Chapter Text
Pain.
Jungkook ran faster and faster, forcing his legs to cooperate despite the ache in his ankle, the blood dripping down his back, and the dizziness he was starting to experience. Every time he tripped over another rock or fell down another small side of the mountain, hitting his head or his shoulder or the lacerations on his back made him weaker and weaker. Then he heard it.
Running water.
He knew the maps of the northern lands and knew one thing through his life. Water moved south, and south was where he wanted to be. So he pushed himself back up and moved towards the sound of what he hoped was a waterfall that would lead him to his unknown but desired destination.
“He’s this way!”
He turned back, eyes widening at the sound of the dogs barking. They were still on his tail. The dogs were still chasing him, and if he was caught… He didn’t even want to think of the consequences.
So he ran even faster if that was possible. He pushed through the trees, through the softening mud from the winter snows that melted in the spring. The sun was setting, so he was worried of tripping or falling and killing himself if he wasn’t careful. But death was more welcomed then going back. He’d never go back.
The sounds of the dogs and bounty hunters were getting closer as he weakly pushed through. The water grew louder and louder until finally he saw it. The brush stopped and he pumped the brakes as his pounding heart sank with dread.
He was at the side of the waterfall, a large one that fell forty feet below into a pool that was obviously fast and dangerous. He spotted some large rocks, wondering if he dove right for one would his fate be sealed and this nightmare over.
“I see him! Stop!”
Jungkook turned and “shit”. Sure enough, the bounty hunters let go of the black wolf-like dogs and they took off directly for him.
And he jumped. With every hope in every fiber of his being, he prayed for death or freedom.
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“Get up you royal pain the ass. We need to get moving.”
Taehyung groaned, swatting at the hand gently poking him in the face. “Jiminie, stop.”
“Hurry up, Your Highness. The horses are ready. Madie, always a pleasure to see you, love.”
There was a giggle from Taehyung’s left. “You too, Sir Jimin.”
Taehyung shifted, turning on his side to look at the brunette beauty next to him. Her skin was smooth and gentle despite the farming she had to do with her family. But she was tanned from all the outdoor work, thin and lean. If she was born in a higher family, she’d have Lords all over the land trying to court her into the castles. But she’s told the prince on multiple occasions that she was built for the land, for medicine. She enjoyed it, and she wouldn’t change.
It was one the reasons he kept coming back and volunteering to make the week and half long journey north. A warm bed with no strings was hard to find as one of the princes of the Kingdom.
“When will I see you again?” she asked when he faced her. Those thin but skilled fingers danced over his cheeks, brushing his own long dark locks out of his face.
“I’m heading south to the castle now that we have my mother’s supplies. I’m not sure when I'll be back.”
“I may be married when you return.”
Taehyung arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“My father found a possible suiter.” A smirk quickly appeared on her face when Taehyung’s jaw dropped. “Got you. Although I am of age and he is discussing the possibility. I think he’s pickier than I am, to be frank. There’s not many who looks as handsome as you, my prince.”
He chuckled, kissing her briefly. “I wish the best for you, Madie. Should you find a suitor, just let me know. Perhaps I could send a gift.”
“A royal gift from our youngest prince? Oh, how lucky am I?”
It was a few minutes later when he was able to emerge from the small, wooden home that was on the large property. Jimin stood by two horses tied to a tree, eating his own dried meat for breakfast and arching an eyebrow as Taehyung approached. He was slipping his white, long sleeve cloth shirt over his body as he did.
“Have a good night?” Jimin teased.
“Don’t be mad because you slept by yourself last night.”
“Your family hates my love life. Maybe if the King would stop sending Yoongi to the Southern Isles I’d be able to embrace a love life. He's been there since winter kicked in.”
“Based on the way negotiations are going, don’t get your hopes up.”
Taehyung and Jimin had known each other most of their young and adult lives. They were only young boys when Jimin arrived at the castle, weak and tired. Taehyung offered to look over the boy, curious of the newcomer and they swiftly became close friends. He begged his father not to send him away, and eventually Jimin was assigned to Taehyung as courtier, although really his job was to make sure the prince had clothes, was fed, trained, and didn’t do anything too stupid. Actually guiding the youngest of eth three princes in the Kim Kingdom was practically impossible. He was too wild to be tamed.
After securing their newly gathered supplies and saying one more goodbye to Madie as she strapped up her own horse for the fields, the two set off north.
Rarely did the prince get to travel wherever he wanted to now. He was usually the one that his father sent on small missions to settle internal disputes between towns and lands or trades. He enjoyed the land and travel, but he didn't have the same freedoms he used to. His mother also sent him to gather supplies for her paintings, most of which were only found up north due to the flowers that grew near the mountains in the spring.
So he ensured to get enough for the next few months before taking a day or two to enjoy himself.
Up north, that included two things. Madie (enough said) and waterfalls. Taehyung loved waterfalls. The sea was gorgeous and he spent plenty of time south near the trade routes to see it too. And there were many rivers running through the kingdom, but he loved the look of waterfalls. The way they flowed and didn’t care what was in their way. They were majestic and marvelous, and he always ensured to find the one he and Jimin stumbled upon years before when they got lost in the dark of the mountains.
