Chapter Text
“It’s only a year,” Yunho keeps saying it, like it’ll help Hongjoong feel less badly about this whole situation. His guard will, at the very least, be allowed to stay in the closest town over from his soon-to-be kingdom’s main castle, and Hongjoong knows Yunho’s looking forward to the break, the opportunity to travel and experience new things, the option to wake up whenever he wishes. As Hongjoong is dressed in his voyage livery, Yunho’s hands tying the laces quickly and with an ease Hongjoong has never mastered himself, he thinks he’s going to miss this. “And I’ll be able to visit you once every few weeks.” A pause as Yunho ties the last knot around Hongjoong’s calf. “I think this will do you some good, sire. You’ll be able to integrate fully, and once your wedding and coronation come around you’ll already be ready.”
“So you don’t think I’m ready now?” Hongjoong has to ask, only to cause trouble and not because he truly believes Yunho to be implying something like that. True to form, Yunho doesn’t dignify his petty jabs with a reply, just steps back from Hongjoong to regard his work dressing his prince.
“You’ve gotten through many years already, sire,” Yunho tells him, and Hongjoong rolls his eyes. “Some of them even more boring than you anticipate this one being. You will weather it with grace, as you do everything, and your betrothed’s kingdom will be far more yours than if you were to take the throne now.”
“You, unfortunately, always have the right thing to say,” he says, sighing, and when he moves past his personal guard, Yunho falls into step behind him, following him out the door of his chambers for the last time in what very well might be years. In the hallways, the servants and other attendants are rushing about, most close enough to breaking into a run that Hongjoong’s battle-honed instincts rise to the surface for a moment before he’s able to quell them. Starting down the hall, he speaks over his shoulder with a tone that belies both nonchalance and urgency. “Are we late?”
“You are not, sire,” Yunho says, sounding distracted, and when they get to the staircase, Hongjoong looks over his shoulder to his guard. Straightening under the gaze of his prince, Yunho continues listening to the hushed news from the servant girl he’d caught to question about the commotion. Once she’s dismissed, Yunho turns to Hongjoong once more, responding to his raised eyebrow with a quick bow before they begin their descent down the stairs. “The King has, apparently, arrived at the border. He intends to meet you there and make the rest of the journey back together.”
Startled, Hongjoong nearly stops entirely, despite only being halfway down the steps. It would be unbecoming, however, and so he continues, the curve of the staircase bringing him into view of his family and the rest of their personal guard, there to see him off.
“Mother,” Hongjoong smiles when he sees her, looking elegant and bright in her red garments, and she smiles back at him, extending her hand for him to take when he reaches the bottom of the stairs. He kisses the back of her hand as is customary, and then turns to the King and crown prince, dropping to one knee in a low bow. “Father, brother. My thanks for seeing me off to my next assignment.”
His brother laughs, and their father makes a gruff noise, both of them sharing a look with each other as Hongjoong rises to his feet once more.
“This is a marriage, not another war,” the King says, and Hongjoong doesn’t say what he wishes he could, doesn’t tell him that sending him away for the rest of his life is arguably worse than going off to fight. “You’ll see, it will go well. Their kingdom is… quaint. You will learn much, and then you will be wed, and then you will lead.”
“Yes, your highness,” Hongjoong bows his head, swallowing the bile. He wants to ask if his family will come to the wedding, but does not wish for the disappointment to set in so early, so he lets it go. “I have heard news that the King is waiting for me at the border. Is this the word we’ve received?”
“It is,” his brother speaks, now, as it is his men who defend their borders. “He has set up camp nearby to the road that you will take, but has said he does not need you to make haste.”
“Bastard,” their father curses under his breath. “He’s only doing it to make us look bad. Sending our prince off now makes him look late, when really it’s his own fault.”
Hongjoong watches his father and brother share another look, and wishes he was allowed in on these discussions, no matter how small or petty they may be. He loves his family, knows he is loved by them, but his father and brother have always connected so much easier, much deeper than Hongjoong has ever been able to.
“I will see to it the messengers we send back make note of this, your highness,” is the solution Hongjoong gives, and even then, it takes them a moment to look back at him. There is approval in his father’s eyes, however, and this makes Hongjoong’s chest puff with pride. “Now, I should be going. The kingdom will not wait forever, will it?”
His mother has tears in her eyes when she smiles at him, and Hongjoong bows again to his father and brother, rising to hug his mother.
“Be safe, and take care of yourself,” she says, petting a hand down the back of his head, and Hongjoong hums in assent, committing the smell of her perfume to memory.
