Chapter Text
⧖⧗Circa Opal⧗⧖
The Darlaean uniform weighs heavily on your body. You reason it’ll take time to grow accustomed to the tight and hueless fabric paired with the stiff leather boots. The silver and purple stitchings that run up your limbs are an exception, but they’re nothing like the scarlet red and vivid gold of the Solarian uniform.
Jungkook promptly picks you up from your door at 6 o’clock, and the two of you begin to venture to the training grounds. The morning greets you with cool mist and the sweet smell of grass. The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon, ready to make its debut and splash the sky with color. It’s still chilly from the night—your cold breaths materialize in the air.
The cadets are already lined up in perfect formation, ready to take orders. They all salute in the presence of you and Jungkook. You fidget with your trinket, always having felt uncomfortable with formal military norms. Jungkook, on the other hand, is pleased. He shouts instructions to them, their morning drills, and gestures to them to begin. As the sun continues its ascent, the soldiers dance across the training ground, busy with strenuous exercise, their exertion keeping them warm despite the biting air. You and Jungkook walk around and survey the soldiers, encouraging them when their fatigue hampers their pace. By the time the sun climbs to its peak in the sky, the cadets are finished with their drills. Jungkook orders them to take their lunch break. The two of you have spoken minimally this morning, and you believe it has everything to do with how your conversation ended last night. You’re unsure now if Jungkook trusts you anymore. At what point will he fall completely out of love with you? Will he protect you then?
“—eat?”
You blink. “Oh, I’m sorry… I missed what you said,” you admit to Jungkook, but he probably knew that you were distracted anyway.
“I asked if you wanted a bite to eat,” he says. “Best to eat now when you have the time. I’ll go get us some—”
“SIR!”
Your and Jungkook’s heads simultaneously whip around to the sight of Lieutenant Kim Seokjin running in the distance. He’s panting, frantically waving an ivory envelope in his hand. Seokjin skids to a stop in front of you and Jungkook, presenting his urgent delivery. It’s adorned with a delicate, scarlet seal. You immediately recognize it as the one Solarian officers use.
“Sir,” Seokijin says, gasping for air. “I took the first carriage to the 12th city when I received this. A phoenix delivered it overnight.”
Without a change in expression, Jungkook takes the envelope, turning it over and inspecting it with scrutiny. “Ah, from the Solarian General. Addressed to the Darlaean General.”
Your heart shatters into a million pieces. Yoongi? Your Yoongi? Acquiring the assistance of a phoenix? No, it must be a fire bird—a sol. Your mind begins to race.
“What a surprise,” Jungkook says, dryly. “It’s too early for him to bring up talks for a winter truce. Perhaps he is finally coming around. He must know that his helluvian nation can never win this war.”
Jungkook breaks the wax seal and slips out a letter. You can recognize Yoongi’s handwriting through the thin material where the ink had bled through. The letter is short—only several sentences long. But it’s provocative enough for Jungkook’s expression to morph into anger. “How dare he!” he yells, his fist immediately crumpling up the paper.
Your stomach sinks.
“What did it say, sir?” Seokjin asks, seemingly startled at one of Jungkook’s rare outbursts. Even he’s aware that it takes a lot for Jungkook to express his emotions.
“He wants to bargain war prisoners.”
Seokjin’s brows furrow. “Isn’t that… in our favor, sir?”
“Y/N’s on the list.”
Your jaw falls open. “Me?” you gasp in disbelief.
“Temporary Lieutenant General Kwang???” Seokjin mirrors your disbelief. “What—”
“Absolutely not!” Jungkook scoffs. “Who the fuck does he think he is?”
All you can think about is that Yoongi thinks you’re a war prisoner. Does he think you’re stuck in Darlae against your will? Does he not suspect you to be Darlaean at all? He wrote a letter to get you back. He doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t think you betrayed him at all! Relief floods into your system, breathing life into every muscle in your body, until you realize Yoongi might be lying. He has to know you’re not a prisoner. There were too many obvious clues pointing to your true identity. So is he sending this letter because he doesn’t care that you’re a betrayer? Is he sending you a message? Does he know you used to be the Darlaean General? No, he must have taken a leap of faith—that whoever is the General would relay the message to you. It worked, you’ll give him that.
“Seokjin,” Jungkook says sharply, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Write a letter to the Solarian General for me. Tell this treehugger that we will not partake in any exchange of war prisoners. Send it off using that phoenix of his. Those fucking helluvians! Stealing our animals, too.”
You bite your tongue to keep yourself from rattling off that there is a difference between a phoenix and a fire bird. But it’s not enough to keep you from asking, “Wasn’t the letter addressed to you, Jungkook? Maybe you should write it. General to General.”
“No,” he replies curtly. “It’d only be a waste of time.”
Your eyes close momentarily to help compose yourself. It’s okay, you repeat in your mind. Yoongi wants you back—even after indubitably knowing you’re Darlaean. Perhaps this is his method of contacting you, testing the waters to see if you’ll respond. Your heart pulls its shattered pieces back together.
Giddiness settles in.
He’s looking for you. He wants to communicate with you. It’s like the weight of a thousand fire sols has been lifted from your shoulders. Now all you have to do is figure out how to contact him back.
⨰⨰⨰
The answer comes after a long day of following Jungkook around to meetings and cadet surveillance. You collapse on your bed, exhausted, not even bothering to get out of your uniform. Enyx lands on your pillow, cocking his head.
