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Chapter Text

Jin is just dragging the last crate of grains and rice onto the peeling distribution table, Jimin and Hoseok still hastily clearing off the crumbs and remains of the last one, when Taehyung bursts through the endless lined up families patiently waiting for food. Taehyung’s eyes are shiny with distress, and his chest is heaving, clearly having run the entire way here from his shift at the central village post office. Jin straightens, worried, and Jimin is immediately at Taehyung’s side, tugging him towards them with a firm arm around on his shoulders and concern bright in his surprised gaze. 

As Hoseok waves the three of them off with a troubled expression and turns to brightly smile at the next family and cheerily distribute their portion of food, Jimin and Jin usher Taehyung into the dingy back room, pushing him into a chair to catch his breath. Taehyung shoves the crumbled sheet of paper clutched tightly in his fist towards them, and they lean forward, tilting it into the dim light to read it. Jin’s stomach sinks at the sight of the official seal of the duke, and even more so at the terse, smug official proclamation printed boldly across the sheet.

Duke Jeon of Garba West does officially proclaim that until the moment when all required village taxes have been paid in full, the withering curse will not be lifted from the fields. 

Jimin slams his fist on the table, and Taehyung grits his teeth and rises from the chair, breath caught now and anger bright in his eyes, echoing the rage rising in Jin’s own chest. It has been a full month since the tyrant duke placed a curse on the crops that has withered the fields and killed the produce, has destroyed the incomes of all the surrounding villages that are meant to be under the duke’s care and maintenance. For as long as Jin can remember, the duke has ruled the area with cruelty and callousness, rich and arrogant and uncaring, spending the funds allocated to their villages by the kingdom on elegant balls for himself and his wealthy friends, and extravagant nonsense celebrations for his son. 

And the villages have always managed, have planted their own crops and expanded their fields and sold to nearby areas, traded and maintained their own supplies and repairs, and helped each other through the difficult years. But now the duke has weaponized his magic against them, and there’s never been a way to combat magic. As it is, so few people have magic anymore, and those who do are all descended from the wealthiest of families. Jin’s parents had been afraid that despite very low odds, the duke’s son would somehow have been born with magic, and would have maintained his tyranny even after the duke eventually succumbed to old age. Thankfully, the magical legacy will die with the duke, as the son had been born with no magical ability, as was more likely anyhow. 

Taehyung and Jimin are whispering urgently to each other behind him, but Jin leans his head on the peeling wood of the wall and exhales. The weather is already starting to get colder, the edges of autumn blowing in frigid and dry. The duke had cast the curse and sworn it would be lifted at the end of the month, had originally said it was a punishment for the original missed tax that the villages had then scrambled and struggled and gone hungry to pay in full. And it hadn’t mattered, apparently, because he wasn’t going to lift it after all, and if the crops withered for another two weeks, they wouldn’t have the food the villages needed to survive this winter. He leans up to peer through the streaked window, to see Hoseok still hurriedly sorting and handing out food to the families waiting, as they’ve been trying to do for weeks, with however much remains. But it won’t be enough, and they can’t pay the tax, and they can’t starve. Jin sighs, closes his eyes, and nods to himself. He and Namjoon are going to have to move up their plan.

“Jimin, Taehyung,” Jin murmurs, not turning to face them, unable to lighten his expression from the heavy worry settled into the lines of his face. “Tell the others to meet at our spot tonight. We… we have a plan.” 

Everyone’s already arrived at the makeshift cabin and are agitatedly discussing the duke’s announcement when Hoseok hurries in, kissing Jin and Namjoon hurriedly in greeting before sinking down beside Jimin on the couch, reaching over to tilt Jimin’s face towards him for a soft kiss. Food distribution had run even longer today, more families than ever waiting the endless hours in line for the scraps of grain and rice and produce he’d been able to provide. The situation was only getting more dire, and the announcement from the duke today was a crushing blow. 

Hoseok looks down at where Taehyung is slumped on the ground, listlessly running his fingers up and down his shin, and grimaces. There has to be a way out, there always is, and they’d always managed, but he just doesn’t see how the villages can make it if the curse continues on another even another week, much less any longer. Hoseok’s mother had passed away when he was young, but his father has always worked so hard for him and his sister, and even after his longest shifts, his father has always been cheery, always smiling for them and lifting their spirits. And Hoseok tries to be the same for his boyfriends, to be their strength and hope, to show them smiles and persistence, but this has been such a hard year, and now they know it isn’t going to ease. 

Yoongi is lying across Jimin’s lap beside him, eyes closed as Jimin strokes gently through his dark hair, both their faces drawn with exhaustion. Jimin and his brother take extra shifts doing deliveries to other villages to support their aging parents, and Yoongi sometimes works long past his night shifts into the morning when elderly Mister Kim who is supposed to help in the mornings isn’t feeling up to it. Hoseok drops a hand to Yoongi’s shoulder, shaking his head. All his boyfriends work too hard and too long, spend their time too exhausted, and Yoongi’s voice is laden with it when he responds helplessly to Taehyung's anxious murmur, “But there’s nothing we can do.” Over his head, Jin and Namjoon glance at each other, and Jin nods firmly.

“There is.” Namjoon looks around at them all, and his voice is as steady as his gaze. “We need to break the curse.” Taehyung’s head shoots up, Jimin’s hand freezes, and Yoongi’s eyes fly open.

“Can we do that?” Jimin whispers, uncertainty battling with faint hope. 

Hoseok tries to keep his voice open, to keep the frustration out. “If the curse could be broken, someone would’ve broken it. The only person in the entire region with magic is the duke, and he’s already said what we’d have to do for him to break it.” 

“I researched it.” Namjoon says earnestly, then glances at Jin. “We both did. And we… we found something.” 

Jin nods. “The night of the full moon, any curse can be broken. The moon will be full in four days. We can break it then. We need to break it then.” He sighs deeply, and Hoseok leans forward to link their hands, tugging Jin towards them to stand beside the couch and wrapping an arm around his waist. Jin leans into him, dropping his head against Hoseok’s before he goes on. “Some of the families won’t last until next month’s full moon, and the duke… he isn’t going to break it, and we can’t pay him just to starve, we can’t let the villages sell the food for the winter just to pay.” 

“How does the curse break?” Yoongi asks sharply, sitting up on the couch and leaning forwards. “What do we do on the night of the full moon?” 

Namjoon straightens. “There’s a cursed clearing, in Gaba Forest. We’d need to go there.” He sounds hesitant, and Jimin narrows his eyes beside Hoseok. 

“And what do we have to do there?”

Jin sighs against Hoseok, and he can feel his trepidation.

“We have to spill the blood of the castor in the clearing at midnight under the full moon.” 

Taehyung gaps quietly, and Hoseok can feel his mind racing. It’s Yoongi who asks in a low voice, “How much blood?” 

“All of it.” Namjoon answers grimly. “It has to be a sacrifice.” 

Jin isn’t making eye contact when Hoseok looks up at him in shock, but Taehyung grabs at his hand, frightened. 

“What difference does this make?” Jimin asks quietly, tightening his hand in a fist against his knee. “We’d never get anywhere near the duke with the castle security, not to mention his magic. No one could get him to the forest.” 

“We have a plan.” Jin murmurs, sinking down beside Taehyung to wrap an arm around him. “We need the duke’s blood and its life sacrifice in the clearing, but we don’t need the duke himself or his blood.” 

Hoseok stares, confused. “How… you said all his blood, how-” 

Taehyung gasps, eyes wide, and Hoseok frowns with confusion as Jin nods solemnly at him. 

“What?” Yoongi asks sharply. 

“His son.” Jimin says in a hard voice. 

The realization hits Hoseok like a blunted blow, and he leans back with a deep exhale, resentment simmering. The duke’s mysterious son Jeon Jungkook is of age now. There had been an enormous feast at the castle, the rich of the countryside pouring in and not a single member of any of the villages under the duke’s care invited. Hoseok and his boyfriends had foraged through the duke’s castle trash for hours after the gaudy celebration, and the sheer amount of food that had been tossed untouched had made their blood boil. The uncaring arrogance of it as the villages nearby starved and struggled, all in celebration of the duke’s spoiled son coming of age when none of them had ever had the privilege to celebrate something like that. It still incenses Hoseok to think about the elegant balls the castle has thrown over the years, especially the ridiculous birthday parties every single year. The spotless carriages would glide past him as he sweated in the fields for hours, pulling crops that would inevitably be confiscated by the palace and thrown away after being picked at by the rich. 

“His son has his blood.” Namjoon says wearily. “He isn’t magic, so it would be easier to get him to the clearing, and… it would break the curse.” 

“But he didn’t cast the curse.” Taehyung mumbles, not looking up, and Jin tightens the arm around his shoulders, looking troubled. 

“It would work. We confirmed it, there are hundreds of cases that show precedent.” Namjoon is confident and sure, but it sits uneasy in Hoseok’s mind. Jimin brings the discomfort to voice a moment later, hesitant and slow. 

“But he… he’s innocent.” 

“Is he?” Yoongi muttered. “He didn’t cast the curse himself but he’s lived off the riches of our misery this whole time. His stupid feasts for his birthdays every year.” Yoongi looks up at them, shoulders hunched defensively. “No one’s even seen him, he’s too arrogant to show his face to anyone not rich enough to be allowed into his stupid castle. He’s never come to the village before, never stood up to the duke about anything. He’s probably the exact same.” 

Jin sighs. “It isn’t fair, not really. He’s a bad person, but he isn’t the one who cast the curse, and it isn’t fair for him to be forced to die for his father’s mistakes.” Jin looks down at his hand and clenches his fingers into a fist, and his voice is resolute as he continues. “But it’s more unfair for hundreds of us to starve this winter if we don’t.” 

“We can’t get the duke, or we’d sacrifice him to break the curse.” Namjoon says insistently. “But we can get the son.”

Hoseok still feels slightly troubled, but with the duke’s announcement today and the full moon looming, he can’t think of another solution. Jeon Jungkook is a different evil than his father, but the children and elderly and families of the village shouldn’t die for the boy’s father’s mistakes if the boy himself can. 

“We can’t let them starve, but…” Jimin says slowly. 

“But nothing.” Taehyung whispers defeatedly. “We have to. We… we have to.” 

There’s a moment of tense silence between them, then Yoongi clears his throat. 

“How would we do this?”

Namjoon nods, turning to pace slowly, concentrating. 

“Tomorrow at dawn, the carriages will leave to take the duke’s son from the castle to their winter estate in Qarya Town. We intercept him right out of the castle, and if we make good time, we can make it to Gaba Forest hours almost half a day before the full moon. 

Hoseok wraps his hands around his elbows, uncertain. “We tie him up and drag him through the woods for two days to get there? It’s a long journey.” 

Jin shakes his head. “I actually had an idea about that.” Namjoon looks uncomfortable, but Jin shoots him a look and continues. “I don’t think taking him by force is the best way.” 

“You think he’ll come to his death by choice?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, and Hoseok shares his skepticism. 

“No,” Namjoon sighs. “What we think is that he’s arrogant and foolish, and that it’ll be a lot faster to travel with him if he’s with us by choice, or thinks he is.” 

“How?” Taehyung asks, confused. 

Jin runs a hand up and down Taehyung’s shoulder, voice quiet and focused. “We destroy the carriage and knock out the guards, but we don’t move on him.” Jin’s gaze travels over them, intense. “He happens upon us in the woods a short distance away from there.” Jimin opens his mouth, but Jin cuts him off to keep explaining. “We tell him we’re traveling to Qarya, and that we can take him with us. He’s never been in the woods before, he’ll want the safety of numbers, and it’ll be a lot faster than restraining him and dragging him and worrying about escape attempts when we’re so short on time.” 

They’re quiet for a moment, considering. 

Jimin’s voice is quiet, contemplative. “It might… it might be better anyway. That way, his last days aren’t spent tied up and afraid.” 

“Jin said that too.” Namjoon murmurs, stepping over to lean against the wall beside them and looking down at Jin affectionately. 

“It’s risky,” Yoongi cautions, dragging long fingers through his hair. “But that does seem better from both sides.” 

Hoseok nods fervently. “He shouldn’t have to spend his last days and hours terrified and miserable.” He looks down at his hands. “Even as a bad person, rich and arrogant, he probably doesn’t know better, and… and his sacrifice will save people, so we can treat him well on the way at least.” 

Jin’s expression is tender as he looks at Jimin and Taehyung, who are now clutching each other’s hands, but his voice is bracing. “We’re going to try it this way, but only if we don’t think that will stop us from… from doing what needs to be done when we do get to the clearing.” 

There’s a moment of charged silence between them as Taehyung ducks his head and Jimin closes his eyes and exhales slowly. Then Taehyung raises his gaze to Jin’s, and it’s assured. 

“I know you’re worried about me not being to… to handle us doing this. But my village will run out of food too, and we can’t let the children starve. I know we need to do this, I know we do. You don’t have to worry about me.” Hoseok feels his eyes prickling, and slides off the couch to sit beside Taehyung and wrap an arm around his shoulders, to tilt their heads together. Jimin is smiling faintly, and leans forward to kiss each of them lightly before he looks up at the rest, determined. 

“I wish there was another way, but there isn’t. I know we need to do this. And I’m going to try my best to be kind to him until we get to the clearing.” 

Hoseok takes a deep breath. “We’ll do our best by him, even if he treats us horribly, and then we’ll do what needs to be done.” He leans into the warmth of Namjoon’s hand on his shoulder. “It’s all down to luck sometimes, right? Us being born into the families we were, his being born into royalty, being born to the duke. His luck’s just… run out. He’s going to have to answer for the crimes of his father.” 

Yoongi sounds disgruntled as he leans back. “He owes us anyway. He owes us for all his years in luxury while we starved, while we sifted through their garbage and redistributed their scraps. He’s going to look down on us like his disgusting father, but I’ll treat him well for as long as he isn’t a threat.” 

“We’re all in agreement then?” Jin asks with a sobering finality, and they all nod tersely.

“Then get some sleep.” Namjoon murmurs, reaching down to tug Hoseok to his feet. “Jeon Jungkook’s carriage leaves at dawn, and we need to be waiting for it. Timing is going to be everything if we want to make it to the clearing before midnight Friday.” 

“To breaking the curse.” Hoseok whispers, and their low answering echoes are almost soothing in their shared anxiety. 

“To breaking the curse.” 