“I will,” he says, and then pulls back to address the three of them. “The next you’ll see me, it will be my wedding day, and the day after, I will be crowned.” Taking in a heavy breath, he nods, as if needing to convince himself as well. “I will make you proud.”
**
The road to the border is long and uneventful. Despite his efforts, Hongjoong is unable to keep himself focused on anything for very long. He settles on reciting to himself his future kingdom’s code of ethics, their main historical events in chronological order, the most significant etiquette rules he’d learnt on his short diplomatic visits. It keeps him relatively busy, but his mind still manages to wander, mainly to the swath of guards flanking him from behind, mirrored by those in front of him. He wonders, vaguely, if any of them have heard the whispers about his preferences, if they’re keeping more distance between his horse and their own mounts because of it.
“Yunho,” he calls, and his personal guard rides up to match their horses’ gaits. “Let’s stop in the next village. The men need a break, and we’ll make better time tomorrow if everyone has eaten and drank well tonight.”
It makes Yunho blink, but he’s well trained, and so it is the only indicator of his surprise. “Of course, sire,” he says, not commenting on anything further, and Hongjoong takes it in stride. “I will let them know that we’ll be settling shortly, and that tomorrow we’ll be expected to be up and out early. Is that correct?”
It’s not quite the energy Hongjoong had wanted to encourage in the men, but it’s the truth of the matter, so he purses his lips and nods. Yunho bows his head before pulling on the reins, turning his mount towards the collection of guards in front of Hongjoong, transmitting the message to them before rounding back and telling the ones behind Hongjoong as well. The message seems well received, and Yunho falls into step with his horse just behind Hongjoong’s, slightly to his left.
Hongjoong is still distracted, though. Their trip is meant to last two days, and he knows he’s risking their meeting time with the King that is already waiting for them by stopping in a different town than his party had planned on. It does, however, mean that the people in this town might not have heard the rumours about Hongjoong, might have less time to spread them if some are aware. A small solace, but one Hongjoong will take nonetheless, hoping to keep himself above the sea of murmured truths he’s going to spend his entire life pretending aren’t based in verity.
The sun hasn’t even set by the time they enter the town, and Hongjoong lets Yunho guide them to an inn he knows from previous scouting trips he’d taken to prepare for this exact journey. The men stable their mounts in the back of the inn, and Hongjoong joins them to do so as well, not wanting to seem above something so simple. He wants to prove himself to these people despite the knowledge that they won’t be his people in a year’s time.
“Your highness, allow me to secure you a room first,” Yunho says, placing one hand on Hongjoong’s arm just as they are about to go into the tavern section of the inn. Hongjoong crinkles his nose at the idea, and Yunho’s hand slips from his shoulder.
“I will room with the men,” he says, lifting his chin to meet Yunho’s eyes. He’s made to watch how Yunho’s expression shifts out of its professional neutrality for a tiny moment, before he pulls it back. Hongjoong addresses it himself, doesn’t want to make Yunho more uncomfortable than he already appears to be, no matter how well he hides it. “Is there an issue?”
A moment, and then Yunho bows his head. “Permission to speak freely?” he asks, and Hongjoong allows it with a nod of his own head. “I believe the men would allow themselves to be more at ease if you were to take your own quarters, sire.”
Silence. Yunho must know what Hongjoong is thinking, since he seems to anticipate Hongjoong’s every step, his every thought actioned before Hongjoong is even able to summon how to articulate it. It’s not that his personal guard has ever passed anything akin to judgment, no, but the reality is that Hongjoong has harboured a sick fascination with his guard ever since he came to this realization of his proclivities. He is almost certain Yunho knows, never having let on in a way that could allude to knowledge of such a suspicion, but Yunho reading his mind once again and knowing that Hongjoong is concerned about this matter is confirmation enough that Yunho, and likely the other guards as well, know.
“I see,” Hongjoong says, and the words come from a dry mouth. He wets his lips, nodding once, as if it will dispel any worry or upset. “Then yes, go and secure me a room. I will take my dinner there, I believe the sun has done my head in slightly.”
“Yes, sire,” Yunho bows at the waist, and then slips into the tavern, leaving Hongjoong outside in the still bright light of the early summer evening.
The men file past him, all of them bowing and wishing him a good evening, thanking him for the lodging and meal even before they’ve eaten. It feels good to know he is, at the very least, making them happy in this way, that they are not uncomfortable with the very idea of being on a journey such as this with a man such as him, even if he is their prince.
The thoughts are still turning round and round in his head when Yunho comes back out from the inn, a thick brass key in his hand. He hands it off to Hongjoong wordlessly, then shows that he himself as one as well, in the offchance Hongjoong needs to be accessed in the night for his own safety.
