Archive of Our Own

Crossing the river I pluck hibiscus-flowers
In the orchid-swamps are many fragrant herbs
I gather them, but who shall I send them to?
- Mei Sheng, Seventeen Old Poems

They met in a pavilion hidden by the whisper of wisteria blossoms and murmurs of summer hydrangeas.

The sweet sound of the choktae drifted by the river, accompanied by the gentle twang of kayagum strings. The soft brush of hanbok, along with the steady clap of slippers as they hurried on wooden floors, two people forsake reality to enter a floating world that belonged to them alone.

The General's son was the first to arrive. Tall, handsome, and stern, Kim Namjoon was a man who didn't allow himself to be disillusioned by notions of love. And yet he found himself there, following his heart's desire without a second thought, the moment he saw the flutter of a sleeve, the flow of silk, the deep brown-eyed stare of Goguryeo's young Crown Prince.

And not long after he arrived, the telltale swish made him look up. Clothed in black and gold, Goguryeo's most beautiful prince came into view. Without his ceremonial robes and extensive jewelry, the royal that was known as His Royal Highness Crown Prince Kim Seokjin melted away into the simpler and yet more alluring Jin. His face brightened when he saw Namjoon, who could feel the dimples on his cheeks deepening in return.

The life that he led wasn't the life he chose, but if it meant meeting the other man again, this was a life he would choose again and again.

Their gazes held as they neared each other.

"The bright moon honors me with its presence." Namjoon murmured, still so unsure of touching the other, not entirely certain if he could, if he should.

But Jin shook his head, looking up at the other. "The moon only shines so bright when the night is the darkest black." He answered, voice soft with a tentative smile, genuine, unlike the smiles he gave to everyone else.

Namjoon raised his hand, running his knuckles down a porcelain-colored cheek. Jin leaned into his touch, rough and calloused, so different from his own. "I've returned, Your Highness."

Jin reached up to press Namjoon's hand against his face, fingers tangling as Namjoon's palm cradled his cheek.

"Welcome home, Namjoon."

It was a moment, for both of them to catch their breath, to let their worries and fears melt away, to scatter like the leaves carried by the wind. Namjoon had returned later than expected, the skirmishes along their borders worsening, becoming more violent. His country needed him, and his love was waiting.

Namjoon needed to go home.

"Are you hurt?" Jin asked softly, looking at him up and down, as if trying to ascertain his love's well-being with his own two eyes. His other hand pressed against Namjoon's chest, smoothing down the intricate designs on Namjoon's outer robe.

Namjoon shook his head. He was fortunate. "I have something for you." It wasn't a planned event, and yet the moment Namjoon saw it he was immediately reminded of his love. He reached inside the folds of his sleeve, producing a thin, long box, embroidered with a golden clasp. "This is for you."

Pale, crooked hands grasped the gift carefully, a finger tracing the delicate flower designs. "You didn't have to." Brown eyes turned soft as Jin stared at the small present. "May I open it?"

"I wanted to. And you may." It was a significant step, that Jin would accept his token. As the prince, Jin had every reason to deny his gifts, just like he would with any other suitor.

But this was different. This was special.

Jin gasped quietly when the clasp came undone and he saw what it was. Inside the box was a single hair pin, an ornament made out of jade emerald, sculpted to form a branch in full boom. And near the top, a cluster of flowers resembled cherry blossoms, inlaid in white gold and rose quartz. "This is…"

"It's fine if you don't wear it." Namjoon knew that Jin was always seen, always scrutinized. It was better if they didn't invite too many questions. "But when I saw it, I immediately thought of you." It was an expensive gift, and the one thing Namjoon bought that was more costly than its use. But the thought of the accessory pinned on Jin's dark colored hair brought an inexplicable joy and contentment.

Jin took the moment to compose himself. Despite his stature, this was the first time he had received such a special gift. Silently he held the box aloft, both gratified and humbled.

"Namjoon, will you put this on me?" Jin asked softly, before he lost the nerve to accept.

Namjoon hesitated, not well versed in these kinds of things, but nevertheless picked the hair ornament up carefully, aware of his clumsy hands and the precious cargo he held. With great care, he leaned forward and pushed the pin into Jin's hair.

Jin's eyes were closed, fluttering open as he felt the long stick weave through his locks, tugging lightly against his scalp. He tilted his head and smiled, the ornament a sparkling eye-catcher on his hair.

"Well? How does it look like?"

Namjoon stared, speechless, one word slipping from his tongue.

"Beautiful."

The prince laughed, cheeks pinking in embarrassment, peering up at Namjoon shyly.

In the distance, the wisteria blossoms bloomed, dotting the landscape with color and life.

Namjoon paced around outside the royal sleeping quarters, asking the guards to give him some time alone to himself. He was decked out in his most lavish and elaborate regalia, showing his stature as an important part of the noble court, and it was an important day for everyone.

It was Kim Seokjin's coronation day, and the entire capital was cordially invited.

How was he? How was he holding up? Was he nervous? Was he excited? Was he having second thoughts? Namjoon was already resigned to the fact that he would have Seokjin in his every waking thought, but at that moment, it was almost unbearable.

The former King, Kim Seokjin's father, was taken away from them too soon. And now the country would be in the hands of a young, inexperienced king barely out of his adolescence. The advisors were already circling, waiting to gain Jin's favor and ear and to be honest, Namjoon hated it.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Jin was supposed to take the crown much later, when his father died from living a long, fruitful life, not like this. Namjoon was supposed to be in the borders still, patrolling as a soldier and not dressed up to take his father's place as Jin's official protector.

The doors opened, and the maids and servants came out, quickly bowing to Namjoon and exiting when they were given leave. Jin was finished dressing. They were waiting.

Namjoon had to know if Jin was okay. Just for a little while.

