fat to hold his hair in place.

“This is just the crash course,” Jungkook reminds, “I somehow get the feeling that if the king has set his sights on you, that you’ll be given quite a bit of leeway in terms of etiquette. Just remember that you will have royal attendants to bring the plates to you

and also to taste and ensure none of the food is poisoned first.” Suddenly it dawns on Jimin why Taehyung and Seokjin were always required to be present from beginning to the end of the royal family’s meals.

Jungkook continues explaining the many different dishes that might be present, depending on whatever the kitchens prepare tonight. Jimin listens with fascination as he learns about all of the different foods that he’ll get to try tonight,

so many different and complex flavors that he has no experience for yet. Eventually, the stylist finishes her work on Jimin’s appearance, Jungkook giving him a hearty onceover before whistling in appreciation. “You look absolutely stunning,” Jungkook says with a thumbs up,

“Once the dresser comes back with the hanbok, I think you’re going to look like a whole new person. The king won’t know what hit him.”

They finish up learning about the meal etiquette and Jimin thinks he might possibly make it through the event with his head still on his shoulders afterwards. While there is still absolute fear in his bones at the idea of dining with the king,

being required to speak directly with him, the excitement of new foods overpowers his apprehension. When the dresser returns about thirty minutes before dinner is ready, she brings in a stunning, blue hanbok that’s been tailored just for him.

Along with her follow two male servants who keep the garment from dragging on the ground. “Alright, your majesty,” the dresser says as she motions to Jimin’s gray, worn servant’s clothes,“these two will dress you for your evening. Please cooperate with them; we don’t have long.”

Jimin is whisked away to the late queen’s changing room where Jungkook assists the two servants in dressing Jimin. He feels strange at the fact that these clothes are intricate enough that he cannot do them himself, but there are so many layers to the outfit

that he welcomes Jungkook’s deft fingers. A few moments before the five o’clock bell chimes throughout the palace grounds, Jimin stands in the most luxurious hanbok he’s ever worn. His hair is freshly clipped and held in a beautiful coif that makes him look both

delicate and masculine. They add a few accessories that enhance Jimin’s appearance as well as giving him a fan to carry. As the servants stand back to appreciate their efforts, Jungkook gives him a large smile, “I think I see now why the king chose you over the princesses.”

Jimin’s hands shake as he makes his way through the royal estate, the fan in his possession rattling noisily. Jungkook takes him to the dining hall where the attendant announces Jimin’s presence to the hall.

Behind him, Jimin feels so many nerves and fears running through him that he can’t stop nausea from bubbling in his stomach. “Allow my guest entrance,” the king’s low voice calls back to Jungkook.

“Good luck!” Jungkook whispers to Jimin as he opens the door for the young man and gently pushes him inside. When the door slams shut behind him, Jimin feels his nerves take him over again, dropping immediately to his knees to bow graciously before the king.

“Your imperial majesty, I humbly present myself for dinner this evening,” Jimin says clearly as he stares hard at the ground. He listens carefully for any sign of the king’s disapproval, but none comes.

“Hurry to your seat,”the king says as Jimin lifts his head and sees that the dining hall is much more intimate tonight, with only a circular table in the center of the room with 2 seats. One is on the east side of the room, where the king sits, and an empty spot on the west side,

“Dinner will be served in any moment.” Jimin scrambles to right himself before he crosses the room to the table. The room itself is open and airy, drawing in the natural light from the outdoors. The size is not so big, but with only two occupants, it does seem a bit oversized.

The wood is painted with beautiful, vibrant colors that are typical of a Joseon palace. He takes the only spot available in the room, which is on the other side of the table from the king.

He averts his eyes, staring at the wooden table before him, listening to the bustling of the servants getting the meal prepped. They are finishing the plating and the presentation of the meal on the other side of the wall that divides the dining room from the prep area.

“Were you treated well today?” Jimin doesn’t look up at the king’s question, but he still has difficulty processing that the king is speaking directly to him in the first place. “I was treated very well,” Jimin says,

questioning his every word if it’s formal enough to be directed at a king. Being sequestered away from anyone worth even a sliver of influence meant that his most formal Korean is still awkward and stilted, “The attendants worked hard today.”

“They made you look even more beautiful than this morning,” the king says. Jimin can feel his eyes on the servant, a lump forming in the back of his throat with the stress of the king’s attention, “Are you a recent hire to the palace? Perhaps the result of the recent coup?”

Jimin shakes his head, fingers toying absentmindedly with the fan in his lap, “I’ve been working here since I was a child.” “How come I’ve never seen you here before then?” the king asks simply.

Jimin’s reply is cut off by the maids and staff entering with the various pieces of food. Jimin feels his mouth drop open of its own accord while they continue to parade out dish after dish. It feels like some sort of fairytale with how the staff continue to bring out

so much food that it certainly will feed an entire army. His eyes widen in extra surprise when he catches sight of Taehyung and Seokjin both bringing in the dishes, their own expressions nothing short of bewildered seeing Jimin sitting at the table.

They must barely recognize him with the new haircut and the fancy clothes because they both give him a quizzical look as if trying to place where they know him from. When they fit the pieces together, they both give Jimin a frantic glance over, taking in his new appearance.

“I hope that these dishes are up to your taste,” the king says as the servants finish up presenting the food. Jimin looks at the multitude of colors and the sensation of smells that waft up from the food. He’s never, in his entire life, experienced such a lavish meal.

He tries to remember the names of each one that Jungkook had described, but the descriptions the servant had given pale in comparison to the real thing. “Your imperial majesty, this morning for breakfast, I had watery tteok porridge with one piece of tteok in it.”

Jimin can feel the way that the king stares at him in surprise, before calling, “Seokjin-nim, please taste the kimchi and the grilled fish for us.” Seokjin does, providing the king with assurance that the dish is not poisoned. “Taehyung-nim, please give Jimin-mama some of each.”

If Jimin had thought that having dinner with the king would be awkward, he hadn’t thought about how strange it would be to have his closest friends watching him while he does. Jimin tries desperately to remember every piece of information that Jungkook had given him

about dining etiquette, but it isn’t too far into the meal before he grabs onto the bowl of soup before him and brings the rim to his lips. There is a soft coughing from either Seokjin or Taehyung, before Jimin realizes the grave mistake that he’s committed.

He bows as best he can at the dining table, considering most of the wood is now covered by white dishes. “I humbly apologize, your imperial majesty, I forgot my manners. Please don’t kill me tonight.”

There’s a momentary pause before the king bursts out laughing, “Jimin-ah,” the king says so intimately that Jimin begins praying to the gods to spare him, “Look at me.” “I can’t, your imperial majesty,” Jimin says, still chanting in his head to please grant him mercy.

“I am giving you permission, right now,” the king says, “both Seokjin-nim and Taehyung-nim are witness.” Jimin’s hands shake in his lap as he lifts his head from his bowing position and takes in the full sight of the king before him.

The king wears his long, blonde hair over his shoulders that are draped in a black hanbok with golden stitching. Gorgeous dragons crawl up and down his clothes, almost luminous enough in the sunlight that they seem to be glowing from the inside.

His eyes watch for Jimin’s reaction as Jimin surveys his face. King Min truly is a one-of-a-kind beauty. He is both ferocious as well as gorgeous. Though he boasts a painful, fearsome looking scar over his eye, his skin is still youthful and vibrant.

His jaw is sharp lines in all the right places, eyes narrowed in a way that makes him look serious. But the gaze that he gives Jimin says nothing but adoration. Jimin’s never had a single soul look at him in such a loving, tender manner before.

It’s a look that has Jimin’s heart fluttering wildly in his chest, despite the fear and embarrassment that flood over him. Jimin hurriedly averts his gaze again or else he risks making a bigger fool of himself.

“Why can’t you hold my gaze?” the king questions curiously. It doesn’t seem accusatory or harsh like Jimin had worried. Jimin bites at his bottom lip as he tries to think of a safe answer. “Jimin-ah.”

“You’re too beautiful to look at, your imperial majesty,” Jimin confesses, “My heart acts strangely.” The king lets out a soft chuckle as he accepts the answer, “Try some of the beef soup.”

For a while, the only talking is the king commanding the servants to give more food to both parties. Jimin has never had such complex flavors before, unable to truly take in everything when his plate continues to be loaded up with endless amounts of food.

“Your imperial majesty,” Jimin says carefully as he looks over the food that is mostly gone, “I don’t know how to properly end a meal. The attendant taught me, but...”

“Look me in the eyes,” the king instructs, Jimin tortuously dragging his gaze up until his eyes are locking with the king’s, “and say ‘Hyung, thank you for the meal.’”

Jimin swallows hard and shakes his head immediately, “I can’t do that! No no no, Jungkook-nim told me there was something I do with my napkin...”

“I want you to do this,” the king requests, “You can do it.” “Thank you for the meal,” Jimin says quietly, feeling as a fierce blush breaks out on his cheeks at repeating the words like a child.

“You missed a word,” the king gently scolds. In his lap, Jimin’s hands tremble as he struggles to repeat the king’s words verbatim. “H-hyung, thank you for the meal.”

“I knew you could do it,” he praises, “As far as retiring for the night goes, we will have to get creative.” Jimin blinks at the king’s lack of explanation. “The only available chambers in the men’s part of the family estate are my father’s old chambers,

but they’re still being cleaned of blood.” Color drains from Jimin’s face at the casual mention of how Yoongi had murdered his father in the dead of night.“So for now, we have arranged for you to stay in my late mother’s room. It’s been two years since she passed of tuberculosis,

so her chambers have had plenty of time to be cleaned. My father’s chambers should be finished by the time we marry.” At the reminder of marriage, Jimin nearly chokes on his own intake of air.

With all of the food, fear, and embarrassment, he’d almost forgotten why he’d been invited to dinner in the first place. “O-oh, that’s great,” Jimin forces, “I bet it’ll be wonderful.”

“If you’d like to be dismissed from the meal, I’m finished myself,” the king says to Seokjin and Taehyung who begin cleaning up the remaining food. “Please call for Jungkook to assist my fiancé to his chambers for the evening.

And tell my sister I will find another suitable servant for her tomorrow,” he says to Taehyung who nods and quickly dashes off to relay the message. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” he asks Jimin.

Jimin nods vigorously, though trying to remain as poised and elegant as possible for a low-class servant, “It was all very delicious.” “And the company for the evening?”

“Very kind,” he admits, almost wondering how such a man could be so incredibly fearsome while also being such a gracious host. Surely, there was something that Jimin just happened to be missing in his interactions with the king.

“I trust that I will see you again for breakfast tomorrow? I believe my sister will be there as well. You can introduce yourself to her,” the king proposes, “She will enjoy having company other than just myself for a change.” Jimin nods as a knock comes at the door,

likely Jungkook now that Taehyung has returned to help with clearing the rest of the meal away, “I look forward to meeting with Princess Yoonji tomorrow morning.” Jimin gives a gracious, full bow as he rises from the table and makes his way to the door. “Ah,”

the king says as a thought suddenly pops into his head, “When you meet with Yoonji, it’s probably better to call me hyungnim instead. But when we’re alone, you can just say hyung.” “Please sleep well tonight, your imperial majesty,” Jimin says with a bow as he makes his exit.

“Again,” the king requests, Jimin sucking air in through his nose at being called out so blatantly. “Please sleep well tonight, hyung,” he tries again. “You as well, Jimin-ah.”

After leaving from the dining hall, feeling like he’s eaten enough to last him a lifetime, Jungkook helps him ready the bedchambers for the night. He gives him a fresh set of sleepwear for the evening, informing Jimin that the seamstresses are working tirelessly

to procure him a new wardrobe as quickly as possible. Pulling on the crisp, navy clothes still feels strange, even though they are simpler and Jimin can easily dress himself with them. He lays down in the queen’s bed that's been fitted with freshly laundered blankets and sheets,

a task that the servants took care of with frightening speed. Jimin is no stranger to palace duties, nor the workings of the servants. When Jungkook informs him of the recently cleaned linens, the new clothes that are being sewn for him,

the manual labor that the staff had to do in order to ready the bedchambers, Jimin feels guilt. Literally this morning, he’d been woken before dawn to ready himself for a busy day ahead. Until noon, he’d been running frivolous errands for a princess who didn’t care

what effort he took as long as he suffered while he did it. To think that the servants now run themselves ragged because of him has Jimin feeling sinful.

“Jungkook-nim,” Jimin says as the lower servants rush around him to prepare the bedchambers with fresh water to clean his face before sleep, “Please don’t make everyone work so hard on my behalf.”

“Don’t fret, Jimin-mama,” Jungkook assures as the servants finish up preparing the chambers for Jimin to sleep, “We are all skilled at our work. It’s no trouble at all.” Jimin purses his lips and frowns,

knowing that the attendant is only saying such things because otherwise they’ll all get in trouble with their supervisor. “Tomorrow morning, I will bring your daybreak meal when the sun rises, before preparing you for breakfast with the king. Please sleep well tonight.”

Jimin bids his attendant goodnight, hoping that Jungkook will hurry to rest himself. If the attendant plans to be present for daybreak meal, then that will mean he’ll be up even earlier than Jimin. In the pitch black of Jimin’s new bed, he tosses and turns,

but sleep fails to come to him again for the 2nd night in a row. He would have assumed that after such a long, vigorous day, he’d have fallen right asleep upon laying down in the plushest, most comfortable bed he’s ever experienced. Yet, his mind won’t slow down in the slightest.

There’s something strange about the way that the king acts towards him, far too affectionate for barely knowing Jimin. While Jimin has always known the family that he serves and the reason for his constant efforts,

the king had been blissfully unaware of his position in the palace. Jimin replays the events from the day over and over in his head, listening as the crickets continue to chirp outside.

Why had his heart galloped like it had while he looked at the king’s face? Eventually, as the last bell tolls for the night across the palace grounds, Jimin finally feels sleep pull him under.

In the morning, Jimin is woken from slumber by Jungkook setting up his breakfast in the antechamber to the bedroom. At first, he wakes with a start, jolting upright in bed as he worries that he must have overslept for his duties when he finally takes in the room before him.

Now that the beginnings of dawn are seeping in through the cracks in the windows, Jimin can get a better view of the luxurious room that has become his bedroom. The furnishings are sparse, just a chest of drawers, a low desk, and a bed on opposite walls.

However, there is also a giant privacy screen behind his bed that is painted with the most beautiful artistic rendition of a dragon reaching across the sky, with various deities from folklore woven into the canvas.

“Jimin-mama,” Jungkook says on the other side of the paper wall, “I have brought you your daybreak meal.” “Thank you,” he calls back as he removes the blankets from himself, forgetting how luxurious his sleepwear had been until he’s staring at it again.

The way that it hugs his body so comfortably has him running his hand down the arm just a few times. Jimin hurriedly makes his bed before finding a long robe that has been left on the corner of the drawers, likely for him to use for some semblance of decency.

Jimin exits to the antechamber where Jungkook has set up his daybreak meal. Though it’s considered a light meal to simply wake one up from sleep, it has two separate bowls and a plate of delicious kimchi. “What are these?” Jimin asks as he evaluates the dishes before him,

but with Jungkook near, he doesn’t feel shame at being uneducated about the food. “This is rice porridge that has been simmering with the leftover beef from your dinner last night,” Jungkook explains as he points to the bowl of thick porridge before pointing at the thin soup

next to it,“This is a soup made from soy paste that is meant to help rejuvenate the blood.” Jimin nods in understanding as he reaches for the soup spoon, only for Jungkook to make a concerned noise in response.“I need to taste them for you first, to ensure they are not poisoned.”

Jimin nods as he allows the attendant to give all three dishes a pass. He eats with amazement at how flavorful even the most basic meal of the day is. “Jungkook-nim, will you eat with me?” “I already ate tteok-guk this morning, your highness,” Jungkook says.

“But I won’t finish it,” Jimin pouts before Jungkook relents and takes a small bit of kimchi. The two share the light meal before all of the food is gone. “How old are you, Jungkook-nim?”

“I am twenty-two,” the attendant says as he cleans up after the meal while Jimin watches helplessly. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or how he’s supposed to pass his days without Misoo barking orders at him like he’s a street urchin.

“You’re my dongsaeng!” Jimin says giddily, “I’m twenty-four years old, so can we speak informally?” Jungkook looks apprehensive. “Jimin-mama, you’re in a very different social class than me now,” he warns as he cleans off the table the two had used for daybreak meal

and piles the dishes near the doorway to the late queen’s building, “should anyone catch wind of me speaking informally to you... Well, I think losing my job would be the least of my worries.”

Jimin takes in a big breath as he realizes that Jungkook is indeed correct.“Well, we’re alone for now, right?” After the lower servants come to take the dishes away from the queen’s house, the same two male servants enter his chambers and whisk him away to the dressing chambers.

“The seamstresses worked throughout the night to create this hanbok for you,” Jungkook says as he helps Jimin into the outfit, “so if there are any parts you’d like altered after trying it on, just say the word. They’re your clothes now.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to have more than one set of clothes,” Jimin says in amazement as the servants tug the white shirt and dusty pink jacket on, “I feel like I’m in a dream.”

“Well, you have to be at breakfast in an hour,” Jungkook says as the servants finish tying Jimin into his clothes before dismissing themselves, “so the stylist will be here to comb your hair any minute. After that, you’re going to be meeting with the king and the royal princess.”

The mention of the royal princess has all of Jimin’s fantasies fizzling away, stress and anxiety flowing back to him. While he had a somewhat strange interpretation of how the king himself viewed him, it wasn’t a secret that the royal princess was much more traditional and chaste

than her brother. “I forgot about Royal Princess Yoonji,” Jimin says as he covers his face in worry, “Wait, weren’t you her personal attendant before? Is she going to hate me for taking you away from her?”

Jungkook’s lips twitch into an amused smile as he tries not to laugh at Jimin’s fretting, “Please don’t worry, your majesty, Princess Yoonji revers her brother’s opinion quite highly. If anything, she’ll probably be incredibly interested in what about you

caught the king’s eye in the first place.” A knock at the door to the queen’s house has Jungkook hurrying out of the dressing room and to the antechamber where he greets the stylist who sets out her tools. “Do I have to worry about losing my head after breakfast today?”

Jimin asks as he takes a seat on the same floor cushion as yesterday. This time, Jungkook does laugh at Jimin’s worries, “There will be no beheadings today.” “Probably.”

Jimin is given a once over by Jungkook who deems his look acceptable for the day. Instead of such a stiff, polished look as yesterday, the stylist opted for a natural style today. His hair is parted in the middle, his clothes subtle, and not adorned with any flashy accessories.

The two make their way towards the royal dining hall again where breakfast is being served. Jungkook announces Jimin’s presence and it’s barely a moment later before he’s being granted entrance. Again, Jimin hurriedly drops to his knees in a low bow in front of the king

before he’s being dismissed to his seat. “I requested for you to stop being so formal with me,” the king reminds, voice a bit harsher than it had been last night but still fond.

Jimin gives an understanding nod just as another knock comes at the door. “Presenting her imperial majesty, Royal Princess Yoonji.” “She may enter,” the king calls back. Jimin holds his breath as the door opens to the dining hall revealing the most beautiful woman

he’s ever seen in his entire life. He’s left speechless at how beautiful she looks in a regal pink hanbok with a bright green jacket, her hair adorned with numerous jewels and ornaments. Along her neck is a gorgeous necklace full of gems, matching the ones that stud her ears.

She looks almost like an exact replica of the king himself, only with long black hair instead of blonde. She gives a polite bow to the king, but does not drape herself on the floor like Jimin had done.

“Orabeoni!” she whines as she makes her way to the last place that has been set up for the dining guests, “Why did you take my best attendant last night? The other attendants aren’t as good at tasting my daybreak meal for me.”

The king rolls his eyes at his younger sister’s whining, “You just wanted to ogle his face some more, I know.” Yoonji looks shocked at the accusation, “You know that’s not true!”

The way her cheeks turn a shade of deep red says otherwise though. Jimin stares in amazement at the way the princess acts, almost childlike in a way, despite being already seventeen years old and of marriageable age.

And he’d been under the impression that she was the utmost pinnacle of female virtue. “Is this the one that you took my Jungkookie away for? I heard a lot of commotion yesterday between all of the staff.”

The king gives Yoonji a sharp look out of the corner of his eye before he demands, “Which staff? Do you know their names? Their titles?” Despite how fearsome the king looks at his sister, the young woman just laughs lightly, “Of course not. I just thought you should know

your staff have loose lips.” She shrugs her shoulders so casually that it seems as though she enjoys knowing it’ll likely drive the king mad. “So tell me all about your new betrothed, I must say, they are much more masculine than I expected.”

“This is Park Jimin,” the king introduces, Jimin perking up in immediate surprise at the new name attached to him, “He was aiding Princess Dahee yesterday when I saw him. We will be wed in about two weeks.” The king gives a strong introduction with enough seriousness to the words

that there is no room for questioning. “Oh yeah,” Princess Yoonji says dismissively as the servants begin bringing out the food, Seokjin and Taehyung giving Jimin smiles upon seeing him again this morning, “I had dinner with those princesses yesterday.”

She rolls her eyes in a dramatic way that has the king raising an eyebrow in question. “They’re just not good women. Just no. You’re lucky you’re not marrying any of them.” “Well I appreciate the blessing,” the king says sarcastically before turning to Jimin,

“Jimin-nim, today I have arranged for you to meet with a few revered members of the staff. You’ll meet with Minister Jung Hoseok to go over your genealogy before you’ll meet with Minister Kim Namjoon who will introduce you to your new teachers.”

Jimin feels his head fill with questions at what the king is talking about. He remembers Hoseok being quite a friendly minister, though his franticness yesterday had been quite stressful. But he knows better than to question the king on any of his decisions.

“I understand, your imperial majesty.” Instead, Jimin watches as Yoonji gracefully catches Seokjin’s eye before pointing subtly with her eyes at the dishes she wishes to eat. Tentatively,he tests the same method out with Taehyung, who seems to respond quite naturally to the cue.

Perhaps dining with the princess could be a learning experience in itself for Jimin. “So, Jimin-mama,” the princess says once her personal plate is filled with food for her breakfast, “Tell me a little bit about yourself. Growing up? Your life goals? Anything juicy?”

Jimin swallows a piece of fish down hard, wondering if he’s accidentally swallowed a bone. “I am just a humble-” “Yoonji-ya, you’re too noisy this morning,” the king barks, “Let my fiancé eat in peace.”

After breakfast, Jimin is greeted by the smiling face of Jungkook once again outside of the dining hall. “What do you do while we’re eating?” Jimin asks as they walk leisurely along the outer rim of the pond that separates the royal family’s estate

from the government buildings. Jimin knows that they are on their way to the building where the ministers work, but there doesn’t seem to be any hurry. Compared to the last time he’d been dashing around this pond, it’s a welcome change.

“We eat as well,” Jungkook informs as a fish leaps out of the water, perhaps to catch a fly in its mouth, before landing back in the water with a loud splash. When given the time to actually enjoy the nature that the palace has, it’s quite a peaceful place.

“Of course, our breakfast is just more porridge, some fish, and some kimchi if there’s any to spare from last night’s dinner.”

Jimin frowns at that, but it is a step up from his own meager meals as a low-class servant. Watery porridge and bland kimchi still not fermented enough to sour properly were his fare. “Where are we going?”

“Well, Jung-minister said that he was going to meet us just on the other side of the pond when he’s finished with his first meeting of the day, but I have yet to see him. So for now, we can just enjoy the beauty of nature,” Jungkook says with a comforting smile.

Even though Jimin still feels quiet uneased with his sudden thrust into a new position in the palace, having someone with a friendly face is making that more palatable.

Another minute passes where a bird crows overhead as it flies over the palace grounds on its way to some new destination. Jimin wonders what it would be like to leave the palace. “Do you know Jung-minister well?” Jimin asks as they find a bench to sit in front of the pond,

admiring the soft breeze that blows over the water. “I guess?” Jungkook says unconvincingly, “Jung-minister and Kim-minister were my close friends growing up. Our fathers were all friends since they studied at Sungkyunkwan together for their civil servant examinations.”

Jimin nods, but something nags at the corner of his brain. “I see. So Jung-minister and Kim-minister must have continued their father’s legacy to study for examinations too?”

“Yes, they both used their fathers’ wealth to fund their own education. It’s how they became ministers at such young ages,” Jungkook explains. Still that nagging rings in the back of Jimin’s head, curiosity on the tip of his tongue when the attendant continues,

“I am not eligible to take the civil servant examination as I am the son of my father’s concubine.” Jimin takes a sharp breath in at the answer to his burning question. He feels shame at pressing the matter now that he knows the truth.

“I don’t remember my parents,” Jimin admits, feeling like he ought to share about his own past now that he’s put Jungkook on the spot, “I was sold to the palace when I was about six years old.”

“Jungkook-ah! Jimin-mama!” a voice calls from the inner wall that surrounds all of the government buildings, the sight of the minister emerging from the doorway, “Come over here!”

The tense mood is broken as the two make their way over to Hoseok, whose jaw drops open at the sight of Jimin. “You look completely different! It’s like you’ve been reborn or something!” From Jimin’s first impression yesterday, he’d thought of Hoseok as a frantic, strict man.

Seeing the way he so readily compliments Jimin, including motioning for Jimin to circle and show his full outfit, says otherwise. “The servants worked hard,” Jimin explains, “Jungkook-nim in particular.”

“Woah,” Hoseok says with a giant smile that puts Jimin’s heart at immediate ease, “Jungkook-nim, so fancy.” “Yah,” Jungkook says with a soft dusting of pink on his cheeks at the tease.

“It’s better than having Princess Yoonji calling you Jungkookie and bunny and her star and stuff, isn’t it?” the minister continues teasing until Jungkook is turning fully red, “Well, I’ll take care of Jimin-mama for the next few hours, go relax a bit, Kook-ah.”

Jungkook gives a militaristic salute before he heads back towards the royal estate, likely where his attendant quarters are. “Are you ready to meet your new family, Jimin-mama? Or should I say, Park Jimin-mama?” Jimin is brought to Hoseok's office,

which is a small building on the west side of the palace. It’s not a particularly big room,but it is a detached structure to show how exclusive it is. On their way to the building, Hoseok points out Namjoon’s office of similar nature just on the other side of the small courtyard.

The two walk with their feet digging into the gravel before they reach the stone steps. It’s only three steps up, but the height of each is almost to Jimin’s kneecap, giving a decent vantage at the top. Hoseok opens the door to show an office that’s got a large desk with

many ledgers open, a large bookcase behind the desk with his official records. The floors are wooden, similar in construction to the floors in the royal estate, but not nearly as nice. The ceiling is high enough to walk comfortably around, but low enough to not feel overbearing.

Hoseok gives Jimin a cushion to sit on in front of the desk where a genealogy book lays open. Jimin stares at it, not quite sure what exactly he’s looking at. As a member of the lowest class in Joseon above slaves, his family was never blessed with such a book.

Only members of the highest class kept these kinds of records, to ensure that things such as property, assets, and status were given to the right people in the family. Jimin never had to even think about such a thing.

The highest honor that having a genealogy book bestowed though, was the coveted family name that was attached to one’s personal name. Being able to introduce oneself as part of a clan, with proof to reinforce the claim, was power in itself.

Despite looking at the book, Jimin realizes as he stares at the black ink on the paper that he does not know what a single character means. “This is the Park clan book,” Hoseok says as he points at a symbol that must read Park,

but Jimin cannot tell for sure, “It lists the entire family’s lineage since the beginning of their record keeping, back in 1486 when Park Gyungho passed the civil servant examination and lifted the family to the status of upper class.

Since then, the family has passed this book down to each eldest son who has continued to keep the record.”

“Okay,” Jimin says, following what Hoseok is saying, but unsure what any of it really means, “That’s cool?” “Our imperial majesty mentioned that he’d like you to be placed in this family tree, so we have done so,” Hoseok says as he points at a blank spot,

“but to actually write it in, we need to create a hanja name for you. We cannot write your name in only hangul.” “I don’t know any hanja or hangul,” Jimin says worriedly, eyebrows knitting in distress, “I can’t read or write anything.”

Hoseok laughs at Jimin’s predicament, “Well that’s why I’m here to help you. I’m going to write out some possible hanja combinations, tell you what they stand for, and you pick the one you like.” “Is this how it normally works?” Jimin asks incredulously.

Again, Hoseok laughs, though Jimin didn’t mean it to be a joke. “Parents of yangban children usually hire an esteemed fortune teller to craft their child’s name for them, along with the hanja reading.

Most people, including myself, Namjoon, and Jungkook, didn’t get to choose our hanja readings.” “Can you show me yours 1st?” Jimin asks. He watches with wide eyes as Hoseok picks up a brush and dips the tip in ink, before writing out the most beautiful characters he’s ever seen.

“It’s gorgeous! What does it mean?” Hoseok points at the first character which turns out to be his clan name, before continuing to his given name. “It means that I am someone whose truth and wisdom will be proclaimed to the world.

Or at least that’s what the fortune teller told my parents. Are you ready to see some hanja for your name?” Jimin nods enthusiastically.

The minister flips through a few books from the bookshelf behind him while he compiles the possible names for Jimin. Each one that he writes out looks like a beautiful picture in itself, Jimin getting lost in the way that each character has such a unique aspect.

The sheer idea that Hoseok can read and reproduce so many, so perfectly, has him in awe of the minister. They’ve come up with five different combinations with various meanings before he asks Jimin which he’d like to adopt as his name.

Jimin looks between all five, trying to decide which meaning he liked the best along with the overall shape and feel of the name. After a few moments of deliberation, Jimin finally settles on the fourth one.

“I think this one is the nicest, it means like wisdom and the autumn sky right?” Hoseok nods. “I always get my birthday meal in the autumn, so I think it fits me.”

“Your birthday is in the autumn?” Hoseok confirms, “That’s fitting. The person in this record was born during the eighth month on the 19th day**, which seems to fit with your actual birth.” **October 13th in the lunar calendar from 1995.

“What happened to this person that I’m replacing in the genealogy book?” Jimin asks innocently. Hoseok smiles wide, “Don’t worry about it.” After Hoseok finishes writing in the information with Jimin’s new hanja name, he rises from the desk.

“We now have to return this genealogy book to its rightful owner, I think it’ll be easy to convince him to take it.” The minister dashes outside before he brings in a young boy, of perhaps ten or eleven years old, “Park Jimin, meet Park Jihyun.

He’s the highest ranking member of your new family.” The boy gives a bow to Jimin, which feels even more confusing than before. He is apparently the highest member of the clan, but is significantly younger than Jimin? “Jung-minister, I don’t understand...”

“Your boys’ father, praise be to his recently departed spirit at the hands of our imperial majesty, was a member of late king’s councilors. You are the eldest son of the late Park Wooji and his second wife. Your younger brother here is the first and only son

of Park Wooji and his first wife, leaving him as the head of your family clan. You do, however, have three older sisters now too, but they’re already married to different village leaders,” Hoseok explains as though it’s a common and easily understood occurrence,

before he turns to the young boy, “Now, Jihyun-ah, if I give you some of those honey cookies you like so much, you’ll take this home and put it right back where it was, right? No telling your mother?”

Jihyun nods as he takes the book into his arms and holds open a palm for the bag of yakwa that Hoseok deposits into his hand. “You got it, Minister-uncle! Bye bye, new Jimin-hyung! Remember to send us some sweets at Chuseok!”

Jimin watches with an open mouth as Jihyun dashes out of the office and Hoseok closes the door behind him. “He’s a good kid,” Hoseok says as Jimin blinks in pure disbelief at the situation.

Jimin is given a proper explanation of his new family’s history, including his “parents’” positions in society, his sibling’s information, and how to properly introduce himself. “Try one more time,” Hoseok says as he looks over Jimin with a sharp eye, watching.

Jimin drops to the floor, hands pressed carefully in front of him, making sure to keep his fingers pressed tight together in a way that makes him look sophisticated. He forms a perfect triangle with the gap between his hands, having been coached on the proper way to bow

fit for a royal, before he rises. “My humble name is Park Jimin, the first son of the honorable Park Wooji and the venerable Lady Soheon of the Miryang clan. On the 25th day of the 3rd month, I will marry our revered holiness, King Min of the imperial Yeoheung Min clan.”

It feels so stiff and formal that Jimin feels like he’s swallowed a mouth full of cotton every time he recites the words. Hoseok assures him it will get easier with time.

“It’s good for it being your first day of using the titles,” Hoseok agrees as he motions for Jimin to rise from his kneeling position on the floor, “When you actually marry the king, we’ll have to change that second line.” Jimin nods as the minister leads him out the door

and down the steep steps towards the gravel of the courtyard. “We don’t have time now to iron out those details, Namjoon is expecting you.”

Jimin is about to ask what exactly he’ll be doing with Namjoon when the two look across the ministers’ courtyard and see Namjoon standing in front of his office. “Welcome, Jimin-mama,” Namjoon says

with a low, deep bow as Hoseok slips him a piece of paper before leaving back for his own office, “We have much to do today.”

Namjoon brings Jimin into his office, which is almost an exact mirror of Hoseok’s office. It has the same three giant steps leading up to the building, a low desk in the center of the office, and large bookcases full of so many different books it makes Jimin’s eyes blur.

“What are we going to do today?” Jimin asks as Namjoon shuts the door behind him, leaving the thin paper screen open to let only the light in. There is an open scroll on the desk, along with a small brush and a pot of ink.

“Today, you’re going to begin your journey to truly joining the noble class; you’re going to learn to read and write,” Namjoon says as he motions to the scroll and the ink on the table. “I’m going to learn hangul?” Jimin asks as he looks at the blank parchment,

amazed at the fact that such a mundane thing as scrolls and books could finally become something he’s able to understand. For his entire life, seeing the scribbles on paper had just been some sort of complex puzzle, a picture he’d never thought he could decipher.

Namjoon laughs at Jimin’s question, “Any man worth his status in Joseon knows how to read and write in Hanja.” “But I thought King Sejong the Great created hangul?” Jimin asks, confused as to what the difference really was.

He’d never been educated in either, both of them looking like the same kind of pretty picture to his untrained eye.

Namjoon nods kindly at Jimin’s question. “You’re correct,” he praises encouragingly, feeling very teacher-like at the moment, “but to protect the status of the nobility, any legal document will be written exclusively in hanja.

Ministers and Councilors will complete their entire workday using only hanja; knowing how to write in hangul only so that they can read the documents from King Sejong’s time. These days, hangul is only used by women and children.”

Jimin frowns at the explanation. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised by the reality; typically, those in power wanted to stay in power. It was why servants had been divided the way that they had;

why Jimin had never even met Jungkook before yesterday despite being a servant in the palace for many years. “Can I even learn hanja?” “Of course you can,” Namjoon says with a soft smile, “Let’s start with something easy; your name.”

Namjoon unfurls the piece of paper that Hoseok had given him with Jimin’s name on it, “Let’s start with this character, 朴, which means Park.”

Together with Namjoon, Jimin spends the rest of the afternoon learning how to read and write his very first characters. Once Jimin has his name mostly memorized, they move onto learning more basic characters that are important for use in daily life.

As the afternoon passes, the sun slowly moves from east to west. A bell rings far off in the corner of the palace, signaling that another hour has passed. Only moments after that, there’s a knock at the door to Namjoon’s office.

“Hey hyung,” Jungkook says in greeting to the minister, before he gives Jimin a deep bow, “Good afternoon, Jimin-mama. I’ve come to collect you for dinner. It’ll be served in an hour.”

The attendant moves in towards the desk, peering over Jimin’s shoulder and asking, “Is that your name? It looks really great!”

Jimin beams at the compliment, nodding enthusiastically, “Yeah! Jung-minister helped me pick out the characters and Kim-minister taught me how to write them.” “I told you, Jimin-mama, you can just call me hyung,” Namjoon reminds, Jimin having forgotten in his excitement,

“He’s a quick learner.” Jimin stands up from his spot at the desk, not having realized just how hunched over he’d been. His shoulders are sore from such a long day bent over the paper, trying to make his brush strokes look as confident and beautiful as Namjoon’s.

However, his still look like a child’s writing, long and limp. “Well, I’m afraid I have to take him to get ready for dinner, the king is expecting him,” Jungkook says as Jimin sets the brush down, noting that his sleeve has quite a significant ink stain on it he hadn’t noticed,

“Let’s see if we can wash out that stain before dinner.” Jungkook, along with help from the other male servants, manage to clean the jeogori so that Jimin can wear it to dinner with the king. Again, the affair is simply Jimin and the king, along with Seokjin and Taehyung

who help the two with their meals. “After dinner, I’d like to take a walk with you in the courtyards,” the king announces about halfway through the meal. “O-Of course,” Jimin agrees, not really able to decline such an invitation from the king himself.

After such a long, exhausting day with the two ministers, he’d been expecting to retire to his chambers and rest properly. Instead, he’s being called to the whims of the king, “A walk sounds lovely.”

“The days are growing long again as spring is coming,” the king notes as he takes a spoonful of soup, “The preparations for the wedding are coming along nicely.” “That’s wonderful news,” Jimin says, but he’s not sure how to continue the conversation.

He has no idea what the preparations are, or what he needs to do for the wedding. “I trust that Jungkook-nim will help prepare me for the wedding?” The king gives Jimin a nod, but does not further elaborate. The conversation ends there.

For the rest of the meal, Jimin feels awkward. He only speaks when spoken to, but he doesn’t quite know what say in order to keep conversations going. He know little to nothing about the palace life for those who actually hold power,

can’t weigh in on any sort of political discussion, can barely understand what the king is even saying in the first place. That doesn’t seem to be much of a deterrent for the king though, who seems to be happy enough to ogle Jimin as freely as he wants.

By the time that the two have finished eating, the sun has fully set, but leaves enough pinks and oranges splashed across the skies for one to easily move around. The king stands up first, before motioning for Jimin to follow him. Jimin scrambles to his feet to follow diligently.

The king marches across the gravel pathway out of the gate that separates the royal estate from the courtyards where there are few people walking along the paths. A quick glance at the king in his regal attire, black hanbok with intricate stitchings of dragons into his clothes,

and everyone else seems to vanish from the courtyards. As is expected for the king of all Joseon, the courtyards are the most beautiful and largest in the entire country. They stretch up into the mountains,

almost seeming like they might reach the peak with how long the path looks. Slowly, the king strolls along the dirt road with Jimin at his side, the sound of rocks crunching beneath their feet.

“Now that we are alone,” the king says, gaze looking at Jimin out of the corner of his eyes “Tell me honestly, how have the last two days been?” Jimin clasps his hands behind his back to try and remain poised in front of the king. “It’s a lot,” Jimin admits,

“There’s so much to learn.” The king nods in understanding as he leisurely walks along the path, listening to the way that the birds call above or the wind blow across the treetops. “What did you learn today?” the king asks.

Jimin relays all of the various characters he learned with Namjoon, almost forgetting that he is speaking to the most powerful man in all of Joseon. The entire time that Jimin talks, the king has a fond smile on his lips, watching as Jimin traces his name on his palm

for the king to watch. Slowly, it’s becoming easier for Jimin to feel comfortable looking at the king’s face directly, though he still feels his heart gallop strangely when he catches the king’s endeared expression. “You look gorgeous tonight, I must say,” he admits.

Jimin feels a blush rise to his cheeks at the compliment. “I think you will be the perfect king consort for Joseon.” “Your imperial majesty,” Jimin asks, waiting for the king to acknowledge his request to speak. “Try again,” he instructs, only for Jimin to realize his mistake.

They were, indeed, alone right now. “Hyung,” Jimin says, the king giving a nod in approval at the change, “Can I ask you honestly: Why me?” The king stops in his tracks, turning his body to face Jimin directly. They are about the same height,

but something about the way that the king carries himself makes him seem so much larger than Jimin. “Because I wanted you.” Jimin’s gaze shoots up to the king’s, blinking in confusion, “But, but I am just a servant, how could you want me?”

