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It’s all over when Hoseok finds his sister crying.
He didn’t necessarily know what it meant when he saw the king’s ensignia leaving his town. Didn’t notice the letter sealed with blood left opened on his mother’s breakfast table. When he walked in the door, he saw his parents’ stunned faces and heard his sister crying upstairs.
There isn’t much to be done on the bride’s side in this case; the king calls, and she will go. Even if the bride trembles so much for days on end that she can’t stomach a single meal, can’t stop crying long enough to drink down any water. The king’s reputation precedes him, and she knows what waits for her at the palace walls.
The morning she is due to be carried away, Hoseok has long made up his mind. Her dress and its veil for the ceremony are packed away, but the arrival ensemble for her includes a long black lace piece to cover her face. A mourning veil, it looks like. Hoseok waits until his family slumbers, then dresses himself. It’s not the most comfortable thing he’s worn, but it hides his body in layers of delicate material that will shield him from the eye of the king or any of his court until it’s too late.
He hopes and prays that when his ruse is discovered that punishment is swift for him and that the king will feel the burn of embarrassment, enough to forego coming for his sister, but not so much that their punishment might be the same.
Hoseok does not expect to return when he leaves. He does not say goodbye to them, does not give a hint of farewell so they might stop him. They will not dare to come forward between then and the wedding; it would bring nothing good to anyone, and so Hoseok takes his sister’s place in the escort of the king, a veil drawn low over his face. It doesn’t matter. No one dares to look at him, not when he is to be the bride of the mad king.
The escort takes him through the palace grounds to a receiving courtyard. What receives him is the sight of severed heads, set up on spikes in a line. At the end of the procession sits the king, sprawled back in his throne. His signature icy blonde hair is tied up and away from his face. From a distance, in his veil, Hoseok can’t see the infamous scar on his face, but should he be close enough he wouldn’t hesitate to look. What does it matter when it will be one of the last things he sees?
Guards herd him forward to greet the king; Hoseok bows, staying there when the king stands to inspect him. Is his waist still tied tightly enough, Hoseok wonders? Does he look slight enough to pass?
Whatever the king sees, he must accept. He returns to sit on his throne and Hoseok is ushered away into the palace, to a room with an attendant who wants to help him undress. He sends her away; something he might not be able to get away with in any other palace, but here the rules do not stand when a man gifts his bride ten dead bodies of his enemy.
Hoseok comes prepared to die, if that is the price of sparring his sister a lifetime of cruelty. It doesn't mean he comes unprepared; he sleeps with his dagger in between his hands, a small and easily concealed weapon if no less deadly when well used. The only person who comes to check on him is the same attendant; she leaves him food and lotions, items to bathe with in preparation for the ceremony to be held in three days time. She doesn’t fight Hoseok’s makeshift lock on the door, instead opting to leave it all outside.
It feels strange that this is how a royal court is kept; he expected more eyes on him. He half expected to be found out and strung up in the courtyard before the wedding. Perhaps there are many guards stationed nearby, on lookout for the mad king’s bride to make a run for it. Is his family at home waiting to hear news?
Hoseok weds the cruel king Min Yoongi, dressed in all white. Up close, Yoongi’s scar is darker than he imagined. It is the thing of legend, the thing people in villages speak of mostly. They talk about his bloodlust and conquests, but of the man himself he surmounts to nothing but a scar. Throughout the ceremony, the king does nothing but openly sneer at his bride. Hoseok feels affected even under the veil.
When the moment comes to lift the veil, Hoseok trembles. He can’t look anywhere but down, can’t hope that the way he’s braided his hair away from his face will make him look any more feminine. The veil is lifted and a surprisingly gentle hand forces his chin up.
Hoseok looks Min Yoongi in the face. Technically now, his husband. Yoongi’s sneer returns, and without pausing in the ceremony, he leans in to kiss Hoseok’s stunned lips.
If Hoseok expected to be killed outright, he certainly doesn’t expect the king to leave his veil cast over his head and parade him by hand through the courtyard. Many are gathered to witness the event; many do not include his family, he is thankful to find. The bloodier decorations have been stripped to make way for summer wreaths, and it smells surprisingly sweet in the night.
People stutter over the word bride when they take in Hoseok; the king’s face dares them to say anything of it, and Hoseok finds himself cowering behind the man not just in fear of him but in fear of others too.
