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Chapter Text

              Yoongi was born into the rebellion. His father created it, birthed and gave rise to the rebellion. It’s all Yoongi knew and all he wanted to know. Since he was old enough to walk there’s been a sword in his hand, missions in his head, and desire in his heart. He was coerced into the rebellion but he wasn’t forced.

              His mother used to belong to the rebellion for the sake of his father, but it was never her home. She taught Yoongi everything his father lacked; patience, caring, kindness, emotions his father deemed useless for the future leader of this rebellion. No matter how much the rebels, called the Red Dragons, were his home, he always carried his mother’s lessons and kind smile in his heart. His father knew that too, he could see the twists and turns of his son’s mind and knew he was at conflict with himself. So, when he came of age at sixteen, his father gave him the option to explore their country and decide for himself where his future lied.

              Yoongi and his best friend Namjoon journeyed out together. Namjoon’s father was Yoongi’s father’s right hand man, who has contributed to the rebellion as much as Yoongi’s own father. It didn’t take much convincing for them to run back to their group. They reached the first village from their hidden community in the forest. They sat atop their horses and saw the dying and the poor working the lands. Children, starting at the age of three, were working to help their mothers and fathers while they starved to death. Bodies lay in the streets rotting and decaying, since most townspeople didn’t have the money for a proper burial nor the time off from their work to pay respects to their loved ones. They barely had time for the living.

              Yoongi looked on in shock and disgust. Imperial guards watched over the town, collecting and demanding rent money and taxes to the king.

              And that’s when Yoongi knew his father had been right all along. The king was ruthless and cared nothing for his people, but only of gems and money and wealth. The Red Dragon is his home and his life. Or, he so wanted to believe.

              Yoongi and Namjoon rode back to their community, their people, their rebellion. Their fathers stood in front of the opening gates, knowing their sons would be coming back. Yoongi jumped off his horse and hugged his father. “You’re right. You’ve always been right.”

              “I would’ve never lied to you,” his father spoke in his cold, stern voice, “My son.”

              Yoongi spent the next four years dedicating his blood, sweat and tears to the cause. He exploited everything his father taught him, soaking it in like his very being depended on it to survive. Namjoon was by his side every moment, ready to help Yoongi take over when their fathers’ time passed on.

              They woke every morning to train, building up their speed and strength. Their afternoons were filled with learning, either from their fathers or by the hundreds of books the rebellion had collected over the years telling every tale their country has to offer. They studied the imperial family, every king and queen and heir. Their nights were either spent bonding with their fellow members around the campfire or on a raid. Every month they packed up and moved to a new location within the forest, never returning to the same location.

              The rebellion has one and only one rule: never steal from the poor.

              The poor are the backbone of the country, they’re the reason the country flourishes. The rebellion only ever raids from elites and nobles. They often raid caravans traveling through the forest on their way to the capital for one of the many balls the king likes to throw.

              There have been times when Yoongi and Namjoon take the wealth they’ve raided and leave it in neighboring villages for the villagers there to share. They never told their fathers, but the smiles and knowing looks they share when their sons return gives evidence they know what they’re up to.

              The imperial family knows about the rebellion, there are rumors that the palace is growing increasingly more worried as more young men are leaving their villages to join the cause. Yet the king has never taken action against them, since they still believe that the cause will die out eventually. And that’s what Yoongi’s father explains to them, as to why their next raid is going to reveal to the country and the king why the rebellion is real and that they should be worried.

              The day before Yoongi’s twentieth birthday, his father sat him and Namjoon down and a few other of their soldiers and explained how their next raid is to kidnap the crown prince. Crown prince Jungkook is eighteen years old and in line to be king after his father passes on. And Yoongi doesn’t know how to feel.

              His father and Namjoon’s father have been planning this since Jungkook was born and announced as a new heir. They want to use him as a ransom to try and convince the king to pass new laws to be in favor of the poor peasants. Their main goal is to lower the taxation rates.

              Yoongi sat back, “Father, are you sure?”

              “Are you questioning my ruling?” his father spoke calmly, but after years Yoongi knew he was annoyed. His father didn’t like his actions being judged. “Everyone leave, you have your mission. You leave tomorrow morning before sunrise. Yoongi, stay.”

              Namjoon patted Yoongi’s shoulder and left the tent along with everyone else. His father rubbed his jaw, scratching at his beard, “Yoongi, my son, you’ve worked so much over the years. I’m so incredibly proud of you. And now, it’s your turn to take over.”

              Yoongi froze, “What?”

              “You’re twenty, it was the age I was when I began this. I’m getting old, I can no longer continue on these raids. But you’re young and you’re strong. Our people follow and look up to you. You’re ready.”

              “This raid is a test,” Yoongi stated.

              “Yes and no. It’s a test to see if you can lead a raid on your own. You’ve done small minor raids, but the Red Dragons haven’t done a raid this major since it was started. I need to know that this is where your heart lies and I need to know you are willing to lie down your life for this cause.” His father stands and crosses his arms.

              Yoongi stood and crossed his arms, “Long live the Red Dragons.”

              “Long live the Red Dragons” his father uncrossed his arms and dismissed him, “Gather your supplies, you have a long journey ahead of you.”

              “Yes, father,” Yoongi bowed and left.

              Namjoon was waiting for him in his tent. His bag was sitting by his feet and he had pulled Yoongi’s satchel out and started packing for him as well. “What did your father want?”

              “He wants me to take over,” Yoongi sat beside his best friend and his best soldier.

              “This raid’s a test?” Namjoon grabbed his hand.

              “He wants to make sure I’m willing to do everything for this cause,” Yoongi felt numb.

              “He should know you are, and you’ve proved it before,” Namjoon rubbed Yoongi’s palm, “but you know I’m going to be there every moment and every second. You aren’t doing this alone.”

              “Thank you, Nams,” Yoongi stood up and paced, “I just don’t feel right about this. Kidnapping the crown prince?”

              Namjoon continued packing for him, “The king needs to be enlightened. There’s been riots and peaceful protests and it only results in the imperial army killing our people. The king cares for nothing but himself and his wealth, it’s time for him to care for his people too. The crown prince is probably just as much of a bastard as him. They need to be taught a lesson, they’ve been spoiled their whole life.”

              Yoongi knew all this and he always has felt the same, “But-“

              “Yoongi, do you trust your father?” Namjoon asked.

              “Yes, with my life,” Yoongi answered immediately.

              “Then trust him with this,” Namjoon finished packing and tied his bag together, “he knows what he’s doing and he has a plan.”

              Yoongi nodded, “I know.”

              “Let’s get some rest, the mission’s going to be long and tiring,” Namjoon laid on Yoongi’s bed, “I’m staying the night.”

              Yoongi crawled in next to him, a grin tugging on his lips. “You always do before a raid, like a giant child.”

              “It’s for your well-being, hyung,” Namjoon smiled up at him.

              Yoongi knew Namjoon stayed because he always thought something bad might happen on a raid. He never knew if he would see Yoongi again, see his leader and best friend. And Yoongi’s glad Namjoon stays. “Get some sleep. Goodnight, Nams.”

              Namjoon was asleep already, his long limbs spread out over Yoongi’s tiny cot.

              They woke before the sun began peeking over the forest tops. The rest of the clan was still fast asleep in their tents, resting for the long day of training and raiding before them. The only ones awake were the guards positioned around their makeshift fences and the night-owls watching them from above. Yoongi could feel their piercing yellow gaze observing him as he made his way to the front gate, judging his actions and his feelings.

              Yoongi was about to commit the ultimate treason. Yoongi was on his journey to kidnap the crown prince.

              “You’re nervous, hyung,” Namjoon trotted his horse up next to his. Their men walking behind them, carrying their weapons with cold, hard, unrelenting hands.

              “This raid’s far too much greater than anything either of us have ever done before,” Yoongi looked ahead, the plan circulating through his head on repeat. The capital is three days by horse and five by walking. They would reach the capital by the end of the week, since he didn’t heave to his father’s advice to keep his men walking.

              Yoongi wasn’t taking extra breaks for them, though. He was taking them to drag out their arrival time.

              “You still don’t agree with this,” Namjoon knew Yoongi more than anyone else in their small kingdom.

              “No, I don’t,” Yoongi shifted in his saddle, “Are we punishing the king by taking his son? We know nothing about the crown prince, seeing as the king has kept him in hiding since he was born.”

              “Because he was paranoid that the rebellion would assassinate him in his cradle,” Namjoon spoke, in his calm tone he always manages to have.

              “And we are,” Yoongi snapped.

              “We’re not killing him!” Namjoon sighed, and Yoongi couldn’t help but think about how much Namjoon was like his own father, “we’re holding him for ransom to help the good of the people.”

              Yoongi wanted this to end. “I know.”

              “If the king has any say in his son’s raising then the prince will be a copy of himself,” Namjoon continued, Yoongi feeling tired, “the people will never be treated with the rights and dignity that they deserve. They’re keeping this kingdom afloat, not that bastard of a king.”

              Yoongi knew Namjoon got heated while debating this topic. Namjoon knew Yoongi despised the king, that he believed in the Red Dragons’ politics, but despite everything, Namjoon also knows Yoongi will always carry with him his mother’s kindness and care.

              “I know that look in your eye,” Yoongi kept looking forward.

