Chapter Text
Gold.
It is the color of wealth, luxury, and superiority. It contains the ability to carry mere mortals to the top of the chain, and allows them to be crowned as kings or favored by gods.
Gold is a powerful substance. In the hands of the wrong people, its power can be devastating. In the hands of just the right person, it could bring down civilization as a whole, ripping out the rug from beneath humanity’s feet and snatching the authority of the immortals from their own palms.
But gold has no true value in and of itself. It is just a shiny rock- pleasant to look at, maybe, but just a rock nonetheless. What gives it power is its rarity and the people that seek to hoard it. Without those who wish to exploit it, gold has no value. It has no power.
In Illenheia, gold is a gift that is not taken for granted. It is not currency like how it is in the other kingdoms. In fact, it exists in abundance, but is merely adorned by the citizens every year in celebration of the sun.
Or, more specifically, the sun’s son .
Each dawn of February 18th, the people of Illenheia don golden chains and ornamentation and jewelry of the finest. They gather in the main plaza, just outside of the palace, and sing and dance along with their prince. They hang up golden lights and fling handfuls of golden dust at one another, all with smiles on their faces and cheer in their eyes. The Ilison Festival sees more gold in one day than the wealthiest kingdoms in the world see in decades, but it has no value other than to be a token of worship. For the Illenheians, gold is a mere reminder of their benefactor, Helios, and all that he has done for their little kingdom.
But not every crown sees it that way.
The rulers of the other kingdoms look down on Illenheia with envy, jealous that their own gods don’t bathe them in riches and nourish their crops year-round. To them, Illenheia is entitled and weak- unable to survive on its own if not for Helios’ care. Nevertheless, the opposing lands don’t dare to raise their armies to Illenheia, for fear of their crown prince: Jung Hoseok.
None would even consider laying a finger to the sun titan’s child.
☀ ☀ ☀
It’s February 18th- the twenty-second that Hoseok has lived through. His birthday.
He had woken before the rest of the kingdom had even thought to open their eyes, rising from his covers to greet the lightening darkness of pre-dawn.
Hoseok had dreamt of his father wishing him a happy twenty-second birthday, and while it had made him glow with pride in his dream, he couldn’t push away the weight on his chest upon waking up. He had never actually spoken with his father before, or even met him.
But that morning, as Hoseok had watched the black sky fade and welcome the pastel hues of orange and pink, he could feel his father’s words heavier than he would if the words had been spoken aloud.
“Happy birthday, my son.”
“Happy birthday, Hobi!!” Jimin bursts into the changing room without bothering to knock, a beaming, almost crooked smile on his lips. He bounds over to a half-dressed Hoseok and wraps the older into a crushingly affectionate hug. “You’re getting so old,” he teases when he pulls away.
Hoseok laughs at the jest, even though Jimin says it every year like some kind of weird tradition. “Thanks, Jimin. I appreciate it.”
The younger continues smiling his signature eye smile as he looks Hoseok up and down. “You’re only half dressed but I can tell that this outfit is going to be the best one yet. You’ll have the entire city on the floor, begging for you to bless them and their cows.”
“Too bad he can’t actually do that,” Seokjin answers for Hoseok, walking into the room with the rest of the prince’s jewelry and clothing. The eldest’s rose gold hair sways with his powerful walk as he approaches the two.
Jimin scoffs playfully. “Who knows? What if he has some latent godly powers that are just waiting to awaken until he’s deemed worthy?”
“I’m sure our prince is already worthy enough, considering all that he’s done. For us and our people.” Seokjin sets the pile of golden-threaded clothing on a nearby table, separating the jewelry. “Now, shoo, nymph. I have to finish dressing him so he can go do his magic dance.”
Jimin sticks out his tongue and stalks over to a chair to wait and be out of the way.
“It’s not a ‘magic dance’,” Hoseok says, a small grin on his lips. “It’s just some elegant, coordinated movements that just so happen to entice people.”
Seokjin hums and picks up a sheer piece of cloth that glimmers when the light hits it. “More like entrances them.”
“I agree with Jin,” Jimin speaks up from the corner. “It even makes me feel all warm and fuzzy watching, and I made the dance.”
Hoseok huffs, a mocking smile dripping into his words as he says, “Don’t flatter yourself. We made it together .”
Jimin just shrugs. “Touché.”
“Turn towards me, Your Highness,” Seokjin instructs, stealing Hoseok’s attention back. When the younger does as told, he begins to clasp the shiny cloth to Hoseok’s body by golden bracelets. Then, he fastens a wider clasp around the prince’s neck.
“You don’t have to call me that, you know. We’ve been over this,” Hoseok says to his older friend. It even made him uncomfortable for civilians to address him as royalty, so a friend calling him anything other than his name just sounded…wrong.
“I know,” Seokjin answered, not meeting his eyes, “but it feels weird. Even if you’re my friend.”
Hoseok and Seokjin had only been close for around two years now, and it was the first time that the older had been assigned to creating the prince’s traditional robes. Yet, the duration of their friendship meant nothing to Hoseok when it came to his name. He wanted to be treated like a person, not a prince. Especially with his closest friends.
“I understand,” he relented. He wouldn’t force Seokjin into using his real name if he didn’t want to. “But if you ever change your mind, you can call me whatever you want.”
The older grinned wickedly, and Hoseok knew he had made a mistake. “ Anything? ”
“Okay, no- not anyth-“ The prince tried to take back what he had said, but it was too late.