Perhaps he will wait to kill him in private, Hoseok thinks as Yoongi, his king and his husband for a night, drags him down the halls to his own private room. Here, the guards are numerous. There will be no privacy to his death after all.
Inside the room, Min Yoongi pushes him into the center and begins circling him, eyeing him up and down as if it is the first time he’s seen Hoseok, and it is. “What is your name?”
“Jung Hoseok.”
“They sent me the Jung boy,” Yoongi says to himself. Hoseok wants to assure the king that his family didn’t send anyone, but he elected to come in place of his sister of his own volition. “Why are you here?”
“To be your bride, your Majesty.”
The king laughs.
“What use do I have for a bride?” he asks. “No. You will serve me much better than the Jung daughter.”
Hoseok begins to shake.
“Strip off your clothes. They are not allowed in my bed.”
Hoseok expects to be left nude to be humiliated; he does not expect the king to also strip himself down and into bed with him. Yoongi lounges on his side and trapes his fingers down Hoseok’s frozen body. “You are far prettier than any bride I’ve seen.”
The king’s long hair unspools on Hoseok’s naked skin. He gasps when Yoongi licks at his throat. “You taste pretty too. Too pretty. Would rather you taste of salt.”
Hoseok doesn’t know what to do; he lies still, afraid to move. If he pushes the king away, he’s sure that will be it, but he’s terrified. His hands and tongue travel his body in unexpected ways; dare he say, it’s meant to be pleasurable, if Hoseok had the mind for it right then. He’s too frightened to breathe, to respond, to do or think anything.
The king looks up at his face and laughs. “You need not be frightened of this.”
Hoseok’s fingers twitch at his side. “I was received by once living ornaments to this place.”
Yoongi laughs, sounding genuinely delighted. He looks young like this, with little teeth and a lot of gum. “Had I known I was to receive you, I would have tripled the amount. A worthy conquest for a worthy bride.”
“Please do not jest.” Hoseok winces.
“I will give you many things, Jung Hoseok, but there is one I cannot give you.” This smile is not kind.
Love? Hoseok thinks. It is obvious to him, and obvious to the king, no doubt, but if the king gives him his life to live, then. Hoseok still has something.
His days in the palace continue, much to his shock. Hoseok is mostly left alone, especially in the innermost rooms. If he tries to step outside, there are so many guards that Hoseok can scarcely see around their bodies to look where he steps. It is most likely his husband’s way of curbing any interest of going outdoors. No one questions his place next to the king; no one questions his choice of a wife in a man.
His life is more than he dared to hope for, and now Hoseok doesn’t know what to do. No one asks anything of him - not even the king, although he never looks displeased to see Hoseok. In moments when Hoseok finds himself most bored or lonesome, he might follow Min Yoongi wherever the king goes. Sometimes they sit in the receiving hall, sometimes they sit out in a courtyard. There are many advisors who come to him for all sorts of things, and during bloodier talks Hoseok leaves his husband’s side, flanked by guards until he enters their chambers.
After a few weeks, when Hoseok is sure that it’s not a ruse to be kept alive, he writes to his family. It is his first true moment of happiness in the palace when he receives their correspondence back.
“The king must like you a lot if he allows you to send letters from here,” a brave guard tells him. Or perhaps, just a foolish one - this guard looks hardly of age, but what does a mad king care of age. “No one is allowed to send or receive letters here. It is meant to be a place of rumor to his enemies.”
Hoseok wants to scoff at the idea; just because people don’t know exactly where his palace is, does not mean it is a place of rumor. He was not allowed to look outside his carriage when traveling to the palace; he doesn’t know where he is just as much as the king’s enemies, but he feels as close to the king as outside forces.
He’s unsure what to think of his so-called husband, his so-called king. He had no choice in Min Yoongi being either, but he’s certainly surprised that the king allows him so much liberty to do as he wishes. Others in his court exist only in the ways in which he tells them to exist, but for Hoseok he allows him to sit nearby or exist on the other side of the walls. If people are brave enough to speak to Hoseok, and most are not, they tell him how extremely fortunate he is.
Hoseok thinks it isn’t only fear of the king that keeps people from speaking to him, but also that they’re still not sure what to think of Hoseok as a man masquerading as a queen. One day Hoseok wakes to a new wardrobe - he hadn’t brought much with him given his outlook on lasting to the ceremony - and he’s surprised to see that there are as many pieces for a woman as there are for a man. Or perhaps he should be surprised to find pieces at all for a man? He isn’t sure. He’s unsure because he can’t understand what the king wants from him, other than to look at him.
