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Taehyung stood tall in the open meadow, a lonely figure before a small house from which a white smoke rose from the chimney. The little home was nestled in the vast expanse of swaying grass surrounded by green giants and the white peaks of the mountains in the back. The rosy light of the setting sun cast a soft glow over the scenery, highlighting the omega’s silhouette. Taehyung adjusted his veil. The silk crowned his head and draped over his shoulders. The soft fabric fluttered gently in the breeze. Its bold, crimson red hems resembled a halo circling protectively the omega.
“What brings you here, soldier?” Taehyung took a step forward, standing at the stairs leading to the small porch. He watched Jungkook walk towards him. His imposing figure was accentuated by the intricate armor he wore. The polished bronze plates gleamed, adorned with a screaming Gorgoneion—a Medusa’s head etched into the chest piece. Its serpentine locks curled outward while her mouth opened in a frightening snarl. The deep red cape draped over his shoulders fluttered gently in the breeze. The General’s face was stern. Wrinkles sprinkled around his sharp eyes. Streaks of silver at his temples softened his face, hinting at his frail human condition. Time spared no one, so it seemed, even the Gods’ favorite.
Jungkook stopped a few feet away, taking in the tableau vivant before him. The omega looked surreal. “I am here to introduce myself,” he said with practiced ease. He bowed his head politely. His hand rested on the handle of his sword, peacefully.
“Another suitor then,” Taehyung tilted his head, curious. Many came since his husband’s supposed death at sea. Many tried to force a courtship or a mating bite on his neck. Yet Taehyung stood tall and unwavering. His husband’s mark rested on his skin, undisturbed and everlasting.
“I am not a mere soldier,” Jungkook said eyeing the house more than Taehyung. The scenery felt familiar and brought peace to his tired mind. There surely laid the omega’s spell. The villagers, and the swarm of suitors, liked to talk about the omega’s supposed divine powers. “I am a General,” he corrected puffing his chest. In the village, there were wealthy merchants, honorable men, and famous figures, all fighting to woo the omega. Jungkook felt the urgent need to distinguish himself from the lot. Surely, the omega did not see a General yet, a man with legions under him.
“You will have to excuse my ignorance, General,” Taehyung descended one step. His smile was playful. His eyes sparkled. “I know nothing of military ranks. You see, my husband was a farmer and I am too. We know nothing of the military. We simply know each other and it is enough.”
“I was told that your husband died at sea,” Jungkook retorted, tactless. Yet, the omega did not flinch nor avert his gaze. His gleaming eyes remained void of the mist that grief brought on all souls.
“And you are here to replace him like all the other suitors in the village aim to,” Taehyung continued, unaffected. “What do you have more than them, General? I was offered castles and vast forests. One even offered me a boat,” he chuckled at the memory. “Offer a boat to a forest god, what nonsense. Don’t you think?”
“You are no god,” Jungkook took a step forward. Taehyung’s eyes widened with surprise. “I have seen those. At least, I believe I did. You are no god, omega.”
“And what am I?” Taehyung descended another step. The wind howled lifting up his veil, almost stealing it away. Taehyung quickly caught it. Jungkook took notice of the long elegant fingers.
“I am tempted to say a nymph, a spirit even,” Jungkook answered walking until he stood before Taehyung. Their eyes met and locked. With Taehyung standing on the second step, they were the same height. “But you are human, deeply so.”
“Am I now?” Taehyung laughed softly. The crystalline sound spread in the meadow. A few birds chirped and left their high branches.
“I would like to court you, omega. I have no pretention to replace your farmer husband. I am not one to fight a lost battle, and certainly not one where I would be unarmed and disadvantaged. Your late husband has something I shall never have and I will never covet.” As Jungkook talked, he climbed the last step, closing the distance between them. The wood creaked under his weight. Taehyung’s scent invaded his nose and mind. The sweet fragrance had the notes of home and freshly made sweets.
“Pray tell what does my husband have and you do not?” Taehyung asked climbing one step back. Jungkook’s scent had his heart skip a beat then launch into a maddening pace, akin to the wild horses in the plains.
“Absence,” Jungkook whispered, and quickly the word was taken away by the breeze. “He shines in your memories by his absence. He lives in your mind, golden and forever perfect while I am terribly human, therefore flawed. I shall not fight a ghost. I am a General who fights men and not an entity draped in hope and rendered perfect by grief.” Jungkook remained still, his eyes studying the omega's face, trying to decipher him.