“You are a formidable guard,” Hongjoong says, wrapping the key in his hand. It’s still warm from the heat of Yunho’s body heat, but Hongjoong refuses to let himself dwell. “Take care of the men tonight, and prepare to depart before sunrise tomorrow.” Yunho nods, bowing his head for a moment, and Hongjoong pulls his gaze back to the dwindling light in the sky. “Someone will need to go ahead to pass the message of my arrival, and prepare the handoff of my supplies. See to it our fastest rider is on horseback by the time the sun crosses the horizon.”
“It will be done, your highness,” Yunho says, bowing at the waist, one hand on the hilt of his sword. When he rights himself, Hongjoong is still looking out at the sky, watching as the colours melt into softer versions of themselves, dipping low over the fields until they disappear. He takes his leave silently, and Hongjoong is alone.
There is an elastic amount of time between a conversation such as the one he's had and the subsequent recovery from it, but Hongjoong doesn’t have that luxury. He cannot dwell on the implications of everything said and not said — he has a duty, to his kingdom, to his family, to his future kingdom, to his fiancé.
Taking in a breath, Hongjoong sets aside everything that isn’t duty. He knows this was always his destiny, but having to truly accept it is different from the distant inevitability he’s hidden behind since he was a child. It is taking him time, will take even more of it before he is devoid of anything besides what has been chosen for him.
Closing his eyes against the sunset, he breathes out, letting go of as much tension he can in the moments before he must move once again. His feet bring him around to the back of the inn, climb the stairs for him, and unlock the door to his room for the night. In it, Yunho has already placed his bags, both of them sat on the trunk at the end of the bed, and the care in the simple gesture makes Hongjoong feel like, perhaps, he might never be able to truly let go of what he wants for his life to devote himself fully to his duty.
The door locks with the same key, and Hongjoong sinks into the mattress when he sits on the side of the bed without having taken off his riding gear. Above him, the ceiling is littered with constellations of knots and curves in the wood, and he focuses on tracing the lines with his eyes so he doesn’t lose his grip on his hard earned control.
**
The morning comes early, as Hongjoong had promised the men accompanying him, and he greets it with a resolve no longer foreign to him. He must let go of his wants to put the needs of his family first, and this sacrifice should not hurt. It is correct, right for him to release the burden of his desires to ensure the furthering of the kingdom’s power.
By the time he makes it to where the horses had been stabled for the night, only Yunho is there to greet him.
“Sire,” he bows, and Hongjoong nods at him, placing a foot in his stirrup and swinging onto his pretty brown mare. The saddle and reins are immaculately polished, smooth under his hands, and he leans forward to run a hand down his mount’s thick neck. “The men will be here shortly, they are dining before the day’s ride.”
“Understood,” Hongjoong says with another nod at his personal guard, and Yunho stares just a little too long at Hongjoong’s face before bowing his head. “You and I will ride ahead. The men are late, and will catch up accordingly.”
That seems to give Yunho pause, and he opens his mouth to argue, silenced by the steady gaze Hongjoong settles on him. “Yes, your highness,” he says, acquiescing without further comment, and swings up onto his own horse.
They take off at a good pace, and by mid-morning, the men have caught up to them. Hongjoong hears their apologies, dismissing them all with a frigidness he knows must be his new constant if he is to make his family proud.
They are set to arrive at the border by early afternoon, where they will rendezvous with the already present king, and will spend one more night on the road before reaching the palace. The accompanying troupe will leave them at the border, and Yunho will fall away the next morning, left to his devices in the village that is to be his new home for the year Hongjoong is to be under the royal court's tutelage.
Holding his head high is all Hongjoong has, now, his pride the one thing keeping him above water, and he no longer converses with Yunho or the men, hardly looking at them as they continue their ride north.
Hongjoong has studied the landscape for a long while, both of his own kingdom and what is known of the kingdom that is to become his once he is married, and he knows that, as they climb the rocky edge of a steep hill, the king’s encampment will come into view once they crest the peak.
“Heads up,” he commands, hearing the order filter back through the group, and the men listen to him, if the way their horses huff at the adjustment is any indication.
“Once we are over the peak, we will be in view of the king,” he calls. He’s not sure why he feels the need to specify why he gave the order, but doubles down regardless. “Keep yourselves in check, and follow my descent. Do not let your mounts stray from your control.”
“Yes, sire,” the men call back, and Hongjoong nods once. He knows the terrain of the other side of the mountain is dotted with patches of loose stone that is easy for horses or humans to slip on, and wants to make sure his men are safe while also showing he knows how to ride, how to anticipate danger and react accordingly. It’s a strange, vulnerable position, to be in view of the welcoming party for something as potentially perilous as a mounted descent, but this is the swiftest route from the palace to the border, and so Hongjoong had set the rendezvous knowing this last leg would be a test in itself.