“Golden child?”
“No.”
“Sun baby?”
“Definitely not.”
“Prince of the Horses?”
“Don’t make fun of my horses!”
“What about sunflower? That’s just adorable.”
“No way! Just call me Your Highness or Hoseok. That’s it.”
Seokjin laughs, bubbly and loud. “You got it, sun baby.”
Hoseok crinkles his nose. “You can’t call me by my real name but you can call me ‘ sun baby’ ?”
“That’s right!” Seokjin boops the younger’s nose teasingly.
Hoseok wants to keep arguing against the usage of the new nickname, but he just ends up chuckling instead, letting it go. Seokjin’s antics were nothing new, and Hoseok loves the older for his jokes and amicable personality. The descendant of Aphrodite had snuggled in close to his heart over these past two years.
“Okay,” Seokjin claps his hands together excitedly. “Time for your makeup! Sit down.”
Hoseok does as instructed, taking a seat in the chair next to Jimin and in front of the vanity. The mirror shines the reflection of his face with ease, well-lit by the numerous candles around the room.
“Are you going to use gold again?” Jimin asks from the side, turning his seat to be able to look at Seokjin through the mirror.
“Obviously,” the eldest sneers, though it isn’t hostile. “What else would I use for Ilison? Green?”
“Nah, that wouldn’t match the sun. Or Hoseok’s hair.”
Seokjin rolls his eyes, already knowing that. They use gold every year. Gold robes, gold eyeshadow, and gold jewelry. Gold everything.
With Jimin already on Hoseok’s left, Seokjin moves to the prince’s right. He snaps open a small container of compacted golden dust and dips a small brush into it, withdrawing fine, glittering powder. “Close your eyes,” he requests as he leans down to apply it to Hoseok’s eyelids.
Applying makeup is a tricky skill to master, but Hoseok trusts Seokjin to do it right. The prince loves how he looks every year with the gold on his eyelids and kohl in his lash lines.
Seokjin’s mother was a demigod- daughter of the goddess of love and beauty and a human man. But even though Seokjin only has a quarter of godly blood, his looks and his expertise in beauty make it obvious that he isn’t fully human.
When Hoseok opens his eyes, he almost gapes at how stunning he looks. Bright gold powder adorns his eyes and accentuates his features, giving a highlight to his cheekbones, nose, and chin. Even the cupids bow of his upper lip has a streak of gold.
His lashes look bolder due to the kohl, and even though he has seen himself with makeup on numerous times before, he’s still shocked to see himself.
“Okay, Hoseok. We get it. You’re beautiful,” Jimin says from beside him, his arms crossed and mouth set in a teasing smile.
Seokjin nods in agreement, his eyes softening at he stares at Hoseok through the mirror. “Yeah. Beautiful.”
Hoseok stares back at him, thinking he’s seeing something new in the older’s eyes, but before Hoseok could say something, Seokjin ushers him up from his seat. “We’re running out of time. Let me put your jewelry on.”
Long necklaces are then placed around his neck, reaching all the way down to his abdomen. They shine when he turns to allow Seokjin to clasp the ends together.
“How much longer do we have?” Hoseok asks to either of his friends. It’s not the first time he’s done the ceremonial dance, and likely not the last, but he can never help but get nervous anyway. Punctuality and a façade of confidence are key.
He watches Jimin stick his head out a window to gage the height of the sun. When the young man leans back inside, Seokjin is adding a small ear cuff to the helix of Hoseok’s right ear.
“You probably have about six minutes,” Jimin answers.
Hoseok will start his dance just when the morning sun begins to peek over the roof of the temple, where his small changing room lies. The temple is a place of worship for the people of Illenheia- a place where they can feel safe and give thanks to Hoseok’s father, the sun god.
Outside of the Sun Temple sits a runway of sorts, raised so that the entirety of the Ilison crowd may watch the prince’s dance. He changes up the dance little by little each year (with Jimin’s help) to keep the annual tradition from going stale or tedious. The people love it.
Seokjin swiftly braids a few twines of golden thread into Hoseok’s hair, fingers nimble and practiced as if he’d done it hundreds of times before. When he finishes, he gently turns the prince to face the mirror once again. “What do you think?”
The older’s voice sounded nervous, but when Hoseok’s eyes set on his reflection, he can’t think of any reason for Seokjin to be self-conscious about his work. It may have been his friend’s first time designing the traditional outfit and makeup and jewelry to go along with it, but, truly, Hoseok looks like a god.
His honey blonde hair is lightly curled with an occasional thin braid intertwined with gold. His tanned skin holds a golden glow even more so than usual, magnified by golden highlight on his face and collar bones. The eyeshadow and kohl on his eyes give him a bolder appearance, and he can’t help but smile.
Next, he takes in the sight of his outfit. The shiny cloth that Seokjin had clasped on is actually a type of cloak; it drapes from the clasp around his neck in two pieces, one spreading to his left wrist and the other to his right. He raises his arms a bit and turns to the side so he can view the back of it. The cloak is sheer and leaves his arms and shoulders bare, and it almost gives him an appearance of having folded wings.
How Seokjin had found- or made - such a stunning of piece of clothing, Hoseok doesn’t know.
The cloak matches with the sheer, golden skirt that glides out from just below his hips. The skirt leaves his front open and drapes behind him all the way to the floor. Below it sits a simple pair of golden shorts.
