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“Jin, it’s a nice thought, but sometimes villains can just be bad guys, okay? They don’t always need motives.” Yoongi sighed, attempting to end this conversation because he had places to be and things to do.
Actually, Yoongi is kind of a big deal.
He’s a best-selling author with major contributions to almost every genre of literature out there. So that meant he had a pretty nice car because of pretty nice royalty checks. He could afford to work from pretty much anywhere and had a pretty nice face so people tended to like him pretty much anywhere he went.
He’s also somewhat of a coffee snob. Well, he’s a snob in general, but specifically when it comes to coffee. However, he always finds himself back at the same Starbucks to do his writing.
Maybe it’s the lighting.
Maybe it’s the cute boy that always sits in the corner sipping a caramel macchiato and writing on his laptop.
No, definitely not that.
“Jin, listen. I’m getting a call from my editor, I can’t stay on the line.” Yoongi sighed, turning the corner onto the lovely street that held his favorite Starbucks, “I don’t know why the cat is acting that way.”
He rolled his eyes, hoping somebody would take pity on him as he passed through the streets, listening to his overly caring roommate drone on about what their cat was or was not doing.
“Seriously, Jin. I gotta go.” He implored, pushing open the door to the chain coffee shop, “Just take the cat to the goddamn vet, okay?”
He hung up. Probably prematurely, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care much about what his roommate had to say about his much awaited next novel. He did, however, care somewhat about what his editor had to say.
“Hey, Yoongi, buddy, what’s happening?” Namjoon’s voice was crisp and clear, sounding like he had just hopped out of an old movie.
“Can you not call me buddy?” Yoongi asked, finally pausing once he got inside the Starbucks, “I’m about to get to writing so if you could make this quick, yeah?”
“Wow, you’re in a mood today.” Namjoon muttered, “Just have a few comments on what I’ve read so far really.”
Yoongi stepped back to allow the flow of people coming in and out of the coffee shop. When his back met the wall, he leaned his head back against the corkboard full of flyers and ads.
“Great.” He responded with an eyeroll (as if his editor could hear it through the phone).
“I just think that subplots are important. You have a lot of plots that weave around the main character and feed into his stories, but it's okay to have subplots that don't necessarily add to the main storyline. Plots that fulfill themselves even."
Yoongi blinked twice, letting the words from his editor sink in. While he's sure that Namjoon has a lot of authority in these sorts of matters, it just didn't exactly compute to him. Why have a plot that doesn't add to the overarching story? The sub characters existed to add to the main character's story.
"Thanks, Namjoon." Yoongi said, deadpan in his delivery.
"Are you going to listen to what I said at all?" Namjoon asked from the other end of the line.
"What? I can't hear you." Yoongi pulled the phone from his ear, "You're breaking up."
"Yoongi I swear to--"
"I'm going through a tunnel I--sorry--can't--" Yoongi ended the call, staying the same flat level of annoyance it was before he picked up.
Assuming Namjoon was steaming in a room or an office somewhere, Yoongi stuffed his phone in his pocket and approached the counter where he would hopefully order his coffee with very little trouble.
The young barista behind the counter instantly perked up when he saw Yoongi's face, "Ah! Yoongi-hyung! Nice to see you. How's the novel?"
Jungkook always managed to snag a smile out of Yoongi despite his cold disposition. He was young and warm, working his way through college making espresso shots just like the rest of the young boys who worked this coffee shop. They were all young and oddly beautiful looking. Where do they grow Starbucks workers nowadays?
"Better, hopefully," Yoongi said with a nod and a smile, finally easing his bitter disposition from earlier.
"Great!" Jungkook smiled, his eyes glimmering with the hope of youth, "So one non-fat caramel macchiato, right?"
"Uh ..." Yoongi raised his eyebrows, "Yes, actually."
"I do know your order, hyung. You're in here often enough." Jungkook scrawled something on his cup and then slid it across the slick countertop towards the barista making drinks, "Jimin, order up."
Jimin stretched a bit to snatch the cup off of the counter. Yoongi was a bit too preoccupied to watch them go about their usual routine since he was waiting for the chip reader to finally process the payment for his $5 cup of coffee.
"Ah, is that Yoongi-hyung?" Jimin peeked out from behind the giant milk steaming machines and processors and whatever else blocked Yoongi's view.
Jungkook nodded, snapping the receipt off and handing it over to Yoongi, "It is! He's here to work on the next big thing."
"No, don't say that." Yoongi laughed, "You don't want to jinx it. I write from life and life hasn't been interesting lately."
"I'm sure your novel will be fantastic." Jungkook nodded, his hair bouncing as he did so, "Plus, all you need for an interesting life is interesting friends around you. You'll certainly find that here."
Yoongi frowned, "That makes me the main character, and seeing as I'm less interesting than all of you, I'm certain that would make for a bad story."
"No way!" Jimin yelled from where he was making Yoongi's macchiato attentively, "Side characters are always the coolest. Does anybody even like main characters nowadays?" Jimin finished up his quick task and jogged around the counter to personally deliver the macchiato to Yoongi's hands, "Don't make your side characters boring, please."
After taking the coffee from Jimin he nodded quickly at both of the boys, "Yes, yes, of course. I promise."
They both looked at each other and smiled, making Yoongi a bit suspicious as to whether they had both just been a bit more chipper that morning or if something else was going on. Either way, he dismissed himself from his favorite baristas and quickly shuffled his way over to the seating area.
It was small, with a long bar where people could plug in their laptops and stare out the window as they worked. This was not, however, where Yoongi was interested in doing most of his work. Not because he was paranoid that somebody would read over his shoulder, but because he had another favored spot.
In the corner there was a little table right next to where the window bar ends. It has a seat up against a wall and while it did give Yoongi the coverage of having nobody see what he was working on, it mostly gave him a great view of the bar against the window.
He sat down at this perfect spot and set up his macbook, flipping open a scene he recalled having more muse than usual for while he was working last night. However, his eyes didn't stay on the screen for very long. After feigning interest in his computer screen for a couple of moments his eyes drifted up to a stranger who was sitting at that long wooden table, frustratedly typing at his own computer.
It was useless to pretend he didn't have a slight problem here. The only reason he came back to this accursed coffee shop was because of the other resident here. He always had a messenger bag slung over his shoulder and his fingers blitzing across keys, though he didn't make much progress. The stranger did more backspacing than he did actual writing; and in the meantime he drank hot chocolate like there was caffeine hidden somewhere inside the sugar.
"His name is Hoseok," came a voice next to Yoongi.
“Hose-what?” Yoongi turned to locate the voice.
It was Taehyung, another college-aged employee at the Starbucks who was usually responsible for cleaning tables. And to his benefit, he was cleaning the table next to Yoongi’s. Though it looked as if the table didn’t need any cleaning whatsoever. This wasn’t exactly a happening location in general, let alone at late morning.
“Hoseok,” he said in a low voice, “You’ve been staring at him since you started coming here like two months ago, and you don’t know his name. How whimsical.”
“Taehyung! Keep your voice down!” Yoongi hissed, ducking behind his macbook.
“Oh, he has headphones in. Maybe he’s listening to classical music. I feel like he’s the type.” Taehyung smiled. “Or hip hop actually. No, definitely hip hop. He writes poetry, after all.”
“He writes poetry?” Yoongi asked, peeking up from the top of his macbook at Hoseok who was chewing on his lip and looking at the white glow of his screen intently.
“Yes.” Taehyung nodded. “And it’s awesome. I used to write poetry, but it ended up being mostly about dinosaurs.”
“Dinosaurs? I--”
“Listen,” Taehyung cut him off, “You’re a writer, right? Working on your second hit novel and all that?”
“How do you know all this?” Yoongi asked, both a hint of confusion and annoyance present in his voice.
He could count on his fingers the numbers of times he’s actually spoken to Taehyung for any length of time after all.
“Well no budding romance starts with and then I stared at him for three months without approaching.” Taehyung stood up from wiping the pristine table, “Actually, I think you’ve got way too much to learn about writing. You’re best selling, right?”
That ticked Yoongi off.