It is also, however, carefully planned, in that the sun will be just past its highest point of the day, and will frame him and his men beautifully as they come over the mountaintop. Knowing this, and comforted in the fact that he will carry with him the momentous appearance of a powerful figure, he pushes his horse the last few dozen meters up the embankment.
When he finally comes over the edge of the mountaintop, he’s greeted with the other side of the mountain, its steep rock face tapering into lush, long grass as soon as the land becomes that of his future kingdom’s.
He pauses at the top of the mountain for a moment, letting the cool breeze waft over him and ruffle his hair, and his horse tosses her head, pawing at the ground, eager to continue moving. It jostles him slightly in his saddle, but nothing more than a sway affects him as he gazes down at the welcome party, letting his men all come to a stop at the peak of the mountain.
From the base of the mountain, a cry rings out, seemingly lead by the king, who is only differentiated from his accompanying men by the quality and colours of his garments. He appears to be shielding his eyes from the sun and smiling, and Hongjoong feels an odd twist in his stomach as he realizes that this really is it. There is absolutely no turning back now.
“Long live the prince!” the men in the welcoming party are crying out, repeated three times before they fall quiet again, and Hongjoong is startled by the sentiment. Such outward yells of support are frowned upon in his father’s kingdom, but Hongjoong’s mount paws at the ground again, stepping forward a small amount to show she still wishes to continue on.
“Fine, pretty filly,” he pets a hand over his mount’s neck, brushing her mane from her sticky skin. He urges her to begin walking again with a gentle heel to her flank, and tugs on the reins to guide her in the direction they need to take to ensure their safe descent. He keeps himself calm, and by extension, his mount is as well, trusting him not to put her in danger and stepping with enough confidence to instill it in the horses behind them.
Since he first began training with her, Hongjoong has been proud of having her as his partner, had grown to love riding thanks to her steady gait and strong back. It is as if she knows they are being watched as well, and Hongjoong is grateful to her for listening to him even though she is strong-willed and stubborn when she wants to be.
Once they are on even ground again without even one slip of a hoof, Hongjoong lets go of some of the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders. He keeps his mount moving forward, and they cross over the border between kingdoms between one step and the next.
“Your highness,” the welcome party all drop to one knee as Hongjoong guides his horse to a stop perpendicular to the path that leads deeper into his new kingdom. The King is the only one who does not kneel, but he bows his head, and Hongjoong remembers his father’s words about how this king has been set on making all other royal families look selfish and cruel next to him and his family. ‘They play at being good, as if that is what keeps a kingdom from ruin,’ he’d say, shaking his head with disdain, and Hongjoong’s elder brother had scoffed at the very concept. ‘He is weak-willed and floundering for power after having surrendered it even before his ascension. It is good that you will go there and help the people realize how a true ruler operates.’
Now, watching the King lift his head from the bow and gaze up at Hongjoong with a smile that seems genuine, Hongjoong finds it difficult to unearth the insincerity he has heard so much about. Instead of dwelling, he swings his leg over his mount, dropping lightly to the ground and handing the reins off to Yunho, who is already one step behind him to his left.
“Your majesty,” he bows, sweeping his short cloak over his chest as he bends. The King steps forward, and Hongjoong lifts his head when his booted feet come into view. He is handsome, clean-shaven and thick-browed, and he surpasses Hongjoong in height by a few inches that lend him a regality that Hongjoong wishes he possessed. “It is an honour to be met by yourself and your party. I hope you did not feel obligated to do so, however. My guard would have been more than happy to accompany me over the remainder of the journey.”
The King, still smiling, simply shakes his head once. “It is an honour to finally meet the other half of the future of our kingdom,” he says, and then he steps to the side, sweeping his arm out to invite Hongjoong to walk with him. “I wish to know you as well as I know myself, Prince Hongjoong. The day’s journey will be the beginning of this, a beginning I am eager to see through thoroughly and personally.”
It’s a surprise — Hongjoong doesn’t catch a trace of mockery as he falls into step beside the King, as if a ruler could truly wish to spend time with his future son-in-law. Despite the discomfort Hongjoong feels at the prospect of being known ‘thoroughly and personally’, he knows it is only for this time, until he is handed off to the court of royal advisors, who will be his tutors in all that he could need to know and understand to secure the future of the kingdom.
“I give you thanks, and offer you praise,” he says, picking his words carefully as he comes to a stop as the King does. “Your men are well trained, and your encampment appears robust. It will be a privilege to have them serve under me.”