He quickly, surreptitiously checked for anyone, and it was fortunately deserted. Silently he entered the royal quarters, into the waiting room, closing the door behind him. From here he could already see Jin's silhouette from the paper doors, staying absolutely still, most probably dressed in clothes fit for a new king. Namjoon wondered how he looked like.

He had to be quick, they could be called out any minute and he didn't fancy getting caught sneaking into the king's personal rooms.

He approached the doors slowly, the creak of the wood alerting Jin of his presence.

"… I requested to be alone." Jin said, voice barely strong to carry over to the other side, and it made Namjoon's heart ache. "Is it time?"

Namjoon took a deep breath. "… It's me, Jin."

The change was immediate. Jin turned his head towards the door, the shadow moving with him. Namjoon stood directly in front of the door as Jin moved slowly, bulky and slow because of all his ornaments and layers, meeting him on the other side.

"Namjoon?" Jin whispered through the screen, voice muffled and so small. Namjoon wanted to go inside, to comfort him, but they both knew he couldn't. "Is that you?"

"It's me." The creak of the screen door moving made Namjoon panic.

"Don't!" He put a hand on the edge before it completely opened, almost breaking the screen in the process. It clearly startled Jin, who let go immediately. Namjoon could feel his cheeks burning. "It's not that I—It's just that—"

"Tradition. I know." Jin sighed, exasperated and fond all the same. "You almost broke the door. Again. I just opened the door so I can hear you better. What are you doing here? What if you were caught?"

Namjoon pressed his head against the door, the wooden grain rough on his temple. He exhaled. "I took the chance. I just… I wanted to talk to you. Before the ceremony."

"Oh." Jin's voice changed, and it was only through years of knowing him that Namjoon knew how terrified Jin was. They both knew this was a drastic change, especially for Jin, who knew his duty and what his future was, but didn't expect that day to come so soon.

A week ago, he was still a prince. Now, he was going to lead an entire nation.

This was the start of a different life, for both of them.

A quiet thump was heard as Jin leaned against the door, then sliding down to the floor. "…Namjoon?"

"Jin?"

"What if I can't do it? What if I fail? What if I become a terrible king?" Jin asked softly, his nails softly scratching against the wood. "What I die too early and Taehyung sits on the throne? What if I make the people suffer? I can't do this, I can't, it's too soon, I don't know what to do, Namjoon. I—" Jin stopped, the air thickening for one moment before he huffed in frustration.

Namjoon didn't know what to say. Not really. Jin had been groomed for this moment the moment he was born, and the burden, the responsibility, was immense. Namjoon lowered himself eventually, sitting on the floor, leaning on the door as he waited for Jin to speak.

"… I never wanted to be king." Jin confessed softly. Namjoon always had an inkling, but now he didn't know what to feel, hearing the confirmation. "I just wanted to live a simple life. With you, with Tae. But I knew." His breath hitched. "That one day my father will be gone and I would sit on the throne and decide our futures. Mine. Yours. Tae's. Everyone's."

Namjoon frowned, concerned. "Jin..."

"Would you want to rule, Namjoon?" Jin interrupted. "If it was you, in my place."

The question threw him off. Namjoon had grown with the knowledge of what his place was in this country, in this world, and he had never questioned it. Not when Jin needed him to be there, not when he could do so much to help Jin, to protect him and everyone he loved.

It was what was required of him. It was what he needed to do, and it didn't matter, in the end.

He answered honestly, because he never lied to Jin, and he wouldn't stop now. "If it was me... I wouldn't ask anyone to do it in my place."

Jin, despite everything, laughed quietly. "Of course you wouldn't. You've never ran away from your duty, and you wouldn't start now."

Namjoon didn't say anything immediately. "Are you scared?"

A harsh inhale of breath.

"I don't want to fail." It was whispered so softly that even Namjoon wouldn't hear it if he wasn't waiting for it. "I don't want to be branded as a king that abandoned his people, that didn't do everything he can to make his people happy. I don't want to be a puppet to people who just wanted power, and I don't want to be a tyrant. I've already lost my father. I... I don't want to lose the life I've known."

It broke Namjoon's heart to hear that. Never has he wished more desperately that he could hold Jin until that moment. "… Would it help if I said that I'm scared too?"

"You're never scared of anything." Jin said immediately.

Namjoon slowly shook his head, moving the door enough that Jin could feel the action.

"I'm scared of a lot of things. I'm scared of going away and finding out through a letter that you've been killed. I'm scared of failing my duty to you and the soldiers who're serving this country. I'm scared of giving an order to people when it could cost them their lives. I'm scared that I won't be a good enough soldier for you, a good advisor, that one day you'll die and I'll be left behind. I'm scared of losing everything, Jin."

He paused.

"I'm scared of losing you."

Silence.

"... Do you want to leave? Just go somewhere, just the two of us?"

Namjoon laughed, both genuine and startled. "I'm fairly certain we won't get far."

"We can go to a different country, start a new life." Finally Jin sounded a little more cheerful, a little less upset. "We can start a farm, and I can still learn how to do work. I've always wanted to learn how to cook." He said, a little wistful. "We could raise animals and go to the market and sleep together in the same blanket. We could live like that. Just us."

Namjoon sighed, also a little wistful, because it sounded wonderful. Coming home to see Jin cooking for him, spending their days in a little house, tending to their crops and livestock, watching the stars together, walking through the streets normally, just like anyone else.

He leaned his head on the screen, fingers pressing against the spot he knew Jin's back would be. "Just say it and I'll take you away from here. We could do that. We can, Jin. If you say it."

It was a serious offer. And he knew Jin realized it. And the offer was terribly tempting, to be away from here, to live a life they dictated for themselves, to enjoy what they had without the pressure and burdens placed on their shoulders.