“Jimin-ah, I slit my own father’s throat to take the throne from him with my bare hands. Do you think I am afraid to take what I truly want?” Jimin shakes his head timidly as the king continues with a low undercurrent of venom in his voice,

“I wanted you, so I made it happen, laws be damned. Tell me, my little peony, what do you think the queen of Joseon does, hmm?”

The gears slowly work in Jimin’s head as he tries to verbalize what a queen ought to do for her country. The way that the king stares hungrily at him has his mouth running dry.

“The queen ought to fully support the king in his rulings of Joseon, expand and enhance the king’s reign with the common peoples, and to bear him a son so that his bloodline may continue for generations to come,” Jimin says after a long moment of pause.

The king scoffs softly at the answer, taking two steps forward into Jimin’s space, making his heart race wildly in his chest. The king is so close that Jimin can even smell the vague scent from his soap this morning’s wash.

“The queen of Joseon /ought/ to relieve the king’s stress by spending long, passionate nights in his bedchambers, giving him unimaginable pleasure for hours on end. She must also look like the most gorgeous woman on his arm in front of the council so that everyone knows

her husband is the most powerful man in the land,” the king corrects, “those are both duties you should be able to complete quite easily as a king consort. Certainly much better than any of the other princesses presented to me.” Jimin feels a burst of fire explode on his cheeks

at the intimate description, “I-I don’t know how to perform such tasks, your imperial majesty.” “I am a very patient teacher,” the king promises, his voice so close that Jimin can feel the king’s breath hitting the shell of his ear,

“and I’ve heard from Kim-minister that you are quite an eager student. By the time that our wedding night is finished, you won’t call me ‘your imperial majesty’ ever again.”

For two days, life doesn’t change much. In the morning, Jimin is woken up by Jungkook bringing him his daybreak meal, he spends the early part of the morning getting ready with the help of his servants.

In the mid-morning, he heads to breakfast with the king and Princess Yoonji, who has quickly become enamored with him. On the second day of meeting her, she already calls him ‘orabeoni’ like they’ve been friends forever.

Even though he doesn’t know the slightest about the young princess, her excitement and bubbliness are still warm welcomes every time he comes for breakfast.

In the early afternoon, he meets with Hoseok to go over details about his family lineage and learning about how to endure royal life and not give away the fact that he’d been a low-class peasant only a week ago.

In the late afternoons, he’s taught by Namjoon the basics of reading and writing, who teaches him both hangul and hanja. On the third day of lessons with Namjoon, Jimin is given a small booklet that he looks at quizzically. “What is it?”

“Homework,” Namjoon says with a smile, laughing softly to himself when Jimin looks blankly at him, “This is how students continue studying when they’re not with their teachers.

Inside, I wrote some of our hanja that we learned today, and you’ll practice copying them on the lines next to them. Then, there’s a small reading passage at the bottom that you can practice reading.”

“What if I forget what the character means?” Jimin asks as he flips open the first page and indeed finds a page with some hanja running down the left side and wide open space on the right for Jimin’s practice.

Namjoon ushers him out the door, otherwise he’ll be late for dinner, “Ask Jungkook. These are simple characters; he can help you.”

For the rest of the evening after dinner, he spends working on homework, frustrated at the fact that he’s not making his characters look as beautiful as he’d like. “Hey, think about it this way. You couldn’t write any of these characters just a few days ago,” Jungkook encourages

as he watches Jimin dip his brush into the ink and try the character for flower once again, “You’re working really hard. It’ll pay off once you read your first poem all by yourself.”

After three days, Jimin almost feels like he’s settling into a routine. That is, until one morning at breakfast when the king makes the offhanded comment, “Jimin-ah, you better eat extra today.” Jimin looks up from his silver spoon that he’s sipping doenjang guk from, “Why?”

“You’re starting training today,” the king responds, “You’ll need to listen very careful to Hoseok; I don’t want you marring your beautiful face.” Before Jimin can even ask a question, Yoonji sticks her tongue out,

“Gross orabeoni, I’m eating here. Go be all lovey-dovey by yourselves.” “What training?” Jimin asks after the king shushes his little sister, “Like for the wedding?”

The king looks up, catching Jimin’s eye in a way that doesn’t have Jimin flinching like it had only a few days ago. “Sword training, you need to learn to fight.” “I what?” Jimin balks, blinking in pure shock. The king looks slightly annoyed at Jimin’s confusion,

sighing heavily in a dramatic way, “I have many enemies. By becoming my husband, you will inherit many enemies as well. I refuse to let them risk your life by not allowing you to learn how to wield a sword.”

“You know, Jimin-ah,” the king says with narrowed eyes as he motions for Seokjin to give him some more of the grilled fish from the table, “I don’t like people who question my decisions.” A shiver runs up Jimin’s spine at the tone,

the serious voice that many, many people have lost their lives after hearing. “I value your safety and only want to ensure that you will be able to protect yourself should you need. Now, do you wish to repeat yourself once again?”

Jimin swallows hard as he averts his gaze back down to the rice bowl in front of him, “No, your imperial majesty.” This time, the king does not correct him on the title.

To say that Jimin is bad at wielding a sword is an understatement. The first time that Hoseok hands him the wooden sword to practice his grip, he nearly topples over at the weight of it in his hand. The ease with which soldiers drew their weapons always made it seem weightless.

It seems that was just proof of their naturalness with the blade. “Why am I even required to learn this anyways?” Jimin asks Hoseok when they’re out on the royal training grounds, sweat beading along Jimin’s hairline from the physical exertion,

“I thought that this is what the guards are supposed to do.” Hoseok hands him a small cup of water, which he drinks eagerly. “You really don’t know why the king is so adamant about you learning how to defend yourself?”

Jimin tosses the sword into the dirt as he catches his breath, “’Cause of some other royal thing that I don’t know about?” “He knows how easily guards are paid off because he’s the one who paid off his father’s concubines’ guards,” Hoseok says,

“He promised them enough gold to drown in if they killed every one of his father’s concubines. And you can see how well that plan worked out.”

Jimin’s eyes widen as the information sinks in. Working in the most laborious parts of the palace meant that he rarely got any of the good gossip from the royal servants,but he had heard that the guards had been the ones to take care of the concubines of the king during the coup.

He simply hadn’t realized that they’d been bribed into doing so by the crown prince. “Oh,” Jimin breathes out as he takes another look at the wooden sword in front of him. Of course, the king would know the exact measures one would take when usurping the crown;

and he’d take every step he could to prevent it from happening. “Yeah,” Hoseok says heavily, “The king doesn’t want you to learn anything intricate, he just wants you to be able to protect yourself. If it makes you feel any better, he made Yoonji learn too.

Watching the princess do all of this while wearing her skirts was quite entertaining.” Jimin cracks a smile at the idea of the princess holding this same wooden sword, imagining how much she would complain about having to learn something so unladylike.

“But, I really thought my ears were going to fall off while training her.” Three more days continue where Jimin replaces etiquette training with sword training. It eventually has been an entire week since Jimin moved from the low-class servant quarters to his new chambers.

With his new sword training taking up most of his physical energy throughout the day and learning to read and write with Namjoon taking all of his mental energy, Jimin is exhausted at the end of each day.

He’s getting more familiar with the king as they continue to eat meals together, but rarely do they ever get time together otherwise. “Your imperial majesty,” Jimin says one evening when it’s just the two of them at dinner, along with Seokjin and Taehyung who wait on the sides.

The king however does not look up at Jimin’s request. “Your imperial majesty?” he tries again, but the king still doesn’t look at him. He takes in a big breath before sighing, “Hyung?”

“Yes, Jimin-ah?” the king answers immediately, nearly making Jimin roll his eyes if he didn’t think doing so would warrant the king’s anger. “When will I be informed about our wedding?” he asks, hoping that such an innocent question won’t spur the wrath of the king,

“I don’t know what I need to do or what the steps are to be taken during the ceremony.” “Ah, yes,” the king says, “I’ll have to add that to Hoseok’s list of trainings for you. You don’t really need to worry that much though; the servants will guide you through what to do.

It’s really just the same as any other wedding ceremony.” Jimin bites down on his bottom lip. “I’ve never been to a wedding before,” he admits bashfully, “Servants don’t really get married while living in the palace. The ones who did always went home to their villages

before the ceremony began.” “Oh,” the king says after thinking for a long minute, “Well, then, are you busy this evening? I can begin teaching you the basics.”

Jimin thinks about the homework that Namjoon had given him, writing some characters related to animals and a short poem about the origin of the zodiac symbols. “I don’t have any plans.”

“Wonderful,” the king says with a soft smile, “I’ll freshen up after dinner and meet you in front of the royal estate’s gate.”

Jimin meets the king in front of the royal estate gate a little after the 8:00 bell rings out across the palace grounds. It’s only been a week, but already the sun is beginning to hang in the sky later and later. The two begin their walk to the gardens, the sounds of nature

beginning to come to life filling their silence. “How is sword training with Hoseok going?” the king asks as they begin curving towards the path that runs to the south. It’s the opposite direction that the 2 had walked about a week ago, when the king had spoken to him so bluntly.

“It’s hard,” Jimin admits, but he remembers how harshly the king had acted when Jimin had expressed his initial disapproval of the training process, “but Hoseok is a wonderful teacher and I want to work hard so I’m trying my best.”

“If Hoseok followed the training guide I made for him, he had you learning one-on-one tactics today, correct?” the king asks with a cocked eyebrow, “I wanted to give you lots of time to practice proper grip technique before moving on to actual tactics.”

Jimin hadn’t realized that the training schedule Hoseok had been following was handcrafted for him by the king himself. “It’s a really good pace, I feel much better about holding the sword now,” Jimin compliments, noting the way that the king gives a proud smile at the praise,

“I’ll keep trying hard in my lessons.” “Good job,” the king says as they come to a part of the gardens where there is a small training ground set up. Surrounded by thick, tall trees, the grounds are almost as private as one’s bedchambers might be.

As they step into the opening with some training dummies stuffed with hay standing on posts, Jimin suddenly realizes why this place feels so familiar. “Oh,”Jimin says as the king stops in his tracks, turning to look at his fiancé,“I just, remember this place from my childhood.”

The king looks perplexed. “You do?” A blush rises to Jimin’s cheeks as he realizes what he’d just accidentally admitted. There’s no going back now, especially with the way that the king stares intensely at Jimin. “When I was still a young boy, maybe eight or so years old,

I saw you training here one day. I remember being amazed at how someone could look so beautiful and graceful while holding such a dangerous weapon.” The king’s jaw drops open at the information, both exchanging a few blinks of silence, “That... was you?”

Jimin lets out a small squeak of embarrassment at the mere fact that the king had even noticed him at all. “Usually I was left to my own devices, but then one day, some little boy all covered in soot ran by the training grounds, staring at me the entire time.”

Jimin buries his face in his hands as a fire breaks out on his cheeks, “Oh ancestors, I was cleaning the ondol chimney that day, I must have looked like a mess.” “On the contrary,” the king admits as he pulls Jimin into the training grounds

where there are a small selection of wooden swords in an outdoor cabinet, “I remember thinking that I must have been dreaming to see someone with such a royal-looking face covered in black ashes.”

Jimin thinks his face might actually burst into flames at how hard he’s blushing while the king pulls out two wooden swords. “Now, I think you had questions about the ceremony? How about for every time you keep your guard up properly, I’ll tell you one more part of the ceremony?”

the king looks particularly amused at the little game that he’s concocted, smirking in a way that tells Jimin he doesn’t have much say in the matter. “I’ll try my best, your imperial majesty,” Jimin swallows hard, knowing that he’s no match for the king who has been training

for many, many years, “I just worry I won’t learn anything about the wedding by the time we retire for the night though.” “I’ll go easy on you,” the king promises as he saunters over to Jimin, “And how about for every time I break your guard, I get to request 1 thing from you.”

Jimin nods as the 2 take their stance in the middle of the training grounds, not having any choice but to play the king’s little game. Really,at first, the king does honestly go easy on him. He gently taps the sides of Jimin’s wooden sword, complimenting his sturdy form and grip.

“The wedding day begins at dawn, with the couple being readied for a long day before them. You will have many servants taking care of your hair, your makeup, dressing you in the proper outfit, readying your accessories.” The king takes one step forward before very slowly moving

his sword towards Jimin’s side, easily allowing for Jimin to block the hit. “After you eat a light breakfast with your servants, we will meet at lunch for our 1st meal together. It will be more intricate than our breakfasts have been, but less luxurious than the wedding dinner.”

“It will be at the same time as our breakfasts now?” Jimin asks as the king takes another step forward and Jimin taking one step back to give them ample distance apart. “Approximately,” the king answers. The king goes in for a blow against the shoulder,

only when Jimin lifts his sword to counter the blow, the king suddenly ducks down to gently tap at Jimin’s hip. “Ah, my turn. What’s your favorite animal?” “I always liked cats,” Jimin admits, “They are self-sustaining, independent, but still adorable.”

He lifts his sword again to ready himself for the king’s next advance. One countered blow later and the king continues explaining. “After we eat lunch, we will head to the royal hall where the ceremony will be held. There will be a large crowd gathered to witness the marriage.

The servants will prepare the altar necessary for the wedding rites, so don’t worry about that.” “What will happen during the ceremony?” Jimin asks as the king goes in for an attack on his upper thigh that Jimin deflects.

“Well, there have been some... adjustments,” the king admits, “Neither of us have parents to accept each other’s gifts and we are both grooms.” Jimin supposes some rituals must have been changed as a result of the untraditional marriage.

“So during the ceremony, we will both stand on opposite sides of the altar. First we must wash our hands to cleanse ourselves for the ceremony. Then we will give each other two full bows to symbolize acceptance of the marriage.” The king goes in for a sneak attack,

gently swatting at Jimin’s upper arm when he’s not paying attention to the king’s sword. “Don’t ever let your guard down,” the king chastises before he requests, “Tell me about your favorite memory as a child.”

Jimin thinks back on his childhood, trying desperately to remember a highlight, “I remember, when I was six or seven years old, during Seollal when us servants were given tteok-guk to grow a year older. I wanted to grow up so badly that I ate three bowls that evening.”

“Cute,” the king says with a soft smile. For the first time, he goes for a frontal attack, Jimin tilting his sword slightly to the side to block the blow, earning an approving nod from the king. “After we reciprocate our bows to each other,

we’ll be given a gourd of marriage wine that has been poured by our closest, most trusted friends. We must both drink from the same bowl to symbolize our souls becoming one. After we have finished the ceremony, we must bow to the guests together so they accept us as husbands.”

“Is that all?” Jimin asks as the king goes in for another frontal attack, this time putting a bit of force into the blow that has Jimin’s feet skidding back in the dirt. “After the ceremony, we will feast with our guests,” the king informs,

“then we have the coronation ceremony after dinner. You will pledge your undying allegiance to Joseon... and to myself.” The king deals a blow against Jimin’s side that has him jumping a bit in his skin despite the tap being gentle. With how smug the king grins at him though,

it seems to be on purpose. “My peony,” the king coos, “I want you to call me by my name.” Jimin feels color drain from his face at the request, heart sinking into his stomach. He can look into the king’s eyes, can even speak relatively freely with him,

but the idea of calling him by his birth name has Jimin quivering. This must have been the king’s goal all along when he proposed their little bet. “H-hyung.” “Ah ah,” the king tuts as he takes a step forward into Jimin’s space, “You know my name. Go on. Say it.”

Jimin’s bottom lip trembles as his breathing goes shallow, “Y-Y-Yoongi.” Yoongi looks at him deeply, lips curling into a devious smirk, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Despite his wobbly knees, Jimin forces himself to shake his head. Yoongi reaches a hand forward,

cupping Jimin’s jaw with a light touch, “You’re such a good boy for me, Jimin-ah.” “A-After the coronation ceremony? Is there more?” Jimin pleads as he feels his heart hammer away rapidly in his chest.

“You still want to play our game? Very well,” Yoongi confirms as he lifts his wooden sword up again, going in for another frontal attack just like before. This time, Jimin’s feet don’t slide quite so much in the dirt when he deflects the strike,

“After the ceremony, you will be brought to your chambers where your servants will ready you for the journey to my bedchambers. They will remove your head dressing and cleanse your face of your makeup. You will be dressed in a simple hanbok and taken in a gama,

or a small transport vehicle carried by servants, to my bedchamber. This is because nobody ought to see you dressed so informally. I don’t want anyone to ever see you so intimately again.”

Jimin nods in understanding as he deflects another blow from Yoongi’s sword. “Then, my peony, we’ll consummate the marriage. If I promise you one thing, it’s that you will not regret becoming my husband. I will treat you as though you had been born with royal blood.

I will cherish you as though you were the stars themselves.” Jimin swallows hard as the king takes a step forward and into his personal space, his heart leaping and galloping wildly in his chest at how passionately the king speaks.

Jimin takes a step back, trying desperately to stop himself from coming apart at the seams. As he moves, something hits his back, only for his brain to catch up half a moment later that he’s now pressed up against the stuffed training dummy.

“Tell me, if you wish for anything, Jimin-ah,” the king requests, chasing Jimin’s step back with a step forward of his own, “I will pluck even the moon itself from the sky for you. Just let me love you as you deserve. But please, please just love me in return.”

Yoongi’s desperate plea has Jimin’s heart melting in his chest. “That’s all I ask of you.” In their movements, the tip of Yoongi’s wooden sword taps against Jimin’s shin, the contact surprising both of them. “Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin whispers into the rapidly darkening evening,

“Can I make the request for you this time?” Yoongi gives a soft, subtle nod that Jimin would have missed had he not been staring deeply into the king’s eyes. “Will you kiss me, hyung?”

The two drop their wooden swords into the dirt as the king gently cups Jimin’s jaw, taking one step forward to crowd against him. Their lips meet softly for the first time, Jimin’s heart fluttering so quickly in his chest that he wonders if it’ll fly away like a hummingbird.

Yoongi’s lips are tender against his own, Jimin’s hand rising on its own to hold the king’s hip, keeping him from pulling away. Slowly, the king peels apart Jimin’s layers, kiss by kiss, until Jimin is left panting softly from them all.

Both of them have a hearty flush on their cheeks from the intimate contact, watching one another’s gaze as they study each other’s faces up close. “Hyung,” Jimin whispers after a moment of just basking in one another’s embrace,

“did you know you have beauty marks here?” He pokes gently at the tip of the king’s nose before reaching to his cheek. Yoongi smiles so carefully at Jimin that it sends his heart quickening again.

Jimin squeezes his eyes shut as Yoongi leans forward to press his lips against Jimin's forehead and then his cheek, “And you have beauty marks here.” Yoongi leans in to capture Jimin’s lips a few more times, stealing his breath away quite literally.

“We shouldn’t get carried away before our wedding, so perhaps I shall walk you back to your chambers?” Jimin nods meekly as Yoongi takes a step back, allowing Jimin to stand at full height again. “I’d like that, hyung.” They put their training swords away

and begin to head back towards the royal estate when Jimin hurries his pace a bit until he’s walking next to Yoongi. “It’s so late,” he says, “Will you hold my hand so I don’t get scared?” “Maybe you should be the one requesting things when we play our game next time.”

chapter tags // - making out potential trigger warning // - one scene could potentially be viewed as dubious consent

, please exercise caution if this is a trigger

Jimin wakes in the morning feeling butterflies crowd his stomach almost immediately. Throughout the evening after he’d returned to his chambers and began his arduous task of completing his homework, he still felt the pressing of the king’s lips against his own.

He could still trace the ghosting of the way that Yoongi had held him fast against the king’s broad chest. The taste of his skin still lingered on Jimin’s. When Jungkook arrives with his daybreak meal, the attendant carries something beneath his arm as he sets up

the juk, kimchi, and fish in the anteroom. When he finally manages to put everything down in front of Jimin, he presents the small bouquet of flowers. “These are a gift from the king,” Jungkook informs as he places them in front of the table,

“I was tasked with finding somewhere to display them...” He looks around the room fruitlessly to find not a single vase available.

“Don’t worry about it for right now,” Jimin urges as Jungkook looks about ready to dash off for one, “Just enjoy this meal with me.” Every morning, he eats breakfast along with his royal attendant. He’s pretty sure that if anyone caught wind of him sharing his morning meal

with Jungkook that both would get in trouble. Despite that, something about watching Jungkook eat well warms his heart regardless. “So your evening with the king must have been something special,” Jungkook hints, pointing to the flowers as evidence of his guess.

Jimin feels a hearty blush rise to his cheeks as he recounts the way that Yoongi had waxed poetry for him beneath the bright, white moonlight. “We took a nice walk yesterday,” Jimin says, trying to remain purposely vague, but excitement bubbles up too much in him.

Despite trying to tamper the emotion down in his chest, it must be obvious with the way that Jungkook waggles his eyebrows. “He kissed me.” “That’s great!” Jungkook exclaims with a bright smile, “I’m so happy for you.”

“He’s so romantic,” Jimin sighs, feeling a dam break open in his chest now that he’s spilled the most scandalous secret of the evening, “He told me such beautiful things last night. Promised me the moon itself.”

The attendant looks bemused, “We are talking about the same king right? The one who kills people for disagreeing with him?”

Jimin nods, though there is something inside of his chest that begins to twist painfully at the mention. “Yeah,” he agrees carefully. Despite Jimin’s assurance, the mood quickly turns from excitement to uneasy doubt.

“Jungkook-ah, can I ask you something?” The attendant gives a quick nod. “You’ve worked for the royal family for a while right?” Another affirmative head bob from Jungkook. “Is this how he normally acts? Cruel one minute and then loving the next?”

Jungkook takes in a big breath, letting it all exhale out of nose in a long, drawn-out sigh. “If I may be blunt,” Jungkook starts, “I think you confuse him.”

Jimin cocks his head in question, “What do you mean?” “I’ve been working for the royal family for a little over seven years,” the attendant notes, “and I’ve noticed the king has two boxes that he puts people into in his head: Worthy and Unworthy.

Those boxes determine how he treats someone. The people who are in his unworthy box are judged only based on how useful they are to him. When they cease being useful, he discards of them. He doesn’t bother to treat them kindly; uncaring if they dislike or fear him.

Those he deems worthy though, he’d go to the ends of the earth for them; perhaps beyond. Those people are the only ones who deserve respect in his eyes.”

“I see,” Jimin says softly, “That makes sense because sometimes he treats me so gently and kindly, but other times he’s sharp and harsh with me. I couldn’t figure it out before.” Jungkook nods slowly in understanding, “See? You confuse him because he cannot figure out which box

you belong in inside his head. He must sometimes think you are worthy of his trust, willing to show you his true personality. But then, perhaps he reminds himself that you are still new and that you are not worthy yet.”

When Jungkook puts it that way, a dueling of the heart’s desires and the head’s logic, Jimin can start to understand the king’s behavior.

“So how can I convince him I am worthy?” Jimin frets, thumbs twiddling in his lap, “Our wedding is in less than a week. How can we have a proper marriage if he doesn’t trust me?”

Jungkook lets out another long sigh, “Honestly? I don’t really know. I don’t think I’ve convinced him that I am worthy yet either.” Jimin feels himself deflate at the answer, but he’s grateful for the attendant’s honesty. “I would say,

continue to just try and show him you’re interested in him as a person. It will be difficult because he will occasionally resist, but if you’re earnest in making your marriage work, he’ll make it worth it in the end.”

“The king just seems so sad,” Jimin observes, stuck deep in his thoughts as he contemplates how the king had treated him last night, “So desperate for someone to care for him as deeply as he cares for them.” “Yes,” Jungkook agrees,

“but I think that if anyone is capable of making him truly happy, it’s you.” Jimin feels sorrow clenching his heart as he wonders how lonely the king must feel. While he has Hoseok and Namjoon for companionship, Yoonji seems to be someone he feels the need to protect dearly.

Jimin wonders if anyone else is deemed worthy in the king’s head. “I’m just a royal attendant, though,” Jungkook counters after a few moments of silence, “What do I know about the king’s inner thoughts?” “No, Jungkook-ah, you’ve been incredibly helpful.”

When Jimin reports for breakfast, he has dueling emotions fighting for control of his heart. Of course, there is the excited part of him that can’t still his heart after feeling the king pressed up against him last night.

The part that wants to forgo all formalities and just plop himself right in the lap of the king and kiss him again. But then, at the same time as his heart hammers away in his chest, it’s also bathed in anguish at how alone the king must feel.

There’s a sense of inner duty as his future husband that Jimin wants to take on his shoulders to try and alleviate some of the king’s isolation. But as Jungkook had said, not yet does Jimin fall into the category of worthiness.

“Did you sleep well, Jimin-ah?” the king asks as breakfast is served. The maids and the servants bustle around them, setting out the feast for today’s first main meal. Seokjin waits for the king to decide which pieces he’d like to eat first,

while Taehyung waits on both Jimin and Yoonji. “I did, hyungnim,” Jimin says politely, “How about yourself? Did you go to sleep shortly after our walk?”

Yoongi looks up at Jimin, slightly surprised at being asked about his own evening, “Ah, no.” Jimin frowns at the answer. “I worked for a few hours after I returned to my chambers. I slept for a few hours perhaps.” “I see,” Jimin says,“I hope that you’ll sleep well tonight then.”

A few moments of awkward silence passes before Yoonji speaks up, “Well I slept wonderfully!” She continues relegating the poetry that she wrote last night after dinner, followed by the tea she’d drank with her ladies-in-waiting.

Jimin watches as the king listens intensely to the young princess’s blathering, almost treating Yoonji’s evening of entertainment as seriously as important matters of the nation.

“I’m glad you had a good evening,” Yoongi says once Yoonji is finished explaining every intricate detail of yesterday, “If there’s anything I can do to make things better for you, you know you can always ask.”

Jimin simply observes throughout breakfast, watching how Yoongi seems to take in every one of Yoonji’s little quips and comments as though they’re laced with gold themselves. He seems to hang on her every word, offering to do little things to improve Yoonji’s life in the palace,

such as asking the servants to lower the furnace that runs under the ondol floors so she doesn’t get so hot at night. Very slowly, Jimin is starting to see the difference in the way Yoongi treats people in the different boxes; worthy and unworthy.

“Jimin-ah,”Yoongi says as the servants clear the breakfast dishes away, “I’ll walk you to the government buildings this morning.” “You will?”Jimin questions, barely believing his ears, “You don’t have to take that burden on yourself. If Jungkook-nim is busy, I can go on my own.”

“I will walk you,” the king repeats before adding, “I have business to do in the king’s library anyways.” Jimin nods meekly, realizing that Yoongi had not been offering; he’d been commanding.

Yoonji dismisses herself from the dining hall for the morning, casually mentioning to her brother about the painting that she’s planning on doing this afternoon with her art instructor. Yoongi wishes her luck, asking for her to please show him the painting once she’s finished.

Jimin watches their interaction with keen interest. The two begin the walk to the government offices, with the king guiding Jimin out of the royal estate towards the pond. Instead of the direct method that Jungkook usually takes though, the king takes a short detour,

stopping by his chambers to gather a scroll he needs for the day’s work. “Today, you will study methods of attacking, rather than simple defending,” Yoongi explains, “Then with Namjoon, you’ll continue studying basic hanja.”

Jimin nods as the king tells Jimin what he should expect from the day. “In the evening, perhaps we will carve out time for some star viewing.”

Jimin nods obediently, heart thumping in excitement of spending another evening with the king. “I’d like that. I enjoy spending time with you, hyung,” Jimin says, hoping that perhaps he can break down some of the king’s thick walls around his heart.

“As you should,” Yoongi notes, “We are to be married after all.” As the two reach the king’s chambers, it’s clear that this is one of the most luxurious parts of the estate. The floors are well polished,

the painting on the paper doors and windows intricate and completed with precise brushstrokes. To think that this is only the crown prince’s chambers rather than the ones meant for the king has Jimin’s head spinning.

“You’re a very unique, interesting person,” Jimin says as the king dashes to grab his scroll and quickly meets Jimin back outside again, “I want to hear all of your thoughts and views on the world.” The king looks thrown off by the compliment, touched in a way he hadn’t expected.

The two begin walking towards the government buildings again, with Jimin walking along side of the king. After a long minute of contemplation, the king resolves icily, “I am of the opinion that most people are only as interesting as they are useful.”

“Is that how you view me?” Jimin asks to no response. As Yoongi moves them through the royal estate, Jimin realizes that there’s less and less people around them. When they finally come across the area where royal guests are held,

currently empty with the lack of foreign dignitaries, Yoongi finds a small, private alcove. It’s just a gate that’s closed off from the outskirts of the royal estate, but there’s a small roof and deep shadows that conceal them entirely.

The king pushes Jimin into the corner, wood hitting his back as the king crowds up against him. Yoongi grabs at Jimin’s jaw, pulling him in for a deep, passionate kiss that has Jimin going stiff in shock.

The rough nature of the kiss has Jimin’s brain frying in his head, until the second kiss begins to melt Jimin’s inhibitions away. The third kiss presses Yoongi’s tongue past Jimin’s lips, stealing all that he wants from Jimin without care.

By the fourth kiss that the king takes from his lips, Jimin throws his arms over Yoongi’s shoulders, pulling the king up tight against him, fighting against the tide that is the king’s kiss.

They kiss greedily, each determined to steal one another’s breath away. Jimin clings to the king’s robes as Yoongi moves his hands to both of Jimin’s hips, angling them as though to try and make them one.

After a few frantic, heated kisses, the king pulls away from Jimin’s lips only to attack his neck with hungry kisses and nibbles of his teeth. “Your imperial majesty,” Jimin pants as his stout fingers flex and tug on the black robes threaded with gold, “Our obligations...”

“Fuck them,” the king curses against Jimin’s tanned skin that is quickly turning red from the attention, “You have no idea the things that I want to do to you right now.” “Hyung?” Jimin asks, unsure of what the king is talking about. With a swift tug of Jimin’s hips,

Yoongi grinds his growing hardness against Jimin’s thigh. The sensation draws a low groan from the king, before he does it again for his own pleasure.

“I want to take you to my bedchambers,” the king explains as he slowly slides his hands up, stretching his fingers beneath Jimin’s jeogori and pressing against the bare skin of his torso, “and prove to you over and over why you should love only me.”

A finger flicks against Jimin’s nipple beneath his clothing, drawing a deep gasp from his chest, “Hyung, there’s more to love than-”

Jimin is cut off by the sound of a servant yelling to another just a building or two away, “Has anyone seen our imperial majesty!? He was due at the king’s library five minutes ago! Where is his royal attendant!?” A growl rips out of Yoongi’s throat as he peels his hands away

from Jimin’s body, Jimin slumping uselessly against the archway without the king’s support. His chest heaves with how Yoongi has made him feel, lightheaded in all the right ways. Yoongi takes one step to shield Jimin from the view of others

just as the servant who’d cried out bursts through the opposite gateway. “I am here,” the king snaps, “Go tell the ministers I will be present in a minute. Hurry, before I cut your head off!”

The servant scurries off quickly as Jimin finally gains the ability to stand on his wobbly legs again. “Your imperial majesty, I am late for my lessons with Jung-minister.” Yoongi looks back at Jimin, eyes darkening with pure lust as he steals 1 last kiss from his fiancé’s lips.

“You must train well today, understand?” the tone that the king uses is the same that he’d directed at Yoonji earlier, soft and genuine. Jimin nods diligently, “I promise, for you, my king.”

chapter tw // - mention of past child abuse

Jimin shows up to the training area to a somewhat frantic Hoseok. “Oh there you are,” the minister says as he places a relieved hand over his chest, “I thought that something might have happened to you; you’re not usually late.”

A fierce blush rises to Jimin’s cheeks as he thinks about how he’d had to spend a few extra moments after peeling himself away from Yoongi to calm his racing heart and labored breathing. “I got distracted by something, I humbly apologize,” Jimin gives a deep bow.

Hoseok takes a few steps up until he’s face to face with Jimin, eyeing him thoroughly. A sly smirk grows on Hoseok’s face as he analyzes the man before him. “If it has something to do with these marks all over your neck,” the minister points at the spots of red

that are now blossoming on his skin, “And the king, then I think I understand.” Jimin wishes the earth would just swallow him up to save him from the embarrassment. Jimin puts his all into training for the afternoon.

It’s his first day where he’ll begin studying attacks rather than simple defenses. Luckily, thanks to Yoongi’s training session last night, Jimin passes all of Hoseok’s defense tests easily. “Someone was working hard,”

Hoseok compliments as he deems Jimin ready to move on to the next portion of training, “I may have heard about some extra practice you’d taken on last night?” Jimin buries his face in his hands as he tries to stave off the mortification that consumes him.

“How did you find out!?” Hoseok smiles brightly, “Let’s focus on training, rather than gossip about your evening with the king.”

Studying with Namjoon has less teasing, but there’s more than once that Jimin notices Namjoon peaking at his neck while he bends over his scrolls. “It was the king,” Jimin defends meekly after noticing the 3rd or 4th time, “He made me late for training with Hoseok-hyung today.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Namjoon counters with a dimpled smile, “But I was asked to not give you homework tonight. A special request from the king himself.” Namjoon gives a knowing wink. Jimin wonders if he can disappear into thin air if he tries hard enough.

Jimin reports for dinner as expected, bowing deeply when he meets the king just so he can hide the blush that threatens to overtake his face. By now, his neck is a mottled mess of pinks and reds, drawing a long, knowing glance from those who see him.

“How were your lessons today?” Yoongi asks as he sips at his soup. “They were productive; I did as you told me and trained hard,” Jimin reports, “How was your day with the ministers?”

Yoongi looks surprised by Jimin’s question, “It was fine.” The king slowly tells Jimin about the things he’d done today, who he’d met with. It’s nothing akin to closely guarded national secrets, but it’s more than just a quick reminder of Jimin’s place in the palace.

It’s enough that Jimin considers it a victory in itself. After the king has sufficiently told Jimin about his day, he notes towards the end of the meal, “I have reserved the royal observatory for us this evening.”

A few minutes later, the two are headed out of the royal estate and towards the northern end of the palace grounds. It’s a part of the palace that is frequented more by laborers and tradesmen. These grounds are more where Jimin had worked as a servant,

doing things such as chopping wood for the furnaces and drawing water from the wells beneath the mountain. In addition to the manual labor that takes place in this part of the palace, this is also where most of the advancements in science and the natural world are conducted.

The observatory is not a particularly fancy building in comparison to the others. Due to being a place for scientists and the occasional interested noble, it’s not lavishly decorated like most of the other buildings in the palace. There is a wooden floor,

but it lacks the ondol heating system that flows through most of the royal estate buildings. The beams are not painted with anything colorful or fancy, just simple sturdy wood that will stand the test of time. The observatory has a large cut out in the middle of the roof,

allowing for easy viewing of the night sky. As promised by the king, the observatory is empty, allowing the two the ability to gaze at the night sky easily.

The sky is already full of stars, even though the moon has not yet reached its peak. A simple breeze blows past, the doors and windows left open to welcome the warmth of spring.

Beneath the stars, Yoongi and Jimin finds a comfortable position to lay on the floor, aided by a few floor cushions. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about astronomy,” Jimin admits as they look up at the twinkling stars.

Yoongi cranes his head to get a better look at Jimin, “Truthfully, neither do I. That’s what astronomers and scientists are for.” For a long moment, all they do is observe the stars above them. “They’re beautiful,” Jimin breathes after silence settles in.

“They are,” Yoongi agrees, “Something about their permanence brings me comfort. No matter what may happen in our daily lives, the stars will always be there to greet us when the sun leaves.” A smile twitches at the corner of Jimin’s mouth, “That sounds like a poem of sorts.”

“Perhaps,” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders, “But I can’t remember if I read it in a book long ago or if it’s one of Yoonji’s poems.” “You care a lot for the Royal Princess, don’t you?” Jimin asks as some of the stars twinkle above them, “She seems to be so fond of you.”

“I basically raised her,” the king notes,“Our parents were hardly involved in our lives after our creation.” Jimin listens carefully, waiting for the king to continue. “My father, of course, was very busy as the king, but I don’t have a single memory of him before I was 14 or 15.

As for my mother, I hardly even remember her voice. I think she was more interested in gossiping with her ladies-in-waiting than being a mother.”

“So who raised you?” Jimin asks innocently, hoping that he isn’t crossing any boundaries. It seems that the king is in a good mood though, since the question doesn’t earn the king’s ire.

“I raised myself,” Yoongi says, “We had royal attendants who waited on us, similar to how Jungkook waits on you now. However, they didn’t teach us anything; simply shuffle us off between different teachers and ministers who took turns teaching us academics.

Yoonji was born when I was nearly ten years old. Before that, I was a hot-headed, boisterous child who listened to nobody. I had to improve myself in order to raise Yoonji properly.”

“You’ve done well,” Jimin compliments, “She’s a bright, warm person with a large heart.” “That is entirely her own doing,” Yoongi dismisses, “I tried to instill in her that she ought to not let everyone into her heart with such ease. They will only hurt her if she lets them in.”

“Hyung,” Jimin says softly as he rises up onto his elbows, turning to look at the king, “That’s not true. There are good people in this world with kind hearts.”

Yoongi tears his gaze away from the stars to match Jimin’s gaze, “How can you say that? You were a servant for this palace, a member of the lowest class. People treated you as though you were no more valuable than the dirt beneath their shoes.

It was only after you were elevated to the nobility class that people treated you well. So how can you tell me that there are people out there who won’t use my dear sister’s kind heart for their own gain?”

Jimin frowns at how passionate Yoongi is about his interpretation of people. How tightly he guards his heart from others, in an attempt to shield himself from potential pain. “It’s true that many people didn’t give me so much as a second glance while I worked here,

but there were people who still treated me kindly. For example, Seokjin and Taehyung were two of my closest friends while we were servants. They are members of the jungin class, but they still treated me just as though we were equal members of society.

I spent too many evenings up late with them, just enjoying their company.” The king’s eyebrows furrow together as he contemplates Jimin’s words. “I refuse to take back my words in their entirety,

but perhaps you are correct about some people. Your heart seems to be just as kind as Yoonji’s. I do not worry about letting you spend time with her.”

“Thank you, hyung,” Jimin says, embarrassment prickling at his cheeks from the compliment. In return, Yoongi smiles back at him. Jimin slowly lowers himself down to his back again, the image of the starry night filling his vision again.

“What was like growing up as a servant?” Yoongi asks after a long time, “I always wondered what it must be like to be a normal person.”

“Being a servant isn’t how most people grow up,” Jimin says, “but it’s uncommon in a different way than it must have been as a crown prince. I was sold to palace when I was about five years old,

so I don’t remember my parents or siblings well at all. The lowest ranking servants are always given the most laborious tasks and the most dangerous. When I was younger, before I truly understood the scope of my duties, I was beaten a lot by my supervisors.

I think some of them enjoyed the power they wielded over me.” Yoongi exhales sharply at the mention, jolting upright and looking deep into Jimin’s eyes, “Who are they? I will kill them for harming you.”

A hearty laugh bubbles up from Jimin’s chest at the king’s indignant anger, “Most of them are no longer at the palace, don’t worry, my king. They usually married after the age of twenty-five and left the palace shortly after. Plus, I was so young, I might have deserved it then.”

His mind flashes to Misoo and how cruelly she had always treated him, but the idea of her losing her life because of him is something he cannot bear. Yoongi does not look pleased by Jimin’s answer, but he accepts it in the end.

The king gradually relaxes back to look at the stars above them again. Laying in the observatory with the king is peaceful. The sound of birds calling is slowly being replaced with the noise of crickets, the white light of the moon slowly crawling up the night sky.

“Hyung,” Jimin says after a few, long minutes, “Our wedding is in two days.” The king gives an affirmative hum.