It was a short trip, only two or three hours to the small lake that was created due to the power of the waterfall that fed it. They arrived at the top of the hill, seeing their own little playground towards the bottom when Jimin halted his horse.
“What is that?”
Taehyung saw it too.
A body. Half in the water, half out. It appeared to be a man, face down in the weeds on the edge of the water as it brushed over him. His clothes looked slightly torn, and his shirt had a tint of pink. Taehyung wondered if that was from blood.
So he moved forward.
“Prince Taehyung, wait.”
He did, reluctantly. “What?”
“What if it’s a trap?”
“The north isn’t that clever. It’s likely another defector.”
“If so, then he’s probably dead. He isn't moving.”
“Then we can’t let him contaminate the water. This flows into the river through town.”
“We can get the townsfolk to–”
“Jimin, come on. If we get the townsfolk involved, let’s at least have something to tell them.”
“Fine, but stay back and let me look first.”
He did. He paused a few feet from the body on his horse as Jimin dropped to the ground. Slowly, Jimin nudged him. Nothing. He pushed harder. Nothing. He put his fingers to eth man’s throat, his eyes widening. “There’s a pulse.”
“Pull him out of the water,” Taehyung demanded, dropping to the ground. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”
They both grabbed one arm and tugged, flipping the man to his back when he was fully out of the water.
He was… beautiful.
Despite the mud, the obvious trauma the man went through, he was still beautiful. His hair was dirty and soaked from the water. Mud, grass, and weeds, covered him head to toe, hiding the holes in his shirt and the rip in his pants. They set him gently on his back, Taehyung bending down to brush the brown hair off his forehead. Most men had scars whether it was from work or from battle. Unless you were royal, you had markings from your jobs. But this man didn’t. He had one small mark on his left cheek, and Taehyung wiped the mud away from it to see it closely. It was obviously accidental, not–
“Your highness, look.”
Jimin pulled at one of the holes in the man’s shirt on his chest, wiping the smooth skin to see it.
“King Deon’s mark.”
A ‘D’ was carved on the right side of his peck, the size of a dollar coin and was definitely healed by now. It must have been carved in years ago. Many defectors from the north have that mark, Taehyung was taught what it meant. It meant he worked in the castle for the King.
He was owned by the king. And he escaped.
“Let’s get him to Marcus,” Taehyung said, grabbing the man’s wrist to tug him up. Jimin moved immediately, grabbing the other side. “Help me get him on my horse.”
“You know I don't have to tell you that this is a bad idea,” Jimin warned.
“We can’t leave him to die.”
“He’s probably going to die anyway. Many defectors do when they cross the mountain pass, especially before the snow melts. He's hypothermic and-”
“Just move, Jimin. Let’s go.”
His best friend, fellow soldier, and long time courtier rolled his eyes. “Would you do this if he wasn’t so damn handsome?”
Taehyung ignored him and hurried them along.
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Marcus, the town’s apothecary, was a good and loyal servant to the monarchy. He often healed small wounds and provided medicine as the prince passed through. He was also handy with food and supplies, able to craft the paints his mother loved or new medicine or was skilled at breaking down any and every game in the area if Taehyung hunted for the village. He often did once or twice a year, enjoying the hunt and being able to provide to many of the farmers who lived off the land but didn’t have the ability to hunt through the mountains above them.
So when they arrived just after noon and Taehyung carried the weakened man into the small cottage, Marcus immediately got to work. He didn’t ask questions, even when the ‘D’ was shown as he cut away the man’s shirt.
He simply glanced up at the prince and Jimin before going back to work. His front was fine. A few bruises that were visible as he was cleaned but no scars other than the one on his cheek and the mark on his chest.
Then they flipped him over.
“Oh my God,” Jimin mumbled in shock.
His back was different. They didn’t see at the pond, but the pink tint to the shirt was definitely from blood and the lack of it still in the man’s body. On his back were lacerations. Hundreds of healed scars and plenty of new ones that were scabbing over and bubbling with infection. Taehyung stepped forward and Marcus got to work cleaning and applying oils. He leaned as close as he could, frowning.
Defectors often had scars, injuries, but nothing like this. Pain was usually distributed equally along the arms, the legs, the chest. Their Northern neighbors were not ones to spare the rod for even the smallest of offences. Yet this man appeared to only have taken it on his back, and it was extensive.
“This will help the infection,” Marcus had said, dropping yet another liquid on the man’s back. White bubble appeared and the man twitched in his unconscious state. “It’s very painful so I don’t usually use it if my patients are awake.”
Taehyung’s jaw tightened as he watched. Who could do that? Why would they do that? What did this man do in the north to enforce such a punishment?
“I do have concerns, your highness,” Marcus spoke as he worked. Taehyung straightened up, listening well as his father taught him. “We often see defectors from the north being the most northern town in the kingdom, but nothing like this. Most do not have the mark of the king, much less one so old. If they do have the mark, they’ve obviously tried to run away as soon as possible before the mark is even healed. This mark is old, very old. And some of these laceration scars could’ve happened years ago. This man… he was with King Deon for a long time. I’m afraid this might not be another defector.”