              “What look?” Namjoon glanced away.

              “You were about to remind me that I’m like my mother,” Yoongi spat out, “the only time I’m ever reminded of my mother is when it’s held against me as my weakness.”

              “There’s nothing wrong with carrying her traits,” Namjoon knew the story of Yoongi’s mother, as he was there standing by his best friend’s side the entire time.

              “No, but there is. When leading a rebellion and a cause as great and powerful as the Red Dragon, I can’t be kind and forgiving and caring. I need to be hard and cold and stern, like my father,” Yoongi tightened his grip on the reign, “my mother’s kindness is what got her killed.”

              “Let’s take a break,” Namjoon pulled his horse to a stop and signaled for the men to break.

              “It’s true,” Yoongi jumped from his horse and pulled him to a small river streaming through the open green field, “it’s what my father loves to remind me of. That I’ll one day die because I’m too much like my mother. And perhaps he’s correct, maybe it will get me killed one day. But if there’s anything I learned from my mother in our short time together, it’s that you can always be too harsh, but you can never be too kind.”

              Yoongi walked away before Namjoon could respond. He left him there standing by their horses with his mouth agape, about to start debating with Yoongi again. But Yoongi knows that Namjoon knows he’s correct. When they were younger, Namjoon used to joke with Yoongi that he was never meant for the rebellion, that if he was too soft-hearted to kill an animal, how could he kill another human being?

              As they continued their journey to the capital, with Namjoon by his side but never talking, Yoongi couldn’t help but wonder if this was the journey he was made to go on all those years ago when his father had let him choose his own path.

              And he wonders if he chose wrong. 

              Yoongi did what he was told. He commanded his men, he gave instructions to Namjoon, he rode on with his father on his mind. He told himself over and over again that this was for the greater good. Yoongi had raided, he had stolen from, and injured, men. But he’s never killed. And as the large looming castle that overtowers the capital grows closer and closer, Yoongi knows that if the king doesn’t agree to their demands, Yoongi’s first kill will be the crown prince.

              And Yoongi doesn’t want to kill. No matter who it is.

              “Let’s break for the rest of the day,” Yoongi shouted to his men, “tonight we infiltrate the royal palace.”

              Namjoon smiled proudly at him.

              Yoongi looked away.

              Yoongi sat atop his horse, watching his men drop to the ground and settle in. There were twelve of them, each with a particular skill and mindset, each dueled out a specific task for this raid. Yoongi wonders if he’ll be able to return them home intact.

              “Are you ready?” Namjoon gripped Yoongi’s thigh, tugging him slightly. Yoongi jumped down off his horse.

              “Yes,” Yoongi couldn’t look him in the eye.

              “I can tell you’ve been reflecting these past few days,” Namjoon spoke with such pride it made Yoongi sick, “riding in silence is a good way to think.”

              Yoongi smiled bitterly, “I know.”

              “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my best friend,” Namjoon spoke quietly, “I know of your conflict, you don’t need to tell me for me to know. And I know this raid is hard for you, but I’m proud of you. We’re doing it for our people, for those who struggle like us. Nothing you do will be in vain.”

              “Get some rest Joon, it’s going to be a long night,” Yoongi hugged his friend tightly.

              “You too.”

              The palace was guarded by the imperial army, trained knights of noble birth sworn to protect the royal family. But the Red Dragon has infiltrated the army. His father had connections to a guard here, a man named Hoseok. Hoseok was a bastard son of a nobleman, who had provided his mother with money to help raise him, but when Hoseok had turned of age, his father sent him to train as a knight.

              He sent Hoseok off so he no longer had to care for him.

              Hoseok learned about the Red Dragon when a team ambushed his caravan on his trip to the capital so many years ago. Yoongi’s father had found him and when Hoseok told him to take whatever he wanted, Yoongi’s father saw something in him.

              No one from the Red Dragon knew that his father had kept word with this bastard knight until his father had revealed the plan to everyone. Hoseok has been sending encrypted messages to his father, detailing the castle of its every inch and crevice and blind spot. Hoseok has been studying the imperial army and the imperial family for years.

              And now his aid has come to use.

              Hoseok met Yoongi and his men behind a large tavern in the middle of the capital, when the sun was starting to set and the full moon began to illuminate the night sky. Yoongi let Hoseok take charge, sending the men out in pairs to each needed location. As the men distracted the guards and paved the intended pathway for them, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi would sneak into the crowned prince’s chambers.

              The royal palace was deserted, not a soul in sight. The king was throwing another grand party of his, every servant was working and every noble was attending. Hoseok had reassured them that the prince is never in attendance, his father locking him away from the public eye until it was his turn to become king.

              “The prince spends his nights alone, only the two guards posted out front his door to keep him company,” Hoseok whispered, “but I had stumbled upon a design of the palace hidden away in the library. There is a secret entrance that leads to the royal prince’s bath chambers just beyond his bed. We will be taking that way, come, come.”

              Hoseok led them to the west wing of the palace, creeping between shadows and scurrying out of sight. The entryway that leads to the prince’s chambers was hidden in a small closet along a small corridor. It was locked, the lock having rusted away. If examined closely, one would find the marks and scratches made upon it from many hours of someone, Hoseok, trying to pick away at it.

              It was when he had finally succeeded in opening the door that Yoongi’s father had made the call to action.

              The closet held nothing but a small entranceway followed by steep, thin stairs.

              “This is it,” Namjoon whispered.

              Hoseok nodded.

              Yoongi couldn’t breathe, he felt like the dust and guilt was suffocating him.

              Yoongi went first.

              The bathroom was empty and dark when Yoongi stepped in after climbing all the way up. The hidden entrance was in the back of the room hidden behind a large pillar. Hoseok and Namjoon followed behind. The room was beautiful and grand, containing a large round bath that was dug in the middle of the room with marble steps leading down into it. It must take twenty maids to fill the bath with hot water for their prince to bath in.

              Everything was made out of the finest material, satin curtains hung around the room for decoration and tiles made of materials Yoongi had never seen in his lifetime decorated the floor.

              Hoseok nudged Yoongi and indicated to the exquisite door, gold and silver running through intricate designs. His father wasn’t bluffing when he spoke of the king’s spending. A thin stream of golden light trickled through the small cracks, shuffling sounds and an airy voice quietly humming heard beyond the door.

              The prince.

              “Who are you?” Prince Jungkook’s voice was soft and shaky when hearing the intruders. He was still dressed in his evening clothes, tight black leather pants and a midnight blue silk shirt. He had his sleep wear laid out on his bed behind him. Yoongi found it curious as to why there were no servants helping him dress.

              But as Yoongi stopped examining the room to take a glance at his new captive, he froze. He had heard the tales of the prince’s beauty but he’d always doubted them, seeing as no one outside the royal palace has been graced by his presence. Yet the tales were true. The prince was breathtakingly beautiful, more beautiful than any person in the Red Dragon, more beautiful than any peasant he’d helped, more beautiful than any noble he’d raided. There was something angelic and pure about the way the prince held himself.

              “Do as you are told,” Hoseok stepped forward, “do not yell, do not fight back, follow us and keep low.”

              Hoseok had his dagger pointed towards the prince and Yoongi had a sudden urge to snap Hoseok’s arm, because who would dare point such an ugly thing at such a beautiful creature.

              The prince nodded, his eyes wide and his chest heaving with deep, unsteady breaths. Namjoon walked towards the prince and Yoongi could tell the prince was resisting the urge to run. Namjoon bound the prince’s hand and tied the end of the rope to his own belt, so any move the prince made if he ever tried to escape from them,  Namjoon would be able to feel on his belt.

              “Why are you doing this?” Yoongi could see tears swelling in the prince’s eyes.

              “You will learn over time as to why we need to do this,” Hoseok smirked, “let’s get going, our men are waiting.”

              Namjoon tugged on the rope, forcing the prince to follow behind him. As the prince walked past Yoongi, the two made eye contact. He could see the fear in Jungkook’s big doe eyes, and Yoongi wondered if his compassion showed in his.

              Hoseok led them back out through the secret door. Jungkook whimpered when he saw the entrance, like he realized his own safe place betrayed him. Yoongi took the back behind Namjoon and Jungkook. He stayed a few steps behind.

              Only eight men were waiting at their meeting place. A few of the men had thin cuts and rough scratches coating their arms, face, and torsos. But the eight men seemed intact for the most part. “Where’re the others?”

              “The rest should be here soon,” one man said, “they stayed longer to continue the distraction.”

              “Yoongi,” Namjoon pulled him aside, “we can’t wait. If any of the guards find out Jungkook’s missing they’ll be on our tail. We have to go.”

              “And just leave our men behind?” Yoongi asked, raising an eyebrow, “No man gets left behind.”

              “For a small raid, yes. But for a mission this big, it’s too risky,” Namjoon whispered.

              Yoongi looked over Namjoon’s shoulder. The prince was as far away as the rope would allow him, but Yoongi could tell past the tears and the helpless maiden façade he had going on that he was listening to Yoongi and Namjoon’s conversation. Yoongi could practically see the gears shifting in the prince’s head. The prince isn’t stupid. Yoongi will have to pay careful attention to that.

              “Two minutes.” Yoongi said, “If they don’t return in two minutes, we leave. We won’t break until we reach the bridge that crosses over the two rivers.”