His chest and thighs are bare and out for the entirety of Illenheia to see, and Hoseok suddenly flushes. He’d never worn an outfit this revealing.
Jimin makes an unidentifiable noise from the side, as if he, too, had just realized how much skin the prince will be showing off.
Seokjin cuts in, “It’s bold, I know. But I just began browsing fabrics at the market and couldn’t help but buy the sheer! It goes with your skin too well, and any other material would take away from its effect.”
Hoseok nods. He understands, he does, but it’s just…different. It’s beautiful. More beautiful than anything he’d ever seen.
“You’re an adult now, and I just thought maybe you’d be more comfortable with something like this? If you don’t want to wear it or you want to cover up some more, I can-” Seokjin runs on, voice growing increasingly anxious for fear that Hoseok wouldn’t like his work.
The prince jumps out of his stupor and turns to his older friend, cutting him off, “No, no . Seokjin,” he grins as wide as he can, “I love it. Truly. Thank you.”
Seokjin’s breath shudders as he breathes out in relief. “Oh. Okay.” He smiles back, plush lips spreading as his teeth show. “Good.”
Hoseok turns back to the vanity, still grinning. It’s true- the sheer cloak and skirt bring out the golden sheen of his bare skin. Other than the slim shorts, the only things to cover his skin are the long necklaces gracing the length of his torso.
Even his feet are bare, but that’s his decision. It’s easier to dance that way.
“I know we do this every year, Hoseok,” Jimin says, “but I can feel that this will be different. The outfit. You . I just know that you’ll make them all fall in love with you all over again.” The prince’s friend speaks with warm eyes and a soft smile.
“You say that as if you’re not one of them.” Hoseok grins and raises his eyebrows, a tease on his lips. “What? I’m too good for you to fall in love with?”
“Ew,” Jimin grimaces. “I can’t fall in love with my childhood best friend. That must be against some kind of friend code.”
“Friend code?”
“Yeah, like rules all friends must follow even though they’ve never been spoken aloud,” Jimin explains, brushing his dark fringe away from his eyes.
“Sounds made up,” Seokjin says, unamused.
“Everything is made up if you think about it,” Jimin shoots back.
Hoseok throws his hands up. “Okay, okay. It’s not time to get deep, it’s time for me to go do my magic dance.”
“I thought you said it’s not a magic dance!” Seokjin whines as Hoseok brushes past him.
Hoseok laughs. As he nears the door, he can begin to hear the crowd outside waiting for him. “It’s not. But it’ll surely put a spell on you.” He winks back at Seokjin, ever the flirt, and pulls open the door that leads to the main body of the temple.
Before he can leave the room, though, Seokjin yells, “Wait!”
Hoseok pauses and turns around. “What?”
Seokjin smiles. His eyes are warm and fond. “Happy birthday.”
Hoseok’s heart glows, and he smiles back. “Thank you.”
“Good luck, sun baby!” Jimin throws in as Hoseok steps out of the room, and the prince has to restrain himself from turning around and giving the younger a nasty remark.
Once the changing room door shuts behind him, he can hear the cheering in full blast. Hoseok knows that Jimin and Seokjin would be leaving out the other door to join the crowd and watch his dance, so he waits a few more seconds to give them time before he walks into the middle of the temple.
The tall building has a maze of rooms inside of it, but its main body is completely open. Its entrance stands tall and wide, supported by huge Doric columns. As Hoseok looks out between them, he can see the sea of Illenheian citizens. There are thousands of them out today to see him.
He peers behind him at a high risen window that faces east, gaging how high the sun has risen, and determines that it’s time. Turning back toward the entrance, he takes a deep, deep breath.
No music would be playing, but the cheers of his people would ring through his ears like a piano never could. He glances one last time down at his outfit, pulling confidence from it, and begins to walk toward the open entrance.
When the citizens see his figure emerge, they scream and cheer and reach their arms up toward him, beckoning and welcoming.
He smiles wide at the sight of his people, shining brighter than the sun behind him.
☀ ☀ ☀
Min Yoongi doesn’t come from a sheltered life.
He wasn’t washed in riches and coddled with love, but stomped down until he couldn’t breathe. Until he wasn’t a person anymore.
Illenheia makes him sick.
They boast generosity and charity, but hoard gold from other kingdoms. Their summers are year-round and their crops never fail to thrive, but the Illenheians refuse to help the starving in other lands. And worst of all, they allow a person of godly blood to lead them.
They chose him to lead them.
Yoongi couldn’t imagine what kind of man had them so tightly wrapped around his finger.
Some rumors say that the Illenheian prince is a brutal warrior that burns down his enemies with his god-given gift. Others claim that he is nothing but a weak figurehead, powerless and frail and made of lies spun from gold.
Yoongi doesn’t know which to believe, so he keeps his mind open. Rumors never turn out to be true, anyway.
Open-mindedness, however, did nothing to prepare Yoongi for the sight of the Jung Hoseok.
He had pushed as far as he possibly could through the thick crowd of Illenheians to get a view of their prince, and stopped breathing when he saw.
Helios’ son turns and curls and spirals akin to the sun’s corona. His skin glows with golden light, illuminated by the sun rising over the temple. The necklaces on his chest jingle and clatter and his feet dance strong and sure.