“I have confirmed that the kitchens are ready for the royal banquet, the servants have prepared the necessary rites for the ceremony, the religious authorities are ready to perform their duties,” Yoongi says, “Tomorrow, you will spend the entire day with Hoseok and Jungkook

going over the preparations.” The king rises onto his arms, rolling over to gently hover over Jimin. His long, blonde hair flows over his shoulders, draping around Jimin like a curtain of pure sunlight. “Then, in two days’ time, you will become my husband. You will look

so gorgeous in your marriage robes,” Yoongi promises as he leans down to kiss the tip of Jimin’s nose, “And after the coronation, we will finally become one soul.” Jimin swallows hard at the insinuation behind the king’s words,“I will do my best to perform my duties as husband.”

Slowly, the king leans down until he’s capturing Jimin’s lips in a deep, sensual kiss. It’s nothing frantic like their kisses had been this morning, but there is passion and emotion threaded through it nonetheless.

“I have faith that you will perform your duties well,” Yoongi coos. While they simply revel in the intimacy of being close like this, the sound of the nine o’clock bell rings far on the edge of the palace. “We should return to our chambers,” he urges,

“We both have a long day tomorrow. I have much work to do to make up for my absence during our wedding. You will have a lot of training.”

The two rise to their feet, the king extending a hand out to help Jimin stand again. They exit the observatory and begin the walk back to the royal estates. “I’m afraid I won’t be joining you for meals tomorrow,” Yoongi says as the gravel crunches beneath their shoes,

“I will be spending my entire day in the government buildings with the ministers. I’ll call for my meals to be brought to me there.” Jimin nods, but something deep in his chest crumbles at the news.

In the span of two weeks, he’d grown so accustomed to dining with the king that being left alone now feels isolating. “Yoonji will be there with you for dinner though.”

“Oh!” Jimin says, “I look forward to spending some time with the princess then.” “I know she has a tendency to blather on about nothing and she has almost no filter,” Yoongi warns, “so should she mention anything unappealing or embarrassing about myself, simply ignore her.”

Jimin feels a smile twitch at the corner of his lips at the prospect of Yoonji accidentally spilling some sort of mortifying secret. “Of course, hyung. Whatever you say, hyung.”

chapter tw // - mention of murder - arranged marriage

The next day is quite busy. Jimin is woken in the early morning with his daybreak meal, only to be whisked away immediately to the royal dressers. The seamstresses bustle around him as they tug the luxurious wedding outfit on.

One of the seamstresses checks that his outer suit fits well, another that his baji aren’t too long, another that his jeogori doesn’t show beneath his outer suit. Yet another checks to make sure that the proper ornaments are in place on Jimin’s body

while a fifth places his ceremonial headdress on and makes sure that none of the pieces are out of balance.

For almost an hour, Jimin has to stand still, only moving when one of the seamstresses asks him to lift his arm or to move his foot to check how it looks when he walks. By the time that all of the dressing staff are satisfied with the adjustments they must make to the outfit,

the sun is well past risen. He is called to eat a quick breakfast before his appointment to meet with Hoseok. It feels like he’s barely sat down before Taehyung (Seokjin is off in the government buildings with the king for the day) is speeding him along through breakfast.

The rest of the afternoon, he spends the entire time learning about what steps he must take during the long ceremony tomorrow. As the sun begins to set, they run through some small rehearsals so Jimin theoretically knows what to expect.

Even though Hoseok gives him a scroll with information on what to do, it feels like far too much for Jimin to all take in. “Please try not to worry too much, Jimin-ah,” Hoseok surmises at the end of the day.

Jimin’s stomach is already empty with the expectation of dinner, but his head is full of concerns. “Your servants will guide you through the entire thing.”

“You make it sound easy,” Jimin laments as he tries to remember what he’s going to do when. “Everyone is going to be watching me and if I mess up, they’ll all know that I am nothing more than a member of the cheonmin class-” Hoseok stops Jimin in the midst of his tirade,

“There is only 1 person that you need to focus on tomorrow; your husband. If he is satisfied with you, then that’s all that matters. Plus, realistically, Namjoon and I are skilled in the art of turning political messes into something positive. We have plenty of practice by now.”

Jimin frowns when he realizes that Hoseok is right, but somehow, the words don’t calm the storm in his heart. “Enjoy yourself. It’s your wedding day! It should be the happiest day of your life. Now, off to dinner with you. I can hear your stomach rumbling from here.”

Jungkook collects Jimin from the government offices and brings him to the royal dining quarters for dinner. Jimin takes his seat at the now familiar table, the dining room seeming so empty without Yoongi here. Barely a minute after Jimin has settled into his seat,

the door ajars and a voice announces, “Jimin-mama, I present to you, her imperial majesty, Royal Princess Yoonji.” Jimin straightens his back as he tries his best to call back with confidence, “Allow her entrance.” If his voice wavers a bit at the beginning,

nobody mentions it to him. The door is slid to the right before the princess is presented to him. She takes her usual place at the third dining table, sitting down and smoothing out her beautiful sky blue chima around her.

“Hi Jimin-orabeoni,” Yoonji says brightly as Taehyung places her dishes in front of her, “How was your wedding rehearsal?” “It’s so much for me to learn,” Jimin laments, taking a sip of his soup once Taehyung gives it clearance.

“Don’t worry about it,” Yoonji dismisses casually, shrugging her shoulders,“My brother is already basically head over heels about you anyways. I think even if you spilled the marital rice wine all over him during the ceremony, he’d still be making heart eyes at you all day long.”

Jimin shivers at the thought of messing up so badly in front of all the court. “That’s easy for you to say.” “Yes and no,” Yoonji says, “I’m going to be getting married next year, so I’ll have to suffer through this same thing soon too.”

“You’ll be marrying soon?” Jimin says in surprise, “This is the first I’ve heard about it.” “It’s not really official yet,” Yoonji coos with a lovesick grin. It’s almost the same one that Jimin has caught Yoongi giving him multiple times,

“but Orabeoni has already approved the request for my hand, so we’ll begin working on the necessary rites soon. Typical engagements are quite long for royals; Orabeoni just couldn’t be patient with his own.” Yoonji gives a dramatic eyeroll with her quip, but it’s in good nature.

“Tell me about your fiancé,” Jimin requests, “You seem excited to marry him.” As expected, she goes off on some long tangent about the man, who seems to be a high ranking member of the yangban class. He’s almost as high in prestige as members of the royal family themselves,

just without the clan title. A well-read man with strong determination to become a minister as he continues his career in civil servitude. “Segwang-orabeoni has been a close friend of mine for the past five years,” she gushes happily,

“He’s the one I wanted to marry for a long time. Thanks to my older brother saving me, I can finally accept his hand in marriage.”

Jimin tilts his head at the final comment from the princess, “What do you mean?” Yoonji stops her flittering over her lover at Jimin’s question. She suddenly turns serious in a way that Jimin has not yet seen from the princess. “About six months ago,

my father approved my betrothal to Crown Prince Huidam of the Balje kingdom and I was supposed to leave just over three months ago. But Orabeoni knew that the Balje kingdom was in a lot of political trouble and that it wasn’t safe, so he fought with our father about it.

When Abeoji didn’t budge on the marriage proposal, Orabeoni staged a coup and killed him so that I wouldn’t have to go.” Jimin’s mouth drops open of its own accord at the casualness with which Yoonji speaks. “Crown Prince Huidam? The son of King Huikyang?

The family who, just two months ago, were all beheaded by a band of rebels?” “Yep,” Yoonji says with a bob of her long, black hair, “If Orabeoni hadn’t taken power when he did, I probably wouldn’t have a head right now.”

Jimin lets out a low whistle. “I think he lets everyone think he killed our father just for power because it makes him sound tougher and scarier though.”

Jimin turns to Taehyung with an incredulous expression, “Did you know about this!?” Taehyung holds his hands up in innocence, “As part of my job, I do have some knowledge I am not allowed to tell others.” Yoonji looks between the two, pointing at both of them,

“Wait, are you two friends?” Both give a nod before the princess squeals, “Oh! That’s so cute! Taehyungie, tell me all of the embarrassing stories about Jimin before he became betrothed to my brother.” Jimin buries his face in his hands as an evil grin crosses Taehyung’s face.

Dinner gossiping with Yoonji and Taehyung is an unusually long event. By the time that Jimin is making it back to his quarters, it’s already past nine o’clock. As he walks back to his chambers, grey clouds fill the sky,

blocking out the moonlight from guiding his and Jungkook’s path. With his busy day tomorrow, he doesn’t have much time before he’s readying himself for bed, heart full of excitement and fear for the next day. The gentle pelting of rain on the roof lulls him to sleep.

It barely feels like Jimin has laid his head down before Jungkook is gently calling out to him. “Jimin-hyung,” his attendant calls, “Wake up. It is time to begin readying yourself for the day.”

In his bedchambers, Jimin blinks his eyes slowly, staring at the ceiling. He will not look at this ceiling the same way ever again. The next time that he casts his glance at the expanse of dragons flying over his head, he will be a married man. He will have a husband to tend to,

to cherish for the rest of his life. “I’m awake,” Jimin calls back to Jungkook who is setting up his daybreak meal already. Though the moon still shines brightly in the sky, not yet daybreak, he must eat to gain strength for the long day ahead.

He throws on his outer robe over his sleepwear, making his way into the anteroom where Jungkook is busily putting his juk, kimchi, and grilled fish on the low table. “When did you wake up today?” Jimin asks as he takes a seat to see Jungkook’s eyelids heavy despite his work.

“Around four this morning,” Jungkook notes, smiling despite his obvious exhaustion. “Rest here while I eat then,” Jimin says, taking his soup spoon and handing it to Jungkook for him to taste, “I won’t tell anyone.” Jungkook nods slowly as he does his duty of tasting the food

before laying down on some of the spare floor cushions, creating a makeshift bed. Jimin eats quietly, hoping to keep the servant from stirring while he eats. After about 15 minutes,Jimin gently shakes the attendant awake, offering him some bits that he hadn’t been able to finish.

“Last night I had a dream,” Jimin says as Jungkook finishes off the remaining kimchi and fish, “that I was a crane. As I waded through the pond, another crane came to me with the most regal gold feathers. I woke just as we took flight together.” Jungkook smiles fondly,

“Cranes are a symbol of a marital fidelity.” Just as the two finish up the early daybreak meal, the pattering of rain slows to a stop, “And they also say that rain is good luck on your wedding day.”

“Really?” Jimin asks as he changes into a pair of clothes acceptable enough to leave his chambers in, throwing on a light dopo jacket. Jungkook guides Jimin out of the late queen’s chambers and towards the back of the royal estate where the bathhouse is,

“They say that a knot tied when wet will never come undone.” They make their way through the estate, water puddles splashing when their shoes accidentally graze over them. “Let’s get you over to be cleansed before your marriage.” Jimin doesn’t particularly like bathing.

As a servant, it was an event that he partook in once a year, usually on his birthday. After being dunked in freezing cold water yearly in the chilly autumn months and scrubbed until his skin turned red, he has come to dislike the practice.

With all of his trainings the past two weeks, it had been easy to continually put off the chore and opt only to wash his face, hands and feet in the privacy of his own chambers. Walking into the royal bath house though has his jaw dropping in awe at the luxuriousness of it.

Perhaps if someone had told him that bathing for royals wasn’t such a tortuous practice as it was for lowly servants, he wouldn’t have delayed the task for so long. Once Jimin strips out of his robes, he enters the waters to find them actually warm. The bathtub is large,

perhaps big enough to fit three or four people comfortably. It’s pleasant, something that he doesn’t think he’d ever call the practice of bathing prior. Jungkook sits off to the side of the bath, offering Jimin occasional soaps and shampoos that Jimin might need.

The bathhouse itself is full of expertly carved patterns, but there is a distinctive lack of artwork on the wall. When Jimin points it out to Jungkook, the attendant nods,“Paint doesn’t stick well to the walls of the bathhouse, due to the steam.” Jimin finishes cleaning himself,

bewildered at how it feels to be clean without shivering in the cold air of the eighth month. Just as he’s about to exit the bath, Jungkook shakes his head, “You must pray first,” the attendant points at a large carving on the east wall of a dragon,

“If you don’t vanquish the bad omens, they will cling to your wet hair. Every time you exit the bath, you must remember to pray. Otherwise, the bad omens will follow you to your chambers and make you ill while you sleep.” Jimin follows Jungkook’s instructions,

before his attendant hands him a towel to dry himself off with. “Now, you are ready to be dressed for your wedding.” The two make their way back to Jimin’s chambers, the beginning of sunlight beginning to peak from the edge of the horizon.

Already, the palace is bustling though, everyone working diligently to get their part ready in time for the wedding. Off in the distance, Jimin can hear the sound of wood being chopped. The royal kitchens are bubbling away, the most skilled chefs in all of Joseon present

and working to prepare enough food for the banquet. Even though it’s barely morning, it seems as though the palace has been alive for hours already. Jimin is dressed in his marriage gown, the dressers helping him tie every sash together in just the right way.

They dress him in a luxurious jeogori and baji made of pure silk, followed by his groom’s wedding suit. They help him secure his belt around his upper torso,before sliding on his special grooms’ shoes. Considering the lack of bride and that Jimin is marrying into Yoongi’s family,

the compromise had been made by the dressers to give Jimin a more feminine hat and makeup. It’s adorned with beautiful jewels and beads. Colorful ornaments hang on his forehead, all of them the highest quality and the most exclusive material.

Bright red paint is applied in big circles to his cheeks to ward of evil spirits that may want to harm the newlywed couple. After seemingly hours, the servants step back to observe their work. “You look gorgeous,” Jungkook says breathlessly,

“All of your other outfits pale in comparison.” Jimin looks down at himself, dressed in the most luxurious, vibrant reds fitting for a royal wedding. He has embroideries of dragons and cranes stitched throughout his clothes, the first taste he’s had of being formally inducted

into the royal family. Across his chest is a carefully handsewn royal dragon in magnificent gold. “I think the king will cry when he sees you. Let’s hurry.” Jimin is loaded into a special gama, which is waiting for him outside of his chambers.

Traditionally, the bride was brought in such a vehicle to protect her heavy skirts from gathering dirt, but Yoongi had approved of Jimin’s usage solely to keep those unworthy from seeing Jimin in his wedding robes. It feels strange to watch the gama exit the estate

and make its way to the royal court hall, the gama shifting with each step the servants take. The main court building where the wedding will take place seems to be larger than Jimin remembered it being. He’d been here two weeks ago, trailing behind Princess Dahee,

scared out of his mind. Back then, he’d been unable to lift his head from the ground, gluing his gaze to the floor permanently. For him to even look up and take notice of the bright colors that line the wooden beams feels like an impossibility even a few weeks ago.

In the court building is Yoongi’s royal throne. The entire building has been modified to hold a special stage in front of the king’s throne now though, the stage displaying the necessary wedding rituals. The table is split with the traditional wedding tablecloth,

with a red cloth on the east and a blue cloth on the west, sewn together in the center. On top of the table are many symbolic foods, such as chestnuts, jujube, and rice. On the edges of the table stand 2 candle sticks, 1 with red wax on the east and 1 with blue wax on the west.

Behind the table, separating the crowd from the royal throne, stands a gorgeous paper wall, painted with cranes, dragons, and other mythical creatures, all reaching towards the sun. On both sides are places already set out for the couple to eat lunch.

There is a significant crowd that has gathered for the wedding, so many that Jimin feels his face growing hot. However, as he exits the gama, he is greeted by the servants who will stay by his side during his wedding. “Seokjin-hyung! Taehyung-ah! Jungkook-ah!” Jimin exclaims

as he throws his arms around each of them, “I’m so glad you’ll be the ones helping me to stop from making a fool of myself.” “The king gave us special permission to help you,” Seokjin says, “He allowed us to prepare for this while you were busy in school.

Not sure if we're really enough to keep you from making a fool of yourself, though.” He gently teases Jimin in a way that only Seokjin can. “I’m just here to try and catch that cute minister’s eye,” Taehyung says as he points at Hoseok on the eastern side of the hall,

“You put in a good word about me to him in exchange for helping you today, alright?” Jimin laughs as he gives everyone another hug, “Of course. Hoseok is the one of the nicest ministers I’ve ever met. The other being Namjoon-hyung.” Before the wedding ceremony begins,

the two hosts extend their thanks to their guests in the form of lunch. Typically, the guests are not so numerous that they physically divide the two from one another, but with the entirety of court present, it’s more difficult to catch sight of Yoongi across the vast hall.

After about ten minutes of vying for a glimpse at his fiancé without success, Jimin relegates himself to catching up with his closest friends instead. After the twelve o’clock bell rings throughout the palace grounds, lunch is quickly brought to a close.

The kitchen servants quietly buss the tables and clear away the leftover food as the scholars and priests take the stage. Jimin takes his spot on the side of the stage as the wedding officially begins. The master of ceremony announces the necessary information to the guests,

relaying both the king’s lineage as well as Jimin’s new family clan. He calls upon the spirits to help bless the couple with a marriage full of faithfulness, love, and trust. He then calls for the king to enter the marriage stage, before he welcomes Jimin onto the stage as well.

When Jimin steps up onto the platform and casts his glance across the ceremonial table, he feels every fiber of his being burst into profound ecstasy. Yoongi looks more regal than Jimin has ever seen him,

dressed in the brightest red color and his marriage suit decorated with the most sophisticated golden patterns. While Jimin looks majestic himself, he almost looks lackluster in comparison to the king. Not only does the king have the most complex, high quality clothes,

but his hat is adorned with beautiful, brightly colored beads hanging delicately in his face. The hair pieces holding his flowing blonde locks are made from pure jade. As Jimin stares across the expanse to his betrothed, he feels his bottom lip begin to tremble,

tears flooding his eyes. “Yoongi-hyung,” he mouths to the king, vision blurring. He can’t clearly see if Yoongi responds to him. “Please wash your hands,” the ceremony master instructs, “to enter into your marriage as cleansed souls, ready to intertwine your beings together.”

Jimin is shuffled off to the side of the stage where a large bowl waits for him. He cleans his hands with the cold water, before Taehyung dries his hands for him. Together with his closest servants, he is returned to the traditional spot just across the stage from Yoongi.

“The groom consort shall bow two times to his husband,” the master announces as Jimin slowly lowers himself to his knees, bowing deeply with his forehead pressed to the floor for a full three seconds, before he rises. He repeats the motion once more,

Seokjin helping to ensure that his hat nor any of its ornaments are disrupted by his movements. “Next, his most imperial majesty shall bow to his groom consort twice.” Along with Namjoon and Hoseok to guide him, Yoongi bows deeply to Jimin.

He falls to his knees to bow deeply for the only person in the nation that he will ever bend for again. Watching as the king slowly rises each time, Jimin feels such love in his heart that it almost physically pains him. The couple are brought to small floor cushions

in front of the ceremonial wedding table. They listen attentively as the master of ceremony performs the necessary blessings and warding off of evil spirits for the couple. After about fifteen minutes of various calls upon both family’s ancestors to watch over the couple,

he procures a gourd of rice wine. Taehyung and Hoseok both rise from their respective groom’s side, joining hands together to pour it from the serving gourd to a drinking bowl. “By drinking from the same cup, you will tie yourselves together as husbands,” he preaches,

“You vow before one another, before your ancestors, and before all of Joseon itself to perform martial fidelity to the utmost of your abilities.” The two hand the bowl to Yoongi who readily accepts it. Once the king has taken a sip,

the same bowl is then brought to Jimin, who drinks from the opposite side. Both Yoongi and Jimin rise from their spots before the ceremonial table, turning to give one more full bow to their guests and their ancestors, presenting themselves as a new married couple to the nation.

“With the marital wine drunk and the ancestors accepting of your marriage, you are now officially husbands in the eyes of the Gods.”

Jimin is quickly whisked away after the final bow is finished and the master of ceremony calls the wedding to a close. The guests are invited to a small gathering in front of the court building dedicated to the newlywed couple.

A troupe of musicians play a lively ballad for the king and his husband. Along with the music, a group of dancers perform a dance with the pervasive trope of a dragon portraying the king and a crane to symbolize Jimin as a faithful spouse.

Not that Jimin nor Yoongi are allowed to watch, both being ushered away to take off their wedding attire and into formal robes for the coronation.

While Jimin removes his red wedding robe, remaining in his earlier jeogori and baji made of pure silk, Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook gush about the wedding. “You should have seen how hard the king was crying,” Jungkook laughs, “He’s lucky he was wearing his beaded crown

so nobody could see him sobbing. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’d behead anyone for insinuating that he’s even capable of crying in the first place.” “I don’t think Jimin saw either,” Seokjin adds as he undoes the belt on Jimin’s waist, “He was crying too.”

“You two are gross,” Taehyung gags as he grabs the new robe for Jimin to change into. “Says the one who made me promise to introduce him to Hoseok-hyung,” Jimin rolls his eyes dramatically.

“Ooo,” Jungkook taunts,“Someone thinks that Hoseok-hyung is cute?” “I’m going to tell about the time you fell into the horse dung because you had too much rice wine during Seollal if you say another word,”Taehyung threatens as Jungkook removes the wedding robe from Jimin’s body.

“Do I need to remind you that it’s my wedding day and you’re supposed to be nice to me?” Jimin asks as Taehyung helps him into the new robe, Jungkook easily tying it shut with deft fingers. Taehyung mocks Jimin’s words in a high-pitched voice,

but he doesn’t further elaborate on his story. Now that Jimin is officially married to the king, yet not coronated as king consort, he is given a deep blue overcoat to put on top of his jeogori and baji. In addition to the royal blue,

the embroidery of the dragons on his shoulders and back relay his rank in the royal family. He counts the four claws on the dragons, wondering how the five claws on Yoongi’s overcoat must look. The servants remove Jimin’s hair ornaments and scrub the makeup from his cheeks,

leaving only a faint pink that looks like a rosy blush on his cheeks. They fit him with a formal hat, but it is not to the formality that he will wear in front of the public once he officially takes his vows as king consort of Joseon.

By the time that he’s been changed from his wedding attire into a formal gown fit for a coronation, nearly two hours have passed since the end of the wedding. It’s not early enough for dinner yet,

with the musical festivities in honor of the wedding still roaring to life in front of the court building. “Anyone want to play a game or two of gabo japgi?” he asks as he procures of deck of tujeon cards from a drawer in the anteroom.

After three games, two of which Jungkook won using pure luck and one that Seokjin won solely with determination, one of the servants calls for Jimin to return to the court building for dinner.

Jimin is accompanied by his closest servants back to the government buildings from the royal estate, hoping to catch sight of Yoongi. When he finally makes it to the court building, he finds that the king has already been here for approximately five minutes.

Jimin is guided to the front of the hall, now allowed to sit at the same table as his new husband, along with their closest friends and family. At the head of the table, Jimin stands next to Yoongi, who wears his most formal black robes.

All over his clothing are various symbols that represent the most important balances of yin and yang. His robes end just beneath his thighs, showing off his skirt with further embroideries and his formal shoes.

In addition, he wears his official crown that he’d worn during the ceremony, his brightly colored nine strings of beads hanging in front of his face.

The same master of ceremony from before, a high-ranking minister that Jimin doesn’t remember the name of, greets both newlyweds before he turns to the hall full of guests. “To celebrate the marriage between our most honorable king and his new husband,

the palace urges each guest member to eat freely. Following the feast,the coronation to elevate the honorable Park Jimin-mama to King Consort of Joseon will commence.” He proceeds to call the entire hall into a prayer,warding off evil spirits and bad omens from entering the hall.

With the official blessing finished, everyone begins eating. The hall turns lively quickly with the sound of guests chattering and the scrapping of silverware on ceramic. In front of Jimin and Yoongi sits an entire roasted pig,

which are carved for the newlyweds in joyous festivities. Seokjin and Taehyung quickly clear both servings for the royals to eat, before turning to their own plates.

Yoongi turns his head to take in Jimin’s royal attire, the sound of his beads clinking together, “You look gorgeous,” he says with his voice full of reverence, “I hardly believed that I was going to be the one marrying you this afternoon when I saw you in your wedding suit.”

Jimin feels pink dust his cheeks, grateful that the residual makeup blends with his skin, “I could say the same thing about you, my imperial majesty.” Yoongi smiles fondly. “Your myeonbok is more stunning up close. It’s so luxurious and ornament.”

“Don’t worry about removing it after the coronation, my servants will take care of the ceremonial robes,”Yoongi teases, though Jimin is certain it’s just to make him break out into a bright red,“Just focus on eating well tonight. You’ll need lots of strength for our night ahead.”

Dinner is a festive affair, Jimin eating far too much in all of the excitement of trying so many different dishes. While he still gets the best dishes while eating with the king,

the calling of head chefs from across the land give him new flavors from the different areas of Joseon. In addition to his main course with the meal, they’re also afforded numerous sweets such as dasik and yakgwa, both traditional wedding gifts.

Finally, everyone present at the wedding is given copious amounts of rice wine in celebration. Jimin goes easy on the alcohol, only so he remembers the words he’ll have to pledge at his coronation.

Spending an hour with his closet friends along with Yoongi’s most trusted advisors seems to create a permanent bond between the groups. By the time that the feast is coming to an end, Namjoon and Seokjin are leaning on one another’s shoulders, laughing like the oldest of friends.

Hoseok and Taehyung have been giggling together for the past ten minutes, cheeks bright pink. Even Jungkook seems to be making fast friends with Yoonji and her (yet-to-be-announced) fiancé.

“My peony,” Yoongi coos in a low voice as he leans over while the servants clear away the dishware, “Are you ready to pledge yourself to me forever?” “I thought I was pledging to you in private, after the coronation? Unless you’d like me to pledge to you in front of everyone?”

Jimin teases, the words tumbling out too quickly thanks to the rice wine. He barely even registers what he’s said until he can’t take them back.

He’s on the verge of apologizing when Yoongi’s gaze goes dark at the idea. “Don’t say such things when I am about to address the nation,” he warns swiftly, straightening in his seat while cursing under his breath.

Perhaps by the grace of the ancestors, Jimin is able to sober up enough once the guests of the wedding turn to witness the coronation. To begin the ceremony, Yoongi takes his proper place on the throne, the giant paper wall from the wedding removed

so everyone can see the phoenix throne. Next to the throne is a small altar that has been placed with necessary “offerings” from Jimin to Yoongi, though Jimin doesn’t actually know what the servants had put together for the coronation.

The master of ceremony then calls upon the ancestors of the Miryang Park clan to guide Jimin through health and prosperity before he asks for the Yeoheung Min clan ancestors to accept Jimin into their royal family lineage.

He then turns the attention to the highest minister of the Joseon government to present the oath scroll that Jimin must read from in order to assume his place next to Yoongi on the throne.

Namjoon comes from the side of the stage along with Hoseok, who will hold the scroll steady for Jimin to read. Jimin feels his heart hammering rapidly in his chest as Hoseok unfurls the scroll, which has been slightly doctored by Namjoon with the addition of hangul

next to most of the difficult hanja they haven’t studied yet. Thanks to both ministers’ dutiful guidance, Namjoon turns to hold his finger next to the characters that Jimin must read, ready to whisper the words for Jimin to recite aloud should his nerves render him mute.

After a few days of practicing the scroll and its contents with both Namjoon and Hoseok, Jimin feels fairly confident in his reading. He had practiced speaking with a loud, clear voice, enunciating enough that everyone can understand his oath.

“I swear before both our most revered king and the members of the royal court to uphold my position as King Consort of Joseon. I pledge my undying loyalty, respect, and commitment to our most holy sun, the King of Joseon and my husband, King Min-jeoha.

I will fulfill my duties to the king, regardless of health or sickness, in times of prosperity and in times of poverty. Before the people of our gracious land, the fertile lands of Joseon, to commit myself fully to improving the lives of those in our nation.

With blessings from the people, our ancestors, and the King himself, I solemnly present myself as a candidate for the role of King Consort of Joseon.”

With the final word from Jimin’s lips, a rush of relief overtakes him. Without so much as a hesitation or a single slip-up, he has fulfilled the most arduous task of becoming king consort. A big sigh escapes Jimin’s chest as Hoseok rolls the scroll back into its proper shape

while Namjoon motions for Jimin to head towards a small shrine next to the king’s throne. There, he lights an incense that is considered auspicious, before returning to face the phoenix throne itself.

Jimin gives four full bows, dropping to his knees and rising steadily each time. When the last bow is completed, Yoongi calls for him to step up the red steps and ascend the throne. With careful but confident steps, Jimin climbs the stairs.

“As King of Joseon,” Yoongi booms loud enough that everyone in the throne room can clearly hear him, “I bestow upon you, Park Jimin, the honor of becoming King Consort of Joseon and all the duties that may come with it.” He reaches up to remove Jimin’s formal hat,

before Namjoon hands him a new crown. He gently places the tall crown onto Jimin’s head, eight colorful strings of beads to match Yoongi’s nine.

With the crown sitting firmly on top of Jimin’s head, he can’t help the wide grin that breaks out on his face. His only saving grace is that instead of the entire court, he stares deeply into his husband’s eyes.

A moment passes between the two, before Jimin is turning back to face the crowd. He gives as deep of a bow as he can with the crown on, careful not to bend too far so as to lose his brand new crown.

After a quick word from the master of ceremony who thanks all of the guests for their participation in both the wedding and the coronation, the guests are finally dismissed for the evening. While the night itself is still young, the guests have been present for hours,

most ready to head home to relax for the rest of the day. Tomorrow will be a holiday for them, in celebration of the king’s marriage and the ascension of the king consort.

Jimin’s servants retrieve him from the elevated throne while Hoseok and Namjoon guide Yoongi away from the government buildings. The crowds thin out quickly, most people hurrying to try and get home while there is still the small splashing of sunset on the horizon.

The two groups quickly split off once they leave the government hall, despite the newlywed couple’s disappointment. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Jungkook recites from some line in a poem he’d read.

“They’re going to see each other in an hour,”Seokjin argues back while Jimin hurries his feet along. He doesn’t think he’s tried to cross the courtyard separating the government buildings and the royal palace since Princess Dahee sent him on all those useless errands 2 weeks ago.

“Gives them time to get excited,” Taehyung goads with a knowing raise of his eyebrows. “Is it considered heresy to talk about the king and his husband having sex?” Seokjin asks to peals of laughter from both Taehyung and Jungkook.

“I’m going to jump into the pond instead,” Jimin threatens as they round the edge of the pond that separates the two wings of the palace, wanting simply to disappear out of embarrassment,

“Have fun explaining that to the king.” “I guess losing your virginity in a public pond could be an option too,” Taehyung muses.

Jimin is undressed from his ceremonial robes by his closest friends. The robes themselves are given to lower-ranked servants of the royal dressers who package the outfit to be stored carefully in the late queen’s closet room. They remove his crown,

placing it on a mannequin that has been made especially for him out of a gorgeous lacquered wood. He is quickly dressed down, given a small bathing for his face, hands, and feet, and dressed in bedroom attire. He takes the robe that he wears to eat breakfast with Jungkook,

before everyone deems him ready to head over to the king’s new quarters. A little after the eight o’clock bell rings out across the palace grounds, Jimin is loaded into his gama for transport to the king’s chambers.

“There goes my baby,” Seokjin says as Jimin slides the door shut on the gama, “When I see him tomorrow, he’ll hopefully be limping.” There’s a soft rustle of fabric as someone shoves at Seokjin’s arm.

“Hey, the king could be the one limping too,” Taehyung says. “Have fun!” Jungkook calls as the servants take the gama towards the king’s chambers.

chapter tags // - nsfw

- loss of virginity - top yoongi - mention of scars

The king’s quarters are like nothing that Jimin has ever seen before. Jimin is quickly ushered off by Yoongi’s personal attendants into the building that houses the king’s personal chambers.

While Jimin’s quarters consist of mostly his bedroom for sleeping, an anteroom for eating, studying, and relaxing, and a dressing room, the king’s are far more vast. He has sitting rooms, tea rooms, an entire library, and multiple rooms to receive guests.

However, Jimin bypasses all of them, guided towards the back of the king’s chambers by the two attendants. “Your most imperial majesty,” the higher ranking attendant calls, “Your husband has arrived.”

On the other side of the paper wall that separates the hallway from the bedroom, Yoongi calls out simply, “Allow him entrance. Then, dismiss yourselves and anyone remaining from my chambers for the rest of the night. Should anyone trespass, they shall not see the morning light.”

The two attendants give Jimin a full bow before they scurry off, leaving Jimin to lift a shaky hand and slide open the paper door that separates him from Yoongi.

“Your most imperial majesty,” Jimin says with a full bow, nerves beginning to settle in, “I humbly-” “Jimin-ah,” the king says sharply, “What did I promise you on that evening we walked through the courtyards together?” Jimin slowly lifts his head,

breath catching in his throat as he sees the king. Yoongi is dressed in only a white sleeping robe, his blonde hair fully loosened from its usual topknot style. He beckons Jimin in with a wave of his hand, which Jimin follows without even thinking about it.

Jimin closes the door behind him, trapping the two in the king’s chambers alone, for the rest of the night. “You won’t call me ‘your imperial majesty’ ever again. Now, come over here.”

Jimin rises to wobbly legs, crossing the room to reach Yoongi who stands next to his bed. “Hyung,” Jimin says with a timid voice, the exact opposite that he’d used just hours ago during his coronation, “Will you be gentle?” Yoongi takes Jimin’s hand,

guiding him towards the bed before he carefully helps Jimin to sit on the mattress. “My peony, you don’t need to be nervous,” he says in a soft voice, coming to sit next to his husband, cupping Jimin’s jaw in his hand, “I promise to cherish you for the rest of our lives.”

Slowly, the king leans in, until his lips brush Jimin’s. The first kiss is gentle, sweet. Yoongi’s lips still feel the same as they had before, nothing to be scared or nervous about. With the second kiss, Yoongi reaches forward, digging his fingers into Jimin’s short black locks.

With a gentle tilt of Jimin’s head, Yoongi pushes his tongue past Jimin’s lips, opening him up even further. For a few moments, the two do nothing but kiss, savoring in the sweetness that they won’t be interrupted this time.

After a minute passes of soft, tame kisses, Yoongi gradually deepens them. He kisses hungrily, passionately as he leans forward. Jimin is gently pushed to the mattress, the king continuing to take all that he wants from Jimin’s lips.

After another heavy kiss, the king pulls away to lavish kisses all over Jimin’s neck. He nips and sucks greedily, determined to mark Jimin’s skin as his own for everyone to see. His marks from a few days ago have only barely faded this morning, yet he replaces them with new ones.

The passion has Jimin squirming beneath the king, heat flooding throughout his body at how eagerly the king peels him apart. While Yoongi continues to worship his husband’s skin, his fingers find the simple ties on Jimin’s sleeping jeogori,

unfastening it and tugging open the white fabric. His long, pale fingers quickly roam over the exposed tanned skin, pinching and tugging at Jimin’s dark nipples just to make gasps and moans fall from his lips. It only takes a few brushes of Yoongi’s fingers over his chest

before he’s bucking his hips, chasing the feeling of something more. “Hyung,” Jimin whines softly as he writhes beneath the king,“You too. I wanna touch.” Yoongi pulls himself away from Jimin’s neck, which must now be red with hickeys and love bites. “Is that informal language?”

he teases, taking the tie on his own robes and pulling them free to reveal his broad chest, “Such a good boy for me.” Jimin ignores the flush that Yoongi’s words send through his body, opting instead to pay attention to the pale skin that’s now visible to him.

He dips down to kiss at Yoongi’s neck, kisses trailing down his collarbone and over the expanse of his chest. In order to give him easier access, Yoongi lays down on the mattress next to Jimin, allowing him to straddle the king in order to properly lavish kisses over his skin.

There are numerous scars that crisscross all over the king’s body, from years of training and military excursions. Each of them, Jimin presses kiss after kiss to, worshipping the king beneath him. Yoongi threads his long fingers through Jimin’s hair,

his chest heaving and soft groans escaping his lips. Every sound that the king lets out drives something deeper into Jimin’s heart, wanting to pull out every one he can. He wants to be greedy and keep them all for himself. As Jimin makes his way southward with his lips,

the king grows impatient. He hastily flips Jimin onto his back once again, before he fingers the tie that holds Jimin’s sleeping baji around his hips. “Jimin-ah,” the king says as he leans in to kiss Jimin’s lips sweetly, as though asking for permission,

“Let me love you as you deserve.” Jimin swallows hard, caged beneath the king in such a vulnerable state. He gives a single nod before Yoongi leans back to rid Jimin of his final piece of clothing. Jimin lays bare beneath the king,

time ticking by in the slowest of crawls while the king assesses his husband. “Fuck,” he curses as he comes to kiss at Jimin’s lips again, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” Inside of Jimin’s chest, his heart cries out in ecstasy. Nobody has ever looked at him the way the king does;

nobody has ever cherished him so thoroughly. Yoongi takes Jimin into hand, stroking him in a way that has Jimin’s head swirling. Left to the king’s touch alone, Jimin wraps his arms around Yoongi’s neck in an attempt to keep from losing himself too quickly.

“Oh hyung!” Jimin cries out, squeezing his eyes shut tight as his muscles tighten, “Ngh! It’s too much!” “Come for me, my sweet peony,” the king coos into Jimin’s ear. Jimin’s body spasms as he comes, spilling all over the king’s hand. He melts back onto the king’s mattress,

body slowly relaxing every muscle. “You’re perfect for me.” “Hyung,” Jimin whimpers as he cracks one eye open, pulling the king down for a thorough, filthy kiss, “You too, please.” Yoongi removes his own underpants, standing proud and erect as Jimin wraps a hand around him.

He quickly shuts his eyes in pleasure as Jimin strokes him with a similar speed, twisting his hand in the same way. He watches Yoongi’s face shift as pleasure takes him over, until the king is on the verge of orgasm. “Come for your peony,Yoongi.” The king comes with a loud groan,

burying his face into Jimin’s shoulder as he rides out the waves. They lay in blissful silence for only a moment while Yoongi regains himself. “You’re... something,” Yoongi pants as he reaches for a towel to clean themselves of their mess.

“Hyung, there’s more, right?” Jimin asks, reaching a hand up to gently card through the king’s long blonde hair, “I want you more.” Yoongi lets out a soft, endeared chuckle at the request, reaching up towards a low chest of drawers next to the bed.

There’s a small bowl that the king takes into his hand. “I have just begun with you,” he promises as he brings the bowl to the floor next to the mattress, “A handjob is hardly a consummation.” He dips his first three fingers into the liquid,

returning with a thick, viscous liquid that’s mostly translucent with just a hint of cream color. “What is that?” Jimin asks as Yoongi wipes the back of his knuckles into the bowl, just to stop the excess from dripping onto the royal bed.

“It’s a special mixture made from red seaweed that has been boiled to a slick liquid,” the king informs,“It will aid us tonight; and every night that we make love together.” Jimin watches with curious eyes as Yoongi lifts one of Jimin’s legs up to expose his most intimate areas.

“Hyung?” “Jimin-ah, do you trust me?” Jimin bites his lip as Yoongi gazes deep into his eyes. With a single nod, the king begins moving towards Jimin’s entrance, “I promise to you on my ancestor’s graves that I will not hurt you.” “I trust you, my husband,” Jimin says,

making Yoongi’s eyes flash with something deeply animalistic, something possessive. Yoongi’s fingers brush against Jimin’s skin, the lube cold against him in a way that has his toes curling at first. After smearing the skin with lube,

Yoongi’s finger presses against Jimin’s entrance, just as a test. “Jimin-ah, tell me if it hurts, please,” Yoongi begs, drawing another nod from Jimin, “Promise me, please.” “I promise, hyung,” Jimin vows. Yoongi’s first finger presses past the resistance,

sliding into Jimin’s tightness before he stops to let Jimin adjust. It’s strange, perhaps a bit uncomfortable, but nothing near painful. Yoongi watches Jimin’s reaction intensely, until Jimin says, “It’s okay, hyung. You can keep going.” Slowly, Yoongi begins to move his finger,

opening Jimin up. It’s only a few slides of Yoongi’s fingers before Jimin is looking deep into Yoongi’s eyes and begging, “More, please, hyung.” Yoongi adds a second, sliding them into his husband with fervor. Jimin focuses on trying to open up faster,

welcoming the third finger after a few moments. With the third finger, the king begins crooking the fingers slightly with each slide, the pleasure that such a change brings nearly making Jimin’s head swirl.