              Namjoon nodded, “That’s about two days walk, that’ll put a great deal of distance between us.”

              “Men!” Yoongi turned to his group, “we leave in two minutes whether the rest of the men return or not. Start preparing!”

              The men begin packing up their belongings. One of the men, who Yoongi vaguely remembers from camp as a quiet boy who stuck to himself and his brother, was standing and watching the castle. The boy’s brother was on the mission with them as well, but Yoongi can’t spot him among the others. 

              “No one’s coming,” Namjoon said, “we need to leave.”

              Yoongi mounted his horse, “Put the prince on your horse with you.”

              “Can I go with you?” Jungkook asked. His voice was shaky, he was nervous asking it.

              “No,” Namjoon began.

              Yoongi held his hand up, “It’s fine. Give me the rope, I’ll tie it to my belt.”

              Namjoon untied it from himself and handed it over.

              “Get up first,” Yoongi reached a hand down. The prince gripped it firm and stepped into Namjoon’s hands for a boost up. When Jungkook was seated behind him he rolled the rope up and shortened it as much as possible before tying it to his belt. He sneakily tied the extra rope to the horse’s reins.

              “Move out!” Yoongi shouted and dug his heels into his horse’s sides to start into a gallop. His horse pushed through his men, he heard Namjoon’s horse galloping close behind and the sound of sixteen feet running, “keep a look out for any imperial guards!”

              He could feel Jungkook rubbing up slightly against him, his hot breath against his neck. He swallowed thickly and gripped the reins tighter.

              He shouldn’t be feeling this way. He shouldn’t be feeling this way about their prisoner. The prince is scared and frightened, he was just taken from his home, his safe place. Jungkook had been pulled and dragged along, Yoongi saw the red marks forming on his wrists from rope burn. He probably thinks he’s going to be killed, yet the pit of Yoongi’s stomach is warm and tingling over the prince.

              Yoongi feels sickened. He didn’t think this mission could become any worse. He’s confused and angry at himself and scared of what’s to come. Yoongi wishes they never did this or that his father sent someone else to command this mission.

              “Where are we going?” Jungkook asked.

              Yoongi remained silent, biting his tongue.

              “Please,” Jungkook’s voice cracked, “p-please tell me w-what is going to happen to me.”

              Yoongi glanced over his shoulder. Tears were streaming down his face; his cheeks were red and blotchy. There was crusted blood on his bottom lip, probably from biting it too hard. His thighs were crushed against the horse, so he wouldn’t have to grip onto Yoongi for safety. His hands were shaking in his lap.

              “Nothing,” Yoongi whispered, “nothing will happen to you as long as I can help it.”

              Jungkook choked out a sob, “Why are you doing this?”

              “I’m sorry,” Yoongi felt a weight lift off his shoulder, “it’s out of my hands. I was told to do so.”

              “By who?” Jungkook asked.

              “The Red Dragons,” Yoongi replied.

              Yoongi could feel Jungkook stiffen, “The rebellion group?”

              “Yes,” Yoongi breathed.

              “My father has taught me about them, you,” Jungkook’s voice was quiet, “about all the raids and murder and theft you do.”

              “Do you know why we do it?” Yoongi asked.

              “You want to overthrow the king,” Jungkook replied.

              “Is that what your father told you?”

              “Yes.”

              “It’s not true,” Yoongi almost laughed, “we do it for us, we do it for the peasants of the country. They’re living in poverty, starving and dying from disease. They’re overtaxed and overruled. Yet your father does nothing to help them. That’s why we do what we do.”

              “You are lying,” Jungkook sobbed, “my father told me how we are prospering. The people love my father.”

              “Have you ever been outside the imperial palace?” Yoongi knew the answer already. The silence he received only confirmed it.

              “I’ll show you what this country’s been reduced to because of your father,” Yoongi said, “We kidn- we took you to hold as ransom. We want your father to follow our regulations. The regulations won’t put your father or your family out of power, but simply help the peasants and the people who sacrifice everything for it.”

              “I do not believe you.”

              “I understand why you don’t,” Yoongi replied, “but you’ll see for yourself and judge it for yourself.”

              “Are they going to kill me?” the shakiness of Jungkook’s voice, the sound of his sobs and choked coughs cover every inch of Yoongi’s skin with goosebumps.

              “I told you, I won’t let anything happen to you,” Yoongi knew the words laid true to his heart.

              “Why?” Jungkook asked, “Why would you help me?”

              Yoongi didn’t answer. He doesn’t know if he remained silent because he didn’t know the answer or he didn’t want to admit the answer to himself. All he knew was that the thought of something terrible happening to the crowned prince didn’t sit well with him, his stomach churning unpleasantly and the hint of bile in the back of his throat threatening to escape.

              Yoongi remained silent until they reached the bridge, two nights later. Jungkook seemed to have lost his confidence and remained mute, letting out only small soft sobs like he was trying his hardest to not be heard. With neither sight nor sound of anyone tracking them Yoongi yelled for his men to break and make camp. The remainder of the men who were left were weak from running for two days straight, only being allowed short minutes for the bathroom and to catch their breath.

              Yoongi slid down and offered his help to the prince. Jungkook leaned and gripped Yoongi’s shoulders as Yoongi held his waist, their faces mere inches apart. Jungkook followed Yoongi around the makeshift camp, the rope tugging him along. He flinched and cowered away from the men. Yoongi’s men were rough, every inch of their body covered in muscle and tattoos to symbolize the Red Dragons. Yoongi had always been on the lithe side, he was smaller and weaker than his men. But he was quick on his feet and intelligent. Namjoon always had a nice mixture of both. Yoongi couldn’t yet tell which side Hoseok leaned more towards. The man was strong and ruthless, yet Yoongi knew he wasn’t dumb.

              It was no wonder Jungkook chose Yoongi of all the men to lean towards. He was the least physically intimidating.

              “We shall reach our destination by tomorrow night if we leave before the sun rises,” Namjoon said, having snuck up to Yoongi. He cautiously watches the crown prince, sneaking glances over his shoulder every few seconds. Namjoon walks straight with his hands clasped behind his back.

              “What do you wish to discuss?” Yoongi asked.

              “We know each other too well, my brother,” Namjoon smiled his dimples indenting in his cheeks. Yoongi used to joke with him when they were younger that his dimples were his only attractive aspect. “but it’s about the prisoner.”

              Yoongi halted and motioned for Jungkook to stop where he was, close enough Yoongi could see him out of the corner of his eye but far enough he won’t be able to detect what they’re discussing. Especially not with the two men sitting by his feet playfully arguing and roughhousing. Though it seemed Jungkook didn’t understand the men were joking, seemingly terrified out of his mind, if the increase of his eyes and the shiver that went through his body whenever one of the men got too loud was evidence enough.

              “What about him?”

              “I have been watching him, watching you,” Namjoon looked at Jungkook, “he trusts you. Perhaps even finds comfort in your presence.”

              “I see,” Yoongi dumbly nodded.

              “I believe we could use that to our advantage,” Namjoon said.

              “How so?”

              “Weasel your way into his trust even more,” Namjoon began, “find out as much about the castle and the royal family as you can. If he reveals something, anything, we could use it as a leeway. Use it against the king so he’s forced to abide to our commands.”

              “I thought taking Jungkook was for that?” Yoongi debated, “is he not to be held as ransom?”

              “He is, and he’s serving that perhaps. But we need to take every precaution, for what if the king doesn’t care that we have his son? For all we know, he could have ten bastard sons who he’s willing to give the chance to.”

              Yoongi shook his head, “Jungkook’s the crown prince, he’s the king’s only son of royal blood. The people won’t follow a bastard king.”

              Namjoon shrugged his shoulder like it was nothing, but Yoongi knew it was everything, “We need every side of the fight. Just see what you can do.”

              “I will,” Yoongi agreed and turned to leave to continue checking the setup, when Namjoon grabbed his elbow.

              “One more thing,” Namjoon leaned in closely, eyeing anyone too close, “keep a watch on Hoseok. I don’t trust him. And watch the prisoner, I’ve heard some men speak.”

              Yoongi felt the air knock out of him, “Speak of what?”

              “Some have talked about how beautiful the prince is, that it doesn’t matter that he’s male, some wish to force him to bed,” Namjoon spat bitterly, “it’s disgusting. And we mustn’t have Jungkook harmed, we’ve done enough damage. Let us not damage him physically too.”

              “And what about Hoseok?” Yoongi had hoped Namjoon would catch the eerie vibe crawling off the man.

              “I don’t trust him, but I trust your father. And your father seems to trust him,” Namjoon spoke, “but still, I would watch my back when he’s around. He seems to be the type to strike you when you’re not looking.”

              “Thank you, Namjoon,” Yoongi reached up and gripped the side of his face, pushing it slightly and smiling, “you’re always a great help.”

              “I know I am,” Namjoon playfully pushed him away, “even if you wish to fight me on it.”

              “Have someone set up my tent,” Yoongi commanded, “Prince Jungkook will be staying with me tonight. To keep him protected.”

              “I’ll stay with you tonight as well, to take turns on watch over the prisoner while one sleeps,” Namjoon said.

              Yoongi nodded, “Right. You’re dismissed.”