He slapped his laptop shut and stood up from the table, fixing his hoodie to straighten it out before donning a brave face and stalking over to Hoseok. Halfway to his spot, he looked over his shoulder to see if Taehyung was watching, but he must have scurried off because he wasn’t there anymore. At this point he had spent way too long looking at the empty tables and managed to collide directly with Hoseok in the process.
“Whoa, hey, are you good?” Hoseok stuck out his arm, catching Yoongi from falling flat on the floor.
In the scramble, Yoongi had grabbed onto the long table that Hoseok was sitting at, leaving him in a very precarious position with the boy he had yet to even formally introduce himself to.
“I … ah …” Yoongi floundered.
“I see you around here all the time, and you come crashing into me?” Hoseok smiled with an almost inhuman brightness, “You should know where I sit by now.”
“I was just …” Still floundering, “going to the bathroom.”
Yoongi bolted, directly towards the Starbucks bathrooms. He had no intent of actually going to the bathroom, however, and just slipped out of view of the rest of the shop and behind the corner.
Once in the safety of the hallway, he leaned back up against the wall and let out a breath. So much for that first encounter. A few hazardous breaths passed his lips before he opened his eyes and looked at the men’s restroom in front of him. His confidence immediately came back because … well, who was he to be intimidated talking to somebody? He was Min Yoongi of course. If he just went out there and was like hey then everything would be great and he stepped forward, straightening up once more.
A couple more solid breaths, and he started to turn so he could head back into the coffee shop.
But, a pair of hands grabbed him from behind.
Before he knew what was happening, he was grappling for traction against the floor and hearing the bathroom door open.
“What the fuck is--” he shouted, but it was too late.
The hands shoved him into the dark men’s restroom, and he stumbled for a few seconds before eventually regaining his balance. He reached out in search of the door, but found only blankness in his reach. The room was entirely dark too. Not a single stray ray of light from under a door or anything else. It was starting to scare Yoongi a little bit.
“Shit,” he muttered, “The door was right here. Where is it?”
“Yoongi-hyung!” Jungkook yelled, his voice muffled by the door, wherever it may be.
“Jungkook!” he called back, “Can you open the door?”
Just then, a door swung open and light flooded in from the outside. Yoongi shielded his eyes from the outside world, seeming to have difficulty adjusting.
“What on Earth are you wearing, sir?” Jungkook said.
He felt Jungkook strong arming him out of the closet and being a touch smaller, he came out pretty easily. His eyes had fully adjusted by now, and he was looking at a Jungkook who was dressed … very differently.
“What is all this?” Yoongi asked, picking at the heavy robe that Jungkook was clothed in.
Jungkook raised his eyebrows, “These are my robes, hyung. I should be asking what you’re doing. Jeans are worn only by those who work farmland, not the heir to the throne.”
“Heir to the throne?” Yoongi laughed, “What the fuck are you on about?”
“Sir, did you hit your head?” Jungkook asked.
That was when Yoongi noticed his surroundings. This was no longer the hallway to a Starbucks bathroom … no, he was somewhere else entirely.
His eyes scanned upward, looking towards the ceiling. It was much taller than that of the Starbucks. There were pillars on either side of the hallway. Great, white pillars that seemed to touch that endlessly high ceiling. Each surface was covered in delicately crisp marble. White and beautiful with gray cracks. The only adornment in sight was some gold ornamentation every here and there to make it look a little less clinical.
When his eyes drifted down, he saw a lush red carpet also accented with gold borders. It ran the entire length of the hallway and was occupied by only himself and Jungkook.
"Are you listening to me?" Jungkook fretted, biting his lip, "Prince Yoongi, are you okay?"
"Where are we? What is this place?" Yoongi asked very calmly.
"You definitely hit your head. Oh dear, Jimin will have my hide for this." Jungkook paused his fretting to have a sudden moment of clarity, "You must have bumped your head. You have amnesia, right?"
"I ..." Yoongi sighed, "Fuck, sure, fine."
"Alright, well, symptoms like this are normally temporary, correct?" Jungkook mused, wringing his hands together and shrugging off a little bit of his fear as he did so, "For the time being, just know that your are the prince of a very affluent family. The royal family in fact. You are to be married and take the throne in the next year. I'm your page, Jungkook."
Yoongi nodded, still a bit stunned by the nature of this lucid dream he had drifted into. It suddenly became apparent to him that he must have hit his head on his way into the bathroom and this was some sort of knocked-unconscious type of dream. In a few minutes, he would wake up on the floor of a shitty coffee shop with Jungkook and Jimin fawning over him and all would be right with the world.
"Can I lie down?" Yoongi asked with a smile.
"Ah ..." Jungkook nodded dutifully, "Right this way, sir."
It's not a dream.
Yoongi sat up in the king-sized plush bed and stared into the gigantic mirror on the other side of the chamber. He was looking directly at himself, but in an entirely different world.
It is not a dream.
He threw off the feather filled comforter and all but leapt up off the bed, sprinting to the mirror to look at himself more carefully. This was his body and his face. He was still Min Yoongi the popular and well known author. So why was he trapped in this medieval castle with his barista parading around in a robe?
"You're fucked this time, Yoongi." He hissed to himself, dropping his head into his hands on the bureau.
While lamenting his situation and wondering if perhaps he could clock what drug they slipped into his macchiato, he noticed a piece of manuscript lying on the wooden surface beneath him. Slowly, he lowered his hands, keeping his head hanging over the unrolled scroll so he could read it.
Dearest Min Yoongi,
I'm sure by now you have figured out that your stay here is not limited. It is however, fairly temporary, assuming you learn your lessons and change for the better.
This isn't about making you a better person. This is about making you a better writer. Consider this your story, and you are the main character.
Figure out what your lessons are to learn from this story and you will be set free ...
"This is some serious bullshit." Yoongi snatched the paper and crumpled it.
Parchment crumples in a really satisfying way, so Yoongi pitched it halfway across the room, landing in the sheets somewhere. It didn't make him reappear in his own reality, however. In fact it made everything just a little bit worse. What the fuck did that even mean?
A knock rang out from the door.
"Come in," Yoongi groused.
Jungkook slowly pushed the door open, stepping into the room gently and giving somebody just outside the room a nod before closing the door behind him and standing a good distance from Yoongi. His robes were a different color from the day before, but were just as elegant and flowing.
"Good morning, sir. You slept quite a while. I was beginning to worry actually ... Have you remembered much?"
Yoongi sighed, shaking his head, "No, I haven't been able recall shit."
"Ah, well, I can help you out if need be." Jungkook nodded, "I need to be with you all the time anyways, so it won't be difficult. We do have to keep people from finding out, though."
"Understood."
"And, sir?"
Yoongi met his eyes, "Yes?"
"Can I persuade you to put on more appropriate clothing?"
Yoongi looked down at his black hoodie and ripped jeans, considering for a moment just how out of place he would look in a castle of epic fantasy.
"Yes, that's probably a good idea."
Jungkook smiled shyly, "Wonderful."
"It's so tight," Yoongi complained, tugging at the ruffles around his neck, "I can't breathe."
"Hyung, please,” Jungkook begged, “Once we go through this door you have to at least pretend or else we’ll arouse suspicion with your parents. We can’t afford that.”
“Can we avoid my parents at all costs?” Yoongi asked, scratching at his neck where the white ruffles of his princely outfit sat.
“We normally do.” Jungkook responded, undoing the latch on the door in the process, “You’re starting to remember.”
Yoongi tipped his head as if to agree, but in actuality he was certain that this just meant this fantasy world was not entirely different from his own reality. That boded well. That meant maybe he could draw conclusions and expect things.
“This is your bodyguard: Jimin.”
“Come again?” Yoongi blinked.
“Hush,” Jungkook hissed, “Keep your voice low. Yes, this is Jimin, and he’s your bodyguard.”
“Oh no, I know him. I just don’t see him being a bodyguard whatsoever,” He scoffed, “You’re sure it’s Jimin?”
“You called, my liege?” Jimin asked, turning the corner with a gentle smile on his face.
“I’m no liege.” Yoongi crinkled up his face.
Jimin raised an eyebrow, looking to Jungkook for an answer as the hallway began to populate with all sorts of people going about their business in the royal castle.
“He’s been a bit grumpy since oversleeping,” Jungkook assured him.