But Jin sighed gently. "There are things I wouldn't wish upon someone else. This is one of them."

Because if Jin took Namjoon's hand, if they left, they had to face the consequences of those actions.

Including the people they would hurt, their loved ones they would give additional pain to.

Most especially the new, younger king that would sit in the throne Jin would abdicate, alone, terrified, vulnerable.

"You'll regret it." Namjoon said, half-joking, half-serious still. "You'll be hurt."

"Better me than an innocent. I've been raised for this, Namjoon." Jin said, voice soft, but resolute. "I've been preparing my whole life for this moment. It would be a shame if I missed it."

Namjoon's heart throbbed, filled with so much fierce love and adoration he almost didn't know what to do with it.

He would follow this man to death and beyond.

He opened the door a little wider, letting in more light through the gap.

"Joon?" Jin's voice turned to confusion.

"I know. I'm not going to come in." Namjoon said quickly, pushing his sleeves back carefully so it wouldn't crease. Slowly, he slipped his hand through the gap on the door, palm up.

Jin still sounded confused. "What are you doing?"

"I just… I need to touch you. Let me, Jin. Please." It sounded terrible, but Namjoon refused to let his cheeks burn.

A beat. Namjoon waited, shoulders tense, breath stopping.

Eventually, a soft, paler hand covered his own, crooked fingers lacing against his own hesitantly.

Jin's hand was trembling.

"It's all right, Jin." Namjoon's thumb caressed the side of the king's hand. The simplicity of the gesture was enough. He knew this hand, having touched and held it for the longest time that he knew where bends and waves were, the dedication and hard work it went through, the lives it could destroy and save in the future.

And he was never letting it go, not until Jin told him to let go. "You will make a wonderful king. And I'll be with you, until the end."

Namjoon tilted his head to the empty room, looking at the door to the outside with a smitten smile.

"I won't let go, Jin. I promise."

Slowly, eventually, the pale hand stilled, and curled against his own.

"… Thank you."

During the mornings, Jin would sometimes catch Namjoon as he was about to leave the palace to do his rounds in the city.

When that happens, Jin would usually stand on the balcony overlooking the front courtyard, waiting until Namjoon's retinue exited the gates and disappeared from sight. And Jin would remain there, unmoving, letting the soldiers greet him and say their salutations, until he knew Namjoon was safely on his way. And only then could he relax and go back inside to continue his day.

It was an embarrassingly sentimental, and admittedly, risky thing to do, to see Namjoon off like it was a wistfully romantic moment. There was one time that Jin barely made it to the balcony, only to see Namjoon still in the courtyard, fixing his horse's saddle, and adjusting the stirrups. His eyes eventually found Jin, who was once again in his usual place.

As Jin continued to stand there, Namjoon kept looking back at him, an eyebrow raising in question as Namjoon's lips curved up into a teasing and affectionate smile.

It said so many things in that short time span.

You're beautiful.

I'm all right.

Don't worry, I'll be back soon.

What am I going to do with you?

Jin could only smile apologetically, and a little sheepishly, but remained where he was.

And later on, as the horses were saddled and Namjoon mounted his stallion, he cocked his head, still smiling, and asked another silent question.

What are you still doing there? You look silly.

Namjoon was right. There really wasn't any logic to it. Jin knew as well as any other person that Namjoon was capable of defending himself, and certainly needed no supervision, especially not from someone like him. And yes, maybe he did look silly, standing there like an idiot waiting for Namjoon to finish his preparations and watch him on his way.

The entire significance of it all was possibly lost on Namjoon. But it didn't really matter, that Jin needed to see him to safety. It was a terrible habit, and undeniably affectionate, but people often do silly things when it came to the matters of the heart.

If Namjoon thought that it was silly, let him. Jin would be silly everyday if he had to, just to watch Namjoon disappear from a distance and be assured that he was all right.

When asked, His Majesty Kim Seokjin would not admit to his silliness.

Because no one else needed to know.

Not when Namjoon already knew.

"Hyungnim. You're staring." Taehyung murmured with a wicked grin, murmuring into Jin's ear as a servant filled their glasses with soju. "He looks good tonight too."

"Shush, Taehyung." Jin muttered back, inclining his head as the dancing finished with a flourish and everyone clapped, thoroughly entertained. The performers bowed deeply, and Jin gave the customary clap, as Jin thanked them for their work and sending them off to enjoy the rest of the festival. "Remember your manners."

"But it's boring," the younger prince whined, and Jin resisted the urge to roll his eyes, maintaining his blank expression with well-cultivated patience.

Kim Taehyung had always been a handful, enjoying the privilege and freedom that a prince had, and none of the responsibility that came from being an heir to the throne. They shared a father, but Taehyung was born from his father's concubine, while Jin was the son of the Queen Consort.

But despite this, Jin loved his younger brother terribly, and would do everything he could to make sure his brother lived a peaceful life.

Even if he was a royal pain most of the time.

"Kim Taehyung, stay still." Jin warned, had a firm grip on the other's wrist, preventing him from leaving the table in the middle of another dance.

"But hyunggggggg—"

"The whole court is looking at us!" Jin hissed, seeing some of the Lords' heads turned in their direction. He could already visualize the disapproving looks they were being given. "You're a prince! Know your place!"

Whatever Taehyung had to retort was stopped when someone behind them cleared his throat, causing the brothers to look behind.

Taehyung immediately brightened.

"Namjoon-hyungnim!"

"Your Majesty." Namjoon bowed at Seokjin, eyes alight with humor, before turning to Taehyung, who never looked happier to see him at the moment. "Prince Taehyung. Your presence is requested by Lord Yook and Lord Park."