The white of his teeth as he smiles clashes with the honey-gold of his skin and hair, and all Yoongi can do is stare.
The rumors sink and dissolve like dust in the wind.
Jung Hoseok isn’t brutal, nor is he weak.
He is graceful and confident and beautiful .
Yoongi stares in awe for the entirety of the prince’s dance, unsure if his heart is still beating or not. He stands still, wondering how he’s supposed to kill such a bright person.
Hoseok’s beaming smile and peacefully closed eyes serenade Yoongi’s will into surrender. Then and there, Yoongi knows he won’t be able to do it.
The dance approaches its end and Yoongi still can’t bring his body to move. He can’t retreat out of the crowd, being pushed hard from the eager citizens behind, and he can’t move forward without shoving a young girl in front of him. He can’t even bring himself to shut his mouth that had fallen open in wonder and awe.
Suddenly, and quite painfully, a woman standing next to Yoongi elbows him as if he’s doing something wrong. He finds the muscles in his neck and whips around to the lady, eyes narrowed and questioning.
The Illenheian’s garb is similar to that of everyone else’s: made head to toe of golden fabric, and eyes lined with gold powder. Her dark skin stands out beautifully from the bright pigmentation of her makeup, but all Yoongi can focus on is the handful of gold dust that she is handing him.
He eyes her suspiciously. What the hell am I supposed to do with this? he thinks.
It’s too loud to hear over the crowd, but Yoongi understands the words that she mouths at him: Throw it.
Just before he can question why and to where he’s supposed to throw the odd dust, the entire audience of Illenheians chuck their own handfuls toward the stage.
His eyes shoot back toward the prince, and for the second time during the performance, Yoongi loses all sense of self and stares in awe.
The golden powder, thrown by hundreds- or maybe thousands- of people, is hit by the now fully visible sun. It catches light, like millions of microscopic candles, and illuminates the prince.
Hoseok is still. His arms are raised in the air and his eyes remain closed.
His smile has calmed into embers rather than a brilliant flame, content and breathing hard as the sparkling dust settles around him and on his skin.
It’s silent while the prince catches his breath. The sun is luminous where it sits above the temple in its full glory, and Yoongi wonders if it’s his imagination that makes it seem brighter than usual.
What is more stunning, though, is the prince when he opens eyes.
Jung Hoseok peers through his eyelids at his people and grins widely as he lowers his arms. The crowd goes wild.
Maybe it’s the fact that Yoongi is the only one not cheering and jumping and reaching out toward the prince, or maybe it’s because he isn’t dressed in gold and stands out. Either way, Hoseok’s eyes land straight on Yoongi.
The gold dust falls through Yoongi’s fingers to the floor.
Hoseok smiles at him. Really smiles. His previous grin widens impossibly further, pearly teeth and subtle dimples a gift to Yoongi’s eyes.
And all Yoongi can do is gape and stare back at him.
In that moment, he knows he’s doomed.
☀ ☀ ☀
Escaping the crowd proved to be much more difficult than Yoongi expected. The Illenheians are surging forward, trying to get as close to the prince as possible or get the man to merely acknowledge them. They are like starved animals flocking to a fresh kill, or a sea of fans swarming to their favorite singer.
As Yoongi tries to push his way out as the wave insists on pulling him back, he gives up on being nice and starts shoving his way between them.
He can’t afford to be nice and allow himself to be sucked in by the crowd- he has to get away before Hoseok realizes that he’s suspicious.
Because the more he looks around, the more he realizes that he’s the only foreigner. He stands out like a black sheep in a herd of golden fleeces.
Yoongi doesn’t know what to do. All he knows is that Hoseok saw him and that, even though he was momentarily mesmerized by the beautiful man, Yoongi needs to put as much distance as he can between the two.
Hoseok may be the literal incarnate of the sun, but Yoongi wasn’t going to wait around to find out what the prince would do to his assassin.
He has to find Taehyung and Jungkook.
At last, he breaks free of the ravenous crowd, but has to physically restrain himself from making a run for it. Asendai allowed him to take this job, and he has to do it one way or another. He can’t let himself be found out so early on.
Hoseok may not have even suspected him, but Yoongi isn’t going to take any chances.
For now, all Yoongi has to focus on is reconvening with his comrades.
Taehyung, Jungkook, and Yoongi have already been in Illenheia for a number of days now, preparing for their infiltration. Yoongi would be the only one not taking a place amongst the prince in his palace, and instead would be disguised as a commoner until the right time came for him to bring a blade to Hoseok’s throat. Taehyung and Jungkook will be the ones to create that opening.
All of this is, of course, assuming Yoongi doesn’t fuck it up by been seen by Hoseok out of disguise at Ilison.
Asendai, their leader, had bought the trio a small cottage on some farm land just outside of the city. It’s their safe place and stronghold for in case anything goes wrong, and where Taehyung and Jungkook are waiting for Yoongi at this moment.
He walks fast, but without the urgency currently coursing through his veins. Illenheia’s downtown is large, and Yoongi is a stranger to the area. Hopefully he can find his way out before anyone questions him.
What was he thinking? Coming to Ilison without dressing like the citizens! He stands out more than he had originally anticipated, and he might be putting their operation at risk because of it.
The heels of Yoongi’s shoes clap against the stone pavement in his hurry. He passes by tan limestone buildings, clotheslines hung from high windows, and empty market stalls.
