Archive of Our Own

There were rumors spread all over the woods where the people in the city considered another kingdom, much to the government’s displeasure, that The Lord of the forest had made a deal with the royal kingdom.

People talked, exchanging any bits and pieces of information between themselves and they were confused, wondering why their mighty Lord had anything to do with the king, who hated them and their existence the most and had tried so many times to destroy them at any chance.

The hatred was mutual. Woodlanders despised the king who suddenly got on the throne and deemed them unworthy of life, dangerous and needed to be wiped off of the face of earth as soon as possible. Them, who had been there longer than the king’s grandfather’s grandfather could get the idea of ruling a nation. Them, a community as ancient as the first tree in the forest.

But The Lord was never a forgetful man of what the king did to them.

And never let the kingdom breathe.

So, what deal could be made between the two archenemies, people were wondering.

No news came from the higher ups though. Nothing that confirmed or rejected the rumors. Days passed as usual. Calm, cold, as the season of golden leaves got closer.

At last, words were landed upon them that they had to get ready, for The Chief was getting married.

With the young Prince from the savage kingdom.

So, that was the deal.

The initial shock turned in to a village vibrating with joy and excitement. A wedding was coming. The Chief was getting married.

The whole forest was buzzing with joy. Ceremonies were due. Dancing for weeks was on the way. So much to do. So much to celebrate.

And a question was hanging in the air the whole time: what was The Prince like?

The more the D-day came closer the more the village jumped in to motion. Hunters were sent to bring fresh hunts for the big party. Autumn flowers were carried in to pots, giving the village a more colorful picture. Wreaths hung off the doors with the barrels of fine wine lined up in a corner. The wedding outfits were crafted by the greatest care and passion. The main house had been cleaned and decorated, welcoming the new resident.

Two days before the wedding The Chief went to hunt.

And the night of his departure, the new member arrived in silence and dark of the late night. Wrapped in matt blue velvet cloak and his eyes jumped on the new surroundings, wordlessly judging everything from the people to the trees.

He was greeted rather warmly by the members of the main house, kindly ignoring his cold greeting and the far look in his eyes as they led him to the big house that was lit by big torches on either side.

The royal carriage left just like it arrived, leaving wheel prints that were barely visible through the muddy dead leaves. Being in a strange hurry as if the land was cursed.

“Welcome to your new home, my lord.”

Jimin said with a cheery smile as he looked at The Prince half hidden under the hood. The Prince didn't answer as he examined at the surroundings.

“Do I stay here for the night?”

A monotone soft voice came from under the hood.

“Yes.”

Jimin rocked on his toes with a hesitant look on his face.

 “With him?”

 “Oh no. Namjoon hyung left for hunt. He won’t be back till the day of the wedding.”

He heard a deep exhale that sounded like an exasperated sigh to him. The Prince carefully lifted the hood of his cloak and revealed his blond hair. He spun around to look at the surroundings and didn't notice the gasp from Jimin as he looked at him. Seokjin went for a content sigh, happy to at least the new member of the clan was beautiful.

“Are you hungry? I can make sure…”

“I'm not hungry.”

Hoseok cut him off with the same emotionless tone.

“I'm tired.”

Jimin bit his lip at the dismissive tone, a bit embarrassed. Seokjin didn't fret as he took his hand and smiled.

“We'll leave you to rest then. See you in the morning.”

 “I’ll be nearby, if you need me…”

Jimin shot his last resort before he was pulled along insistently, leaving the boy alone to sulk in peace.

When Hoseok saw his wedding outfit he wanted to scream.

He didn't though. He just gracefully traced a finger on the cloth to check the material and found it silky and soft. They prepared him thoroughly for the day. He let them be. It wasn't like he could say anything. Here wasn't home and he was in the land of the enemy.

He stood in front of the rusty mirror and checked himself out.

He was wearing sandals. With too many strings wrapped around his ankle and coming up his leg to just stop under his knee. And a skirt, golden and shiny and pleated and short! So short.

And as if they had run out of fabric there was a huge gap on his left hip with a round shiny clip holding the ends of the item together.

He questioned this very unsettling situation, worried if the attire was too small for him but Jimin reassured it was designed like this.

Hoseok exhaled a little too loud.

“Designed to be revealing?”

As if finalizing the disaster, the shirt coming with the goddamn skirt, was a goddamn sheer, backless and sleeveless thingy that barely covered his belly.

He touched the crown of small clusters of tiny berry-like purple flowers on his hair and tilted his head left and right to have full view of how delicate the color contrast was against his hair. It didn’t make him feel any better.

He was terrified.

He was shaking, and he didn't know if it was from cold- he had barely anything on- or dread.

“Is this outfit tradition?”

“Not the exact same but yes. The color truly suits you.”

Jimin said joyfully. Too happy for Hoseok's liking. The distress had stolen his breath away. He nodded, not sure if it was in Jimin’s response or was just trying to absorb the grandness of the situation. Shaking, chin quivering and mouth dry as if filled with cotton, he gritted his teeth to brace himself for the rest of this miserable life that had started from now, humiliation coming with the clothes.

The big and dark carved doors of the main house were opened for him. He squinted against the sudden light and his ears caught the excited hubbub before the crowd suddenly went quiet. He bit his lip at a collective gasp and looked at the mass of people waiting expectantly. his gaze fell on the tall man at the foot of the stairs, standing in a golden tank top, his buff arms out, but at least he was wearing brown leather pants and knee high boots. Hoseok took a second to grit his teeth at the unfairness of the choice of clothing before stepping out.

He kept his gaze low as he walked down the stairs carefully, focusing hard to put steady steps in spite of his wobbly knees. The last thing he needed in this circus was falling head first on the stairs in front of hordes of strangers. In between his slow and calculated steps, a hand came in to his view. He looked up and saw The Chief at the end of that hand, staring at Hoseok.

So, this was him.

The one he was married off to. The vicious resident of the forest, and the one who had frustrated his father too much that he had to trade Hoseok with some peace and safety from him.

Hoseok reluctantly slipped his numb fingers in his hand and with a trembling heart watched how they sat small and fragile in The Chief’s bigger one. He climbed down the rest of the stairs, hating that he was low-key grateful of the helping hand and when he finally landed on the flat ground The Chief turned to look at him.

Hoseok didn't look up. A little cold, a lot uncomfortable in his clothes, on edge to be in the center of the attention, sad, tense, scared and not sure if he would be able to like this guy, he stubbornly pinned his gaze at his feet.

The Chief though, guided his hand to hook around his arm as they started walking through the stream of joyful people, cheering for their Rose.

He didn’t know how he said his vows, he wasn’t sure how he kept his voice steady and didn’t choke on the words and didn’t see the ring that was slipped on his finger. He just knew these people were so dense and blind because they didn’t notice how much he didn’t want this.

The trees proceeded to shower them with yellow leaves. It was a beautiful scene if Hoseok felt better. He felt colder and colder as the day was passed to the night and his breath came out in short shaky huffs, ghosting a fog in front of him.

His eyes were droopy and his body hurt from how stiff he was the whole day, he didn't see and care about the party that sounded very entertaining. The air smelled of fire and food, goblets and cups banged together of overly cheerful and endless shots, he could hear music and laughter but he just didn’t care. At least the rest were enjoying themselves.

At some point he thought if eating something from the huge banquet would be nice but when he reached to the cutlery the man next to him tsked.

“Uh-uh.”

Hoseok startled, recoiling his hand back as if burned. Confused that what the hell is this way of treating their husband but then Namjoon raised a brow.

“I have to feed you.”

And reached for the fork and knife. Hoseok frowned, shifting in his place in discomfort.

“You don’t. I can...”

“I have to. It's my duty. It's tradition.”

Namjoon said as he brought a piece of meat to his lips. Hoseok blinked at it awkwardly before accepting it and nearly moaned as the meat melted on his tongue. He sighed as he chewed, feeling his body sigh with contentment again. The corner of Namjoon’s lips tightened, satisfied.

It was hella awkward to be fed like a baby or over romantic couples and he was hoping he could do something with his hands. He opted to wrap them around his middle, against all the posture education he’d learn at home. If the party was indoor he sure was blushing but now, he was freezing and hungry, he didn’t have enough focus on other matters. He would be embarrassed tomorrow.

His knees were pressed together and he couldn’t feel his fingers. He was stiff and the night breeze went just through his so called clothes. He couldn’t sit there anymore without ending up freezing or crying. But suddenly he was sunk in a fantastic feeling of warmth when a pelt was thrown over his shoulders. He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling the heat going back to his body.

“Hyung-nim.”

He opened his teary eyes and saw Jimin kneeling down next to him.

 “You can leave if you need to rest.”

He gasped comically, perking up.

“Can I?”

He turned and looked at Namjoon to confirm it. He couldn’t get up just to sit back down again. The Chief swirled his drink in his goblet and nodded once.

“Good night.”