"Stop encouraging him." Jin sighed as Taehyung immediately stood up and took the offered escape, leaving Jin behind at the table. "He needs to learn propriety and etiquette. He will need to sit through the royal court and future audiences in the future."

"While that may be true, who was it that begged me to deliver a note to Lord Jaewhan so he could ask His Majesty to accompany him in town?" Namjoon asked with continued amusement, taking his place behind Jin as if it had always been his in the first place. "Don't forget those lavish excursions with Lord Sandeul in the markets, when he is in the capital."

Jin colored at the reminder, the pink of his skin blooming against the lavish color of his hanbok. "You promised to keep those to yourself."

"And..." Namjoon continued, as if not hearing the King, leaning close to murmur in Jin's ear, lips almost brushing against skin. "What about those moonlight excursions with me?"

Jin would have swatted Namjoon in the head if they weren't in a public place, the shade of his cheeks turning a deeper red. From a distance, it could easily be assumed it was from the continuous drinks, but both of them definitely knew better.

"Don't be impudent, Kim Namjoon." Jin said lowly, throwing Namjoon a quick glare. "I may just order you scrub the palace walls for a month."

Namjoon smiled widely, unrepentant. "I'm willing to take any punishment if it's Your Majesty's wish."

Despite himself, a smile was forcing its way to Jin's lips. "Cheeky brat."

"And," Namjoon continued serenely, as if Jin hadn't spoken in the first place, "I will take the Prince's place in keeping Your Majesty company. That is, if my presence is wanted?" He asked a tad too innocently, lips curling up in a smirk when Jin shot an annoyed look at him.

But Namjoon's hand was pressing gently behind his arm, hidden by the voluminous sleeves of Jin's robes, an assuring and warm touch. It relaxed Jin immediately, knowing Namjoon was beside him, because he preferred Namjoon's presence than anyone in this world, even more than the brother he loved so much.

"I'll get you for this, Kim Namjoon." Jin muttered, but not before raising his hand and letting Namjoon pour some soju for him, the rest of the night infinitely more bearable.

"Again! Stand up! What do you think you're doing?!"

Jin paused in his writing, hearing Namjoon shout outside in the courtyard. It wasn't often that Namjoon sounded that frustrated, but as he tried to remember how much time had passed, he realized that it was about that time of the year.

Perhaps it was a bad idea to have his study so close to the courtyard, the soldiers' training area, but it was a price he was willing to pay, if it meant knowing Namjoon was in closer proximity. Besides, he too was invested on the future of their country, and in this manner he could monitor the level and skill of their army, which was a necessity in a time of warfare.

Often, the sounds of training men were not a bother at all. In fact, it was soothing, a reminder of the bustling life in the palace. It made him feel assured that progress was being made, even in small increments.

And disrupting his advisors when their meetings were getting too long were just pleasant additions.

When Namjoon yelled again, Jin stood up, alerting his servants who were standing at the corner, coming forward and awaiting orders.

"Come. I shall see what is causing the General distress."

Jin was greeted with sweaty, half-naked bodies strewn all over the grounds, when he came out to the courtyard. Some of them were clustered in small groups, panting, fragile, exhausted, while others were wary, afraid, staring at the lone, tall man standing with an expression reserved for a vengeful, wrathful god. 

And there was Namjoon, holding a wooden sword in his hand as he looked down at the young trainees, disappointed and unimpressed.

It's a shame that Namjoon was still clothed, Jin thought with slight disappointment, approaching the group. Instantly Namjoon seemed to be aware of his presence, catching his eye immediately.

There was no change in his expression, no smile, but Namjoon's eyes darkened, pupils dilating and gaze softening with pure affection. Jin felt his gaze softening in turn, and it was just a brief moment, before Namjoon was turning to the group once more.

"Stand up! Attention! HIs Majesty is in our presence!"

The young men scrambled to obey, standing in line like young foals trying to gain their footing, and Jin lifted his sleeve to his mouth to hide the quiet laugh he wasn't able to suppress in time.

"YOUR MAJESTY!"

"At ease." Jin said, once he had regained his composure, observing the men for a brief moment before addressing Namjoon. "You seem to be distressed, General. I could hear you shouting from my study. Is something the matter?" He asked, casual but with a thread of amusement.

Namjoon looked chagrined before bowing low. Jin knew Namjoon was genuinely apologetic, even if he would tease the man about this later on, in private. "I apologize for the disturbance, Your Majesty. It was not my intention to cause concern and draw attention."

"Nevertheless, you already have my attention, General." Jin had to quirk a smile to himself at that, of how much of that statement was the truth. Namjoon's ears pinked a little. Adorable. "Are these recruits not up to standard, then?" Namjoon stiffened imperceptibly to everyone but him, and Jin had to stop from sighing.

As much as he assured Namjoon that it was all right to take things slowly, Namjoon had always been devoted to his duties and responsibilities, almost zealously so. As hard as he was on these young men, Jin knew, and was the sole witness to, Namjoon's stricter expectations on himself.

"It's unsightly for you to see my men like this, but I assure you I will have them whipped into shape soon, Your Majesty." The recruits were already shaking in their boots, staring at Namjoon fearfully, and Jin feels some sympathy for them.

"General, I do not expect you to give me battle-hardened soldiers so soon." He said, voice kind. "I'd rather have a river wear a stone, slowly and gradually with time, than shaped by force with hammers and chisels. Yes, we are at war, but mastery does not come with haste, and I intend to finish this war as soon as I can. They will be fine soldiers, General. I have no doubt of that."

Slowly, eventually, Namjoon's shoulders loses the tension it had. "... I understand, Your Majesty." He said, almost soft, and Jin would have cradled Namjoon's cheek in comfort if it weren't for the fact that they were being watched.