Gold dust litters the ground of the alley he’s walking through, but he’s alone. All of the people are in the plaza with their prince.
Or so he thought.
Yoongi comes to an abrupt halt and instinctively reaches for the handle of his sword when a figure suddenly steps out in front of him from the mouth of the alleyway.
The narrow hall blocks out the majority of the sun, but the newcomer’s voice makes it obvious who it is. The lively, bright voice can only belong to the brightest man in the kingdom.
“Hey now, no need to pull your sword on me,” Prince Hoseok announces with a smile.
Yoongi’s muscles don’t ease up, but his eyes adjust enough to see the prince’s face just a couple of feet in front of him. He instantly puts up a wall and doesn’t focus on the glitter on the other’s bare chest.
“P-Prince Hoseok…” Yoongi stammers, then corrects, “Er, uh, Your Highness?”
Hoseok hums, and Yoongi thinks he imagines the smile retracting subtly.
“What are you doing here, Your Highness?” Yoongi asks, finally evening out his voice after being caught off guard.
“I followed you,” the prince says simply.
Yoongi’s hand remains on the butt of his sword. “Why?”
Hoseok answers his question with a question. “Who are you?”
Tough question , Yoongi thinks. He’s suspicious.
When Yoongi doesn’t answer right away, Hoseok continues, “I saw you in the crowd after my dance. It’s not often we have visitors here.” His eyes would seem calm and friendly to anyone else, but Yoongi can see the dangerous lick of curiosity and suspicion lying beneath.
“How’d you know I’m a visitor?”
Hoseok’s grin widens for a moment, and he takes a small step closer to Yoongi. “I know the faces of all of my people. I’m only human, so I don’t know all of their names, but I know a stranger when I see one.”
Yoongi’s reflexes scream at him to step away, but he holds his ground. “You’re not human.”
Something that looks like hurt flashes behind Hoseok’s eyes, but his grin remains as if it’s permanently affixed to his face. “Are you a warrior?” He deflects Yoongi’s statement and gestures to his sword.
“No,” he answers. “I’m just a traveler. Need protection sometimes.”
Hoseok tilts his head to the side, and the movement jingles the necklaces around his neck. “What brings you to Illenheia, then?”
Yoongi had thought of a scenario before coming to this country that he would use should he ever run into the prince or other royalty in a situation such as this. All he has to do is form it into words. “I’m actually…running away from something.”
The smile on Hoseok’s face visibly drops this time. “From what?”
“Where I come from, it’s…not safe.” Make them pity you and their suspicion will falter. “My brother and I were hoping to pass through Illenheia in our search for safety but I got distracted by your performance and I lost him.” Lying was always one of Yoongi’s key talents. He keeps his voice even, maintains eye contact, and holds his breath steady. Normal. Completely normal. Not suspicious at all.
Hoseok looks him up and down, eyes open and curious and yet somehow so, so very guarded. “Oh, I see. So that’s why you were in such a rush to leave after my dance.”
Yoongi nods.
“Are you worried for him? I can help you search for your brother, if you wish. I’m sure I know these streets far better than you do,” the prince offers. The smile returns to his face, but this time it’s less fabricated and more…tender and wanting to help.
Warning bells go off in Yoongi’s head and his hands shoot up. Abort, abort, abort . “N-No, it’s okay, really. I couldn’t ask you to help me, Your Highness.”
The prince is adamant, though. “It’s no bother. I’d be more than happy to help you,” he insists, eyes soft and genuine.
Reluctance rises back to Yoongi’s chest, but gets caught in his throat. He needs to dissuade Hoseok and escape before he can be found out, but something about the way the prince’s guard fell pushes the words back down.
Maybe it would be more suspicious, anyway, if Yoongi were to decline the prince’s assistance.
But he doesn’t have an actual lost brother. What is he supposed to do?
Since Hoseok seems like he won’t be told otherwise, Yoongi decides to entertain the prince.
“Okay,” he relents. His hand falls from his sword and he looks at Hoseok with expertly-fabricated gratitude. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
At Yoongi’s assent, Hoseok almost looks surprised. Before Yoongi can wonder why, though, the prince’s lips split into a stunning grin. “Call me Hoseok.”
Yoongi almost chokes.
Hoseok takes notice. “You’re not from my land, so I’m not your prince. There’s no need for such formality.” He laughs nervously and rubs at the side of his neck, as if worried Yoongi wouldn’t want to use his name.
And Yoongi does hesitate, but if Hoseok is telling him to not say ‘Your Highness’, he should listen, right? “Okay…” He grins for what he thinks is the first time doing so in front of the prince. “Hoseok.”
Hoseok beams like the sun. His eyes scrunch up from smiling so large, and a bit of golden dust falls from his hair and twinkles toward the ground.
That’s when Yoongi becomes very aware of who he’s standing in front of.
Hoseok isn’t just a prince, but a demigod. He’s the best dancer Yoongi had ever seen and the most beautiful person he’s ever lain eyes on.
And Yoongi was assigned to kill him.
He won’t do it now, obviously. They are in the middle of the prince’s kingdom, with too many people close enough to stumble upon a body and pin it on Yoongi.
He’ll just wait until their actual plan takes start and be patient.
Yet, when Hoseok walks out of the mouth of the alley, the sun embraces him once again. The dust his people had thrown at him still clings to his body, and he gleams like a person touched by Midas, like he himself is made of gold. He turns back to Yoongi, waiting for him and still smiling, and Yoongi’s heart wavers.