Hoseok was up on his feet before he could acknowledge it. He wasn't happier since he came here than this moment. He left the party in silence and just rushed to the house, nearly crying in relief.

Although he didn't need help to take those clothes off, Jimin still offered help. For some reasons his fingers didn't work. He untied the strings of the sandals off his leg and helped removing his makeup, and dress in proper clothes. He slipped under the covers and curled in a corner to get warm and cozy. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

When Namjoon came in, Jimin was excusing himself to leave. He smiled and heaved a sigh.

“He just went to bed.”

“Thanks Jimin-ah. You did an amazing job today.”

He ruffled the boy’s hair fondly and made him giggle before going inside quietly. The noises of the still up going party barely reached here, the fire cracked in the fire place, lighting up the room with dim and warm glow.

On his bed was a lonely lump, and Namjoon slowly made his way to it.

Quietly, as to not awaken the fast sleep boy on his bed, he crouched down beside it, taking in the boy’s face.

He was beautiful.

When Namjoon saw him for the first time at the threshold, he couldn't help the little skip of his heartbeat. His soon-to-be husband was practically shining at the door step.

The outfit suited him well, showing off the delicate curves of his body, his toned deity legs and his blond angelic hair.

What a beautiful thing the old king kept in his palace.

And now that the boy was sleep Namjoon could now properly watch him. His flushed cheeks by the new heat were squished on the pillow and the tip of his smoothly sloped nose was red. He had a mark on the upper of his pouty lips that he just noticed.

His eyes, he had the prettiest eyes.

His husband was pretty.

But sad.

Namjoon's smile faded and with a woeful sigh he stood to get ready for bed.

Waking up was along with a headache and he internally groaned. Why the first thing to feel in the morning should be a headache?

Without opening his eyes he rubbed his forehead, filling his lungs with crisp air in a deep inhale.

He got married yesterday.

It wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t a joke, and it wasn’t temporary. He was really, seriously, undeniably and irreversibly married.

There was no way he could trick himself against the presence beside him in the bed. His husband. The title made his stomach churn. He didn’t want to be bound to some random person for the rest of his life just because some people wanted to prove how much power they possessed, but it didn’t matter what he wanted. He didn’t want so many things but none was important. He was here. He was married. He couldn’t go back.

He sat up slowly and hugged his knees to his chest. The fire had gone out during the night and the room was chilly. The big room he was in was so different from his own room in the palace. No high ceiling, long windows, sharp and rich colors, there was no delicacy in this room. It was almost monochrome, the timbers built up as if clumsily and roughly, it smelled like burned wood and rain.

It filled his heart with homesickness and longing. He’d been always feared this moment.

The Forced marriage or put it in a more tactful word, arranged marriage. It was what Hoseok feared his whole life.

 To be forced to marry someone. To be related to someone. To share a bed with someone else.

It wasn't like he could voice out his thoughts, going to his mother or god forbid his father, saying ‘Mom I'm scared of sleeping with someone who I just found out their name.’ that was so ridicules and out of character. Like it was bizarre for him to feel this way and have these thoughts just because he was a prince. Like princes were not human.

And it wasn't like they cared. They never cared. Fuck them.

No one ever cared.

His life was never his. He was never considered a being just to be. There were always titles and expectations attached to him like a second body. But he never complained. Even if he was scared.

Now he was married and forever stuck.

With this guy!

He spared at his side an unkind glance where Namjoon was sleeping shitless, snoring quietly, like nothing’s happened. Hoseok rolled his eyes and dropped his head on his knees. This was so awkward. He tightened his night gown around himself, worry bubbling up in his belly. He pressed, this was so awkward. People were really, really stupid, or extremely impassive if they were unbothered by these married intimacy stuff.

He didn’t even know this guy, how could he possibly convince himself to be that kind of intimate with him, ugh so disgusting…

And terrifying.

He made a distressed noise at the back of his throat and Namjoon stirred next to him, Hoseok stiffened. He pressed his arms around himself protectively and with wide fearful eyes watched Namjoon wake up. He blinked a few times before his eyes snapped to Hoseok, sitting there like a distressed kitten.

“You're awake.”

He stated with hoarse voice and rubbed his sleepy eyes. Hoseok only nodded in answer, his voice was suddenly gone. He was feeling hot out of nowhere and very self-conscious of his bare face, messy hair and his mere presence in someone else’s bed. It didn’t matter if that someone was his legal husband.

The only people that had seen him right after waking up were his personal maids who were banned from looking at him directly in the eye. So the next second he was trying to comb his hair clumsily with his fingers and screaming in his head. If he wanted to ignore this situation, he’d rather ignore it with a decent appearance.

But Namjoon beat him in to it. He didn't pry him to speak thankfully. He just got up, threw on a shirt and cracked his neck on his way out.

“Jimin!”

He yelled for the younger, breaking the tense morning silence and startling Hoseok who was still trying to fix his look helplessly.

When Namjoon was out of his sight Hoseok released the breath he didn’t know he was holding and collapsed back on his pillow.

Was he supposed to spend the rest of his life like this? Sure he would get used to it. But what if he didn't? What if he missed his old life every day and everyday was a weight he had to carry?

What if he never got used to his husband? Who…apparently didn't seem interested in him?

Was it a good thing…or not???

Jimin greeted him in the hall with a smile that could rival the sun.

“Good morning Hoseok hyung.”

He didn’t remember giving permission to be called like this but rejecting him felt too cruel. His cheeriness was sometimes so annoying but Jimin had been nothing but kind to him even if he’d been so bitter the whole time.

Hoseok smiled back, just to not drown the boy in his own pity party. He joyfully gestured to the table with both hands.

“Breakfast?”

With grateful glance at the table he sat down only to realize he was alone. He looked around, questioningly and tilted his head at Jimin.

“Ah. Hyung left already.”

“Already?”

A more conscious part of him was relieved and slightly thankful. Because as much as he was a bit down by his absence, Hoseok had no idea how he could handle Namjoon’s presence. His looming presence that felt like was taking half of the room, being too huge and intimidating to breathe under his nose. Did other couples need time to get used to their spouse too? Or it was just him being dramatic?

“Are you ready for today?”

Jimin interrupted his thoughts before they could storm out and get out of hand.

“What's happening today?”

He asked listlessly, discreetly judging the taste of the soup presented to him. Surprisingly-and not wanting to admit it out loud- the food here was not bad. It wasn’t bland or ordinary and he could close his eyes for a second and pretend nothing had happened and he was still in the palace if he wanted, but the truth was it tasted so different from the palace food. It was… even better! Hoseok made a face smacking his lips, his eyes ran over the other items on the table.

When he looked up, he almost chocked on his food when he saw Jimin standing there, wearing a shit-eating grin and holding an outfit that if no more, was just as revealing as the wedding outfit.

“What the hell is happening today?”

He didn’t come here with a happy heart, nor didn’t he come unbiased. He came here tense, with his guards high up to the sky, sulking about the whole ordeal even so he had no idea what to expect from now on.

All his knowledge came from the complaining generals, pushy advisors and his vexed father. About people in the woods who were barbaric, uncultured, hard to negotiate, though he had his doubts about the latter otherwise how else he was thrown in this marriage?

Politically, he was expected to adapt to any harsh change. He was raised to be flexible for days like this. He had to be open and inviting with any culture and pretend that oh he was so loving this. But instead he was rigid and stern and was extremely hoping the blatant daggers he sent everyone with his eyes were palpable.

It wasn’t difficult to be distant for him. Putting everyone at an arm’s length and drawing a deep circle around him to define the no-no area was his specialty. He was a prince after all or…well, he used to be at least. Words were a luxury. Touches, were a hard limit.  He wasn’t used to be approachable even if he was dying to be.

But here people’s words and smiles bothered him. He hated the attention, the people who constantly violated his personal space and privacy. He was missing his peace, his ability to order the maids to fuck off.

Initially he was planning to not show himself at all. To stay in his room, or now that he knew there was no room, his house, and spend the rest of his life lamenting. He didn’t know indoor activities here didn’t have much fans!

Every morning Jimin came –and didn’t care that he was invading someone’s house- and dressed him up in horrible outfits- which one day he at a fit of pure frustration declared that won’t be wearing anymore- and dragged him outside, to celebrate!

They didn’t care the weather was getting colder and colder each day and didn’t even seem to notice the change of weather and seasons. They loved to go out, they loved to be out and just be happy.

Something about these folks, aside from their strange taste for weird outfits and their over-friendly behavior, was that dear god, they were happy! He hardly could find a person with calm and serene demeanor who was not smiling and vibrating in excitement. It was overwhelming, borderline scary because as much as he tried he couldn’t understand the reason behind all these happiness.

He knew between these people he was the spotlight. From the bright color of his hair to his harsh contrast with the overall mood, he was like a winter prince in summer lands. Cold, distant, lacking attention.

Even if he wanted to keep up with their pace he couldn’t. There was so much he didn’t know and they were thrown at him before he could catch them. He really wished someone would put a stop at this race but his husband, either ignorant or feigning ignorance about the situation, didn’t look interested to do anything about it.