“This is usual,” Jimin responded, still smiling, “The king has matters to attend to, so he’s hoping Yoongi will stand in for him today. At least until later.”
“Stand in for what?” Yoongi asked, looking between them both.
“So, Taehyung,” Yoongi started, “You’re saying bandits burned down only your wheat fields and nothing else?”
The man on the carpet in front of him nodded.
Yoongi sighed, leaning back in what must be a very expensive throne and looking towards the high ceilings of the castle. A red carpet ran down from the throne, over some descending stairs and out along the large room towards the door. He had seen approximately ten people already this morning, and he was growing tired of interacting already.
Not just because he considered himself introverted, but mostly because dealing with other people’s problems is just flat out bothersome. Even if this was a real world that he actually had to live in, he couldn’t bring himself to sit on a gold chair all day and listen to people ask for things. Especially when he had been almost explicitly told he can’t give them anything or help them in any way.
This was until somebody familiar popped up.
“I find that hard to believe,” Yoongi said, stretching his neck.
“I know it’s hard to believe since you sit in your castle all day like this, but there are bandits that terrorize the town,” Taehyung yelled, frustration bubbling through his words, “How can you sit there idly and not care about the people you serve? We never asked for you.”
Jimin stepped forward, seeing his sudden anger and put a hand on his shoulder, “That’s enough, sir.”
“No!” He yelled, throwing off Jimin’s arm, “Why should you get to rule a kingdom only because you were born this way? I dread the day you become king!”
Yoongi was a bit taken aback by this experience. He watched wide eyed as Taehyung began to yell and shout, flinging his arms and crying non-sense about the bandits. Jimin quickly intervened, hoisting the squabbling boy off the ground and lugging him over to the door where he was met by more heavily armored guards.
“Why is Tae-I mean, he like that?” Yoongi looked to Jungkook who was taking notes beside the throne.
“He’s mad. Everyone knows Taehyung to be the town lunatic.” Jungkook responded without sparing him a direct glance.
“He said there were bandits, though. Shouldn’t the police take care of them?”
“The police?” Jungkook looked up from his scroll, “As in … forces? I assure you the royal guards have much more pressing matters here in the castle. We can’t spare them for every single thing that goes on in the town.”
“The guards?” Yoongi sat up in the throne, looking at Jungkook sternly, “The most they’ve done is carry that poor man out of the castle. I haven’t seen a single fucking pressing matter since I got here.”
“My lord.” Jungkook started.
“No, stop!” Yoongi stood up, “Quit saying that. I’m not your lord. I’m a writer. I write novels. And you aren’t a page, okay? You’re just a barista at Starbucks. I don’t know how I got in this castle, but I don’t belong here and I’m not going to keep sitting on this goddamn throne all day.”
“Sir--” Jimin started, having returned to them as well.
“No!” Yoongi yelled, huffing dramatically.
He turned his back to both of them and stormed off the platform, towards the door he entered from, and left Jungkook and Jimin in an echoey stone room.
“Jimin,” Jungkook said.
“Hm?”
“What is Starbucks?”
This had to be a trip. A bad, bad trip. He must have had something slipped in his coffee, or fallen and hit his head on the bathroom floor. There was no fucking way he was stuck here.
This morning things had felt so real. He slept. Time had passed. He could feel things and touch things and yell and scream and thrash on the bed covers until he had burned his body out and realized he had no energy left to simmer in denial.
Maybe he was in a coma. That was his final explanation for all this.
A knock came at the door of his quarters.
“I swear to god if you come in here and call me liege or prince or something else I’ll beat the shit out of you,” Yoongi announced.
“I swear by the crest,” Jungkook called back, before adding softly, “May I please enter?”
“Fine,” Yoongi answered to the ceiling.
Slowly the door creaked open, and Jungkook let himself in, shuffling across the wall near the door and gingerly letting it close behind him. He looked a bit more ruffled than he had been earlier and must have changed robes since they were now a different color.
However, Jungkook remained quiet, staying between the door and the bureau. He seemed to be looking down at the floor as well. Yoongi thought this was good at first, but his presence began to make him uncomfortable, so he sat up on the bed and addressed him fully.
“What do you want?”
Jungkook glanced up, meeting his eyes only for a brief second before looking back down, “Nothing.”
“Then why are you here?” Yoongi narrowed his eyes.
“S--” Jungkook caught himself, “I can’t leave you.”
“You absolutely can. In fact it would be awesome if you did.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Jungkook then looked up and met Yoongi’s icy gaze, “I’m your page. I have to be with you at all times. If we’re apart then we risk people finding out.”
“Finding out what?” Yoongi asked in exasperation, “I’m sick of getting no explanation on anything from you.”
Jungkook didn’t respond initially. His face seemed to change from one of fear to genuine surprise. Maybe even a touch of bafflement struck the young man.
“You really aren’t Prince Yoongi,” He stated, mouth hanging open.
“Jesus, it took you long enough.” Yoongi rolled his eyes, “What gave it away?”
“Prince Yoongi would know I never leave his side because I pass my magic off as his. So nobody finds out he doesn’t have magic.”
“What?”
Jungkook seemed to have picked his jaw up off the ground. He pushed up off the wall and took a few tentative steps towards the bed as he spoke, “If people found out you were born without magic then you wouldn’t be fit to inherit the kingdom. Your mother struggled so hard to conceive you that … well it would be a catastrophe if they couldn’t make you king one day.”
“I … don’t have powers?” Yoongi repeated back to him, “But … if I’m the main character then I should have the best power. The most hidden one, but the strongest.”
The page seemed confused with this, “No … you have no powers at all.”
This didn’t make any sense at all. The note he had received named him as the main character. Why would a main character be this flawed? Even further why would he rely on a young side character to do something for him? And he was still confused on why Jimin in qualified to be a bodyguard.
“Fuck,” Yoongi growled, throwing himself back on the bed, “I’m stuck in a world that makes no sense. I’m going to die here.”
“Do you think my Yoongi is in your world?” Jungkook asked.
“I hope not.”
They both held a moment of introspection after that. The sun was high and filtering in through the glass of the royal chambers, leaving a lattice pattern on the cold stone floor and the carpets that littered it. All of the royal jewelry was glinting the light back at him and feeling all too realistic for his coma induced nightmare.
“I have a proposition,” Jungkook said, clearing his throat, “If you pretend to be Prince Yoongi so as to not draw suspicion, I will help you figure out how to return to your own world.”
“How do I pretend to be someone I’m not?” Yoongi asked, still lying sprawled out on the bed.
“I’ll be your aid.” Jungkook nodded, “Should not be difficult.”
Yoongi continued to look at the ceiling, still more interested in his original plan of continuing to lay on the bed until he died than this new one. But, perhaps he can figure out what exactly it is he should be learning through this other plan.
“Okay.” Yoongi shook his head, “What’s the worse that can happen?”
The castle was abuzz now. There were important looking people everywhere bustling here and there. He passed people that looked like celebrities and people that looked like they dabbled in voodoo on the weekends.
Jimin was in a more reasonable set of light armor as he walked Yoongi through the halls. This was good.
Jungkook was following him from behind, still jotting things down on his roll of parchment paper and occasionally nudging Yoongi one direction or another to make sure he didn’t look lost in the castle. Which was also good, because he had no idea where he was going.
What was not good however, was that Namjoon still managed to have a position of nagging in this alternate dimension. He saddled right up alongside the envoy and had been listing off a bunch of useless information for the past couple of minutes. This had not at all been helpful and in fact made everything way more stressful for Yoongi.
“And Kim Seokjin is visiting today so you’ll have to carve out time to see him,” Namjoon stated, “I think that’s all for royal business. As far as advisement goes, I heard you had a little bit of a breakdown earlier. Shocking I know, however I advise you against doing that in the future.”
“Understood.” Yoongi paused in his tracks, “Wait.”
Jungkook nearly slammed into Yoongi, insteading dodging to the side and causing Namjoon to step back. Jimin strolled along for a few seconds before realizing the party had stopped moving.
“What about the bandits? Robbing houses? Is that not in the notes?” Yoongi asked.
Namjoon raised his eyebrows and laughed, “Are you kidding? People get robbed all the time. That’s not royal business. Focus on other things, okay? Side issues are unimportant.”