Once again, he knows he won’t be able to kill the prince.
☀ ☀ ☀
Hoseok isn’t usually one to pry, but something about this foreigner sparks his curiosity more than anything ever had.
The dark-haired stranger, however, is relentlessly elusive.
“Where are you from?” Hoseok asks as they walk together.
“Far away.”
“How old is your brother?”
“Young.”
“Why is your home not safe for you?”
“Family issues.”
Each and every answer is curt and vague, but Hoseok doesn’t let it prickle him.
“Okay, then. What’s your name?”
The stranger, who is just shorter than Hoseok, gives a wry smile. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“You don’t talk much,” Hoseok says back with a light chuckle. When the other doesn’t react to his jest, Hoseok clears his throat awkwardly. “I just want to be of help to you while you’re in my country.”
The foreigner snorts. “That’s very nice of you.”
Hoseok can almost see the sarcasm in addition to hearing it. His heart droops.
They walk in silence for a short while longer, Hoseok having decided to remain quiet as they search.
Changes of heart can happen within short periods of time, though, he learns when the other suddenly says, “Min Yoongi.”
Hoseok’s cheer fills back up in his chest, and he smiles widely. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Min Yoongi.” He gives a formal bow with his arm to his chest jokingly.
That earns him a small smile. It’s a win.
“But seriously,” he begins, “how old is your brother? What does he look like? I feel like that’s very vital information I should know if I’m helping you look for him.”
Yoongi nods in agreement, and it’s like the weight from before has stopped suppressing his words. “He’s about yea tall.” He gestures a height taller than the both of them.
Hoseok’s eyes widen. “I thought you said he’s young?”
“Younger than us. He’s in his early twenties. I can never remember his exact age. It keeps changing.” Yoongi’s face is stoic and he looks ahead.
Hoseok hums, thinking it’s weird to not know your own sibling’s age.
After a moment of silence, Yoongi breathes out and laughs. “It was a joke, Hoseok.”
“Oh.” Red rushes to the prince’s ears in embarrassment. Interesting sense of humor , he notes.
The two search for about an hour. They don’t talk much, and even though Hoseok tries to get to know the other, Yoongi seems closed off and not wanting to share. Hoseok respects that, but it’s hard for him. He loves talking.
Helping out Yoongi was also an excuse to avoid his mother and the prying eyes of the citizens, but Hoseok wouldn’t bring that up.
The sun is just beginning to start its descent when Yoongi pauses in his steps.
Hoseok turns back to him, also stopping. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone’s here,” Yoongi states, eyes narrowed.
They had walked to the outer edge of town, but it wasn’t uncommon for people to mill about in this area. Lots of homes and even some markets were located here.
“Lots of people live here. It’s probably just a citizen,” Hoseok assures.
Yoongi is on edge, though, and it puts Hoseok’s heart in an uneven rhythm.
After a several long moments of Yoongi remaining frozen with his hand on the hilt of his sword, he finally sighs and relaxes. “Nevermind. Sorry.”
Hoseok nods. “It’s alright. Shall we continue?”
Yoongi grins apologetically. “Yeah.”
The moment Hoseok turns around to continue walking, a figure quite literally jumps from the roof of a building and lands in front of the prince, startling him out of his skin.
Hoseok yells out in surprise and jolts backwards. He hears Yoongi draw his sword and, without hesitation, blocks a strike that was meant for Hoseok’s neck.
By the way Yoongi hacks and slashes, Hoseok can tell that he’s skilled- that he’s no stranger to sword-fighting.
Each time the stranger pushes Yoongi away or so much as takes a step in Hoseok’s direction, Yoongi is back on them, forcing them back with fierce strikes that hurt Hoseok’s ears.
The prince is no coward, but he knows when to back down and let someone else protect him. He is unarmed due to still being in his dance robes, and though he can probably take the assailant with some deft, calculated moves, he chooses to stand to the side.
Instead, he watches Yoongi protect him.
The attacker is draped in a dark, hooded outfit that obscures both his face and body. Only when the assailant ducks away from one of Yoongi’s slashes does Hoseok get a glimpse of the man’s eyes.
They’re calm and calculated, at ease and without malice.
His movements are aggressive, but his emotions are anything but.
Yet, before Hoseok could reason why the attacker doesn’t appear hostile, Yoongi lands a nasty hit in the man’s side.
The strike had been with the butt of the sword rather than the blade, but the assailant still hunches over the point of connection with a grunt of pain.
Yoongi pauses.
He and the attacker merely stare at one another, neither making a move to finish the other off. Hoseok can’t see Yoongi’s eyes, as the other is facing away, so he has no idea what is going through his new friend’s mind.
The stranger straightens his back, and the light collides with his mostly-covered face.
Hoseok can see the man’s eyes again, and what he sees this time is nothing other than trust.
Confusion swells in his mind once again.
“Get out of here before you’re killed,” Yoongi finally voices, and Hoseok wants to think he imagines the concern lacing the other’s words.
The shrouded assailant lets out a heavy sigh, and his tall frame sinks a little. His mouth opens to say something to Yoongi, but before he can, the sound of hurried footsteps arises from a nearby alley.
“Put your hands up!” Two gruff voices shout in unison, and a small unit of guards emerges from between the buildings. Their golden armor makes it obvious that they’re Illenheian knights.