By now, the trainees were looking at Jin with undisguised awe, and it always threw Jin off, to realize how much power his words had. He felt somewhat terrible, scolding Namjoon in front of his men, but it served to let them know that their General was as human as the rest of them. It will bring them closer, and Namjoon would be less frustrated with himself.

"I think half of the men in that group see you as a god now." Namjoon told him later that night, in the privacy of Jin's private quarters. Only the closest candles were lit, and Namjoon's head was on Jin's lap, both of them wearing nothing but thin robes.

"Is that so?" Jin hummed, running a comb through Namjoon's dark hair. "You need to be less strict with yourself, Namjoon. I do not expect perfection from you, only results." Jin continued, fingers curling to arrange Namjoon's hair neatly down his shoulders. "You're already doing well. You've already faced countless battles, and came back to me every time." Moving down, a brief kiss to sooth the crease in Namjoon's brow.

Namjoon's dark eyes peered up at him, his hand reaching up to touch Jin's cheek briefly. "You are more than I deserve." He said quietly. "I only want to protect the man that holds my heart in his hands. Don't fault me for that."

Jin's heart, against his will, fluttered in his chest. "I know, Namjoon. But I'm not leaving any time soon, and neither will you." His crooked fingers slipped in between the slit in Namjoon's robe, pressing his hand against an area with raised, bumpy skin. "I will not let our country suffer for long. I will end this war as soon as I can, and I will bring you home again soon."

Namjoon entered the room without ceremony, slamming the door open and startling everyone else but Jin, who was waiting for his arrival. The attendants and guards were struck silent, suddenly aware of the tension that suddenly appeared in the room. Namjoon's face was blank, but it was simply the calm before the storm.

"General, what do you think you are doing—?!" One adviser interjected, but Jin raised a hand. He fell silent.

"Everyone, leave us." Jin said, not getting up from his seat until everyone has left, until both of them were sure that it was just the two of them, here in this expansive room that suddenly felt too small for them both.

Jin looked up and faced his lover calmly, staring directly into his eyes. He didn't have to ask.

"You know."

Namjoon's tightened into a fist. "Because apparently I don't have the privilege of hearing it from you."

That stung, but Jin kept himself composed. "You knew this was going to happen, both of us did. This is the only way we can stop the war—"

"That's not the point!" Namjoon's hands slammed on the table, suddenly closer, suddenly looming over Jin and Jin instantly feels smaller. "I know my duty to you! To this country! I know what you need to do!" Namjoon's breath was ragged, eyes brimming with fire and brimstone and it was all Jin could do to not burn and melt. "I wanted to hear it from you! You've been planning this all this time and you never told me!" Namjoon drew back, standing at attention, jaw set, fists shaking, eyes glassy as he looked to the side.

"I know my place, Jin. I've known all my life. The least you could do is not lie to me."

Jin's heart broke.

"... I'm sorry." He whispered, finally standing up and going around the desk, stopping just shy of grasping Namjoon's sleeve. He pulled his hand back, continued to stare at Namjoon even if Namjoon refused to look at him. "I didn't want to hurt you."

EIther way, Namjoon would be hurt, but at least, with Jin's honesty, he would be hurt less. This was a moment they both knew was coming, that was as inevitable as the sunrise and sunset.

The damage was done.

"Who?" Namjoon asked, his whisper breaking the long silence in the room.

Jin closed his eyes. "... Lady Hyosang of House Jin."

A gust of wind, and the sound of something hard, splintering and breaking wood. Jin gasped, as Namjoon pulled his fist back, taking bits and pieces of wood with him.

"Namjoon!" Jin said, in alarm, in shock, reaching for his hand, but Namjoon pulled back.

Blood was dripping to the floor.

"When?"

"We can talk about this later, Namjoon, your hand is bleeding—!"

"When?!"

Jin stopped, eyes wide, watching the man he loved breaking but still trying so hard not to, and the truth spilled from his lips.

"... A month."

Without another word Namjoon pushed JIn aside and went out the room, pulling the wooden door aside, frame rattling in the slide.

"Namjoon!" Jin tried to chase after him, but his legs wouldn't move, and he could only watch as Namjoon left, tripping over the door panel that made Jin's heart twist in love and desperation, watching Namjoon walk away without a single glance back.

Slowly, Jin slid to the floor, stared at Namjoon's blood, bright red against the dark wood, and cried.

"Sometimes I wish I was born a woman, then I realize later that being born as a man was better."

"What? Namjoon, you're so strange sometimes. What brought that on, suddenly?"

"No, just… if I was a woman, I could have been your future Queen and we could have been together differently."

"... Oh. Oh, Namjoon…"

Laughter. "I mean…  we could have a family. I would give birth to our child, raise him or her to be the future ruler of this country, and I could stay by your side freely. No secrets. No hiding. Just us."

"But t-that's— ! Um, I-I mean…"

"Then I think about it more. If I was a woman, I wouldn't be able to protect you. I wouldn't be able to march through our lands and carry your hopes and dreams for a peaceful country. I would always be the one waiting for you to come home, and while I know that raising children is an honorable and respectable task, I wouldn't be happy with that. I'm glad then, that I was born like this. So I can protect you and everything I hold dear."

"... Namjoon, you complete and utter idiot."

"Wh–mmph!"

…

"Don't… don't say things that would make me fall for you more. Idiot."

"... Sorry."

"And don't worry. Me having a Queen wouldn't change anything between us."

"... R-Really? Do you mean that, Jin?"

"Of course. Namjoon…  in the eyes that matter, I am yours as you are mine. Till death do us part."

"I'm aware that this is a marriage without tender feelings, Your Majesty." Lady Hyosang said, making Jin glance at her as they walked along the palace pond. "However, as your chosen wife and future Queen, I will do my duty to you and this country, and ensure you will have an heir to keep your bloodline secure for the next generation."