He leans up to kiss Namjoon and Jin hard, knowing how this must have weighed on their shoulders, knowing they don’t like it, hate it, probably. He leans down to kiss Taehyung soft, to kiss Jimin gentle, before he hugs them and sends them off, the walk to their side of the village being the longest. Yoongi appears at his side a moment later, linking their hands together. They’ll discuss supplies on the way back to the small cottage they share, and Jin will gather the medical supplies they need for the journey, and Namjoon will stop by the wares to gather what food they’ll need. 

Yoongi’s warm weight beside him in bed is comforting as always that night, and Hoseok wraps his arms tighter around the smaller body and buries his face in Yoongi’s soft hair and sighs. There’s too many swirling thoughts in his head, so much that can go wrong, so much that depends on everything going exactly the way it needs to. When he drifts uneasily into sleep, his dream is a dark forest of writhing shadows, the duke’s vile face on a younger body under the dappled moonlight, and his own hand with a dagger held before him, steady and unwavering. He wakes gasping quietly, throat dry and heart hammering, wondering what this journey will bring.

Chapter Text

By mid-morning, Taehyung is marveling at how impeccably smoothly everything goes, almost exactly as Namjoon had outlined. After they’d hurriedly walked the entire path back to Taehyung’s small cottage in anxious silence, Jimin had hardly crossed the threshold before he was pressing Taehyung against the door to kiss him deeply, to tug him towards the bed, to mouth at Taehyung’s neck and shoulders frantically until Taehyung had rolled them over and taken his turn to coax Jimin’s gasps and cries out, to thoroughly ensure they’d sink into sleep breathless and sated. 

He’d woken to Jimin’s nervous pacing, the tense line of his mouth hardly softening when Taehyung trudged over and tugged him in for a kiss. And they’d reassured each other, over and over during the meandering walk to the base of the duke’s castle, that they were doing the right thing, that this was going to work, that it would save the villages. Somehow, the words only felt less and less real the more he repeated them, and Taehyung could feel his nerves buzzing when they’d met up with the others about an hour along the path and set up the spikes for the carriage, prepared the herb-coated handkerchiefs to knock out the guards. 

The carriage rattles by precisely when they’re expecting it, and it shudders and then slams to a halt against the spikes. There are only two soldiers on the carriage, neither inside with the duke’s son, and it’s luckier than they would have imagined, sparser security than they’d expected considering the duke himself never traveled with less than three accompanying carriages of four guards each. Before the duke’s son himself has made an appearance to inquire about the harsh stop, Taehyung and Yoongi are leaping onto one side of the carriage to press the handkerchief over the guard's nose and mouth and roughly dragging him into the cover of the forest, Jimin and Hoseok taking care of the other. Namjoon is already hurrying through the woods ahead, where Jin has their small campfire ready, smoke beginning to drift up in a clear signal to draw the duke’s son towards them, just as planned. 

Taehyung doesn’t bother with gentleness when they roughly bind the unconscious soldier’s arms to a tree trunk, a ways away from the trail. The duke’s soldiers have always been cruel and vicious to the villagers without any reason, have always flaunted their power and strength and caused destruction or damage needlessly and carelessly before vanishing smugly back into their castle. Just a week ago, a soldier had barged into the market and toppled the produce stand Jin had been helping set up, and had stomped self-satisfiedly on the produce and smirked, had shoved Jin aside roughly as he’d sauntered away, knowing no one could stop him or stand in his way. Taehyung yanks the bindings tighter, frowning. The apothecary owner had warned them the herbs would cause a strong headache, and he finds himself spitefully hoping the man’s head will feel like it’s splitting open when he wakes. 

He and Yoongi arrive just seconds before Jimin and Hoseok slip into the clearing, and he heaves a relieved sigh at the sight of the other five, not having realized how unsettled he was at the sight of the soldiers when his boyfriends were out of sight. Namjoon ushers them to sit around the fire, nods, and promptly throws his head back in a pointed laugh. Jimin follows, starting a loud conversation with Jin as Yoongi pokes at the fire and Hoseok regales them with the gossip he gathered during food distribution the day prior. They keep the volume of their chatter deliberate, and Taehyung hardly has time to shift nervously before Namjoon stills and looks up, his casual conversation about the crop turnover not ceasing as he shoots them a meaningful look, but they’ve all already heard. There are hesitant footsteps just beyond their clearing, approaching slowly. Taehyung turns to Yoongi, twisting his fingers into his own shirt nervously, but everything has gone to plan so far, so of course the first unexpected thing has to be Jeon Jungkook himself. 

It isn’t just Taehyung who freezes, though Namjoon and Jin’s falters are more easily excused, as their jaws don’t quite drop as his does. But he can’t bring himself to carry on with the casual chatter or cover his reaction, because yes, no one had ever seen the duke’s son, but he wasn’t ever supposed to look like this. Jeon Jungkook is of age, he’s an adult and more than that, is the duke’s son, and he should look intimidating, the polished, fake sheen of what the wealthy consider handsome, with a face twisted with arrogance and eyes glinting with hostility, with the sense of looking down on them radiating off him in waves but this man… This is a boy.

Jeon Jungkook has big, round eyes, dark hair soft and wavy and a bit too long, and his hands are fidgeting with sleeves that swallow his fingers, making him look even smaller despite probably being about Taehyung’s height if he were standing. He looks young and wary and uncertain, and he hasn’t spoken a single word yet, but Taehyung feels an abject jerk of horror at the prospect of any of them harming him, much less killing him. There’s a dizzying rush of relief swirling through Taehyung suddenly that he isn’t going to be the one wielding the knife in the clearing, because this is just a boy and he looks far too young and soft for Taehyung to ever be able to kill him. The guilt that lances through him is blunt and staggering, because for all of his relief, this… this is going to break Namjoon. Killing the vile duke’s son was meant to be the unfortunate sacrifice of an arrogant, hostile man who at least looked like a threat, but this boy…

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Jeon Jungkook murmurs into the shocked silence, far too quiet and polite where Taehyung suddenly desperately wants him to be rude and abrasive. “I was wondering if maybe you could help me, please. My carriage broke down, and I don’t know what happened to my, um… travel companions.” 

Jimin blinks, stunned at the humility, at the lack of arrogance or demand, but Yoongi recovers faster. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Yoongi says smoothly, and Jungkook’s eyes that have been roving uncertainly between them dart to him. “Where were you headed?”

Jungkook hesitates a moment, and Taehyung braces himself. They’d discussed it earlier that morning, and Namjoon had brought up the possibility that Jungkook would try to hide being the duke’s son, that he might lie about his identity or try to conceal it.

“I’m heading for Qarya Town.” Jungkook answers, hesitant. “My… my father has an estate there.” 

“The duke’s estate?” Jin asks with feigned surprise, and Taehyung winces at the lack of subtlety as Jungkook’s eyes widen before he drops his gaze to the ground. 

“Yes,” Jungkook says quietly, face hidden beneath dark hair as he looks down. “I’m… I’m the duke’s son.” 

It isn't a boast, not even slightly, and the deference of it almost leans towards a certain... shame? They exchange looks, and Jimin nods, eyes shining with determination. 

Taehyung keeps his voice light, conversational. “Well, we’re headed in that direction for the Manta Region. If you’d like to travel with us, the estate is only about a three day’s journey.” 

Jungkook’s wide eyes locking on his makes Taehyung feel oddly breathless for a moment, the surprise and gratitude in them much too strong, and Taehyung hears a quiet gasp of surprise escape Hoseok when Jungkook promptly ducks forward in a bow. Taehyung stares, not comprehending.

“Thank you very much, I’d be very grateful! I’m sorry to impose.” 

His shock is reflected in Yoongi’s disbelieving stare when he tears his gaze away from the bizarre sight of Jungkook’s bowed head, but he doesn’t understand. The six of them are dressed like they always do, so it’s clear that they’re from the villages, their status is clearly below his, and he’s… he’s bowing to them, thanking them, and it just doesn’t make sense, it just isn’t how he’s supposed to behave, isn't how anyone they've ever met from within the castle walls behaves.

When Jungkook straightens, Namjoon waves him closer to the fire and they each take turns introducing themselves, but Taehyung is distracted, studying Jungkook closely. He doesn’t notice in his contemplation when they fall silent, waiting for him to give Jungkook his name as well. Jimin leans over to tug at Taehyung with a bright laugh, introducing him instead and shooting Jungkook a dazzling smile, and Taehyung tilts his head curiously as Jungkook’s cheeks go pink, as his gaze darts away. Because Jimin is beautiful and stunning and radiant, and royals react to that a certain way, and it isn’t this. Jimin and Jin despise the disgusting, leering attention of the turned heads they garner whenever wealthy officials deign to grace the villages with their presence, but this wasn’t that attention at all, and Taehyung feels further bewildered by the clear difference.

Jungkook’s face is still tinged pink with honest, shyly flustered admiration of Jimin’s bright smile, the way Namjoon had blushed his first and second and every time seeing it, the way Yoongi would flush when they noticed his smile soften when he spotted one of his boyfriends across the square, the way - Taehyung shakes his head, cutting the comparison off in his head. It’s too weird to even line those up, and it should feel so uncomfortable to have caught himself even seeing any similarity, but somehow it isn’t, and it’s unsettling him. 

Taehyung is still lost in his head when the others put out the fire and begin their walk, but now that he’s noticing, he can’t stop noticing Jungkook’s clear and apparent awe of them. And Jungkook is timid, shy even, not in line with any royals they’ve ever encountered, but he’s not too shy to express his admiration, to make it clear and apparent. They’ve hardly been walking half an hour when he’s quietly complimenting Yoongi’s striped nail patterning, and it’s only an hour in that Jungkook is fervently agreeing with Jin’s dramatic assertion that his globally handsome face was sculpted by the gods. Hoseok nudges Taehyung for the third time with a raised eyebrow, catching him blatantly staring at the faint pink of Jungkook’s cheeks, the glowing smile and sparkling eyes as he nods along to Jin’s continuing theatrics, and Taehyung tries to school his expression into something less blatantly dubious. Jungkook glances at him uncertainly a few times, and Taehyung must not be doing as good a job as the others in feigning nonchalance, because Namjoon falls back to walk beside him and draw him into a conversation about the changes to the village post office during the rainy season, which does well to distract him from the bewildering reality of Jeon Jungkook for a while. 

They make good time, though Jungkook does visibly tire much faster than them, a problem Hoseok had foreseen and pointed out early during preparations that morning. But their concerns about complaints and whining aren’t to be tested today, because Jungkook never speaks a word of protest. He pushes on, face getting paler and legs trembling against the strain of walking much further than he probably ever has, by far. By the time his breath is heaving out in poorly concealed pants and his knees are clearly shaking on every step, Jin calls an early lunch. Yoongi curls his lip a bit but doesn’t grumble, and Hoseok catches his eye and shrugs. It won’t delay them too much, and they should still make it with almost half a day to spare, so it’s alright to stop now and perhaps not make it quite as far by this evening as they’d originally planned. 

Even then, Jeon Jungkook surprises them again, when instead of immediately collapsing by the fire that Jimin quickly kneels to set up, he stumbles over to Namjoon, offering his help with slicing the bread and distributing the portions of the meal. When Namjoon politely declines, he rises and offers to help Hoseok collect firewood, and while Hoseok is taken aback, his expression softens and he kindly tells Jungkook to rest by the fire for now. Jin nods approvingly, because they do need Jungkook well rested if he’s going to walk for the rest of the day. 

Jimin chokes on his portion of bread when Jungkook sinks back against a tree further from the fire, not requesting a share of the food and then looking bewildered when they offer it to him. Taehyung is similarly stunned that Jungkook wouldn’t expect them to share their food with him when he clearly doesn’t have any and is the least equipped for this, and he has to wonder again how this boy could possibly be the product of the life he must’ve lived in the castle. Jin is able to coax Jungkook into a seat by the fire and a slice of bread with a thin layer of beans and tinned fish, and his warm eyes are shaken by Jungkook's radiant gratitude as he makes eye contact with Taehyung over the fire. 

The atmosphere is quieter and less raucous than their usual lunches, when it’s just the six of them, but it should feel uncomfortable, should feel tense and charged and strange, and it doesn’t, and that should unsettle Taehyung more than it does. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t be the reason they struggled with breaking this curse, any more than they were already going to struggle with spilling blood for the greater good, and now, in just a few hours, he’s already faltering and -

No, no, he isn’t faltering, he isn’t changing his mind or backing down. The villages have already been rationing, have already been cutting the food portions for the schools, a last resort to get the meals to spread far enough to cover the elderly while some of the farmers tolerate just one meal a day. The villages cannot afford for the curse to last past this full moon, and it has to be as simple as that. It isn’t anywhere near that simple, as Jungkook faces each of them in turn to express his thanks sincerely and repeatedly for the food, Jin and Hoseok doing their best not to cringe away from the gratitude, but it has to be that simple because there isn't anything else they can do. 

“So, Jungkook.” Yoongi leans forward across the fire, and his expression isn’t overly friendly. “It’s true that you didn’t get magic from your father?” Namjoon scowls, and Taehyung winces, because they’d argued in hushed voice earlier that morning about whether they could confirm that or if it would be a sore spot to bring up. They’d agreed that it would be too sensitive a topic, but Yoongi clearly hadn’t taken that to heart, asking anyway. Jungkook’s heavy flinch at the mention though, makes Yoongi still, taken aback. 

“I…” Jungkook’s voice shakes, for the first time that day, and Taehyung feels Jimin tense beside him. “I didn’t. It… it is true.” 

Namjoon’s voice is deep and comforting. “Well, that was more than likely, right?” Jungkook looks at him in surprise, and Namjoon shrugs, expression placating. “Magic is so rare these days, it didn’t come as a surprise when you weren’t.” 

Jungkook laughs, but the sound is hard and bitter, and he bites it back almost immediately, and Taehyung sits up straighter. “It was a surprise to my father. It still is.” They're silent for a moment around the flickering flames. 

“He was disappointed?” Jin asks quietly.

“Still is.” Jungkook murmurs. “More than disappointed. He's infuriated by it.” It’s still bright in the clearing, but it feels almost colder when Jungkook looks up at them, eyes almost shadowed. “The duke’s used to getting anything he wants, and what he wanted was for me to be magic. He’s furious he hasn’t managed to make something happen when he wanted it, when he’s tried so hard.” 

Jimin’s voice is troubled, his fingers creeping along the dirt between them to wind between Taehyung’s for comfort. “What do you mean he tried?” 