“Hyung,” Jimin pants as the king continues curling his fingers deep inside of Jimin, a bundle of sparks bursting at the base of his spine, “Oh! There!” Yoongi diligently continues to rub the pads of his fingers in just the right spot,

Jimin’s body clenching hard as he starts to reach another peak. “Hyung, please, just a little more!” Yoongi pulls his fingers from Jimin’s hole, drawing an immediate whine from Jimin’s chest. “I’m going to take you now,” Yoongi promises as he takes just a bit more of the lube

and coats his length in its slickness, “Finally prove to you why I am the only one you should love.” Jimin nods heartily as the two adjust their positions. Jimin lays back on the mattress, legs spread as Yoongi settles between them.

Naturally, Jimin lifts his legs to wrap around Yoongi’s waist, pulling him in closer, tighter. “Hyung, I need you, only you,” Jimin pleas, fingers digging into the king’s long blonde locks, “I need all of you.” Yoongi kisses Jimin deeply as he enters Jimin for the first time.

The king’s length is much thicker than his fingers, stopping Jimin’s breath in his throat. He barely notices he’s clenching until Yoongi presses a kiss to his cheek, whispering softly, “Breathe, my peony, it’s alright.” Jimin nods, forcing himself to relax once again,

allowing his husband to fill him. When Yoongi has bottomed out, they both wait for a moment, simply counting the breaths they take. “Hyung, my king, I’m ready,” Jimin says as Yoongi steals a quick kiss. The first thrust makes Jimin’s breath catch,

stealing the air from his lungs forcefully. Yoongi starts a languid pace, simply enough to let Jimin finish stretching around him. When the thrusts become easier, the slide begins to feel more pleasurable.

Still, Jimin chases that jolt of lightning that had come from Yoongi’s fingers before, knowing that just the right angle would give him exactly what he needs. Yoongi keeps fucking Jimin, their moans growing in pitch and frequency. It feels like they’ve only just begun,

when Jimin’s hands fall to the mattress beneath him, digging his fingers into the fabric. “Hyung,” Jimin pants, “Please, just a little bit more, I need it, please hyung!” The king slightly adjusts the angle of his hips, drawing a loud, hearty moan from Jimin’s lips.

With each thrust of his hips, the king hits that spot he’d found with his fingers earlier, driving Jimin almost mad with pleasure. He barely registers his own voice as he hurdles towards his orgasm, words falling from his lips without much thought.

Mindless begging punctuated by high-pitched moans. “So fucking close,” Yoongi grits out as he chases his own orgasm using Jimin’s body, “Gonna come!” “Me too, Yoongi!” Jimin squeezes his eyes shut as he lets himself fall over the edge of the precipice.

He clenches tight around his husband’s cock, bliss settling into his veins as he feels Yoongi mark his insides with his seed. As Yoongi lets his own orgasm take over him, he buries his nose into Jimin’s neck, muffling his moan against Jimin’s skin. They both catch their breath,

chests heaving with how quickly they suck in air desperately. The king slowly pulls his dick out, Jimin already feeling empty without him. Jimin digs his fingers into the king’s locks, pulling him in for a searing kiss. “Hyung,” Jimin says as he regains his breath, “I love you.”

A prideful smirk takes over the king’s face as he dips down to capture his husband’s lips greedily. “I love you too, Jimin-ah,” he says softly, “The night is still young, my peony. And this is only the beginning of the rest of our lives.” “We can again?” Jimin confirms,

excitement beginning to thrum through his veins. With a nod of his head, the king pulls back only to guide Jimin onto his hands and knees. The 2 waste no time before Yoongi is sliding back in, hips picking up the rhythm that he’d started what feels like both moments and eons ago.

“Hyung, right there, please!” “Anything for you, my peony,” Yoongi promises as he fucks harder than before, in the exact spot that has Jimin’s mind melting away, “Anything.”

chapter tags // - nsfw

- prostate milking - yoonmin are just on "honeymoon" and fucking repeatedly

Jimin blinks awake at the sound of morning birds chirping and the bright morning light bleeding in through the paper walls. He tries to move his arm,only for immediate pain to settle in, a soreness that he hasn’t felt in quite a while blossoming through his muscles.

He feels like he’s been thrown off a horse or perhaps run through the press that rice is milled with. He groans softly as he tries to sit up, only to realize that his skin is absolutely covered with red marks.

“You’re awake, my peony,” the king says as he looks up from a small desk on the opposite side of the room, “How are you feeling?”

“Like a hundred gwan of rice hit me,” Jimin reports as he flops back uselessly on the bed, body unwilling to move much with how stiff he feels, “What are you doing right now?”

“I’m simply reading through some government documents,” Yoongi informs as he rises from the desk and returns to the bed. He wordlessly flops down onto his stomach next to Jimin, immediately taking Jimin’s lips with a deep kiss. “Rather be doing you instead though.”

Jimin doesn’t remember how many times they made love last night. How many times he’d come at the urging of the king. Perhaps six? Seven? He barely even remembers every position the king had taken him in. Yet still, when the king holds him in such a way,

steals his breath with every kiss, he is powerless to fight the feeling inside. He threads his fingers into Yoongi’s long hair, pulling and angling him against Jimin’s lips. “I am sore, my king,” Jimin reports, “But I want you more.”

The king gives a low chuckle, deep and dark in a way that has something sinful stirring in his lower belly, “I can be gentle.”

Yoongi brings the bowl of red seaweed slick to the bed, dipping two fingers into the mixture. This time, when he angles Jimin’s legs so to expose his entrance, Jimin does not feel any apprehension. After such an eventful night, Jimin is still relatively open,

though the addition of the lube is welcomed. Yoongi slides two fingers in without much resistance, the opposite hand wrapping around Jimin’s cock to stroke him with even, steady pumps.

After only a few thrusts of his fingers to ensure that Jimin is loose enough, Yoongi angles his long, thin fingers to rub against the spot deep inside of Jimin’s body. The first circle of his finger pads has Jimin’s thighs twitching in ecstasy,

throwing his head back with a hearty moan. He doesn’t hold back letting the king know how his fingers feel, sweat beading on his hairline as Yoongi continues circling the spot inside of him. Yoongi makes quick,

deliberate swirls to drive Jimin to the brink quickly, his hand continuing to fist his dick in time with the fingers buried deep inside of Jimin.

Very quickly, the waves crest high inside of Jimin’s chest, spurred on by the way that Yoongi stares at him. As though he is putting on the most elaborate dance or reciting the sweetest poetry, the king watches in pure fascination as Jimin loses himself to pleasure.

“Hyung,” Jimin pants as he digs his fingers into the pillow beneath his head, thrashing softly in his husband’s embrace, “Oh it feels so good, please, hyung, I just need-!”

A long, drawn out moan falls from Jimin’s lips as he comes hard, clenching tight around Yoongi’s fingers. Even though he’s already stained his lower belly white, the king’s fingers do not abate. “Hyung!” Jimin cries as his body fights in confusion;

the relief from his orgasm clashing with the continued stimulation against his prostate. He squirms slightly, only to be held down by the king’s grasp. “Oh hyung, fuck, it’s too much!”

“You can do it, my peony,” Yoongi coos as he releases Jimin’s dick, but focuses all of his attention on the sensitive spot inside, “Let yourself go.” “Yoongi!” Jimin cries out loudly, voice echoing in the room at how his body tightens impossibly hard

with his second orgasm taking over his body. Every muscle in his body twitches violently at the pleasure, back bowing as he comes. With the continual milking, he feels like he’s been drained of all his strength.

When he falls back onto the bed, body completely strung out, there’s an incredibly meek knock at the door. It’s impossible that whoever is at the door didn’t hear Jimin’s lewd moan and the calling of the king’s personal name.

“Who fucking dares interrupt!?” the king growls out as Jimin stares at the white ceiling, far too listless to even move to cover himself.

“Y-your daybreak meal, your highnesses,” a voice comes, dredging up something inside of Jimin’s head. “Jungkook-nim?” Jimin questions, voice wavering as he looks at Yoongi, who procures a blanket to drape over his husband.

Jimin turns his voice soft enough that the sound does not leave the bedroom, “Hyung, I don’t mind if he enters. I’m actually quite hungry.” Yoongi looks hard into Jimin’s eyes before he sighs in defeat. “Jungkook-ah, you are allowed entrance.”

Jungkook slides open the paper door, purposely averting his eyes from the bed. Instead, he takes the tray full of vast amounts of food and places it on the desk. The entire time that he works, the king does not bother robing himself, as though to show off his manhood proudly.

Technically, Jungkook had seen Jimin only yesterday while bathing, but with all of the love bites littering his skin now, he holds the blanket firm against his body.

The attendant makes a show of tasting every dish before giving a small confirmation that all of the food is safe to eat, all while turning his back to the kings. By the time that he dismisses himself from the bedchambers,

the smell of food is wafting over to Jimin, turning his stomach ravenous, “Let’s eat, my husband.” Yoongi is on the verge of bringing the entire table over to him when Jimin heaves himself up despite his tired limbs.

“I can move, my king,” Jimin laughs softly at how willing his husband is to dote on him, “I need to gather up my strength if we are to fully take advantage of this rare holiday.”

Jimin cleans himself off before he makes his way over to the desk where Yoongi places a small floor cushion. There is a multitude of food for daybreak meal, many vegetables and a few different cuts of meat from the feast last night.

The two take their chopsticks and break into their meals, the food slowly giving them both strength and power to take on the day. “It’s a bit late for daybreak meal,” Jimin mentions as he sips his soup, “I wonder why they only brought it now.”

“He came earlier,” Yoongi informs, “but you were still sleeping. I asked for him to return in about an hour instead.” Jimin swallows his bit of soy marinated pork down hard, “That was very kind of you, my king.” The two eat for a minute in silence,

listening to the way that the palace works around them. There is still the ever-present sound of servants bustling around, even though it’s technically a rest day. “The wedding yesterday was...” Jimin is at a loss for words at the memory of the day, “It still feels like a dream.”

“You were gorgeous,” Yoongi says with a smile before adding cheekily, “My king.” The title has Jimin nearly choking on his soup. “Hyung!” Jimin exclaims as he rests his soup spoon on the table, “You can’t call me that!”

“Do you not remember the crown I put upon your head last night? Nor the words you pledged to the entire kingdom?” Yoongi asks with a cocked eyebrow, “Plus, as your husband, I am allowed to call you whatever praise I please.”

Jimin pouts in front of him at the tease, until Yoongi is laughing at Jimin’s plight. “I will stick with calling you my peony, how about that?”

“I’d prefer that,” Jimin appeases with a hearty blush on his cheeks. He takes a sip of the tea that has been prepared for them this morning with their meal, surprised by the sharp taste on his tongue. “Then, my peony, how do you feel about sharing bedchambers?” he asks.

“What do you mean?” Jimin asks as he takes another sip of tea, unable to help himself with how it tastes. It’s got enough spice in it to make him want to take another sip, followed by another, and then another.

“I was thinking, it’d be more convenient if we shared a bed,” Yoongi explains casually, “It’d be easier to have sex.” Jimin stops his hand mid-air with the tea between the desk and his lips, “You can’t...”

“I want you to move into these quarters,” Yoongi clarifies, “It would be annoying to call for my servants every time I want to fuck you. I’d be sending for you multiple times a night.” “Hyung!” Jimin exclaims at the blunt words,

“The king and queen always have separate bedchambers! It’s improper otherwise!” “It’s improper for the king and queen to share bedchambers,” Yoongi clarifies, “but that’s usually because most royal couples detest one another. By contrast, I enjoy your company.”

Jimin goes mute at the compliment, opting instead to take another sip of tea. “I see you like the tea this morning?”

“It’s very tasty,” Jimin admits, “I’ve never had anything like it.” The king gives a low hum in contemplation before he takes his own cup and sips at it. He gently sloshes it around in his mouth, analyzing the flavor.

Then, suddenly, he takes the entire cup and downs it as though it’s something to be drank all at once. “Hyung!?” “Drink it quickly,” the king urges as Jimin takes another large swig, “It’s a special tea made from gingko and ginseng.

I asked the kitchens to make it especially for our day together. They will bring it with each of our meals.” Jimin finishes off the tea diligently before returning to his rice.

“Why?” Jimin asks casually as he takes just a bit more food. He’s mostly full though after such a lavish meal. “Both are aphrodisiacs,” Yoongi explains simply, “Give them a few minutes to work and they’ll give you strength to make love for the rest of the day.”

Jimin stiffens at his floor cushion, though perhaps he should have expected such from Yoongi. Why else would the king insist on him drinking such a tea so readily? Jimin clears the dishes away from the table now that they’re both finished,

while Yoongi puts away his work from this morning. Jimin simply stacks the empty plates outside of the bedchamber doors, placing them on the wooden floor in the hallway of the king’s chambers.

Once the desk is fully cleared away, Jimin can feel the aphrodisiacs working on his body. He hasn’t exerted much effort at all, but still, sweat beads along his hairline. A hearty flush pumps through his veins as he closes the door to the bedchambers,

limbs feeling heavy with desire. Yoongi had been well informed when he’d told Jimin about the power that these two medicines hold. The two meet at the bed, though not a word has been exchanged.

Together, they tumble onto the mattress, drawn in by nothing more than pure, animalistic desire. They kiss frantically, licking into one another’s mouth, determined to pull all that they want from each other’s bodies.

Yoongi cages Jimin beneath him, using the strength of many years of training to hold his husband right where he wants him. “My peony,” the king pants between frenzied kisses, “I want you to take me.”

Jimin goes tense in shock, “Hyung, I-I can’t.” “You can,” Yoongi assures as he dives in for a passionate kiss, “I want it. I want to feel you inside of me.” Jimin shakes his head, “I don’t know how.” “Jimin-ah,” the king urges,

“I told you, I am a patient teacher. I will tell you everything.” “Hyung,” Jimin says quietly, biting at his bottom lip, “Later, please?” Yoongi looks deep into Jimin’s eyes, before he relents, “To celebrate your move into my bedchambers, then.

I will tell Namjoon and Hoseok to work on your move as quickly as possible.” Though it’s simply delaying the inevitable, Jimin feels a rush of relief exit his chest at the promise. “Until then,” the king turns their attention back to the present, “I need to fuck you right now.”

“Hyung please,” Jimin whimpers as the king takes another coating of lube onto his fingers, stroking himself with it to smear it over his cock. He quickly urges Jimin onto his side, lifting the supple thigh up with his hand and slides into Jimin.

After being taken so many times last night, fingered open this morning, it’s hardly a stretch at all for Jimin. With the king’s body pressed up against him from behind, all he can do is let the king have his way with him.

A/N: during the second part of the au, there will be significantly more angst and violence. additional major tags: - trust issues - attempted murder - various proposals for yoongi's heir - eventual happy ending reminder: major character death is not a tag

Married life is not all that different than unmarried life. Every morning, Jimin wakes in his chambers, eats breakfast with the king and Yoonji, before he heads to lessons with Hoseok and Namjoon. In the evening, he eats dinner with the king.

Frequently, he is called to the king’s chambers well after the last bell has rung for the evening, warming the king’s bed. Together, Jimin discovers pleasure he thought only possible in fairy tales.

Yoongi is a passionate lover, opting frequently to mark up his husband with love bites. It quickly becomes common to see Jimin fidgeting with a bright red spot on his neck or his jaw, courtesy of the royal king’s teeth.

Jimin takes to his lessons with ease once he gets the hang of his various studies. He can read simple passages without difficulty, though his own production is much slower and riddled with minute errors.

With Namjoon’s help, he slowly becomes proficient at hanja, surprising even himself with his skill. It is helpful that he’s also incredibly interested in the many volumes of poetry that Namjoon has in his office, flipping through them and trying to test his own skill regularly.

Even by the time that Jimin is passing one month of marriage with the king, he no longer flinches when someone addresses him with the highest honorifics. He doesn’t cringe when someone drops to their knees in a deep bow,

revering him with titles such as ‘your royal highness’ and ‘imperial majesty’. By the time that the sixth month of the lunar calendar rolls around, nearly three months of marriage with the king, Jimin has fully accepted his place within the palace.

Jimin takes to his sword lessons well, brandishing his weapon with ease by the time that the spring festival has come and gone. “You’re a natural, if I’ve ever seen one,” Hoseok beams as Jimin whacks at one of the training dummies,

“I can tell the king’s practice sessions with you have been fruitful.” Jimin blushes at the mention of his late nights with the king. With the warmth of summer fully enveloping the palace, the king has taken more evening walks with Jimin.

They take walks along the palace gardens, sometimes visiting the training grounds that Yoongi used to use as a child. Usually, their sparring matches riled the king up enough that he didn’t even allow Jimin to head back to his own quarters

before taking him to the king’s bedchambers. “Yoongi-jeoha is a good teacher,” Jimin defends weakly, hoping that he can exude the usual confidence he has taken on recently.

Hoseok, as a close friend though, sees through his posturing, “Sure sure, I bet he is.” Jimin wipes the sweat from his brow, staining his cotton hanbok sleeve with perspiration. “Hyung,” Jimin starts, mind beginning to churn with the mention of their king,

“Can I ask you something about my husband?” Hoseok leans on a wooden practice sword stuck straight up in the dirt. The minister cocks an eyebrow at the question, “Of course, but isn’t it something you want to ask Yoongi-jeoha instead?”

Jimin purses his lips as he takes his training sword into his hand and begins whacking at the training dummy, trying to dispel his nerves. When a few flecks of straw go flying out of the dummy’s shoulder, Jimin takes a step back again.

“My husband doesn’t tell me much about the workings of the court,” Jimin admits, the anxious desire to strike the dummy flaring up again, “I just...”

“Spit it out, Jimin-ah,” Hoseok urges, “We are alone in the training grounds. Speak your mind freely.” Jimin takes a deep breath in, knowing that Hoseok is right. In addition, there’s only one person in this entire palace who holds authority even above Jimin’s head.

“Yoongi-jeoha said on our wedding night that he wanted me to move into his chambers, but, he hasn’t moved forward with it yet.”

“Ah,” Hoseok drawls, sucking in his breath in a way that tells Jimin he might not like the answer, “You know, the court’s a mess these days.”

Jimin shakes his head, “No, I don’t know. My husband doesn’t tell me anything about it. Even when I ask, he simply kisses me until I stop asking.”

“Compared to how he’d treat anyone else for asking, that’s a fairly pleasant way to stop you from asking,” Hoseok jokes, but the mood doesn’t lift much, “Well, Yoongi-jeoha isn’t really a traditional king.” Above them, a crow caws loudly, as if to agree.

“He took the throne from his father by force and then forbade the government from enacting the typical mourning period. Then, he killed half of his father’s ministers with his own sword for refusing to deviate from the traditional steps that occur during a change in power.”

Jimin shudders as he imagines his husband steeped in blood, “That was over six months ago though, well before we married and before he mentioned moving my quarters.”

“Yeah, but that implies it’s easy to find ministers who are fit for the job and willing to agree with the king no matter what he says,” Hoseok explains, “He eliminated all three of his previously appointed councillors, cut their heads off in front of the entire state council

as a show of power.” Another shudder runs down Jimin’s back. “He wants to turn me and Namjoon into the left and right councillors, but neither of us have the tenure necessary as ministers to become councillors. So he’s fighting the political system, rewriting the laws and such.”

“And that takes over three months?” Jimin asks warily, though he doesn’t necessarily dismiss Hoseok’s answer.

“The rest of Joseon doesn’t stop,” the minister adds,“Taxation, civil servitude exams, justice system, etc. all continue to run as usual. Yoongi-jeoha took the throne at only 25; he’s quite a young king. He hadn’t been trained much by his father on the duties a king must endure.”

“But previous kings have been coronated as literal children,” Jimin counters, “King Chang was eight years old when he ascended the throne.”

“Those kings typically have their mothers, the queen dowager, to guide them or at the very least, a functional state council.” Jimin sighs as he processes Hoseok’s explanation. “Yoongi-jeoha is also trying to pass Yoonji’s engagement through the council.

He has repurposed the royal wedding directorate from your wedding to Yoonji’s, but there are extra rites and rituals that must take place in order to secure the marriage between Yoonji and her desired fiancé.”

“I didn’t know he was also dealing with that,” Jimin frets, realizing that he really doesn’t know much about what his husband does from day to day.

“You know Yoongi-jeoha; when someone disagrees with him publicly, they usually lose their heads. But finding qualified people to replace them is difficult. It drags the process on longer than it really ought to,” Hoseok laments,

“So in regards to your initial problem, I really think that the king hasn’t had time to put forth the men necessary to change the laws.”

Jimin sighs as he gathers up his sword and begins to whack at the dummy again, “I will give him time.”

That evening, Jimin stares at the now-familiar white ceiling of the king’s chambers. He’s still open after taking the king, yet he lays alone in the bed. “My love,” Jimin calls out as he flops onto his side, the blanket covering his lower half but displaying his chest,

“What are you doing now?” Yoongi looks up from his spot at the desk in his bedroom, where his brush is dipped in a fresh pot of ink, “Just working, my peony.”

Jimin presses his lips together in thought, before he grabs at the towel to clean himself with. When he is decently cleaned after tonight’s mess, he pads over to the desk, not bothering to dress himself. “Do you want to fuck again?”

Yoongi asks as Jimin takes a seat on another floor cushion next to the king. Jimin shakes his head, leaning over to gently rest his head on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Is there anything I can help you with, my husband?

You are always working so hard, surely there must be something I can do?” He can make out some of the characters on the scroll before him, but a number of the hanja are still a few steps above his level.

Yoongi stiffens in surprise against Jimin’s embrace at first, before shaking his head before he closes the scroll that he’s writing on. “Of course not, my peony. The only thing you should be doing is looking gorgeous for me,” he says before he moves to face Jimin,

taking his face into Yoongi’s hands. He brings his husband forward, kissing greedily at the plush lips. The determination behind his kiss leaves Jimin with little to counter, the king slowly inching them back towards the bed once again.

The next day, Jimin shows Namjoon his homework from the night before. While the minister is reviewing the characters he’d written last night, fixing some miniscule mistakes that change the entire hanja’s meaning, Jimin twirls his fingers in his lap.

“Namjoon-hyung, can I study some more practical hanja instead of poetic hanja?” Namjoon looks up from the small booklet that has become Jimin’s dedicated homework book, “What do you mean?”

“Stuff that’s used more in daily life,” Jimin explains, hoping to sound vague enough that he can skirt by the reasoning, “Things like legal documents and laws rather than how to describe the moon in fifteen different ways.”

Namjoon chuckles to himself, “In what world do you think studying legal jargon is more applicable than poetry?”

Jimin sighs heavily to himself, knowing Namjoon is far too smart to go along with Jimin’s plan blindly. “I want to help my husband with his work,” Jimin admits, feeling almost childish with his request, “So to do that, I need to study writing that pertains to the king’s matters.”

Namjoon stops his corrections midstroke, his brush spilling ink onto the page freely until it’s nearly soaked through the parchment. “Jimin-ah,” he warns softly, “Have you asked the king about such a proposition? I can’t imagine he’s approved such a request.”

“I haven’t,” Jimin admits, straightening his shoulders and trying his best to emulate confidence, “But I think if I approach him after learning how to write the ten thousand characters that utilize the radical for flower,

he won’t be willing. But if I told him that I know the characters for legal matters, he might be more apt to letting me assist.”

The minister looks forlorn, taking in a big breath and letting it out through his nostrils. “Jimin-ah, I warn you to be very careful in your endeavor. Yoongi-jeoha doesn’t take kindly to people trying to encroach on his power.

I think, perhaps, you are the only person in the entire world who could even attempt such a matter and keep your head on if it fails.” “There’s nothing in the law that says I can’t do this,” Jimin argues, “I just want to help relieve some of my husband’s burden.

Isn’t it a man’s duty to try and relieve his husband’s stress when possible?” “Of course there’s nothing in the law that says you are forbidden; you are the only king consort in the history of Joseon,” Namjoon clarifies, “but I just don’t think-”

The abrupt stop of the minister’s speech immediately piques Jimin’s interest. He narrows his eyes as he stares hard at Namjoon, trying to break down his will. “You just don’t think what?” Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose between his eyes,

as though trying to pray to the gods to take his words back. “The king loves you, that much is obvious,” he starts. “But?” “Gaining Yoongi-jeoha’s trust is almost akin to climbing to the heavens themselves,” Namjoon says.

Jimin fills in the unspoken part quickly. “You’re saying he doesn’t trust me?” Namjoon rolls his head from left to right, as though trying to figure out a way to tactfully explain his reasoning,

“There is a difference between trusting you to fulfill your husbandly duties and entrusting you with the most closely guarded secrets in the nation.”

Jimin mulls the words over in his head, before he admits that he agrees with Namjoon’s assessment. “So how can I gain his trust so that he will share his burden with me?” Jimin asks bluntly. “I don’t know, my king,” Namjoon admits,

“It’s not a matter of simply completing tasks like some sort of homework assignment. You must first prove your worth to him and then you can gain his trust. I don’t think there is a singular, nor easy, path to the king’s trust.”

“How did you and Hoseok-hyung gain my husband’s trust?” Jimin asks suddenly, curious to know more about the king’s closest confidants. Namjoon sets his brush down, “We were both major players in Yoongi-jeoha’s coup.

I organized the mission and Hoseok convinced the guards and staff members necessary. We didn’t ask why, we simply obeyed his orders as directed. I still don’t know why the coup was so sudden, but our skills both proved necessary and useful for the mission.”

Jimin takes a sharp breath in at the realization that Namjoon nor Hoseok know anything about Yoonji’s first betrothal. “I see,” Jimin nods, “I must find my own way then.”

chapter tw // - nsfw

- blowjob - public sex - spit as lube

That evening, Jimin waits around after dinner, fiddling with his fingers while he tries not to look like he’s keenly watching Yoongi. The king finishes his dinner, before folding his napkin properly in the manner that signals to the kitchen staff he’s finished.

“Is there something you’d like, my peony?” “Are you busy this evening, my love?” Jimin asks, “I’d like to go moon viewing with you if you have time.”

Yoongi shakes his head, rising from his seat with Jimin quickly following. By now, they both know how the evening ends when they go out for their long walks. “I can make time for you. We can meet by the estate gates after we’ve been dressed in more casualwear?”

Jimin finds the king about thirty minutes later, wearing a much more simple attire than his usual wardrobe. While he typically wears layer upon layer of intricately woven satin or delicately embroidered silk, he dresses down for their evening walks.

Now, he dresses in only a set of black casual wear beneath a royal red overcoat. Even his hair has been slightly relaxed from its normal topknot into a style that allows his luxurious blonde hair to cascade over his shoulders.

Likewise, Jimin has been dressed into a deep navy pair of jeogori and baji, draped with a fine turquoise silk overcoat.

“My peony,” Yoongi coos as he extends an arm out for Jimin to grab onto, “You look absolutely stunning.” Jimin locks his arm around Yoongi’s, intertwining their fingers together as they walk out of the royal family’s estate.

The best place for moon viewing in the palace is in the largest pond, just off to the far east part of the gardens. While the pond that separates the royal estate from the government buildings is beautiful, Jimin moves them towards the eastern garden. It’s far more secluded.

The two walk along the pathways of the royal gardens, listening to the sound of insects coming alive as the moon rises. Beneath their feet, gravel crunches with each step. The warmth of early summer envelops them, just on the cusp of being too hot.

Perhaps in only a few weeks, it’ll be too hot for the two of them to consider walking so close to one another. “Hyung, how have things been progressing with the court?” Jimin asks as he rubs his thumb against the back of Yoongi’s pale hand.

“Fine,” Yoongi lies, “Nothing of interest, my love.” Jimin purses his lips together as they walk along the tall trees, their branches plunging them into a private world, “There are no problems with any of the ministers? They are all good, obedient men?”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow as he takes in his husband next to him, “Don’t worry about it, my peony.” Jimin sighs, figuring that he won’t get anything out of his husband like this. He’ll have to move onto step two of his plan. “Summer seems to be on its way,” Jimin changes the topic

while they make their way to the pond. The two make small talk about the weather as they come to the pond. In the center of the pond is a small pavilion, connected to the mainland by a narrow bridge.

They cross the bridge, coming to a large wooden bench that the two can rest on. It’s big enough that they can easily relax on it, even laying down flat to fully extend their muscles. Being part of the royal grounds means that the pyeongsang is beautifully lacquered

to ensure its smooth texture. The wooden roof that covers it is painted in vivid colors, each brushstroke meticulously taken to ensure the crispest lines.

The moon is on the far eastern end of the pond, the steady music of crickets filling their silence. Yoongi stretches his back out on the wooden bench, staring at the ceiling while Jimin allows him a moment to relax. When the king finally rises back up to a seated position,

Jimin scoots over to his side, gluing himself against his husband’s body. “Hyung,” Jimin coos as he takes Yoongi’s hand into his own, “I worry about you.”

“Why?” Yoongi asks as he looks over at Jimin. He does not continue as he takes in his husband before him, his eyes flickering up and down Jimin’s body. Jimin hoods his eyes, trying to put on a sultry gaze, slowly fluttering his lashes sensually.

In a way, Jimin feels a bit ridiculous until Yoongi’s gaze dips down to Jimin’s thick lips, the king swallowing hard as he stares at them. “You work too hard,” Jimin notes as he leans in to kiss the king deeply, “I want to share your burden with you.”

Yoongi brings one hand up to cup at Jimin’s jaw, but Jimin doesn’t allow him to take the lead like he so often does. Instead, Jimin grabs at the king’s duramagi, fingers deftly untying the ribbon and allowing it to reveal the king’s black jeogori.

“Let me help you relieve your stress,my love.” Yoongi allows Jimin to control their kisses, before Jimin climbs onto his husband’s lap. They kiss passionately as Jimin’s fingers reveal more of his husband’s pale skin. Skin marred by years of battles, both physical and emotional.

Yoongi gasps as Jimin pinches a nipple, Jimin dipping his lips down to kiss at Yoongi’s neck. For a few moments filled with the sound of Yoongi’s heavy breathing mixing with the sounds of nature, Jimin simply focuses on his husband.

“When did you become so forward, my Jimin?” the king pants as Jimin’s fingers drift ever southward. Jimin bites down gently into the king’s skin, marking Yoongi has done to him so many times, “I am only trying to prove to you how I can serve you, should you let me, my husband.”

Yoongi lets out a low groan as Jimin laves his tongue over the mark he’s just created on the king’s skin. “I pledge myself to you and only you for the rest of our lives.”

Yoongi’s breath catches on a moan, “G-Good. As you should.” “I want to show you how much I love you,” Jimin promises as he gently pushes Yoongi back down onto the wooden bench, “How much I promise to be loyal to you.”

Yoongi’s head thumps against the wooden bench as Jimin reaches his hand down to cup Yoongi through his pants. The king draws in a sharp breath as he groans at the touch, eyes fluttering shut as Jimin works. “Hyung,” Jimin calls as he leans down to kiss at the king’s chest,

tongue flicking out when he ghosts over Yoongi’s nipple, “Do you trust me?” Yoongi nods as Jimin pulls on the tie that keeps Yoongi’s pants tight around his hips, shimmying them down so as to free his dick. Jimin quickly takes him into hand, his stout fingers stroking Yoongi

in the way he likes. After the past few months, Jimin has become quite in tune with exactly how to touch his husband, learning the exact tempo and pressure that brings him the most pleasure. “Jimin-ah,” Yoongi moans beneath the touch, “I-I didn’t bring the seaweed mixture.”

Jimin shakes his head as he slides his kisses further down, “Hyung, I asked you a question.” A full body shiver runs down Yoongi’s spine at Jimin’s deep, heavy voice, “Do you trust me?”

“Of course, my peony,” Yoongi promises as he reaches a hand down to thread into Jimin’s black locks. A smirk tugs at the corner of Jimin’s mouth, watching as Yoongi’s adam’s apple bobs with a swallow.

Jimin shuffles down until he’s level with Yoongi’s dick, continuing to stroke just enough to tease, but not enough for true pleasure. He doesn’t waste time contemplating or fretting before he leans forward to lick his tongue along the underside of the shaft.

Above him, Yoongi lets out a loud moan, his muscles slowly relaxing as Jimin does it again. “Hyung, you’re so noisy,” Jimin chides gently as he presses a filthy, open-mouthed kiss against the base tongue flicking at the sensitive skin teasingly, “Everyone will hear you. But...”

Yoongi’s fingers massage gently at the back of Jimin’s head, mostly scratching in a way to keep himself in the here and now. Jimin pulls back to kiss at the head, flicking his tongue out and giving the tip soft kitten licks. “Perhaps you’d like everyone to hear?”

“Oh fuck,” Yoongi groans as his nails dig into Jimin’s scalp. “You’d like everyone to look over here and see how I pleasure only you, correct?” Jimin guesses as he coats the tip in saliva, “Knowing that they will never get to have me?”

“How could you know...” Yoongi mutters as Jimin gives him another hearty lick with the flat of his tongue. “I listen, hyung,” Jimin teases, “I pay attention to the things nobody else does. I can be more than just arm candy.”

Yoongi’s fingers push Jimin back to worshipping his dick instead, Jimin licking his lips once before he wraps them around the tip. He quickly fills his mouth with the king’s cock, listening as a loud moan tears out of the king’s chest.

“Fuck, Jimin-ah!” The king pushes him down further, stretching his mouth full until he’s hitting the back of Jimin’s throat. Finally, his lips hit his fingers wrapped around the base of the king’s dick.

Jimin takes it easily, almost naturally in a way. When his mouth is full, he pulls back to the tip, only to slide right back down again. He tries to create something of a rhythm with his mouth, similar to the ones that Yoongi sets when they make love in the king’s chambers.

It’s not difficult, but Jimin isn’t quite as skilled at the task as he’d thought. The king always made it look almost effortless. After a few slides of his lips over the king’s dick, he starts to figure out his own rhythm. Beneath him, Yoongi is starting to fall apart,

his other hand coming to tangle in Jimin’s hair as well. With both hands on the back of Jimin’s head, the king slowly starts to press him forward further, faster. He’s fighting Jimin’s rhythm with his own, trying to take over.

Jimin pulls off as his hand resumes pumping Yoongi’s dick. “My love,” Jimin says, surprised at the way his voice sounds different from the act, “You said you trusted me.”

Yoongi cranes his neck up to stare deep into Jimin’s eyes, before he nods slowly, “I do.” Jimin goes back to his task, using his own rhythm as Yoongi lays back onto the bench. After a few slides of his lips over the length, Jimin removes the hand he’d been stroking the king with.

He brings the fingers even lower, the skin dripping with saliva. Yoongi goes stiff beneath him as Jimin smears the liquid against his entrance. “My husband, do you remember your promise to me on our wedding night?” Jimin quips,

pressing his fingers against the tight muscle just to tease, “I cannot take you tonight, since it is not our time to celebrate yet. Think of this as simply a taste.”

Jimin returns to his task of sucking Yoongi’s cock, while his first finger enters the king. Yoongi’s fingers flex against the back of Jimin’s head before they fall away, digging into the now-discarded fabric of his overcoat. He simply allows Jimin to bring him pure pleasure,

moans falling from his lips without care. Should anyone hear them, it wouldn’t take much to guess what kind of ecstasy the king is indulging in. “Jimin-ah, my love,” Yoongi pants, “I’m so close, fuck! Your fingers! Right there!”

Jimin finds the spot inside of his husband that has lightning jolting down his spine. He twitches beneath Jimin’s body as he quickly hurdles towards the edge. One pale hand comes to tangle in Jimin’s locks, thrusting hard as he quickly fills Jimin’s mouth with bitter seed.

Obediently, Jimin swallows, unable to pull away as the king spills into his mouth. He continues fingering the king as he rides out his orgasm, until his thighs are twitching and he pulls away. Laying splayed out on the wooden pyeongsang, Yoongi lets bliss wash over him.

“Tell me, what did you do with my husband?” “Hmm?” Jimin hums as he begins gently tucking his husband away, “What do you mean, my king?” Yoongi brings one hand up to cup the back of Jimin’s head, holding him just so that he can get his full look,

“My shy husband has turned into quite a coquettish devil. Surely this cannot be the same man who refused to look into my eye only four months ago.” Yoongi has an amused smile on his face as he admires.

“I have grown immensely,” Jimin counters, “I have taken every lesson you have so graciously given me as seriously as my devotion to you. I live only to serve you, my king, in any way you could possibly need.” A soft smile twitches at the corner of Yoongi’s mouth as he sits up

only to capture Jimin’s lips in a kiss, “You have done so well, my peony.” “Hyung,” Jimin whines softly as the king rubs his thumb lovingly against the base of Jimin’s skull, “I want to help more. I want to become of use for the nation more than just warming your bed.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow in something perhaps similar to pity at the request, eyes searching deep inside of Jimin for any hint of hesitation. “You can’t,” the king says sadly, voice so quiet and sad that it feels even worse than if Yoongi had been harsh with him.

Inside of his chest, Jimin feels pain grip his heart, squeezing him tight until his jaw is trembling with tears of disappointment forming at the corners of his vision. “My love,” Yoongi appeases as he brings his hand to wipe at Jimin’s tears with his thumb,

“You cannot just become a member of the court without training. You must study for many years in the legal statues and the laws of Joseon first.”

“I am no longer a member of the cheonmin class anymore, correct?” Jimin forces, willing himself not to cry in front of the king so blatantly, “So I can study for the civil servant exams and become a minister in my own right, yes?”

Yoongi looks forlorn at Jimin’s suggestion, “My peony, it takes most students many years to study-” “Most students do not have such skilled teachers such as Jung-minister and Kim-minister and Jungkook-nim, not to mention, the King of Joseon himself,” Jimin argues back,

“They do not gain motivation every time that they see their husband bear so many burdens on himself every day. Will you allow me to take on this task, so as to aid you, my love?”

Yoongi looks into his eyes for a long time, the sound of nature filling in the loud silence between the two. In the far off distance, a large bird of prey caws, its shriek piercing through the air. Still, time crawls between them as Yoongi looks at Jimin’s determined expression.

Behind his brown eyes, Jimin can almost see all of the millions of thoughts racing around in the king’s head. “My Jimin,” he says gently after eons, “I’m glad my intuition was right when I proposed to marry you in the throne room all those months ago.”

“So you’ll let me study?” Jimin asks, trying not to get his hopes up. “I will allow you to study,” Yoongi promises, “but not take the civil servitude exams. Those are much too tedious and a waste of your time. If you can prove to me your aptitude for politics,

I will find a place for you in the court myself. If any minister disagrees...” The way that Yoongi trails off tells Jimin all that he needs to know about the future of a politician who disagrees with the king. “I promise I will study diligently!” Jimin surmises,

leaning forward to give his husband a hearty kiss in appreciation. “Not so diligent that you decline invitations to my bedchambers,” Yoongi warns, “And you must remember to keep up with your swordsmanship lessons with Hoseok. But I will revisit moving your quarters to mine,

thanks to your reminder earlier.” “Hyung, I won’t let you down,” Jimin assures, “I promise you won’t regret letting me study.” “Of course not, my love,” Yoongi affirms as he pulls Jimin in for a quick kiss, “I will never regret anything with you.”

chapter tags // - nsfw

- rough sex - mention of murder - rage

Studying is draining in a way that Jimin hadn’t expected. Upon being told that he will be allowed to study for law, Namjoon’s curriculum had been swiftly revised to focus heavier on both the writings necessary for politics,

but also beginning to work through the necessary law books. While it was a daunting task to learn how to read and write every piece of information in the books, it was another to memorize every piece of minute detail. Jimin has to commit every piece of law to memory,

such as the exact percentage of tax to be collected for 1 gwan to 10 gwans of rice, 10 to 50 gwans of rice, and 50 or more gwans of rice. Of course, the percentages are completely arbitrary, but Jimin needs to be able to instantly recall each facet of law without delay.