“I’m okay,” you tell him. “I have a lot to think about… just didn’t get the time to do it all day.”
Enyx ruffles his feathers.
“Well, for starters, I think… someone I care about from um, far away, tried to contact me.”
Enyx lets out a trill.
“Yes, I know! I couldn’t believe it either, Enyx, and I want to tell him that I’m alive and I’m well and I don’t want him to worry, but I…”
The phoenix hops over to you, clearly invested in your troubles. ‘But what?’ he seems to say.
“But I… it’s complicated. I don’t know where he is. No, that’s not true. I do know where he is, but I don’t know how I’d ever write him back. I have no means to… I just…” Your heart feels heavy. “I just want to tell him I’m okay.”
Enyx nudges you. ‘Perhaps I may be of assistance.’
“You?” you say, smiling sadly. “I appreciate the offer, Enyx, but he isn’t exactly from Darlae.”
Enyx cocks his head. ‘An even more interesting development!’ he concludes.
“So, unless you magically know the way to the nation we’re at war with, it’s just not possible,” you sigh, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands. “Thanks, though… For the offer.”
There’s a flutter of wings, then you feel Enyx’s claws grip around your wrist. He trills loudly, insistently. Your hands come off your eyes. “How?”
Enyx chortles.
“Okay, fine, you don’t have to tell me. But you’re serious? You can go there? I mean, isn’t it dangerous…? You’re not exactly um… Well, to put it lightly… No, there’s no way to put this lightly. You’re a delicacy around here.” If Enyx could roll his eyes, you imagine he would’ve right then and there. “I’m sorry! Don’t risk your life over this. Remember? I saved you from the royal butcher years ago. What if I’m unable to do it this time?”
Enyx ruffles his feathers in annoyance. ‘Do you desire my assistance or not?’
“I do, I do! I’m just… I trust you. I trust you! Maybe I’m also nervous, deep down inside. This man… Yoongi… I mean, I’ve mentioned him to you before. I’m assuming he wants to communicate with me, but there’s also a small chance that I’m wrong, you know? That he really thinks I’m a war prisoner, and he doesn’t know that I’ve betrayed him and Solaria.”
‘Ah,’ Enyx seems to say. ‘But it doesn’t hurt to try, child. I have friends in that nation. I’ll visit them on the way. And I won’t be eaten. I promise.’
You don’t need any more urging. Quickly, you rip out a page in a random notebook and scrawl, I’m fine. Please don’t worry. Things are complicated and I don’t know how much I’m allowed to say. Your hand hovers over the paper, quill pen in hand. Do you write more? Can you even say more? An ‘I miss you’ feels incriminating—if the message is intercepted, they’ll have evidence of your treason. You set the quill pen down. You’ll keep it short and simple.
Enyx nuzzles you as you tie the rolled-up message to his leg. ‘I’ll see to it that it’s delivered,’ his bright eyes tell you.
“Thank you,” you say. “Truly.”
You watch the phoenix fly off into a red sunset, blending in with the blazing sky, and for the first time since you’ve come back home, you feel hope.
⨰⨰⨰
There’s a knock on the door at 8 o’clock as promised. Punctual as always. You’ve washed and changed, and Jooeun and her team had already set up dinner in your chambers a few minutes prior.
“Come in,” you tell Jungkook.
He emerges from behind your door, dressed fashionably, with his sword attached to his belt as usual. The blue birthstone glints in the warm candlelight. “Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me tonight.” He glances at your pale green silk gown. “Elegant as always.”
You nod, sitting in the seat that Jungkook pulls out for you. “Thank you. I didn’t want to break tradition.”
The corner of his lips pulls up in a small smile. “Good, good,” he comments, sitting in his own seat across from you. The food looks delectable, whipped ricotta with herbs and honey paired with a basket of fresh bread, a tomato and cucumber salad tossed with fragrant seasoning and the main course: peppered pumpkin risotto topped with sage and thyme. “Let’s eat.”
Over food, Jungkook makes small talk with you. He asks you how your day was, that he tried to keep your schedule light since it was your first day back on the training grounds. You reply honestly, that it was a lot. He nods. “You’ll get used to it,” he says. “Eventually, I’d like to get you back into training, instead of watching others do it.”
You hum. Reasonable enough.
There’s a bit of silence. The food is delicious, the risotto melting in your mouth, the savory pepperiness contrasting beautifully with the sweetness of the honey and ricotta spread. Then, Jungkook speaks up again.
“Did the Solarian General know you personally?”
Your spoon freezes halfway through its journey to your mouth. You set it down. You knew this was coming; it’s rare that nations exchange war prisoners—they’re usually sentenced to death—and it’s suspicious enough that Yoongi suggests this now of all times. But you can’t blame him. He did it for you. He wants you back, regardless of your allegiance.
“He cherished all of his soldiers,” you say, hoping the response is neutral enough to placate Jungkook’s suspicions.
He raises an eyebrow. It’s futile. You cannot possibly deceive a divinist, and especially not a divinist who knows you as well as Jungkook does. “I see…”
The rest of the dinner proceeds in silence. You have trouble looking up to Jungkook’s face. He must know you’re keeping something from him, but he doesn’t pry. Instead, when he leaves, he bids you a polite goodnight. You can feel him pulling away from you, but what can you do? Your heart reaches for someone else, and you await his reply.