Jungkook’s gaze drops to the fire, shoulders hunched down. “Ever since I was young, he… he thought the magic just needed to be unlocked. That he could just make it emerge if he… if he forced it.” 

Taehyung’s fingers squeeze tight around Jimin’s, and he feels sick at the implication. He can’t ask, can’t speak, but Hoseok does, voice solemn and hushed. 

“Force it how?”

Jungkook shrugs, voice flat and terrible. “He thought maybe the magic would protect me if I… if I got hurt enough. Or if I was afraid enough, if I was in enough danger or… or pain.” Jimin gasps audibly beside him, and Jin clenches his jaw tightly when Taehyung turns stricken eyes to him. Jungkook ducks his head further, expression hidden behind dark hair, and his voice is even quieter when he continues. “It’s never worked, but that’s never stopped him from trying, it… it never stops him.” 

Namjoon’s voice is shaken. “He hurts you? He…” Namjoon takes a deep breath, expression serious as he leans across the fire, fingers twitching in his lap as if to reach out. “He hurts you to try to get you to have magic?”

Jungkook shakes his head, and Taehyung almost feels a pulse of relief before it's crushed down by the darkness in Jungkook's eyes when he finally looks up.

“I don’t think that’s why he does it anymore.” His voice is bleak, and Taehyung wants to curl up in Jimin’s arms, wants to tuck his head under Jin’s chin and have him hold him tight against his chest, to block out Jungkook’s steady words. “He used to punish me when it didn’t work, every time, but by now… I think he knows by now that it's never going to work, I think he just… takes it out on me. He’s always been ashamed, he…” Jungkook looks down at his hands, and the flickering flames cast the haunted look on his face older, too weary for the big eyes and young features. “Weakness disgusts him.”

A wave of revulsion shudders through Taehyung at the unbearable thought of the cruel duke hurting the quiet boy in front of him over and over, knowing it wouldn’t change anything, wouldn’t gain him anything. And Jungkook looks so young now, and had been even younger, and Jungkook’s big eyes look wet now in the dancing light of the fire and Taehyung feels a wild, desperate pulse in his chest that he never wants to see Jungkook cry, never wants to see him hurt, but... But they’re going to be the ones to hurt him, they’re going to have to kill him and how, how are they going to kill him, how-

Taehyung startles as Jimin’s hand tugs at his sharply, and when he turns his head dazedly to see him through the anguish rattling through his chest, Jimin’s pretty features are blurring and wavering, and it’s only then that Taehyung notices the tears sliding down his own cheeks. He hastily wipes at his face with his sleeve, rubbing at his eyes and inhaling sharply to regain control. He sneaks a glance to check if Jungkook has noticed him, but Jin has drawn the boy to his side of the fire and is speaking quietly and comfortingly to him, and Taehyung’s eyes burn, knowing this will hurt Jin even more now, because this all feels wronger now, feels so much worse. They’d never, ever imagined this, and distress flares within him as he tries to fathom Jeon Jungkook dying at their hands after this, after learning this and knowing they’d been wrong about so much, about all of this. Jimin winds a hand through Taehyung’s curls and tugs him forward to press their lips together quickly, then leans their foreheads together for a moment, exhaling shakily. Taehyung tries to mimic it, even less steadily, but it's difficult, everything is so much more difficult now. 

“I’m sorry.” Yoongi’s voice is low and uncomfortable, and Taehyung turns to see where he’s kneeled beside where Jin and Jungkook are packing away the last of the bread, Jungkook looking calmer, though his eyes are wide with surprise as Yoongi continues. “I shouldn’t have said anything, I… I shouldn’t have asked about that.” 

“No, that’s alright,” Jungkook hastily reassures, waving off the apology with a bow of his head. “I didn’t have to answer, I just…” He peers up at them, big eyes soft through dark hair, then looks down at his own hands twisting together. “No one’s ever known apart from the soldiers who are on his side, and you… you asked, and you’re helping me, and you’ve been kind. I don’t… I don’t mind if you know.” 

Taehyung’s eyes burn, and he spins away roughly before he can cry in front of Jungkook, before he can cry in front of this gentle boy who’s trusting Taehyung and his boyfriends to lead him to safety through the woods, trusting them with the secret of how he’s been hurt over and over, trusting them until they push him into a clearing and pull out a dagger and plunge it into his chest, before they kill him for his father who hurt him over and over and over.

When Hoseok warbles something assuring to Jungkook, when Namjoon rasps that they need to keep moving, when Yoongi chokingly whispers another apology before they begin to trudge into the woods towards the clearing, Taehyung hastily swipes away the tears that continuously threaten to spill as Jungkook’s quiet words echo in his head. And he promised himself he wouldn’t be the reason any of them struggled more with this than they were going to, he swore it to himself, vowed it over and over. But as Jungkook shoots him an uncertain but warm and genuine smile as he determinedly presses on unknowingly towards his death, Taehyung braces himself against the surge of emotions roiling within him and wonders whether he might have to break that promise.

Chapter Text

Jimin is still reeling from the shock of everything Jungkook had turned out to be, everything he’d revealed to them, and from the glazed look in Taehyung’s eyes and the distracted stumble of Hoseok’s normally graceful steps, he knows he isn’t the only one struggling with it. Jin and Yoongi have been walking further ahead, and he can’t see their faces, but this was just too far from anything they could have anticipated. Namjoon is under the main pressure of the pretense now, trying to distract Jungkook from the rest of their inner conflicts by talking to him about the plants they’re passing, their uses and histories and defining characteristics. Hoseok rolls his eyes at Jimin playfully, because yes, the five of them do their best to pay avid attention to Namjoon’s fervent lectures on vegetation cycles, but that's usually with less than innocent motivations: because they love him and it makes him happy, and even less innocently, because they're all well aware that lecturing them about plant mating systems tends to get Namjoon in the mood. 

Now though, Namjoon is passionately explaining the various uses of clover in modern remedies, and when Jimin grins to himself and considers pressing forward to save Jungkook, he steps around a tree and stumbles in surprise. Jungkook’s eyes aren’t glazed over the way Taehyung’s get this far into the technical side of botany, and aren’t darting away or looking for an escape from the conversation like Hoseok’s sometimes do when he’s beyond his depth. Jungkook’s eyes are shining, his entire posture eager and engaged, and Namjoon is animatedly going over the history of rosemary’s use in medicine when Jungkook’s excited voice bursts out.

“Did they know back then that rosemary would be propagated the same way as sage?” 

Jimin stares, heart fluttering in his chest at the way Namjoon glows and preens at Jungkook’s sincere curiosity, at the way Jin’s expression has softened impossibly where he’s half turned back to face them. Jimin swallows hard and darts ahead to fall into step beside Yoongi and Jin. All of this is a lot, too much, and he thinks if Jungkook’s bright smile had been directed at him that he might have sunk to the ground and buried his face in his hands, maybe, or possibly tugged him into a hug, both equally dangerous options for the mission at hand. And the mission isn’t even one he can think of either without his throat tightening, so he lets Yoongi pull him into their discussion about the renovations to the makeshift community center, and bites his lip every time Jungkook’s bright giggle floats towards them, unconsciously walking faster each time, racing something he knows he can’t outrun. 

When the dark starts falling over the shadowy trees, they’ve made it almost as far as they’d planned for the day, and Jin looks satisfied with their progress as he starts preparing their dinner with Hoseok. They’d given themselves plenty of extra time, and after tomorrow’s full day of walking, they’d have just the afternoon’s walk the next day until they reached the clearing, and then they’d have until midnight to get into the clearing and ready themselves for… for breaking the curse. Jungkook is laughing beside Namjoon again, big eyes sparkling with admiration, soft dark hair falling into his eyes and making him look younger, and Jimin spins away hurriedly, calling out stutteringly that he’s going to collect firewood. Yoongi pushes off a tree to follow him, and they’re quiet for a few moments as they make their way through sparse branches, picking up easy kindling, before Yoongi turns to him with a smirk.

“So.” Yoongi’s voice is low and teasing. “Looks like you’ve got another admirer even faster than we’d have guessed.” 

Jimin tosses a twig at him with a huff, unwilling to let himself blush, because of course Yoongi had also noticed the way Jungkook’s eyes have darted to and from Jimin since lunch, the pink of Jungkook’s curving cheeks, the way he plays with the too-long sleeves over his hands when Jimin smiles at him.

“Did you see him with Namjoon, though?” Jimin murmurs with a laugh, and Yoongi chuckles. 

“Did you see Namjoon with him? When the kid asked him about cactus growth stages I thought Joon might kiss him.” 

Jimin is still laughing when they duck past another tree, but it's like a plunge of cold water when they suddenly find themselves face to face with the looming figures of half a dozen of the duke’s soldiers. His heart slams in his chest, panic rearing as Yoongi’s eyes widen as he notices, and their hasty step back is met with a chorus of cold laughs, a smirk of amusement from the one closest to Yoongi as his boyfriend eases himself in front of Jimin.

“We don’t want any trouble.” Yoongi says slowly, arms rising to his sides to indicate no harm, and Jimin mimics him, grits his teeth as the soldier in front rests a hand heavily on his sword, head tilted and grin cruel. 

“I don’t think we asked what you want.” A soldier to Jimin’s left spits, and the man in front is opening his mouth to retaliate when Yoongi shoves forward, sweeping a leg to knock the soldier in front into the one beside him before slamming the firewood in his hands against the helmet of the third with a deafening ringing sound, watching him topple. Jimin lurches into motion, heart racing and frantic. They’re both good fighters, possibly the best in their group, but they’re badly outnumbered, and both exhausted from their walk and their meager rations, and the soldiers are burly and angry and strong. 

Jimin slams a kick into the knee of the soldier closest to him, doesn’t wait for him to collapse in pain before he’s pushing off a tree for momentum and leaping past the soldier diving for him, using his firewood to knock the sword from his hand and then slamming it up into the underside of the man’s jaw, sending him crashing to the ground. A rough arm locks around his chest from behind, and he’s yanked back enough to see Yoongi roughly elbowing one soldier in the face, Jimin's heart dropping as another rises behind Yoongi, hand falling to the hilt of his sword. 

Even as Jimin twists frantically in his restraining grip and screams a warning, it isn’t fast enough, and Yoongi is hardly turning wide-eyed with shock to see the sword arching towards him when with a colossal thud, Jungkook is hurtling from the tree line to crash into the soldier looming above Yoongi. The solider is faster to deal with the shock, and Jungkook barely clears the sword whistling past his chest when he throws himself to the ground, eyes round with terror.

Jimin throws an elbow back wildly, and it’s caught and twisted for just a moment before the arm around him suddenly recoils and lets go with a cry. Jimin doesn’t waste a moment glancing back, is already hurling himself forward just in time to see the soldier twisting an enormous fist into Jungkook’s shirt and hurling him bodily into a tree with a terrible resounding impact, and an echoing cry of pain. Jungkook slides to the ground and doesn’t move, and Jimin’s panic screams, his heart ricochets in his chest. He yanks a fallen sword out of the dirt and turns it to slam the hilt into the side of the soldier’s head, turning away before the man falls to rush to Jungkook’s side, where Yoongi is already kneeling. 

“Is he alright? Yoongs, is he okay?” Jimin cries, hands trembling and heart thundering as he falls to his knees beside them, limbs feeling hollow and numb now that the danger is past and the six soldiers lay scattered and unconscious at their feet. Jin is crashing down beside him a moment later, frantic hands hovering for a moment before he’s turning Jungkook’s limp head towards them. Jimin feels a colossal relief at the sight of Jungkook’s furrowed brow, but it tempers with the heavy yank of sorrow as Jungkook’s eyes widen with a gasp of pain, and he pales and drops back to the ground. 

“Jin, we have to tie them to the trees, they can’t wake up and follow us back to camp tonight.” Yoongi’s voice is hard with concealed panic and worry, and Jimin searches frantically through the darkness at where Jungkook’s eyes are squeezed shut and teeth gritted against the pain, trying to find where he’s injured, how he’s hurt. 

“F-fine.” Jungkook rasps, squinting up at him, chest heaving and dark hair fanned out across the ground beneath him. “I’m f-fine. Is Yoongi o-okay?”

Jimin nods, throat too tight to speak, eyes burning. The concern in Jungkook’s eyes for Yoongi and for Jimin himself is too much for Jimin to handle with the turmoil of emotions surging through him. Jin and Yoongi are back at their sides before Jimin’s managed to collect himself, and Jungkook is breathless with pain by the time they’ve levered him to his feet. 

“Just my arm,” Jungkook manages, pale and swaying where Jin and Yoongi hold most of his weight, “and my side.” Jimin can hardly look at him as they half-carry him back through the woods, Jimin’s arms loose and trembling around the firewood he haphazardly gathers along the way, desperately trying to block out the quietly pained breaths Jungkook bites back whenever he’s jostled, Yoongi and Jin’s fervent muttered apologies.

Taehyung and Namjoon leap to their feet, eyes wide with shock and worry as Hoseok tugs the firewood from Jimin’s arm and runs concerned hands through his hair, down his arms and torso, checking for injuries until Jimin tips his weight fully into the taller man’s arms and exhales shudderingly. 

“Jin?” Namjoon asks sharply, at his side in a moment. “What happened, are you-”

“Duke’s soldiers.” Yoongi spits, at odds with how gently he lowers Jungkook to sit, hunched protectively around himself beside the faintly flickering fire Taehyung is hurriedly feeding kindling to. “Jimin and I ran into them outnumbered, and one of them almost…” Yoongi shakes his head, and Jimin’s eyes burn as he tugs himself from Hoseok’s reassuring embrace to drop down beside them. 

“One of the soldiers almost got Yoongi.” Jimin whispers shakily. “But Jungkook… Jungkook got between them and he got h-hurt.” Taehyung’s eyes are round and glistening over the growing flames, and Jungkook’s eyes have slipped closed again, pale and features drawn with pain. 

“Hurt how?” Namjoon asks urgently, already unpacking the medical supplies, but Jimin reaches up to grab his arm, expression pleading.

“Joon, I…” Jimin’s voice cracks and he blinks tears back determinedly. He doesn’t know how to explain the crushing force of emotions in his chest insisting that he be the one to do this, that he be the one to patch up Jungkook because if he doesn’t, he’s going to break, and not in a way they’ll be able to patch up. His voice is thready and weak, and he only manages to mumble, “I need to do it. I.. I need to.” Namjoon crouches down beside him, eyes roving over him assessingly before he leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead. Then he's rising to tug Hoseok over to the bag with the food, calling Taehyung over to help them even as his eyes dart worriedly between them. 