Taehyung paused. The world swirled around him like the evening breeze. His gaze softened, and for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes dimmed. His lips parted, as if to say something, but the words eluded him. “It is a strange thing, grief,” Taehyung said quietly, "it can make something disappear and remain at the same time. It can preserve a memory as if it were a living thing, yet it never breathes or speaks. I am not a widow, General. I am simply waiting for the memory to come to life and give me back my husband. Some say I am a god, a nymph or even a spirit, but I will tell you a secret that no other suitor knows,” he leant towards Jungkook as if to share a forbidden confession. “I am simply a mad man living in a forest. Waiting.”
“You speak of absence," Taehyung continued, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "It is the very thing that sharpened its claws on my mind. It is a monster, huffing and puffing, and demanding tribute. It feasts on my memories and some days, I wake up forgetting important details like his favorite meal or the sound of his footsteps. It is in that space that I live, here, there, and nowhere, simply waiting.”
The wind shifted again, carrying with it the earthy scent of the meadow, mingling with Taehyung’s fragrance. Jungkook looked down at the omega, his gaze unwavering, and finally, the words he had held back slipped free from his lips. “I cannot fight a ghost but I can offer you something real—myself, and my affection. I offer no castle and no boat. I would like for your home to be mine as well, to live together in that maddening space. I will chase away the monster.”
“My husband built me this house,” Taehyung walked away taking a deep breath. As he turned a long lock of hair escaped its silky confinement and twirled with the breeze. It caressed Jungkook’s face. Unconsciously, the alpha leant in the stolen touch. “Does it not bother you to live in the space another man made for himself and his spouse?”
“No,” Jungkook followed after Taehyung, standing right behind him. He wished to reach and …devour. “It is a lovely house.”
“He built it according to my preferences. All I had to work on was the garden,” Taehyung reached towards the handle of the front door. The red entrance opened revealing the cozy inside. Jungkook breathed in. “I accept your courtship, General Jeon.”
And with that the door closed. The house engulfed the omega. Jungkook stared at the red door for a moment digesting the encounter and its result. When control came back to his limbs, he turned and ran to the village to share the news with his close friend.
---
“He left,” Jimin pulled the curtain back into place, the soft fabric swaying with the motion. His eyes lingered on Taehyung, who stood by the door, still shaking. Taehyung didn’t turn to face him at first, his gaze fixed on the floor. The wind outside seemed to whisper into his ears the long gone prayers he had uttered a lifetime ago.
Jimin stepped closer, his footsteps hesitant as he watched his friend. “Did he… say anything before he left?” He glanced towards the door, as if Jungkook might walk back through it at any moment.
Taehyung’s lips parted slightly, as though the memory itself was heavy on his tongue. He slowly shook his head, his long hair falling around his face. “He asked me for a courtship, Jimin.” he looked up, eyes full of pain, relief, and tears.
Jimin’s brow furrowed in confusion, and his voice quivered as he pressed further, “A courtship? So it is true then. He has forgotten everything.”
Taehyung nodded slowly, his eyes distant as he remembered the quiet request. “Yes,” he said, his voice laced with something that was hard to place—sadness, disappointment, relief. His mind, and heart, were in shambles. “He doesn’t remember us, Jimin. He doesn’t remember our life together, the bond we shared.” His gaze turned inward, as though he could still feel Jungkook's presence, despite the distance. He always could. “He doesn’t remember that we were once married.”
“He will remember,” Jimin said hoping to soothe the raging fire that he knew roared in Taehyung’s heart.
“And the other suitors?” Taehyung wiped his tears, “what of them? I don’t know how to get rid of them,” he added tiredly. If he knew, he would have cleaned the village out of them already. Yet they remained as stubborn as the mist during winter. Even the Head of the village grew impatient. All ate his food, trampled on his authority, and polluted the atmosphere.
“He will,” Jimin grinned, “If I know anything about Jungkook, it is that he is stubborn. He will get rid of them, and win you again.”
Taehyung nodded and quietly left to his bedroom to rest. It had been a long day, and the conversation with his husband drained him. He curled in bed. Jungkook carved it a long time ago from a gigantic trunk of an olive tree. The roots still ran into the soil, thriving and prospering. Jungkook had built the whole house around the bed actually.
Taehyung closed his eyes and pictured his husband next to him, smiling and reaching to caress his long hair. “I am home,” the illusion said, “won’t you welcome me properly, omega?”
_
Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you’re destined for.
But don’t hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you’re old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
[...]
you’ll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.
Ithaka. C. P. Cavafy