              Namjoon walks away, clasping his hands behind his back again, “you’ll never cease to prove your superiority over me.”

              Yoongi let out a silent scoff, watching his friend yell to a random man to set up Yoongi’s tent. The man quickly scurried off to where Yoongi’s horse was resting and untied his belongings. Yoongi watched as the man stood dumbfounded as to where to set up Yoongi’s tent. His men know he likes to rest a distance away from the rest of the crew, usually hiding his tent between trees or bushes or whatever natural camouflage he could use.

              Yoongi whistled a high tune and when he received the man’s attention he jerked his head in the direction of a cluster of trees just a few meters away from the two bridges and away from where his men set up camp between them. The man jogged over to the spot and pulled out the cloth and pegs to begin building.

              “I see your men have high respect for you,” Hoseok walked up to Yoongi. Namjoon stopped his conversation with one of the men and began watching them, “not many commanders could get their men to scurry to do such menial work.”

              Yoongi smiled bitterly, “I’ve grown up with many of these men and have fought and trained by their side. They’re my family and I treat them with the respect I expect from them, yet they know I’m their superior.”

              Hoseok grinned widely, the corners of his eyes scrunching up and revealing a row of straight white teeth, “I expected nothing less from the son of the Red Dragon’s leader.”

              “Are you settling in alright?” Yoongi asked, faking his best concerned voice. He couldn’t care less if his men bullied and fought to their hearts’ desire with this newcomer.

              “Yes, yes I am, thank you for asking,” Hoseok cocked his head to the side and peered down at Yoongi. Yoongi felt like he was being judged and calculated, he didn’t appreciate being under the scrutiny of someone like Hoseok.

              “Now, if you'll excuse me, I should go begin the mission work for my father,” Yoongi didn’t wait for Hoseok to answer, but walked towards Jungkook and took him by the arm to guide him to the freshly made tent.

              “Thank you, Lee,” Yoongi clapped the man on the back, “Go rest, go eat. Come to me if there’s any trouble.”

              Lee bowed, “Thank you.”

              Yoongi held open the flap and let Jungkook enter first before following him in. Lee had set up a small table with a pen and ink in the back of the tent, Namjoon most likely tipping him off to do so. He kneeled before the table and grabbed the quill and dipped it into the jet-black ink.

              “Please sit, Jungkook, you’re making me nervous hovering about like that,” Yoongi could feel Jungkook standing above over him. A moment later he was sitting by Yoongi’s side watching him work.

              Yoongi looked up at Jungkook for the first time since they arrived. The prince looked tired. There were black marks under his eyes, and Yoongi couldn’t remember if they were there before the trip. His cheeks were red and blotchy, still coated in fresh tears, yet his eyes looked dry, like he had cried every tear in his body and nothing was left. He looked weak and afraid. He didn’t look like the tall and intimidatingly beautiful man Yoongi first laid his eyes on.

              “Please sleep, Jungkook,” Yoongi softly whispered his own voice could hardly reach his ears, “it’ll do you some good.”

              “I am not tired,” Jungkook spat back. There was a venom in his voice that wasn’t previously there. But still, his voice had cracked.

              Yoongi licked his lips and hesitated, he gently took Jungkook’s wrists in his hands and worked at the knot and slipped it off. He reached into a bag by his pile of blankets where he keeps special potions and lotions. He grabbed one that was made for burns, and uncapped it, pouring a small amount onto the tips of his fingers, “This might burn a bit.”

              Jungkook just watched him. Yoongi slowly worked the lotion into Jungkook’s red and inflamed skin. Jungkook flinched and jerked back but Yoongi grabbed his wrists back, rubbing soothing and comforting circles into his skin. 

              Yoongi whipped his hands on his pants. He untied the rope from his belt and rolled the rope up and stashed it under the table. Jungkook just merely watched him, no expression exposing his feelings. Yoongi took a bandage out of the bag and a knife. He wrapped Jungkook’s wrist and cut it and wrapped his other wrist with the remainder. Yoongi ignored the way Jungkook carefully watched Yoongi handling the knife, like he was expecting Yoongi to snap and plunge the knife into his neck instead.

              Jungkook sniffled, “Why did you take the rope off?”

              Yoongi turned back to his half-written report, “Because we don’t need it.”

              “Do you trust me?” Jungkook asked.

              Yoongi shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe. But we’re in the middle of the forest. You’ve never left the castle before, you won’t make it far if you run.”

              Jungkook stuck his tongue in his cheek, “You don’t know that.”

              “Hoseok has been monitoring you since he was young and joined the imperial guards,” Yoongi casually mentioned.

              “Do you actually trust him?” Jungkook shuffled on his knees.

              “What do you mean by that?” Yoongi asked.

              “I saw how you acted around him, you are stand-offish,” Jungkook whipped his nose, it was still runny from crying.

              “Since when have you been paying attention to what I’m doing?” Yoongi scoffed jokingly, “when I saw you out there, you seemed too afraid of my men to do anything.”

              Jungkook leaned back on his heels and clicked his tongue. Yoongi smiled at him. The corner of Jungkook’s lips twitched, but then he seemed to remember the position he was in and coughed to cover it and looked away. The smile dropped from Yoongi’s face and he continued working.

              By the time Namjoon entered the tent, Yoongi had just finished his report. Jungkook had sat by his side the entire time, reading what he was writing down, “Why doesn’t he have the rope on?”

              Yoongi placed the quill back in the pot and closed the small jar of ink. “I deemed it unnecessary while we’re in here. Are you saying if he ran I wouldn’t be able to stop him?”

              Namjoon sighed, “No, that’s not, whatever you say, Yoongi. Get some sleep, I’ll take the first watch.”

              Yoongi slipped the report in his bag, “Jungkook, you can take my bed. Please get some sleep, you need it.”

              Jungkook glanced over at Namjoon and then back at him, silently he nodded and crawled over to the pile of blankets. Namjoon sat at the edge of the tent, propping the flap of the tent open to keep an eye on the men and their surroundings.

              “Yoongi,” Jungkook whispered, glancing nervously between Yoongi and Namjoon. He scouted closer to the wall of the tent and peered nervously at the empty space he made.

              “What?” Yoongi widened his eyes, “Oh, oh, um, yeah.”

              Yoongi sat beside Jungkook who curled into a fetal position, drawing his knees up to his chest as soon as Yoongi sat beside him. Namjoon watched them, his eyebrows furrowed and a confused expression on his face.

              “I don’t trust these men,” Jungkook mumbled into his chest. Yoongi knew he was hoping Namjoon wouldn’t hear, but Yoongi knew he could, “I, I’ve heard them say stuff to me. I’m scared to sleep.”

              Namjoon guiltily looked away, allowing the two some privacy. Yoongi laid down next to the prince, keeping a small distance between them, “I know, I’ve been informed of what’s circulating. But I won’t let my men do anything. I promised I won’t let anything happen to you.”

              Jungkook nodded, “I trust you, Yoongi. I do not know why I do, you do not deserve my trust, but I do.”

              Yoongi felt his throat swell and close in on them, “You’re right. I don’t deserve your trust, but thank you, Jungkook. I won’t let you regret it.”

              Jungkook’s eyes were closed and Yoongi wasn’t sure if Jungkook heard what he had said, but he knows Namjoon had. In the darkness the two old friends’ eyes met and a silent conversation and promise was made. Namjoon nodded and smiled gently at Yoongi. Yoongi knew that anything that was just spoken into the night air wouldn’t make it back to his father. And Yoongi knew that Namjoon knew what he was thinking, and what he was feeling.

              Yoongi couldn’t even explain it fully to himself. But something within him drew himself to Jungkook. The minute he laid eyes on him, something had changed, and Yoongi felt like he no longer knew himself. But every second of every day since Jungkook has been forced into his presence, something keeps yelling at Yoongi to protect and care for this stranger. When he heard Jungkook cry, he wanted to do everything in his power to prevent Jungkook from ever feeling depressed again.

              And he’s afraid if anyone dares lay a finger on Jungkook, Yoongi may only see murder in his eyes.

              Yet he feels guilty and horrid. He felt like he was taking advantage of Jungkook, like some greater force  was forcing his feelings and emotions onto the prince, despite never uttering a single word. He’s afraid that if he does reveal to Jungkook his true intentions, that he might comply simply because he’s a captive and Yoongi is his captee. But he doesn’t want Jungkook to do anything against his will, if anything, he wants Jungkook’s feelings for him to be true. But Yoongi knows that’ll never happen, Jungkook would never wish to be anything but free from Yoongi.

              Yoongi was the one who took the prince from his home, his family, his safety, and forced him out bound by rope and terrified. Yoongi has scarred him emotionally and mentally. And no matter how much Jungkook says he trusts Yoongi, Yoongi knew he could never let Jungkook let himself go and give himself over to Yoongi.

              He would allow his heart to be broken to allow Jungkook’s to stay intact. Because in the end, how can the crown prince and next future king be with a lowlife and soon to be leader of the Red Dragons, the rebellion aimed against the royal family?

              Yoongi turned his back away from Jungkook and forced his eyes closed. He tried to focus on Namjoon’s own familiar and soft breathing across the tent as he drummed his fingers on his thighs out of boredom, instead of the new and hot breath so close to his neck.