“Jungkook.” Jin murmurs quietly, a hand running soothingly over the boy’s shoulder. “Is it alright if we get your shirt off? We have medicine, we can help patch you up.” 

Jungkook leans into the touch, eyes fluttering, and his nod is firm despite his listlessness. Yoongi braces the pale boy against him as Jin and Jimin ease the shirt open and off. Jimin, seated behind Jungkook, doesn’t understand the reason for their harsh gasps until the shirt is slipped off entirely, and he feels a stab of horror at the range of scarring marring the skin that’s been revealed. It seems endless, the old faded silvers and newer angrier unhealed scarlets, the thin pointed rings and the jagged edged stripes, across his shoulder blades and down his back and sides, the shadows of the deeper scarring looking even more vicious in the dancing light of the fire, in the darkness of the woods. Jin has clapped a hand over his mouth, and he yanks it down at Jungkook’s grimace. Jimin’s eyes fill with tears again, chest strangling with the misery and revulsion rising. Because Jimin had imagined such terrible things at the darkness in Jungkook’s voice, at the “if I was in enough danger or pain,” but this is too merciless, too cruel, and Jungkook had been just a boy, is still just a boy. Yoongi is rigid with fury beside him, mouth tight and fierce with it. Jimin feels a tear streak hotly down his cheek as he turns to find Namjoon frozen beside the dinner shares, eyes dark with rage, Hoseok still beside him with his arms wrapped tightly around himself, eyes hollow. 

Jimin’s nails squeeze into his palms, and he feels like he’s caving inwards with the sadness of it, too heavy to bear. Taehyung hadn't had parents, had grown up orphaned, raised by the village elders until they’d passed and passed him on, but he’d been adored and treated well and loved. And Yoongi’s family had passed in the plague when he was young, but they’d loved him fiercely. And Namjoon’s family had to leave the village to seek better paying jobs beyond the kingdom, and Jin’s family wasn’t completely accepting of his relationship with the boys, but they were loved and cared for and supported, and Jimin’s parents were the reason his heart was even kind and generous and caring. And he just can’t fathom a family, a parent, who could hurt their child, who could hurt their child this much. Jimin's eyes burn, his chest aches with it. Jungkook has been hurt so much, he’d been hurt so much and now in just over a day, they’re going to kill him. 

“It’s okay.” Jungkook whispers reassuringly, and Jimin almost tumbles into the fire with shock at the interruption of the turmoil charring his lungs and suffocating his heart. His heart hammers as he meets Jungkook’s soft, innocent gaze, fingers feeling numb as Jungkook forces an empty smile. “It’s okay, they’re just scars now.” 

The scrape on Jungkook’s arm from his harsh impact with the bark of the tree isn’t deep, and the bruising that Jimin knows will darken in blotches across his side won’t be overly impairing, but Jimin hates it, hates the pained hitches of Jungkook’s breath when he shifts, the pale pallor of his skin and the extra tension around his eyes as he presses through and smiles gratefully up at Jimin when he begins to smooth the medical paste across his cool skin. Namjoon has tugged Jin and Yoongi past the treeline for a hushed, urgent discussion, and Taehyung and Hoseok are arranging the blankets into makeshift cots to allow for a quick dinner before they settle in for the night. 

Jungkook is too quiet, too patient, and much too appreciative of Jimin as he helps him into his shirt and eases him down to lay on one of their thicker blankets. He blinks up at him, big eyes sparkling in a way that makes Jimin want to cry again. He does his best to keep the bandage lose over the medicine on Jungkook’s arm, and to spread the cooling concoction with barely the tip of his fingers whispering over the soft skin of Jungkook’s ribs, flinching at the sight of an old burn, at the feel of a long-healed blunted scar.

“You’re very gentle, Jimin,” Jungkook mumbles sleepily, eyes having slid shut and exhaustion weighing heavily on his voice. “Very kind. It’s nice, so nice. I’ve never…” 

Jimin reaches his other hand to grasp at Jungkook’s uninjured one as Jungkook trails away, and Jungkook blinks his eyes open again from where they’d slid shut. Jimin’s voice is too choked to be very clear over the crackling flames beside them that throw shadows across Jungkook’s pale, tired features. 

“I’m very sorry that you got hurt, Jungkook.” Jimin whispers shakily. “Thank you for saving Yoongi. It was… it was so brave of you, and you got h-hurt for him.” 

“I’m glad he’s okay.” Jungkook whispers, heartfelt and warm, tightening his grip on Jimin’s hand, and the emotions that swell in Jimin’s chest crescendo and overflow. Jungkook smiles up at him, beautiful and bright, eyes shining and wavy hair falling across his face and looking so soft and sleepy. Jimin tugs his hand free, swallowing around the lump in his throat, and his eyes prickle as Jungkook’s eyes slide closed and he breathes a mournful sound at the loss of touch. Jimin’s heart is melting and collapsing in his chest, and he raises his fingers tentatively to run through the soft, dark hair he leans over, and is rewarded with a sleepy smile so sweet he wants to cry, wants to lean over and press his lips to it, to kiss Jungkook deeply and see his shining eyes flutter open and hear his happy sigh, the adoration in his eyes when he looks so warmly at every one of them. 

Jimin bites his lip, tilts his head back against the tears that threaten to spill over again. He won’t kiss him, of course he won’t, of course, but he continues smoothing through Jungkook’s fluffy hair long past when the boy’s breathing eases into sleep. When Yoongi drops down heavily beside Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t wake, and doesn’t stir at all at the sound of Yoongi’s harsh whisper. 

“He might've saved my life.”

Jimin lets his head drop to Yoongi’s shoulder, both leaning over Jungkook, sadness resounding and echoing through Jimin’s chest at the sight of Jungkook’s soft features, impossibly younger and lax in his sleep, lips almost pouted in a way that makes Jimin need to bury his face in Yoongi’s neck and breathe heavily against the warm skin. He doesn’t startle at Namjoon’s heavy sigh behind him, or Jin’s supportive hand gently patting his back as the others huddle around him, six distressed faces peering down at the injured, exhausted boy sleeping in their midst. 

“We can’t let the villages starve.” Hoseok says quietly, voice trying for hardness but just sounding strained and miserable. “We have to do this, this… this can’t change anything.” 

Yoongi hunches his shoulders, hoarse voice defensive. “It does, though. It does, it-”

“It can’t.” Jin whispers, guilt weighing every word, and Jimin reaches up with his free hand to link their fingers, to squeeze tightly, and Jin’s words falter. “It can’t change anything, we… we know it can’t.” 

Taehyung looks near tears when Jimin finally looks up at him, and Namjoon’s face is twisted, eyes bright with emotion as he gazes down at Jungkook’s sleeping form, too innocent and young for any of the harshness of these wounds and the darkness of these woods and the horrible reality of their situation. 

“How can he be the son of that disgusting tyrant?” Namjoon murmurs hopelessly.

Jimin pushes himself roughly up and away from Jungkook, the pressure in his chest near bursting with the despair fracturing through him, and Hoseok is hardly at his side before he’s stumbling over to hastily swallow his portion of dinner and tuck himself between Hoseok and Taehyung’s warm, sympathetic arms to try to find sleep through the waves of his guilt and turmoil. He buries his face in the blanket when he hears Jin coaxing Jungkook awake quietly to help him eat his dinner before he drops back to sleep, and Taehyung’s soothing, quiet breaths against his shoulder make something tremble inside him. He fades into sleep too quickly, and when he wakes in the early morning darkness around dawn, the misery has cemented thick and heavy in his lungs, every breath yanking at the sadness swirling up to drown him. 

When he carefully checks Jungkook’s wounds after breakfast, with the bright sunlight illuminating the clearing far better than the meager fire had last night, Jimin’s fingers still at the distinct rings of faint scarring around Jungkook’s wrists, and Jungkook’s shrug and quiet, offhand voice burn sharp and bitter in Jimin’s heart. 

“I spent some time chained up in the dungeons.” 

And Jimin wants to throw a tantrum, wants to hurl himself to the ground and petulantly refuse to move, wants to creep into the castle a decade ago and snatch a dark-haired child from the clutches of his father, wants to cry and cry and cry. When Jin calls Jungkook to eat, he rises to his feet carefully and shoots Jimin a bright, grateful smile. He startles when Jimin throws his arms around him, mindful of the wounds but unable to stop himself from pulling Jungkook’s warm body against his and trying to physically press his bursting care and compassion through the embrace. And Jungkook melts into it, arms warm and gentle around him as Jimin buries his face in Jungkook’s shoulder and takes an unsteady breath and doesn’t cry, doesn’t cry. They sway slightly as they stand there, arms locked around each other, Jungkook’s breathing soft and expression delighted and awestruck when Jimin tilts his head back to look at him. 

When Jimin finally brings himself to release him, Jungkook trails a hand down his arm to squeeze his hand for a moment, big eyes shining and cheeks flushed with happiness, and when he turns away, Jimin can hardly take the stumbling steps into the cover of the trees away from the rest, Yoongi darting to follow him. Jimin spins on his heel after just a few long strides and throws himself into Yoongi’s arms so hard they stagger back, and with a muffled wail, he finally lets his tears fall. Yoongi’s hands are trembling when he runs long fingers through Jimin’s hair soothingly, and his voice is low and furious as he spits threats against the duke, against the filthy tyrant that has always made their lives so difficult and had also, they now knew, treated someone as gentle and sweet as Jeon Jungkook so brutally his entire childhood, his whole life. Jimin lets his boyfriend’s deep voice rumble through him as they rage and cry, and the others have finished breakfast and packed up and swept the clearing by the time the two of them emerge, doubtless red-eyed and puffy-faced, from the trees. Apart from looks of subtle concern from Namjoon and Jin, sympathetic glances from Taehyung and Hoseok, and wide-eyed surprise from Jungkook, they’re gracefully allowed to join the others unquestioned to begin the day’s walk. 

Jimin chooses to stick by Hoseok’s side for the walk, emotions still turbulent in his chest and needing Hoseok’s unerring ability to draw smiles from him, soft and tender and solid at his side. Even with the welcome distraction Hoseok provides him with his chatter and laughter, Jimin can’t help but notice that Jungkook once again doesn’t voice a single complaint, even though the walk must be even more exhausting today after yesterday’s exertion, and especially with his still healing injury from last night. Jimin tears his eyes away from Jungkook’s steady steps, his throat closing at the reminder of the future they're nearing with every step, what they're walking towards, why they have a time limit and need to keep walking for at least several more hours before they can stop for lunch. It isn’t just him, he can feel the others more subdued than usual, and the few times Jungkook jostles his wounds enough to let a grimace of pain slip, all six of them flinch with him. But Jungkook isn’t subdued, is still cheerful, lighting up at every one of their smiles, expression brightening impossibly every time one of them says his name, and it burns somewhere inside Jimin.

When Jin makes a terrible joke using wordplay involving the trees they’re passing, Jungkook laughs so happily that Jin blushes, and Hoseok’s eyes widen with delight at the rare sight. Jin leans over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair affectionately, and the way Jungkook leans into it, smiling radiantly, makes Jimin’s chest ache, and he can see from Namjoon’s clenched jaw that he feels it too. Jungkook is sweet and gentle and kind, and they’re all getting far too attached, because today will end, and tomorrow will end with a full moon they’ll need to murder him under, and Jimin can’t look at Namjoon once the reminder flits through his head that his boyfriend will be the one wielding that blade. 

Jungkook presses on so persistently it makes Jimin’s side ache in sympathy, and the third time Jungkook stumbles, pale and eyes going glassy with pain despite his lack of any complaint, Yoongi shoots Jin and Namjoon a meaningful look, and they call a lunch break. Jungkook, of course, flits around offering help to each of them in turn until Taehyung reaches over to grasp his hand and tug him down beside him to sit by the fire, then leans back to sprawl across the ground and yanks Jungkook down to lay beside him. Jungkook blushes where they lay side by side, but soon enough he’s relaxing, their hands linked where they’re stretched out side by side in the dirt, eyes fluttering closed with a soft smile. 

The scene feels too right, too meant to be, and Taehyung looks serene and pleased, and Jimin has to throw himself into lunch preparations to distract himself from the complicated way this fits into the tumult of his thoughts today. He tries to disconnect from it all, to clear his head and his heart, to focus on nothing but what his hands are doing at that moment, where his legs are carrying him in that step. He’s dazedly scooping rice into his mouth for listless bites when Taehyung unknowingly pulls him back into the conversation, and Jimin’s eyes widen as he sits up, not having followed the conversation enough to know what he's being asked as his boyfriends look at him expectantly and Jungkook smiles at him over his own plate. 

Taehyung shoots him a grimace of apology, rescuing him with a laugh and diverting their attention back to himself. “Anyway, Jimin does remember and always will, because it was the best party the orphanage ever threw, and definitely the best one Jimin’s ever been to.” 

Hoseok is chuckling, and Jungkook chews and swallows before shyly offering, “It sounds like the best party anyone could go to. I’ve never been to one myself but I think you-”

Yoongi chokes on the bite in his mouth, and Jin lunges forward to pound on his back until he clears his throat, eyes watering, to hoarsely demand, “You’ve never been to a party?” 

Jungkook sits up straighter, surprised at their attention and looking around at them curiously. “No? I haven’t.” His eyes widen in realization, and his expression sinks. “Oh, yes, the duke has a lot of them, I know, but I’ve never been allowed to attend any. He’s, um… he doesn’t generally want anyone to see me, or… be around me.” 

Hoseok is already sliding closer to Jungkook, murmuring something awkward meant to be soothing, trying to change the subject with a meaningful look at Jin, who rises to start clearing up after lunch, pulling Taehyung along to assist him. Jimin is still reeling, because the more they learn, the less Jungkook has even benefited from the luxurious life the duke had purchased and stolen at the expense of village livelihoods and their families and their ability to eat and support themselves. This discovery hits harder for some reason, and Jimin finds himself wondering whether Jungkook even had enough to eat growing up as they’d assumed, if he was waited on and served as they’d assumed, even with the treatment of his father how it had been, because if he hadn’t… 

Jimin slumps forward and tangles a hand into his hair to tug lightly, eyes closing with a heavy exhale. This can’t matter, it can’t matter because they have to do this, they have to, but Jimin doesn’t know how any of them can even look at Jungkook anymore, how they can manage to return his bright smiles and see the pure joy dancing in his eyes when they do. He passes the remainder of his rice wordlessly to Namjoon, who worriedly swallows it down, tugging Jimin into him for a soft kiss, smoothing a hand through his hair and helping him up, to continue on.

