Chapter Text
Every year the King held a masquerade ball for the Prince’s birthday. All the nobles in the land and the royals from the neighbouring kingdoms were invited. It was a time of much merriment for all.
All except, Prince Yoongi himself.
Jungkook had heard of the Prince, of his ethereal beauty but expressionless face. How no one had ever seen his smile, or heard laughter fall from his lips. How he refused all the suitors come to woo him, despite his father’s pleading for him to unite with one of the other lands and strengthen their Kingdom by marrying a princess or noble lady. He’d heard all this and more, heard about all who tried and failed to draw out the Prince’s smile, to capture his heart. He’d heard, but was yet to see for himself.
And oh, how he longed to.
This was the first year he would be attending the royal ball, finally of age now. He couldn’t help the excitement, the curiosity brewing inside him as the carriage pulled up to the palace. He stepped out of the vehicle once the coachman opened the door, looking up in awe at the magnificent building. Blinking out of it, he moved to the side and turned back to offer a hand to his mother, his brother following after her. They made their way up the grand marble staircase and into the ballroom, lead by some palace workers.
Jungkook was used to luxury, being the son of one of the richest families in the kingdom, but even their impressive abode didn’t compare to this. The hall was impossibly large, already filled with expensively-clad guests milling about the glistening white floor. Tables of refreshments lined the intricately patterned walls, and at the head of the room were some steps leading up to a platform, where the royal family sat. Jungkook and his family weaved their way through the crowd until they reached them, a servant introducing them as they bowed respectfully. Immediately, Jungkook’s eyes were glued to the prince. Even with the delicate butterfly masquerade hiding his features, his beauty shone through and captivated Jungkook, stealing the breath right from his lungs. For a brief moment, they made eye contact, and it was as if everything around them stopped, the welcoming words of the King muffled to Jungkook’s ears. Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away to follow his mother and brother back onto the floor, but he split from them once she settled into mindless gossip with one of her friends.
He headed to one of the refreshment tables and picked up a glass of wine, turning to look once more upon the prince, regarding him as he swirled the wine. Already, a line of girls was starting to form in front of him, encouraged by the King and Queen, hoping that finally he might accept one of them.
Jungkook took a sip.
The ball commenced, and women turned away from the prince, disappointed, found other men to dance with. Jungkook stayed at the side, carefully watching the Prince sit alone, expressionless behind his mask. He was intrigued.
He finished his drink and placed it decisively down on the table again, before making a plate of a few snacks, and picking the prettiest rose from one of the decorative bouquets. The prince looked almost sad, adamantly looking away from the ball floor as though it hurt him to watch.
Jungkook cleared his throat to get his attention and the prince startled a little.
“Your highness,” Jungkook said, bowing his head. “Care for some refreshments?”
The prince scoffed. “You think food will win me over? Very original.”
“Well, actually, I just thought you might be hungry over here.”
“Oh. Thanks, then.” The prince reluctantly took a slice of cake and nibbled at it. “So who are you here for? Your sister? Cousin? Mother? Because I can tell you now, I’m not interested.”
“For— oh,” Jungkook shook his head. “No one. I’m here for myself. Or rather, for you, Prince Yoongi.” He took the moment to offer the rose to the young prince, bowing deeply again with one arm behind his back, but lifting his head to keep eye contact.
Yoongi’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
Jungkook tucked the rose into the lapel of the Prince’s cobalt velvet suit, patting it gently once it was in place. Yoongi continued to look on with surprise.
At that moment, the court minstrels began to play a new piece of music. A pretty, slow song lead by the violins.
“May I have this dance, your highness?” he asked, offering his hand.
Yoongi hesitated before taking it, letting Jungkook lead them down the steps and onto the floor. The guests parted for them, shocked that for the first time in years, the Prince was dancing, but the two barely noticed the circle forming around them, definitely didn’t notice the King’s more than displeased expression.
“You’re even more beautiful than the people say,” Jungkook whispered.
“You can’t even see my face,” Yoongi replied, ducking his head.
“I can see enough.”
They danced in silence for a time, Jungkook unable to look away from the Prince’s face, until the latter grew uncomfortable with the crowd around them, the whisperings and looks, and pulled Jungkook away, leading him quickly by the hand out of the ballroom. They pass through an intricately curated garden to a gazebo at the bottom, the pillars of its sides decorated with vines of leaves and pretty pink flowers. Jungkook would have spent more time admiring the surroundings, but Yoongi carefully removed his mask, drawing Jungkook’s full attention.
“Wow,” he slipped out unconsciously.
Yoongi was stunning. His features were soft, almost cat-like in a way, all gentle sloping lines and flawless skin. Jungkook wanted nothing more than to cup his round cheek, to kiss his button nose and plush lips. He shook himself out of it and lifted his own red and silver mask off too.
“You know, you’re the first man to try and woo me,” Yoongi spoke up, leaning forward against the railing and gazing out over the river ahead. Jungkook, in turn, watched him.
“Is that why you let me dance with you? Is that why you refuse all those princesses and ladies?”
Yoongi hummed. “In part.”
“Why else?”
Sighing, Yoongi said, “My father. I know it’s my duty one day to take over the Kingdom and produce an heir, but I can’t help that I’m— that I’m just not attracted to women. Maybe I’d be willing to do it, but the way my father reacted when he found out… it’s petty I know.”
Jungkook shook his head. “What happened, what did he do?”