“Come on,” Jimin chided, “If we go now, we can meet Prince Seokjin for lunch and get it over with.”
“Why am I meeting with another prince?”
Jimin exchanged a look with Jungkook and chuckled, “Whilst I’m aware of your distaste for the arrangement, surely you haven’t forgotten that you’re engaged to marry him.”
Yoongi’s eyes got wider, “Marry Seokjin?”
Jin sat at the end of a long table. The mahogany stretched out before him like an extension of his own comfortability. With one leg over the arm of the chair, he seemed to be just lounging about when the three boys entered the room.
Yoongi, still marvelling at how huge this dining hall was for one that Jungkook had called auxiliary, almost missed Jin speaking.
“That was quick,” Jin stated, “Eager to get rid of me? That won’t work once we’re married you know.”
“I can’t believe that somebody would pick you to marry me,” Yoongi muttered.
“Come again?” Jin asked.
“Uh …” Jungkook jumped in, “His highness has a very busy day and was hoping to just meet with you very briefly.”
Jin stood up from the chair and kicked it out from the table. Now, Seokjin was quite a handsome man in Yoongi’s own universe. In fact, Yoongi had always imagined his main character looking a bit like his room mate because of how nice looking his features were, but he never once would have said he was attracted to Jin.
However, when he stood up in a princely outfit made of many parts all blue, gold, and white, he looked almost like a god. Seokjin approached Yoongi with a few steps and gave him a nice smile.
“I was, however, hoping to speak to you privately,” He said.
Yoongi looked to Jungkook who shook his head.
Jin sighed, “Please. It’ll only take a moment.”
“Okay, fine. Yoongi waved to Jungkook and Jimin, “I’ll yell if he tries to mother me or something.”
After some unbudgeted hesitancy, Jungkook and Jimin slowly withdrew from the room, leaving the two men to themselves.
Once they had left, Yoongi noted a change in disposition on the older man’s face. He went from a strong air of pride to one of concern. This was a look that Yoongi commonly associated with phrases like the dishwasher stopped working or did you seriously let your leftovers rot in the back of the fridge for a month?
“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked, catching Jin off guard.
“I’m …” He paused, collecting his thoughts, “I know that the Min and Kim kingdoms have never been anything but rivals. Your kingdom is magic and every time our difference came up, you used that to squash us. I understand the hatred and the fear, but I don’t think that people our age believe we can never get along. My mother however, doesn’t see things this way. I know I may not be her favorite son, but I also don’t think she’d so easily see me married off to a Min.”
To be frank, this was a conversation that Yoongi was not equipped to have whatsoever. He was seriously regretting sending Jungkook away now.
“Are you saying she won’t follow through?” Yoongi said, scared his response didn’t make sense.
“I don’t know. My father has been attempting to sabotage your kingdom for as long as I can remember,” Jin said softly, “I understand this is not our decision, but I felt it was important to share this with you.”
Yoongi nodded and agreed, though he didn’t understand what this had to do with his story.
“Well, now. Food?” Jin asked.
Afterwards Jungkook and Jimin came back in, and everything was mildly boring from that point out. Yoongi spent most of his time eating and listening as Jungkook parlayed with Seokjin to try and make plans for the future. He had way more to chew on mentally than wedding plans that he would hopefully not be around to enjoy.
Finally, Yoongi managed to find some time to sit and think. After meeting with Jin and having Yoongi sign a few documents, they had whisked him off to watch some minstrels and jesters perform. Apparently this was an afternoon past time that they all enjoyed. All being everyone native to this realm that is. The sounds were a bit too overwhelming for Yoongi, and he had used a moment of distraction to get away from his escorts.
He found a bench a few turns down the hall and was sitting with his head against the wall. The marble of the hallways was cold and felt nice against his sweaty skull. He had so far been unable to crack any of the riddle of what he was supposed to be learning. Perhaps it was all a sick joke his own mind had conceived for him.
Just then somebody walked past and caught Yoongi’s attention.
He instantly recognized him.
“Hoseok?” Yoongi called out.
Hoseok froze very suddenly, turning on his heel to face the slumped prince.
“Oh! Prince Yoongi. I didn’t realize you were there.” He quickly bowed, “Did you enjoy the show?”
“I actually had to leave. It was a bit too much for me,” Yoongi said, “Why don’t you sit down? You look tired.”
“Not at all.” Hoseok’s smile was almost believable, “My job is never done. Entertaining royals from dusk to dawn.”
“Bullshit.” Yoongi scoffed.
The jester looked a bit surprised at his language.
“I mean …” Yoongi paused, “What’s more important than entertaining the crown prince? Sit with me.”
Hoseok made no audible noise, but nodded and approached the bench. Yoongi closed his eyes for a second and put his head back against the wall, waiting for Hoseok to sit down next to him. Yet, that moment didn’t come. He opened his eyes to Hoseok looking hesitantly at the bench.
“Seriously?” Yoongi reached out and snatched Hoseok’s sleeve, bringing him down to the bench next to him. Had he not been as put out by the events of the last twenty-four hours then perhaps he would have a conscious mind to be a bit more courteous towards somebody that in his own world he had affection for. However, since today had been the way it was, and he had yet to see anybody in this world as more than funhouse mirror versions of their real counterparts, he found himself unable to be shy for the moment.
"Sorry," Hoseok apologized, plopping down on the bench, "I'm usually not timid, I'm just not accustomed to sitting on the same level as royalty."
"I'm barely royal," Yoongi grunted, pulling his hand back to his lap and letting out a laborious breath, "I just want to talk to somebody who doesn't have an agenda."
"You've come to the right place." Hoseok chuckled, "My current agenda is not getting fired by you or other royals."
That sentence struck Yoongi as odd, "Get fired? You should get a raise. You were the only one out there who could actually dance."
"I'm flattered, but other nobility don't seem to think I have any other ... desirable qualities."
Yoongi fixed his posture then, deciding to give his full attention to this other-worldly version of his long time window crush, "What do you mean? What else do you do?"
He remained transfixed by that eternal smile on Hoseok's face as the boy said, "More of what I don't do. I don't sing. I'm not the best lute player either."
"What about your poetry?" Yoongi asked.
Hoseok looked stunned, the eternal smile edging into one that looked more dumbfounded.
"How do you know I write poetry?" Hoseok asked very, very quietly.
"I ..." shit, he keeps managing to forget that this isn't the real world, "Jungkook told me. I've got no idea how he knew."
A couple of palace guards marched past then. Yoongi's eyes followed them closely as they hobbled through the halls in the shiny armor. Had the two of them not been on that bench tucked up against the column protruding from the wall, then maybe they had been spotted. Yoongi knew that it wouldn't have been long before Jimin and Jungkook realized he was missing anyways.
"I do write poetry, that's true. Though I can't recall sharing with anybody recently," Hoseok continued to talk, unfazed by the two guards searching down another corridor, "Nobody cares for poetry, though. I'm lucky to still be here."
That pulled Yoongi back into the conversation, "What do you write about?"
It was clear that, although Hoseok was stunned that Prince Yoongi would take as much interest in him as he was now, he was quite passionate about his poetry. His eyes lit up as he spoke.
"I adore writing about things that intertwine. Two plots coming together to tell one story. Or a couple lines that may seem to be senseless until you reach the end and realize that was where the story was all along."
Something in Yoongi's mind instantly clicked into place.
"Sideplots," Yoongi breathed, realizing just how right Namjoon had been before.
"Yes!" Hoseok's eternal smile shining through once again, "Sideplots that aid and become the main plot. It's no novella, but poetry can do it as well."
"I have to go--" Yoongi stood up, "I think I've figured this plot out. Are you coming?"
Hoseok shook his head, "No, ah, I really must go--"
"With me, yep." Yoongi snatched his wrist again and yanked him off the bench.
A full aerobic exercise later and half of the journey he was attempting to make, Jungkook and Jimin intercepted him. Seeing that he was running down the marble encrusted halls, they both leapt in front of him to block his path.
After screeching to a halt on the overly decorative floors, Yoongi shouted, "Come on! I was this close!"
"This close to what?" Jungkook asked, stretching his long arms out to keep him from going any further.