Every day that he woke up to an empty bed, another hot coal was added to the pile of lava in his heart when he thought about his so-called husband that he didn’t even want to think about. All his mornings were spent alone -with jimin’s kind company of course- and he had barely spoken to him after the wedding.

He caught himself biting his lips in anger when he saw him coming from afar and immediately veered off so they wouldn’t meet. His presence annoyed Hoseok, pushed him on edge and wanted to get as far as he could despite the persistent company he was forced to have every day.

Maybe Namjoon hated Hoseok just as much as he did. A mutual feeling. The one thing they had in common aside from the bed they shared. Maybe he played pretend that this marriage had never happened and cursed Hoseok each time he wanted to sleep for taking up his bed.

Well, Hoseok would happily and eagerly say yes to his own bed!

But Hoseok couldn’t help every time his heart sank like a war ship when he woke up to an empty bed. Felt like his husband didn’t even exist.

“You haven’t slept.”

He said, just above the cracking sound of fire, one late night when he came home and Hoseok was still awake. Hoseok watched as he put away his stuff. It was a first time watching him come home and his heart was a bit restless at the presence of the other man. Of the chance of conversation happening. He tried to shamelessly watch him as he undressed, much opposite of what he planned the first day, but eventually looked away. Namjoon slept shirtless anyway.

“I can’t sleep.”

He said in tiny, gazing at his fingers. Namjoon slipped under the covers, the bed dipped under his weight. Hoseok was no longer afraid of the formal closeness. He knew nothing would happen between them. Namjoon was simply not interested in him in any way.

“How was your day?”

Busy. Overwhelming. Had to taste spicy food all day. I can’t eat spicy food well.

“Good.”

He didn’t say what was on his mind. He didn’t ask Namjoon how his day was. Namjoon didn’t ask him any further questions as he turned his back to him.

“Goodnight.”

Came grumpily from beside him and he squeezed his eyes to let the tears fall silently.

“What's up for today?”

Hoseok mumbled around his cup of tea mirthlessly, on one of the mornings in the second week, hoping the answer would be a light one. Nothing too intense. He was still recovering from that goddamn wine ceremony when they first thing in the morning asked him to drink. He couldn’t remember anything from after lunch. He was lucky he came out of it alive. These people could drink. And he couldn’t bear the thought he had to adapt. He could never drink that much.

He felt so drained. He was sure there were dark circles under his eyes at the size of this cup he was holding. He just needed some break. Was it too much?

“Today you get you tattoo finally!”

He choked on his tea, spitting it out forcefully and coughing the remains in his windpipe.

“My what?”

Jimin blinked and politely, very politely wiped his wet face with the back of his sleeve.

“Your matching tattoo with Namjoon hyung.”

Namjoon had a tattoo? Where?

He carefully put the cup down, suddenly feeling sick and queasy.

 “A permanent tattoo?”

Terror was filling him up. Among all of the things he had gone through this one was a very, very serious one.

Poking his skin with a needle to put ink under it was not a JOKE!

“You’re The Rose. You need your part of recognition.”

“Can’t it be anything else? Like a bracelet or a scarf or something?”

He punched his words through gritted teeth. He was near hysterics and he wasn’t even noticing it. Even imagining getting a tattoo made him sick to his stomach, he needed three days to just mentally digest the idea, he couldn’t walk out of this fucking door to straight up get a mother fucking tattoo!

Jimin’s usual smile slowly faded and he shifted on his feet uncomfortably.

“It’s tradition. To have matching tattoo with The Chief.”

Tradition. These traditions were going to kill him.

 “Where?”

He tried to get a grip on his nerves.

“On your left hip.”

“Fuck.”

The house of the lady who tattooed people was warm and the smell of incense was rich in the air. Whether it was supposed to be calming or just a fancy thing, it was giving Hoseok a headache.

She greeted them warmly and politely instructed Hoseok to sit on a narrow bed. He sat there stiffly, staring at the wall in front of him and biting his lips raw.

 “Does it hurt?”

He whispered before he could stop the question.

“Yes. A bit.”

“How long does it take?”

“Maybe two or three hours. I try to be as fast as I can so we can be over this soon. Okay?”

She patted his shoulder tenderly. The gesture was kind but he couldn’t stop himself from flinching away. The lady's voice was warm. So opposite of her job that was poking people’s skin with a needle. Hoseok couldn’t brush away the judgmental comments of his head. He closed his eyes, discovering his hidden knowledge of curse words. If he managed to endure a few hours of agony, he could claim later that he was able to do anything.

Jimin cleared his voice, a bit awkward as he stood there.

“Hyung…you need to…lower your… slacks…”

Hoseok slapped his hand away and Jimin folded them in front of him grinning timidly. He didn’t have time to feel sorry for him. He was nervous and on edge and he didn’t know when exactly he might break but he knew it was close. So close...

He would never admit it out loud but he was crying. The pillow under his head was kind of wet from the tears that spilled from his tightly closed eyes. His hands were ice cold and seemingly he was shaking because once in a while the lady distantly told him to relax.

Sometime in the middle of the process he started to feel numb, he could barely feel any pain and he was just tired and wanted to get over it quickly. Jimin smiled down at him whenever their eyes met and he just rolled his eyes, not having enough energy to spare him any sympathy.

Marking his body, was never in his life plans. He absolutely never thought he would get a tattoo someday in his life. He was opposed the idea, he detested it, he would rather never think about it.

 “I think that's enough for today.”

It was the best statement he'd ever heard in his life.

He sighed, ignoring the tingling on his skin as he sat up. Jimin patted his shoulder encouragingly.

“Good job hyung.”

Hoseok only hummed, not sparing a glance. When he finally stood up and was ready to rush back home, his eyes ran around the room and stopped on the table. His eyes went wide and his head made a faint whirl at the red stained cloths.

“Is that...blood?”

“Um...yes...?”

The lady admitted, carefully exchanging a look with Jimin and suddenly Hoseok couldn’t feel his knees.

“Hyung-nim!”

Jimin gasped alarmingly, balancing him on his feet. He brought a hand to his swimming head.

“I need some air.”

He didn’t know how he was swept back to the house. He just wanted to sit down so his knee capes wouldn’t feel so hollow and his head didn’t feel like was going to fall over.

 He was sitting at the table one-sidedly, stretching his left leg and resting his head on his arm on the table when Namjoon arrived.

“Is it done already...oh, what's wrong?”

He barely registered Namjoon asking as he tried to take deep steady breathes. Namjoon came closer and kneeled at Hoseok’s feet. He was a sickly pale, his breathing was shallow and shaky and was squeezing his eyes shut.

“I think the tattoo was too much.”

Jimin softly murmured in his ear. Namjoon frowned, had the procedure gone wrong? The tips of the petals were peeking out from the loose hem of the trousers and the skin around the flawless lines looked red and raw. It was so fresh Namjoon felt irritation on his own skin.

He again looked at jimin who looked a little ruffled himself and fisted his hands. Jimin rubbed Hoseok’s thin shoulders and made a face.

 “He feels a bit sick I think it's better to go to bed early.”

He said and tried to give a tight lipped smile that more looked like a grimace and helped Hoseok up. He whined against the motion but Jimin shushed him kindly before taking him to bed. Namjoon just stood there hopelessly, not knowing what to do with his oversized body.

It was barely dark but Hoseok was already asleep. He sat there on a puff chair, watching the subtle frown on Hoseok’s face and occasional tears that escaped his eyes. His hand was clutching the blanket over his left hip and whined once in a while, shifting in discomfort. Namjoon let his head hung heavily between his shoulders as a deep sigh escaped him. He couldn’t take in the pouty lips and wet eyelashes anymore. He got up to fetch Jimin and find somewhere else to spend the night.

The next morning when Hoseok woke up and stretched his arms above his head, he felt overly exerted. He groaned rolling on his side.

“Ow!”

He yelped at the sudden subtle pain on his hip and suddenly his eyes were wide open. He kicked the blankets off himself and pulled his sleep pants down to stare at the tattoo of a huge perfect rose sitting there so innocently. So it wasn’t a dream. He really got a tattoo.

And what was that drama he did afterwards?

His hand came to clasp on his mouth muffling the multiples gasps that came with each second of recalling the last day.

“Oh shit.”

Then he faintly remembered Namjoon showing up for a while.

“Oh no.”

He rolled on his stomach, shoving his face in his pillow to scream and kicked his legs in embarrassment. Why did he do that? Why did he react to a meager amount of blood like that??? Of course tattoo came with blood. It wasn’t like he had bled to death! Why did he act like they had cut a limb off?

And why Namjoon suddenly was there? He was never there. Why did he have to come when Hoseok was at his lowest moment? Why?

That was. So. Embarrassing.

With a fallen face he padded to the hall. As always, breakfast was there. Barely glancing around he slumped on the chair and grabbed a spoon to busy himself with the food.