Yoongi began to trace patterns in the wooden railing of the gazebo, gaze locked on the floor.
“When I was a boy, I fell in love with the groundkeeper’s son. I was young and innocent, I didn’t even know I’d done anything wrong. But my father was furious. He fired the groundskeeper there and then, and banned him and his family from ever coming back. He— he hit me, but then he did something worse.” Yoongi took a shaky breath in and Jungkook felt the need to place a hand on his shoulder for comfort, gently squeezing it.
“He didn’t tell me what he was planning, but he called in a sorceress, asked her to remove my ‘unnatural feelings’ and make me normal… I don’t know if he knew the risks he took with that, but the spell didn’t work. Instead i lost all feelings of love altogether, and most positive feelings in general too.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry, your highness.”
Yoongi hummed, tried a weak smile. “It’s not your fault.” He patted the hand that rested on his shoulder.
“Is there a way to reverse it? There must be.”
“The sorceress couldn’t,” the prince shook his head. “If there is a way, we haven’t found it. And I’m not sure my parents care enough to try. I guess I should just be glad they haven’t already forced me to marry,” he chuckled weakly, forced. "It's probably only a matter of time, though."
Jungkook frowned in thought. “True love’s kiss.”
Yoongi looked up at him, tilting his head. “What?”
“True love’s kiss! Maybe that could reverse the spell?”
Yoongi laughed in disbelief. “I doubt that. I can’t love, remember?”
“But you have, before! What if we found the boy you loved?”
“How would that…”
“It might. It’s worth a try, is it not?”
Yoongi rubbed his nape, looking out over the garden again as he pondered it. “I guess so,” he finally decided. “Joonie… I’d see Joonie again.”
A soft, reminiscent smile appeared on Yoongi’s face as he relived his childhood memories. Jungkook smiled too, purely because the Prince was.
“His name is Joonie?”
“Namjoon,” he corrected, turning his smile towards Jungkook. “May I have yours? I’m terribly sorry but we were introduced to so many guests today that I—”
“It’s Jungkook,” he cut him off, smiling gently. “Jeon Jungkook.”
It was true that Jungkook wanted the Prince for himself, and his original intention was to try his hand at wooing him, to be the first to see beneath the blank exterior. But now that he had, he just wanted to help him, even if that meant he wouldn’t get to taste him for himself. At least he would get to see him smile. Even the small, forced smiles Yoongi put on were pretty, Jungkook couldn’t imagine how beautiful a genuine one would look on the Prince’s delicate features. Yoongi was often nicknamed “the Ice Prince” by the people, but Jungkook now knew that was totally wrong; Yoongi had nothing but warmth in his heart. The one who better suited that name was his father, the King.
“We should probably head back to the ball…” Yoongi spoke up again after a moment. “Um… meet me tomorrow by the fountain in the main square. Midday. We can… discuss the plan.”
Jungkook nodded quickly. “Of course. I really hope we find him, that it works.”
Yoongi gave him a hopeful smile. “Me too.”
He carefully placed his mask on again and pushed away from the railing, turning back expectantly for Jungkook to follow. So he did, fastening his mask on again as they walked back to the ballroom.
Everyone’s eyes landed on them as they entered once again. Jungkook quickly located the King, and this time noticed the fury etched on his face. He frowned and on instinct, stepped closer to the Prince and placed an arm around him. Yoongi looked up at him at the action, surprised, but settled into Jungkook’s side.
“What do you say we dance again? Ignore everyone else.”
Surprisingly, Yoongi nodded easily and Jungkook smiled, quickly turning to place his hands on Yoongi’s waist. Their eyes remained locked the whole time, and it was surprisingly easy to ignore the judgmental stares from the other guests. It felt nice, and Jungkook was almost sad that he couldn’t have Yoongi for himself. Especially when all he could think about, here, dancing through this elegant ball room with Yoongi in his arms, was how much he wanted to kiss him. In the end, as the night drew to a close, he did plant a brief kiss on the Prince’s cheek, below the butterfly mask. Yoongi’s lips parted in surprise, a hand coming up to the touch the spot Jungkook’s lips had been.
“It was nice to meet you, my Prince,” Jungkook bowed politely. “Until tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Yoongi repeated. “Thank you, Jungkook.”
Jungkook smiled, lingering on to Yoongi’s hand for as long as he could, until he had to go.
“What was that, Jungkook?” his mother asked, tone accusing.
“What?”
“With the Prince? You’re not—”
“I just wanted to know him,” Jungkook cut her off. “I just wanted to see if the rumours were true. And then he let me, when I didn’t think he would. That’s all.”
“The Prince has never just… just let people know him. This is… Jungkook, do you think you could put in a good word for me to him?”
“Mother!”
“He needs to marry, and so do I. Of course, a Princess from a different land would be preferable for them, but the Ice Prince is well, ice. If you’ve managed to melt that, he might accept me, however. We’re still a powerful family; I know the King would approve.”
“Mother, he’s—you’re twice his age.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “A minor detail. Just promise me you’ll bring it up, if you manage to speak to him again.”
Jungkook sighed and nodded, although he had no intention of doing any such thing. He knew even if he did, Yoongi would never accept such a proposal. But he nodded just to satiate his mother for the time being.
They arrived home and Jungkook kissed her on the cheek before bidding her goodnight, and heading up to his chambers, only one thing—one person on his mind.