"Why are you dragging a minstrel behind you?" Jimin asked, doing the same.
Yoongi looked behind him at a very confused Hoseok and then back at the guard and page who were seriously impeding his path to solving the riddle that would get him out of this fantasy world. All he had to do was talk to Jin.
"Listen to me," Yoongi said coldly, "I have a pretty good reason to believe the Kim Kingdom is behind the sudden uptick in bandit attacks. I have to to talk to Jin. Now."
Jimin and Jungkook exchanged glances as if to say what the fuck is he on about without, of course, saying so verbally.
The youngest of the two spoke then, "That is a heavy accusation to levy on his parents, Yoongi. I can't allow you to do this."
Jimin nodded as if to back Jungkook's statement.
"Good thing you don't have that power. I'm the crown prince and what I say goes. Unless of course my parents told you directly to do the opposite, which I'm gonna guess they didn't so ... move."
Once more the two young boys looked at each other. They both knew that Yoongi was right. Anything other than listening him would be an act of treason at this point. Even Namjoon didn't have the power to stop the prince from doing what he wanted to. So they begrudgingly let their arms down and parted ways, allowing Yoongi to stalk past them towards the door that hid Seokjin from them.
He reached up to knock on the door, but before he could bring his knuckles to the wood, the door burst open, revealing an entire swath of bandits.
They immediately tumbled out of the room, two of them grabbing Yoongi and hoisting him off the ground, so he had no leverage to fight against them. They were dressed in blacks, browns, and dark hues; all of which became a blur as Yoongi found himself being carried away from the door. He looked back in time to see that Jungkook was also on the ground, unable to fight in his thick robes. They even managed to have Hoseok pinned with ease.
The only person who was putting up any amount of fight was Jimin. Four bandits were on him, and he had his sword drawn, making loud noises to try and attract the attention of nearby guards. However, this room must have been decided on very carefully since it was the furthest room from any guard post in the castle.
Eventually one of the bandits managed to get a knife in on Jimin's arm, and he lost grip on his sword. Yoongi could clearly make out the sound of the metal clanging to the floor. What followed was a general rush of the bandits in an attempt to subdue the bodyguard.
Jimin used his good arm to fend off one of the bandits with a clean disarmament and a couple of jabs at the guy's head and chest. The guard carrying Yoongi paused, noticing that Jimin was putting up way more of a fight than any of them had anticipated. For somebody who Yoongi had never once thought capable of anything more than making coffee, Jimin was almost elegant in his vain attempts to fight back the bandits.
One of the bandits yelled, "Take the others! Now! Go!"
Then Yoongi was suddenly in motion again, headed towards a tower that would spiral downwards to an exit in the castle's east side. He realized that this was not a situation he was prepared for and began thrashing, hoping to catch them off guard.
He did manage to do just that, kicking one of the bandits in the side with his dress shoes and causing him to collapse. This didn't serve to take the other by surprise, however, because as soon as Yoongi hit the floor, he was on top of him pinning him down.
The bandit seemed to be much more powerful than Yoongi since his squirming didn't give him any headway on getting free from his captor's clutches. At least not before the other guard he had taken down could get back up.
And then clock him in the head. Lights out.
When Yoongi came to, he felt an instant throbbing pain in the back of his head. He must have been hit harder than he remembered. Consequently, the room swam in shades of red and brown and black for a moment before any clarity peeked through Yoongi's vision. A couple of shapes straightened themselves out and suddenly Yoongi was inside of a dungeon's cell.
He remained somewhat still for a moment, not sure if he would aggravate his condition by moving, but noticed that he wasn't alone. The room was a textbook cell, shackles on the wall, a room carved out of the stone of the earth and essentially nothing but a wooden bench chained to the wall for them. A torch hung next to the thick bars of the cell door and beyond that he could see another cell directly across from him.
Jungkook was leaning against the bars, staring into his cell for any sign of movement, and another figure, assumedly that of Jimin, was sitting slumped against the far wall.
"Jungkook," Yoongi called, soft enough to not cause a problem if someone overheard.
Jungkook perked up, "Yoongi-hyung? Are you awake now?"
"Yes, yes," Yoongi said quietly.
This was when he noticed somebody else was immediately in the cell with him. He looked over at the shifting form to see that Hoseok had been sitting just in his blind spot against the wall to his right.
"Are you okay?" Hoseok asked, moving so he was squatted beside Yoongi.
Yoongi moved his head then, turning to look at Hoseok and almost instantly noticing that he had taken quite a beating in the conflict. There was a few scrapes on his cheeks and little red cut that ran just above his eyebrow. Yoongi instantly forgot about his potentially concussed skull and reached for Hoseok's hair to move it aside.
"What do you mean am I okay?" Yoongi said, "You're literally still bleeding, stupid."
"I am?" Hoseok reached up to touch his forehead where Yoongi had uncovered and was surprised when he pulled his fingers back to see they were stained with a little bit of blood, "Oh."
"Oh?" Yoongi rolled his eyes and let go of Hoseok's hair.
He reached for the stupid ruffles that Jungkook had forced him to wear around his neck and gave them a good couple of yanks until they tore off of him, leaving a less than fashionable but much more comfortable shirt. He realized too that he must have lost his jacket and shoes or had them taken from him on the way.
Jungkook called out from across the way, "What's going on? Is everything okay over there?"
"Yeah, it's fine," Yoongi yelled back, before using a hand to push Hoseok back against the wall on the right, "Stay still."
There were no rebuttals from the usually chipper Hoseok as Yoongi put one knee on either side of him and hovered just a couple inches above him, pushing his hair back with one hand. With the ruffles in his other hand, he pressed them against the cut, seeing the red seep into the white of his expensive clothing. There was more blood flow that he would have thought. He watched it spread for a few seconds before eventually the flowering patch of blood stain slowed to a stop, and he could almost feel the blood clotting.
The minstrel winced initially but just now made a little whimpering noise at the continued applied pressure. To which Yoongi promptly responded.
"You're fine, please." He slowly peeled the ruined cloth off of Hoseok's forehead to reveal a wound that was no longer dripping with crimson. After tossing the ruffles somewhere into the cell he repeated himself, "You're fine, yes?"
"I ..." Hoseok was starstruck, "Don't think I'll be able to convince anybody this really happened."
That made Yoongi laugh. A sense of humor even facing circumstances like these was a very good thing to have.
"I'll tell them myself if we make it through this, okay?" He began to get a bit conscientious of his current position over top of Hoseok and moved off of him, "And you're definitely getting a raise since this is all my fault anyways."
"A raise?" Hoseok snorted, "Are you aware that subjects like me don't get pay? We just live in the castle and get fed. That's the pay."
While not entirely surprising to Yoongi, he was not entirely excited about the statement, "Well if we make it through this then you're going to start getting paid."
Jungkook raised his voice again, calling out once more, "Yoongi, come to the bars!"
Yoongi chose not to raise any complaints and instead just picked himself up off the ground. When he first stood up, he felt a bit light headed, immediately having to prop himself up against the wall for a moment. Hoseok looked up, concern on his face, but Yoongi waved him off. After the blood rush to his head stabilized, he found walking wasn't very problematic. This boded well for his body. Hopefully his injuries were only the blow he took to the head.
Once he made it to the door to the cell he wrapped his thin fingers around the cold metal of the tubes and looked out into the hallway. They were actually at the end of a very, very long dungeon corridor. The rooms were fairly spaced out, the next one being at an angle that Yoongi could just get a good view of the bar door and not much else. He noticed that at the very end of the hallway looked to be a shiny figure, obviously a guard. The figure seemed fairly motionless, though, and definitively out of earshot.
He then turned his attention fully to the tall boy in the cell across from him. Jungkook seemed to be (at least visibly) in the best condition of all of them. His hair was a bit matted and tossed aside, and his robes were missing, leaving him in fairly basic undergarments, shirts, and long underwear.
"Are you okay?" Jungkook inquired.
"God, can everyone stop asking me that?" Yoongi sighed, "Yes. I'm fine. We have better things to focus on right now. How is Jimin?"
Jungkook made a pained expression, "Not good."