“Good morning.”

He mumbled when Jimin showed up and startled when Jimin gasped loudly and skipped to him to grab his face, squeezing his cheeks.

“Are you feeling okay hyung?”

Hoseok signed and closed his eyes in shame. He buried his face in the bowl of porridge again to not meet Jimin’s eyes.

“I’m fine. Please don’t worry about me.”

But Jimin was looking at him like he was dying. His face heat up in embarrassment.

 “I promise I'm fine. Please stop looking at me like that.”

It took Jimin a few long seconds to believe him but at last he signed and relaxed his posture.

 “Can I take a look at your tattoo?”

“Sure!”

He answered a bit too brightly, something he didn’t bother to show for days, and let Jimin put ointment on his skin. It was cold and tickled a little but he was barely feeling any pain. It made him to remember his ridiculous show the day before and once again, embarrassment flooded his veins.

 “Does it hurt?”

“Nope!”

Jimin looked up with a mixture of a seriousness and despair.

“Tell the truth please.”

“It doesn't hurt much. Just stings. With the salve on it’s so much better. I swear I’m not lying.”

That was so much talking for him and his image that he had shown the past days. But he was so embarrassed he couldn’t remember how to keep up with being like a distant person having a stick up in his ass.

“So, what's the plans for today?”

“Nothing.”

Hoseok stopped on his tracks.

“Nothing?”

How bizarre.

Jimin smiled tiredly.

“Yes. Hyung cancelled everything. No more ceremony for the rest of the world for you.”

Hoseok's eyes widened and a smile stretched his lips.

“Really?”

Jimin chuckled.

“Yes. Really. Hyung decided that it was enough.”

Oh.

What a relief.

He giggled. He fucking giggled after…ages and it felt so weird but he didn’t remember when was the last time he felt so delighted like this. The tightness in his body left him and he couldn’t help but giggle again. Jimin chuckled sadly watching him.

 “So? What do you wanna do?”

Okay. What did he want to do?

He thought about going back to bed. But no. His energy levels were going up now that he was free.

“I think...I think I wanna spend some time alone. Going for a walk maybe.”

He said softly. Jimin nodded in gentle understanding.

“Fine. Do you want me to call you for lunch?”

Hoseok mulled it over and then shook his head no.

“Thanks though.”

He whispered sincerely.

“It's alright. Have fun!”

And then he was free.

Peace.

Hoseok had never been in the woods before.

He had just watched the carpet of trees laid before the window of his room at the top of the many towers of the royal palace. His thoughts about future never reached there. He was not really interested of what happened inside the forest between the natives and the palace. It was trivial, it was unnecessary.

The last thing he wanted the fate lead him to was the forest, deep in the woods, tall trees looming over him, caging him like a fly in a beautifully woven spider web.

The forest that changed color with seasons, altering between rich green and warm orange giving Hoseok a different view from his window thought out the year, was now his home.

It was the forbidden territory. An unsolved mystery went on beyond these trees. Going against civilization and negotiation.

There was a one way ticket to the woods. Get inside and never come back.

The stories of those who made it out were almost too exaggerated to be real but they all had one thing in common. That the woods were cruel. Unforgiving towards the intruders. People who were crazy enough to play tag with death.

And his father handed him over to the woods.

“Get there, marry Chief Kim and keep him satisfied. Make it worth the deal.”

He never thought one day he would be talked to like that. Like he was a thing. Not a prince. Not a person. A thing!

The choked words of “but I don't wanna leave for the forest, I don't wanna marry someone I don’t know” never got past his lips.

He didn’t want to be here but he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

His father was so desperate that he couldn’t take control over this area. It frustrated him because it was a challenge that costed him a lot. He didn’t understand just how he couldn’t make them give in, with all the army and weapons and power he possessed.

Hoseok always wondered why he wouldn’t just let go. But now, after spending the past few days in their annoying company, he finally knew why his father hated them so much.

They were so free.

And that was what scared his father. Free people.

With a sad tug at his heart he appreciated it about them. And now that he could finally find some peace and quiet for himself he figured why he hated them so much. He envied them. Happiness. Freedom. Lack of formality. He had none of that. He wasn’t allowed to have any of that. If he did, he wouldn’t end up here. He would be free. His own person.

He wouldn’t be ending up in a loveless marriage and getting a tattoo and living in the middle of nowhere between crazy wild people who loved him so much.

They loved him so much.

Well except his husband, he hated Hoseok. He nearly started laughing wetly when he thought about how gentle some people were when he slapped his cold attitude in their faces. Why didn’t they hate him? He was the son of a person that gave them pain constantly. Why they didn’t hate him like Namjoon did?

Why he had to be a prince? Why couldn’t he be some ordinary boy that would meet his husband under no complicated circumstances and fall in love like a normal human being?

He spent the time like that. Running thoughts in his head and crying over his miserable life. His frustration. His loneliness. The woods were scary big, but also peaceful, the silence welcoming. The woods were cruel, but beautiful. At least now he didn’t wonder what was like inside the forest. He was inside the forest. And it was pretty.

He started to doubt his previous judgments when the walk back took longer than he thought. The path that he took for his walk was an imaginary, straight road, right at the back of his house. What he was walking now was still an imaginary straight road but there was something extremely off about it.

He cursed under his breath for getting so far so carelessly. But he wasn’t getting that far. Or maybe he’d taken a careless turn. He couldn’t remember what he did. Whatever it was, now he couldn’t find the way back.

Now he was slowly regretting he refused to be called for lunch. Probably no one was looking for him to not disturb his privacy. Great! Just great!

He walked, slowly losing the functioning of his brain. Did he have to keep walking or stay still? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t know. He just knew everywhere looked alike. Everywhere he turned his head he just saw trees. Old trees, young trees, dead trees, broken trees....

Just trees, trees, trees…

An ocean of trees without any end.

And he didn’t know how to swim.

He span around himself in infinite circles for a long time. The light in the sky was replaced with a soft glow that was dimming and the chill was slowly seeping in now that the warmth of the sun was gone, making his teeth chatter, breaths shaky. But he was violently shaking from whole another reason though.

Whether he was hearing things out of fear and lack of food, or it was a real thing, he was hearing howls from distance. He just wished it was so, so far away from him. He got dizzy when he looked up, the wind shook the branches and the twigs broke under his feet. The birds had finished their evening meeting long ago and now it was getting creepy quiet.

He stopped and squinted in the dark. He though he saw something. A movement. With a gasp and a drumming heart he hid behind a big tree and peeked. And he saw light.

Oh!

It was a light from a torch, and he heard faint sounds of people talking, and soon he made out the shadows of bodies moving between trees. Relief embraced and he heaved a heavy sigh. Thank goodness they must be coming to search for him.

The voices got louder but he couldn’t fathom the number of them. It didn’t matter. One person or one hundred people. He just wanted to go back. When the first face came to view and he could get a better view instead of broken glances, with a little tilt of his head, he wondered if he had seen those faces before.

“Oh? Hey!”

One of them addressed Hoseok with raised eyebrows, informing his friends of Hoseok’s presence. They all stopped and Hoseok quickly counted them. Five. With a large dead boar accompanying them.

“Who are you?”

“Um…”

That, didn’t feel right. His eyes jumped on them one by one, trying not to appear as frightened as he felt.

“What are you doing in the woods? Alone?”

Another one asked, tilting his head. Hoseok didn’t like how he was looking at him.

 “I'm...”

“Oh no. Are you lost pretty one?”

“No. I'm okay.”

He rushed to say.

“Oh, but you don't look fine.”

He could make out a smirk in the dim light.

“It's dangerous to be in the woods at this hour you know. There's wolves.”

And just in time, howling sounds from distance cut in. The men were unbothered through it while Hoseok snapped his eyes on his dark surroundings in worry. One of them shrugged in a way that was supposed to be nonchalant but Hoseok immediately caught the cocky message behind it.

“And dangerous people.”

“You look expensive though. Where are you coming from?”

He huffed, maybe from exasperation, maybe from pure fear.

“I was just going home.”

He gestured to a random direction, hoping it didn’t lead to the wolves’ den.

“Home?”

One of them asked as he grinned widely. Hoseok didn’t like that grin.

“Where your home?”

“Just a few minutes away.”

“Oh!”

Shit. He didn’t like how they were looking at him.

“Maybe we can accompany you! It’s dark after all and you’re…all alone.”

A wicked green appeared with the last word that punched the air out of his chest. This wasn’t good. This was bad.

“No thank you. You have your hands full after all, and I no longer would be taking your time. Gentlemen.”

He nodded at them and made a sharp turn to go to the opposite direction, as fast as his shaking legs allowed. He could here footsteps behind him and with a peek over his shoulder he saw that yes, he was being followed. That was enough for the alarms to go off and he started running.

His pace was slowed by the trees and darkness and panic and he was down sooner than he thought by a tree root on his way. The men caught up to him quite soon.