She reminded him so much of Namjoon. Jin looked ahead, into the tranquil and silent water, and tired to ignore the throbbing pain in his chest. "Thank you, in return, for accepting my suit. You will make a good Queen. With our union, our families will be allied, and your family's support during this war will be invaluable." There was no doubt of that. She was smart, beautiful, and came from a noble family that supported his reign. It was a good match and a good alliance for everyone involved. Jin knelt down and plucked a white water lily from its stem, offering it to her.

"Who in their right mind would refuse a King? It is in my good fortune, I suppose, that my family is blessed with wealth and well-trained soldiers." She said with a wry smile on her face, accepting the gift graciously. "But then again, Your Majesty," she glanced at him, "you have some experience with that, do you not?"

Jin saw her eyes slide towards his back, where Namjoon and a few guards were staying a few meters away, far enough to not eavesdrop, but close enough to see any interactions. Women were such intuitive creatures, and Jin didn't know whether or not to be relieved or annoyed that he was seen through so easily.

In another life, Jin would have been happy and content to fall in love with Hyosang.

But that life did not exist.

"Yes." He said simply, offering his elbow, leading her to the pavilion with her hand tucked under his arm. Could feel the eyes raking on his back, the hot glare on the area where he and Hyosang touched. "Heartbreak is not something I can recommend to anyone."

"Have you come to bid me goodbye?"

It was the night before the ceremony. Late enough that the moon was already high up the sky, that no soul was stirring except for the King and his General, meeting under the familiar darkness of the night.

But now it was different.

Jin watched him from the mirror, standing by the door, in full armor. He didn't turn back, reaching up to slide the jade ornament off his hair, the cherry blossoms warm by the candlelight. He reached for a comb, working on the tangles and snarls slowly, not quite able to hide the tremble in his hands.

"... Yes." Namjoon's hold on his helmet tightened. "I apologize for not being able to attend the ceremony, but Baekje is rallying their forces and I am needed at the battlelines. It is the best way to ensure the ceremony will go through as planned and our borders to remain untouched."

If Jin slammed the comb harder than the usual, they both didn't mention it. Jin glanced at the hairpin on the table, worn out a little by age and use, and reached for it, held it like the most precious treasure he owned.

"I remember when you first gave me this." He said softly. It was beautiful day, not too hot, not too cold, just the perfect day for a perfect meeting. He stood up, approached Namjoon slowly, close enough to touch, but never close enough. "Do you remember that day, Namjoon?"

Never again.

Namjoon looked at him then, for the first time in a long, long while, and Jin ached. Missed him so, so much. Even when Namjoon was beside him, Jin missed him so much. "... I remember." I would never forget.

Slowly, tentatively, Jin reached out, stopped a hairsbreadth away from Namjoon's skin.

He swallowed, trying to find the right words, if there were words he could say. He had hurt Namjoon so deeply, so completely. It felt like a part of him was ripped away, and he didn't know how he managed to go through a day without screaming and crying.

"I'm so sorry." Jin gasped, a whisper that made the candlelight flicker, his eyes suddenly warm and moist, blurring. "I'm sorry I have to do this, that I can't stay beside you, that I can't love you like you deserved."

Namjoon didn't answer, but the desperation and anguish as he pulled Jin into his arms were unmistakable.

Dimly, Jin heard the sound of shattering glass, but he didn't care.

And Jin closed his eyes, responding the only way he knew how, let himself be consumed by Namjoon's heat, bodies molding like how they've always fitted together. Their breaths mingled, their grips tightened. Something hot and wet trailed down his cheeks, and Namjoon kissed them away, so tenderly and gently Jin would have crumbled if it wasn't for Namjoon's hands holding him together.

Goodbye.

At their feet, pieces of the shattered emerald and rose quartz glinted in the candlelight.

To my General,

I hope that this letter finds you well, and that you are in good health. As much as I would like to tell you to come back to the capital, and tell you your duty is done, there is much, still, that needs to be done. Baekje is still testing our borders, to see if they can take our country for their own, and I will not let that happen. I am a young king, yes, but I am not weak. I cannot afford to be, not when my people and my country need me.

I have heard that you have been injured during the last skirmish.

Are you all right? Are you sa—

Rest well, General, and be prepared, for I still need you to be my sword and shield. You are our best and brightest mind, General Kim, our best defense against a future that will be wrought with great sadness and pain. And just as you continue to reward my faith, I shall do the same, and will protect our country to the best of my abilities.

Our country needs you still. I know you will not let me down.

Continue as you are, and surely, one day sooner, you will be home again, victorious and safe.

A small bird also delivers a message, alongside this letter. While unorthodox, a King realizes the pain and desperation of a young one who afraid for their beloved. It is my hope that you will find strength from this bird, who waits for your return.

His Majesty

I send my kisses to the wind, and pray they caress your cheeks.

Please stay safe. Come home soon.

Jin

To His Majesty,

I hope this letter finds you well. We are managing well, and we have been victorious today. It is my regret to tell you that we have lost more men today than others, but just as your ordered, Your Majesty, their names have been enclosed separately with the names of their remaining family members. They will be honored tonight, and what bodies we can find and return, we will give an honorable funeral.

I apologize if I had concerned His Majesty with the news of my injury. I am still capable of fighting, and I am healing well. Your Majesty has ordered me to keep our country safe, and I will follow that order until my dying breath.

Your Majesty has also personally ordered me to come back alive, and while these two orders are contradictory, I shall endeavor to fulfill both to the best of my abilities.

You have my word that I will return victorious, with our country safe. My country, my people, and my King need me still. My loyalty will never waver, and I will always be your sword and shield.