A few hours into their walk, Jungkook crouches down, head tilted curiously and lips pouted in concentration, then looks over his shoulder at Namjoon and hesitantly identifies a plant Namjoon had described during the walk yesterday. Namjoon bound over to tug him into a hug, and Jungkook beams so brightly and preens so excitedly that Jimin can’t breathe, and has to look away. Because Jungkook responds too well to the tiniest praises and the smallest kindness, blossoms so beautifully under the barest physical affection, and Jimin can’t help but notice the way he goes so sweetly soft and pliant at the faintest touch, eyes shining as he peers up at them. Jimin winds his arm through Taehyung’s and buries his face in his shoulder, and Taehyung whispers empty, hollow reassurances into his hair as they walk on, steps stilted and reluctant.

Jungkook is cheerful despite his clear exhaustion by dinner as well, and Jimin watches him chatter with Hoseok, watches the way his face lights up so soft and joyful as Yoongi pulls him in to lean against him by the fire. And it’s been building through the afternoon into the evening but suddenly, Jimin can’t look at him, at any of them, can’t stomach any of this, and his wild, desperate gaze finds Jin, whose sharp eyes notice immediately. In a few short steps, Jin is tugging Jimin quickly into the woods, his breath too fast and harsh, heart hammering and fingers numb.

“Jin, I - I can’t do this, I c-can’t, I-”

“It’s okay,” Jin soothes quietly, lowering them to the base of a tree and tugging Jimin into his arms. “Just breathe. Focus on the food distribution schedule, think about the crop turnover plan, the school deliveries we’ll be able to do once the west fields are green again, just…” Jin takes a deep breath, and Jimin tucks his head into his chest, shaking. “Just don’t think about anything else.” 

A breeze rustles through the branches above them as Jimin takes steadying breaths, presses his forehead against the steadying beat of Jin’s heart, closes his eyes. It’s several minutes later before he can speak in a hushed whisper. 

“We didn’t make it far enough to settle down for dinner.” 

Jin nods against his hair. “We couldn’t have accounted for going slower with Jungkook’s injury, but it’ll be okay.” Jin takes a deep breath, chest rising and falling beneath Jimin’s cheek. “We would’ve made it to the clearing by afternoon, but now we’ll make it by early evening, with hours before… before midnight.” They’re silent for a moment, deep breaths in and out as a breeze scatters the leaves at their feet. 

“He’s trying his best to keep up with our pace.” Jimin murmurs, trying and failing for a detached tone. “You were right, that this was faster. If we’d been… if we’d abducted him and tried getting him there by force, it would’ve taken much longer.” 

Jin drags a hand down his face. “I…” Jimin tilts his head up to see the conflicted expression, and reaches out to trace a hand down his cheek, leaning up to press a kiss to his parted lips. 

“What is it?” 

Jin sighs heavily. “I… I feel horrible thinking this, but I… I do wonder if it would’ve been better if we had just abducted him, if…" He hunches his shoulders, defensive. "At least then we wouldn’t know him, we wouldn’t know him and he wouldn’t know us and he wouldn't have to like us, and we wouldn’t like him-”

“I like him so much.” Jimin whispers, thick and strangled, blinking back tears. 

Jin’s voice is strained. “Me too, I… I think we all do, too much, I-” 

“I wanted to kiss him last night.” Jimin confesses, choked, and Jin stares down at him wide-eyed as the burning tears stream down Jimin's face. Jin pulls him back against his chest, arms running down his back warmly. 

“Oh, Jimin.” He murmurs sadly, and Jimin can’t suppress the sob bursting from his chest. 

“Jin, his father h-hurt him so much, and… and…” 

Jin presses a soothing kiss into his hair, and his voice is miserable and tight. 

“I know, love, I know.” 

“We c-can’t do this.” Jimin gasps through tears, raising a hand to uselessly wipe at his face, to fist in Jin’s shirt. 

“We have to.” Jin whispers brokenly. “We're going to have to.” 

Jimin muffles a sob against Jin’s chest, clutching the thin material hard between his fingers and trying desperately to collect himself as Jin’s tears drip into his hair. It’s too soon when Jin gently loosens Jimin’s grip, when he straightens them and smiles sadly at Jimin with a finality that makes him want to sink into the soil, when he cups Jimin’s cheeks, thumbing his tears away gently. He pulls him in for a soft kiss, pressing a sad smile against his lips and tilting their foreheads together and sighing, just once more. Then Jin laces their fingers together, bracing, and leads them back into the clearing to get ready for the night. 

Jimin immediately offers to take the first watch, knowing sleep will be impossible for him right now, maybe even all night. Jungkook eagerly offers to take a watch as well, apologizing for having slept through his turn last night when he was injured, but they vehemently turn him down immediately, and explain it away as a universal rule, that anyone injured can’t stay up and keep watch. He seems satisfied with the answer, and if he notices the dark looks they give each other, the unease sweeping across them, he doesn’t comment on it. Taehyung tugs Jimin into a deep kiss and makes him promise to wake him in two hours for his own watch, and Jimin settles in against the rough bark of the nearest tree, wrapping himself into the thin blanket and shivering at the anticipation of the flood of insidious thoughts that’ll inevitably trickle in as he sits up, alone in the dark. 

It’s only been an hour or so when he looks up from his own tightly clenched hands at the sound of a rustle, and he jolts upright, mouth dry and muscles tensing. But it’s only Hoseok, twisting in his blankets, face crumpling with discomfort, clearly in the throes of a nightmare. Jimin feels a ripple of sadness at his boyfriend’s distressed expression, the nightmares that have plagued him for years, ever since he spent a short time imprisoned in the duke’s holding cells when a soldier had dragged him away from the market for looking at him disrespectfully or some other disgusting excuse for their mistreatment of those they were meant to serve. Hoseok has never talked to Jimin about the two nights he’d spent there, but he’d returned bruised and shivering and starving, flinching at loud noises and sudden movements, and every few weeks since, Hoseok bolts up in bed, sweating and shaking, tears bright in his eyes. 

Jimin leans forward uneasily, glancing helplessly at Yoongi, who typically is the one to help Hoseok through these, but his boyfriends are all deeply asleep after an exhausting few days. He lowers his blanket to free his legs, but freezes when he notices Jungkook raising himself silently onto an elbow, facing Hoseok, expression hidden behind swinging dark hair. Jungkook turns to shoot Jimin a reassuring look, eyes bright with concern, and then he’s slipping out of his blankets, crawling over to settle crossed legged at Hoseok’s side, leaning over him. Jimin holds his breath as Jungkook lifts a hand slowly and carefully to Hoseok’s wavy hair, gently begins to smooth his fingers through, and with a quiet breath, he begins to hum. Jimin feels something inside him ease and soften at the sound, and he relaxes back against the tree, shoulders untensing where he hadn't noticed they'd been tight. Hoseok’s hitching breaths quiet, his twisting motions slowly settle and still, and the tense lines of his face smooth back into sleep as Jungkook traces a hand through his hair over and over, voice soft and soothing as he hums, head tilted down towards Hoseok and eyes shining so warmly Jimin swallows hard, tightens his fists in his lap. 

After gently shaking Taehyung awake an hour later for his watch, Jimin finds himself slowing to kneel beside Jungkook, breathing deep and even under his own blanket, lovely features so soft and so young in his sleep. Jimin has to bite his lip hard to stop himself from leaning forwards, much too naturally and instinctively, to press a gentle kiss to Jungkook’s forehead. He turns to press his face into Yoongi’s hair instead, exhaling shakily and trying to collect himself before he crawls to his own blanket, rolling into it and tensing at the cold soil beneath him. He expects to lay awake sleeplessly for hours, well into the early morning, but he’s hardly laid back and turned to face the flickering fire when he finds himself sinking into sleep, the exhaustion of the day heavy in his limbs and head.

He wakes shivering lightly early in the night when Namjoon is on watch, but drifts asleep relatively quickly, and when he blinks blearily awake at early dawn, he’s comfortably warm, an extra blanket tucked securely around him as he snuggles happily into it. He allows himself a few more moments of dozing before he stretches and sits up, smiling at Hoseok who’s taken the last watch and is leaned against a tree across the clearing, quietly sorting through their remaining supplies. But Hoseok has his own blanket spread across his lap, and Jimin frowns down at the extra, sitting up to look at their scattered forms across the clearing then freezing. 

Jungkook is curled into himself, shivering slightly with no blanket of his own, arms fisted in his sleeves and the tip of his nose slightly red with the early morning chill. Jimin frowns, turning to catch Jin’s eye as he blinks awake across from Jungkook, and Jin turns to gaze down, eyes softening tenderly. In just a moment, he’s nodding reassuringly at Jimin and turning to poke at Namjoon’s sleeping shoulder. It’s still early, maybe an hour left to sleep before they should depart, and Namjoon blinks awake confused and sleepy, but obliges easily when Jin pulls him towards Jungkook’s right side and slides himself closer to his left, sandwiching the boy warmly between their shared body heat. Jin shoots Jimin a faint smile and lays his head back down, Namjoon already long since asleep, if he ever fully woke in the first place.

Jimin can’t move, rooted where he sits, something terribly sad and powerful swirling through his chest at the sight of Jungkook’s sleeping form, soft and innocent and young, curled up between Jimin’s boyfriends looking so warm and so right. Jimin closes his eyes and lays back himself, turns his face up into the weak sunlight, and lets his overflowing tears pour into his hair, heart flickering and sputtering with an ache heavy in his chest, because tonight… tonight will be Jungkook’s last.

Chapter Text

When Jungkook sleepily blinks awake to find himself tucked warmly between Jin’s broad shoulders and Namjoon’s firm chest, the heat in his fluttering heart twines with the flustered blush of his cheeks, of his uncontrollably bright smile. He thinks distantly that yesterday might have been the happiest day he’s ever lived, only rivaled by the day before, despite his carriage breaking down and his subsequent injury to his father’s soldiers who had hurt him far worse than this before, and for far longer. But he'd been carried back and fussed over and they'd been concerned and caring and tender, and it had bloomed in his chest impossibly bright and unshakably joyful. 

Jungkook has never thought too deeply about love, growing up the way he has, but he doesn’t think he’s ever seen love like this, doesn’t think there could be a stronger love than the unyielding one between these six. They had been so open and unashamed when they introduced themselves as boyfriends right upon meeting him, and they were so clearly and deeply in love that it made everything around them shine and glow. They were so genuinely kind to each other, cared so sincerely for each other, and made each other so happy. Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from blushing at the easy way they traded kisses in passing, dropping kisses casually in each others hair as they passed, and smacking kisses on each others cheeks in laughter, and pressing kisses against each others lips as they walked along, as they got ready for bed, as they ate, smiling against each others lips as they sat by the fire or leaned up against tree trunks. 

And they've hardly known him a day and yet they smile at him so brightly, ruffle his hair so happily, tug him into such warm embraces, drape arms over his shoulders so gently, and he’s never had anyone be kind and warm to him like this. He selfishly almost hopes they never reach the cold, lonely estate they’re escorting him to, wants to bask in their beaming compassion forever, but he shakes his head at the thought, closing his eyes and trying not to lean into Jin’s enticing warmth any more than he already is. He’s being ridiculous, and ungrateful, but he’s going to appreciate every single golden moment with them until they part, and the next time the duke’s vicious rage is slamming against or through or onto him, these glowing memories are going to be what he huddles into for safety in his mind. 

They’re strangely subdued at breakfast, shooting each other dark and significant looks, and when Namjoon sighs and passes Jungkook the water pouches to refill from the nearby stream, Jungkook pretends not to realize they clearly want to speak in private and are considerately trying not to be blunt about it. He’s happy to give them some time to themselves, and he gathers the pouches hastily to duck into the trees and follow the short path to the stream. He’s only a few minutes away from their clearing when he realizes he’s one short, and stops, frowning. He considers filling the rest and going back for the other after, but his side is still aching quietly and his arm is sore, and he’s not certain he’s going to be able to match their unrelenting walking pace today if he starts his morning with this trip repeated twice.

He’s almost to the distinctive crooked trees they’d slept beneath when he pauses midstep, blushing deeply as he realizes they might have wanted their privacy for something other than talking, that he might be interrupting something much more intimate than a conversation. But his head shoots up and he takes an unconscious step closer when he hears his own name in an angry snarl. His heart is beating faster as he tilts his head, taking another cautious step forward and another, sinking slowly into a crouch, hidden in the dappled shadows of the trees and the dim morning light. And he’d been almost certain he’d heard his name, but there’s no doubt at the next clear words he catches. 

“-knew from the beginning what this was going to be with Jungkook.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen at Jin’s low, helpless tone. 

“I…” Jimin’s voice is almost too quiet to hear, miserable and muffled. “I know I did but…” 

Jungkook carefully lays the pouches of water beside him, glancing back indecisively as the six continue their hushed argument. He shouldn’t listen, they’d wanted him to leave, but the snarl of his name had been harsh, angry. 

“Of course I hate it, I hate it but we don’t have another choice.” Namjoon snaps, and Jungkook bites his lip, leaning back. He should leave, because it sounds private and personal, but they’d been talking about him, and there’s a shiver of dread running up his spine. Taehyung mutters something too quietly for Jungkook to hear, but Hoseok’s voice breaks the quiet, harsher than Jungkook’s ever heard it.

“That’s not fair Tae, you’re not the one who has to take a life, you’re not the one who’ll be holding the knife.” 

The cold dread calcifies into shuddering fear, quaking through Jungkook's racing heart that must be thundering loudly enough to give him away where he crouches, trembling. Because Jimin, who had hugged him so warmly and smiled at him so brightly, is muttering roughly.

"-not like we didn't plan to do this to Jungkook."

And Yoongi, who had ruffled his hair so gently and smiled at him so softly and tucked him into his side by the fire, Yoongi's voice is hard with fury.