The King pauses, blinking at Hongjoong as his eyes trace over his face. Hongjoong feels exposed, like he’s already started the process of being known, and so he averts his gaze to look back at Yunho, who is conversing quietly with the man who must be the King’s personal guard, and his horse, who is grazing happily.
“I was advised I would be allowed one guard during my year’s tenure,” he says, changing the subject. He gestures to Yunho, who catches the movement and raises his eyes to his prince, monitoring that everything remains fine. “May I inquire as to the inn and room he will be staying in during the next twelve months?”
“He will be housed in our grand counselor’s home, which is one town over from the palace and its surroundings,” the King says. The news surprises Hongjoong, who looks back up at him with his eyebrows raised. “He has a son about the same age, also a soldier with a significant position, and your guard will learn the ways of the kingdom with him, as you will be doing.” He smiles again, and his teeth are all in a perfect line behind a mouth soft from years of happiness. “He has the choice to remain at your side once the year is up, and will be welcomed into the royal guard at the palace if he so wishes.”
“I… was not aware of this,” Hongjoong admits, upset at having already been caught in something he doesn’t know. The King tilts his head at him, and then reaches an arm out to rest his hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder.
“We wish for your smooth and joyous integration, prince,” he says, and there’s a raw honesty in the words and his tone that Hongjoong is entirely unused to in speaking to any level of nobility. “I hope you will approach this transition with openness and a willingness to understand, as we will extend to you as well. It is not easy, to be uprooted from your family and loved ones, I understand this. You will be well cared for as a member of our family.”
Something about it makes a lump form in Hongjoong’s throat. He turns his head away from the King when he feels himself becoming unable to hold his emotions in check, and begins to walk towards Yunho and his mount.
“I give you thanks, your majesty,” he says, only two steps away from the King, and he knows it is wrong to turn his back on the leader of the nation, but he cannot let him see how weak and frightened he is. Not like this, not yet. Not ever. “I will do my utmost to earn my place among your people.”
“You do not have to earn a place among our family,” the King answers, and Hongjoong closes his eyes, releases a breath and does not turn around. “You are accepted already. You have only to show us you are dedicated to peace and prosperity, and you will always have a place with us.”
Again, Hongjoong swallows thickly, and then he turns to the King once again, bowing at the waist to hide his face. He turns again, facing his men and Yunho, sweet Yunho who reaches out to touch his fingers to his prince’s elbow when he sees the redness on his neck, the distress in his eyes.
“All is well,” he says, interrupting Yunho before he has a chance to speak. He clears his throat quietly, before raising his voice so both parties can hear him. “We will depart shortly. Kindly ascertain the transfer of my items, and take the time to water your mounts before you head back.”
“Yes, sire,” his men say in unison, and Hongjoong nods once, taking the reins of his horse from Yunho.
“You will ride with the King’s men,” he instructs his personal guard, who bows his head to show his obeisance. “We will discuss your arrangements in the evening. I will take my meal in my room, and you will accompany me there so you know what your next year is to look like.”
“It will be a pleasure, sire,” Yunho smiles at him, small and quick, and then Hongjoong is swinging up onto his horse.
“My King,” Hongjoong calls, and sets his mount into motion so they move towards him. “Our men will secure the bags and supplies. Would you do me the honour of beginning our journey?”
The King looks up from his conversation with the soldier Yunho had been speaking with, and he has to squint against the sun for a moment before he shakes his head.
“I wish to stay with our parties until the handoff is complete,” he says, looking apologetic for some reason. “But you may go on ahead. I will ride forth to meet you once we are done here.” He smiles up at Hongjoong. “I am certain you are tired, prince. Please, go ahead. I will not be far behind.”
Swallowing heavily, Hongjoong nods back, and then he’s urging his mount forward once more. She breaks into a canter as she takes Hongjoong away from the mess he’s leaving behind, hoping to gain enough distance between the party and himself that he no longer has to worry about putting up a front for them. He almost wishes that the King had sent him off with a dismissive wave — this gentleness and seemingly genuine care makes Hongjoong’s skin prickle, and he hates how his stomach twists into knots at the earnest tone of his voice.
Leaning over his horse, he buries his head in her mane for a moment, hands splayed over her neck to keep himself balanced. She’s the only constant he can cling to, with even Yunho slipping away from his side so soon, and as he pushes her into a gallop, he lets the lump in his throat rise to the back of his mouth, lets the tears spring to his eyes, lets them drip down his cheeks and dry in the wind. He is lost, and no matter how hard he is determined to try at this new life, he knows he will never, could never, truly be what this, or any, kingdom could need.