              When Namjoon nudged him awake with his foot, Yoongi felt as if he had just finished a fight. He was tired and his body felt heavy. His mind allowed no room to sleep as he spent his hours worrying and fretting over what was to come for Jungkook when they reached the camp. No matter how hard he tried to expel the thoughts from his mind, his thoughts kept wandering back to the boy who laid beside him.

              Prince Jungkook was going to be the death of him.

              Yoongi swatted playfully at Namjoon’s foot, “Go get some rest, Nams.”

              Yoongi sat up and stretched his sore limbs. He waited until Namjoon was settled in his own bed across from Yoongi’s before getting up and taking Namjoon’s previous seat, freezing for a moment when Jungkook whined in his sleep like he could feel Yoongi’s safe and protecting presence leave him. He let out a shaky sigh and turned towards his friend instead. He allowed a small smile to grace his face as he watched his friend curl his long body into himself and cuddle up to a wad of blankets.

              And as he watched the two men sleep, different in every aspect of life and class and physical appearance, his heart grew soft. Besides his father, these two men were the only ones who he would be willing to lay his life down to protect. And he wonders if, in the end, Yoongi would be forced to choose between one and the other, his best friend who might as well be his blood brother, or the man who Yoongi had just met, yet has grown so dearly and dangerously attached to.

              Yoongi woke Namjoon and Jungkook at sunrise, “It’s time to head out.”

              Yoongi grabbed his own personal belongings before exiting the tent and ordering the nearest man to dismantle his tent. Namjoon guided Jungkook out, his hands bound by rope again. Namjoon had met Jungkook’s eyes and raised a questioning eyebrow as he saw the bandages adorning his wrists. Jungkook said nothing and looked away, but not before Namjoon caught the red tint of his cheeks, blushing all the way up to his ears. Namjoon said nothing.

              The men had their small camp packed away right as the sun cleared over the forest top. Hoseok was packed and wide awake before any of the other men were even starting to stir. Yoongi stood on the edge of camp, his arms crossed over his chest, watching Hoseok help the men pack their belongings. Yoongi didn’t trust the man, it was evident he didn’t sleep the whole night through. He was sure to be up to something. Hoseok appeared to be refreshed and awake as ever, there was no single detail in his appearance to give away what was happening. Not once throughout their journey did Hoseok appear anything else other than happy and alert.

              Hoseok laughed loudly with a large radiant smile on his face at something said by the man he was helping pack. He was trying to get his men to trust him.

              “He’s trying to get our men to trust him,” Namjoon walked up beside Yoongi, watching Hoseok intently.

              “And it’s easy,” Yoongi drawled out, “he’s a social person, he knows how to speak and charm people.”

              “Everyone at the palace loves him,” Jungkook spoke up from behind.

              Namjoon and Yoongi turned around in surprise. Jungkook stood close behind them, his hands were bound in front and the end of the rope tied to Namjoon’s pants. He looked the same as the night before. Yoongi knew he had slept but it did the prince no good.

              “What was that?” Namjoon asked.

              Namjoon had spoken, but Jungkook only spoke to Yoongi, “He was popular among both the guards and the nobles. People forgot he was a bastard son of a Lord when they saw how polite and intelligent and humorous he is. My father trusted him enough to look over my protection, he was the main guard that was stationed outside my door. My father does not trust just any man.”

              “He’s cunning,” Yoongi stated.

              Jungkook nodded, “Very.”

              Namjoon turned to Yoongi with an unreadable expression on his face, “We should tell your father.”

              “And tell him what?” Yoongi sighed, “That you and I, and our prisoner, don’t trust Hoseok? With no evidence to back us up?”

              Namjoon shrugged, knowing it was impossible. Yoongi’s father would only dismiss them with a heart-bellied laugh and tell them to stop wasting his time. “So what do we do?”

              “We watch him, anything he does or says will be reported back to me. I have men at camp who I trust,” Yoongi knew two men who specialized in espionage. 

              “Who?” Namjoon asked. Yoongi knew Namjoon knew who he was thinking of.

              “Seokjin and Taehyung,” Yoongi replied, his grin matching the one growing on Namjoon’s face.

              Seokjin and Taehyung are two brothers who have been with the Red Dragons since Seokjin was twelve and Taehyung was nine. Yoongi’s father was the one who rescued them from their village. One night, a few royal knights who were stationed at their village to maintain order, had drunk their weights in ale and wine. They had started a fire which quickly spread through the straw-built village, burning everything in its wake. At the time the Red Dragons were camped out just over the fields, his father had seen the smoke and hew of red rise into the night sky. He gathered a group of his best men and took off in hopes of providing the village with aid. Villagers were fleeing for their life, only a few had stumbled upon their campout where Yoongi and Namjoon, along with other children, provided them with food and water for their journey. Everything these people owned were left behind to be consumed by the lick of fiery death.

              Only less than half of the village had managed to escape. The rest slowly perished under the heat and smoke. The village was a grave of victims. Yoongi could still remember the echo of screams that reached him. Yoongi’s father had arrived too late, everything and everyone was up in flames with the knights nowhere to be seen. Later his father had returned to the village, and checked what was left of the knights’ quarters, their possessions and horses were gone. The knights had vanished as soon as the fire began.

              The cottages and livestock and farmlands were gone. His father was leaving, all hope abandoned, when he heard the wailing of a child. That’s when he found Taehyung cradling his older brother’s body under a half-crumpled brick wall. His brother, Seokjin, lay limp and barely breathing. His left arm singed and bloodied red. His father took the brothers into his arms, his care, and his rebellion. Since then, Seokjin and Taehyung have been working and training under the Red Dragon, and have proven themselves great assets to the cause.

              But Seokjin had made Yoongi’s father promise that Taehyung would never participate in battle or raids. His father complied and gave them clear-way to begin training as spies, because he knew Taehyung would never do anything without his brother by his side. The two were inseparable.

              They were the best in the group. Not once have they reported back with false information. Despite their tall statures, they were stealthy and quick. Taehyung knows how to charm the ladies and make men spill their darkest secrets. Seokjin had always been able to gather sympathy from people upon them seeing his burnt and dead arm. His young and innocent face made people talk.

              And Yoongi knew Taehyung and Seokjin had ultimate trust and faith in Yoongi. And plus, Namjoon has a personal connection to Taehyung, Taehyung would never dare betray his lover and Seokjin would never dare betray his brother’s lover.

              Namjoon nodded, smiling slightly, “Okay.”

              “We’ll meet with them when we return,” Yoongi held out his hand, “Jungkook will ride with me again.”

              Namjoon’s grin faltered and he gave his friend a look but handed over the rope with no verbal complaints. The look of relief on Jungkook’s face was enough to confirm everything that has passed unsaid between Namjoon and Yoongi last evening. “Let’s move out! No stopping until we return to camp.”

              The men grunted in response and began moving ahead to cross over the bridges, eager to return home after this long mission. Yoongi swung himself up and over his horse, he reached a hand down and practically picked Jungkook up to place him behind him. The rope hung loosely around his waist.

              Hoseok fell into step with the horses, “Good morning, Yoongi, Namjoon, prisoner.”

              Namjoon scoffed, “Don’t be rude, he’s still our crown prince. Show him respect.”

              Yoongi knew Namjoon had no care about calling the prince their prisoner, but Namjoon was never the one to play people along into thinking he liked them. Yoongi smiled and laughed.

              Hoseok fanned a bow, “My apologies, Prince Jungkook.”

              Jungkook leaned into Yoongi, placing his lips close to Yoongi’s ear, away from Hoseok’s prying eyes, “Even when he was my guard I never trusted him, I can clearly see why I needed to have my suspicions. But be careful, Yoongi, he acts the same as when he was around me. He is hiding something.”

              Yoongi grunted, letting Jungkook understand that he heard and understood him. He caught Namjoon’s eye and gave a slight nod and received on in response. Hoseok watched on in amusement, no doubt thinking they were talking about him.

              Jungkook spoke again, “He was very close to my father.”

              That was news to Yoongi. Jungkook had told him that the king trusted Hoseok, but being close to the king is different. Yoongi has no doubt that it was something Hoseok failed to mention to Yoongi’s father.

              “Whenever Hoseok was not guarding me, he seemed to be in a private meeting with my father,” Jungkook said, “he may have been playing my father, but be careful that it is not you he is playing.”

              “Yoongi,” Namjoon snapped, “we’re being watched.”

              “Don’t move,” Yoongi barked as Hoseok began to look over his shoulder, “Nams, why do you say this?”

              “I heard a snap of a branch just off to my right,” Namjoon spoke low and calculated, “I merely took a quick glance over my shoulder, careful to not make it suspicious, and I believe I caught sight of a man.”

              “If he’s a lone man from the Royal Palace he must’ve been tailing us the entire time,” Yoongi cursed. He didn’t feel Jungkook move, but just as Yoongi was to order the two men closest to scout, Jungkook shouted, “Jimin!”

              The parade of men came to a halt. Namjoon and Yoongi within seconds were off their horses with their swords drawn. A small figure carefully stepped out from behind a large oak tree. His clothes were dirty and Yoongi could clearly point out the patches of cloth that have been ripped and sewn over and over again. Namjoon spoke first, “State your name and your business in these woods.”