"I wish like hell we could just kill Jeon ourselves, but we won't get him in time, killing Jungkook is our only option if-"

Jungkook's knees buckle, sound wavering and vision swimming as the words strangle through him, but he's aware enough of the echoing snap of the twigs he lands on, and the sudden swivel of six stricken gazes to face him, and the screaming panic of his heart as he staggers up uselessly. And the rough, unyielding grasp of Namjoon and Taehyung's hands as they lunge for him, dragging him back before he can even try to run. He struggles frantically against their iron holds, throws his head back and tries to scream, but all that emerges is broken sobbing, tears pouring down his face and terror lancing through his caving chest as his desperately darting eyes catch a snatch of Jimin's shock, Jin's acutely distressed expression. Jungkook is pushed to his knees on the ground in front of them and he doesn't try to get up, doesn't try to run, burying his face in his hands, voice strangled with betrayal and horror.

"Y-you're going to k-kill me, this whole t-time you j-just, you j-just…" 

His wracking sobs are the only sound in the silent clearing, and he tightens his trembling fingers against his face, heart frenzied and ricocheting in his ribcage. He wants them to speak, wretchedly wants them to deny it, because he can't convince himself that this was a lie, that everything had been a lie, that the people he felt safer with than he'd ever felt before had been planning to kill him the entire time. They're warm and good and kind like no one he ever could've imagined, and all of it is a lie. He lets himself drop heavily to lay on his side at their feet, tears pouring between his fingers and eyes screwed shut, pulsing misery carving bloody wounds through his chest, resounding with muffled sobs. His father had always told Jungkook with revulsion that he was weak, pathetic, and the duke had been right, he'd been right and maybe he'd been right about everything else too because Jungkook is pathetic, and they'd fooled him so easily and so completely and now they're going to kill him. 

He blinks open burning eyes, hiccups another sob, and through shaking fingers and blurring tears, Taehyung is still standing over him. His face is turned away, determinedly not looking at Jungkook, and his jaw is clenched, and Jungkook thinks of Taehyung's warm hand tugging him down beside the fire to lay together, fingers linked and bodies warm. Beside him, Jimin is clutching at his own chest, eyes screwed shut, and Jungkook remembers the gentleness of Jimin's small hand stroking through his hair as he drifted into sleep, calm and peaceful. Namjoon and Jin stand above him, hard gazes locked with each other, and waking up tucked warmly between them feels like lifetimes ago. Hoseok and Yoongi are clutching each other hands, expressions blurred through Jungkook's relentless tears. Yoongi had tucked Jungkook into his side by the fire, and Hoseok had made Jungkook laugh until he was gasping and then shot him a smile that had made him a different kind of breathless. And Jungkook had been stupid and pathetic and fallen for it, fallen for all of it, for all of them. 

Their warm smiles and their gentle touches and their praise and encouragement, and he was so stupid because no one had ever liked him and why would they? It made sense, it made too much sense, that they'd only looked at him like that and treated him like that because they'd planned to kill him, of course they'd pretended and he'd really let himself think... His chest aches and shudders, his tears pour down his face, and a sob wracks his chest. They'd probably laughed to each other at how pathetically desperate he was for their attention and affection, and they'd been so gentle and so kind and it all felt mocking and scornful and terrible now.

"No." Jin says urgently, and Jungkook startles to see the pain in his beautiful eyes, and wonders if he'd voiced any of the anguish screaming through him that Jin argued so vehemently. "No, Jungkook, we - we weren't mocking you, we-"

"Jungkook, we weren't-" Jimin starts tremulously, but he falls silent as Jungkook sobs, shakes his head desperately. 

"I th-thought you liked me." Jungkook gasps through tears, head falling back against the hard ground. Taehyung is crying over him now, and Namjoon is blinking hard and fast, and the forest itself is harder and sharper and dismal around them. "I thought you c-cared about me, I was so s-stupid, all y-you had to do was s-smile at me and I… I…" 

But it's worse than betrayal, crashing through him uncontrollably, the ocean smashing against the rocky shore, because it's not just betrayal but fierce, battering heartbreak, and just like that he's sinking, drowning. And he was never supposed to think of them like that, was never supposed to think of them like anything because they already had each other and they were beautiful and kind and much too good for him and didn't need him in the slightest but at least, at the very least he'd thought they liked him, even just as a person. But they didn’t, they never had, because it had all been to lure him in and kill him and it worked, it worked perfectly and easily and completely. The sobs flare through the bruising on his side and it hurts fiercely, but the pain in his heart blazes fiercer, and their voices are choked and hushed above him as he cries himself to exhaustion, as he falls unconscious at their feet as the sun starts to paint the sky a breathy pink, too bright for the brittle mess of his splintered heart twitching with anguish.

The sun is fractionally higher in the sky when he blinks his stinging eyes open, face raw with tears and head pounding. He feels hollow, chest an empty void, and it’s darkly familiar. He’d had to train himself into blocking out lesser emotions in the castle, with the duke and his soldiers and their violence and cruelty, and how much angrier and more brutal his father was when Jungkook was weak. So Jungkook became very, very good at not crying when he was hurt badly, but he’s never been hurt like this, never had his heart torn open and yanked apart, and the blankness he manages is wispy and fragile and not enough, never enough. Every few uneven breaths, a stab of reality slips in, a dash of memory that’s the warmth of one of their smiles, the soft tenderness of one of their touches, and suddenly the emptiness is slashed apart and the thorns tighten jaggedly around his seeping heart and he’s drowning again. 

They can’t look at him, any of them, as Hoseok steps up to him hesitantly, uncomfortably, as soon as Jungkook drags himself unsteadily to his feet. Hoseok’s eyes are bright with tears as he produces a short rope, but the hollowness in Jungkook’s chest hardly trembles as Hoseok’s shaking fingers wind it around his wrists, bind them together in front of him, whispering endless fervent apologies until Jungkook shakes his head harshly. It’s obvious that Hoseok tries to be gentle, but even as he knots the rope it tugs on Jungkook’s injured arm, and when he winces, all six of them flinch. Jin whispers a vehement apology from beside him, but Jungkook doesn’t look up, and doesn’t try to prevent the bitterness in his quiet voice. 

“Rope isn’t going to reopen the scars like the chains do.” He doesn’t look up to see their pained expressions past their sharp inhales or their winces, but he does grit his teeth as he looks down at his bound arms. “For wanting to kill the duke, you get to be just like him first.” He knows it’ll hurt them to hear, and he wants it to, and that sits uneasy in his chest. 

His bruised side throbs harder this time, when they set off, and everything about the sunlit trees and the scattering of bright leaves feels dulled and wrong. He’s never walked this far in his life, was only ever allowed in one wing of the castle and even pacing it wouldn’t have been this long a walk, and he’s so exhausted he could collapse and never move again, as they trudge on endlessly. He can’t run, with his arms bound like this, throwing off his meager balance, and he distantly and blankly wonders whether he would’ve tried escaping if they hadn’t tied him up. Maybe. He wouldn’t have made it far, between endurance and balance and exhaustion and the emotional toll it would wreak if they had to drag him back again.

When he raises a knee too high stepping over the thick roots of a tree, it pulls at his aching side and he instinctively leans into the throb, stumbling too far off balance. Forgetting his hands are tied, he tries to yank upwards to catch himself, but his bound arms just catch uselessly and he hits the ground hard, knocking the air from his lungs. There’s a flurry of movement around him, but he flinches hard at the hand reaching towards him in his periphery, rolling away hastily and gasping with the pain of his arm as he yanks it along. 

“D-don’t.” Jungkook pants, shaking his head and feeling his hands tremble. “Don’t, don’t.” His voice is frantic as he turns to see Jin crouched beside him, concerned hand outstretched but frozen. “Don’t.” Jungkook repeats weakly, and Jin rises quickly, stumbles back to where Jimin has his arms wrapped tightly around himself, face buried in Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi tears his eyes away as Jungkook shoves himself up roughly. His side throbs and his arm pulses with pain, but he drops his gaze to the ground, takes a shallow breath, and shoves everything down. Blank, numb. He starts walking, and when he winces, he can feel them all flinch around him again, and he curls his fingers into fists and blinks faster and harder. 

Their soft hands, their kind words and gentle touches, their warmth and their care, and the safety and happiness he’d never, ever thought he’d feel, and none of it had been real. For all the duke's rage about how weak Jungkook was, how pathetic, it had never swayed Jungkook because what could a selfish, cruel man like his father understand about strength or weakness? But the six of them, these beautiful boys knew how to care, knew how to be kind and knew how to love, and he’d been pathetic enough to follow them for days to his death. How ironic it was that his father had wasted years inflicting isolating misery and sharp, unrelenting pain and vicious, violent punishments and had never been able to break him, when it only took these boys a few hours of warm smiles and kind touches, and here he was, shattered beyond any semblance of repair. 

When they silently slip to his sides and continue through the woods again, the silence is heavy and dark around them, the blankness in his chest shattering under the ebbing misery and anguish flooding through him, and Jungkook doesn’t waver, doesn’t protest, and doesn’t try to run. Through the throbbing pain in his arm, the ache of his side, the lancing agony of the smoldering wreckage of his heart, Jungkook lets his head hang heavy, lets his tears stream hotly down his face, and lets the six of them lead him forward, through the bright sunlit woods and towards his death.  

Chapter Text

A week ago, it had been Yoongi's turn for the dreaded task of being the one to drag himself regretfully from door to door in the village, to inform the families that had volunteered to be the ones cut from rations that week (if the food didn’t stretch far enough), that the food indeed hadn’t stretched far enough. And he knew Hoseok and Namjoon were so much smoother and better at it, knew Jimin always had a prepared speech so he wouldn’t stammer or hesitate, knew Jin and Taehyung were gentle and collected but tried so hard not to look inside to see if there were any children so they wouldn’t cry. But it always cemented a pit in Yoongi’s stomach, hard and bitter and collapsing, because he knew too acutely what real hunger looked and felt like, and he hated condemning anyone to it. Too many of the scrawny children who worked in the fields would volunteer week after week to be the ones to miss rations, and then without dinner or breakfast, they'd drag themselves without complaint through the dark before sunrise to spend hours sweating in the dry heat to harvest the castle’s crops. When he leaned against the tilting fences, heart aching for them, watching them stagger between the wheelbarrows and sparse remaining rows of vegetables, he curled his fists and clenched his jaw and wanted to burn everything down. 

The urge to destroy it all and reduce it to ashes and rubble is echoing miserably in his chest now, with the full moon approaching tonight and just a few hours walk to the clearing, and the wild lack of control rattles worse within him than he thinks he’s ever felt. Because he’s been forced to do so many things he didn’t want to and didn’t think he could do, but he definitely, definitely can’t do this, can’t let them do this, and he has to, he has to. Jin is shuddering beside him, and Yoongi can see where his nails dig into his palms, where Hoseok curls into himself as tears slide down his face every few steps, where Taehyung stumbles ahead, blinded by tears and swallowing sobs. And Yoongi wants so badly to reach for their hands, to tug them against him, to offer them some comfort in any form, but it feels so acutely and horribly wrong to comfort each other right now. 

They’ve been walking in terrible silence for over an hour when Jungkook’s voice finally sounds, and Yoongi winces at how wilted and lifeless it emerges after how bright and curious and eager he’d been just hours ago, before he’d learned the truth. 

“He isn’t going to care that I’m dead.” Jungkook murmurs hollowly, and Namjoon and Jimin stumble to a halt but Jungkook doesn’t falter, steadily stepping forward, tears still glazed on his pale, miserable face and dejection evident enough that Yoongi has to look away. “If that’s what you’re hoping for, if this is… revenge or something. He won’t care.” His voice is trying for blankness but when Yoongi’s gaze darts back to him and away, the grief shining in his eyes makes Yoongi’s resolve crumble, and Jin has to yank him away from lurching into a tree. 

“No, no, we-” Namjoon shakes his head vehemently, shocked and insistent. “We aren’t… this isn’t revenge, we…” He looks helplessly around at them, and Yoongi feels like he’s choking, throat dry and constricted, and he can’t look up from the dry twigs and twisted roots he’s stepping over. 

“We have to break his curse.” Yoongi finally rasps, when the silence has gone on impossibly long, and he hears Jungkook’s startled breath, forces himself to turn to where Jungkook walks several arms lengths away, bound arms hanging in front of him and face lined with exhaustion, eyes shining with heartbreak so searing Yoongi drops his gaze immediately, feeling a cavernous void crack across his chest. Jin is haltingly explaining the curse as Yoongi kicks through the scattered leaves, tightens his fists, forces sharp breaths in and out, and blinks hard and fast. He wants to be back at the fireside with Jungkook’s warm weight tucked impossibly small at his side, his sparkling eyes looking up at Yoongi with too much admiration and trust, and brightening happily when Yoongi laughs and runs a hand fondly through his soft, dark hair. He clenches a fist into his shirt at his chest, rubs roughly down his face and doesn’t cry, doesn’t cry. Hoseok falters in front of him, and Yoongi straightens when he notices the others have ground to a halt as well. 

“If…” Jungkook’s big eyes are wide and tear-filled when Yoongi forces himself to turn and face where the boy has frozen midstep, and his voice is stricken. “If you k-kill me, the villages won't s-starve?” 

“Yes.” Taehyung whispers brokenly, and Yoongi can see the glimmer of tears before Jungkook’s head drops to his chest with a gasp, and he takes an aborted step forward as Jungkook sinks to his knees, breath hitching. Namjoon and Hoseok’s hands are outstretched towards him but they don't move, expressions pained. 

“My b-blood will break the curse.” Jungkook’s whisper is achingly small, and Yoongi’s fingers twitch with the urge to comfort, to pull him close, to press his face into his hair and whisper endless apologies and useless explanations and beg and plead for his forgiveness, but he doesn’t deserve to, they don’t deserve to. Jungkook’s shoulders are shaking as he raises bound hands to press against his mouth to muffle a sob, and Yoongi tilts his head to press the backs of his hands too roughly against his eyes, misery lapping at his fragile self-control. He can hear the quiet, hitching breaths of the others around him, and he tries to steady his own, to force down the strangling sensation of sorrow tangling barbed around his lungs and heart and threatening to force him to his knees. There's an anguished sob, and another, before Jungkook pushes himself unsteadily to his feet, eyes glassy, determined. 

“I won’t run.” Jungkook breathes, unwavering gaze locked on Namjoon, who staggers back under the crushing weight of it as Yoongi’s heart pounds in his chest, eyes wide with shock. He flinches when Jungkook’s feverish eyes rove over him, across each of them, before he nods to himself and drops his gaze to his bound arms. 