Also, I thank you for delivering the small bird's message. It is, indeed, a comfort and a relief to know how much I will be missed. I plead for His Majesty to care for this little bird well, for they're also important to me and holds a place close to my heart.

Until you write again,

General Kim

I felt the wind on my face today.

I'm still coming home. Wait for me.

Namjoon

It took five years.

With Hyosang's family's money and influence, the tides of the war turned in their favor. Jin was tireless, working on finishing the war with Baekje with a single-minded ferocity reserved only for his enemies.

He would bring Namjoon home safely, come hell or high water.

And if Jin almost collapsed multiple times when he heard any news of Namjoon being severely injured, or being close to death, it was a secret the four walls of his study would keep.

Sometimes, Namjoon dreamed.

He knew he did, like everyone else. But his dreams were like liquid smoke, visible to the naked eye and dispersing once his fingertips touched them. Perhaps it was a good thing that his dreams were never that vivid, considering the life he led.

His dreams always left impressions of blood and violence, terrifying and chilling to the bone when he woke up from them. There was a stifled scream on his lips, jaw locked ferociously as his body was drawn tight, ready to fight whatever he faced in his sleep. Once or twice, he woke up with tears in his eyes, not knowing the reason for them.

It was something he never told anyone, and no one suspected.

Those kinds of dreams always came after a particular battle or skirmish, brutal enough for even him to sustain various injuries. They would eventually fade in time, but Namjoon would at times wake up in the middle of the night for a straight week, unable to scream, unable to move, just lying there with a racing heart and cold sweat dripping down his face.

Tonight was one of those times.

He inhaled sharply as he opened his eyes; seeing the blank ceiling above him, right shoulder screaming in pain. With a pained hiss he sat up gingerly, lighting the candle by his bed, to examine his wounds properly. It opened in the night, bleeding profusely, the bandages a dark red and spreading. The bandages spread to his chest, where thankfully it didn't open up, but moving was still a terribly painful experience. His throat ached as he tugged at the knots with his left hand, teeth gritting against the pain.

He couldn't remember moving in the night.

Just as he managed to get one knot undone the doors opened, and there Jin was, unkempt, in his sleeping clothes, eyes bright and alert as they stared at each other.

"Your Majesty." Immediately Namjoon straightened out, despite the sudden flash of tear-inducing pain. He barely just managed to keep his straight expression, the paleness of his skin the only indication of his hidden pain.

"Let me see." Jin said briskly, closing the doors behind him and kneeling behind him, swiftly undoing the ties at the back.

"Your Majesty, you don't have to—" Namjoon tried to intervene.

"Be quiet." The steel in the King's voice immediately made Namjoon quiet down, letting the man do as he wished. "Lean forward a bit."

They both kept silent as the bandages slowly unraveled, showing the healing scar, one large slash cutting through his entire back. The shoulder wound was a newer injury, a result of Namjoon's recklessness and complete devotion.

If he didn't take that cut, the man behind him might not still be King right now.

Namjoon kept his breaths even, trying not to immerse himself with the pain each tug at the cloth made. He didn't regret what he had to do, it was his duty, but he had caused Jin pain. Keeping the royal family alive and his country safe was his job, his purpose, and losing their young King would hurt the country terribly.

Would hurt Namjoon the most, would break his heart irreparably, and it was a future he refused to come to fruition. 

Namjoon noticed that Jin's fingers had stopped, fingertips just hovering above the raised skin of his new scar.

"… Your Majesty?"

Slowly, eventually, Namjoon felt the press of damp skin against his own tender flesh, and he gave a start, stilling when soft, calloused hands pressed itself against his lower back. The brush of hair between his shoulder blades tickled, and Namjoon's heart lurched in his chest.

"… I thought you were dead."

A whisper, making the still air between them tremble, reverberating around them. Jin's hands trembled, and Namjoon's chest ached, wishing he could turn around, see the expression on Jin's face.

Oh.

"… I don't regret it." The bandages pooled at his hips. Namjoon could feel the cotton on his back, the breaths that synchronized with his own. "But I'm sorry."

"You're not allowed to do that again." Jin said lowly. Nails scratched against his skin, breaths heaving as something wet slid down cooling skin. "I'm making it an order. Once was enough." The mention of it was enough to lift Namjoon's uninjured arm, touching the patch over his right eye where his sight would never be the same again.

"You can't stop me from doing my duty, Your Majesty."

"Stop it." Jin's voice was harsh. "Don't call me that."

Namjoon paused, considered.

As hands moved to settle around his waist, Namjoon pulled him closer, shuddering just slightly at the lips pressing lightly on his open wound.

"… As you wish, Jin."

He was content in chasing dreams and waking up with nothing. He was allowed to see this. Here he could touch a dream, and it wouldn't disappear.

Just once. Just this night.

When Namjoon came home, it was to people lining up the streets, waving and greeting him and his men the moment they went through the city gates. Men and women were cheering or them, throwing flowers as they trudged to the palace, bone-weary and exhausted. Namjoon had seen enough horrors to last him a lifetime, but all of his actions didn't matter, not when home welcomed him back with open arms.

The surviving men were all smiles despite their exhaustion, spirits lifted up and filled with joy. Namjoon couldn't blame them, all of them had people to return to: family, spouses, lovers, children. He too, had someone to go home to, and touched the pouch slung around his waist, making sure the package inside was intact and untouched.

As they entered the palace walls, the swell of people seem to fill the courtyard completely, still cheering, others sobbing in relief. They had lost men, it was an inevitability of war, and Namjoon had to harden his heart, to make sure he carried the burden of the lives of the soldiers that he wasn't able to protect.

They lined up in the middle of the courtyard, Namjoon going down his horse slowly to face his King. Jin… hadn't changed at all. Still so beautiful, so unreachable, with the Queen at his side and the entirely noble court bearing witness to their homecoming.