Namjoon gives him hearty amounts of homework each day, along with the necessary laws and regulations that he is to memorize for the night. The following day, he is given an oral exam, before he is given a weekly exam that encompasses everything from the previous week.

It feels a bit like Jimin’s head is spinning by the time that he’s retiring to his chambers for the night with a heavy law book. The first time that he asks Jungkook for help with his homework, only for his faithful attendant to narrow his eyes and declare,

“I don’t know what that hanja means,” has Jimin wanting to bury his head in the sand. “Now I understand why noble men spend so many years studying,” Jimin laments as he tips over from sitting in front of his desk, rolling onto his stomach on the wood floor, “This is impossible!”

“I can’t say I envy you,” Jungkook says as he deals out a deck of tujeon cards in front of himself, “When I studied, I learned mostly literary texts, though I never sat for any of the gwageo exams.” “I just can’t believe that if a thief steals a pig in Gangwon province

that he is sentenced to one year of labor, while if he stole that same exact pig in Gyeonggi province that it’d be three years of labor.” Jimin complains. For a long moment, there is silence while Jimin sits up and forces himself to continue reading his law books.

Eventually though, in an attempt to avoid studying any further, Jimin asks, “So how did you come to live in the palace?” His head is already starting to pound and he has at least another page to study for his daily test tomorrow with Namjoon.

“My mother was a gisaeng here as a young lady and she met my father here,” Jungkook explains, “and she told me about her life at the palace. My mother was also a member of the cheonmin class, just as you were, before my father saw her entertaining in the palace.

He liked her enough that he made her his concubine.” “She must have enjoyed her experience well enough if she encouraged you to pursue employment here as well,” Jimin surmises. “Not really,” Jungkook says with a casual shoulder shrug,

trying to appear unaffected and nonchalant about his mother’s true experience, “Have you been outside of the palace since you came here as a child?” Jimin shakes his head, “There’s no point for me to. I don’t have any money nor reason to venture out into Hanseong.

Or, I guess I didn’t have much point before.” “It’s difficult to carve a path for yourself in the city without your father’s help. Most men tend to learn their father’s craft and take up their family’s business. Butchers teach their sons how to dress meat,

shoemakers learn from their father. Since I can’t follow in the footsteps of my father, I chose to take the path my mother made instead.” Jimin nods as he looks at his book again. In a way, he’s glad that he never had to worry much about his place in the world.

Being at the bottom meant that he never had to think much about his status in society like Jungkook, Seokjin, and Taehyung had to. “Can I ask you something personal, your imperial majesty?” Jungkook asks after a moment of silence.

“Only if you don’t call me your imperial majesty again,” Jimin laughs, perhaps finally understanding why Yoongi had been so adverse to the term for so long. “What did you want your future to be? Had you not married the king?” Jimin purses his lips together in thought,

trying to remember what his mentality had been as a servant. He’d always been concerned with making it through that day, living only in the moment. As a servant, he’d never been burdened with the stress of the future. “I guess I didn’t really have any plans,” Jimin says,

“I didn’t have any family, no home, no prospects for marriage. The day the king said he’d marry me was the first time I ever thought about a time further than the following day.” Shortly after, Jimin returns to his books while Jungkook plays a few rounds of gabo japgi by himself.

For 2 weeks, Jimin throws himself into his studies. He spends most evenings with a candle burning in his room well after the sun has set, memorizing the entirety of Joseon law. On his 3rd week of studying, he’s almost grateful that he doesn’t share quarters with his husband yet.

He’d simply never get a lick of studying done if he was constantly in the presence of Yoongi. It's been a month since Jimin began studying when he’s sitting inside of Namjoon’s office,

studying today’s law on the necessary rituals that must be performed during a minister change in the court. He can only imagine how many times the following rituals have been performed in the past few months since Yoongi took over. There’s a loud commotion outside,

pulling Jimin from his books and Namjoon from the government paperwork he’s currently nose deep in. “Um, should we go see what happened?” There’s shouting that’s coming from the center of the government buildings, but it’s unclear who is yelling or what they’re screaming about.

Namjoon quickly grabs his sword from beside his desk, “Jimin-ah, stay behind me.” Jimin’s heart races quickly in his chest, thumping so hard that it might burst out of his ribcage. Blood rushes in his ears as the commotion begins to draw closer.

Fear churns in his gut as Namjoon grabs onto the hilt and readies himself to draw the blade. “Where is Park Jimin-mama!?” the sound of someone yelling comes from the other side of the paper walls, lurching Jimin’s heart straight into his throat.

The door to Namjoon’s office opens just as he draws his sword out, pointing it straight at the person who has slid the door open. A meek looking man, skinny with thinning hair, stares directly at the tip now pointed at his neck. “Who are you?” Namjoon demands icily,

purposely keeping the man from entering. “Why do you demand for the King Consort?” “Our lord king, of the sun itself, demands for him!” the man, Jimin now recognizes his outfit as one of a servant’s,“He demands for the King Consort to meet him in his royal quarters immediately!”

Namjoon does not abate though, pressing the sword closer to the servant, “With which authority do you come from? Why does the king request his husband now, when the rest of court is in session?”

Jimin’s stomach fills with ice as he realizes Namjoon is checking to make sure that nobody is luring Jimin into a trap to harm him. “Court is no longer in session!” the servant informs, his screeching voice beginning to grate on Jimin’s nerves,

“The king has cut court short for the rest of the day; he has slain a minister in front of everyone else. He has requested personally for the King Consort to meet him in his quarters immediately. He does not even wish the King Consort to be dressed formally for him.

He is quite angry, Kim-Minister! If you delay his husband from entering his quarters, there’s no telling what King Min might do!” Barely a second later, there’s the sound of another person dashing up the tall steps to Namjoon’s office. “Jimin-mama!”

Jungkook’s familiar voice calls out, severely out of breath and his hair windswept from running, “You’re being called to the King’s chambers immediately!” Namjoon lowers his sword as he accepts the unfamiliar servant’s word as safe.

“Head back to the court, ask for Jung-Minister to join me here when is most convenient for him.” The servant takes off. Jimin begins to pack up his supplies when Jungkook grabs at his sleeve. “Don’t bother with that,” Jungkook insists, “the king wants to see you immediately.

I’ll come gather your supplies afterwards. Namjoon-hyung, the king has asked for you to postpone your test tomorrow.” “What is going on?” Jimin asks as Namjoon nods in understanding, Jimin being dragged out of the office by his attendant.

Jungkook hurries him along through the various halls and courtyards that surround each office in the government buildings. “Why is the king demanding to see me in the middle of the day like this?” “He’s angry,” Jungkook informs,

“Something must have happened in the court for him to set off like this. I don’t know what it is, but it must be something serious for him to act like this.” Jimin swallows hard as they make their way to the royal estate,

winding around the pond that separates the two sections of the palace. Why would Yoongi order him to his chambers if he’s so angry? What could Jimin possibly do to alleviate his anger? It’s not a secret that Yoongi’s temper is something fearsome,

but it’s something that Jimin has never had the unpleasantness of seeing besides when he’d announced their marriage. He feels fear settle into his heart as the two quickly make their way to the king’s chambers. Before they even make it to the king’s quarters,

they hear the screaming from the king. Loud curses and shouts, the occasional explicative, but it’s all unhelpful in understanding the situation. “Those fuckers have some nerve! How dare they flap their lips so uselessly?

I’ll rip all their heads off for even suggesting something so moronic!” Jungkook looks visibly terrified as he guides Jimin down the hall in the king’s quarters until they’re in front of the door that separates them from the most powerful man in the nation.

“Your imperial majesty, I present his holiness, Park Jimin.” The cursing stops for a moment as the king’s footsteps echo on their way to the door. The king slides the bedroom door open, his eyes taking in Jimin in front of him. With a very calm nod, he dismisses Jungkook.

“Come inside, my love.” Jimin’s hands shake as he enters the king’s bedchambers. He’s incredibly familiar with the room now after spending so many evenings here, but the air is tense. It feels stiff and harsh with the way that the king’s rage is so clear.

But Jimin barely gets a moment to breath before Yoongi is pressing up against his back, diving in to kiss hungrily and greedily along his neck. “Taste just as sweet as you did last night.” “Hyung, why did you demand for me?” Jimin asks with a wavering voice,

trying to conceal his fear from his husband’s rage, “I heard court was cut short.” Yoongi stiffens against Jimin, before he harshly grabs onto Jimin’s jaw and pulls him in for a rough kiss. “Those fucking bastards will all pay. I’ll make their deaths slow and painful.”

“I-I don’t understand, my husband,” Jimin begs, his head still racing at how polarizing Yoongi’s actions are, “What exactly happened at court today?” Yoongi still seems to be determined to have his way with Jimin,

pushing them both over to the bed before he hastily shoves Jimin onto the mattress. “We were visiting the proposal I put forward to move you to my quarters,” Yoongi says as he quickly rids Jimin of his clothes, almost on the verge of ripping the fabric,

“And those assholes told me they /denied/ the proposal.” “What?” Jimin asks as Yoongi kisses at the newly freed skin, marking it up with bites and nips, “Why would they do that?” “They said it would discourage me from taking a concubine,” Yoongi informs

as he runs his hands up and down Jimin’s torso greedily, touching and marking his husband the way he wants, “Because they say I need an heir.” Jimin tightens his jaw, realizing what the ministers are trying to encourage. “And you..?” “I killed the one who delivered the denial,”

Yoongi informs as he begins frantically undressing himself, “but the rest voted on it. I know they did. And when I find them out, I’ll kill them too.” Yoongi grinds his hips hard against Jimin’s thigh, making Jimin’s breath catch in his throat at the sensation.

His body is responding to the way that Yoongi plays him like he’s a musical instrument, heat flooding his veins as Yoongi kisses and sucks at the tanned skin. There’s also something to the way that Yoongi is so quick to spill blood at his expense that makes his cheeks flush.

“But why did you call for me now?” Jimin forces himself to ask before he’s truly lost to the throes of pleasure, “Just to have sex?” Yoongi hums against his skin, “Because I’m angry at the court for insinuating

that any concubine could ever possibly give me even a fraction of the pleasure you do. And I need to chase out the idea of anyone else beneath me with the sound of you crying out my name over and over.”

A bright blush creeps onto Jimin’s cheeks as the king continues to worship his body. He gasps as Yoongi tosses their clothes off of the bed, undressing Jimin in almost record time. The thought of his beautifully tailored hanbok laying in a muddled mess at the foot of the bed

has his heart sagging softly in his chest, but it’s quickly replaced as Yoongi dives in to worship his neck again. Jimin squirms softly beneath the king’s embrace, fingers flexing and digging into the pale shoulder blades as he lets himself indulge in the sensation.

Jimin grabs at Yoongi’s jaw, hoisting him up to press their lips together. He has to admit to himself that the idea of anyone else touching his husband has something possessive flaring up in his body too. He kisses harshly at Yoongi’s lips,

pulling him in and licking his way into the king’s mouth. Would anyone kiss Yoongi like he does? Giving him enough fire and passion that Yoongi moans heavily into Jimin’s mouth, Jimin swallowing the moan down greedily. He doesn’t want anyone else to ever have the chance.

“My peony,” Yoongi says as he pulls away, Jimin tugging and nipping at the king’s bottom lip,“Onto your stomach.” Jimin obediently turns over as the king grabs their red seaweed mixture, kneeling on the bed as he presses his cheek into the pillow. When Yoongi returns to the bed,

he curses low beneath his breath. He dives two fingers into the mixture, pressing them against the tight muscle. With the first one he inserts, Jimin lets out a soft hiss, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “I want you too badly right now,” Yoongi warns,

“but promise me you’ll tell me if I hurt you, my love.” “You don’t hurt me,” Jimin reassures as Yoongi thrusts his finger quickly before adding the second, “Just like that, hyung.” “You are a treasure,” Yoongi revels as he deems Jimin to be open enough,

“Let me worship you as you ought to be.” Jimin wiggles his hips as Yoongi coats his length in the mixture, giving himself a few pumps to spread it evenly. “Prove to those ministers why they’re full of shit for proposing a concubine,” Jimin goads.

Yoongi lets out a low growl at his husband’s words, taking Jimin’s hips with his hands. He fills Jimin quickly, the stretch hearty, but it’s almost perfect with how claimed it makes Jimin feel. Yoongi fucks Jimin hard immediately, thrusting fast and deep,

making Jimin’s head spin as he claws at the mattress beneath him. “Hyung!” Jimin cries out as Yoongi fucks him with abandon, “Yoongi!” At the call of his name, Yoongi’s thrusts speed up just a fraction more, until Jimin is moaning wantonly.

He cries out with each hard thrust that Yoongi gives him, loving the way it feels like the king is taking all that he wants from Jimin’s body. “Use me, Yoongi,” Jimin pleads as Yoongi continues fucking him, “Just like that!”

Jimin can feel all of the rage that Yoongi is pouring into each snap of his hips, the way he brutally fucks Jimin like he’s meant for nothing more than raw pleasure. It gives Jimin such satisfaction to know that he’s able to take Yoongi so vigorously, able to alleviate his anger.

He’s able to keep up with Yoongi’s strength, beg for more when his thrusts start getting uneven and choppy. Yoongi is close and Jimin knows he needs just a bit more. “Imagine fucking me in front of them,” Jimin proposes, “Showing all the ministers how much pleasure I bring you.”

Yoongi curses loudly at the image. “Proving to them all why you don’t need anyone else to warm your bed.” It’s getting harder to string a coherent sentence together as they rise towards their peaks. Jimin can barely focus on the next word,

only hoping that he makes sense as he babbles. He wraps a hand around himself to stroke his cock until his body is strung tight. “Yoongi, my king!” They both come together, Yoongi filling Jimin with his come as Jimin stains the mattress beneath them.

The sound of silence is contrasted by how loud Jimin had been only moments ago, his muscles twitching as he tries to regain himself. Yoongi pulls out, leaving Jimin to slump uselessly on the bed. “Did that help your anger, my love?” Jimin asks as he nestles into the pillow,

body suddenly feeling heavy and tired after such a rough session. “Quite a bit,” Yoongi says as he flops down onto the bed next to Jimin, kissing at his forehead, “I will tell the ministers tomorrow that I reject their proposition about a concubine.”

Jimin smiles softly as the king slowly relaxes onto the bed, before his eyelids grow heavy. It seems that the mid-day sex and the heat of the mid-summer day is having a similar effect on them. Yoongi’s eyes slide closed as his breathing evens out, drifting off for a quick nap.

Sleep doesn’t come for Jimin though, who worries about what solution his husband will procure about an heir.

chapter tags // - nsfw

- alcohol use - side namjin, vhope - just go with the historical inaccuracies...

The summer days drag on as usual. Jimin returns to his studies the following day, Yoongi to the imperial court. As the days pass though, the palace gets ready for the latest festivity to take place in Joseon.

The farmers in the fields have worked hard to harvest wheat before the cold winds of the monsoon season begin to blow across Joseon. The kitchens are working almost constantly to produce enough food for the feast that will occur on the evening of Chilseok.

On the sixth day of the seventh month, Jimin eats his dinner quietly with the king as usual. Knowing that there is a major banquet tomorrow has him almost wishing to finish his dinner tonight quickly. “Are you two busy tonight?” Jimin asks Seokjin and Taehyung,

everyone’s eyes in the dining room flashing to Jimin. “We’re supposed to help with the preparation of sirutteok for Chilseok tomorrow,” Seokjin explains, “Why do you ask?” Jimin purses his lips in thought, even Yoongi looking at his husband with a questioning expression.

“I thought perhaps we could spend an evening together, as friends again, since tomorrow is a holiday,” Jimin proposes. “Ah,” Seokjin says, “I don’t think our supervisor would approve such a request.” Yoongi motions to a dish of fish to eat,

purposely not involving himself in the conversation. Jimin ponders aloud, “But I think they would approve the request if it came from the King Consort, no?” Taehyung and Seokjin give each other a long look as a smirk twitches at the corner of Yoongi’s mouth.

“Perhaps I’ll mention it to Jungkook after we finish our meal tonight.” About an hour after dinner, a small knock comes at the door to the antechamber of Jimin’s chambers. When he opens the door, he finds his two friends, sloshing two bottles of soju each,

“The head kitchen staff told us to bring this to you.” Jimin welcomes both into his chambers, where Jungkook has already set out a deck of cards to play with along with 4 bottles of takju. “Let’s play a drinking game,” Jungkook proposes once everyone is seated in the chambers.

The windows are open to allow the breeze to flow through the quarters, the cooling evening air feeling good against their sweat-soaked skin. He deals out a stack of tujeon cards to play with. After a few rounds, everyone has had quite a hearty amount of alcohol already.

Everyone is loose lipped, laughing hysterically at the most innocent of jokes. It’s such a stark difference from the evenings that Jimin usually spends poring over his various law books. Eventually, nobody can focus on the cards anymore,

devolving into just mindless gossiping between friends. “You remember your nasty head servant before, right?” Taehyung asks Jimin, who rolls his eyes and nods, “I heard that she got demoted.” “What!?” Jimin exclaims, leaning forward in excitement, “What happened?”

“I heard from Kyeongeun, your old friend, that someone ratted out Misoo for disbelieving you were fit to be a king consort and so she was demoted,” Taehyung informs, “Do you wanna guess where she got assigned to work?”

Jimin tries to imagine what horrible task she could possibly be relegated to, before he gives up, “Where?” “The cleaning the stables,” Taehyung laughs, “So now she smells like horse shit every day!” The whole group bursts out into a round of hearty laughter,

even Jungkook who doesn’t know Misoo personally, but has heard a story or two. “She’s lucky too because if I had told Yoongi-jeonha about her, she would have been really sorry,” Jimin explains as Jungkook pours everyone another shot of soju. “Speaking of the king,

what happened a few days ago anyways?” Jungkook asks, “What happened after I dropped you off at his chambers?” “Was that the day that the court members were all running around like chickens with their heads cut off?”

Seokjin asks, to Jungkook giving a hearty head nod in confirmation. Jimin would redden at the reminder, but his cheeks are already flushed bright pink with all of the alcohol. “He just really /really/ wanted to relieve his stress,” Jimin giggles.

The entire conversation quickly turns into the friends asking for all of the dirty details of the king, until Jimin swears his embarrassed blush overpowers his drunkenness, “Enough about my sex life, you perverts, who are you guys going to spend Chilseok with?”

“My hand,” Jungkook says sarcastically, causing everyone to burst out into another round of laughter. “Namjoon,” Seokjin says proudly, “He says he knows somewhere just outside of Hanyang that’s perfect for star gazing.” “Sure, perfect if you plan to go star gazing naked,”

Taehyung teases, “Hoseok is taking me to his family’s villa outside of the city walls. He wants me to meet his parents.” “That was fast,” Jimin says, “I thought you two just started courting like a month ago.”

“Says the one who got engaged five seconds after introducing himself to his husband,” Seokjin comments. “Are you guys heading out after the banquet tomorrow?” Jimin asks to nods from both his friends, “The king hasn’t told us what we’re doing tomorrow yet, but knowing him...”

“Don’t you worry,” Jungkook assures, “You know he’s going to make your Chilseok evening unforgettable.” The next morning, Jimin wakes up from resting his head on a floor cushion in the anteroom.

His head is pounding and there are still the eight bottles of alcohol sitting on the anteroom table, all empty. It seems that his friends have head out for the beginning of their shifts, but Jimin merely flops his head back onto the navy floor cushion

and wills the room to stop spinning. It feels like barely any time has passed before there’s a knock at the door, Jungkook opening the door with Jimin’s daybreak meal. “I’m so hungover,” Jimin moans to Jungkook’s immediate agreement, “How are you alive right now?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook says in a groggy, monotone voice, “The kitchens gave you some gamhongno mixed with hot water for your hangover though.” “Share it with me,” Jimin begs, “I think we’ll both need the strength to get through the day.”

A floral aroma drifts up from the light-pink medicinal alcohol as the two share the drink. It does manage to alleviate their worst symptoms, enough that the 2 can begin functioning as human beings again. With the day as a holiday, only the most necessary staff are working today.

Everyone eats a light breakfast, saving as much room as possible for the lavish feast that will happen in the late afternoon. With being a major holiday, both Yoongi and Jimin are expected to make a visit in Hanyang to bless the wheat harvest for the year.

By the time that the royal dressers are tugging Jimin’s royal robes on and placing his crown on his head, Jimin almost forgets how drunk he’d managed to end up last night. The two are taken out in their own gama towards the center of Hanyang.

It’s Jimin’s 1st time being out of the palace since childhood, taking in the scenery they pass by. The houses in the inner part of the city, where the wheat harvest is gathered, are beautiful. Belonging to the richest yangban in the nation, the hanok houses are well maintained.

The walls that surround each home are sturdy, without a single stone out of place. The little bits of house that he can see between the walls has his mouth falling open with how fine the wood and paper walls are. There are so many people bustling by,

hoping to catch a glimpse of the kings that Jimin presses himself tight against the seat of his gama. Luckily, the gama is brought straight to the center of the square. As King Consort, Jimin doesn’t have to do anything except look regal in front of the people.

He holds his head high as Yoongi completes the necessary blessings and rituals for a monsoon season that will result in a fruitful fall harvest. In the end, the entire ordeal takes less than an hour from start to finish. “Is there anything you’d like to see, my peony?”

Yoongi asks as they finish up, the wheat officially considered pure and sacred enough for the people of Joseon to eat, “Perhaps we can see if there are any confections you’d like to try.” Jimin nods as he takes Yoongi’s hand into his own, excited to get a look around Hanyang.

There are many street vendors out today, since the holiday and lack of typical work creates for many idle customers. There are sweets, snacks, and even pieces of meat grilling in the streets that people can buy. “What is that?” Jimin asks,

pointing at a small mountain of what looks to be snow. “Bingsu,” Yoongi informs, “It is shaved ice topped with red bean.” Jimin stares as a couple purchase 1, surprised at the fact that there is ice even in the hottest days of summer. “We’ll share 1,” he proposes as he orders 1.

The seller’s jaw drops open at the sight of the kings before him, “Your most imperial majesties, please,you don’t have to pay.” Yoongi nearly puts the piece of silk away upon taking the bingsu, when Jimin pries the cloth from the king’s hand and places it into the seller’s hand.

“Please take it as thanks,” he instructs with a gentle smile. The seller’s jaw drops open at the luxurious nature of the silk, imagining how much rice he could purchase with such a fine piece of cloth. “Praise be to both of you, I pray for many years of good health for you 2!”

he says as he drops to his knees in a deep bow. The two take their bingsu back to the festival square where a troupe of performers now stand on the stage that the two kings had been on a few minutes ago. The group depict the story of Jiknyo and Gyeonu,

the fated lovers who are separated by the milky way. Yoongi and Jimin eat their bingsu, watching the actors show as Jiknyo and Gyeonu ignore their work in favor of one another, before being banished to opposite sides of the galaxy by the emperor of the heavens.

As the kings scrape the bottom of their dish, the actors show tonight’s event, of the two lovers rejoining for one night a year. “I am grateful we are not separated so cruelly,” Jimin laments as they get ready to head back to the palace,

“I could not bear being separated from you for so long.” Yoongi smiles softly as he takes Jimin’s hand into his own, the most that he can do in the midst of a crowd, “I would not let even the heavens themselves stop me from being by your side.”

The procession back to the palace is uneventful, but Jimin feels excited for the feast ahead of him. Upon arriving through the imperial gate, the kings are immediately brought to the throne room where a banquet hall has been set up once again. Everyone in the court is present,

along with their families for the grand feast. As the final celebration for the wheat harvest, dishes that feature the best grain in the kingdom are presented. Jimin’s mouth waters as he takes in the various flour noodles and grilled wheat cakes presented before them.

There are wheat pancakes and various pieces of tteok mixed with grains of wheat as well. Even watching as Taehyung tastes the various dishes first, Jimin feels like he can’t wait to try them all. The feast renders Jimin so full he doubts he can even move from the banquet.

He’d eaten so heartily that he wishes he weren’t tied into his royal hanbok, longing for the loose waistbands of his regular attire. Even though it seems like Yoongi has eaten just as much, he leans over as the feast is winding to a close,

“Are you ready for our evening together, my love?” “I think you may have to roll me there,” Jimin teases as he pats his full stomach, “What will we do tonight? I heard Namjoon will go stargazing and Hoseok is going to be with his parents.”

Yoongi nods, “Yes, I approved their leave requests. We will bathe.” Jimin cocks his head in confusion, but Yoongi simply stands up to call the feast to a close. With the dinner finished,

many of the ministers and councillors head out with their family for a night full of celebration with their loved ones. Jungkook comes to collect Jimin, to return him to his chambers for dressing into his evening wear.

Jimin is dressed in a simple hanbok and a light overcoat for his trip to the bathhouse. “We’re just going to take a bath?” Jimin tells Jungkook as the attendant puts his formal robes away. “Bathing on Chilseok is traditional and auspicious,” Jungkook explains,

“So many, many people use the bathhouse today. But everyone who can leave the palace is leaving now, so I bet he has special plans for your bath tonight.” “It is?” Jimin asks, “I never bathed on Chilseok before this.” Jungkook helps Jimin into his turquoise overcoat,

“Well, honestly, since it’s a popular day to bathe, usually only the highest classes are able to reserve a spot in the bathhouse.” Jimin purses his lips, realizing that being a member of the cheonmin class meant he’d never been high enough to garner a chance at the tradition.

The two head out towards the bathhouse. It is eerie walking through the palace which has become so devoid of life, barely passing a soul on their way. “Try not to have too much fun,” Jungkook says as he holds open the door to the bathhouse for Jimin,

a waft of steam billowing straight into Jimin’s face. The bathhouse looks just like it did last time, the walls damp with moisture from the steam. Yoongi is already sitting in the bathtub large enough for four,

his hair down from its topknot style and hanging limply over his shoulders. The tips sit in the water, staining his blonde hair dark with wetness. “My peony, you’ve made it,” he says as he motions for Jimin to hurry over to the bath, “Undress yourself and join me.”

Jimin does as instructed, placing his simple hanbok on a wooden shelf far away from potential splashes. There are also a few towels to dry themselves off with when they are finished. Barely a minute passes before Jimin is bare,

padding over the tiled floor to the bathtub where some shampoos and soaps have been laid out for them. Even though it is hot outside, there is a certain element of relaxation that takes over Jimin’s body at sliding into the warm waters.

His muscles loosen and he sighs at the relief that takes over him as he relaxes on the tiled bench beneath the water. “I see you’ve recovered well from dinner,” Yoongi says as he dips his head back into the water, wetting his scalp.

Jimin wordlessly takes the shampoo from the ledge and pours a bit into his hands, before coming over to the king and beginning to work the suds into his locks. “No rolling necessary.” “I’m still quite full,” Jimin counters as he continues lathering the king’s hair with shampoo.

“Hopefully not too full for some fun,” Yoongi says as he dips his head back into the water to rinse his hair out. Jimin begins lathering up his own hair, only for his husband to quickly replace his hands. Yoongi digs his fingers into Jimin’s scalp,

drawing up full body shivers in a deep pleasure that has Jimin’s body curling. “After we are clean, we should take full advantage of having the bathhouse to ourselves.” Jimin simply hums in appreciation at the way Yoongi massages his scalp, teasing soap into all of the roots.

When Yoongi pulls away, Jimin lets out a soft whine in disappointment, only for the king to chuckle softly. “You know I can give you such massages any time you’d like, right?” “Hyung,” Jimin pouts, “you better not go back on your word later.”

The two clean their bodies, letting the sudsy water drain out of the bathhouse and be replaced with new water from the mountain springs. It’s artificially warmed by a furnace stoked by servants,

but it seems similar to the fabled hot springs Jimin heard about once or twice from other servants whose hometowns were famous for such attractions. When they are cleaned, Yoongi wastes little time before he pulls Jimin in for a passionate kiss. They sit together on the bench,

hips pressed tight against one another beneath the warm waters. “In celebration, we should make love,” he coos softly as he leaves pecks at the corner of Jimin’s lips, “To honor Jiknyo and Gyeonu’s tale, of course.”

Jimin nods, head a bit fuzzy with how the hot water relaxes his every muscle and the deep masculine scent of his husband, unhindered by dirt and grime. “To honor them, of course,” Jimin teases. Yoongi gently cups Jimin’s jaw as he pulls him in for another passionate kiss,

stealing Jimin’s breath from his lungs. They kiss steadily, the king pressing his tongue against Jimin’s lips, licking along the seam. When Jimin allows him entrance, Yoongi’s hand drips down beneath the top of the water, gently holding Jimin’s hip against him in the bath.

The other hand comes to rest on Jimin’s knee, before Yoongi guides Jimin to straddle him. There is slight discomfort on Jimin’s knees from the tiled bench, but the warm waters help to alleviate most of the pain by making his body feel lighter.

Yoongi’s hands grab onto Jimin’s ass as they kiss, kneading the flesh until Jimin is gasping into his husband’s mouth. Jimin’s own stout fingers dig into the king’s long blonde locks, the strands slowly drying as the two continue kissing. As Yoongi continues squeezing,

Jimin’s hips rock forward with every flex of his fingers. It’s not too many more kisses until they’re both breathless, panting, and needy. Yoongi’s first finger circles Jimin’s entrance, until Jimin moves his hips down, trying to coax the king into entering him.

Jimin sighs once Yoongi enters him, stretching him quickly. With the warmth of the waters relaxing his muscles, it’s only a few slides of Yoongi’s fingers before Jimin feels ready to take the king. Yoongi takes Jimin’s hips into his hands once again,

guiding his husband to his cock. The king pulls back to stare deep into Jimin’s eyes, “Ride me like this is our only night together this year.” Jimin fills himself with Yoongi’s dick, moaning softly as he stretches around his husband. With the water resistance,

it takes a bit more effort to fully ride Yoongi as it usually does, but that doesn’t stop Jimin from putting forth his most valiant effort. The two moan in tandem as Jimin’s hips work to bring them both mind-fizzling pleasure. After only a few thrusts,

Yoongi’s hands grip tighter onto Jimin’s hips, pulling him down with extra strength to help combat the drag of the water. Around them, the bathwaters slosh noisily against the sides of the tub. Small waves ripple through the waters with every one of Jimin’s rolls of his hips.

Steam begins to collect on the walls of the bath, the temperature rising as the two continue to fuck. Their cries bounce off the walls and the tile, almost rivaling the sound of waster splashing over the edge. As they grow closer towards their peaks,

Yoongi begins thrusting up in time with Jimin’s hips, giving them both immense pleasure. “Hyung, I’m so close!” Jimin whimpers as he buries his face into Yoongi’s shoulder, grabbing onto the king for dear life, “Don’t stop!” They both crest over the tip of the wave together,

bodies strung taut as their limbs twitch, overloaded with pleasure. Jimin feels as the king claims him intimately, his own cock spasming beneath the waters. They let the water slowly lull back to its calm state while they recover,

unsure if their foreheads are beaded with steam from the bath or sweat from their activity. When Jimin climbs off of the king’s lap, his knees flare with anger. He gently rubs at the incredibly sore skin, hoping that he won’t end up with severe bruises on them tomorrow.

He must return to sword training again with the end of the holiday. “My peony,” Yoongi says after a long time of silence, more than enough time to let clarity return to their minds, “I have been thinking all day long.”

Jimin hums in question, peaking open one eye to look at his husband next to him. “About what, my love?” “Why did you give that bingsu seller the silk, even if he didn’t ask for it? He offered to give us it for free.” Jimin takes a second to think back upon the event,

before he remembers what Yoongi is talking about. “What do you mean, why?” Jimin asks with a soft chuckle, before he realizes that Yoongi genuinely is confused, “Because in our oaths as kings we promise to improve the lives of all those in Joseon.

Tell me, my king, how many pieces of silk do you have?” Yoongi thinks for a brief moment. “Countless.” “And how many do you think the seller has?” Jimin continues, giving Yoongi a moment to contemplate, “Judging by his reaction, I would wager none.”

The king looks surprised by the answer, but he doesn’t refute it at all. “For us, silk is nothing special, but to that seller, it could change his whole life.” “He is but one man,” Yoongi argues. “One man who may have a family to feed,” Jimin clarifies,

“but even if he is a bachelor, is he not a member of Joseon? Is he unworthy to eat or find refuge in the winter? You are correct that he is one man, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t deserving.”

For a long time, the bath is quiet. Then, a soft ripple sounds out as Yoongi pulls Jimin in for a kiss. “Perhaps I understand, my kind-hearted Jimin.”

Jimin slashes the tip of his wooden sword against Hoseok’s chest, the minister flying back only to narrowly avoid being hit by the brunt of the sword. “Wow!” Hoseok says as he breathes heavily, both of them panting and dripping with sweat in the hot summer sun,

“You’re so good now, I don’t really know if there’s anything else I can teach you like this.” Jimin should feel pride running through his veins, but he’s busy trying to catch his breath. “That’s great,” he says, panting as he tries to regulate his breathing,

“So then if we’re no longer training together, will you return to your traditional minister duties?” Hoseok wipes the back of his hand against his forehead, pulling away with sweat dripping down his skin. Only moments later is his forehead dotted with new sweat again.

“I would hope not,” Hoseok laments as they finally catch their breath, “You know, the time that Namjoon and I spend teaching you is the only time that we get off. Otherwise, it’s working on government affairs from sunrise to sunset.”

“Maybe you can teach me some other things?” Jimin proposes, “I’m having a lot of trouble memorizing all of the millions of laws and the different sentences in the various provinces.”

“Before I became Left Minister, I was an official in hyeongjo affairs so I am quite proficient at law enforcement,” Hoseok beams, “I’ll make mention of it to Yoongi-jeonha later today.”

“I didn’t know you worked in the Ministry of Justice before,” Jimin marvels as the two pick up their swords and begin cleaning up after their training session today, “Do you know what Namjoon’s ministry was before?” “Of course I know!” Hoseok says with a laugh,

“Namjoon is one of my oldest friends, along with Jungkook. Namjoon worked in yejo affairs, primarily in the governance of the gwageo literature and culture exams. It’s why he’d been tasked to teach you reading and writing; he’s a master at Chinese poetry and literature.”

“He does have quite a few books in his office,” Jimin notes, “but he’s usually just as confused about all of these laws as I am. Usually when I ask him why the sentence in Hamgyeong and Pyeongan are different than in Gyeongsang province, he doesn’t have an answer.

Just ‘because the law is unfair’. Then he gets passionate about how Joseon should treat each man fairly.” “Traditionally, Hamgyeong and Pyeongan provinces are considered troublesome because they are home to many nomadic tribes, so when a criminal is caught,

they are less likely to be able to fulfill their sentence with physical goods,” Hoseok explains with a laugh as they head out of the training grounds and back towards the government buildings in the palace. “But Namjoon’s answer sounds just like him.”

Beneath their feet, the gravel crunches under their shoes. They’re finishing a bit early today, perhaps only by five to ten minutes, so there’s no rush. Off in the distance, birds sing songs to one another; the subtle sound of fish swimming in the imperial pond.

“How are you and Taehyung doing?” Jimin asks as they walk out of the eastern gardens, “I heard you two spend Chilseok together?” Hoseok clasps his hands behind his back as he nods, holding his head high with a bright smile.

“Taehyung-ah,” he says fondly, a lovesick expression crossing his face, “I didn’t know one person could make me so happy. He’s got such a quick tongue, but his heart is so vast and wide at the same time.”

Jimin gives a soft coo at the way Hoseok talks about his lover, “Do you see yourself with him for a long time?” “I want to marry him,” Hoseok sighs dreamily, his smile turning into a full heart,

“Just thinking about him in marriage robes has my heart flipping in my chest.” Jimin nudges Hoseok’s shoulder gently, “You’re down so bad for him.” “You should see your face whenever someone mentions Yoongi-jeonha,” Hoseok quips back,

Jimin’s cheeks lighting up with a dusting of pink, “Just like now. You’re turning red. You’d think you two were still newlyweds at how infatuated you are.”

“So when will your wedding be?” Jimin asks, desperately trying to turn the conversation back to his friends’ embarrassingly sweet love story rather than his own, “I know Taehyung would say yes if you proposed.”

“I need Yoongi-jeonha to approve the application first,” Hoseok explains, “My parents are insistent on me marrying another yangban woman, but if the king himself decrees that Taehyung and I will marry, what can my parents really do?”

Jimin frowns slightly at the revelation, heart drooping softly in his chest, “Have you already submitted the request?”

Hoseok nods. “It’s just taking a while because of everything politically that’s going on,” he tries to maintain a hopeful attitude, but it’s clear that the delay is weighing heavily on his mind,

“It’ll just take time; that’s all.” Jimin purses his lips as the two walk past the gate that separates the government buildings from the greater gardens.

“Hyung,” Jimin says later that evening after dinner, walking next to his husband as they wind slowly through the gardens, “Did you know that Hoseok wants to marry?” “He does?” Yoongi asks as they walk towards the east. Though the two haven’t spoken about it at all,

they both find themselves angling towards the private training grounds that they frequent on their nightly walks. “He says he’s submitted a marriage application,” Jimin informs, “He wants to marry Taehyung, but since he’s a member of the yangban class

and Taehyung is part of the sungmin class, they need special permission.” “How have you heard about this, my peony?” Yoongi asks as they walk further into the royal forest, where the trees are thick enough to form a barrier against the outside world.

“Hoseok-hyung told me,” Jimin says simply, “And Taehyung is so madly in love with him too, I know he’d say yes if Hoseok asked.” “It seems the season of weddings will be upon us soon,” Yoongi notes as they come to the now-familiar training grounds,

“Yoonji’s pre-wedding rituals are nearly complete, so with luck, she’ll be marrying within a year.” “The groom’s family has accepted all of Yoonji’s proposals?” Jimin asks as Yoongi unlocks the storage compartment that house the wooden training swords, “Just recently?”

The king nods as he takes 2 practice swords from the cabinet and hands one to Jimin. By now, he’s so familiar with the weapon that he no longer bends at the weight of it in his hand. “Yesterday,” Yoongi clarifies, “In addition, Namjoon has asked for permission to marry as well.”

“To Seokjin?” Jimin asks excitedly. “Who else would he ask to marry?” Yoongi teases back, “Enough of wedding talk, Hoseok said that you are ready to move on to the next step of your trainings. I would like to test your skills first, before we proceed.”

“Hoseok said that he wouldn’t be training me further, though,” Jimin questions as Yoongi closes the door to the outdoor cabinet and turns to face his husband. “Yes,” Yoongi confirms as he raises his wooden sword to face Jimin,

“You will be trained by a master of sword art once you are given your own blade. Hoseok is skilled in his training, but when you have a sword made of metal, you should be trained by someone who excels in the craft.”

“Who?” Jimin asks as he takes his stance in the training ground. “Myself,” Yoongi says as he goes in for the beginning of his final test.

Jimin manages to repel Yoongi’s attacks, including making his own advances. The two spar heartily, the sounds of their wooden swords clashing against each other filling the air.

Wood clanking against one another rises from the training ground for nearly two whole minutes, until Jimin stops his blade barely a hair’s length away from the king’s unblocked torso. Jimin feels so hyped up on adrenaline from the brief encounter

and the knowledge that he’s actually managed to beat the king. “My peony,” Yoongi marvels, “I didn’t even go easy on you.” Jimin’s face breaks out into a wide grin at the admission.

“Our sparring sessions have been productive,” Jimin beams as he sticks his sword into the dirt, barreling into Yoongi’s chest to kiss his husband deeply, “I think I’m ready to be given my very own sword, don’t you think?”