“Oops! You fell!”

He shoved away a hand that came to wrap around his arm.

 “Get your hands off me.”

He hissed, quite opposite of what he had initiated before.

“Now, now don’t be so upset, we are just trying to help.”

He pushed the callused hand away from his chin and made a disgusted face.

“I don’t need your fucking help. Leave me alone.”

“Just come with us honey. You’re cold, we’ll warm you up.”

He wanted to throw up. These men smelled like sweat and animals and lust and they got closer than he deemed safe. He was feeling sick and lightheaded and helplessly tried to get away only to be hoisted up by their wandering hands. He screamed his voice raw, hoping that if there were other people that he didn’t know of, hear him. Nothing happened except him being dragged along with the men to a way he didn’t want to go.

He didn’t know if they were getting far or closer to home, but he knew this place was not where he was living. And these people were not his people. His people wouldn’t tie his hands with rough ropes and throw him in a dark smelly corner. If wolves had found him he was sure their attitude was more decent, more respectful.

“What do we have here?”

His presence made a small commotion between the rest of that party, he once again found himself in a center the attention. And then, only then that there were eyes zoomed on him lustfully like he was a fresh meal, he knew how different his status was back at home.

He glared daggers at whoever looked at him the wrong way but it only entertained them more. A cockier one, with a big scar on his face, immediately took interest in him.

“His demeanor screams rich but his clothes...” He sneered. “More like a bitch?”

“Let me go you dirty bandits.”

He shouted in the man’s face, knowing well it wouldn’t do much to help him. The man gasped comically, humiliating him more

“He is calling me a bandit. Oh I’m so offended.”

“I don’t have any money!”

He forced out between his clenched teeth, trying hard to not pull the ‘do you know who I am’ card. If he did that, if they knew he was The Prince, they would definitely kill him and send his head to his father.

“But you have pretty lips. Awww I bet you have pretty legs too...lemme see...”

With a startled yelp, he kicked his legs to the hands stretched to touch him. He scooted away from the man, panting shuddering breathes as he stared at the man in horror. He only scoffed, not bothered a bit.

“What you all do is just tiring yourself. Come on. Be good.”

“Go away!”

He shrieked, attempting to kick the man in the face, but he was just grabbed by foot and pulled closer. There were other people who did nothing to help him other than standing there, watching, snickering and probably waiting for their turn.

 “Hey...hey stop.” A vice broke out between the crowd and he pushed himself up weakly to curl in himself, crying silently.

“Stop....he is Kim Namjoon’s bitch.”

He perked up by the name, heart racing and aching at the same time. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched a knowing look washed over the man’s face and the whispers ran through the crowd.

 “I heard they are looking for him.”

The second man informed them, a little passively as all the eyes once again locked on him but now with a different weigh. He sniffled, squeezing his eyes. They were looking for him. They knew he was missing.

“Is that right?”

The first man, still not backing away, dragged his tongue over his lip and ran his eyes up and down his body judgingly and his stare stopped, suspiciously at Hoseok’s lap.

“I would like to check it myself.”

It took Hoseok a few seconds to realize what he meant. He cried, once again filling with cold dread.

“No!”

He was wrestled to the ground by a man who was much stronger than him. His tied hands could just scratch and punch uselessly, hurting himself further as blood drippled down his hands, hitting his nose with a smell of iron and rot. He felt faint when big hands circled around his waist rough enough to burn the sensation in his memory, fingers hooking the hem his pants, tugging down.

The man looked rather unimpressed by the tattoo blinking at him and finally let go of him, disappointed. Hoseok curled on himself, sobbing. Feeling shattered to the depths of his core. His skin tingled where the man’s dirty fingers had touched and he wished he could just burn the memory away.

“I guess you're in so much trouble. your master is looking for you.”

He grabbed Hoseok’s chin to bring his face up.

“How much dare you have in your little heart to run away...with these little feet.”

He cooed. An abrupt rush of pure fury hit Hoseok like a thunderbolt and the next thing he knew, he had spat in the man’s face. He let go of his face, the smug look replaced by disgust and a dangerously stone expression.

“Little shit.”

His face burned hot with the impact of the rough big hand. He didn’t have time to properly feel it before he was grabbed by hair just to receive another punch. And then another.

“You fucking disgusting whore.”

 “Stop you idiot!”

“He fucking spat on my face. Gonna fucking put him in place.”

“You're not going to that. He has a husband. They're looking for him.”

Hoseok scurried away as fast as he could while he had time, getting as far as he could from the assaulter. The crowd had discarded now that the fun was spoiled.

“Gonna go tell them he is here.”

He didn’t know which was worse, him trapped here, or the meaningful looks they gave him that froze his heart all over.

 “You're dead pretty one. Master is gonna be mad mad.”

He let out an amused ugly laugh.

“Can't wait for him to come get you. Hope he fucks you raw here and then. You need to know your rightful place.”

He spat at his feet, cackling madly at Hoseok’s wan face. His tears dropped one by one as he sat there, trembling, staring at his bond hands, waiting for Namjoon come and get him. He was scared. He didn’t have to be. He hadn’t done anything wrong. But he was so scared. Not a long time in to his new life and he’d thrown himself in to a huge trouble.

It didn’t seem to settle well with Namjoon. Shit, he knew nothing about his husband. How should he know how he’d react? He didn’t like that these people’s words jabbed at his heart. But he couldn’t help it. He was so scared.

After long, cold minutes sitting on the dirt and staring at his hands, Namjoon barged in, he looked bigger, a dark menacing halo encircling him. The black bear skin hugging his shoulders made him look even bigger.

Hoseok shrank back like a trapped mouse before he could stop himself. His breathing hitched and he sure was as pale as snow when Namjoon dropped on one knee in front of him and brought a hand to his face. He grabbed his jaw in one big hand and forced his face up. Hoseok locked eyes with his hooded dragon eyes and shiver ran through his spine. A single tear slipped down.

Namjoon tilted his face left and right, his eyes went up and down his body and back on his face.

“Who did this to you?”

His voice was raspy deep and low. So low Hoseok didn't hear it; He fucking felt it vibrate deep in his guts.

His eyes jumped to the guy from earlier and Namjoon quickly caught it. He turned slowly, standing to his full height. Hoseok didn’t know why he hadn’t died yet from a heart explosion. Namjoon looked the man dead in the eye, standing chest to chest with him, and the man didn’t budge as if he owned the forest.

 “You touched my husband?”

The man had the audacity to smirk smugly.

“All I did was a little reminder for his rightful place. Haven’t you disciplined your whore properly yet? Need help?”

The man smirked smugly, looking Namjoon up and down. Hoseok didn’t feel good about the way Namjoon’s eyelid twitched but the man didn’t seem to be noticing it, still grinning proudly. That grin was wiped off his face barely one second later and he was on the ground, groaning in pain and gripping his face, blood oozing out from between his fingers. Hoseok was sure he heard something crack. 

Namjoon crouched down at his head, expression alarmingly calm.

 “That was for getting your dirty hand on what is mine.”

He muttered, gazing down like he was looking at something at the bottom of his shoe.

 “Do not ever touch my property again, or I will chop your dick off and then feed it to you!”

He patted the guy’s head before gripping his hair in a tight fist and pressing his face to the ground. Hoseok watched with eyes glued to the scene in front of him, the man writhed under Namjoon’s hand in pain, blood pooling under his face.

“What a wonder you did it in the first place. You seem in urgent need for some discipline. Need help?”

He pinned him down by dropping his whole weight on his knee pressed on the man’s shoulder blade and wrenched his arm back by the wrist swiftly, earning sickening, audible, multiple cracks and an agonizing screech that was heard in the whole forest.

Hoseok couldn’t remember how to breathe. He was sure he was going purple. He didn’t know how others were still standing and weren’t on their knees yet. He didn’t even notice someone had draped a cloak over his shaking shoulders.

Namjoon advanced on him with long strides and yanked him up by the arm. He stumbled, almost falling over, but Namjoon’s bruising grip held him upright. He didn’t even know what was happening anymore.

His brain recognized a party, with horses and a few familiar faces that none were looking at him. He mounted a horse and with Namjoon’s firm arm encircling his waist from behind, like an arrow they were off to the depth of the forest.

“Oh my goodness hyung, what...”

Jimin darted to them as soon as the horse stopped. His voice was high and quivering. Hoseok felt horrible for making him worry but he didn’t have time and energy to spare others when he was neck deep in trouble. The hood of the cloak saved his face from eyes but he felt gazes on himself, boring in to his soul. Judging and sour.

“Not now Jimin.”

Namjoon’s voice was tight from the force of the leash he was putting on to not lash out, but he was dragging Hoseok to the house by his aching arm as he tried to keep up, stumbling and staggering like a new born fawn. Namjoon was so enraged. Hoseok saw his whole life flashing before his eyes.

He didn’t go further when Namjoon released his hold on him, unable to move another step, he stood rooted to spot, staring at his still tied hands.