Min Yoongi loves to watch Hoseok, that much is clear. During the day, no matter what he’s meant to be doing - eating or holding court or watching a performance - his eyes remain fastened to Hoseok if he’s in the same location. Hoseok grows used to it quickly, especially when it becomes clear that the king isn’t watching for him to do anything in particular. Hoseok doesn’t mind wearing dresses originally made for his sister one day; doesn’t mind wearing something tailored for a man’s body the next day. He comes to prefer the long gowns, especially in the higher heat of the day, and he likes slipping them off his shoulders at night.
At night, the king’s eyes are different. They lack the sort of outside intensity that Hoseok comes to recognize exists only in the presence of others; when it is the two of them in their chambers, it shifts to something else. A lower ember of a fire that Hoseok can stoke when he wants. He is surprised at the lack of action on the king’s part given his obvious delight over his nude form; his immediate fears, other than death, were that Min Yoongi would force himself on Hoseok, but despite sharing a bed every night with almost nothing between them, the king doesn’t touch Hoseok again. He will look all he wants, often staring at him as Hoseok falls asleep, but when he wakes there is no one there and a blanket pulled over his body lest a guard were to enter and see him.
Hoseok wonders what other things he can learn about their king; it becomes almost a fun game at night to undress in front of him. He wears elaborate dresses for special occasions just so he can take his time unraveling each layer, and Min Yoongi looks just as grand lying nude in his bed as he does on his throne. He can tell the other man is affected; there is nowhere for him to hide the evidence, and nor would he. He strokes himself watching Hoseok one night, and when Hoseok has nothing left to unwrap, he lies down next to him and watches.
Yoongi smiles at him, somewhere in between his usual sneer and something more intimate, and doesn’t stop. Hoseok feels his skin burning where he lies, so close, and is more affected than he’s ever been. “Touch yourself,” Yoongi says. Hoseok can’t stop fidgeting on their bed. “I want to see you touch yourself.”
Hoseok doesn’t; he sucks in a breath and wills himself to be still. Yoongi growls at him, and he knows he is directly disobeying his husband and king. The thought makes him warmer, his blood simmering. He bites his lip and lets out a cry when the king snaps at him, lunging forward like a striking serpent.
Yoongi gathers up Hoseok’s wrists above his head and leans over him. Hoseok gasps and writhes under his weight. It is the first time they’ve touched in many days, and more than one moon. “Do you know what you ask for?” The leer is back on his face, but to Hoseok it becomes something almost precious and kind.
The king touches him. Hoseok does not touch the king.
In days and nights following, it is much the same. The king doesn’t always wait as long to touch him, touches Hoseok in the courtyard in front of his men. Draws Hoseok into his lap and forces him to sit there as long as he pleases with a rough hand over Hoseok’s thigh. He offers Hoseok pleasures that he does not partake in, both of intimate nature or simple gifts such as food, things that he doesn’t expect returned to him.
Dare he say, Hoseok finds himself spoiled.
It’s a game they place, and he knows it. He has something the king wants, but for whatever reason Hoseok cannot surmise, he doesn’t immediately take it. Hoseok grows tired of waiting - it feels like some sort of weight around his neck that he must shed for better or worse - so he pushes the king. He wears things meant for women to entice their men, he wears things that are partially transparent outside of their rooms in front of servants.
It isn’t until Hoseok dresses in a traditional fan dancer’s uniform and performs for his husband the king that Yoongi finally snaps. For as long as Hoseok dances in front of their entire audience for the summer festival, the king has to watch and do nothing. A king is not used to doing nothing when he wants, and Hoseok can feel the change sparking in the air as he twirls in the middle of the courtyard with his fan, his long hair left down for this.
He doesn’t wait for the celebrations to be over; the king follows Hoseok through the halls to their room and for the first time ever, undresses Hoseok himself. He springs onto Hoseok as soon as they can pass the door; wrapping some of Hoseok’s hair up in one hand and the other dragging him forward to kiss for the first time since their wedding day.