He rotated his body a bit to give Yoongi a good view of Jimin. While conscious and breathing, the boy had taken quite a bit of a beating trying to defend the party before they were kidnapped. Jungkook had used pieces of his robes to patch up the wound on Jimin's arm, and there were scraps, cuts, and bruises in a myriad of other places.
Jimin's eyes stayed shut. but he responded, "I'm fine, sir."
"Oh my god." Yoongi huffed, "You are not fine."
Jimin chuckled a little bit, coughing as he did so. Whether that was a coping response or just Jimin trying to be upbeat, it made Yoongi feel worse about the situation.
"I've been on the lookout, and I can't seem to find anything that would give us an escape route," Jungkook noted solemnly, turning back to face Yoongi fully and covering Jimin from immediate sight in the process.
"Great." Yoongi pushed off of the bars and began to pace the room.
When he got stuck writing, he would always get up and move around a bit. Getting his muscles moving also seemed to get the ideas moving. Any plot hole seemed fixable about ten minutes into a walk. There wasn't really an open green space here for him to tromp around in, nor was there much room inside the cell period.
"Prince," Hoseok said meekly.
"Yeah, no." Yoongi shook his head, "Yoongi or nothing."
"Yoongi." That seemed to make Hoseok smile. A return favor smile then. "Were we kidnapped by the Kim Kingdom?"
Jungkook had an answer actually, "Yes."
This made the author turn to look back at Jungkook, "How do you know?"
"The crest." He pointed to a scroll that was hanging on the wall at the end of the hallway only a couple of yard from either of the cell doors. It was a very different crest than the one that had been hanging in the halls of castle. "It's the crest of the Kim Kingdom. Unfortunately, I have visited the dungeons with their castle and these do not look to be like those. These are probably secret dungeons, ones not accessible by the public and used for more ... secretive holdings. Perhaps that of a royal kidnapping for example."
"Fantastic," Yoongi grunted, "So where does the plot go from here?"
"The plot?" Jungkook asked, "Oh, sorry, I forgot you were an author."
"An author?" Hoseok asked as well.
Yoongi spared Jungkook an sharp glare before looking back at Hoseok. He was thinking of how best to word this.
"Do you believe in other worlds? Dimensions where we exist in an entirely different setting?" Yoongi posed.
Hoseok didn’t even seem to think on it, "Anything is possible. But how would we know?"
“Because I’m from another world,” Yoongi said, tentative about his words still, “I’m from another dimension. One where I write novels and Namjoon edits them. Jin is my roommate there. And I go to Starbucks everyday and Jungkook takes my order and Jimin makes my coffee.”
“And me?” Hoseok asked.
“You …” Yoongi let out a laugh, “You sit there and write poetry with your earbuds in, and I just sit at a table and kind of … look at you from across the room and wish I had the guts to say something to you or to get to know you.”
The other guy in the cell made a comical face, “You’re afraid to approach me in your world? I find that hard to believe. You forced me to sit with you earlier.”
“Okay, well, smart-ass. It’s different here. Things are … totally not the same.” Yoongi rolled his eyes and went back to pacing, “I guess I swapped with your Yoongi or something. I don’t know, but either way I think the only way I can get back home is if I finish this plot. And to do that I have to learn a lesson or something like that.”
“So just figure out the lesson, then?” Jungkook posed.
Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Wow, I never even thought about that, Jungkook. Thanks for the input.”
“Hey …” Hoseok bit his lip to keep himself from saying something to the Prince.
“No please.” Yoongi waved at him, “What is it?”
Hoseok grumbled, “Maybe your lesson is to be a bit nicer to Jungkook.”
Jungkook chuckled from the other cell, as if now were any time for laughing. But Yoongi was too busy having a sudden epiphany to be bothered by it. Not that he needed to be nicer to Jungkook specifically or anyone in general. He just flashed back to a conversation earlier. And one after that. From the minute he left his apartment earlier in the real world until right now he was flicking through conversation after conversation in his mind trying to connect all of the clues and revelations.
“I have to talk to Jin,” He muttered.
“Jin?” Hoseok repeated back.
Jungkook shook his head. “He’s the reason Jimin is near death, Yoongi.”
“Maybe.” Yoongi shook his head, “But if I’m reading this plot right then not at all.”
Just then their conversation was interrupted by the sound of metallic boots clattered from the other end of the hallway, clacking down the hallway towards them, and stopping just short of their cells. Yoongi was immediately back at the bars, peeking down the hallway to see two guards poking at whoever was in the cell crosswise from his own.
One of them grunted, “Come on, fool.”
The other laughed, “He’s dead weight, we may as well free up his cell for others.”
There was the clear sound of someone protesting from within the cell, and Jungkook spared a concerned look over to Yoongi who acknowledged it by swallowing the lump in his throat.
“Time to go, kid. Get over here or we’ll come in there,” the first guard called into the cell.
Yoongi felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced back at Hoseok before hissing, “You should be back in there where it’s safe.”
Hoseok paid him no mind as they continued to watch the guards harassing whoever was in the cell. Eventually whoever it was that was whimpering in the cell came forward and approached the bars. They shouted at the person that was recognizably male until he put his hands on the bars, and they then unlocked the cell, swinging the bars open and grabbing him.
Only when they dragged him out of the cell did Yoongi recognize him as Taehyung. For which he instantly felt a pang of guilt.
“No, please! I have a wife. I’m not insane I swear!” Taehyung yelled, kicking his legs until the guards tightened their grip on him, causing him to lock up.
And Yoongi quickly made a decision.
“Shit,” Yoongi said, “Fuck. Damn it. Okay.”
“What?” Hoseok looked confused.
“Hey, just in case I never get a chance to do this in the real world.” Yoongi turned around to look at Hoseok, “I really want to get coffee with you at a not shitty chain store, okay?”
Hoseok comprehended none of that, “What?”
“Awesome.” Yoongi looked back out and started to yell, “Hey, guards! Why don’t you pick on someone your paygrade?”
They almost instantly lost interest in Taehyung when they heard the prince yell out. All three of them turned their attention to Yoongi. The two guards’ expressions turned into smirks and Taehyung’s into one of utter surprise.
“What? Crown Prince of the Min Kingdom is actually sticking up for his subjects?” the guard called out.
The one guard took Taehyung and dragged him over to directly in front of Yoongi’s cell, letting the other one come up in front of him to poke a knife through the bars at his nose. He took in a sharp breath as the metal of the knife hovered a few inches from the skin of his face.
His voice came out steady, surprisingly, as he swallowed his fear, “It’s about time I started.”
Taehyung looked astonished, “Prince Yoongi, I-”
“Shut up,” Yoongi hissed, feeling the knife inch closer towards him, “Take me instead of him.”
“What on Earth are you doing?” Jungkook asked, floored by Yoongi’s words, “Are you serious?”
“You shut up too, okay,” Yoongi responded, “And yeah, I’m serious.”
The guard let out a bellowing laugh that made Yoongi instantly regret his decision. The guy’s face was partially obscured by the metal of his helmet, but he could see from his eyes that he thought this whole situation was a joke.
“You sure you want to take a beating for the crazy peasant?” the guard said, his breath low and hot, a bit too close to Yoongi’s face.
Without hesitation he answered, “yes.”
“Fine.” The guard withdrew the knife, “Swap ‘em out.”
In the next few moments, the door was swung open, and Yoongi found himself being yanked through into the hallway. He heard protesting from Hoseok, Jungkook, and Jimin, but didn’t care to hear their complaints. In fact, he was spending most of his time attempting to formulate a plan.
Knife Guard pushed Taehyung into the cell with Hoseok and quickly locked it while Other Guard grabbed Yoongi’s arm. His grip was incredibly strong, and for about the fourth time that day, Yoongi was regretting a decision he had made.
Out of the complaints rose Hoseok’s voice, who was suddenly at the door looking like a dog during a fireworks show, “Where is he going?”
“Huh,” Knife Guard shrugged, “Who knows. He won’t die though, the queen needs him for ransom, but what’s a few dents on a parcel, eh?”
The regret was really starting to get to Yoongi now as Knife Guard snagged his other arm, and they effortlessly dragged him down the hall and away from his comrades.
Yoongi wasn’t really a fan of pain.