The door slammed shut loudly next to him and his whimper got lost in the sound. Namjoon paced back and forth, running a hand though to his hair. Huffing and emitting such energy it could crash Hoseok right there.

He didn't dare look up. His body and brain were frozen by cold and panic. He just remained by the door not daring to move an inch. His vision swayed, he was suddenly feeling hot and cold at the same time.

Suddenly, Namjoon was kicking the table, toppling it over.

 “Fuck.”

It scared the shit out of him.

Collapsing on his knees he threw up by the wall. Hurting his throat and muscles as his whole body spasmed and ached with every cough.

Suddenly Namjoon was on his knees before him, before he could crawl away, hands were gripping his arms, forcing him to face up.

“Don’t you ever do that. Ever. Do you hear me?? You can’t just go away. You don’t know this place. There are tons of wild animals that could have ripped you apart. You could have fucking died.”

Hoseok tried to breathe but he couldn’t. His chest heaved painfully but he was inhaling nothing and Namjoon shaking him wasn’t helping either.

“Why did you do that? Why did you run away?”

Namjoon yelled in his face with a desperate undertone that Hoseok couldn’t get. He couldn’t even understand what Namjoon was saying, he was about to die.

“Hoseok!”

“But I didn't...I didn't run away.”

He whispered softly, trying to stay conscious.

“What?”

“I just went for a walk. And...and I got lost on the way back…”

 “You didn't run away?”

Namjoon repeated softly, all hard surface shattering as he blinked in disbelief like he was trying to break out of a trance. Realization punched him right in the face, taking his breath away. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

 “I didn't w-want to make any trouble… I just went for a w-walk. But then I got lost… and couldn’t f-find the way. I didn’t know where I was. It was getting dark, then...then they found me and I didn’t want to go with them but they…they m-made me to…I’m so sorry. I wanted to come back but I just couldn’t…I…”

He knew he had to breathe but was babbling nonsense instead. The words didn’t even come out properly. Suddenly he was crashed against a sturdy warm chest, strong arms circling around him securely, a hand gently cupping the back of his head.

“Breathe Hoseok. Breathe.”

He tried to breathe in between harsh hiccups. His chest felt so hollow, his ribcage felt like shattering. But then, there were arms holding him up, not in a harsh way. Bitter sadness bubbled up in his chest and clenched his heart painfully, forcing out a compulsive heartbreaking wail and then he crumbled in a desperate crying fit.

He didn’t even have the power to push Namjoon away, but welcomed the warm big hands sprawled over his back and shoulders, grounding him. Thin fog slowly covered the expanse of his mind and he melted against Namjoon like ice.

He vaguely caught Namjoon’s voice, probably saying nonsense because in no way Hoseok could comprehend sentences with more than three words right now. All he wanted was to get horizontal so he didn’t have to carry the dead weight of his body anymore. He wanted to crawl under cozy blankets and sleep for the rest of his life, and not hearing the crazy loud bu-dum bu-dam of his heart over everything.

He tried to voice out his urgent desires but everything was just so heavy including his eyelids and tongue. He thought he heard Jimin’s distant voice, but he couldn’t remember when he came inside. His memory was all foggy now, everything was in jumbles and scattered all over his head, hurting it, he wanted to shut down and get some sleep soon but now Jimin was impossibly louder, jabbing at the sides of his consciousness.

 “Well done hyung. Very well done.”

He growled, punching his words in the air. When did he get so close?

“Shut up Jimin. Just do what you’re doing.”

His ears caught Namjoon’s growl from a distance. Now, who was where?

“You shut up. I can’t believe you.”

This was really confusing. His brain complained about being disturbed but he couldn’t find his lips or the rest of his body to declare his protest. He huffed in a weak exasperation and then sighed in contentment when a cold, wet cloth landed on his burning forehead.

Oh! He was in the bed. Now nice. How did he end up here?

“I can’t even believe myself. Just stop.”

Wherever Namjoon was, he was apparently moving because his voice volume didn’t stay stable. And that was annoying. A deep raspy voice muttered next to him.

“I agree. Why don’t you all shut up and let the boy rest?”

Hoseok gave a mental thumbs up to this great idea, but Jimin wouldn’t stop right there. He was Jimin. Hoseok groaned internally.

“No seriously. How can you not remember this very first thing? Are you blind?”

“For gosh sake Jimin, I forgot.”

“Brings in the poor boy like a hostage. Thinks he is oh so cool…”

Namjoon cussed somewhere from the other side of room. These all commotion and confusion made Hoseok’s head hurt. He really wanted to tell them all to shut up but he still couldn’t find the nerve connecting his brain to his lips. He inevitably listened to the others figuratively yelling at each other.

“It’s stupid. What were you thinking?”

“I wasn't even thinking...”

“Of course you weren't thinking. Otherwise who with good eyes can't see those ropes at thick as Jungkook’s dick?”

“Hey!”

Someone exclaimed from another corner.

“And who with a working brain wouldn't untie them unless they want them on!”

Jimin snapped, seemingly ignoring everybody.

“Why the fuck would I tie him up? I'm not a barbaric bastard.”

Namjoon hissed back.

“With all due respect hyung, I was thinking the same.”

Someone else, other than that Jungkook guy spoke up.

“What?”

Namjoon stopped moving, or pacing or whatever he was doing and Hoseok was genuinely thankful. He sounded very incredulous though.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry hyung but you’re very scary when you’re angry I honesty was fearing for my life.”

After a pregnant and peaceful moment of silence, Namjoon sighed in frustration.

“Fuck. I’m losing my mind.”

God bless Jimin.

“You should be. Your husband has been kidnapped and assaulted. And you didn’t even bother to untie his hands.”

Namjoon didn’t go with another biting retort; instead his voice was tight in concern.

“Is it bad? Are his wrists hurt badly?”

“Why don't you come look for yourself if you care so much?”

Hoseok hissed when Jimin jostled his sore wrist and suddenly all his nerves connected all at once in his whole body. Now not only he could find his lips to whimper, but also could feel how much he was aching all over.

“Shit. Sorry hyung. I'm so sorry….hyung?”

Jimin’s voice immediately went soft and comforting as he gently gripped his fingers in his hand.

“Hurts...”

He mumbled as best as he could with a tongue made of stone.

“I know. You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

When some soft pads of fingers brushed against his cheek he realized he was crying. He peeled his sore eyes open and was grateful for the dim light. Jimin’s blurry face came in to his vision, eyes full of worry and a rush of relief and longing washed over his face when he smiled at Hoseok. Hoseok sniffled, grateful that no one was talking now. In between those fragile silent and blurry moments he locked eyes with Namjoon’s worry filled ones and before he could ask them to really stay quiet he was drifted back to sleep again.

He spent the whole next day in bed. Staring at a corner blankly or dozing off, refusing to stay awake for more than fifteen minutes, or his brain betrayed him and replayed everything with extra horrible comments of what would have happened if those people didn’t acknowledge him and Namjoon would never come to rescue him.

He wanted to sleep off all the horrible feelings and memories that sent violent shivers to his body all of a sudden and made him sick to his stomach.  

His whole body hurt in and out. His face felt weird and he didn’t want to know how he looked like. He didn’t like the grimace that Jimin gave him every time he came to check on him, insisting to eat the porridge that would help settle his nausea.

With every terrible physical and mental sensation all gathered in him at once, he felt so cold and empty. His heart felt hollow. Like a paper sphere. He didn’t know what to do with it except sleeping, and crying wasn’t working anymore.

He felt battered in a word.

Namjoon’s frequent but indecisive visiting was annoying him above all. He flied in and out like a stray puppy, unsure what to do and Hoseok didn’t have it in him to feel pity or even sparing him a glance.

So when he cracked his eyes open after a seemingly long nap, what he saw was a big hand, a bit rough but gentle over the white bandages on his own hand, hidden and wrapped gently under the bigger one, his sleepy brain hummed trying to figure out where it came from. But the next thing he felt was the familiar warm presence behind him, not too close but close enough to drape an arm over his waist and hold his hand.

Oh!

He blinked hazily.

“You awake?”

Someone whispered next to his ear. He heard his heart sigh in contentment and after hours, he finally relaxed. Instead of answering his burrowed his face in the pillow and pressed back to Namjoon’s chest, feeling small in a nice way, like he could hide and no one would find him any soon.

“Stay.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

Namjoon shuffled closer, more confident and relaxed. Hoseok gripped his forefinger tightly for good measure. 

“Don't leave.”

He would extend his good measures if he knew he would flutter his eyes open after a nice nap and the first thing he would feel would be the lack of heat from a second body.

His heart sank gloomily like a lonely ship in the middle of nowhere. He looked over and a sob was wretched out of his chest when he didn’t see Namjoon there. He sat up heavily, feeling his chest hurt from a deep heartbreak. He didn’t see Namjoon anywhere.