Yoongi’s brown eyes lid as they take in Jimin just before him, arms naturally wrapped around Jimin’s waist. The two hold each other, breathing in the same, humid air. “I will ask for the blacksmith to craft you a sword as fine as my own,” Yoongi says,

“It will take them a few days, but consider it a gift. A blade of your own, made of the finest metals in all of Joseon. You have trained so hard these past few months, one would hardly believe you haven’t practiced the art for years.”

“I do have a master of the art as my husband,” Jimin boasts as he leans in to kiss Yoongi again, feeling the way that Yoongi’s large hands crawl up and down his sides, caressing his body eagerly. “Are you hot, my king?”

Jimin asks as he notes the sweat that beads on Yoongi’s forehead, “Perhaps we should take a trip to the bathhouse together.” A smirk stretches across Yoongi’s lips as he steals a kiss, “Just say you want me to massage your scalp again.” “Hyung, you know me too well.”

For a few days, Jimin throws himself into his new schedule. With his change in teachers, he now spends his hours following breakfast with Hoseok, studying law. While many of the intricacies of the law are things that must be memorized with brute force,

Hoseok does have an expansive knowledge of the history behind most of the laws. Learning about the origins of the laws and the reasons for the different sentencings helps Jimin to finally be able to piece together the various pieces of the puzzle that are law.

In the afternoon, Namjoon teaches him the readings for all of the hanja. While he still has a vast amount to learn in order to be able to fully practice law or read the many pieces of legal documentation, it’s slowly starting to get easier.

After dinner, he heads to the training grounds with Yoongi, who teaches him more of the delicacies of using a finely crafted blade over a rough, wooden approximation.

“Go on,” Yoongi says as he holds the hilt out for Jimin to take into his hand, “Try to use it against the practice dummy.” “But, hyung,” Jimin says as he hesitates to take the sword into his hand, “This is...” “It’s my own blade, correct,”

Yoongi says as he thrusts the handle into Jimin’s open palm, “You are allowed to use it. But only because you are my husband.” Jimin lifts the sword up, barely believing that Yoongi is trusting him with his own sword.

There are some things that even married couples consider to be too personal for their spouse to touch. A man’s own sword is one of those rare things. In the dying sunlight of early evening, Jimin lifts the blade to get a good look at the piece of craftsmanship.

It’s intricately designed, with a jade guard that has been laced with gold, the steel pristine and clean. It’s sharp enough that Jimin doesn’t even dare touch the blade with his bare finger.

Along the length of the blade is Yoongi’s name, carved into the blade. His name nestles between the peaks of two mountains, a sun rising in the center of them to depict him as the king of Joseon. “My sun,” Jimin marvels,

a soft smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as Yoongi flicks his eyes up to meet his husband, “I am so honored.” The king returns the smile with a motion towards the training dummy. Jimin slices with the blade, amazed at how clean the cut is on the body of the dummy.

Hardly any straw falls out of it with how clean and crisp the line had been from Jimin’s slash. The two only spend perhaps an hour in the private training area, with Yoongi giving Jimin instruction on how to properly attack and keen things to be aware of with drawing his weapon.

Their practice session is cut short when Yoongi eagerly drags Jimin away from the training area, muttering to himself about the sight of Jimin wielding his sword too strong to resist.

The following morning, Jimin wakes in the king’s chambers, bare and still slick from last night’s passion. “Chuseok is coming in only a week, my sun,” Jimin says as he lays on the king’s mattress with only a thin sheet covering his modesty,

“Are there preparations for the festival that we need to complete?” Yoongi’s royal attendant delivers the royal couple’s daybreak meal, tasting it while Yoongi proudly parades around in the nude. “This is the largest festival of the year,”

Yoongi informs as the attendant leaves the couple, Jimin finally rising once the door is firmly closed, “So the palace will have a lavish feast for all three nights.” “And visiting the ancestor’s graves on the day of Chuseok itself?” Jimin asks as he takes a seat next to Yoongi,

digging into the rice porridge for the morning. “I will have the servants take care of the cleaning and maintenance of the graves, but we will travel there to provide the expected offerings,” Yoongi explains, “We will only visit my family’s grave,

unless you feel strongly about visiting the traditional Park family grave by yourself?” Jimin shakes his head, “I am only a Park in name.” “I figured as such,” Yoongi continues, “I didn’t arrange for transportation to Busan as a result.”

They eat their meager porridge and fish, sharing their kimchi together. “Ah,” Jimin notes once a vague memory blossoms in the back of his head towards the end of their meal. Yoongi cocks an eyebrow in question as he finishes the rest of his porridge.

“I must remember to send Jihyun some sweets for sneaking the family genealogy book in spring. We can arrange for that to be delivered, right?” A soft smile tugs at the corner of Yoongi’s mouth, “That is much more preferable than sending you all the way to Busan.”

He caresses at Jimin’s bare knee, before dipping his hands in towards Jimin’s upper thigh, “I don’t think I could be away from you for so long.”

Three days before the festivities of Chuseok begin, Jimin is called to meet the king in his private office. Now long-familiar with the route to the king’s quarters, he makes the trip without any expectations.

It is not uncommon for Yoongi to call for him after dinner has been cleared away and the palace grounds quieting for the evening. There is something about the walk over that always makes electricity jolt beneath his skin, excited to spend the evening wrapped in Yoongi’s arms.

Jungkook announces Jimin’s arrival before the attendant dismisses himself for the evening. “Allow my husband entrance,” Yoongi says from the other side of the paper door. Jimin opens the paper door, letting himself in to the unexpected sight of Yoongi still in his outer clothes.

He’s still wearing his hanbok and overcoat from outside, but now he holds a thin, wooden box in his hands. “You called for me, my king?” Jimin asks as he closes the door behind him, listening as Jungkook’s footsteps echo down the quarters hallway.

“I did,” Yoongi says as he places the box on the low, lacquered table that he uses for both work and eating in his private chambers, “I have brought you a gift, my peony.” Jimin walks over to the table,

taking a seat on the floor cushion that Yoongi motions towards. The king sits on the other side of the table, watching Jimin with an excited look. “Go on, open it.”

Jimin admires the case first, the wood a fine quality that has been stained just a shade or two darker than its natural color. It has a top that nestles perfectly onto the base of the box, wrapped entirely with a long piece of woven cloth.

Jimin has never been given a present before, unsure of how to receive such a gift in the first place. He tugs on the ribbon, watching as it falls to the sides. Yoongi seems to be watching with keen interest,

though he is purposely trying not to seem overly excited. If Jimin didn’t know his husband so well, he might have missed such an emotion from the king. Carefully, Jimin places both hands on the sides of the narrow box,

lifting the top up to reveal a small bed of regal, dark red silk beneath it. He brushes the thin piece of fabric away to reveal the most delicately laid sword in all of Joseon.

A soft gasp escapes Jimin’s lips of its own accord, Jimin laying the top of the box off to the side while he takes the sword into his hand. The blade is wrapped in its sheath, but the handle itself is more intricate than Jimin had ever expected to see in his life.

The sheath itself is a dark brown stained leather, almost on the border of black. A beautifully crafted hilt with intricately carved pattern runs along the handle, the raised texture giving ample amount of grip to the sword.

The guard is the most stunning shade of green jade, chiseled with swirling patterns that are both delicate and masculine. “Take it out,” Yoongi instructs as Jimin gently handles the brightly-colored threaded tassels that are hanging off of the guard.

Jimin gently takes the handle into his hand, the dark leather sheath in the other. He pulls the blade out slowly, careful to keep his distance from the sharp edge. There are so many beautiful carvings along the metal that Jimin doesn’t know where to look first.

At the head of the blade, towards the guard, is a setting of two mountains, with a moon casting its bright white light over them. On the other side of the blade is his name,

the hanja written in a clean but stylistic manner. “They copied my calligraphy for your name,” Yoongi informs as Jimin’s eyes scan more of the blade, “I wrote as beautifully as possible for them.”

Jimin continues admiring, heart thumping loudly with how touched he is by Yoongi’s own personal touch on the sword. Further up on the blade, more towards the tip, is the giant blossoming of a peony in full spread.

It is such a vast flower that the carving stretches along the back and wraps around to the other side. As Jimin continues to admire the piece of art before him, tears quickly flood to his eyes, blurring his vision. “You don’t like it?” Yoongi asks quietly.

“Hyung,” Jimin says, voice watery as he sets the sword down carefully in its box, making sure not to accidentally injure either of them, “This is the best present I could have ever received. I’m so happy right now.”

Yoongi comes over to Jimin’s side of the table, gently taking his face into the king’s large grasp. Jimin hurriedly presses their lips together in intimate thanks, wrapping his arms around the king’s shoulders.

When they pull apart, Jimin’s heart feels so light that he wants to laugh and sing. “Can we go test it out now? In the training grounds?” “Now?” Yoongi asks cautiously, “It’s nearly ten at night.”

“And we are the Kings of the nation,” Jimin informs, “If we want to use the training grounds, then who is to stop us?” Yoongi laughs softly as he helps Jimin to his feet, lending him an overcoat appropriate for others to see him in.

“You are like a child with their birthday present,” Yoongi comments as they head out of the king’s chambers and towards the palace gardens. The feeling of Jimin’s new sword bouncing on his hip makes pride swell through his whole body. “Royals get presents on their birthday too?”

The days leading up to Chuseok are full of things to do. The entire country is alight with excitement for the biggest festival in the entire year. Farmers in the fields are collecting the final harvest for the year.

Long-strewn children are gathering back at their parents’ home to visit the ancestors’ grave. Even the palace itself has been transformed into one efficient machine, prepping for the grand feasts that will take place during the festival.

3 days of festivities include the gathering of heads of state from around the country. Even further kingdoms are invited to join the festivities as the most important time of year. For the first time since Jimin married Yoongi, foreign dignitaries are being invited to the palace.

It’s a bit surreal to experience Chuseok as a member of the royal family rather than as a low servant like he’s used to. He used to dread chopping enough wood for the palace to consume during Chuseok and now he dreads greeting foreign guests.

With Chuseok comes the beginnings of fall again, the hottest days of summer finally past them all. With the cool winds comes a break in the humidity and a change in the outfits. Jimin’s hanboks made with lightweight ramie cloth are replaced with thicker silks,

in addition to many added layers for warmth. He is fitted with a few durumagi to layer on over his jeogori and overcoats, along with adding various underlayers between his undergarments and jacket.

The day before Chuseok, Jimin is dressed in an incredibly formal attire to head to dinner. For the first time since marriage, he will not be dining with his husband tonight, but rather Yoonji and the other wives of the foreign guests.

With the lack of Queen, the duty to perform supportive spouse to the King falls on his shoulders. He is dressed in the same outfit he’d been coronated in as it is much less extravagant than his ceremonial robes and beaded crown.

“They’re going to be so weirded out eating with a man,” Jimin says as Jungkook finishes tying all of the little ribbons onto Jimin’s dark blue overcoat that’s stitched with a four-clawed dragon, “You know, I don’t interact with women that often.”

“I am well aware,” Jungkook teases, but it doesn’t really bring any comfort to Jimin. “Just follow Yoonji’s lead,” he urges, “she didn’t get her reputation for being a traditional and chaste woman magically. You and I both know the real Yoonji better than any of the other women.”

“I still can’t believe everyone thinks she’s the peak of female virtue when I’ve seen her whining at breakfast because her painting didn’t turn out the way she wanted,” Jimin notes as Jungkook gives a final once-over and deems him acceptable for pre-Chuseok dinner.

“She’s a master of the game,” Jungkook says. “What game?” “The game of nobility.”

Jimin is brought to Royal Princess Yoonji’s quarters to wait for her to finish being dressed for the evening. The quarters aren’t far from his own, considering that Jimin still resides in the part of the palace meant for female members of the royal family.

After the reapplication for Jimin to be moved to Yoongi’s quarters, they’d never bothered to move all of his belongings and ready another set of quarters for Jimin temporarily. He’s been here once or twice before, though they don’t look much different than his own quarters.

“I’m almost ready Orabeoni,” Yoonji calls out as Jimin rolls the intricate fan that he’d been given as an evening accessory in his hand, “Just finishing up my hair!”

Jimin’s leg falls asleep as he waits for the princess, wondering if perhaps he should go to see if she needs any help when the paper door flies open. Yoonji emerges from her quarters in a very regal dress of a red skirt and a green jacket,

fitting of her status as Royal Princess of Joseon. She wears her hair in a long braid on her back, fitted with a thick strip of red silk stitched with gold throughout it. She looks gorgeous as she descends the steps with her royal attendant hurrying behind her.

“Next Chuseok, I’m going to be wearing a married woman’s hairstyle,” Yoonji exclaims happily as she links her arm in Jimin’s and begins tugging him towards the royal dining hall, “You look so fancy tonight!” Yoonji’s royal attendant hurries to keep up with the young princess,

a handsome young man who looks frantic with the chaos of his assignment. Jimin has barely seen the man besides the times that he announces the princess’s arrival at breakfast, but he always seems to be somewhat out of breath.

“Do you know any of these women?” Jimin asks as he guides his sister-in-law through the royal estate to the dining hall that they typically eat in. Tonight, the dining hall will host five others.

Yoongi, along with the wives’ husbands, will eat in the much more luxurious dining hall near the government buildings. “Yeah,” Yoonji says casually as they walk, “They’re kind of annoying, so I mostly try to keep quiet and listen to what they say.

They’re our guests, but we should be careful not to speak too freely around them. Just be really polite and only speak if you really have to.”

Jimin makes a mental note in his head. As they walk through the gate that separates the dining hall from the royal family’s personal quarters, Yoonji pulls away and straightens the jacket of her hanbok, before dusting her skirts.

She throws her head up high and takes on the role of a pristine princess. It’s akin to seeing an actress take on her role, watching as the usually bubbly and free-spirited princess transform into Jimin’s initial expectation of Royal Princess Yoonji as the height of a noble lady.

Jimin follows suit, straightening his back and holding his head high as he ought to. He is the second most powerful person in Joseon, taking on his role as King Consort as seriously as the day he was coronated.

The servant for the dining room, a member of the jungin class that Jimin remembers hearing stories about from Seokjin and Taehyung, announces their presence. Yoonji enters first and takes her seat at the proper spot before Jimin is allowed entrance.

When Jimin enters the dining hall, he is greeted by all five wives as well as Yoonji. All the women bow as low as they can while standing, Jimin taking his place in Yoongi’s usual chair before he bids them to sit.

“Please, as guests of our fine nation of Joseon, eat freely,” Jimin instructs, “Should you need of anything during the meal, please ask any of our kitchen servants and they will be glad to fulfill your request. Let the meal begin.”

The dining room is well filled out with the additional guests. There is also a gisaeng who plays a song on her saenghwang for all the diners to enjoy. With the foreign members, there are also interpreters between their respective languages and Korean.

Jimin follows Yoonji’s rule of listening, rather than speaking himself. He watches as one of the women says something in Russian, before it is translated into Korean, then to Chinese. Throughout the evening, the mix of languages fills the empty spaces in the gisaeng’s song.

He is quite surprised as he watches though that Yoonji seems to have no trouble speaking to the foreign wives. Yoonji speaks freely in Chinese to one of the wives before turning and flawlessly shifting to Japanese. “Jimin-mama,” Yoonji says incredibly formally,

the sound of honorific Korean sounding strange from his younger sister-in-law’s lips, “The wife of Minister Sakamoto is wondering if you would be interested in attending winter festival in Japan?” Jimin dips his spoon into his soup before bringing it to his lips,

just to give himself some time to think. The wife, Asuka, turns her gaze to Jimin. Out of the corner of his gaze, he sees Yoonji shaking her head as subtly as possible now that the attention is firmly on the King Consort. Jimin smiles graciously at Asuka,

“I am so humbled that you offer such kind an invitation. I will speak to my husband about the idea,” he says politely. It is a promise, but not one that he intends to move forward with. Yoonji gives a relieved sigh.

The women of the dining hall ask him the occasional question, typically about his relationship with the king. Except for answering, Jimin purposely keeps his mouth shut, listening instead to the interpreters passing bits of conversation back and forth.

The things that the women say about Jimin tend to be favorable, such as complimenting his skin complexion or the regal air that surrounds him. The dinner proceeds well when one of the Chinese wives, Yingyue, says something to the other dignitary from further south in China.

For the first time, the interpreter is silent and the lack of translation is louder than Yingyue’s words had been. Yoonji speaks up quickly, face smiling so brightly that it looks like it might crack. Though Jimin cannot understand her words, he can tell what her question is.

“Would you mind repeating yourself?”

“Yoonji-mama?” Jimin asks as the attention is clearly shifted to him by everyone in the room who understood Yingyue’s comment. Once the drama becomes evident,

everyone else stops their own conversations to pay attention to the scene before them. Yoonji smiles as she turns to face Jimin, eyes flickering towards Yingyue as she relays the minister’s wife’s words. “She asked how you plan to bear the king a son,” Yoonji says in Korean,

which the rest of the interpreters quickly translate for their assignment. It becomes so quiet that Jimin thinks he can hear the beating of his own heart in his chest.

Jimin places on an equally bright smile as Yoonji’s as he turns to Yingyue. “I appreciate your concern. Though I cannot bear my husband a son, such a matter is a private affair of the royal family and cannot be divulged freely to those that the family does not already trust.

If you are concerned about the status of the bloodline, I assure you, that such worry is unnecessary.” Jimin watches as the interpreter relays the message to Yingyue, who hangs her head in shame at being called out in front of all of the other dignitaries.

Yoonji lets out a soft snicker at the way the woman turns bright red and buries her face in her meal instead. A moment passes before she mutters something and the interpreter says, “She formally apologizes for the slight against the royal family.”

Jimin nods and gives a smile, “Though I accept the apology, I will have to get back to you on if my husband does after I tell him about our evening tonight though.” Yingyue’s head snaps up at the comment,

face going pale at the idea of King Min learning about her words. Jimin motions to Taehyung for the end of the meal, “I sincerely hope that you’ll be able to join us for dinner tomorrow night in the throne room.”

chapter tw // - vomiting - poisoning - violence

reminder: major character death is not a tag

this includes basically any member of bangtan+yoonji

That evening, Jimin calls for tea to Yoonji’s quarters. His husband is busy with the foreign dignitaries on international matters in the government buildings, apparently still in the middle of dinner even though it’s been nearly two full hours of dining.

Jimin shudders to think about what potential political talk the men are conducting, a subtle game of moving ones’ pawns without exposing their most vulnerable pieces. In Yoonji’s quarters, the place has a much more feminine nature than he has become accustomed to.

She has many pieces of art hanging on the wall, her own paint set splayed out on her desk in the corner. There are musical instruments, along with a multitude of books on poetry in her bookcase. She has some intricately folded paper animals displayed on the top of her bookshelf,

all surrounding a display of beautifully cut flowers in an ornate vase. The colors themselves are much brighter than most of the interiors in Yoongi’s quarters or the ones in Jimin’s, though Jimin’s color scheme was more the remnants of the late queen’s taste.

Tea is brought from the royal kitchens, who have collected a mixture of herbs that are to aid sleep. Yoonji’s royal attendant, who Jimin learns is named Yuwon, brings the tea and sets it up for both of them. “Dinner was amazing!”

Yoonji says once the two are finally alone for the rest of their tea, “I didn’t know you had it in you!” Jimin frowns at his cup of tea, “I know I said that it was private, but I really don’t know what Yoongi-hyungnim is planning on doing about an heir.”

Yoonji takes a sip of her tea as she shrugs, “I mean, there have been propositions thrown around here and there. Orabeoni hasn’t told you about them?” “He told me about the council trying to convince him to take a concubine,” Jimin offers,

“but he killed a councilor for even suggesting that. Besides that, nothing.” Yoonji is silent for a second, but it’s clear that there’s something in his sister-in-law’s mind already. “Well...” “What?” Jimin asks, latching desperately onto whatever Yoonji is thinking about.

“Our family is kind of weird, isn’t it?” she says bluntly, turning a light shade of pink at the admission. Jimin simply raises an eyebrow at her, hoping for her to elaborate on her claim. “I mean, think about my father’s children for a second.”

“Yoongi-hyungnim is his first son and you are his first daughter,” Jimin says before he realizes the oddity in that sentence. “Exactly, we’re his only children and we’re ten years apart,” Yoonji agrees, “My father had a wife and three concubines, but only two children?

Plus, none of his concubines ever bore any children, not even a stillborn.” Jimin has never had much particular interest in the genealogy of the royal family before, but when it’s brought to his attention so drastically, it’s certainly strange.

Yoongi’s father had been one of seven children, along with a handful of others born to concubines of Yoongi’s grandfather. “Okay, so how does this affect my husband’s predicament?” “I’m saying that both Yoongi-orabeoni and myself are equal in blood,” Yoonji clarifies.

Suddenly, it’s as though a brand new pathway opens up in Jimin’s mind. “If I were to bear children, they’d have just as much royal blood in their veins as if they were Orabeoni’s children. You two could adopt them to continue the bloodline easily.”

For a moment, Yoonji allows the new information to seep into Jimin’s head. They both take a long sip of tea while the wheels churn inside of his head. “So why hasn’t Yoongi-hyungnim said anything about it to me yet?” Yoonji rolls her eyes dramatically,

“Because he says I can’t have a baby when I’m still a baby myself.” She lets out a big huff of air, fluttering the tips of her bangs like a child throwing a tantrum. “But I’m a full-grown woman. I’m getting married this year!”

“You’d allow us to adopt your children?” Jimin confirms, “I think you’d be an amazing mother.” “Well I’m still going to live in the palace, so it would basically be the same either way,” Yoonji explains,

“Do you really think that Orabeoni would just ignore his future nieces and nephews?” Jimin already can imagine Yoongi allowing Yoonji’s children to crawl all over him knowing how much they mean to his sister. “It’d basically be adoption in the legal sense only anyways.”

“That’s true,” Jimin comments, “I assume that none of these proposals can be made legal before the child is born though, right?” “Yeah,” Yoonji says, “I could just have a small army of daughters and no sons. So we can’t put it into law now anyways.”

Jimin dismisses himself from Yoonji’s quarters a little after nine o’clock, surprised when Jungkook brings him to his own quarters for the evening. “The king is still in talks with the foreign dignitaries,”

Jungkook explains as he helps Jimin out of his fineries and into some pajamas for sleeping, “It seems as though they might be working throughout the night.” For the first time in a long time, Jimin falls asleep longing for his husband’s embrace.

In the morning, the festivities of Chuseok begin. Jimin is roused well before the sun rises, before he is rushed to the bathhouse. He bathes quickly with Jungkook handing him the necessary soaps and shampoos to shave off moments of time.

He barely has time to pray the evil spirits away in the bathhouse before he’s being shuffled to get dressed for the day. Jimin is dressed as the very beginnings of sunlight stretch out across the sky. Crickets still sing in the night, but birds are warming up their morning calls.

Jimin’s eyes are heavy as Jungkook, along with the other two dressing attendants, tie Jimin’s most formal, ornate attire on. His black robes covered with various symbols of yin and yang, one that almost mirrors Yoongi’s except for the number of symbols on his body.

He is fitted with his beaded crown, the little pieces clinking together noisily every time that Jimin’s head droops down. Jimin is rushed along to the front of the royal family estate where he meets Yoongi, dressed in similarly formal robes. Beside him stands Yoonji,

dressed in her most formal outfit that he’s ever seen her. Her dress is made of red silk, along with hair accessories made from jade, gold, and pearls. “Your myeonbok looks beautiful, my peony,” Yoongi compliments as he climbs into his gama to be taken to the Min ancestral grave.

Jimin and Yoonji are both heralded into their own gamas as well. The Min family ancestral grave is only a short ride away, up the mountain that stretches beyond the palace to the north. Yoongi climbs out of the gama, followed by Jimin and Yoonji as they approach the shrine.

It’s tucked into a small part of the mountain, a tiny cave that looks like it could be the home to a large animal rather than the royal family’s resting place. In the center of the cave stands a torch that has been lit for the royal family this morning. “This is the royal grave?”

Jimin whispers to Yoonji as the group enters the cave, the rest of the servants who’d carried the gamas waiting outside. “It’s to deter those who have no business entering,” Yoonji informs, “It is given this appearance purposefully.

We cannot disturb our ancestors’ rest with unworthy visitors.” “And we have to do this at dawn so nobody follows us?” Jimin asks. Yoonji shakes her head, the jewels on her hair ornaments jingling,

“The royal family must be prayed to first before other families in the nation are allowed to. If we pray at first morning light on the first day of Chuseok, the rest of Joseon can pray whenever they’re able to during the next three days.”

The grave is immaculately maintained by a few trusted servants, gold leaf shining along the edges of it. As the resting place of all of Joseon’s kings, it is usually treated as sacred ground, but today it is full of offerings as well.

Just beyond the headstone stands a grand stone table that the offerings are placed upon. It looks as though there is enough food on the table to feed a nation, the altar full of rice, soups, fruits, vegetables, rice cakes, meats, and various alcoholic beverages.

As the former rulers of the Joseon, the former kings and queens are offered every honor possible. “Has the sun peaked over the horizon?” Yoongi checks as he lights an incense and places it in the designated holder on the altar.

“Not yet,” Yoonji informs as she steps around Jimin to head to the shrine, “Just a minute or two more.” Yoongi takes his crown off, placing it onto the altar, before he hikes the skirt on his myeonbok and slowly lowers himself to his knees.

He kneels on a padded floor cushion made of bamboo or hemp laid on top of a thin, white sheet while Yoonji follows suit. Jimin hurries himself over to the third and final position just before he takes his own crown off and places it next to Yoongi’s.

“I hope our father knows I am bowing only to our grandfather, great-grandfather, and great-great-grandfather,” Yoongi snips as Yoonji watches the horizon outside, “I refuse to ever show that man an ounce of respect until the day I die and am placed at this grave myself.”

Yoonji shushes her brother before she says, “The sun’s up now.” All three bow low to the ground in front of the grave, holding their hands on the sheet as they pay their respects. For five minutes, they show reverence to the Min family ancestors,

praying for the ancestors’ wellbeing and wishings for the coming year. When they finally rise from their positions in front of the grave, Jimin feels like his back might be permanently bent over. Slowly, all three of them rise to their feet,

dusting their knees off of any potential dirt that might have gotten onto their clothes. Yoongi and Jimin both take their crowns and reposition them onto their heads, Yoonji helping to center them. Finally, the king emerges from the royal family’s ancestral grave,

“Chuseok may officially begin now.” Chuseok is both busy and calm. Jimin is shuffled off between various activities throughout Joseon for 3 days. There are multiple celebrations that the crown must bless in Hanyang, from fruit gathering celebrations to rice harvest celebrations.

The streets are alight with people celebrating the end of year harvest, along with catching up with fellow friends and family members. Since there are so many different celebrations that request for the royal family to visit, both Yoongi and Jimin are scheduled separately.

As far as conducting blessings on harvests goes, Jimin could do worse. He’s seen Yoongi bless harvests before, such as during Chilseok, knowing the general steps to take. However, by the time that he’s blessing a fourth harvest of persimmons,

he’s a bit tired of being an extension of the crown. The best part about Chuseok are the feasts though. With newly harvested fruits and vegetables, grains and meats, each dinner is an impressive display of the height of Joseon cooking.

Each evening, the royal family hosts an elaborate ball in the throne room, akin to their wedding or Chilseok’s celebration. The highest ranking members of Joseon society are invited, along with honoring the foreign guests who have travelled from far away.

Every evening, people eat freely and drink heartily to give thanks to the gods for giving them such a bountiful harvest. After each banquet, Jimin feels like he will end up rolling back to his quarters.

The first night features dishes that utilize the various fruits found throughout Joseon. Jimin finds himself tasting fruit in dishes he never thought before, such as savory sauces and alongside meats. Throughout dinner, he sits between Yoongi and Yoonji,

listening to both of the conversations between both groups. Along with Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok speak about general matters of the nation. The second day features various rice dishes from around Joseon. The entire banquet hall is lively, with people chattering away.

After dinner each night is a performance by some of the best acts in all of Joseon. Troupes of actors, musicians, acrobats, and dancers entertain everyone full of the most luxurious food that the nation has to offer.

In the evening, after being paraded around Hanyang for so many hours and then stuffed to the brim with food, both Jimin and Yoongi opt to retire to their own quarters for the evening. The third day of Chuseok begins as usual.

Jimin is woken early in the morning to be fit into his myeonbok, carrying the weight of the royal crown on his head for the third day in a row. He almost longs for the hot days covered in sweat with Hoseok, slashing at training dummies with a thick, heavy wooden sword.

Or perhaps holed up in Namjoon’s hot office, scribbling hanja down and trying his best not to let his perspiration drip onto the page. Even spending hours in the evening just strolling casually through the gardens with Yoongi,

doing nothing but admiring the way that nature surrounds them. “Tomorrow is back to normal,” Jimin says as Jungkook ties his ceremonial robes shut, “I think I need a vacation from holidays.” Jungkook laughs softly at Jimin’s plight.

“Lucky for you, Chuseok is the biggest holiday of the year, besides New Years,” he says as he deems Jimin suitable to head to his first harvest blessing of the day, “and the next festival isn’t until next month. It’s a small holiday though, nothing crazy.”

Jimin lets out a sigh of relief at the news. Transported in a gama crisscrossing back and forth around Hanyang, Jimin oversees a total of four harvest blessings. The first is a blessing of meat from a collective of butchers,

where Jimin tries not to look into the eyes of the dead animals as best he can. The second is a harvest of rice from south of Hanyang in Jeolla province. The third is a harvest of persimmons, eerily reminiscent of his blessings on the first day.

The last celebration he heads to is of a late wheat harvest. By the time that Jimin is being taken through the gates of the palace, his neck feels stiff from being held straight for so long. The heaviness of his crown has given him a small headache.

He’s starving after being gone from the palace for so long. But above all, he misses his close friends and not having to worry about how he presents himself. Jimin nearly barrels himself into Yoongi’s embrace the moment that he catches sight of his husband in the throne room.

The room is especially crowded today, as the last day of festivities. Today’s featured ingredient are the various pork dishes, as well as a number of special dishes courtesy of the foreign dignitaries. Various cuisines that are unfamiliar to Joseon palettes are presented to

both the kings, as well as their intimate party members. “As a present from the east, Minister Sakamoto Juichi and his wife Asuka would like to gift the king and king consort a traditional stir fry dish native to their homeland,”

the Japanese representative shows a large plate of brightly colored vegetables along with pieces of roasted pork. Everyone at the royal table takes a small bite, admiring the bitter taste that the dish has compared to traditional Joseon foods.

The representative from China comes up to the royal table after the party has had a full taste of the Chanpuru from Japan. “From the lands to the west, his honorable Minister Xiang Fuling and his wife Yingyue present to the people of Joseon a traditional meal from their people,”

the representative says as he presents the bubbling stew full of various meats, “It contains pieces of pork blood sausage, which are part of their traditional foods.” Jimin and Yoongi both look appreciative of the gesture as the representative leaves the pot of bubbling stew

in front of the kings. The entire table takes a small bowl of stew, waiting for Seokjin and Taehyung to taste it before the kings take a small, tentative sip. It’s not the worst thing that Jimin has ever tasted, but it isn’t a flavor he’s keen to eat much of.

A quick look over at Yoongi shows almost the same reaction, Yoongi scrunching his nose in distaste. Still, the king is polite when he looks up from his bowl and gives the representative a small head nod of appreciation.

He then looks over at the minister and Yingyue who sit at a table further to the left, as a token of thanks for the present. When the minister and his wife are no longer paying attention, Yoongi pushes his dish off to the side. “It’s the thought that counts,”

Jimin reasons as he takes one more sip before determining that he doesn’t want any more either, “but his wife is a real piece of work.” “Oh?” Yoongi asks as he takes a piece of pork that’s more native to east Joseon cuisine. Jimin smiles softly at Yoongi,

taking brushing a strand of long blonde hair over his husband’s shoulder, simply fidgeting. “Don’t worry about it my king,” he assures, “This isn’t the place to spill such pieces of gossip.” Yoongi doesn’t look pleased by the response,

but he seems understanding of the fact that this isn’t the most ideal place to explain such things. Although Jimin would like justice to come to Yingyue for her thoughtless comment, he doesn’t want to bring such trivial matters to bear in front of all of Joseon.

The feast concludes after the majority of the dishes have been finished off. Everyone is full of delicious foods and given a small gift of songpyeon to take home to their families. To finish off the evening, a grandiose display of fireworks lights up the night sky

just south of the palace. It’s a performance that even those living in various parts of Hanyang outside of the palace walls can admire as the final impression of this year’s grandiose festival. With each boom that goes off overhead, Jimin feels a bit more of his mind relax.

He heads to his quarters a little after nine o’clock, body heavy and sagging after such a long day. At least tomorrow he’ll be able to sleep until daybreak, won’t have to be burdened by his heavy ceremonial clothes,

doesn’t have to worry about remaining pristine and picturesque the entire day. The foreign dignitaries will leave in the morning to return to their native lands, leaving the palace to finally quieten after four days of bustling.

Jimin knows he’s not the only one who will welcome the simplicity of the mundane after these past three days. Jimin welcomes his sleepwear, rolling his neck once the crown is no longer nestled over his head. “Tomorrow, we can go back to normal,”

Jimin sighs happily as he quickly drinks his evening tea with Jungkook in his quarters. He’s far too tired to even think about visiting Yoongi tonight. “I think I’ll write any hanja Namjoon gives me with a smile on my face.” “I’ll tell Namjoon-hyung about that offer,”

Jungkook teases as Jimin hurriedly sips his tea, “You should rest well tonight. You’ve been so busy these past three days, you have to be bone tired.” Jimin nods before tipping his tea back, “I am. I don’t think I could review my studies from before Chuseok even if I tried.”

Jungkook takes the now-empty teacup from Jimin and cleans up the desk in the antechamber while Jimin rises to his feet and heads to his bedchambers. “You work too hard, Jimin-hyung,” Jungkook says with a soft chuckle, “Goodnight, hyung.”

Jimin watches as Jungkook lets himself out with the dirty dishes from tea, “Goodnight Jungkook-ah. Rest well yourself tonight, okay?” Jungkook gives a hearty nod before he closes the door behind him. Finally alone,

Jimin shuffles off to his bedchambers before he quickly drifts off to sleep. The room is still dark when Jimin wakes up, only the softest amount of bright moonlight shining in through his paper windows. He doesn’t know what has woken him up when the cause comes again,

rolling violently in his stomach. He barely has time to dash up from his bed, reaching for the bucket he uses for waste and depositing his stomach contents into it without care. Tears sting at the corners of his eyes as he retches violently into the bucket,

stomach quickly trying to upheave itself entirely. For what feels like hours, Jimin empties everything into the bucket, coughing and dry-heaving until his stomach begins to cramp. Sweat beads at his forehead as he regains the strength to climb onto his own two legs,

muscles shaking and straining at the need to try and stand. With ample help from the wall holding his weight, Jimin manages to stand upright again, slowly making his way over to the drawers where he finds his robe to make himself decent.

He needs to find a servant or a guard who can call for the royal healer, or at the very least, get him something for the awful taste left in his mouth. “Guards! Servants! Someone!” Jimin calls out to no response,

not even from the guard who is positioned just outside of his quarters. When he opens the door to the outside, looking out at the courtyard just in front of his quarters something vile fills his nose. The sharp scent calls him to immediate attention,

before he places the scent as the smokiness of fire licking at wood. Beneath it though is the pungent stench of blood, before Jimin notices the bodies left of those who’d been stationed just before his quarters. Suddenly, the idea of water or a healer falls to the wayside.

Despite his body’s haggard condition, he grabs his sword from its spot in front of the doors to his quarters. He slides the strap of the sheath over his head, tying his robe on tighter and heads down the steps to the guards’ positions. Both of them have their necks sliced open,

blood bubbling up from their wound and spilling onto the gravel. The sound of gravel quickly crunching beneath feet immediately calls Jimin to attention, whipping out his sword and holding it in front of him. He holds firmly onto the grip,

channeling every lesson that Yoongi had given him with exact precision. “Hyung!” Jungkook exclaims as he bursts through the gate in the wall that separates Jimin’s quarters from the rest of the royal estate, “We’re under attack!”

His attendant is still wearing his worn sleeping clothes, with only a pair of shoes hastily slipped on in his rush. “What!?” Jimin exclaims, though the proof is still laying in a crumpled mess next to his quarters, “By whom!?” Jungkook shakes his head in ignorance,

“Princess Yoonji is violently sick with poison.” Jimin feels his blood run cold at the realization that his bout with illness earlier had been purposeful. “Some guards have disappeared and others have turned up dead,” he continues, “but we don’t know who’s behind it all!”

“We need to hurry,” Jimin resolves without thought beyond the innate need to be at Yoonji’s side immediately, “Yoongi can protect himself, but if Yoonji is sick...”

Jungkook nods as he turns on his heel, only for a guard to cut them off as they move towards the inner part of the palace. Barely a moment passes before the guard withdraws his sword and draws a slice across Jungkook’s chest, blood spilling out and staining his clothes red.

As Jungkook crumples to the ground, there is only one thought that crosses his mind when he plunges his own sword deep into the guard’s chest. /I need to protect my family./

chapter tw // - poisoning - vomiting - jimin kills people in self-defense

Once the guard is lifeless on the ground, Jimin hurriedly reaches for Jungkook, who groans low in his throat. “Jungkook-ah!” Jimin shrieks, stomach turning again, though this time it’s from fear rather than poison, “Are you okay!?”

Jimin helps Jungkook onto his back to assess the injury. “No!” Jungkook says with eyes wide with terror, “I just got attacked by our own guard!” Jimin checks on the slash across Jungkook’s chest, heart hammering wildly in his chest.

The smell of burning grows stronger as the fire begins to ebb closer to the royal estate. Upon further inspection, Jungkook’s wound seems to be mostly superficial, rather than anything immediately life threatening. “Go to my quarters,” Jimin instructs,

pointing at the small building behind them, “Use any of the hanbok in there to soak up the blood. Don’t remove the fabric to check on the wound at all. It’s important to allow the blood to clot naturally.” “Why are you telling me this?”

Jungkook asks as Jimin helps him back to his feet, “You can’t be thinking about leaving your quarters. The king wouldn’t allow it!” “I’m going to Yoonji,” Jimin surmises with such confidence and determination that even Jungkook has trouble refuting the resolution,

“Hide in my quarters.” “I’ll go too then,” Jungkook proposes, but Jimin simply shakes his head. “You don’t have a blade,” Jimin says as he motions to the sheathed sword against his hip, “I can’t allow you to. Now go, quickly! I have to hurry.”

A moment of contemplation takes over Jungkook before he sighs heavily, clutching his torn fabric against his chest. The king consort is correct; especially in this state, Jungkook would be nothing more than liability. He turns to make his way to Jimin’s quarters.

“I will hide in the dressing room, behind the doors that hold your myeonbok,” Jungkook informs, “I will wait for only your voice.” Jimin grabs the hilt of his blade, withdrawing it to grant himself protection against whatever he may face. “I will return for you.”

Jimin carefully opens the gate that separates his quarters from the central courtyard of the royal estate where the royal dining room and library sit. The middle of the estate separates the women’s and men’s quarters from one another, but now,

it seems to be the middle of a warzone instead. The royal dining room where Jimin has had countless meals, spend ample time with his family, is ablaze with thick flames. Plumes of black smoke reach up towards the sky,

the orange and red light illuminating the entire courtyard of the royal estate. There doesn’t seem to be anyone mulling around and Jimin knows that time is of the essence now. With one large breath in, he presses the sleeve of his robe against his mouth and nose

to combat the smoke before he passes through the gate. He knows the way to Yoonji’s quarters is not far, but it seems like it might be a kilometer or five away with the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He hugs the wall that connects all of the female quarters to the central courtyard, keeping a keen eye out for anyone trying to approach him. It seems that the thick billowing of smoke has rendered the central part of the estate as clear,

but when Jimin makes his way to Yoonji’s quarters, it seems to be another matter. There are a few guards crawling all around the perimeter, eyes set on the sight of Yoonji’s quarters. Finally, the lack of footwear is finally a blessing as Jimin sneaks up on three of the guards,

slicing their necks before anyone even takes notice of him. By the time that the third body is crumpling to the ground, the now-dead guard lets out a groan that alerts everyone of Jimin’s presence. “The King Consort! Jihyeok-nim said to kill him!”