As much as he might try to awkwardly play off every stubbed toe, it really does hurt, and he will almost certainly go choke back tears in the bathroom as soon as possible afterwards. But getting knocked around by a couple of guards was another thing.
Aside from being outright manhandled down some long snaking corridors until the stone of the walls became more rigid and orderly, they also tossed him around once they got to a spare room in what was actually beginning to look more castle-like. Of course, he fully expected to get a little bit of beating from his stunt, but he wasn’t expecting the part where he found it tough to breathe.
Eventually, he ended up knocked back against the door and decidedly put all of his weight into that hit on the door. If this was any sort of legitimate plot, maybe a good solid hit to the door would catch somebody’s attention.
And that it did.
Yoongi rolled onto his back just in front of the door and mentally prepared some sort of plea to whoever was about to open the door. And if that didn’t work, well he had a few other ideas.
A guard opened the door, instantly seeing Yoongi on the ground and looking at the other two, “Really?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi answered for them, “Really. Is this any way to treat a royal prisoner? I don’t think so.”
“Shut up,” Knife Guard snapped, pushing Yoongi with his foot.
“How long is this going to take?” the guard at the door asked as if beating up prisoners was a burden on his schedule and not cruel and unusual.
“Not long?” Other Guard guessed.
This situation was not exactly looking to turn in favor of Yoongi, but luckily he had that artfully crafted back up plan in his pocket for this. He quickly rolled onto his stomach and stood up, bolting past the guard as fast as he could.
Luckily, he was skinnier than a twig in this universe too, so he managed to slid past him with ease and started running down the halls towards more and more elegant looking things. Unfortunately, that stupid not being able to breathe thing was quickly catching up with him, and he found himself losing momentum very very fast with the guards not too far behind him.
In a matter of seconds, they were breathing down his neck, seemingly unperturbed by their armor and almost within grabbing distance. This was where Yoongi decided one last turn was in order and he immediately collided with a person, knocking them over.
He fell on this person and managed to pull off a sort of somersault, landing behind him and becoming very surprised when he recognized the person.
“Seokjin?” Yoongi asked.
“Prince!” The guards immediately halted their chase to bow, one of them reaching to help him up.
“What?” Jin took the arm and stood up, “What in the world is going on here? Why is Min Yoongi here? Does mother know?”
“Ah, sir!” The guards squabbled.
“She knows,” Yoongi said between huffs, “She is the one that kidnapped me.”
Jin’s eyebrows shot up, in surprise, “Kidnap?”
“Oh, you didn’t get the memo?” Yoongi let out another ragged breath, trying his best to stay on message, “Surprising. I’m sure she was going to tell you at dinner.”
Jin seemed to take a few seconds to calculate all of the information in his mind. He looked back to the guards that were squawking with different answers, all contradicting one another and each seeming a bit more unreasonable than the last. It took no time at all for his confusion to boil over into anger, and he held his hand up.
“You’re dismissed!” he called out harshly, “Leave me with the prince.”
They all looked at each other, hesitant to comply.
“Go!” Jin commanded, “Now.”
The turned on their heels and marched off as quickly as possible, leaving the two princes in silence. It was only now that Yoongi was able to take in just how far he had gotten into what must be the Kim castle. Light was streaming in through stained glass windows between heavy looking pillars. This castle was different from his own and just as magnificent. It was a bit more slate in color and lacked the luminescence that must come with a magical castle, but it was still charming and lovely.
Jin turned back to Yoongi, obviously distressed. It was easy to see he wasn’t expecting to run into anyone, since he wasn’t dressed in any of those fancy clothes Jungkook forced Yoongi to try on earlier. In fact, he was wearing a very simple outfit that subtly alluded to his royal status.
“We have to go somewhere,” Jin said, offering a hand to Yoongi, “My mother will hear of this quickly, and I’d like to buy as much time to hear your side of the story as possible.”
Yoongi nodded, taking his hand and preparing himself to move quickly once again.
It was really getting old.
Seokjin knew these halls well. He was the youngest of two and most certainly the less cared for. Even as a baby, he was always put second to his older brother, the crown prince. Jin never held that against him, of course. He loved his older brother, and he loved these halls even more. They would break away from the rest of the family and dart through the halls, seeing how long they could dodge around the legs of palace guards until they eventually got caught.
It almost felt the same now as he tore down the halls to a decisive location with Yoongi in tow. After a few turns and couple stretches of long purple carpeted hallway, they landed in the library: a place that was much smaller than the royal library in the centre of the palace and probably won’t be searched for a while once the guards realize the prince has gone missing.
Once they were inside, he locked the door behind him and turned to Yoongi, “So?”
“Kidnapped. Beat up. Ran. Here,” Yoongi huffed out, holding up a finger as he doubled over to try and get something back in his lungs for the first time in what feels like forever, “And your parents are the reason that my people are being ransacked everyday. Oh, and they’re going to hold me for ransom.”
Jin sighed, “That’s … That’s a lot to take in.”
“It’s the goddamn truth,” Yoongi said.
“Well, this comes at a particular time seeing as my mother sent for your advisor not long ago.” Jin put his fingers against his lips and propped one arm up with the other as he began to pace about, “If what you say is true then she’s calling him to deliver the ransom in person. She always loves owning up to something. She enjoys the satisfaction.”
“She sounds like a bitch,” Yoongi noted, finally straightening himself back up and feeling as though he had once again managed to fend off exhaustion for a moment.
“I do wish you wouldn’t say that,” Jin spoke against his fingertips, “It’s not necessarily unbelievable but she isn’t …”
“Evil.” Yoongi said softly before cursing under his breath, “Bad guys have motives too.”
Jin raised his eyebrows, “Come again?”
“You told me that bad guys have motives too. She’s been terrorized by my Kingdom, so it’s only fair that she does it back. That’s her motivation. It’s what makes her complex as a character. You taught me that.” Everything began to come together in Yoongi’s mind, “Fuck, sideplots are important. I thought the plot was to figure out the plot, but it’s not. The sideplot was the bandits which is the main plot. Of course.”
Jin was looking at him fearfully, “Gibberish. That’s what I’m hearing. Gibberish totally.”
“What else did people tell me?” Yoongi was in his own head now, “Jimin and Jungkook told me not to forget … Oh shoot. We have to get Jungkook and Jimin.”
“Your page and bodyguard? They must be worried sick about you.”
“Well, yeah, I just left them in that dungeon.”
“Dungeon?”
Yoongi realized that Jin was out of the loop about that, “Yes, Jungkook and Jimin and two others from my kingdom are in your dungeon. Do they tell you anything?”
Jin shrugged, dropping his arms, “They’re about to.”
“I’m fine,” Jimin groaned, feeling Jungkook’s fingers across the forearm cuts he had taken from one of the knife wielding bandits, “Jungkook, please.”
Jungkook looked up from where his fingers had been tracing the cuts and scrapes on Jimin’s arms with another piece of cloth he had ripped off of his robes, “Why did you not just give up when you had the chance? I was so worried, laying on the ground watching that.”
This made the bodyguard chuckle, “No way. It was a fun round of dueling.”
Jungkook pointed his finger at Jimin, “You are testing me.”
“I like doing that.” He shrugged.
“Stop making out!” Hoseok called from the other cell, “Somebody’s coming!”
There was a clanging noise as Taehyung threw himself against the bars and tried to look down the hallway as well. He called out, “Not guards.”
“I’ll be right back…?”Jungkook glanced at the cell door and then back to Jimin.
“Go, stupid,” Jimin groaned.
Jungkook hopped up from the ground and stumbled across the dark cell until he was at the door, and much to his surprise, he saw two dark clothed young men instead of the usual guards They approached with a light jog in their step, moving faster as they got closer and closer to him. It wasn’t too long before Jungkook recognized the small form of the prince he had served for eight years of his life.
“Yoongi-hyung!” Jungkook called, “Is that you? Who is--”
The other, taller man approached and pulled down the dark cloth that was obscuring most of his face. When the plush lips and strong jaw emerged, Jungkook instantly recognized him.
“Prince Seokjin--what--what are you doing with--”
Jin put a finger to his lips, silencing the young man before pulling a key out of his pocket, “Time to go.”