He brought his fists to his eyes to sob freely like a baby. He would be embarrassed if he was in a more stable state of mind but he was lonely and felt abandoned more than ever. He wailed, not caring if he looked and sounded absolutely ridiculous. His husband couldn’t even stay with him for half a day. His husband hated him. He always left him and Hoseok was always lonely.

In between his sobs the bed dipped next to him and big hands pried his hands away.

“No no no no. why? Why?”

He snuffled loudly, only stopping to look at Namjoon sulkily before start crying again.

“Oh my god what happened? Did you have a nightmare? Are you in pain?”

Namjoon was frantic as he cupped his face trying to find out the problem.

“Where did you go?”

Hoseok cried, catching him off guard. Namjoon screwed up his face like he was sitting on something sharp and delicately brushed his tears away.

“I’m so sorry. I thought I was quick.”

He sighed at his poor excuse. Even if there was a war going on out there Hoseok wouldn’t buy it. His eyes said he wouldn’t buy anything right now.

“Why did you leave me?”

He had no idea he was able to throw tantrums like this. Namjoon’s devastated face said he also had no idea Hoseok was able to throw tantrums like this but more than that he was shaken as to how to take control of the mess he had created. Just to put fuel into the flames, someone barreled in the room.

“Why is he crying?”

Jimin sounded like he had pulled his sleeves up and was ready to throw fists. It put Hoseok’s mind in to ease that at least there was someone mean to Namjoon. He left them alone after some severe staring contest with a desperate Namjoon.

“I just went to get you this. You should eat something.”

He pointed at the table and brought the bowl of steaming soup on it closer. Hoseok glared at it with so much detestation and anger that Namjoon was scared if he would flip it over.

 “I’m not hungry.”

“Honey, you need to eat.”

Hoseok accepted the cup of water that was given to him with one hand, gripping a fistful of Namjoon’s shirt with the other. He truly wanted to shove the cup and the bowl to his face for leaving without permission but Namjoon was rubbing his back and was calling him ‘honey’, so Hoseok just kept glaring at him, hoping it was enough of a threat.

The rest of the day went smoother as he felt more sober and not as awful anymore. He took a nice warm bath and ate what was given to him. Namjoon kept his promise and didn’t go further than an arm’s reach or Hoseok would start the waterworks again. He didn’t think the memory of what he was doing was going to kill him in the future, he just knew Namjoon was safe, and he was supposed to be close.

He basically spent the rest of the day shamelessly in Namjoon’s arms.

So when Namjoon woke up to an empty bed the next day, he panicked. He nearly sprained an ankle when he hopped out of bed in search of his husband who was soon found next to the table.

“Oh.”

Namjoon breathed, feeling like recovering from a quick death. Hoseok blinked at his sudden appearance and waved sheepishly.

“Hi.”

“You're awake.” Namjoon let out another relieved sight before walking up to Hoseok.

“Why are you up so soon? Are you feeling okay?”

He placed a hand on his forehead, on his cheek, cupping his face in his hands.

“Does it hurt?”

He brushed his thumb over a bruise. Hoseok grimaced.

“Only when you press on it.”

He said quietly, hyper aware of Namjoon’s big hand over his cheek his and closer than usual presence. Namjoon moved his hand away reluctantly.

“Sorry.”

He lingered for another second awkwardly, not sure of the next move when Hoseok gestured to the table with uncertainty, a blush forming on his cheeks.

“I made breakfast.”

 “Oh.”

Now Namjoon noticed everything set on table. It was oddly familiar yet at the same time very weird. His mind couldn’t connect Hoseok with the act of ‘making’ the breakfast without breaking.

Something inside Namjoon wasn’t pleased with that and he probably wasn’t careful enough to not let it show on his face. Hoseok blinked in anticipation while he picked at the loose ends of the white bandages around his wrists.

 “Um, I know you leave without having breakfast, but…I just wanted to make this, for you.”

For one second he seemed like he was about to run and hide but he stayed his grounds bravely even if shades of dark pink was slowly dusting his cheeks. And Namjoon’s still-asleep, worried brain was not able to sink in the implication of that sentence because the only thing he could think of was whether Hoseok had rested enough or overexerted himself or cut or burned himself while making these foods…for him!

Whatever stupid face Namjoon was making, wiped the light off Hoseok’s eyes, making Namjoon want to surge forward and bring it back. He shifted uncomfortably and his shoulders sagged in disappointment.

“I’m sorry.”

Namjoon wanted to slap himself!

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for.”

He sat down, tried to not think about how unceremoniously he did that and grabbed his spoon. Hoseok very cautiously slipped on the other side’s bench and folded his hands in front of him nervously.

“I didn’t know you knew how to cook.”

Namjoon commented after trying the very surprisingly delicious soup.

“I don’t.”

Hoseok shook his head, admitting the truth with sincere eyes.

“This was my first time touching cooking utensils.”

He sucked his bottom lip in and furrowed his eyebrows in worry.

“Is it bad?”

“You didn’t hurt yourself, right?”

Hoseok shifted back a little as if caught off guard by the question. He showed his hands to Namjoon’s scrutinizing eyes.

“I’m okay.”

Namjoon nodded, satisfied.

“I gave Jiminie a very very hard time.”

Namjoon chuckled, picturing the scene very vividly. Them, in a steaming kitchen, a frantic Jimin and a confused but determined Hoseok trying to make this work somehow.  He reached out and patted Hoseok on the head fondly.

“You did a very good job.”

That was probably the best thing he could say because the light was back in his eyes and he leaned forward again, expectantly.

“Really?”

Namjoon hummed encouragingly, putting a well-wrapped dumpling on Hoseok’s plate. Finally getting his face expression and manners in control. Hoseok mumbled a tiny ‘thanks’ and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear timidly.

“So…um…do you want me…to do this every day?”

Namjoon swallowed the urge to coo along with a mouthful of rice and vegetables. He didn’t know why he was still here and hadn’t melted yet. Or why he still hadn’t kissed Hoseok. How strong his will power must had been that he was still sitting here and mustering a rather descent face while nodding gracefully at this adorable human being.

The sheer eagerness in his expression was so endearing. This was the first time Namjoon saw him this lively, the eyes sparkling like little galaxies and cheeks blushing beautifully, lips threatening to open to a bright smile instead of pulled in to a tight line.

“Did you enjoy spending your time in the kitchen?”

“Yes.”

Came his immediate answer like an over-excited kid. Anything that caused him forget putting his detached-face mask on, must have been worth trying.

“Then you can do anything you enjoy doing.”

Namjoon concluded. Hoseok looked very satisfied at that. He took his spoon too and tried his own cooking, making an expressed face like he didn’t expect himself to be any talented at this.

“What about the things I don’t enjoy?”

He suddenly asked, before he could have second thoughts because this was a very important question. The way Namjoon knew exactly what he was referring to was ironic. He didn’t know how to answer that to not destroy everything he’d built till now.

“For…other things…we can talk.”

Talking was good. He, with a wistful heart, noticed how this was the very first civil and normal conversation between them and sighed, regretting why he hadn’t done it sooner, probably buy them more peace and save them from much more avoidable bitterness.

There was still doubt. But he was determined to make it vanish. He didn’t lie. They could talk. They could make each other understand. He didn’t want to assume things and run away like before. He couldn’t bear the consequences anymore.

After the meal, Namjoon ushered Hoseok to sit next to the fire and cleaned the table himself. He joined him soon with a mug of hot cocoa and fresh clean cloths. He kneeled down at his feet, placing the mug in between Hoseok’s hands.

“Be careful, it’s very hot.”

Hoseok looked at the big hands, handling his own hand with care. The proximity was not awkward, but tickled his guts, making him want to pull his hand away and run. But as much as he was tempted to do so, it would be extremely impolite, so instead he pressed his knees together and busied himself with the drink.  He breathed in the sweet scent of the drink before taking a gulp, smacking his lips to recover from the slight burning feeling he’d been warned about.

“Don’t burn yourself please.”

Namjoon mumbled without looking at him, unwrapping the bandages with utmost care. The skin on his outer wrists was scrubbed raw, nicked and scratched in places. Namjoon cursed under his breath, face sour and grim as he put ointment on the wounds.

“Who are those people?”

Hoseok asked in a small voice as if afraid the question summoned them back or enraged Namjoon. However Namjoon remained his calm as he answered.

“Other residents of the forest.”

He tilted his head up barely to just glance at Hoseok.

“It's not just us here.”

Hoseok looked away, trying to imagine beyond the walls and the safe borders of the village, to the unknown depth of the vast forest.

“There are more people?”

 “There are more people. This forest is huge.”

In this huge forest that didn’t have an end, there were more people living. More than he’d met or imagined. And probably the only thing they had in common was their homeland. He could hear gears turning to get a quick grip of the situation. But he was confused, looking at Namjoon who was calmly tending to him as if there weren’t some savage uncivilized people, just like his father described, wandering in the woods, traumatizing passengers.

 “Then who exactly are you?”