The man that had attacked Hoseok doesn’t even give the prince a second look as he sprints away into the opposite direction.
Hoseok notes how fast the man is just as the knights begin to chase after him.
From where the guards had emerged now comes a woman with fading golden hair and a modest crown of gold-painted olive leaves and sun rays.
Yoongi’s eyes widen when he sees her, but she pays him no mind. Instead, she runs straight for Hoseok as her remaining guards move to apprehend Yoongi. “Hoseok!” She yells in relief and pulls the prince into a suffocating embrace. “My baby, are you okay?” She pulls away to look him in the eyes and cups his face. “Please tell me you’re not hurt,” she pleads with glassy, worried eyes.
Hoseok smiles at his mother. “Don’t worry. I’m okay. Yoon-”
The queen interrupts him before he can continue, “I told you to head straight home after the ceremony! What in Helios’ name are you doing here in the outskirts with a stranger? I told you that it’s dangerous! What if that man was one of the killers?” She’s out of breath by the time she’s done fretting over Hoseok’s disappearance.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Hoseok says, but he’s not ashamed- just apologetic that he made her worry. He looks over her shoulder and gestures toward Yoongi, who is now frowning as two knights hold him by the arms. “That’s Yoongi. I was helping him look for his brother when we were attacked. He protected me.”
The queen straightens and turns to face Yoongi. She studies him for a few long moments in silence, and Hoseok prays that she doesn’t find him suspicious and has him sentenced to death.
Hoseok knows realistically that she would never do that, at least not without a fair trial, but his mother can be very protective at times.
“You’re not from here,” she states simply.
Yoongi opens his mouth as if to speak, but then seems to decide against it and ducks his head instead.
“My son says that you lost your brother. Is that true?”
Yoongi’s eyes flutter back up to the queen’s. “Yes.” Another pause and he quickly adds, “Your Majesty.”
The queen smiles, but Hoseok can see her suspicion clear as day.
“Where do you come from?” she questions. “Another kingdom?”
Yoongi shakes his head softly. “A small village near Oraens. We’re not governed by a king or queen.” When Hoseok’s mother only continues to study him, he continues, “It can barely sustain itself. We never have enough food for more than one meal a day and we’re constantly raided by looters…That’s why my brother and I fled.”
The corner of Hoseok’s mouth dips. Hadn’t Yoongi told him that they’d fled due to family issues? Wasn’t Yoongi running from something?
Anxious nerves chill through Hoseok’s arms. Which story is the truth? Is either of them true?
Who exactly is Min Yoongi?
Hoseok’s mother, intelligent and protective as she is, also senses Yoongi’s suspicion. Her smile remains on her face, but it is unmoving and concrete. The grin is carved into her skin as if she were a beautiful, un-cracked marble statue. “And you’ve come to Illenheia for solace?” she speculates, breaking her silence at last.
Again, Yoongi shakes his head. He seems to have a hard time meeting her eyes. “No. We were just passing through.”
“Then what is your destination?”
Hoseok remains quiet and still as his mother questions Yoongi, eager for his answers. He’s just as suspicious as she is.
Yoongi licks his lips, and Hoseok picks up that the other man is nervous. Why would he be nervous, though? Just because he’s speaking with a queen? Hoseok knows that in some kingdoms that it’s rude and even punishable to look in the eyes of and speak directly to your ruler, but that’s not how it is in Illenheia. He wants to know if that’s the true reason for Yoongi’s apprehension, or if he’s actually trying to hide something.
Hoseok suspects the latter.
After some hesitation, Yoongi states, “We were aiming for the western coast, but anywhere that would have us, we would accept with gratitude.”
The queens turns to a wary silence once again, and this time, Hoseok truly doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to suspect Yoongi, but he has to protect his kingdom from suspicious strangers such as the other.
Then again, he did protect Hoseok from an attacker. Even if Yoongi is lying about his reasons for leaving home, he has the courage and character to shield the prince of a country that isn’t his own.
That, to Hoseok, is admirable.
No matter where Yoongi came from.
The tense silence is broken by the knight to Yoongi’s left. “What do you command we do with him, Queen Sohui?”
Hoseok looks toward his mother, awaiting her answer.
In Illenheia, the queen currently has the final say in all that goes. It hasn’t always been that way, but ever since Hoseok was born, Sohui commands all.
She is a great ruler, it’s true. She’s kind and merciful, yet knows when to put her foot down and when to lean on others for help.
Hoseok admires her a lot, given how much she carries on her shoulders. She didn’t exactly ask for her position, just how Hoseok had merely been born into his. However, pretty soon, the people will begin to suspect why Hoseok hasn’t taken over as ruler.
Until then, he’s more than happy to let her reign in his place. He’ll prolong his succession as long as he possibly can.
The sun dances off of the shiny ornamentation woven through the queen’s braids as she turns toward her son. Her eyes hold so must trust and fondness as she gazes at Hoseok, a silent question passing between the two.
“He protected me,” Hoseok tells her. ‘ Give him a chance’ goes unspoken, but still gets across.
Sohui gives him a short nod before turning back to Yoongi and her knights. A deep breath passes through her lungs before she speaks, an ever-present pressure weighing on her soul. “Yoongi, yes?” Upon the addressed nodding, she continues, “You come from far away to escape the poor conditions of where you were born, seeking solace for you and your brother. You may not have come to Illenheia seeking refuge, but, by my hand, we reach out to you.” A radiant smile graces her lips, and even through the lines and marks of aging on her skin, she is magnificently beautiful, just like her son.