“I won’t try to escape. The lives of entire villages are… are much more important than mine.”

Yoongi feels his hand shake at the tremor in Jungkook’s voice. 

“It’s my father that cursed them, and…” Jungkook swallows hard, and when he looks up, there are tears pouring down his face again. “He was always going to kill me one day anyway.”

Jimin makes a terrible, wounded noise from somewhere behind him, and Yoongi’s heart feels molten, blazing. 

“He almost d-did before, and he was always going to go too f-far one day, or just kill me on purpose, but…” Jungkook tilts his head back against the tears slipping down his cheeks, face crumpling, and his voice is unsteady. “My d-death wouldn’t have helped anyone then. At least this way, it’ll m-matter.” 

Jungkook takes a shuddering breath, drops his chin to his chest, and rubs his face furiously against his arm. When he looks up again, his low voice is darker. “And this way, the duke doesn’t get the p-pleasure.” 

Jimin and Hoseok’s tearing sobs echo through the clearing, and Jin is tugging them away into the woods as Yoongi stands, rooted to the spot, legs numb and mind buzzing. Namjoon’s hands are shaking at his sides, expression wild and frantic, and Taehyung is sinking slowly to the ground beside him. Yoongi wants to stride into the woods blindly and keep walking forever, to never look back and never prod the surface of this suffocating torrent of despair. He can’t stop seeing Jungkook lunge selflessly and without hesitation between Yoongi and the vicious swing of the soldier’s sword, can’t stop hearing Jungkook’s bright giggle and seeing his shining eyes and beaming smile as he tiptoed around the fire to sink down beside him. Jungkook’s surprised exhale and resounding smile when Jimin had tugged him into a hug, the glowing admiration in his eyes when Namjoon had started in on cross pollination, Yoongi’s chest aches with it, and everything feels wrong and dark and terrible. He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists, forces the dry air through his tremulous lungs and past his quaking heart. 

When Jin and the others stumble back out of the trees, eyes red-rimmed and swollen with tears, Jungkook looks around at them again, then nods to himself, and his voice is quiet and controlled. 

“I wish you hadn’t lied to me.” Jungkook whispers, and Yoongi drops his gaze to the ground, the words blazing through him. “I wish you hadn’t made me feel… feel cared about and…” Jungkook breaks off and exhales shakily. “I wish you’d just taken me, dragged me by force, it would’ve been…” Yoongi chances a glance up, and his eyes prickle with tears at Jungkook’s anguished gaze, his broken whisper. “This was crueler.” 

Yoongi’s shoulders shake, and he bites his lip hard, and blinks too fast, and doesn’t cry. There’s something jagged inside when he breathes, twisting and stealing his breath, but Jungkook’s eyes soften, his gaze drops to his bound arms again. 

“But don’t…” Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Don’t be sorry about breaking the curse.” Jungkook turns to look at Namjoon, whose eyes are gleaming with tears, hands clenched tightly in his own shirt. “I want the villages to eat, to always have enough to eat, I…” Jungkook turns to the rest of them, eyes bright, and bows his head. “I’m sorry for the hardship my father brought to your families. I’m sorry for how he’s hurt you.” 

“I’m s-sorry for how we hurt y-you.” Yoongi chokes, tears burning in his eyes, and Taehyung and Jimin nod fervently where they’re curled into themselves. Hoseok looks stricken, face tight with misery, and Jin has leaned back into the shadows of the trees, face hidden. Yoongi’s heart aches for Namjoon, for the strangling guilt he knows his boyfriend is drowning in, the grief that must be swirling through his lungs. Namjoon’s voice is tight and tremulous. 

“We’re so sorry we hurt you, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook nods, and a tear streaks down his cheek, and his smile is terrible and empty. “I’m used to it. I shouldn’t have expected you to…” Jungkook’s breath hitches, and another tear slips down his pale cheek, another. “I should’ve known. I just… no one’s been k-kind to me like you were, g-gentle with me, I just r-really thought…” Yoongi's heart caves and crumbles, choking rubble and ash and dust as Jungkook presses his bound hands to his face, rubs his eyes into his palms roughly, then raises his head. “You have to save your families. You have to save your villages, and you will. I… we can keep going, we should walk, I can’t…” 

Jin nods quickly and fervently at the warble of Jungkook's voice, wiping tears away with his sleeve and pushing off the tree to take the lead, steps almost frantically hurried. Yoongi can’t bring himself to reach for Taehyung’s shaking hand beside him as he begins to step forward too, can’t allow himself the meager comfort now or he’ll break, will drop to the ground and sink through it and not be dragged up again. He can’t look at Namjoon, who drops to kneel before Jungkook and fumblingly unties his arms, tossing the rope away with disgust and bowing deeply with fervent murmured apologies at Jungkook’s wide-eyed stare.

The woods are silent and foreboding as they pick their way through the stretching beams of sunlight and the paling evening and fading sky, scattered leaves scraping past their feet in the light breeze. Every so often, one of them succumbs to the tears that well up, thick and heavy, and much too soon, the moon is beginning to rise. It gleams silver and sharp and ominous, casting the tree’s shadows dancing around their silent steps. 

Yoongi sets his jaw, clenches his fists, and forces his mind to the fields, to the blackened, withering crops, to the resigned, disappointed sighs of the families at the ends of the distribution lines who the rations just didn’t stretch to, to the hungry teenagers swaying in the fields for hours under the sun, to the endless patches of ripped fabric that made up the flimsy shirt of the thin toddler he’d seen racing through the street just days ago, and his heart sears. He thinks fiercely of what they’ll gain, all the reasons they must, and he desperately doesn’t think of big, sparkling eyes, a bright, awestruck smile, a high, delighted laugh, because they have to do this, they have to. Their inky shadows ripple across the ground under the moon as they press on in silence, and the tears that slip down his face stream hot and unnoticed in the dark.  

Namjoon’s hands are shaking far before they creep into the clearing with just minutes until midnight, the moon gleaming full and damning in the black sky. The outline of the knife in its sheath sends nausea racing through him, and his head spins with the reality of it, constricting his lungs, heart in his throat. There’s a distinctive circle of pale white stones set into the middle of the clearing, the flat, smoothed surface of each stone reflecting the shine of the moon blindingly, and Jungkook’s hand flies to his mouth, eyes frightened as he takes an instinctive step away, then stills, and forces himself forward. Taehyung’s fingers slip into Namjoon's and clutch tight, Jin’s chin hooking over his shoulder and Jimin's arms squeezing around his waist, and the dread pulses and flares with every hesitant step forward Jungkook takes. They flinch, all at once, when he steps into the circle and raises his head to look back at them, looking so terribly young and small and afraid. 

Namjoon shakes his head sharply when Yoongi steps forward, jaw tight, trying to say something reassuring, because Namjoon can’t listen right now, can't be reminded that they have to, can’t be assured that he’s saving the villages, can’t hear anything that might cause him to falter past where he’s faltering already, because he can’t and can’t and must. Jimin tightens his arms around him before letting go, and Jin slips up to press their foreheads together. Taehyung squeezes his hand before he lets go, and Hoseok nods at him, clutches his own sleeves, doesn’t move closer. Namjoon’s heart is slamming deafeningly in his chest, and his throat is constricted and thick as he turns to face Jungkook, as he forces himself forward one step, then another. 

They’re both shaking when he reaches the circle, but Jungkook isn’t crying and Namjoon brushes his own treacherous tears harshly from his cheeks. Jungkook is pale and hunched into himself as he gazes steadily past Namjoon, and Namjoon follows his gaze to where his boyfriends huddle together in the darkness. Jungkook shivers, then turns his big eyes up to Namjoon, and sinks to kneel before him. 

“I won’t run.” Jungkook whispers tremulously, and Namjoon’s chest is fracturing and crumbling as he forces a sob back, as his fingers shake. Jungkook raises his voice, gaze drifting back to the others. “I…” Jungkook blinks hard, eyes bright with tears. “I hope you’ll have plenty to eat and stay w-warm this winter.” His tears spill over then, and his breath hitches. “Your… your love for each other made my life b-brighter. Being around you…” Jungkook shakes his head, smiling blindingly through tears for a moment. “I h-hope you’ll be happy together. Forever.” 

The dagger is rattling at Namjoon's side from the force of his shuddering breaths, and he muffles a sob in his sleeve, closing his eyes tightly and trying to breathe past the distinctive sobs of his boyfriends from beyond the circle. 

“We c-can’t do this.” Jimin cries, voice ragged and miserable. 

“We have to.” Namjoon whispers, hard and terrible, fingers dropping to the hilt of the dagger. 

“We can’t.” Yoongi chokes, and his hands are covering his face but his eyes are glinting through the shadows, anguished and desperate. Beside him, Taehyung has buried his face in Hoseok’s chest, and Jin looks close to throwing up. 

“The curse h-has to be broken.” Hoseok’s voice is shaky and hoarse and agonized, and Jungkook’s breath hitches in a muffled sob below him, tears streaming down his face faster than he can hastily wipe them away as he shakes his head fervently. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whispers, distressed and fervent. “I’m sorry, I’m t-trying not to make it harder, I’m t-trying not to c-cry, I know you have to, you h-have to, I’m…” Jungkook buries his face in his hands, sobs just once, sharp and broken. “I’m just s-scared.” 

Namjoon's heart is rupturing in his burning chest, and the moon is blazing white overhead, and he can’t feel the tears streaking down his numb cheeks, can’t feel his fingers around the hilt of the dagger, can’t feel anything, tries desperately not to feel anything. 

“Close your eyes, Jungkook.” Namjoon whispers, strained and breaking. 

Jungkook does, crying and trembling, dark hair swirling gently in the light breeze around tear-covered cheeks, looking too young and so small, rigid with terror. His boyfriends are weeping desperately, and Jungkook is crying hopelessly, and the clearing is blurring and wavering through Namjoon's own tears but he can’t feel it, can’t feel anything. And everything about this is wrong, all of it, because Jungkook is innocent and has been hurt over and over and over by the one who should rightfully be dying here, and everyone has always hurt Jungkook, and the dagger shakes and trembles in Namjoon's death grip because it's his turn to, and he has to, but he can't, but he must.

He wants to drop to his knees and tug Jungkook into his arms, clutch him to his chest tightly and never let him go, wants to hold him safe and protect him and never let anything hurt him ever again, wants to kiss his trembling lips until he’s smiling, until he’s laughing brightly, big eyes sparkling with joy - but he can’t, he can’t. And he can’t kill him, he can’t kill Jungkook, but the villages are starving and the winter will kill so many of them and he has to do this now. The breeze is warm but goosebumps rise on his arms and he doesn't move, can't move, can't do it.

There’s a blinding flash of light beside him, and he cries out as an invisible force suddenly pushes him backwards. Namjoon topples lightly out of the circle, chest heaving with shock, and when he yanks his head up, the moon spirit is standing calmly at his place between the bright stones. Namjoon’s jaw drops before he scrambles into a bow, hearing the rush of his boyfriends behind him to do the same. And the moon spirit doesn’t appear for every sacrifice, and hasn’t been sighted in Namjoon’s lifetime as far as he knows, but she shines before them and gazes down as Jungkook’s eyes fly open at the sound of their gasp, watches him freeze, round eyes wide. 

“You have a sacrifice for me?”

The moon spirit glows a blazing white, and he can’t look at her directly, can’t make out her features clearly as he squints in her direction, heart thundering at the question. 

“We n-need the withering curse b-broken.” Namjoon stammers, then takes a breath, chest thick and panicked. “We… the crops, we… we’ll starve.” He can’t look at Jungkook, can’t tear his eyes from where he’s fixed them on the dark shadows of the shining stones, the staggering guilt of condemnation, of sentencing Jungkook, tightening his throat. 

The moon spirit nods when he looks up, and her voice has an echoing, unsettling quality that breathes terrifying power. “This boy has the blood of the caster of the curse you wish to break. You would sacrifice him?”

His boyfriends’ gazes are stricken on him but he’s frozen, everything hard and cold and stiff in his chest, unable to even mouth a yes, unable to nod, unwilling to. The moon spirit’s smile is almost gentle as she turns to where Jungkook kneels, and tilts her head down to see him. Jungkook’s lip wobbles, big eyes round with fear, and when she raises a gleaming hand and a shining silver dagger forms between her fingers, Jungkook gasps and jolts so hard Namjoon feels the earth beneath him must be quaking with the resounding wrongness of it, of all of it. 

The moon spirit’s white fingers smooth over soft dark hair, and she tilts Jungkook's head back slowly, tears streaming down his face as he squeezes his eyes shut, and Namjoon feels his heart shatter as a terrified sob rips out of Jungkook’s chest. Taehyung wails beside him, a terrible wounded sound, and Jimin slides to the ground, hands clutching at his face. Yoongi starts forward desperately, slamming harmlessly into the invisible barrier that’s formed around the glowing stones, and Hoseok tugs at his own hair frantically beside him as Jin slams against the barrier just behind Yoongi, hopeless and useless and frantic. 

The dagger slips from Namjoon’s numb fingers to land softly in the sparse grass, and his breath tears from his lungs. The moon spirit slides her hand to Jungkook’s cheek, and he sobs sharply again, eyes closed and face crumpled with terror as she kneels to face him. She reaches down to grasp at his hand, raising it and carefully pricking the blade against his finger. A bead of blood wells up, and with a wave of her shining hand, it vanishes. Jungkook’s breath is shuddering out of his lungs, tears pouring down his face as she rises to face them, and he blinks his eyes open tentatively as they all stare in shock. 

“The curse is broken.” She smiles, and nods at Namjoon. “Your fields will be green by sunrise.” 

“But…” Jungkook rasps, stricken face twisted with confusion. “But I…” 

The moon gazes down at him steadily, and nods. “I’ve accepted the sacrifice from you. From all of you.” Her gaze drifts to Namjoon, to the boys huddled around him. “May your crops thrive and your villages prosper.” 

There’s a dazzling light as she fades from the clearing, and Namjoon blinks, mind tumultuous and halting and not comprehending. There’s a moment of silence, a breeze that drifts through the dark clearing, the moon bright and full overhead, Jungkook’s shuddering gasps the only other sound as his shining tears drip into his shaking hands, and Namjoon’s boyfriends are frozen around him, unmoving, unbreathing. 