              The man, Jimin, wringed his hands and nervously glanced up at the prince. But something was off. The man didn’t seem scared for himself, he seemed scared for the prince. Without needing to hear a reply Yoongi knew who he was, “You’re one of Jungkook’s servants, are you not?”

              Jimin nodded and flung himself to his knees, “I am sorry, my prince, I knew you told me to stay hidden.”

              Yoongi looked up at Jungkook still sitting perched on his horse, “What does this man speak of?”

              “He is my servant,” Jungkook licked his lips, “I knew you men were coming. I heard you from my bathhouse, every movement echoes into my room. Jimin was with me in my room that night. I was going to tell him to alarm the guards but I feared for his safety and told him to hide instead.”

              Yoongi looked back at the man still bowing on his knees and hands, “You followed us? This whole time?”

              Jimin nodded, “Yes, sir.”

              Namjoon whistled, “Impressive.”

              “Get up,” Yoongi ordered, putting his sword away. Jimin remained on his hands and knees, his head bowed, “I said, get up.”

              “You may rise, Jimin,” Jungkook said. Jimin bowed deeper before standing and bowing once more towards the prince.

              “You’re coming with us,” Yoongi said, “Namjoon, tie him up.”

              Jimin stared wide eyed at his prince, curling into himself as Namjoon produced another length of rope and tied it around his small wrists. Jungkook shifted uncomfortably, “It will be alright, Jimin, I promise.”

              Yoongi mounted his horse again. Namjoon mounted his with Jimin sitting behind him, “Let’s go, we won’t reach camp until midnight now.”

              Yoongi rode his horse close to Namjoon’s. Jimin was terrified, to say the least. While Jungkook remained silent for the most part, and tried his hardest to act pose, Jimin was opposite to that. It seemed the servant couldn’t stop mumbling, whether to himself or Namjoon, Yoongi didn’t know. Namjoon clicked his tongue and shook his head, cocking his head towards Yoongi and raising an eyebrow.

              “Jimin,” Jungkook whispered quietly, “why did you come?”

              Jimin looked around anxiously. And to Yoongi it seemed like he was trying hard not to look at a certain someone, “You are my prince, I couldn’t just let you be killed. At least not by yourself, my prince.”

              Jungkook had begun crying upon seeing his servant. His cries grew louder now, “You’re so stupid, Park Jimin.”

              Jimin simply nodded and mumbled something that Yoongi couldn’t understand but made the prince bubble out a wet and deep laugh. It was the first time Yoongi had ever heard the prince laugh before.

              “What an interesting turn of events, no?” Hoseok asked. Yoongi had forgotten the man was still there.

              “Jung Hoseok,” Jimin said, with no meaning or emotion behind his voice.

              “Jimin, wonderful to see you again,” Hoseok smiled. It seemed as if the man never ceased to smile.

              Namjoon looked up at Yoongi, “You two know each other?”

              “Oh, but of course we do,” Hoseok spoke first, “Jimin is Prince Jungkook’s head servant and I am Prince Jungkook’s head guard. It was only necessary we knew each other, isn’t that right?”

              And Yoongi now knew who Jimin was trying to avoid looking at. He wouldn’t look at Hoseok but instead watched the back of Namjoon’s head instead. In many ways Yoongi saw Jungkook in the servant. His bound hands sat in his lap shaking with fear, similar to how Jungkook was just the previous day. Yoongi only wished the prince spoke as much as Jimin, maybe he would have more information about the palace and the secrets within by now.

              “Jimin began just after I did, did you not?” Hoseok asked but continued without hearing his reply, “Always have been a feisty one, got into a lot of trouble because of his ill-tempered mouth. I would watch him if I were you.”

              Jimin took the hit with a flinch, he bit his bottom lip as if to never speak again.

              “But he really is unnecessary to be here,” Hoseok said lazily picking at his fingers as he walked, “I suppose when we get back to camp to just kill him off.”

              Jimin whimpered. Jungkook went stiff. If it weren’t for the rope bounding him to Yoongi, he had a feeling the prince would’ve attacked Hoseok. Jimin was valuable to Jungkook, it’s clear as day. And if Jimin had worked so close to the crown prince, he had to know secrets of his own about the royal palace and its family. He could be an asset, but it’s still unclear if Jimin had led anyone with him. If he’s a mere servant than there’s no way Jimin had written a message relaying information back to the castle, since he’s most likely illiterate.

              “You don’t make that call,” Namjoon said, “Yoongi or his father does, but as Yoongi’s head of this mission, it most likely will be his call.”

              “He lives,” Yoongi made direct eye contact with Hoseok, “we may be able to use him.”

              Not once did Hoseok’s smile falter, in fact it only seemed to grow larger, “Of course, whatever you say.”

              “Hoseok, do you mind checking the men in front?” Yoongi asked, “I believe it’s Taewoon and Sungin who are leading us, and they often get side-tracked and lose their way.”

              “Then why would you appoint them to lead?” Hoseok asked.

              “I didn’t,” Yoongi drawled, “they just always seem to go ahead of everyone else and everyone else follows.”

               Hoseok tsked, “Terrible.”

              “Indeed,” Yoongi watched him weave his way through the small group.

              Jimin mumbled incoherent words the rest of the day and night, to Yoongi it seemed the servant was praying in a language he didn’t understand. Every so often Jimin would make a sign, the same sign, a cross over his heart and then a circle over his forehead not once breaking eye contact with the sky above his head.

              Jungkook would try his best to ease his servant’s nerves, smiling and whispering to him. Yoongi has only heard the rumors that seeped through the Royal Palace doors about how terrible and inhuman the servants were treated there. But watching the dynamics between the prince and the servant, Yoongi could tell how much one another means to the other. Jimin trusted his prince with every fiber of his being, he had followed Yoongi and his men going against his prince’s orders to make sure Jungkook was safe. And Jungkook cared for Jimin, he had forgotten his own personal turmoil to soothe Jimin’s.

              They reached the Red Dragon’s camp at nightfall. The moon was high in the star-scattered night sky. The camp was quiet with sleep, except for a small group of men. His father in the front with Namjoon’s father standing just to his right and a step back. Yoongi was finally home. He shared a smile with Namjoon and kicked his heel into his horse’s side to trot up to his father.

              Jungkook gripped Yoongi’s side, his breath hitched considerably. Yoongi touched Jungkook’s hand, his fingers sprawled over the back of his hand, communicating in a silent way that everything will be alright. Jungkook evened out his breathing, in a silent reply of “I trust you.”

              Yoongi stopped in front of his father, “Hello, father.”

              “Hello, my son,” his father spread out of his arms in greeting.              

                Yoongi embraced his father and bowed in greeting to Namjoon’s father and the other higher council men standing with his father.

              “You have succeeded,” his father stepped up to Jungkook peering at him like an odd specimen. He bowed mockingly, “my prince.”

              Jungkook’s lips trembled and his eyes watered. His chest heaved erratically. His father circled him, checking every inch of Jungkook. He pulled and felt Jungkook’s silk sleepwear that he had been taken in. Over the course of the journey it had ripped and dirtied in places but even with one glance it was understandably expensive. His father spat on the ground in disgust, the men cheered and jeered. The noise woke some of their people up, they peeked out of their tents watching the prince in fascination.

              Hoseok stepped forward and bowed, “It is a pleasure to finally meet you after all these long years, I am Jung Hoseok.”

              His father stepped away from the prince, “Jung Hoseok, it really is my pleasure. None of this could be done if it weren’t for you.”

              Hoseok laughed modestly and shook his head, “Anything for this great cause.”

              His father nodded and smiled. Hoseok had passed his inspection, he would be integrated into the Red Dragons and their fight.

              “While you have been away, son, I ordered a cell to be made. Bring the prisoner there, we’ll meet in the morning to discuss further detail and I’ll acquire your mission report then,” his father clasped Yoongi on the shoulder, “I’ll have one of my men stationed outside the cell.”

              “I wish to watch over the prisoner,” Yoongi stated, “I have the mission report done.”

              His father nodded, “Okay, okay, if that’s what you want. This is your mission, I’ll abide by your opinions.”

              Yoongi bowed, “Thank you.”

              “Lee, please bring my belongings to my tent,” Yoongi ordered, “the rest of you go get some rest, thank you for working on this mission with me. You’ll get your compensation tomorrow.”

              The men took themselves and their belongings to their tents and their families. Lee took Yoongi’s horse and guided it to his primary tent. Namjoon helped Jimin down and had another man take his horse and belongings to his own tent.

              “Who is this?” Yoongi’s father asked.

              “Jimin, he is a servant of Jungkook’s,” Yoongi answered.

              His father raised an eyebrow, “A servant, aye? I thought I said the prince, and only the prince?”

              “He followed us,” Yoongi said, “he was the only one to do so.”

              “Then have him killed, we don’t need him,” Yoongi’s father waved his hand dismissively.

              Jimin squeaked and sobbed loudly, he crumbled to the ground at Namjoon’s feet. Jungkook began hyperventilating, “Please, no, no, please. I will do anything.”

              Yoongi stepped forward, “I say he lives.”

              Namjoon kneeled down and collected Jimin into his arms, trying to help him to stand. Namjoon led him to the cell they made for Jungkook. He didn’t wait for his superiors to answer.

              “We have no use for him,” his father snapped.