The two guards that are remaining quickly try to flank Jimin, but thanks to Yoongi’s astute teaching and coaching, Jimin easily keeps himself from the length of their blades. A swift swipe of his sword against one of the guards’ chest

and the plunging of the tip into the other’s neck has both of Jimin’s enemies crashing to the ground. When the courtyard just before Yoonji’s quarters are safe, Jimin hurriedly dashes up the stairs to find Yuwon’s body laying in front of Yoonji’s room.

The man had died protecting his assignment, his blade buried in an enemy’s chest, opening himself up to be felled. “Yoonji-ya!” Jimin says as he hastily throws open Yoonji’s bedchamber door, taking quick steps to the royal princess’s bed. Yoonji lays in her bed, pale, but alive.

Her eyes barely flutter open, her breathing shallow. “O-Orabeoni?” Jimin sheathes his sword and collapses to kneel next to Yoonji’s bed, brushing her black bangs out of her vision. “It’s Jimin-orabeoni,” Jimin informs as he presses a hand against her forehead.

She is burning up, though her skin looks clammy and she shivers. “Yoonji-ya, can you drink water?” Yoonji opens her lips, but barely a croak passes them. Jimin hurries to her antechambers, where he finds a small jug of water, taking it entirely into Yoonji’s bedchambers.

“Have you thrown up at all?” Yoonji shakes her head, but it’s clear that doing so exerts quite a bit of effort from the princess. “You need to,” Jimin informs, helping prop Yoonji up and gathering the bucket she uses for nightly relief. Luckily, it is empty.

He helps the princess sit up as he places the bucket in her lap, gathering up her hair to pull it back. The princess leans over the bucket, but nothing comes. Only the sound of a beam of wood from the dining hall crashing to the ground fills the royal estate.

“Yoonji-ya, we’ve all been poisoned. You have to throw it up, or it may kill you.” After a long moment of trying to dredge up anything, Yoonji slowly shakes her head in defeat. Jimin shudders to himself as he steels himself to do what he must.

After killing multiple people already, blood soaking into his treasured night clothes, there is little that seems to be too grotesque. Yet still, he closes his eyes and presses his finger down the princess’s throat,

until she finally gags around his finger and begins vomiting into the bucket. Jimin turns his head to avert his nose from the stench, but it still wafts up and hits him with its pungency anyways.

He holds her hair back and gently wipes a sleeve across her forehead to soak up her sweat. For minutes, Jimin simply waits with Yoonji while she expels all of the poison from her body, all of the contents of her dinner collecting in the bucket. When she is finally finished,

left with nothing but dry-heaving, Jimin hurries to give her a teacup full of water. He refills it twice with water, forcing her to drink to try and dilute whatever may remain of the toxins in her body.

Watching as Yoonji slowly regains some of her lucidity puts Jimin’s heart at ease. “What’s happening, Orabeoni?” Yoonji asks groggily as Jimin puts another teacup of water to her lips. “We’re under attack,” Jimin explains simply, “But I don’t know who is behind it.”

“Those dirty dogs,” Yoonji quips as she allows Jimin to give her more water, “I bet it was that Chinese minister and his wife.” “We don’t know that,” Jimin reminds, “It could have been anyone at the banquet.” “Where is my brother?” Yoonji asks simply.

Jimin swallows hard as his mind quickly rushes towards his husband. He’d been so concerned with reaching Yoonji and caring for her, that he hadn’t even had a moment to think much about Yoongi. There was no word at all where the king was, if he was even still alive.

It’s clear that if someone wanted to take the throne so badly as to poison the entire royal family, that Yoongi was likely the greatest target. “I don’t know,” Jimin admits hollowly, fear striking through his every fiber of being. “Go to him,” Yoonji instructs,

taking the cup of water from Jimin’s hand. “I can’t,” Jimin refutes as Yoonji props herself up against the wall behind her bed, allowing himself freedom to movement again, “I don’t know where he is. And there will be no one to protect you. Yuwon-nim is dead.”

“But Orabeoni!” Yoonji cries out, “I can’t lose my older brother!” “It is too dangerous right now,” Jimin says sternly, “It is better for me to stay here and protect you than to venture out randomly on my own and get us both killed.”

Yoonji’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears of terror, though even she has to agree on a simply logical basis. “You know as well as I do that Yoongi-jeonha is fighting his way to your quarters as we speak.” All that Jimin and Yoonji can do while they wait is listen

as the dining room slowly collapses due to the raging fire. With the heavy tension built up and Yoonji’s ragged state, neither of them want to say anything. Jimin waits by the door to Yoonji’s bedchamber, hand poised on his sword handle as they listen keenly to try

and discern any sounds of intruders. Perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes pass before Jimin hears a small band of guards running up to the quarters. As they enter the antechamber, the leader barks out, “The Princess should be poisoned to death by now,

but we need to bring her head to Jihyeok-nim to prove it.” Jimin swallows hard as he unsheathes his sword and waits for the guards to open the door, unexpecting any fight. When the paper door slides open, Jimin lets out a small cry before he quickly slashes across their chests,

cutting each guard down without mercy. In the brief tussle, Jimin feels a burst of heat against his thigh, but he pays it no mind as he digs his sword into the last man’s chest. He watches as the man quickly loses his consciousness,

hurriedly grabbing onto the man’s collar and shaking him, “Who is Jihyeok!?” “Park... Jihyeok...” the guard says before he passes onto the next world. Jimin quickly drags all of the guards’ bodies into Yoonji’s dressing room, hoping that if another round of guards comes,

they won’t be drawn to attention by their dead comrades. “Yoonji-ya, do you know who Park Jihyeok is?” Jimin asks once he has cleaned up as best he can and closed the door to Yoonji’s quarters and her bedchambers once again. Unfortunately, Yoonji only shakes her head,

“I don’t know that name. But I don't know much about men’s politics.” For another ten minutes, the two wait in tense silence. It is taking Yoongi too long to come, but Jimin knows he cannot risk leaving Yoonji’s quarters now. As the sole sibling to the king,

the only other person with pure royal blood in the nation, she is his greatest priority now. The smell of fire grows stronger, but Jimin only hopes it’s the royal estate’s personal library that has now caught fire. After a long while of waiting,

the sound of shoes running over gravel pulls Jimin back to full attention. He withdraws his sword as the footsteps climb up the steps, the front door to the quarters flung open hastily. “Yoonji-ya!” a deep voice calls out desperately. “Hyung!” Jimin cries,

quickly sheathing his sword and throwing open the bedchamber door. Yoongi stands in the middle of Yoonji’s antechamber, chest heaving as he rushes towards his sister’s bedchamber. Without a thought in his head, Jimin barrels forward to crush himself against Yoongi’s strong chest.

“We’re safe, both of us.” Yoongi’s drops his sword to the ground as he gathers Jimin up in his arms, kissing over Jimin’s cheeks which are becoming wet with relieved tears. “Thank the heavens you are here, my peony,” he says as he looks over Jimin’s shoulder

to see Yoonji propped up in her bed, sipping water,“And you protected Yoonji?” Jimin nods, nose beginning to run with how readily his tears flow down his cheeks. He’d forced himself not to think about all the terrible things that could have happened to his husband out of terror,

but seeing him here, in the flesh, brings a fresh wave of comfort. The king’s arms are tight around Jimin’s shoulders, hand smoothing down Jimin’s hair lovingly. Jimin buries his nose into Yoongi’s neck, greedily breathing in the scent of his husband’s sweat.

“She was sick with poison,” he explains, “So I helped her to expel it and protected her when the guards came to harm her.” “My peony,” Yoongi breathes out as he gives Jimin a quick, but thorough, kiss. “I am glad I can trust you fully, my Jimin.”

Jimin feels a lump form in the back of his throat at the admission, realizing that he’s never craved anything as much as Yoongi’s trust before. He gently reaches down, fingers ghosting over the spot where the guard had nicked Jimin’s thigh. By now,

the wound has already clotted shut, though the fabric remains torn. “They injured you, my peony.” “It is only a scratch,” Jimin says, shaking his head dismissively, “Don’t worry about me. Go to see Yoonji, she worried so much about you.”

The king tears himself away from his husband, only to enter Yoonji’s bedchambers where he kneels down to check the princess over. Behind him, Namjoon and Hoseok both stand, blood drenching their swords and clothes. “I’m glad to see both of you unharmed,” Jimin says,

almost feeling embarrassed now that he realizes both had been witness to Jimin and Yoongi’s blatant display of affection. “I’m glad you’re alive,” Namjoon says as he gives Jimin a dimpled smile and a pat on the back. Hoseok quickly gathers Jimin up in a friendly, desperate hug.

“We thought for sure we’d taken too long to get here for there to be anything but tragedy.” Jimin shakes his head, “I came over here as soon as Jungkook told me about Yoonji’s condition. I took care of the guards that tried to infiltrate her chambers.”

Jimin opens the door to Yoonji’s dressing room where the guards’ bodies are still fresh. “Holy heavens,” Hoseok breathes out, “You did all of this yourself, Jiminie?” Upon the head nod that Jimin gives, Hoseok lets out a low, amazed whistle. “Remember who taught you the basics.”

For the first time all evening, Jimin cracks a smile at Hoseok’s marveling. Yoongi returns from the bedchambers, closing the door to the room softly behind him. “I believe Yoonji is no longer in danger from the poison, though it will take her some time to recover.

While we’re all safe now, we still have no leads as to who is behind this plot.” Jimin slowly lifts his head to face Yoongi, “I overheard the guards a few times and I asked one of them who it was, but he died before he could tell me anything but the leader's name.”

All three set of eyes immediately turn to Jimin, three gazes piercing into him with ferocity. “Do you guys know a Park Jihyeok?” “No fucking way,” Namjoon breathes out as he turns to his comrades. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Hoseok agrees.

“That bastard! I should have cut his head off while I had the chance,” Yoongi curses. Jimin, conversely, blinks in confusion at the outrage from all three men. “Should I know who that is?” Hoseok looks up at Jimin first. “Jimin-ah,” he says, waiting for Jimin to nod,

“Do you remember the Park genealogy book?” Jimin’s jaw drops open at the reminder as it becomes clear to him. “He is the man you replaced in the Park family.”

chapter tags // - graphic violence

- threats - i am really not good at writing action scenes

“You’re telling me he isn’t dead!?” Jimin shrieks, barely believing his ears at Hoseok’s words, “Why wouldn’t you make sure that the man is dead before you replace him in the genealogy book?” Hoseok shrugs his shoulders innocently,

pointing at Yoongi with his eyes in an attempt to clear his name, “He deserted the kingdom and he knew that if he returned, he’d be swiftly beheaded. We didn’t really expect him to stage an entire uprising.” “And why would he be attacking the kingdom anyways?” Jimin asks,

though his question is mostly directed towards Yoongi, who must know why such a man would be vying for the king’s head. Instead, it is Namjoon who speaks up, with his steady voice almost giving Jimin an aura of calm.

“He and his father were quite strong supporters of Yoongi’s father,” he explains, before pointedly turning his gaze to Yoongi, “Perhaps it has something to do with when someone here beheaded his father in front of the entire court as an example.”

Yoongi frowns at both of his closest friends’ explanation, though his lack of rage at their words must deem them at least somewhat true. “Had he not been a coward and stolen away in the middle of the night, I would have cut his head off as well,” the king counters,

“It seems that I will be able to rectify my mistake now though.” A loud crash from the center courtyard reminds all of them of the task at hand. Another beam falling from either the library or the dining hall sounds across the entire royal estate.

“Jungkook is hiding in my quarters,” Jimin says as they all realize that time is quickly falling through their fingertips. It is only a matter of time before more guards come to attack, until they are all in danger again.

If word gets out that the king, king consort, and royal princess are all in the same quarters, it will be swarmed. “He told me he is in the closet.” “Hoseok-ah,” Yoongi turns to his left minister, “Can you retrieve the royal attendant and bring him here?

Namjoon and Jimin can defend Yoonji while you are away.” Hoseok gives a small salute, withdrawing his blade from its sheath. “Don’t dawdle; you all will be stronger together.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Hoseok says to both Namjoon and Yoongi as he peaks his head out of the front door of Yoongi’s quarters, “I’ll be back before you even know it.” With a few light steps, he steals away into the night.

“Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi says with a firm hand on the right minister’s shoulder, “You are to protect Yoonji and Jimin-” “No,” Jimin says sternly, both men turning to look at Jimin with equally surprised expressions, “I refuse to let you go alone, my king.”

“You will not come,” Yoongi commands, “I cannot risk your safety.” “You cannot risk my safety, but you expect me to wait here without knowing if you’re safe or not!?” Jimin demands, taking a step forward towards his husband with fire glowing in his eyes,

“You need someone to watch your back; so trust me.” Yoongi’s eyes glower harshly into Jimin’s, searching for some reason to withhold Jimin here in Yoonji’s quarters. “It would pain me to put you in such danger,” he says.

“It would pain me to stay,” Jimin counters immediately, “More than you could possibly know.” “Having you there would encourage me to fight harder,” Yoongi resolves, before he sighs, “You know there is no one else in the world that I value more.”

Jimin squares his shoulders up as Yoongi motions for them to head out into the night. “Let’s go, my peony.”

The two exit out of Yoonji’s quarters and then exiting out of the gate that separates her courtyard from the center of the royal estate. The library is now full of ash and cinders, the remnants of flames dashing across any unsinged part of the building.

They don’t have any idea where to find the leader of this entire operation, but knowing that Yoongi is the most sought after target leads them back to the king’s quarters. As expected, they find the king’s quarters crawling with guards. “Let us sneak up on them,”

Yoongi whispers to Jimin’s immediate agreement. Together, they take down three guards before anyone catches notice of them. “The Kings! Kill them!” the guard who catches notice of them yells, turning everyone’s attention to the two royals.

It seems as though a swarm of enemies comes for them, but Yoongi and Jimin keep their heads cool and the aim of their swords swift.

“I don’t remember us having so many guards,” Jimin quips as he slashes across one guard’s chest before he quickly turns to his right and cuts another down in one swift motion. “Many of them are not our employees,” Yoongi informs as he deals with his own enemies.

Together, the two maintain a full circle of attack, their backs against one another as they fell the intruders. When the onslaught is finished, perhaps ten bodies lie at the kings’ feet. “These men are outsiders.” “How can you tell?” Jimin asks as Yoongi looks over the bodies,

clearly searching for something. When the king finally finds what he’s looking for, he shows Jimin the piece of parchment that is now soaked in the man’s blood, “I heard them earlier; some of them were speaking in a dialect other than Korean.”

Jimin reads over the paper, surprised when he sees that the paper is written in hangul, rather than hanja. “Hyung, this is...?” Yoongi nods, “It’s in hangul, which likely means that the intruders are not literate enough to receive instructions in hanja.”

They both scan over the document, which is instructions on what to do with the members of the royal family (behead them) and where the meeting point is for those who succeed in their duties. “The western garden,” Jimin reads aloud,

“In the center of the largest pond on the palace grounds.” “It is far away,” Yoongi says, “But we must go directly to him. Cut off this entire operation at its head.”

Jimin nods as Yoongi folds the paper up and tucks it inside of his overcoat, before withdrawing his sword again. “Are you ready, my peony?” “I will follow you to the ends of the earth, my husband.”

Together, they head towards the western gardens. When Jimin turns south to the entrance of the royal estate, Yoongi simply shakes his head and motions for them to venture northwards. “I know a secret route,” Yoongi says as they make their way through

the central part of the royal estate. They pass the bathhouse before coming to a small part that looks well traversed. “These are the royal servants’ quarters,” Yoongi informs as they make their way through the dead of night,

“There are many such pathways that connect the servants to all parts of the royal estate.” With this being part of the estate that only those familiar with the palace know about, there are relatively few intruders that they come across.

The two that they manage to find are easily cut down by their swords. But it is not until they finally make their way out of the royal estate that Jimin truly feels his heart leap in his chest. “We must be careful,” Yoongi instructs, “We do not know if there are archers.”

Jimin realizes now that even in the midst of a large garden such as on the royal palace grounds, that they might still be in danger of an attack. They make haste, crouched over as they traverse over the pathways and through the grass and trees that line the gardens.

Somehow, they manage to make it without running into anyone else, but perhaps the guards are all still busy sniffing around the royal estate. When they approach the pond, they find a small, wooded area to convene in.

“Is there anything I should know about this Park Jihyeok?” Jimin asks in a frantic, whispered tone. “He’s quite skilled with a blade,” Yoongi begins, “and he loves nothing more than himself and his family’s lineage.

He’ll probably tell us everything that we want to know without much difficulty.” “So, it should be easy?” Jimin resolves. “Do not let your guard down, my peony,” Yoongi begs, taking Jimin’s hand into his own, “He is a smart man.

He likely will try to focus on you, for no reason but to hurt me. Take every swordsmanship lesson I’ve given you to heart.” “I will be strong,” Jimin promises, leaning in to give the king one passionate kiss, “And we will be victorious.”

The two take off towards the pond, where there is a singular bridge that connects the pavilion to the mainland. The last time that Jimin had been here had been months ago, to convince Yoongi to let him study law.

To think that now he must face the terrible evil threatening his husband here sends a shiver down his spine. Still, his heart races in his chest as Yoongi and Jimin set foot on the wood of the bridge. The bridge naturally creaks with the weight of their bodies,

unable to avoid the groaning of the wood as they cross over the pond. When they finally reach the pavilion, Jimin steadies his breathing as best as he can. Park Jihyeok is a large man. Perhaps even larger than Namjoon with his vast muscles and tall stature.

He looks more akin to a body guard than a scholar or a minister of the court. His eyes are wide, full of fire and anger as he takes in the two before him. His face is long with a square jaw that gives him a tough appearance.

He wears a set of clothes that are more aligned to the styles of dress of the Manchu people than that of a Korean. “So you have decided to come to me with your heads still on, have you?”

“I have been meaning to rid you of yours,” Yoongi answers coolly as Jimin carefully watches Yoongi’s back. It doesn’t seem to be that there is anyone else on the pavilion, yet still, Jimin makes sure to keep an eye out for anyone who might attempt to cross the bridge to them.

“I’m glad that you’ve made it easy by returning to Joseon, rather than hiding out like a pitiful coward.” There is a loud growl from Jihyeok that sends Jimin’s heart racing frantically. “You are the coward! Taking the throne from your father by spilling his blood!

Your head ought to be on a pike for the things you’ve done!” “You wouldn’t agree if you knew all of the vile things my wretched father had done,” Yoongi says in a low voice, seemingly unaffected by Jihyeok’s rage. “But the time for talking is over,

now I must finish the business I started when I decapitated your father in the middle of the court room.” Jimin barely turns his head around to hold his arm up as Jihyeok attempts to barrel into both of the kings with his burly figure.

Still, Jimin is flung off to the side, head thunking painfully against the side of the column. Dazing Jimin for a moment while he regains his bearings, Yoongi rushes forward to attack Jihyeok, only for the man to whip his own sword out, deflecting Yoongi’s attack.

Their blades grind against one another for a moment, before Jihyeok’s strength overpowers the king, sending him backwards.

Yet instead of chase after his opponent, Jihyeok quickly turns his attention back to Jimin, still clutching the side of his head where he’d hit it against the wood. With only a few quick steps, he grabs onto Jimin’s neck, hoisting him up into the air.

Jimin’s feet dangle precariously as he tries to claw at the hands holding him up, unable to suck in any breath at all. “Let him go!” Yoongi screams, chasing at Jihyeok with his sword raised up to slash at the man.

Jimin’s entire body swings to the left as Jihyeok moves out of the way of Yoongi’s blade, but it gives Jimin enough of an angle to deliver a swift kick to the large man’s ribs. Jimin tumbles to floor as Jihyeok reels from the kick,

only for Yoongi to swiftly dive his sword into Jihyeok’s shoulder, using all of his strength to fell his opponent, pinning him to the ground with his sword buried through the flesh of his upper torso.

“Who fucking gave you the resources to do this!?” Yoongi demands right into Jihyeok’s face, snarling with rage akin to a dragon breathing fire.

Jimin recollects himself after the brief choking, gathering his sword to come over to the pavilion where Yoongi has pinned Jihyeok to the ground. Jihyeok almost seems to be undeterred by the king’s blade in his skin, spitting up at Yoongi right in the face.

Jimin clenches his jaw hard as he leans down to punch at Jihyeok’s face once, “Don’t fucking insult my husband like that.” “Why would I answer you two!?” Jihyeok asks, “I’d much rather you suffer.” With a twist of Yoongi’s sword, he digs the blade in deeper, harder.

Yoongi growls deep in his chest as Jimin leans in to snarl right in Jihyeok’s face. “Does Jihyun know?” Jimin demands, “Should we go find him and ask him?” That has Jihyeok’s eyes go wide with fear, “Ji-Jihyun knows nothing!” “Then tell us who does,” Jimin commands.

“The Minister! Xiang Fuling! He wanted to expand from Manchuria into the northern provinces,” Jihyeok explains quickly, “He promised that I would become the King of Joseon if I followed him. I told him that I knew the palace intimately from when my father and I worked here!”

“And the King of Manchuria agreed to such a preposterous notion?” Yoongi asks, almost bemused at the idea of such an act, “Trusting to start a war to a disgraced fugitive?” Jihyeok shakes his head,

“Minister Xiang wanted to claim victory over Joseon before he gifted the king with the Pyeongan and Hamgyeong provinces.” Jimin turns to look at Yoongi, jaw tight at all of the information. It seems as though Jihyeok has spilled all of his useful information to them both.

“My king, do you wish to rectify your mistake yourself?” Jimin holds the handle of his blade out to Yoongi, offering him the sword that the king had so graciously gifted him mere days ago, “Before we go to pay our dear guests Xiang Fuling and Yingyue a visit?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Yoongi says as he takes the sword and finishes the job.

chapter tw // - minor character death - violence

- stabbing

Jimin averts his gaze as Yoongi slices the blade through Jihyeok’s neck. When Yoongi returns the sword to Jimin, it is drenched in blood, the crimson dripping from the edge. “It’s a shame that he will stain the pyeongsang,”

Jimin mourns as he wipes the blood off on his sleeping robe. The entire piece of clothing has already long been ruined. Yoongi pulls his own sword out of the dead man and cleans it briefly before he sheathes it as well. “We’ll replace the entire thing,” he informs,

“Don’t worry, my peony.” Jimin comes up to Yoongi, hand rising naturally as he goes to brush his fingers over the king’s cheek, “You have a cut here.” “It is from when he flung me back,” Yoongi dismisses, blood barely there from the superficial cut,

“How about you? Are you okay after what he did to you?” Jimin nods, though his neck is sore from the grip that their enemy had taken earlier. He is simply lucky that Jihyeok did not squeeze as hard as he could have. “I will be fine.”

Yoongi looks relieved as Jimin gently scrubs at the small amount of the king’s blood left on his cheek. “We shouldn’t waste time,” Jimin reminds once the wound is cleaned, “Let’s hurry before the guards realize we aren’t in the royal estate anymore.”

Together, the two take off towards the building in the far western part of the palace. Compared to how many guards had been crawling around the royal estate, it’s jarring walking through the courtyard to the western quarters.

There doesn’t seem to be a soul out of place here and Jimin can’t help but wonder if they’re falling into a trap. “Keep your eyes peeled,” Yoongi mutters quietly as they both walk through the courtyard before the guest building, hands held on the grip of their swords,

“We must be careful.” “I don’t think they assumed we would meet them here,” Jimin notes as they both walk up to the building without any difficulty or seeing anyone at all. The quarters are still the same as the last time that Jimin had been here

when he’d been a servant for Princess Dahee. Opening the door to the quarters doesn’t trigger any trap, nobody comes to ambush them, simply letting the two walk in freely. “Well, their first mistake was sending a fugitive to do their dirty work,” Yoongi informs

as Jimin closes the door to the quarters, silence filling the entire hallway as the bulk of moonlight is cut off from the inner part of the building, “Probably got cocky and assumed we were both dead already.” Jimin scoffs softly as they make their way down the hallway,

before they come across a palace servant tasked with assisting the two guests. Upon recognizing the two before him, the servant’s eyes go wide, falling to a low bow in front of them. “If you’re stationed here,

then you must be able to speak the same language as the Minister and his wife, correct?” Jimin asks quickly, the servant slowly lifting his head and nodding meekly. “Get them up now; tell them that we want to speak to them immediately.”

The servant hurriedly rushes into the Minister’s bedroom as Jimin turns to his husband. “He is a palace servant,” Jimin explains, “I can tell by his clothes and his face is familiar from when I worked here, but I don’t remember his name. Junhyun? Junseok?”

With a shrug of his shoulders at the unimportant detail, Yoongi gives a solid nod. “I think we can trust him to be loyal.” “While I can understand basic Manchu,” Yoongi adds, “I am not as proficient as my sister.”

After a small bit of frantic speaking in the inner part of the chambers, Yoongi hurriedly flings the door open to the Minister’s bedroom first. “Xiang Fuling!” the king calls out loudly, voice shaking the paper walls,

“I will give you only five minutes to explain to me why I shouldn’t send the King of Manchuria your head in a box full of pig’s dung.” The servant faithfully relays the message to the minister, with Yoongi nodding in agreement at the translation.

For Park Jihyeok’s large stature, Xiang Fuling is almost the opposite. A man of perhaps forty or fifty years old, eyes thin and narrowed, sitting in his bed still wearing gray sleeping robes. “King Min,” he stammers,

pupils wide at the sight before him before he looks behind Yoongi and mutters, “and King Park.” “Next time you try to overthrow a foreign government,” Yoongi sneers as Jimin closes the bedroom door behind him, “maybe you should employ competent help.

I highly doubt that Park Jihyeok was the best you could do.” Fuling slowly scoots back in his bed, as though to create any sort of distance between himself and King Min. He says something to which Yoongi immediately chuckles darkly at before the servant faithfully translates,

“He is truly sorry for the trouble caused and asks for mercy from the kings of Joseon.” Jimin can’t help but laugh at Fuling’s plea. “You poisoned the entire royal family,” Jimin notes before he continues, “hired men to pose as our guards, tried to murder us in our beds,

and promised Park Jihyeok the throne upon our deaths... And yet you ask for mercy!?” Yoongi slowly withdraws his sword as he takes a step closer to Fuling, purposely dragging out the motion just for emphasis. “I will grant you mercy,” Yoongi informs,

“by slicing your head off without sending you to the jails to be tortured to death. For that is what you truly deserve for your actions.” “Please no!” Fuling begs, clambering onto his knees and begging with his hands held in between himself and Yoongi’s blade,

“I will make it up to you!” “Have you any idea the treachery you’ve created here today?” Yoongi implores, though the question is clearly rhetorical, “You’ve jeopardized the relationship between Joseon and Manchuria for what?

To look like some tough man, hiding behind poorly hired help? Truly, you are lucky that I do not retaliate against all of Manchuria by sending my army to her borders!” “I did not mean to start a war,” Fuling pleads, “I truly did not.” Still, Yoongi scoffs at the man’s words.

“Five minutes is up.” He takes another step forward, blade raised up above his head. With a swing of his sword, he silences Fuling forever, the sound of the minister’s head falling to the ground.

As Fuling’s head rolls on the floor, the door to the bedroom opens before a loud, pained scream bursts from Yingyue. Her eyes are wide as she takes in the scene of her husband dead before her. She moves quickly, almost unbelievably so as she aims at Jimin with her fist,

Jimin narrowly avoiding the punch against his back and instead landing the blow into his side, just above his hip. He groans at the impact, but when Yingyue pulls her hand away from his body, her long, delicate fingers are now drenched in blood.

Jimin’s eyes slowly slide down to where she’d hit him, only to find a small, shallow dagger left buried into his side. Somehow, the pain doesn’t even hit him with the shock of the handle sticking out of his body. Everything seems to suddenly come to a standstill.

Yoongi lets out a guttural yell, turning his attention to the wife of the now-dead minister, “You!” He dashes over to the two before he takes Yingyue by the shoulders and slams her against the wooden frame of the door, “I will make you pay!!”

Jimin gingerly brings his hand down to the blade buried in his side, feeling as a searing, burning heat begins to burn through his body from the wound. The pain starts small and concentrated, before it quickly expands and becomes debilitating with its ferocity.

Blood stains his sleeping clothes, the liquid warm against his skin as it starts to spread out from the area. He’s barely aware as Yoongi slices his blade against Yingyue’s throat, joining her with her husband. As Yingyue’s body slumps to the floor,

his breathing starts to become hazy, breathing through it feels like the air doesn’t actually reach his lungs. Slowly, Jimin’s legs begin to wobble as he starts to crumple to the ground, narrowly avoiding collapsing only by Yoongi’s arms that are wrapping around his own.

“Jimin-ah!” Yoongi yells as the king sends the servant out with one command, “Get the royal physician immediately!” He helps lower Jimin to the ground, careful to avoid the dagger sticking out, “My peony, stay with me,” Yoongi begs,

eyes turning glassy as they stare down at his husband. Yet it gets harder to focus on the king’s words as his voice begins to fade away, as though Jimin is running away at full speed. Yoongi gently taps at Jimin’s cheek with eyes full of tears, his voice strained and so far away,

“My Jimin, don’t leave me, you can do it, stay with me, please be strong, my love.” Jimin feels his eyes roll back into his head as he lets himself sink into Yoongi’s arms.

The next thing that Jimin knows is warm. Everything around him is warm, almost as though he’s enveloped into Yoongi’s arms buried beneath a thick winter’s blanket. Soft and fluffy, it feels like he’s floating along aimlessly.

Fuzzy and comfortable, Jimin wants to nestle his head into the coziness against his cheek, but something keeps him stiff and still. Something gently brushes something wet and hot against his forehead. In the depths of his dreams is Yoongi’s voice.

It is quiet, loving, and reassuring. It starts off small, almost inaudible, before it slowly begins to grow. By the time that Jimin is starting to think about opening his eyes, Yoongi’s voice is at full strength.

Yet still he cannot understand any of the king’s words until his eyebrows are twitching with the contemplation of waking. “My peony. I love you. Don’t leave me. Please stay here.” repeated over and over in his ears. Jimin blinks to the sight of a white ceiling above him.

It takes him a moment to place where he knows this ceiling so intimately from, but then it finally comes to him. The king’s bedroom. Discomfort sets in almost instantly upon waking. His mouth is parched, lips dry and cracked,

head thumping loudly and a deep burning blossoming throughout his side. “Jimin-ah!” Yoongi exclaims from the other side of the room the moment that Jimin lets out a single groan, “Thank the gods you are awake.” “Hyung?” Jimin questions,

but his voice is so weak that it barely even escapes as a whisper. Before he can even try again though, Yoongi is rushing over to his side, shushing him gently. “Don’t talk,” he instructs, finally making his way to the bed, bringing a small bowl full of water and a soup spoon,

“Drink, my love.” He carefully gives Jimin a few spoonfuls of water, the sound of the palace bustling around them and the filtering of sunlight into the depths of the bedroom. After drinking a little bit, Yoongi places the bowl onto the desk and heads to the door of the bedroom,

speaking softly to the servant outside. When he comes back to the bed, he’s smiling softly as he looks down at Jimin. “The servants will bring you soup in a moment, rest until then, my peony.” Jimin blinks lazily as Yoongi’s fingers slowly card through his hair lovingly,

a soft, endeared smile stretched across his lips. “What happened...?” he manages to ask, feeling like his body has been hit by a hundred gwan of rice. Yoongi gently leans down to kiss at Jimin’s forehead, his pure unadulterated joy obvious at Jimin’s rousing.

“Shh,” he hushes, “Focus only on healing.” “But the minister’s wife,” Jimin says, feeling winded from the simple words. Yoongi shakes his head as he brushes Jimin’s bangs from his forehead lovingly. “I dealt with her,” Yoongi reassures,

“She is burning in the depths of hell for even thinking to harm you. For now though, rest.” Jimin slowly falls into a light sleep with the feeling of Yoongi’s fingers scratching along his scalp. When he wakes next, there is the soft sound of people talking that wakes him.

For a moment, he squeezes his eyes tighter, trying to retreat back into that comfort of sleep. Then, he recognizes the sound of a woman’s voice and he finally pries his eyes open. “Orabeoni, your husband is awake,” Yoonji says in a quiet voice.

Yoongi quickly comes over to Jimin’s side, helping to prop him up with a few pillows against his back to raise him just a bit. Even with the gentle rustling, Jimin feels a sharp pang of pain zip through his side, wincing at the jostling.

A thick, heavy bandage crinkles against his side, making it more difficult to sit up than he’d expected. “Sorry, Yoonji wanted to see you and the servants just brought your soup,” Yoongi explains as Yoonji brings the desk that the king uses in his bedroom to the side of the bed.

“Do you think you can eat?” Jimin looks at the soup on the desk, a watery broth that’s stained with white, perhaps a bit of tofu. “I think so,” Jimin says, limbs still heavy with exhaustion. “I will taste it for you, my love,” the king announces

before he takes a tentative sip himself, before passing the spoon to Jimin’s lips. Luckily, with both Yoongi and Yoonji’s help, they slowly feed him the soup. The food, though weak, is welcomed in Jimin’s empty stomach. For a long few minutes, they watch as Jimin carefully eats.

When he’s finished for the time, nearly three-fourths of the bowl is gone. “Will you tell me what happened now?” Jimin asks, sighing heavily at the feeling of food settling in his stomach. A bit of strength comes back to him, but he still feels unsteady.

“That dirty dog Yingyue stabbed you in retaliation for her husband's death,” Yoonji readily supplies, seeming as though she’s back to full health, “but it’s lucky for us all that she sucks and didn’t hit anything important.”

“The royal physician worked hard to keep you from bleeding out,” Yoongi continues, “and he gave you some medicine to sleep and let your body heal.” “How long has it been...?” Jimin questions. “Almost three days,” Yoonji informs, “the palace is back to normal now.

Well, except for the parts that the coup burned down. But those can be rebuilt.” Somehow, Jimin accepts the information; it truly feels like it’s been an eternity rather than only three days. “Jungkook?” Both Yoongi and his sister nod. “Namjoon? Hoseok?” Another round of nods.

“Taehyung? Seokjin?” Further confirmation that everyone is okay. “You’re the only one who gave us worry that first day after the attack,” Yoonji adds, “Orabeoni here only took his work in this room where he could watch you all day long.

He hasn’t left since the royal physician first tended to your wound three nights ago.” Jimin’s mouth parts in amazement as Yoongi shrugs the information off as though it was something to be expected. “Correspondence from Manchuria informs us that the minister went rogue

and had been working alone,” Yoongi explains, purposefully shifting the mood, “We are still reinforcing our borders with the neighboring kingdom just in case, but the king has sent official word that he wishes to send us gifts to apologize for the trouble caused by the minister.

In return for not declaring war on their kingdom.” “Will you accept the offer?” Jimin asks. With a nod, Jimin lets out a slightly relieved sigh. “I thought you would dislike it if I started a war on your behalf.” Jimin cracks a soft smile at his husband’s reasoning.

“Thank you, my love,” Jimin says as Yoongi helps him to lay back down properly in the bed, belly satisfied and feeling the pull of exhaustion trying to lull him back to sleep.

Yet, Yoongi shakes his head as he leans down to kiss gently at Jimin’s forehead again, “No, thank you for teaching me there are options other than vengeance.”

Jimin passes the rest of the day in Yoongi’s bed, being roused every few hours to take more soup. The soup slowly grows in nutrients, beginning with some weak vegetables before some bland meat is added, before spices that are meant to encourage healing are added.

After each meal, Jimin is given various medicines courtesy of the royal physician, such as ones to rejuvenate the blood and others to ward off toxins from his wound. The entire time, Yoongi waits on his every need.

Even when he seems to be buried in legal documents, he doesn’t waste a second between Jimin’s soup being delivered and feeding his husband. Throughout the night, various guests drop in to check on him.

“You gave us a real scare,” Hoseok notes as he sits with Namjoon while Yoongi feeds him a weak stew with cabbage and pork, “I’m glad you’re doing alright.”

“We can thank Yoongi-jeonha for that,” Namjoon notes as Yoongi brings a spoonful of soup up to Jimin’s lips, before he hurriedly takes the cloth napkin and dabs at the little bit that trails down Jimin’s chin. “I have to admit though,

I didn’t quite expect to ever see him feeding someone so happily.” “Jimin-ah’s health is important,” Yoongi notes as though such a fact is reason enough, “It is simply a husband’s duty. You will understand one day.” Hoseok and Namjoon exchange knowing looks with one another.

“I can’t wait to get back to studying,” Jimin says as he finishes off the last of the soup with Yoongi doublechecking to make sure he doesn’t want more. With a simple shake of Jimin’s head, the king takes the dirty dishes out into the hall for the servants to clean.

“Maybe in a few days I can head to your offices to study again.” “Ah,” Hoseok says hesitantly, “About that-”

“Jimin-ah does not need that burden now,” Yoongi says as he comes back over to the bed where he fusses with the blankets, making sure to fold them evenly across Jimin’s upper chest so he remains warm despite the cooling temperature of evening.

“You should be excited for me to begin studying again,” Jimin counters, “That means that I’m healed.” The politicians all share one look that has Jimin frowning. “What?” “Don’t worry,” Yoongi says soothingly as he helps to lower Jimin back down to the mattress for more rest,

“Just focus on healing for right now.” “Hyung,” Jimin whines softly, but Yoongi simply tuts his tongue and leans down to kiss at Jimin’s forehead. “Namjoon-hyung? Hoseok-hyung?” Both of the ministers shake their heads as they rise from their floor cushions.

“We’ve got to head out for the night,” Namjoon says, “Listen to your husband and rest well.” With Yoongi returning to his desk and the two ministers leaving the bedroom, Jimin settles in to fall back asleep with a sated stomach.

For the next few days, Jimin is relegated to bed rest while he heals. Each day, the royal physician comes to clean his wound and change his bandages. Every day, Yoongi takes his paperwork in his bedroom, but there comes a time when he is eventually called to court.

While he is away, the task of caring for Jimin falls to Yoonji and Jungkook. Over the next few days, Jimin starts to gain strength again. He quickly doesn’t need help to do things like eat anymore, nor does he need assistance heading to relieve himself.

About ten days have passed when the royal physician is cleaning his wound gently. “It seems to be healing well, your imperial majesty,” he informs as Yoongi watches with a keen eye to make sure Jimin isn’t in any pain,

“I would say you should be free to return to daily life within perhaps two or three days.” “He is healed?” Yoongi questions pointedly. “He is stable enough,” the physician corrects,

“he may return to leisurely activities, but he will need to refrain from anything strenuous for a few more weeks. Perhaps a month.” “That’s a long time,” Yoongi comments.

“I was stabbed,” Jimin reminds, before he turns to the physician to assure, “I’ll make sure to take it as easily as I need to.” “Mind your health,” the doctor suggests as he collects the old bandages and begins packing up his supplies, “There is no shame in taking things easy.”

“If anyone urges you to go faster than you would like, bring them directly to me,” Yoongi threatens, “I will take care of them.” When Jimin finally ventures outside of the king’s quarters, he feels overwhelmed by everything. The sun is so bright on his skin,

the sound of carpentry in the center of the royal estate where the builders are putting together the new dining hall and king’s library, even the wafting of crisping leaves blowing in the wind. “Just take it slow, Jimin-hyung,”

Jungkook urges as they slowly walk out of the king’s quarters and towards the government buildings, “Hoseok-hyung and Namjoon-hyung know to be patient.” “I know,” Jimin says as he takes cautious, slow steps towards the pond. With steady determination,

he makes it to the government buildings, climbing up the giant stone steps only with Jungkook’s help. They open the door to Hoseok’s office, Jimin letting out a small noise of surprise at finding Namjoon inside as well. “I didn’t expect to see you already, Namjoon-hyung.”