He whispered the question with caution, getting a grip as his spiraling nerves.

 “I am The Chief of these lovely people, and The Lord of those unlovely ones.”

Namjoon smiled, tying the ends of the cloth carefully and moving to the other hand. Hoseok felt like he was supposed to be more impressed, he wanted to but the confusion was taking control. He wouldn’t be married off to someone unimportant for some unimportant reason but he didn’t feel like it right now. He felt like this marriage was completely useless.

"Then why aren't you all living together like this?"

He felt himself getting worked up, the calm leaving his spine as he straightened his back and tensed. He had so many more questions that he wanted to spit out but they were all rushed out, getting stuck and closing his tongue momentarily.

“I didn't gather anyone with me. They wanted to be here, to live like this. I can’t force anyone to follow a certain lifestyle. Where is the beauty in that?”

The beauty?

What beauty?

Where is the beauty in people getting killed?

His face must have given away the jumbled mess and horror inside his head. Namjoon sighed patiently and caressed his knuckles.

“I know you’re confused. It’s okay. You probably weren’t raised to get a clear sense of equality and free will. Am I right?”

That hit a certain unguarded spot in his heart which he wanted to ignore as much as he could. He should have gotten angry. Getting railed up. Be offended. He opened his mouth to defend his royal pride but his throat was all closed up. The painful truth dampened his eyelashes. Namjoon’s eyes softened and he squeezed his fingers in sympathy.

“Sorry dear. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Hoseok huffed. Well he did upset him. But he could just let it slide because he was getting that butterfly tickling again by being addressed so nicely. Did Namjoon do this purposefully or it just slipped out in the heat of the moment?

“So what do you wanna do today?”

Namjoon tried to lighten the mood by changing the question.

 “I'm not sure...”

“Do you wanna go out or stay home?”

Hoseok shuddered at the mention of outside. One day in having his own plans and he’d screwed up so badly. He really didn’t know what to do and low-key was hoping they go back to the scheduled crazy plans just so he knew he was safe.

 “I don't wanna go out.”

He mumbled despondently. 

 “Okay. We'll stay home.”

“You don’t have to stay...”

His weak protest died out completely when Namjoon looked at him pointedly, pursing his lips in a knowing smile.

“Oh? I think otherwise.”

 “I mean...you don’t have to stay because of me.”

“I want to. Unless you want me to go. And I'll go.”

Hoseok wanted to sigh his life out and melt. The tickling was gone but now he felt like he was trapped inside a small box and at the same time thrown over to the endless expanse of universe. His face felt too hot and he blamed it on the fire. But his heart was also trembling and he couldn’t blame that on the fire. What the hell was wrong with him?

He shot up to his feet and straightened his back. He held his head high and tried to look at anywhere but Namjoon.

 “I changed my mind. I wanna go out. “

He demanded with his Prince voice. Well, his shy and flustered Prince voice that didn’t sound like a prince’s voice at all but he did try.

And Namjoon found it too cute to be good for him. He was in trouble. A very serious trouble.

Stepping outside was a little stressful. Hoseok was apprehensive to accidentally face someone. He panicked even more when he remembered how he went and woke Jimin up to help him for making breakfast and was not thinking about this at all, and now he wasn’t sure how many people had seen him.

“You are okay.”

Namjoon reassured him as he slipped the fingerless gloves on his each hand while Hoseok looked above his shoulder for a passing person.  For good measure, he kept pulling at the huge hood of his short cloak over his head and wasn’t sure what was the exact point of going out while he wasn’t enjoying it.

They saw no body though and soon he started to relax and enjoy his safe walk. He skipped, looking up at the leaves flying with the wind, looking back once in a while to make sure Namjoon was still there.

Namjoon was there, following behind and getting more and more in to the trouble every time Hoseok turned to check for his presence and his face showed peacefulness rather than quivering discomfort from Namjoon just being there.

He didn’t know how he gained this but he wanted to keep the things like this. he couldn’t take another second of a frightened, unsettled Hoseok.

He came running to Namjoon some time, eyes wide and it sent Namjoon’s alarms go off, blood running cold.

 “What's wrong?”

He asked ready to tear apart some limbs with his bare hands but Hoseok just pulled him by the sleeve toward a direction. The stopped under a tree and as much as Namjoon looked around, puzzled, he saw literally no threat. Hoseok pulled at his sleeve again, pointing up.

 “That. What's that?”

Namjoon, still confused looked up and then saw a little bird in black and white with a tuft of red feathers on its head, perching on the tree and pecking the bark persistently.

“It's a woodpecker.”

He said lamely, not sure how to react to a woodpecker.

“What's it doing?”

Hoseok demanded, watching the bird attentively.

“Finding food?” Namjoon softly explained. “The small worms and insects in the trunk. Or making a nest. Or just simply communicating with its fellow woodpeckers with the drums.”

“Wow!”

Hoseok pulled back the hood that disturbed his sight, eyes sparkling with joyous delight. He clasped his hands in front of him, expression amused.

“It's so tiny.”

And Namjoon was truly broken.

He grabbed Hoseok’s hands and steered his attention to himself.

“Hoseok-ah.”

Hoseok turned to him, glancing at their hands questioningly, the hood slipped down on his forehead again and Namjoon chuckled, fixing it to sit neatly on his head.

 “I'm sorry about that night.”

He finally admitted, feeling the weight of the words pulling down on his shoulders.

“I'm sorry I scared you. I was just so worried. Jimin said you went for a walk and didn't show up the whole day. He couldn't find you and we just...”

He sighed, not finding his excuses valid enough.

“We just jumped in to conclusion. I was so worried I couldn't think straight. I thought I'd lost you.” His voice went soft.  “That sounds so ridiculous because you must be hating me for everything and, you have every right to. This whole...situation...gives you every right to hate me but...”

He took a deep breath, gaining more confident to tell his heart.

“It just pissed me off. Your father, his proposition, his ultimate solution for a probably temporary truce...pissed me off. I almost rejected him. But then...I thought that you didn't deserve it. I, selfishly, thought that I didn't want you to stay in that palace another day. Because if not me, someone else would have you and I again-stress on selfishly-couldn't bear that thought. So...I accepted and hated myself for that for days after that.

“I didn't know you, you obviously hadn't consented to this and I knew you would be loathing me for the rest of your life but when I saw you on our wedding day, I told myself that it was the best decision I've ever made in my life. Because they absolutely don't deserve you.

“I hate that I bounded you to this marriage against your will. It can't be broken and I shamelessly am happy about it because I can't stand anyone else having you but...I want you to know that if you want your old life back, I am no one to stop you. I'll even escort you to palace myself. I just want you to be...free.”

He finished the speech that he’d rehearsed over and over and sighed, breathless and somehow, light. Nervously he waited for Hoseok to take his words in and braced himself for the reply.

“Do you mean it? Letting me go?”

Namjoon nodded, not trusting his voice to not break at this point. Hoseok hummed, glancing at the tree above them. The woodpecker had gone quiet, probably disturbed by them and had flied to another tree.

And then Hoseok stood on his tiptoes and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

It left him even more baffled than before, jaw falling and his brain stopped working completely. Hoseok shrugged.

“But I don’t wanna go back.”

Huh?

Were his ears working right? This was not what he had prepared himself for.

“Are you sure?”

Hoseok’s wouldn’t want to live here forever. He would get tired eventually and miss his old life and would be blaming Namjoon for his misery.

“They won’t like it any way.”

He said casually, like he wasn’t talking about the palace rejecting him for not being able to put a life together for not even a month. Namjoon huffed, the reasons that the palace was getting on his nerves were endless. He didn’t mind breaking the deal and start another conflict because of Hoseok.

Hoseok took a deep breath, shuffling on his feet.

“You said we could talk. About…um…the things that I don’t wanna do.”

“Yeah?”

“Will you really listen? If I talk?”

Hoseok asked quietly, making himself look smaller in insecurity. Namjoon pulled him closer gently by the waist, brushing a thumb over his cheek. Fighting the urge to kiss him.

“I course I will. You can tell me anything.”

Hoseok nodded, getting flustered by the closeness of their faces. He giggled when Namjoon nuzzled his nose lovingly, getting even more shy and hiding his face in his hands.

Namjoon laughed, enamored. Feeling his heart stretching over another person and get excited that Hoseok wouldn’t be leaving him. He would stay. And Namjoon couldn’t wait for the days ahead to come and bless him with the beautiful presence of this person who now had the prettiest smile on his face.

He would spend his days reassuring Hoseok he was heard, loved and cared about. Would teach him how things worked in the forest and make sure everybody knew who he was so there wasn’t a single soul daring to look at him the wrong way.

“I don’t hate you by the way.”

Hoseok squealed, his red face was visible even from under his hands.

“Just so you know.”

He ran off with another flustered squeal, leaving Namjoon with a hand over his heart and another wiping his tears, smiling like an idiot.

He indeed had made the right choice. Hoseok was the best choice he’d ever been capable of making.