Then they’re lurching forward all at once as if yanked bodily, stumbling and throwing themselves across the white stones. Jimin is the fastest, and Jungkook is yanked into his chest a split second before Taehyung’s long arms are wrapping around Jungkook from behind, both their sobs heavy and their eyes screwed shut around Jungkook's frozen form. Yoongi is kneeling beside them, face pressed into Jungkook’s hair and murmuring fervent apologies as Hoseok grasps Jungkook’s limp hand, presses his lips to it, clutches it tightly between both his own. Jin is collapsing behind them, arms wrapped around the three youngest, eyes closed and tears pouring.

Namjoon looks down at his empty hand that had held the dagger, tears streaking hotly down his own face. Jungkook is wide eyed and rigid between them for the space of one shuddering breath, then he’s gasping and pushing his face into Jimin’s chest, trembling and clutching at them tightly and crying hard. Namjoon jolts himself into motion, crawling forward on numb hands and knees, heart quaking in his chest as Jungkook’s wide eyes lock with his. Namjoon swallows a sob as Jungkook’s wet eyes soften over Jimin’s shoulder, as he frees a trembling hand to reach out towards Namjoon, and Namjoon reaches out desperately to grasp cold fingers, presses his lips to a soft palm, and holds Jungkook’s hand gently to his forehead, to his chest. 

The moon is nestling in the leafy treetops on the opposite side of the clearing by the time they separate, limbs heavy and faces raw from crying, shifting with uncertainty. Jungkook looks rattled and windswept in the aftermath of everything, and Namjoon aches with the overwhelming need to tuck him into his side. He finds that there's very little he can do to resist the urge and very little reason to try, and when he reaches out and tugs him in, the soft sigh Jungkook lets out as he curls into him and clutches at his shirt makes Namjoon's eyes burn again despite being beyond cried out, throat dry and scratching. 

"Jungkook," Jin murmurs suddenly, and Jungkook turns his face against Namjoon's chest to blink at him. Jin looks conflicted, overwhelmed and anxious, strung out with it, and he opens and closes his mouth several times before he finally blurts, "Please come home with us." 

Jungkook's eyes widen, and he makes to sit up, but Namjoon leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Jungkook's eyes close with a quiet, content exhale as he sinks back into Namjoon's warm side. 

"Please, Jungkook." Namjoon murmurs, voice cracking, and Jungkook's hand tightens in his shirt and sends a surge of warmth through his chest. "Please let us… let us make it up to you, let us take care of you. We… we care about you a lot and-" 

"We love you." Jungkook gasps at the words as Jimin leans forward, eyes pleading, and Jungkook's face crumples as he buries it further into Namjoon's chest. "We love you, Jungkook, we'll love you and you d-deserve so much love and we-"

"We'll earn it." Hoseok whispers, expression resolved and insistent. "We'll work hard to earn your love, we… we love you, Jungkook." 

"Jungkook," Yoongi chokes, gaze fixed on the moon where it sinks into the trees. "I… we weren't pretending, I promise we weren't…" Jungkook's hold loosens in Namjoon's shirt and he reaches a hand out, Yoongi lunging to hold it tightly between both of his and closing his eyes, exhaling deeply, and his voice trembles. "Jungkook, you're kind and beautiful and brave, and we care about you so much, we… we… this entire time…" 

Yoongi's eyes are tight with distress as Jungkook tilts his head, as he gently sits up and leans away from Namjoon to consider them, and Namjoon doesn't realize he's holding his breath, that all of them are, until Taheyung gasps his out. And Jungkook, face scrubbed raw after endless tears, still pale after the shuddering terror, peering vulnerable between them, Jungkook smiles achingly small and breathlessly hopeful, a sparkle in his big eyes, and nods shyly. 

There's something wildly joyous and frenzied rattling through Namjoon's chest, and he's beaming as Jimin leaps onto Jin's back with a cheer, as Yoongi sags into Hoseok in relief, smiling in disbelief, and Taehyung leans forward, expression dazed.

"Can I please kiss you?" 

Yoongi sighs and gently tugs at Taehyung's hair from beside him, exasperated, but Jungkook just blushes deeply, looking warily at the rest of them with uncertain, wide eyes. Namjoon turns to see his boyfriends steadily meeting Jungkook's gaze with encouraging smiles, with soft assurance, and content blooms in him as Jungkook nods again, eyes darting to Taehyung and away. 

"Yes please." Jungkook's eyes shine, and a grin blooms on Taehyung's face as he crawls forward, and Namjoon reaches over to grip Jin's hand in his own with a warm smile. The clearing seems to glow brighter in the distant moonlight at Jungkook's breathy sigh when Taehyung gently presses their lips together, and he's hardly leaning back, eyes carefully scanning for a reaction, when Jungkook is chasing after him to wrap an arm around his shoulders and tug him closer, to press their lips together again, eyes closed and expression radiantly happy in a way that flares bright in Namjoon's fluttering heart. 

Taehyung laughs delightedly as he leans away again, and Jungkook has hardly shot him a shy smile back before Hoseok is leaning around Taehyung, waiting for Jungkook's wide-eyed nod before he strokes a hand tenderly down Jungkook's cheek and kisses him softly. Jungkook smiles brightly, turning to Jin and tipping his head back, and Jin laughs and obligingly ducks his head to press a kiss against Jungkook's lips that curve into a smile. Yoongi hadn't moved, but when Jungkook peers past Jin to tilt his head at him with the faintest pout, he scrambles up to playfully push Taehyung into Jin, and his long fingers are still trembling faintly when he brushes a hand through Jungkook's soft hair, pressing forward softly and smiling against Jungkook's lips when his eyes flutter closed.

Namjoon shifts where he sits, heart pulsing warm and content in his chest, and Jungkook turns to grin at him. He exhales, brightly relieved when Jungkook crawls over to him to settle beside him again, to lean into his side and tug his arm around him, and when Namjoon leans down to kiss him deeply, trying to push apology and care and love against soft, yielding lips, Jungkook's happy sigh releases the remaining stiff tension from his shoulders. He wants to hear it again and again, wants Jungkook to always be happy and warm and tucked safely against him. But there's a quiet huff of frustration, and then Jungkook is being tugged upright as Jimin climbs onto Jungkook to straddle his lap, eyes dancing with mischief, waiting for permission. Jungkook swallows hard, and when he nods, Jimin loops both arms around his neck and kisses him long enough that they break apart gasping, faces flushed, Jungkook tipping his forehead against Jimin's and giggling breathlessly. 

His boyfriends press in around them, arms winding and faces pressing and eyes closing, and the breeze sweeps through the clearing again and whispers through their hair as they breathe softly, entwined together impossibly close on the ground. There’s a hand stroking through Namjoon’s hair and a hand clasping his warmly, an arm wound securely around his shoulders and a face pressed into his back, and he exhales, dropping a light kiss to the shoulder he leans his forehead against. Even when they finally force themselves to rise, they can’t seem to separate, arms slung around each other impractically and hands grasping each other and being forced to let go as they enter the woods and have to navigate through the crowded trees. But they don’t stop, don’t let go, and they pick their way back through the forest wound together, curl up around each other to fall asleep that night and the next, and trade endless kisses until they’re walking past the thriving green fields of endless healthy crops, as far back as the horizon, spirits soaring and hearts bursting with relief because the curse is broken, and they’ve gained so, so much more than they set out to lose, and they’re going to be okay, they're going to be fine, they're going to be together.  

---

When Jungkook blinks sleepily awake, the room is still dark but the enormous bed is empty around him, and he sighs and stretches before rolling out of bed to shower and brush his teeth. The sun has hardly broken the horizon through the frosted glass window of the bathroom, but the six of them had been rising well before dawn every day that week to help in the fields, where one of the farms was expanding to handle a surplus of grains they had so much of that they would be sharing with the neighbouring region. Jungkook had been helping last week until he’d fallen ill with a mild cold, and although he hasn’t had a fever in days and his head has been feeling completely clear since yesterday, he still tires too easily to be allowed to help. He doesn’t bother dressing as he pads back into the bedroom, shrugging and slipping on a pair of Namjoon’s pants that ride low on his hips even knotted tightly, toweling his hair dry. They don’t have plans to go out today, so he doesn’t need a shirt, since he runs warm and especially considering the fact that he’s generally sprawled under the weight of two or three or six of his boyfriends at any given moment when they’re all home.

He rubs his eyes sleepily and runs a hand through his damp hair as he turns into the living room, leaning against the doorway and smiling. They’ve already returned from the fields and showered, so they must have had an earlier start than usual today, and he feels a surge of gratitude for how quietly they must have dressed and departed that morning to allow him the extra rest. Namjoon and Taehyung are draped over the table, reading a newspaper, and Yoongi is rattling sleepily around the kitchen, and Jin and Jimin are tiredly folding laundry, leaning against the couches and eyes half-closed. Hoseok is standing at the window, watching the sunrise, and Jungkook slips across the room to duck under his arm and plaster himself against him, humming happily when Hoseok pulls him even tighter, gazing out at the pink sunrise blending into the yellow sky, the winter melting into the spring. 

“Mmm… beautiful.” Jin murmurs, stepping up behind them, and Jungkook tilts his head back to see Jin’s gaze unabashedly fixed on his shirtless torso and not the view outside the window. He laughs, poking Jin’s face. 

“Look who’s talking.” Jungkook smirks. 

“Oh, I’m looking.” Taehyung’s low voice makes him tilt his head back the other way, and he grins at the dark eyes roaming up his body, then jumps at Jimin’s warm hand snaking around his waist to splay across his bare abdomen. 

“Why look when you can touch?” Jimin challenges, and Jungkook stills before shivering at the lips that press to his bare shoulder from the other side, and he turns to see Hoseok’s bright eyes under raised eyebrows. 

“Why touch when you can taste?” Hoseok mouths smugly across bare skin, and Jungkook tilts his head further to allow Hoseok to drag his mouth along Jungkook's neck, lets his eyes flutter closed and drops his weight further into Jimin’s hold. 

“I’d love a taste.” Namjoon’s chin hooks over Jungkook’s other shoulder, voice deep and eyes hungry when Jungkook cranes to catch his gaze. He gasps as Jimin’s grip tightens and hot fingers begins to slide up his bare chest, as Hoseok’s tongue presses insistently against his neck, as Jin and Namjoon’s faces presses closer to his and Taehyung’s eyes darken. Jungkook arches breathlessly as two other hot hands latch possessively onto his waist, and he lets his eyes drop closed again. Then they all jump as there’s a slam of cabinets from behind them, and Yoongi’s grumble rings out.

“What did I say about seducing in the morning?” 

Jimin sighs, releasing Jungkook with a huff as Hoseok steps away to lean back against the window, leaving Jungkook’s skin cold in the rush of bodies stepping back. 

“Not until the sun’s all the way up.” His boyfriends chorus together, Jin rolling his eyes at Jungkook from behind him, and Jungkook laughs as Yoongi mumbles something indistinct in reply. Taehyung raises an eyebrow at Jungkook and inclines his head, and Jungkook grins before he skips over to the kitchen, sliding past the counter to tuck himself between Yoongi’s outstretched arms reaching into a cabinet and ducking to bury his face in Yoongi’s chest. Yoongi pauses, sleepy eyes blinking open wider, and Jungkook raises his face to pout up at him, hearing Namjoon and Jimin snickering from across the counter. 

Yoongi’s soft spot for him is one he too frequently abuses, but that doesn’t stop him from smiling, pleased, as Yoongi sighs and leans forward to press a kiss to his waiting lips. 

“Hey,” Hoseok protests from across the room, “Yoongi, it’s your rule.” 

Yoongi raises a hand to ruffle through Jungkook’s hair with a small smile as Jungkook leans into it and hums contently. Then Yoongi’s grip is tightening, and Jungkook hardly has time to blink, stunned, before Yoongi sharply turns them to press Jungkook into a cabinet, fingers latching onto his bare waist as he sinks his teeth into Jungkook's neck. Jungkook gasps, arching up against the cabinets, heat pulsing through him as he hears the choked protests of his boyfriends, then Hoseok is yanking Yoongi off of him with a frustrated huff. 

Yoongi is pushed into Jimin’s waiting arms, who immediately winds both arms around his neck and pulls him in to kiss away his satisfied smirk. Namjoon and Jin are there a second later, pressing Jungkook back into the cabinets where Yoongi had been a moment ago, and their heads collide painfully when they both lean forward to kiss him, and his giggle is bright and gleeful. Jin rolls his eyes before he raises the hand stroking up and down Jungkook’s side to cup Namjoon’s cheek softly and pull him into a kiss, and Jungkook leans his weight further back on the cabinet, grinning. He laughs breathlessly as Hoseok reaches between them to yank Jungkook into his chest, Taehyung wrapping both arms around his waist from behind to to press kisses to his bare back as Hoseok noses into his hair, and Jungkook closes his eyes with a happy sigh. 

Tomorrow morning, he'll join his boyfriends in the field expansion work, and in the afternoon they'll meet with the duchess in the new community center they'd been building since last autumn to discuss the village's latest budget from the crown, and its local and regional allocations for the families and working adults in the south side of the village. Once they'd returned from the moon's clearing, Jungkook had used his status as a royal to sway audience with the king, and he and his boyfriends had presented to the palace, had reported the duke’s abuses of power and failures to serve the villages he was assigned to care for, and hardly four days had passed before the king had taken action. The palace guards had been sent to imprison the duke and his soldiers, and a duchess had been temporarily assigned to remedy the wrongs inflicted on the region. The announcement from the palace had arrived just last month, and the kind, benevolent duchess that has been handling their affairs and restorations for the past year was now officially assigned to the villages permanently. In just the past six months, she’d been building the budgets designated for repairs and brought in tools and training to begin reinforcing their homes and fixing up their markets. She’d built a new school, a new orphanage, and was responsible for the new expansions of their fields, the introduction of special grains and crops they’d been able to grow and sell. The villages have thrived under her care, and Jungkook has never set foot in the duke's castle and never intends to again, and can hardly breathe around the freedom and joy that swell within him, where he was and where he is. 

Jungkook wakes every morning to warm embraces and soft touches, his days are filled with kind words and gentle affection, and he falls asleep to sweet kisses and tender caresses. He'd never imagined a single heart could glow so brightly, shine with so much love. The west fields are spreading roots, the flowers are starting to poke through the soil green and hopeful, and the trees are blossoming under the warm sun like Jungkook is blossoming and blooming under the love of six beautiful boys who cherish him deeply. It’s going to be a very good spring.