“This morning, we will be teaching you together,” Namjoon says as he heads over to watch over Jimin’s movements, dismissing Jungkook with a head nod. “Wait, together?” Jimin questions, “Why?” “There’s not as much time now,” Namjoon says ominously

as he brings Jimin over to the desk where he usually studies with Hoseok, “We need to make haste. Luckily, your mind can continue to work at its previous pace while your body heals.” “What’s going on?” Jimin prods as he looks down at the documents in front of him,

noting that the pieces on the desk seem to be actual legal papers, rather than texts meant for students. “First Yoongi-hyungnim is being all secretive and now this?” Namjoon looks over at Hoseok, “Trust us when we say that we want to tell you, but we just can’t.”

“We’ll just be studying in here for the morning,” Hoseok informs, “and then we’ll go to do some practical studying in the afternoon.” “What do you mean by ‘practical studying’?” Jimin asks to no response. “We don’t have much time, so let’s get started,” Namjoon suggests,

completely ignoring Jimin’s question. The three study using the legal documents to teach Jimin both laws and the hanja necessary. The breadth of the material presented to Jimin is extremely vast,

ranging from trivial matters about the budget allocated for next year’s lunar new year festival to military orders for the generals on the borders of Joseon and Manchuria. They finish studying the last document just as the bell rings out to break for lunch.

With Jimin’s delicate condition, the meal is taken inside of Hoseok’s office where they won’t have to travel. A meal of grilled pork, white rice, and dried seaweed is presented to them, along with Jimin’s daily medicine from the royal physician.

“So what are we doing this afternoon?” Jimin asks as he wraps a piece of dried seaweed around a bit of white rice, “Or am I still not allowed to know?” “He’s going to find out soon,” Hoseok appeals to Namjoon who sighs heavily with a defeated nod, “We’re headed to court today.”

Jimin nearly drops his seaweed and rice on its way to his mouth, “What do you mean, we’re heading to court?” “You’re going to watch how court sessions proceed,” Namjoon explains, “You won’t be involved in any of the decision making process,

but you’ll be present to learn the proper way that the councilors and ministers meet daily. The topics we’ll be discussing today are the ones that we learned about this morning.” Jimin feels both excitement and fear at the idea of finally stepping foot in the court room.

While he’d been studying so diligently for the past few months, the reason for such diligence had almost been forgotten in the back of his mind. He’d constantly told himself one more law, one more hanja, one more historical fact for so long

that he’d overlooked the whole reason he was studying in the first place. “Don’t look so scared!” Hoseok laughs as he urges Jimin to actually eat the food in his chopsticks, “You don’t have to do anything but listen. I won’t even ask for you to take notes.

That’s what the notetakers are for.” “There are people who take notes for you?” Jimin asks in awe. Hoseok and Namjoon simply laugh at his amazement.

Once the three are finished eating lunch, they head out to the court building. With lunch settling in his stomach and the excitement of finally seeing what an actual court looks like in session, Jimin hardly even remembers to take it easy.

When they finally reach the court building, it feels so grandiose and stately that Jimin almost wonders if he’s truly allowed to go in. By contrast, Hoseok and Namjoon easily climb the few steps to reach the building, motioning quickly for Jimin to follow them.

When the three enter the large room, the rowdiness quiets to a murmured hush. Before them are the various ministers and the councilors, all taking their seats at their desks. The ministers sit behind the councilors, showing their lower status compared to the court.

In the middle of the room is a long aisle that stretches to the front of the room where a throne sits, less ornate than the phoenix throne in the throne room, but still elegantly carved and polished. Off to either side of the throne are two smaller spaces where

Namjoon and Hoseok stride up to in order to take their seats. Hoseok motions for Jimin to come to the front, procuring a seat for Jimin to sit on while he observes court for the day. Traditionally, there were well over seventy members of court for each usual day of session.

With all of the vacancies as a result of the king’s temper, there are perhaps only fifty men present from the council to the lowest ranking ministers. When Jimin is seated,

the room starts to grow lively again once the attention is away from him. He’s seen many of these ministers and councilors before during the various state functions and from his own wedding and coronation,

but he can’t quite place any names to them. He tries to remember all of the different titles and the factions of government, trying to figure out if he can guess which branch everyone belongs to.

Hoseok and Namjoon give their short greetings to the lower members of the council beneath them, introducing Jimin to the seven other men that make up the state council. The ministers further away from the throne try to subtly steal glances at the king consort,

whispering amongst themselves at the guest in their midst. A loud gong rings out from the front of the room, with everyone quickly scrambling to bow low as they wait for the king to arrive. “Don’t worry about bowing with your bandages,”

Hoseok mentions from his own respectable position as Jimin flounders for half a second. Then, Yoongi enter the hall and Jimin realizes he doesn’t need to be worried at all. With quick, confident steps, the king enters.

He gives a cursory glance to the court before his eyes fall upon Jimin sitting upright, but paying attention not to strain his wound. Slowly, a smile twitches at the corner of Yoongi’s mouth as he gives a small head nod to his husband in greeting. Jimin returns the gesture,

heart fluttering at how Yoongi acts as though the two are alone in the vast room. “You all may rise,” Yoongi announces as he takes his seat at the throne, placing his paperwork on the desk in front of him, “Before we begin session today,

I would like to introduce our honorable guest. The revered King Consort Park Jimin has graced us with his presence. He will be observing court from now on.” Yoongi looks out amongst the council members and ministers, as though to personally lock eyes with each one.

“Should anyone show my husband even the slightest disrespect, I will not hesitate to remove their head.” Jimin gives a polite bow as best he can with his bandages as the court calls in unison, “Welcome, honorable King Consort.”

chapter tw // - mention of child abuse - mention of child labor

Jimin observes court every day, sitting in the corner of the vast room and watching as he catches up on the latest happenings in the government. During the morning, he reviews the materials for the agenda with Hoseok and Namjoon before the three head out

to the court hall for session each afternoon. As he continues to study, many of the characters on the page turn repetitive and it’s only a few weeks before he’s reading through the corresponding documents with ease. Hoseok is a supreme teacher of law,

making connections that help Jimin realize explain other facets of law and government he’d overlooked before. The things that court discusses are actually quite boring. Mundane sessions drag on for what feel like hours over if the taxation rate for Gangwon province

should be increased by 0.01% for the coming harvest season. The ministers bicker between one another at length if the next civil servantry examination should be held at a temple in western Hanyang or eastern Hanyang.

Even the smallest things that Jimin thought would result in an easy agreement like reducing the harsh sentence against starving children stealing food for their families is met with stern resistance. By the end of the day,

Jimin feels his head spinning every day with how many times the ministers have thrown their opinions back and forth. Jimin undresses from his day out in Yoongi’s dressing room, aided by Jungkook who dismisses himself once Jimin is in sleeping clothes.

Though officially, Jimin still sleeps in his quarters, the reality is that he hasn’t been in his own bed since before the attack on the royal family almost a month and a half ago. Yoongi’s servant brings both the kings their evening tea and Jimin his medicine

for his still-healing wound. When the two are seated at the beautifully lacquered desk, Jimin grimaces at the bitter taste of his medicine, before chasing it down with the light tea. “Do the ministers always bicker about such useless topics?” Jimin questions,

“I can’t believe that Minister Huang was so passionate about continuing to beat literal children.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders as he sips at his tea. “Minister Huang has always argued evil’s sake for the sport of it,” Yoongi says,

“That’s why it’ll be good to have someone in the court with a pure heart.” Jimin nods in agreement before Yoongi adds, “I mean you.” The blatant mention of Jimin actually participating as a member of court has him sipping his tea quickly, gently coughing at the suddenness.

“I don’t know if I’ll be any help really,” Jimin admits, “I’m still studying.” “Nonsense,” Yoongi waves a hand dismissively, “You’ll be wonderful on the council.” Jimin stares down at his herbal tea, admiring the soft red hue to the drink as he silently frets.

How can he possibly catch up to his husband and friends when they’ve studied so diligently for years? Yoongi, however, gently presses a hand against Jimin’s upper knee, pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts before they can dig down too deep. “Jimin-ah, you’re not alone,”

Yoongi says softly as Jimin pulls his gaze up to stare into his husband’s eyes, “I know it can certainly feel like the entire court is just at one another’s throats, trying to fight for some strange semblance of glory.” Jimin gently sets his tea cup down on its saucer,

the ceramic clinking together as he slowly nods, “I don’t want to be the reason everyone has to slow down or simplify things for.” He tears his gaze from Yoongi’s as the thoughts tumble around inside of his head violently, his worst demons taunting him with their vile words.

“Maybe the world of politics isn’t meant for someone of the cheonmin class after all...” “Don’t think like that,” Yoongi says resolutely, fingers squeezing at Jimin’s skin reassuringly, “The court has one true aim at its core; the prosperity of Joseon.

We all want our glorious nation to continue to thrive. Though individual ministers may align with one political party or another, everyone has Joseon’s best interests at heart. Despite our differences, we must work together as a team.

That is the only way to truly make the country rise to her peak.” With his words, Jimin can feel just how passionately Yoongi feels about both the sake of the nation and Jimin’s heart at the same time. Jimin bites at his bottom lip as he slowly brings his eyes up

to lock onto Yoongi’s once again, leaning forward just enough to brush their lips against one another. “Hyung,” Jimin breathes against the king’s lips, body feeling warm with love, “Perhaps Joseon is not the only thing that can rise to its peak tonight.”

“My peony,” Yoongi breathes, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of Jimin’s head lovingly, pressing their foreheads together in a moment of still bliss, “You think you are well enough again?” “I can always use my hands and mouth,” Jimin proposes,

“I just miss being intimate with you.” Against him, Yoongi goes stiff before he leans forward to eagerly capture Jimin’s lips as he pushes him towards the bed. The next morning, Jimin feels a slight bounce in his step as he makes his way to Hoseok’s office

where he’s become used to meeting the two ministers before court each afternoon. “How do you feel about court now that you’ve been observing for nearly two weeks?” Hoseok asks, “Ready to start participating?” Jimin shakes his head immediately,

waving his hands in front of him in denial. “I don’t know if I should yet,” Jimin starts, biting at his bottom lip before he remembers Yoongi’s words last night. The realization slowly settles in that everything he’s worked for the past few months is finally coming to a head

and here he is denying the opportunity. With a hard swallow, Jimin forces himself to face his future head on. “But I will have to one of these days, so I should just get it over with, right?” Both Hoseok and Namjoon smile at Jimin’s resolution, nodding in agreement.

Namjoon places a piece of paper in front of him, Jimin’s cursory glance looking revealing it’s the same proposal that the court had worked around in circles yesterday. There have been an increase in the number of food thefts by poor children of the cheonmin class

now that the harvest season has fully settled in, resulting in an outcry from the upper class to deal with the crime. “This is the topic that we will go over today, perhaps you could shed some light on your opinions during the court session today.”

Jimin nods, reading over the reports from various legislative agencies in Hanyang on the problem and the steps taken to rectify the problems. In addition is the law that is written in the books formally outlining the punishment for offenders and potential solutions presented

by various ministers. The most favored solution presented thus far is to increase the punishment and to lengthening the sentence served by citizens who commit such crimes. Jimin reads through all of the arguments thus far while Hoseok and Namjoon work on their own paperwork,

his mind churning with various propositions and possibilities. As the three work quietly on their own papers, Jimin tries to figure out how to approach this problem in a practical way. When the three finish lunch and head out to the court hall,

Jimin thinks he might have a potential solution in mind. Court is called to session as per usual, with Yoongi entering the hall to deep bows from the rest of the ministers and councilmen. Once the king takes his seat on the throne and calls for all to rise again,

he addresses the court. “Today, the honorable King Consort Park Jimin will begin participating in court session,” he informs to the ministers, “he needs a desk and writing utensils.” Quickly, a small lacquered desk similar to Yoongi or Hoseok and Namjoon’s is brought out

to be placed in front of Jimin by a court servant, the one with the scrawny voice who’d grated on Jimin’s nerves a few months ago. Court is quickly brought underway again for the day. In the beginning, new daily updates are presented to the court for consideration.

There is news on the border of Manchuria that scouts have seen a decrease in activity from the neighboring kingdom and that military officials are keeping a close eye to see if such an act is meant in peace or in preparation for war.

The general consensus amongst the heads on the front lean towards peaceful. Next is the information that a rice harvest in the southern part of the kingdom has been overly successful with a large donation of rice for the palace to use as they see fit.

Once the daily news updates are completed, the ministers turn back to the major issue for the day; the increase in food theft by some of Joseon’s youngest members. “We must ensure that we do not show pity to these children, for if we do,

others may see it as encouragement from the government,” Minister Huang explains, “so for this reason, I suggest we increase the punishment during which children must perform laborious tasks in retribution for thievery.” “We are approaching the winter months though,

where there is little work to do,” the head minister of justice argues, a man with a family name of Ahn, “Perhaps we should create a list of such criminals until they can be made useful during the spring planting months. Farmers have been complaining for a few years

that their growing ability has been hindered by the lack of manpower during the spring each year.” “You expect those who break the law in Joseon to willingly present themselves in months to serve their sentence? I highly doubt it,” Minister Huang throws back,

“I say hand them over to corrections officers who are allowed to discipline them as they see fit immediately, rather than wait and hope they show up again.” While the court continues to bicker amongst one another, Jimin bites at his bottom lip,

waiting for an opportunity to voice his opinion. With each argument going back and forth with rapid speed, it seems like such a time never comes. After perhaps thirty minutes of listening to old men of the upper class continue to spin in circles like an animal chasing its tail,

Jimin clears his throat loudly. The entire room immediately crawls to a standstill, every set of eyes falling upon Jimin. His heart begins to pound as he looks down at the paper before him where he’s taken notes on the key points of each argument and made his own amendments.

Sweat pools on his palms as he wonders if maybe it would have just been better to keep his mouth shut, but Yoongi simply gives Jimin a head nod in permission. “Has anyone addressed why the children have resorted to stealing?” Jimin questions, forcing himself to emit confidence,

refusing to look down at his paper or avert his gaze from the two ministers who have been debating the most heartily. Minister Ahn takes a quick look down at his own paper, shuffling it to the report given to him from the corrections officers in Hanyang,

“It is said that as many as 64% of the children have been classified as orphans, with many reporting that they have younger siblings to feed.” Jimin nods in understanding at the information, “That sounds like desperation to me, rather than a desire to break the law.”

A few of the younger, lower-ranking ministers nod in agreement at the observation. “Has anyone thought about how we can curb the situation the results in children turning to petty thievery to survive, rather than how we can punish those who are caught in the act?”

The room is silent as everyone thinks, but Jimin continues through the notes on his page. “Were we not given a gift of rice from the southern province to do with as we see fit? It could be distributed to the children in need who will become the future of Joseon.” After a moment,

Minister Huang chimes in, “Giving presents to those who break the law is not going to solve a major crime issue,” he says, before hastily tacking on at the end, “your most imperial majesty.” “Of course not,” Jimin agrees,

“But if we were to distribute food to all orphans or poor children in the first place, it would greatly curb the crimes being committed. In addition, we can use the promise of more food to encourage elder children to participate in the spring planting.

We can spread word of such work opportunities while distributing the food during the winter. Those with younger siblings to feed would likely be more willing to work in exchange for food.” The ministers seem to agree with the proposition,

turning their attention to figuring out how to go about distributing the food to the population of orphans. Between the justice ministry and the public works ministry, there seems to be a vague idea put into place for distributing the food.

Workers have to be recruited to run the kitchens and more to actually get the food to the kids, but it’s a step in the right direction. The court decides to revisit the issue again in one month to see if there has been any change in the number of thievery reports.

That evening, Yoongi and Jimin dine in the newly built dining room in the royal estate. The room still smells like fresh timber and new coats of paint, the walls vibrant and beautiful with their new artwork. Besides the brand new materials used,

the layout and feeling of the place is almost an exact replica of the old dining room. Jimin would wager that the new king’s library likely is the same. “I was impressed by your suggestion this afternoon,” Yoongi says as they eat. “Thank you,” Jimin squeaks out,

cheeks flushing a bit red at being reminded of his day’s work. After the court had moved on from the orphans, Jimin had paid significantly less attention to the matter of if the taxation rate being lowered for the southern regions was truly warranted

or if it would be perceived as bribery due to the gift of rice to the palace. “I just felt that increasing punishments on the children wouldn’t result in less food being stolen, but a higher chance that they would try to hide their actions instead.” “Yes, that’s true,”

Yoongi agrees, “I think your suggestion was both kind-hearted and based on solving the root of the problem, rather than just reacting to it.” Jimin nods, proud of himself for standing up for the children of Joseon.

For a moment, the two eat dinner quietly before Yoongi speaks up again. “I have thought a lot about your place in the court,” he says, “You know, Hoseok and Namjoon will take position of left state councilor and right state councilor.” “Yes,” Jimin says,

“They’ve told me they’ve been working hard to fulfill their duties as councilors.” “There is still the position of chief state councilor open,” Yoongi informs, “I would like you to take that role.” Jimin nearly drops his chopsticks,

fumbling awkwardly to make sure they don’t fall and splash hot soup all over himself. “Me!? The second in position only to the king?” Yoongi laughs at Jimin’s mishap, “Of course, are you not already second in the nation only to me?

What would you being chief state councilor change? Plus, I wouldn’t have to be away from you long to have meetings with another chief state councilor every evening then.” Jimin blinks at the proposal, trying to figure out if he really could take on

such a powerful role in all of Joseon. “I am not qualified though,” Jimin breathes out, “I am barely eligible for my role as it is.” Yoongi simply shakes his head in dismissal, “Hardly. You have shown your worth and loyalty to me more than any other member of the court has.

There is more to chief state councilor than simply knowing the laws; being trustworthy to the king is a far greater portion of the job than it may seem like at first glance. Remember, the rest of the court is there to guide everyone to the best path for Joseon.”

Jimin nods slowly in understanding, “I know that as long as I have you, Hoseok, and Namjoon that I will never be alone again.”

chapter tw // - nsfw

- top jimin

The court is informed about the decision the next day, a round of hearty congratulations and applause for each position appointed. Everyone claps politely when Hoseok is announced as the next left state councilor and Namjoon as the right state councilor.

They give hearty congratulations as the lower members of court are elevated to the positions of left and right ministers to replace the vacant positions by Hoseok and Namjoon. The final position to be mentioned is Jimin’s future position.

It almost seems like the entire court is winding down for the evening, councilors and ministers packing up their supplies as though they are waiting only for the evening gong to dismiss them for the day.

“There is one final position to announce for promotion today,” Yoongi informs as all of the councilors and ministers go quiet, clearly unexpecting there to be one more announcement, “the position of chief state councilor.”

The room almost immediately lights up with excitement, everyone chattering to one another about who they could possibly elevate to such a coveted position. In the midst of their excitement, Jimin fails to hear even a single person mention his name.

In the long moments that stretch between Yoongi announcing the promotion and regaining control over the court, fear twists into Jimin’s gut. What will the reaction be from the ministers when they find out that the position had been given to Jimin of all people?

“Order in the court! Are you nothing but animals!?” Finally, a hush covers the crowd, but the ministers and councilors still vie for a glimpse around the room, trying to guess. “The chief state councilor is a position only second to the king of Joseon,”

Yoongi reminds the court who has been without a chief state councilor for over a year at this point, “He is the man to be trusted most by the king and will become a bridge between the lower members of court and myself.”

A hard lump forms in the base of Jimin’s throat as his husband continues to drum up excitement, anxiety riddling Jimin’s body with its claws. “Everyone, please congratulate Park Jimin upon his role within the Joseon government.”

For a brief moment, the court is silent as all eyes immediately turn to Jimin. Then, very suddenly, everyone breaks out into a hearty applause. Their expressions are bright and excited for Jimin to join them officially, without a single hint of disappointment or malice.

Once court is officially dismissed for the evening, a few members of the council come up to him. “Congratulations on your appointment!” one of them says, before another excitedly adds, “You’re going to be great in your new role!”

A third gives him a bright smile as he exclaims, “I was so impressed by your idea yesterday! You’re going to be a great asset for Joseon’s government.”

After a few of them give their well-wishings to the new member of court, they immediately scatter like cherry blossoms in the wind. Jimin feels as Yoongi comes up behind him, wrapping his arms delicately around Jimin’s waist, both affectionate and laying claim to his husband.

“Are you making new friends in the court?” Yoongi teases as the court hall quickly empties with everyone retreating for dinner. “I was,” Jimin grumbles light-heartedly as he takes Yoongi’s hand into his own and heads out of the court hall themselves towards the royal estate

for their own evening meal, “Until someone came over and scared them all away.” “I just wanted to remind everyone that you belong to me,” Yoongi quips as they walk through the government courtyards to the royal estate.

As they pass by ministers and councilors, a few of them give Jimin greetings and congratulations on their way to their own homes in the heart of Hanyang. “Everyone knows that I belong to you,”

Jimin notes as he points to a small, dark spot on the corner of his collarbone from last night, “You mark me up too much at night for them to forget.” Yoongi only looks proud of himself.

There is a small amount of preparation that must occur for the court to accept their new roles in the government. Since there are a number of people moving around, some going from one ministry to the state council,

it is more than just a simple matter of drawing up a few pieces of paper. It takes about a week before the final pieces are put together and everyone gathers in the court hall for the oaths to be taken by each member of the council.

Taking his oath is somewhat similar to the time when Jimin had been coronated months ago. He is aided by a servant who holds the scroll up for him to read aloud to the court, Jimin dressed in fine robes, but not as ornate as festival wear.

“I pledge to give my most honest and true opinions in the spirit of Joseon. I shall do everything within my power to further the nation and her people before all else. As Chief State Councilor, I promise to uphold Joseon’s laws, morals, and her prosperity above all.”

After taking his oath, along with Hoseok, Namjoon, and the other members of the council, a small banquet is held. The feast is open to any member of the court, as well as their family members. At the main table are those who have been granted new positions within the council,

as well as Yoongi. The meal is about to begin when Jimin catches the sight of a bright pink skirt out of the corner of his vision, turning just momentarily to see Yoonji standing in front of him and Yoongi at the head of the table.

“Yoongi-orabeoni, Jimin-orabeoni,” Yoonji beams as she motions to the man next to her. Instantly, Jimin recognizes him as the one who’d complimented him about his idea for the juvenile thievery a week ago, “This is my fiancé, Kim Segwang.”

Both Jimin and Yoongi give Segwang polite bows as they offer him and Yoonji a seat at the main table. For the rest of the evening, Jimin finds himself easily making new friends within the council.

That evening, Jimin dresses himself in his sleeping robes as he runs a comb through his short brown locks. “I think Segwang will be a good husband for Yoonji,” he notes as he checks himself in the mirror to make sure his hair is evenly combed, before he takes the comb

over to the bed and sits cross legged on it. Yoongi takes a seat before Jimin, allowing him to comb out the long blonde locks from its regal topknot all day. “He is a good man,” Yoongi notes, “I’ve met him a few times before. Yoonji has told me many things about him though.”

Jimin runs the comb through the soft hair, teasing out any tangles with delicate fingers, “Have they determined when the wedding will be held? Has the priest given an auspicious date yet?” “They have,” Yoongi informs, “It will be held within a month.”

Jimin’s hands freeze halfway down the king’s back, “In only a month? That’s so soon.” “We married in two weeks,” Yoongi reminds as Jimin continues his motions, “A month for the planning committee must feel like an eternity.”

“I heard about the proposal for an heir,” Jimin says as he lovingly loosens a knot in the king’s hair, “Yoonji told me the plan.” “She is eager to have a child,” Yoongi notes, “Though I told her she is too young to contemplate such ideas.”

“She will be married in only a few weeks,” Jimin murmurs as he gathers up Yoongi’s hair to pull it all behind his back, fingers gently gliding across the back of the king’s neck, “She is a grown woman now.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond, simply letting out a long noise of contemplation. Wordlessly, Jimin twirls the king’s hair up into a comfortable, loose knot for sleeping. “We will adopt her firstborn son,” Yoongi says after a long while,

Jimin sliding the hairpin through the blonde locks, “Have you thought of any names you might like to give him?”

“I thought that royalty consult fortune tellers for their children’s names?” Jimin asks as he takes the comb and hair piece from the day to rest on their now-shared desk before returning to bed. “Yes,” Yoongi agrees, “but that is for the child’s formal name.

We can pick something we like for his personal name.” Jimin chuckles softly to himself as he leans over to kiss his husband, “Let us decide once she is with child.”

The next afternoon is Jimin’s first official appointment as head state councilor, walking to his seat in the court with just a bit of apprehension at first. It only takes a brief glance over the rest of the court though who seem to approve of his position

before his nerves slowly ease away. He reminds himself of Yoongi’s words, that the court is there to help uplift him, rather than weigh him down. The first order of business after the local news announcements are made is one that nobody had really expected.

“I would like to draw everyone’s attention once again to notion number 613,” Yoongi announces as everyone hurriedly digs through their paperwork to find the documentation requested. Jimin had been given a large file which was bursting at the seams with all of the legal paperwork

that the head state councilor has failed to address over the last year. Luckily, Hoseok leans over to help Jimin find it in the mess of papers.

When Jimin reads the title, his eyes go wide. “Proposal for the Royal Quarters for the King and King Consort” “Does anyone have any objections to the proposal before you?” Yoongi asks, the entire room quieted to a hush, “Speak now or the motion will be put to a vote.”

A few coughs and shuffles happen throughout the court room before Yoongi motions for everyone to grab their brushes and ink. “Remember what happened to the last councilor who proposed a concubine,” Yoongi reminds.

Jimin lifts his brush, marking the spot that says he approves the proposition to be fulfilled. The servants around the room collect the paperwork before it is brought to Yoongi. The three other heads of state, Jimin, Hoseok, and Namjoon, watch as the king tallies the votes.

It seems that the vast majority is in favor of the proposition based on the way that the king personally checks every single vote.

“It is official then,” Yoongi declares proudly as he takes his brush and signs his name over the spot meant for the king, “I will share quarters with my husband permanently.”

He then hands over the brush to Jimin to sign his name over the second signature at the bottom, followed by Hoseok and Namjoon. Somehow, he hadn’t quite expected his first official legal signature to allow him to share quarters with Yoongi.

That evening, the servants bustle around them as they officially move everything from Jimin’s chambers to their now-shared chambers. His law books, gorgeous hanbok, and any personal items he’s collected over the past few months are quickly gathered

and placed in an empty dressing room and fitting room. The king typically has vast amounts of rooms in his quarters, but most of them had gone unused since Yoongi’s rise to the throne. Now, after months, the royal chambers are starting to feel full once again.

Well after dark, the quarters are quiet after all of the bustling this evening. Crickets sing in the fields and the sound of a late autumn owl calls out amongst the gardens. Soon, the crickets will stop their songs as the bitterness of winter seeps into the palace.

Yet, Jimin will remain warm and content in his husband’s arms every evening. “Are you not going to tie my hair tonight?” Yoongi asks as Jimin takes the comb and hairpin back over to the desk. Instead, Jimin grabs a small lacquered box from the desk,

bringing it over to the bed. “I think it might get in the way,” Jimin notes as he pulls the top of the box off, revealing the seaweed mixture, “Do you not remember my promise during our honeymoon?”

Yoongi’s eyes flicker to the seaweed before they dart up to lock onto Jimin’s, searching for any sign of dishonesty. When the king finds none from his husband, something blossoms bright in the back of his eyes. “My peony,” he breathes out,

almost scrambling to pull Jimin down onto the bed, careful only to avoid spilling their seaweed everywhere, “I have been ready for you since our wedding.” Jimin can’t help but laugh softly as he leans in to kiss at Yoongi’s lips, the king eagerly vying for more.

His long fingers tangle intimately into Jimin’s hair as he tugs him down onto the bed, pulling Jimin over him. Jimin hovers over his husband, knees and elbows digging into the plush royal bed as he ravishes Yoongi’s mouth with his tongue and teeth.

Their kisses are not gentle, nor coy, rather demanding and taking all that they want from one another. Kissing Yoongi is familiar, even if he knows that he will soon venture into unknown territory.

With Yoongi though, he knows better than to ever be afraid. When they are both panting and out of breath, foreheads shimmering with a soft glisten of sweat, Jimin pulls back to admire his husband beneath him.

“You are so beautiful,” Jimin breathes out as he gently runs his fingers through Yoongi’s long blonde hair, awed by the way that Yoongi looks up at him with such trust and love.

A smile twitches softly at the corner of Yoongi’s mouth, “My Jimin, you ought to see yourself.” A soft dusting of pink crosses Jimin’s cheeks at the compliment, pulling back only to better grab the seaweed mixture. He dips two fingers into the thick liquid,

the consistency wet and slick against his skin. It is not his first time using it himself, but usually he is not preparing to use it on his husband. Without any sort of coaxing, Yoongi spreads his legs enough for Jimin to gain access to his husband’s most intimate areas.

“You remind me of a sunflower now,” Jimin notes as he circles the tips of his fingers around Yoongi’s entrance, “Your hair spread out around you like this, your shining eyes, your soft lips.”

“My peony,” Yoongi smiles as Jimin presses the first finger past the resistance, the king sighing contentedly as Jimin begins to stretch him. “My sunflower,” Jimin quips back, watching as Yoongi’s smile blossoms even further. Slowly, Jimin opens his husband up,

knowing that there is no need to hurry. They have the rest of eternity together, seated side by side in both marriage and government. When Yoongi is fully open, Jimin coats himself with the lube, before taking his position between Yoongi’s legs.

Months ago, Jimin had thought that he would be scared to take on such a position. Yet with Yoongi laying beneath him, eyebrows furrowed together in bliss as his mouth falls open at the stretch, Jimin feels no fear.

All he chases is the burning desire to make Yoongi’s mind turn to nothingness the way that Yoongi has made him feel so many times before. His thrusts are slow and languid at first, watching with fascination at the way his husband’s face contorts with mind-blowing pleasure.

When Yoongi seems to be well adjusted to the stretch of Jimin inside of him, Jimin begins picking up his thrusts. Every thrust seems to make Yoongi fall apart even further, until they’re both chasing their peaks together. He fucks faster and faster,

trying to give Yoongi just that little bit extra, his own pleasure almost falling to the side as he focuses solely on his husband beneath him. Listening to the high-pitched whines and moans coming from Yoongi with each thrust has Jimin on the verge himself.

Knowing that he is making Yoongi feel so good has his own pleasure growing even further. When Yoongi’s cries are thin and strained, just on the very edge, Jimin wraps a hand around his husband, stroking him in time with each one of his thrusts.

Yoongi tightens hard around him as he comes, mewling as his fingers dig into Jimin’s back, fingernails scratching up and down Jimin’s skin. The sudden pressure around Jimin’s dick has himself falling over the edge, spilling into the king as he rides out his own orgasm.

When he finally blinks coherently again after, he can hardly believe the sight beneath him. Yoongi looks peaceful for the first time since the attack on the castle. Jimin fetches a cloth to clean Yoongi up, the king laying motionless on the bed.

“I want to do it again,” Yoongi surmises after he is cleaned up. All Jimin can do is laugh as he settles next to his husband on the bed, pulling him into his arms. “We have the rest of time together,” Jimin reminds,

“We don’t need to rush. For as long as we live, I will be your peony and you will be my sunflower. And together, we will rule Joseon for years to come.”

“Abeoji! Abeomama!” “Prince Haseul!” comes the frantic voice of Jungkook just moments before the door to the kings’ library is thrown open, “Your fathers are busy, come back here!” Jimin looks up from his paperwork,

blinking for what feels like a mere second before a pair of grubby hands splays over his desk. Somehow, they are sticky with an unknown substance. “Haseul-ah!” Jimin greets as Jungkook appears on the other side of the doorway, panting heavily, “What are you doing here, hmm?”

“Abeoji!” Haseul exclaims with a wide smile full of baby teeth, “Miss you!” “I’m so sorry,” Jungkook apologizes, voice thin from how out of breath he is, “You know how quickly his little highness moves. I’ll take him back to play with Wooram some more.”

“It’s fine,” Jimin waves dismissively as he scoots back on his floor cushion and gives his son ample space to crawl right over Jimin’s lap, “I think Taehyung and Hoseok are busy enough with Wooram already, they don’t need to watch two children at the same time.”

Yoongi packs up his papers neatly into a file before he removes them from the desk, rising to place them somewhere high that Haseul can’t reach. Jungkook nods at the instruction from the king consort, slowly catching his breath as Yoongi strides over to his husband and son.

With ease, Yoongi immediately takes the young boy from Jimin’s lap and thrusts him high in the air, “Haseul-ah! How’s my little man today?” Haseul lets out a loud giggle at the way he’s twirled around the room, lifted up as tall as Yoongi can reach.

It’s the kind of play that Jimin worries about what would happen if Haseul got too squirmy or if Yoongi accidentally dropped their son, but so far, there haven’t been any accidents. “Abeomama!” Haseul laughs before Yoongi drops him into a firm, solid embrace,

“Wooram and I played so much games with Ahreum-noona!” “So many games,” Yoongi gently corrects before his eyes go wide in amazement, “That sounds like a lot of fun. What kind of games did you play?”

Haseul explains all of the many games that he played with Seokjin and Namjoon’s daughter, telling them how Ahreum taught both boys to spin a top properly today. The entire time, Yoongi nods along, as interested in Haseul’s day of playing as he would be in matters of the state.

“I can take him to go and play alone if you would like to continue your meeting,” Jungkook mentions softly to Jimin. “Nonsense,” Yoongi interjects as he cradles Haseul against his chest, “Is the dining hall ready for our dinner?”

“I think so, I saw Yoonji and Segwang heading that way,” Jungkook informs as Jimin rises from his seat and tucks his own paperwork away, purposefully avoiding the parts of the paper that are now sticky, “I will go tell them of your arrival.”

With a head nod, Jungkook takes off once again towards the dining hall. “We can continue our meeting after Jungkook takes Haseul for the evening,” Jimin proposes as Yoongi carries Haseul and the family exits the library. Instead, Yoongi gives Jimin a small frown

as he absentmindedly scratches along the back of the boy’s hairline. “Jimin-ah, you know I have decided to prioritize family time after dinner,” he reminds, “I think it’d be good to go over Haseul’s studies for the day with him.

He learns best when we both reinforce his teachings in the evening, after all.” Jimin nods as they walk through the courtyard towards the dining hall. “Haseul-ah, what shapes did you learn today?” The young boy makes a circle with his hands as Jimin nods in fascination,

“Oo, a circle?” “And square!” Haseul adds as he tries to make his hands form a square shape, but it ends up looking more like a rectangle. Jimin creates a square with his fingers to show Haseul the proper way to form the shape.

“My boy is learning quickly,” Yoongi boasts as if Jimin doesn’t feel just as proud, “You should tell Eomma about all of the shapes you learned today. She will be at dinner tonight too.” “Eomma!” Haseul beams at the mention of Yoonji, wiggling wildly in Yoongi’s grip,

“Segwang-Appa too?” “Yes,” Yoongi confirms, “Segwang-Appa will be there too, along with your baby brother.” “Haram!” Haseul squirms before Yoongi tightens his grip on the boy to keep him from falling. The three make their way up the short steps to the dining hall.

Jungkook announces the royal family’s arrival before the door is opened. On the other side of the wall sits both Yoonji and Segwang, a small bundle wrapped up in Segwang’s arms. Somehow, Haseul manages to worm his way out of Yoongi’s grasp before running full speed

over to his birth parents. Now Jimin understands how Jungkook managed to lose track of the young boy earlier. From the doorway, Jimin and Yoongi watch as the small family crowds around the infant, everyone cooing at the way he yawns.

“Do you think we’re making the right decision?” Jimin asks cautiously from the doorway as Haseul places his sticky hands on Segwang’s leg to get a better view of Haram, “They won’t be confused when they grow up by having four parents?”

Yoongi, however, shakes his head resolutely, “Haseul is smart and Haram will be as well.” Jimin can’t argue with that; Haseul was already far beyond the expectations of his foundational learning teacher.

“They will be lucky to have four parents who love them deeply and would do anything for them.” The family eats dinner together in the dining hall, Yoongi and Jimin feeding Haseul little bits of each dish to try and expand the boy’s palate.

After dinner, Yoongi and Jimin bid Yoonji and Segwang a nice evening as they take Haseul out towards the gardens for an evening stroll. With one pudgy hand in both of his fathers’ hands, Haseul toddles along with gravel crunching beneath his feet.

“What does the moon look like, Haseul-ah?” Yoongi asks as he points to the bright moon beginning to flood down on the palace grounds, “A square or a circle?” “Circle!” Haseul exclaims as Yoongi hurriedly sweeps him up into his arms in celebration of the correct answer.

“Abeomama!” he laughs as Yoongi starts peppering kisses all over his cheeks. “Your imperial majesties!” someone calls out as the family walks past the government building towards the pond in the western garden where they’d defended their country years ago, “King Min! King Park!”

“What is wrong?” Jimin asks as a minister jogs up to them, a small trail of dust kicking up behind them. Yet Yoongi pays the man no mind as he crosses over the foot bridge towards the pavilion. This is one of Haseul’s favorite places to play with the fish that swim

around in the pond, coming up to beg for scraps from the young prince. “The council needs King Min to review this document as quickly as possible,” the minister informs as he holds out a thick scroll, “They want to work on the proclamation tomorrow and-”

“King Min is busy tonight,” Jimin cuts off, “The court is well aware that King Min does not take work after the evening meal.” The minister looks down at the scroll he’s holding out, waiting for Jimin to take it without a single move from the king consort.

“But the court said it was urgent...” Jimin shakes his head as the minister rescinds the scroll, “Is a foreign army invading our borders?” The minister gives a head shake. “Is the palace on fire?” Another head shake.

“Then whatever urgent matter the court has conjured up can wait until tomorrow. They have been informed that the king prioritizes family in the evening. How they deal with that matter is up to them.”

The minister looks forlorn as he struggles with the information, “Can the king do that?” Jimin takes a deep breath in as he tries to reign in his annoyance at the minister’s question. It’s not an unheard of for a king to work himself ragged,

taking late night assignments and waking before anyone else in the palace to get all of his work done for the day. For a king to refuse work in order to dote on his children and spouse is almost an impossibility. “Please tell me which council member

is so insistent on King Min completing this work tonight,” Jimin proposes with a purposefully thoughtful expression, “I will make sure to pass on their message directly to the king that they need their paperwork looked at tonight, despite his highness’s wishes.”

The thinly veiled threat seems to be enough to scare the minister into finally taking his scroll back and stuttering a hasty, “I understand your most imperial majesty, I will remind the councilor of the king’s wishes.” Jimin crosses the foot bridge to the pyeongsang where

Yoongi is relaxing as he watches Haseul play with the fish on the edge of the water. Haseul lets out a high-pitched giggle every time one of the fish nibbles at his little fingers in search of a snack. “What did the minister want?” Yoongi asks as the two watch the prince playing.

“He wanted you to go over some documents from the court,” Jimin explains as he takes a seat next to the king, “I told him that you are off duty for the rest of the night. He was quite confused.”

“Kings usually don’t dedicate themselves to their families,” Yoongi says dismissively, “I want to be different. Haseul deserves it. Haram will too.” A soft smile twitches at the corner of Yoongi’s mouth as he leans in to brush his lips against Jimin’s, “You deserve it too.”

elle

elle

@yoonmin_cheri

i write a lot of (dirty) fan fiction about yoonmin she/her. yoongi's age 슈짐 fan account

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