Jin raised a hand to quiet the crowd, silent, lips turned in a smile and eyes brimming with warmth and relief. It was so apparent would it be any other time Namjoon would have been concerned with how blatant Jin was being, but not here.

Not now.

At once, they all bowed, their voices echoing throughout the courtyard.

"We come home victorious, Your Majesty!"

"Welcome home, my soldiers!" Jin shouted, and the crowd's cheers rose in pitch and volume. "I am honored to welcome your weary bodies but brave hearts back home. I will not draw this out. I know most of you would only like to see your friends and loved ones. Rest, and be at peace. You are home, and you are safe. Thank you for your service, because your efforts have ensured our country's children will sleep without trouble for the years to come. There will be a banquet in your honor, in the coming days. But for now, your families are here and they are waiting. Meet them, and go home." Jin inclined his head, and the crowd dispersed, soldiers meeting their respective loved ones.

It was a happy event. Husbands meeting their wives and children, young men meeting their lovers, friends and families. Namjoon went up the stairs to meet his younger sister and mother, who cradled his face in her wrinkled hands and cried with relief and pride. Namjoon glanced around, but Jin was gone, alongside his entourage.

However, there was a letter waiting for him at home, as he changed back into normal clothes, one that had him grabbing the pouch by his armor and tripping over his feet as he left his family estate in a rush.

They met in a pavilion hidden by the whisper of the approaching autumn wind and murmurs of the falling leaves.

The gentle sound of the water trickling down the river, accompanied by the lilting melody of kayagum strings. The heavy drag of hanbok, along with the distinguishable stomp of boots as they walked steadily on wooden floors, two people live in a reality that was painful, excruciating, and happy. The floating world was a faraway dream that was as fleeting as the seasons passed, and it was a world that never really existed.

Kim Namjoon slowly came up, shoulders proud and dignified, face slightly weathered by hardship and pain. The dimples in his cheeks deepened when he saw the person inside the pavilion, steps steady and sure, approaching the young man who was the first to arrive.

There were no words, just the tentative meeting of mouths, rough, calloused palms gently cupping elbows as pale, crooked fingers ran through Namjoon's wild, untamed hair.

"I'm home."

"Welcome home, Namjoon." Jin murmured against his lips, pulling back, fingertips tracing the changes in Namjoon's face, thumb stroking a tanned, lightly scarred cheek. Jin was still the most beautiful in Namjoon's eyes, was swept away by it, completely in thrall with his love and romance. "WIth everything that has happened, I'm only grateful that you came back to me. Thank you." A press of lips on Namjoon's mouth, his face lovingly held in the same soft hands.

"Even if I'm not handsome anymore?" Namjoon asked, half-joking, closing one eyelid as Jin traced the lingering scar over his eye. He held Jin's wrists loosely, felt Jin's fleeting pulse under his fingertips. "Look at me, Jin. I've aged so much." And he had. He didn't have the face of youth anymore, a result of years of bathing in blood and violence. Namjoon's eyes would always be haunted by memories Jin would never be able to understand, with deeper lines and lighter hair as his innocence was completely stripped away.

But Jin shook his head. "Not aged, Namjoon." He leaned forward, cheek pressing against Namjoon's shoulder as Namjoon held him, supported him as he always had. "Matured. Distinguished. You've grown. We both have." They breathed as one, realizing how short their time was. Namjoon pressed a kiss to Jin's hair, both of them watching the leaves drift down and touch lightly on the river below.

"I have something for you. My previous gift broke when I left." Jin pulled back just enough to let Namjoon open the pouch from his side, watching curiously with an soft, indulging smile.

It wasn't lacquered wood with a golden clasp, with a hair ornament made with jade and rose quartz.

It was a pink handkerchief, color faded and worn, folded haphazardly together. Without a word, Jin straightened out and faced his lover, slowly pulling the folds back to reveal what was underneath.

A ring, scratched and worn and beaten, made out of gold. It was plain and unremarkable, a thin band that would be unnoticable amongst the jewelry Jin would normally wear.

Jin stared at the ring for a long time, before glancing back at Namjoon, eyes misting over.

"Namjoon…"

"Please wear it." Namjoon said softly, holding one of Jin's hands, stroking his knuckles tenderly. "I may have a future wife, and a future family, but this is the proof of my loyalty to you. You are the only one in my heart, in my thoughts. So I thought… that because this is the right day, because you're still the most beautiful, and because you're my first love… It would be my great honor, if you would accept this lowly man of Goguryeo to be your husband, if not in name and title, then in heart and soul."

Jin couldn't see. His eyes were awash with tears, spilling over his cheeks. Namjoon was quiet, using his sleeve to wipe Jin's tears away, waiting patiently for his answer.

It was both gratifying and humbling, just like the first time Namjoon gave him such a precious treasure. It wasn't an expensive gift, but it brought joy and contentment, and its value was worth more than anything Jin could conceive in the world.

"Put it on me, Namjoon." Jin whispered, finally managing to find his voice, and silently Namjoon picked up the ring with steady fingers, tucked the handkerchief away, and held Jin's hand with the other.

It was as if the world paused, watching with bated breath as Namjoon slid the ring carefully into Jin's ring finger. Jin closed his fingers, felt the weight of the metal settle on his skin like it was meant to be there all along.

"Namjoon… how does it look like?"

In response, Namjoon lifted Jin's hand, and pressed his lips against the ring with reverence.

Jin had never looked more beautiful.

Namjoon's hands slid up to caress Jin's jaw. The King laughed softly, his hands covering the other's own. Their foreheads touched gently, breathing each other's scent, relishing in their reunion.

Both of them were never much for words. At that moment, they both understood each other perfectly.

Nearby, a wisteria blossom fluttered, and floated down to the river below.