              “You said you would abide to my opinions,” Yoongi spoke calmly, “this is my mission, you said so yourself. This mission is to prove my worth and my dedication for when I take over. Anything that I say goes. And I wish to keep the servant alive, I may have a use for him.”

              His father nodded, “Alright. But if anything goes wrong, it’s on you, and I’ll reflect on it for when I make my final decision. Just because you’re my son doesn’t give you the right to leadership after me, we aren’t a damn monarchy.”

              His father looked pointedly at Jungkook and walked away, dismissing the council. He stalked to his tent located in the center of their camp, “Let’s go.”

              Yoongi led Jungkook to the holding cell. The walls were made out of stone and the door made out of metal. His father wasn’t playing, Yoongi had thought he had some men make a cell out of wood. This cell might just be the most expensive object within this camp. Jimin was sitting inside, curled in a corner against the door. Namjoon was standing against it with his arms crossed waiting for Yoongi and Jungkook.

              “I sent a man to get some food and water for you three,” Namjoon said, “as well as some blankets.”

              “Thank you, Nams.” Yoongi removed the rope from Jungkook’s wrists, he unlocked the cell door and ushered Jungkook in. He immediately wrapped his arms around Jimin’s shoulders and pulled him into his chest, “Go get some rest.”

              Namjoon laughed, “You must really be stupid, Min Yoongi, if you believe that you alone are going to sit up all night by yourself guarding our prisoners. If you get no sleep, I get no sleep, you should know this by now, my friend.”

              For the next three weeks Yoongi and Namjoon spent their time guarding the cell, watching and guarding over the prisoners. They took turns sleeping throughout the day but while the rest of the camp slept at night, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook, and Jimin sat up talking where no eyes or ears could spy on them. It has been quiet at the camp. There were no raids or missions, the people of the rebellion simply led normal lives. The soldiers trained while their partners and children provided food and other supplies needed for the camp.

              Since the meeting with his father the day after he returned, Yoongi has rarely seen his father or Hoseok. Often early in the morning he would see Hoseok and his father walk to the council tent and not leave until late at night. Often Yoongi noticed the two men forgo lunch and dinner. No one was allowed to enter, more than once he has seen his father throw out a servant who made the mistake of entering the tent to check if they needed anything.

              Yoongi knew they were plotting something. And Yoongi knew it had to do with the prince and his servant.

              But tonight was when Taehyung and Seokjin are scheduled to come back from their mission. They had left before Yoongi. Yoongi was there when his father sent them to the neighboring kingdom. The Red Dragons had caught wind of nobles gathering under suspicious circumstances. Yoongi’s father had wanted to see if they were forming a rebellion or uprising, especially considering the noble family attendings had been once linked to the old ruling family before the Jeon family overthrew them over a hundred years ago.

              His father was hoping his beliefs were true, he has informed Yoongi that he eventually would like to garner more nobility within the rebellion. With the support of nobility and old money, the rebellion will be able to accomplish the goals they have been striving towards since the making of it.

              Namjoon walked up to Yoongi and the cell as the sun began to set. He sat down and leaned towards Yoongi and the prisoners saying, “Taehyung and Seokjin just arrived. They’re in their tent, I left a note telling them you’ll make an appearance.”

              Yoongi nodded, “Thank you.”

              When the people went to their tents and the night guards took their positions, Yoongi snuck away to the brothers’ tent. He slipped through the flaps and bowed to the brothers. Taehyung was on the floor tending to the fire, Seokjin was sitting on his cot, shirtless, applying ointment to his scar. Taehyung bowed back and Seokjin nodded his head in greeting.

              “Namjoon left us a note,” Taehyung said, fanning the fire with a decorated hand fan. A small red tint blushed his cheeks upon saying the other’s name. Yoongi ducked his head into his chest and smiled gently.

              “Yes, he did,” Yoongi replied, “there’s something I wish to ask of you.”

              Seokjin swept his hand, “Please, sit.”

              Yoongi sat across from Taehyung, rubbing his hands towards the warmth of the fire, “This isn’t a mission granted permission from my father. In fact, he doesn’t know of this.”

              This perked the brother’s interest. They shared a look. Seokjin got up from his cot and sat on the floor with them, keeping a distance from the fire, preferring to wrap a blanket around his shoulders instead. “What is it?”

              Yoongi licked his lips, “You mustn’t tell anyone. Namjoon and the two prisoners are the only ones who I have discussed this with.”

              Taehyung cocked his head, “The prisoners?”

              “I thought the prince was the only one?” Seokjin asked.

              “Right, you just arrived back. The prince’s servant followed us, we were required to bring him back,” Yoongi explained.

              The brother’s shared another look and nodded to each other. Yoongi took this as a sign to continue, “But another newcomer has graced his presence in our group. His name is Jung Hoseok, a nobleman’s bastard son who was sent to the Royal Palace to train as a knight. He has been in contact with my father for some years, kidnapping the prisoner to hold as ransom was his idea, according to my father. But there’s something off about him, I can’t explain it, but I trust my instincts. Namjoon shares the same feeling as I do. He was Jungkook’s head guard, and when we discovered Jimin stalking us along the way, he spoke to the servant leading on more than it seemed.”

              “What do you mean?” the brother’s asked in sync.

              “It seemed like he knew Jimin was there or that he knew Jimin was going to arrive,” Yoongi said, “Prince Jungkook trusts Jimin, and therefore I do. But there might be something neither are willing to say.”

              “You want us to watch Jimin and Hoseok?” Taehyung asked.

              “Mainly Hoseok,” Yoongi said, “but if you can, try and learn about Jimin. I know you have men on the outside. Namjoon and Prince Jungkook don’t know I want you to spy on Jimin, this stays between us. Is that clear?”

              Seokjin nodded in agreement, Taehyung hesitated but went along with his brother. Yoongi grabbed Taehyung’s hand and gave it a light squeeze, “I know you don’t like to keep things from Namjoon, seeing as he’s your lover. But Namjoon has taken to Jimin like an older brother to his younger sibling, and I’m not sure if he’ll agree with me on this aspect.”

               “I understand,” Taehyung said, “I’ll do as you wish.”

              “Thank you,” Yoongi bowed, “if it begins to get in between your relationship, which I know you know how to divide work and life, you’ll no longer need to continue through with it. Seokjin can focus on Jimin and you can focus on Hoseok if that makes it easier, but please do help each other out.”

              Taehyung’s lips twitched, “Thank you.”

              Seokjin patted his brother’s shoulder, “We’ll still be working together, we’ll compare notes and information.”

              Deciding to take a turn on the topic, Yoongi teases Taehyung, “You and Namjoon are sickeningly adorable,” Yoongi smirked, “when are you going to make it official?”

              Taehyung stiffened, “This isn’t the time nor place to discuss this, it’s unprofessional.”

              Seokjin looked at Yoongi and rolled his eyes and smiles, “Thank you for trusting and believing in us enough to assign this mission to us.”

              “I know you’re loyal men,” Yoongi began, “you always do amazing work. There are no other people here I trust enough with this. Please come to me when you have any solid leads.”

              Yoongi bowed once again and got up. Seokjin and Taehyung bowed and said their goodnights. Yoongi peered through the flaps of the tent and when he cleared that no one was watching he slipped out the tent. He joined the others at the cell.

              “Is it done?” Namjoon asked.

              “It is,” Yoongi clapped his friend on the back, “go see Taehyung.”

              Namjoon stood up quickly, ringing his hands, “Are you sure? Will you be okay for a few minutes?”

              “A few minutes?” Yoongi scoffed, “don’t return for a few hours. You haven’t seen him for nearly two months, go.”

              Namjoon scurried off to the brothers’ tent. Yoongi watched his best friend in adoration. Namjoon had never shown interest in any other person besides Yoongi, he had always remained loyal and faithful to him. But Yoongi knew he needed this independence, something he had for himself that he didn’t share with Yoongi. Taehyung makes Namjoon incredibly happy, and therefore makes Yoongi incredibly happy. For years the two had skittered around each other, looking at one another with love when the other was unaware.

              “Taehyung? As in one of the men you assigned to watch Hoseok?” Prince Jungkook asked. He leaned against the bars. Jimin sat pressed against him, shivering slightly against the cold night air.

              “Yes, the younger brother of Seokjin,” Yoongi explained, “Taehyung and Namjoon are romantically involved.”

              Jimin sat back in shock. Jungkook gaped, opening and closing his mouth several times, “Is that allowed?”

              Yoongi hesitated to speak, seeing as homosexuality is illegal within the kingdom. Yoongi has heard stories of men and women being dragged from their homes and villages to be trailed at the capital. No matter the outcome, they were always hung with their bodies left out on display to teach any of “their kind” a lesson. Within the rebellion, there are people who aren’t heterosexual, even a few of their greatest soldiers preferring the company of those of the same gender. The rebellion doesn’t force them to convert or force them to hide their sexuality, but the rebellion doesn’t fight for their rights either.

              Whenever a member of that community wishes to enter the rebellion, they’re welcomed with open arms just as any other person. His father makes it clear to them that they’ll be provided with a safe haven with food and shelter and protection, but the rebellion won’t be trying to fight for their right to love who they love. To say the least, no one had a problem with homosexuality, but no one embraced it.