“Illenheia will take in you and your brother. You will be treated like our own and given a place among us.”
Yoongi’s eyes widen. Whether it’s in gratitude, shock, or trepidation, Hoseok can’t tell.
“Wh…Why?” Yoongi asks, almost timidly. His body appears weak as the guards hold him by his arms.
“You protected a foreign kingdom’s prince from an attack,” the queen reminds him. She stands tall, and her smile flashes as bright as the sun above her. “From that act alone, I can tell that you’re brave, Yoongi. You’re selfless. You put a stranger before your own safety- someone that you owe nothing to.” Sohui places a bejeweled hand over her heart. “And that is something I seek to cultivate within this kingdom.”
Hoseok can see the hesitation in Yoongi’s eyes just as well as in his body language. It dances on the other’s skin as his hands clench and unfold, and as his eyes dart from the queen to the floor to Hoseok to the side, unsure.
“I don’t know you, Yoongi. You’re a stranger to me and mine.” Sohui’s smile eases and her eyebrows crease. She takes a step forward toward Yoongi and motions to her guards to release him. When he’s set free of their clutch, the queen gazes down at him, almost softly. To Hoseok’s surprise, she towers over Yoongi.
“But I believe in giving people chances,” she says.
Yoongi meets her gaze head on now, eyes no longer darting in doubt. His lips are lightly parted, but he remains silent as Sohui continues.
“I want to thank you for saving my son. So, please, Yoongi, accept my offer.”
In Hoseok’s defense, Yoongi did not save him. He wanted to speak up that he could have easily protected himself, but it wasn’t the time.
He had to focus on the fact that his mom was offering to allow Yoongi to live in Illenheia. It was extremely- no, extraordinarily rare for people to move here.
The hesitation from before now drips and pools into Yoongi’s words. “But…wh…Where would I stay? What would I do? You can’t just let me in and house me and feed me and expect nothing in return.” His eyes dart to Hoseok and away just as quickly, almost as if he’d find the answer written on the prince’s face but found nothing.
The queen continues to eye Yoongi with deep interest and a wise caution, but her gratitude for him standing up for Hoseok shines above all. “You’re right,” she says. “There’s only one thing I would expect from you.”
Even Hoseok doesn’t know what she is going to say, and he leans forward to ensure that he hears.
Yoongi looks equally in suspense. “What is it?” He asks it almost as if he doesn’t want to hear the answer.
Sohui beams. “Continue to protect my son. Be his bodyguard and defend him from any harm.”
Yoongi’s jaw drops.
Hoseok’s embarrassment explodes.
“Mom!” he yells, aghast. “I don’t need a bodyguard!”
His mother turns on him, her smile dropping. “Hoseok, you were just attacked in your own streets . Do you not realize that?” she scorns. “Someone just tried to take your life in broad daylight!”
“We don’t know that! What if he was just a reluctant thief trying to punch some money out of me to feed his kids, huh?” He’ll say anything to dissuade his mother’s declaration. He hates being shadowed day and night. He needs time to himself- away from the knights of the palace and the reaching hands of the townspeople. He would suffocate with a bodyguard.
“This is for your own protection, Hoseok. Trust me.” Sohui steps toward her son and takes his hands in hers. “This young man has proven that he can defend you, plus he needs a sanctuary for him and his brother. Is there not a better option?”
Hoseok hates that she’s right. Damn her brilliant mind. No wonder Helios fell for her.
When Hoseok doesn’t respond out of stubbornness, the queen turns back to Yoongi. “If you accept, we will help you find your brother. We will provide the both of you a room in our palace and you will be fed three meals a day rather than one.” The genuine smile returns to her lips. “And all you have to do in return is protect the prince.”
For a moment, Hoseok thinks he’s looking at a stone statue- a person petrified by Medusa before they could even utter a word.
Turns out, it’s just Yoongi. But he’s frozen solid and near unmoving as he stares at the queen.
It’s a great offer, in truth. Hoseok admits that. If Yoongi really is abandoning a life of starvation and poverty, he’ll live lavishly and comfortably in the palace. Or, if he’s fleeing ‘family issues’ like he had told Hoseok, he would be protected within Illenheia’s borders.
The answer is obvious, but Yoongi still hesitates.
Hoseok can’t help but wonder why.
Yoongi looks between the prince and the queen, his eyes uncertain and his brows scrunched. His mouth parts and closes several times before any words actually come out, and when they do, he sighs a heavy breath that sounds a lot like defeat. Like he’s reluctant to accept such a gilded, flawless offer.
“Okay,” he chokes out at last, nodding. “Okay. Yes.” He looks into Sohui’s eyes, his own growing in confidence. His hesitation and reluctance bury themselves deep. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” He still seems unused to addressing royalty, but he gives a polite bow all the same.
Yoongi then turns toward Hoseok, and the prince wishes in that moment that he could mind read. The other’s eyes are void of emotion and his thoughts are no longer written on his skin.
After a terse silence, Yoongi’s eyes clear. He gazes down Hoseok’s body and back to his face, sizing the prince up. Another short pause passes between the two, and Yoongi breaks it with a wicked smirk.
“I look forward to working with you, Prince Hoseok.”