He is not patient that night; in some ways, he is the husband Hoseok feared him to be on their first night together, but now Hoseok laughs because he wants it. He likes the rough push that Yoongi gives him, likes being completely naked in front of the other man while he wears his celebratory garb. The touching starts out familiar but moves into new territory finally when they climb together in bed and Yoongi takes him much the same way he might a wife. Hoseok isn’t surprised to find it hurts as much as it gives pleasure, but he has waited so long that he can’t imagine it any better.
Hoseok glows. He is the king’s.
He crawls forward on all fours like an animal to put his head in the king’s lap while he plans warfare. He crawls forward on all fours to sink his teeth into his neck at dinner in front of Yoongi’s favorite advisor. No one dares watch when the king takes him by his chin and spit wine into his mouth. Hoseok grins; he can give this man exactly what he needed in a wife.
He grows comfortable. Perhaps, too comfortable. It is one thing to hear of men dying in some far off place in the name of their kingdom, and another to witness it on their doorstep in his own name. A man touches not Hoseok, but the train of a dress he wears one day, and the mad king has his hands taken off for it. Hoseok watches it happen before a dinner, unaware and unsuspecting, with Yoongi’s surprisingly gentle touch in his hair.
A separate incident in which Yoongi claims a man looked too long at Hoseok’s visage and the king himself takes from this man’s face his eyes, the man’s wailing screams echoing even in open air. Once he is finished upheaving his stomach, Hoseok realizes that Yoongi has done so with his own dagger, brought into this place by Hoseok himself and long since abandoned as he no longer has worries of being harmed.
Now he worries who might be harmed in his name.
“Didn’t I tell you there was one thing I could never give you?” Yoongi says smiling, one finger on the edge of the bloody dagger later that evening. Hoseok cries, cries for him not to kill anyone more in their court.
He trembles when Yoongi touches him at all for a while. Yoongi doesn’t force him, leaves him be when he shakes away from him. Hoseok longs to stay close to him but can’t stomach the thought of having to watch someone else be hurt because of Yoongi’s perceived jealousy. He simultaneously has to watch his husband at all times, but is afraid to.
Their secret kingdom is secret no more less than two years after Hoseok comes to it; invaders from the west infiltrate, climbing the walls in the middle of the night and killing most of the night guard before the alarm can be raised. When Hoseok wakes to the sound of a gong, he doesn’t know what it means at first, but Yoongi is out of the bed before he can ask anything.
With robes barely secured, Yoongi takes Hoseok by hand and drags him through the halls to the center most room. He puts Hoseok up on the throne, a place Hoseok has never been other than by its feet, and Yoongi turns to protect him with sword in hand. When his enemies reach them, Yoongi is far outnumbered, even with the handful of guards from outside their chambers and another handful that found them inside the room to join them. Hoseok stays curled up in the throne, unarmed and unsure of what he can do but watch as bodies are cut apart. Yoongi is easy to follow with his long pale blonde hair - he cleanly severs a foot from a leg and continues the same swing of the sword up into another man’s jugular.
Hoseok flinches, cries out only when someone grabs a fist full of his hair and drags him down the steps in front of the throne. “Min Yoongi!” the man bellows, waiting until he has the attention of the king before Hoseok can feel his other arm with the sword rise. Yoongi whips his head around towards him, making eye contact with Hoseok. Through his tears, he thinks he sees fear there for the first time ever. Hoseok would have felt powerful to make this man feel fear once, but he’s too frozen in every other emotion to think about anything other than the pain he’s about to feel.
Yoongi throws his sword. Hoseok doesn’t actually see it happen, just knows that it did, and that the man releases his hold on him. Hoseok falls to the ground for less than a moment before different arms jerk him up. Yoongi pushes him behind his back this time and reaches for his sword out of the man’s chest. It is already a fatal wound, but Yoongi takes up the man’s head by his hair just as he had Hoseok’s and neatly and quickly severs it.
It is the head that remains closest to the throne after the siege is over. Yoongi has all the bodies of the enemies drawn inside the throne room, then he goes down the line and takes off every head. Every single one is mounted up in the room, and Hoseok is forced to stay and watch while in the throne.
“I told you I would have had more trophies for your arrival had I known,” Yoongi says to him, his skin and hair red.
Hoseok trembles; this is what he thought of when he thought of the mad king, before he met Min Yoongi. This is what he expected.
It’s then that he knows Min Yoongi didn’t mean love when he told him there was one thing he could not give Hoseok. Min Yoongi loves Hoseok as much as he loves violence and war, as much as he could ever love another person.
Peace is what Min Yoongi can never give him.