              It was one of the many reasons Taehyung and Namjoon have decided to keep their partnership a secret, except to a select few.

              It also proved how Namjoon had begun to trust the prisoners, if anyone else were present he wouldn’t have acted the way he had, like a love-sick puppy reuniting with its master.

              “It’s allowed, we don’t discriminate,” Yoongi began, “but we don’t fight for their rights the way we do with women and the poor.”

              “Why?” Jungkook asked.

              To say the least, it wasn’t the reply Yoongi was expecting, “Why what?”

              “Why do you not fight for their rights?” Jungkook asked again. Jimin pulled on Jungkook’s sleeve, shaking his head.

              Yoongi cocked an eyebrow, “It’s the way of my father-” and before Jungkook could fight back, “when I take over, I intend to change that.”

              Jungkook sat back, “Oh.”

              “But I don’t believe now is the time to be concerned with the belief system of this rebellion. If you had forgotten, you’re our prisoners,” Yoongi turned his back to them and leaned against the cell bars, “tomorrow we should be expecting the reply from your father, the king. It has been well over two weeks since the ransom note has been carried to him. Hopefully he didn’t kill the errand boy.”

              “What did you demand?” Jimin asked, his voice the usual squeak of a mouse. Yoongi has come to learn over the course of the three weeks in his presence that his voice rises when asking a question, Yoongi associating it with nervousness. As a servant he wasn’t allowed to ask questions to his superiors, the boy mustn’t be used to it.

              “We asked for lower taxes, property and work taxes to be cut in half,” Yoongi said, “we’ve done the math, and even with the taxes cut in half, the amount of work and the high population of peasants would still provide enough income to the royal palace to keep this kingdom the richest one among the three. But we demanded that the nobles be taxed as well to compensate for the decrease in taxes among the peasants. As well as for it to be made a crime for a knight to take a woman by force, it’s too common among the villages. Many of the children here aren’t children born from the people of the rebellion, but orphans born out of rape of a peasant girl by a solder.”

              “Th-that is common?” Jungkook whispered.

              “Yes,” Yoongi replied, his voice almost just as soft and low, “my father is one of those children.”

              “That would technically make him nobility, then?” Jungkook spoke but as if to himself.

              “Technically, I suppose. The knight, his father and my grandfather, would have been a nobleman’s son. Most likely a second or third son who wouldn’t inherit the estate or village, and instead made a knight to keep their social status and connections to the king. But he would still be a bastard, nonetheless. Not every bastard has a father as caring as Hoseok’s.”

              “Caring? His father made him into a knight by force because he no longer wanted to care for him,” Jimin spoke up, if Yoongi was right there was hidden anger bubbling beneath the surface of the servant.

              “Yes, I call that caring,” Yoongi looked over his shoulder, “most bastard children would never be acknowledged or provided for. Hoseok was given a job, shelter, and maintained a high social status. It’s more than any of the children here have been given by their noble family, the only gift they granted them with was birth.”

              “Everything you demanded,” Jungkook curved the conversation, “it’s, it’s very admirable I must admit.”

              “I’ve heard tales about this rebellion from other servants,” Jimin said, “it has almost become like a fairy-tale or a myth. When our duties are done for the night, down in the servants’ quarters we will surround ourselves by the small fire and the older maids will tell us about the Red Dragons and all their great accomplishments. Some of the servants praise and admire this rebellion, some even wishing to join. Others do not agree, but from what I have seen it’s because they are being told the wrong truths.”

              “Which side were you on?” Yoongi asked.

              “I was on the disagreeing side,” Jimin looked up briefly and then back down to his lap, “I was told the Red Dragons wanted to overthrow the royal family and claim the throne for themselves, I did not wish to see my prince in danger. But now that I see that it isn’t true, I must agree with Jungkook. Though I do not agree with how you accomplish some of it, what you fight for is compelling.”

              “I, myself, don’t agree with how we handle things as well,” Yoongi said looking straight into Jungkook’s big doe eyes, with a glimmer of something there that Yoongi didn’t know the meaning behind. The corners of Jungkook’s mouth twitched just enough to catch Yoongi’s attention, and how it made his heart pound against his chest. Yoongi turned fully around, resting on his knees in front of the bars. His hands gripping them tightly.

              “When I am king,” Jungkook gripped the bars, his hands sitting just above Yoongi’s. He could feel the shake and quiver of them against his, “I wish to comply with the Red Dragons. Work side by side with them, with you, to create a better kingdom. A kingdom it seems my father has been causing mayhem in.”

              Yoongi flushed, the words ‘with you’ repeating itself over and over again in his head, “You really didn’t know what was going on outside the palace walls?”

              Jungkook shook his head, moving his hands just a bit lower, “No, my father told me nothing and warned the servants not to either. Jimin has often told me small things but nothing more. But I have seen the outside, thanks to you, I have passed by villages and seen my people bleed and sweat into their work just for their money to be taken by my father. And I finally know why my father has locked me away for my life, he wanted to raise me to be just as he is.”

              Jimin blushed profusely, his face and neck burning with a deep red, he made a cross over his heart and a circle over his forehead while peering up at the sky, “Please, if the king were to find out I told you about the outside he would have my head severed on a stick.”

              Jungkook took his servant’s hand, “I would never allow that to happen, you are my closest friend, and you are like a brother to me.”

              Jimin mumbled a few words in a foreign language. It was the clearest Yoongi has heard it, and he knew where Jimin is from, “You’re from the southern kingdom, are you not?”

              Jungkook and Jimin blanched. Jimin gripped onto Jungkook and begged and pleaded with his eyes for the prince to do something. Yoongi continued, “You are, aren’t you? The southern kingdom hasn’t been a kingdom for the past two decades, this kingdom killed the king and his heirs and stole everything within it. The tribes there all fled.”

              Jimin sighed, “Yes, I am from the southern kingdom. I was the last of the children born there. I was three when this kingdom overran my kingdom. I was from a small fishing tribe along the ocean, most of my tribesmen were killed or taken as slaves for the king. They left the children to starve and die from the elements. But another fishing tribe was able to escape the raids, we had an alliance with this tribe, and they came and collected all the children. For years we hid from this kingdom for years. This kingdom did not want anything from my kingdom once they found out we consisted of tribes, with the tribal leader as our ‘king’.”

              Yoongi held up a hand, “I’m sorry, can you explain how the southern kingdom works?”

              Jimin nodded, speaking slower, “The southern kingdom is made up of tribes. We weren’t united the way this kingdom is, you have separated villages but you’re still united. We had tribes, and each tribe specialized in a trade. Mine was in charge of fishing, as many other tribes were, because the southern kingdom contained land around the oceanfront. But there were often tribal wars, we fought over land and trade. Each tribe did have a tribal leader who led and controlled the tribe. We were allied with some tribes, but enemies with others. We have no king, each tribe as their own leader. I don’t know where you gained that false information from.”

              “That is not what my father told everyone when he returned,” Jungkook said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

              “We were not a united kingdom, we were consisted of tribes. We had no border with the other kingdoms, but we stayed within our own tribal boundaries that we established when we settled down thousands of years ago. No other kingdom had tried to attack us before, they knew what and who we were. We had an unwritten agreement with them, we always provided other kingdoms with fish and shellfish and other tribes provided meat that they specialized in.” Jimin explained.

              “Why did my father lie to all of us about the southern kingdom having a king and actually being a kingdom?” Jungkook sat back in shock, “Jimin why have you not told me this before?”

              “The king ordered you to be kept in the dark about everything,” Jimin whispered his eyes pleading for understanding, “the king knew I was from the southern kingdom, he allowed me to keep working within the royal walls if I did not reveal anything about my home. He does not even know that you know that I am from the southern kingdom.”

              “Then why are you telling Jungkook this now?” Yoongi asked.

              Jimin shrugged his shoulders slightly, “We are no longer under watch from the royal guards and the king. Jungkook has been taken out of the walls and he has seen life on the outside. He going to find out more than just the southern kingdom. It is partly my fault for keeping Jungkook in the dark, I should be the one helping bring him into the light.”

              Jungkook gripped his servant’s hand, “you are not to blame, you always tried to tell me anything that you can about life on the outside. And I know you are terrified of my father, but I promise nothing will come of harm to you. With my short time with this rebellion I have come to think that being kidnapped has been more beneficial than harmful.”

              “My prince?” Jimin appeared shocked, Yoongi more so though.

              “I would never have been allowed outside the palace until I became king, and there is no prediction for when that day will be upon us. I would have been kept in secret until then, I would have complied to everything my father said and, in the end, become a replica of him. Though being taken against my will was not a comfortable feeling and put me in great stress and inner turmoil, I have come to trust Yoongi, and Namjoon. I know he cares greatly for me, I see it in his actions. I know he did not feel comfortable kidnapping me either but was doing so only on his father’s orders which I understand completely. Yoongi has true and honest intentions for the future of this kingdom. He is the one showing me what I have been missing out on.”

              Yoongi was speechless, he had not expected Jungkook to reveal his emotions to bluntly and honest as he did. And despite Jimin being present, Yoongi could not help but feel as if it were only the two of them. But Yoongi wonders if Jungkook would feel the same if he knew how the feelings Yoongi’s heart has began harvesting for him if he would still feel the same way that he does. Jungkook has seem to be supportive