Namjoon had been called much earlier in the day. It had been a very urgent call from the Min kingdom, and it required him to come very quickly. So quickly, in fact, that he had entirely forgotten to stop by the ambassador’s office and speak to him. Thankfully, Namjoon was caught up on current affairs and realistically way more capable of handling an urgent call like this than that silly old man was anyways.
He had attempted to speak to Yoongi earlier in the day, but he had been missing since late last night, probably off on another bender at a ball somewhere. Which would also explain why Jungkook and Jimin were nowhere to be found either. Jimin and Jungkook tended to keep to themselves when Yoongi attended these sorts of things.
He was not, however, expecting to get the cold welcome that he did from every guard that escorted him through the palace. Not that he necessarily loved coming here for the hospitality, but this seemed especially rushed and impersonal.
He waited beyond a large wooden door attempting to make small talk with his escort service for almost half an hour before he was eventually shown in to see the queen. Mind you, she was the one calling on him to make such a hasty journey and now she was making him wait. But nonetheless, he ended up standing in front of Queen Kim who looked far older than he remembered.
And she told him that she had Min Yoongi, prince to the Min Kingdom. She told him that her group of bandits had captured him and his page and bodyguard and friends and threw them in the dungeon where they will rot indefinitely. Unless of course there were a couple demands met such as: an enormous sum of money for reparations done to her kingdom over time, and a couple of lawful agreements that no magic user would ever step foot in her lands again.
Namjoon stuttered, he had no idea what to say to something like this. Sure he was perhaps the best and sharpest advisor there was in the Min Kingdom, but he had never been prepared for a situation quite like this one. The levity of her words sat on his shoulders like a loaded ruck sack full of bricks.
“Queen Min, I can’t make any calls until consulting with my Lord and Lady.” He swallowed back his fears and fell into a more logical state of acting, “Perhaps if you release one of them, the minstrel or the peasant, or whomever is in the worst condition … this would show good faith and serve to prove that you do in fact have them.”
She had leaned forward in her gigantic chair, her face looking almost apologetic as it crinkled with her words, “You want me to give up one of my hostages?”
“What about all of us?” Yoongi called out from behind Namjoon.
The advisor spun around, and the Min queen looked up to see the sore looking team of young adults pushing open the door.
Behind him by only a few steps was Hoseok tailed by Taehyung. A few short steps behind them was Jungkook, supporting a struggling Jimin. After all five of them were standing before Namjoon, Seokjin himself entered, looking triumphant as ever.
“I suppose you were going to tell me soon, mother?” he yelled, venom in his words, but a steady boom to his projection of them.
“Jin … I--” She gritted her teeth together, slipping back in her seat a little uncomfortably, “I could have all of the guards on top of you in an instant. Why did you come here?”
Yoongi let out a chuckle, “Because if I don’t end this now then it never ends.”
“What are you saying?” Namjoon asked in bewilderment, “Are you all okay?”
“Because it’s a vicious cycle. My people have hurt hers in the past. And I get it. Your kingdom doesn’t have magic in its blood, and we used that against you. It makes perfect sense that you would be hurt, but you have to understand things are changing.”
She let out a scoff from her chair, “You make no sense. You’re just another spoiled prince sporting magic and privilege.”
“But I’m not,” Yoongi said softly, glancing back at Jungkook, “I don’t have any magic. I never have. I never will. And honestly until yesterday I wasn’t even royal.”
She furrowed her eyebrows together, but Yoongi spoke on.
“And that’s okay. Because one day I’m going to be king and everybody will listen to me when I tell them that everybody is equal. Because I know that’s just as good as a 19 year old boy passing off his magic as my own. I’m only as good as Jimin who seemed ready to die for me. Or Hoseok who never stops smiling despite the fact that he doesn’t get a paycheck which is just silly. Honestly, I’m not even better than the guy who owns a farm. No offense, Tae.”
Taehyung nodded.
Yoongi looked back at them and shrugged, “I guess I’ve figured out that a main character is only as good as his side characters. And that bad guys have motives. And side plots are important. And …” He bit his lip, “That no love story ever started with somebody staring at someone else for three months.”
The queen seemed amused. She smiled as she sat back in her chair, and suddenly, the world became very quiet. The scene around him got very slow and the colors began to bleed, mushing all of the shapes of Namjoon’s smile until it was a blur.
He felt infinitely more tired than he had before.
It all went dark.
But only for a minute.
“Yoongi, come on,” a weak voice called out to him, “Please?”
After what felt like seconds, Yoongi forced his eyes open to see Jungkook and Jimin in their green starbucks aprons hovering over him in the bathroom.
“Fuck.” Yoongi groaned, the pain seeping into the back of his head as he realized that he had, in fact, hit the floor with his head, “Where am I?”
“Uh …” Jimin looked around for a second, gaslighting himself, “Starbucks?”
“Why do you sound dubious?” Jungkook shot him a look.
“I do not,” Jimin responded.
“Stop.” Yoongi shook his head and sat up, feeling a momentary shift in the planet’s gravity as he did so.
Everything crisped up in his vision, and the pain subsided to a low dull in the back of his brain then. It was as if he had shifted back into the land of the living and everything greeted him with the usual obnoxiousness he had come to associate with life in general.
The two baristas looked at each other, conferring silently before Jungkook spoke, “Are you okay? You were out cold when we came in.”
“I …” Yoongi blinked and shook his head one more time, “I think so.”
He leaned forward to press his palms against the bathroom floor and pushed himself into a tentative squat before eventually standing all the way up. The blood flow readjusting in his body was the only immediate change that came with that, so the answer still stood that he was okay.
“Oh wait, Hoseok.” Yoongi pushed past the two baristas and out into the Starbucks itself.
He noticed that Hoseok was packing up his things, sliding his laptop into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. Really, he could have just said something, but being the dramatic asshole he was, he sprinted forward, coming to a halt in front of the entrance and cutting off the young man’s path.
Instead of outright confusion, Hoseok grinned widely, finding the movement quite amusing, “I thought you had been so embarrassed you escaped out the back.”
“Nope. Not at all. I just took a quick, uh, mental break.” Yoongi ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs to a more comfortable place after falling, “So we should get coffee sometime? You know, together and not separately. You can tell me what you’re always writing.”
Hoseok’s eternal smile didn’t fade for an instant, “Okay. I’m new-ish though, so I’m not sure who makes the best coffee in town.”
“Oh, well of course there’s this place that …” Yoongi trailed off as he saw Jungkook and Jimin approach him, standing a little ways away so as to not intrude directly. He looked at them both and smiled, “Actually, they make the best coffee in town.”
“Really?” Hoseok looked over his shoulder at them, “So same time tomorrow then?”
“Yeah.” Yoongi stepped aside, pushing the door open so Hoseok could leave, “I have to make a couple of apologetic calls anyways.”
And once he did, Jungkook and Jimin gave Yoongi one more concerned look before shrugging it all off and returning to the couple people that had been waiting to make their coffee orders when the two realized that Yoongi had gone missing in the bathroom.
Yoongi then walked over towards his laptop, shutting it gently and noticing that his muscles were practically screaming for him to go home like he had done a triathlon instead of falling over in a Starbucks bathroom. Hopefully it was an accident, and somebody didn’t assault him on purpose, but he was just too tired to even care about that any further.
All of his things were sloppily packed away, and he did one last stretch before starting towards the door. That’s when he caught Taehyung cleaning a table not too far away from him. He nodded towards him as he pushed at the door to leave.
“Hey!” Taehyung called.
Yoongi raised his eyebrows, turning to look at Taehyung who was smiling now.
The boy nodded at him, “Have a nice day.”
“Ah,” Yoongi blinked, turning back to the door, “Yeah, thanks. You too.”
“Sure thing,” Taehyung said nonchalantly, and Yoongi pushed outside of the door, “Hopefully you don’t run into any bandits on your way home.”
Before the sentence really sunk in, Yoongi was already outside of the coffee shop. It only took milliseconds for it to click into his brain before he realized exactly what the kid had been saying to him. He instantly turned over and looked through the window to the coffee shop where Taehyung had been cleaning a table.
But Taehyung had disappeared, leaving only a cloth on the table where he had been standing moments before.