“You think he’s a spy?” Jimin queried.
“I don’t know, Lord Jimin. I just know that this is an unusual case. I heal many from the north after the perilous journey through the mountain pass, but none have looked like this. Plus, he has the piercings on his ears for jewelry.”
“That’s a concern?”
“One does not have the ability to wear jewelry if one does not have access to it. And only those in the highest of ranks in the north have access. He was not your normal civilian.”
“Will he survive?” Taehyung asked, ignoring Jimin’s concerned glance. “That’s all I need to know.”
“I’m not sure, Your Highness,” Marcus stated sadly. “He lost much blood, his temperature is low, and the infection is severe. I will treat as much as I can but–”
“I’ll cover all costs personally,” Taehyung interrupted. “Just get him well enough to move in three days.”
“Three days?” Jimin’s eyes dropped. “Prince Taehyung, we’re to be leaving by nightfall. The King requested–”
“We stay until this man is healed. He’s coming with us.”
“But–”
“You take my orders, Jimin. Remember that.”
Finally, Jimin shut his mouth, obviously upset but realizing he was teetering on a line in front of Taehyung’s subjects. He shouldn’t undermine the prince in front of the people.
“I’ll spend the time building a wagon that he can ride in,” Taehyung continued, turning towards the door to leave. “Jimin, stay here. I’ll get Madie’s brother and father's help be back in three days to collect you two to head south.”
Marcus nodded and Jimin sighed. “Yes, Your Highness.”
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Three days later, Taehyung returned from his time with Madie and Justin, a wagon now attached to his horse, Yeontan. It was covered in straw and sheep wool, warm and comfortable and Taehyung expected that weak or not, the man would be comfortable on his journey.
He tied Yeontan to the horse bench and walked into the apothecary.
Jimin stood immediately without a word.
“The wagon is ready. How is he?”
“Awake. But he won’t speak.”
Taehyung frowned, stepping around the hanging cloth that separated the table from the rest of the room and pulled it back.
He was met with shiny brown eyes that spoke volumes. Fear. Panic. Concern. But even worse, they were almost blank too. As if those things weren’t enough to really invoke a response.
“You’re awake.”
The man didn’t speak, only pushing himself up slowly to a sitting position, nodding once.
“What’s your name?”
Silence.
Taehyung eyed him in the quiet atmosphere. He was shirtless so he side stepped to view the man’s back. The wounds were no longer bubbling with medicine or infection. The redness was still present but more relaxed now. He was cleaned, and the pants he wore no longer had rips and tears in them. His shoes were one of Marcus’ old used pairs, but at least they weren’t soaking wet and falling apart.
“You’re a quiet one, I see,” he said as he stepped back to look at the man’s gaze. “You’re coming with us south to see the King of the Southern Lands. Maybe you’ll talk with him instead.”
The man’s eyes widened.
Jimin stepped up at attention. “Wait, Your–”
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with my courtier privately on our arrangements, stay here.”
He turned, motioning for Jimin to follow him outside. He yanked his friend away out of earshot before he said, “Don’t call me Prince or Your Highness in front of him. Understand?”
“I–”
“I know it’s not protocol, but I don’t want this man to know who I am. We take turns during night watches, and we constantly keep an eye on him as we head south. But he doesn’t need to know the king is my father, got it? I don’t need him to target me because of my title.”
Jimin swallowed and nodded. “What do you want me to call you?”
“V, for now, like when we were little. Tell Marcus the same until we depart. My identity is not to be known until I know his and we know why he defected.”
“Okay.”
He watched Jimin run off to the second apothecary building and made his way back to the mystery man.
“Open your mouth,” he stated softly but sternly. He tried to hold a position of authority although those doe eyes of fear also made him want to reassure this man that all would be fine now. “Please,” he added with an arch of his eyebrow.
The ‘please’ seemed to trigger some compliance, as the man did as instructed.
Taehyung leaned forward. “Well, the north didn’t cut out your tongue, so I can assume you’re not a mute. What is your name?”
The man shook his head again, mouth shutting quickly.
Taehyung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not going to hurt you. I simply want to know a name before we travel. Otherwise, I’ll send you back north so King Deon can tell me.”
It was a completely empty threat, but the panic in the man’s eyes meant Taehyung crossed a line. But he got what he wanted, because very weakly the man looked down and said, “Jungkook.”
“Jungkook,” he repeated, liking how it sounded on his tongue. “I’m V. And are you a spy for King Deon, Jungkook?”
He shook his head, his now clean and lighter brown hair bobbing as he did. And for some reason, Taehyung really believed him.
“Did King Deon send you here?”
Another shake of the head.
“Will you go with me willingly if I promise you shelter, food, and medicine?”
Jungkook paused, only briefly looking up before nodding in defeat once with his eyes back at his feet.
“Good. Then stand up. We need to get going.”