[exo] Defying Fate
Title: Defying Fate
Author: sanzoo
Genre: angst, romance
Pairing: Kyungsoo/Jongin, Kyungsoo/Chanyeol
Rating: PG
Word count: 4,600~ ws
Summary: I honestly think that life for me is just collection of events at unfortunate times, but I am thankful to have met Kim Jongin.
Prompt: 5. “There’s always something to look at if you open your eyes.” - Doctor Who
entry for galaexo challenge one
Eyes are the windows to one’s soul, or so I have read. The eyes I usually come across are filled with heavy responsibilities and nights filled with worry; a soul trapped in agony. His eyes, however, are a beautiful contrast filled with so much life. It is like looking into an endless possibility; I am slowly drowning at the idea of this.
They are the color of cognac when he looks up and the sun catches them. He looks like an angel when he smiles, but I know little about angels to truly compare him to one. I had read that angels are divine beings, untouched beauty and this boy standing beside me seems to possess these traits.
I shake my head. I sound silly.
His hand is warm as he pulls my arm forward, pushing us through a sea of people. I pull up my hood, hiding my face that blushes a little too easily. My heart is thumping at such a ridiculous pace and everything is just exciting; walking outside the compounds of the palace with a young boy who finds joy in everything that he does.
The boy abruptly stops in front of a guard of the palace and I gasp, hiding my face as I look at the ground. The guard asks if he has seen the prince around the market; apparently he’s gone missing again and his instructor has travelled from a far place to teach him archery. The boy shakes his head with ease and promises to inform the guards if he sees the prince, bowing and walking away, hand still gripping my arm. I heave a sigh of relief.
“We must go back. I’m sorry. It seems I have troubled you,” I apologize, embarrassed to have wasted the boy’s precious time. He waves his hand and assures me it is nothing, he has gotten what he needs anyway.
“But we’re returning to the palace empty handed,” I point out as we turn around, slowly making our way back to the tall, stone walls that holds the heads of our kingdom.
“We aren’t, as I have made you smile and by that you have made my day, Your Highness.”
[+]
The boy refuses to tell me his name. He is giving too many excuses as to why he mustn’t tell me as I follow him towards the garden. He finds it of no importance as to why I need to know it anyway. Little does he know that I have come around to calling him Angel in my head and I am displeased at how this makes me feel shy. I cannot tell him this as I must still preserve my image in front of my subjects.
He is staring at the plants in the garden with a frown on his face, clearly frustrated at the task at hand. I am not sure what the task is, but I am assuming it has something to do with dinner; the boy does often work in the kitchen helping around with everything but cooking.
“I don’t understand why he must put so many types of leaves in the cooking! Tell me, does a bay leaf really make a difference in a dish? I don’t even know the difference between bay leaf and basil and he gives me this task!” the boy vents out his annoyance, huffing as he bends around to search for a label of some sort to help him identify the leaves.
I keep my comment to myself as I watch him from the shade under a big tree. He had forbidden me to follow him as he worked, saying a prince mustn’t be seen with a mere commoner. I scolded him for saying that but he merely shrugged, saying it’s the truth. He is extremely lacking in manners, this young boy, but maybe this is why I am slowly finding myself attracted to him. He is different from the other servants who look away at the sight of the royal family they serve, out of respect or fear, I am not sure.
I sigh as I see him walking back towards me, a smile as blinding as the sun above us. He has some dirt on his cheek, as if he had forgotten his hands were dirty and decided to touch his face. I shake my head at the cuteness. He is lacking in common sense too.
“It is considered as treason to not follow his royal highness’ command, but I am sure you know this,” I start to say as I offer him my napkin. He takes it after a moment of hesitation. “I have asked you more than twice for your name,” I continue and wait for him to wipe his face with my napkin but instead he folds it neatly, pocketing it. I raise an eyebrow at his action, before laughing.
“Why did you not wipe your face with it?” I ask, just tickled by this boy’s action.
“Because, your highness, it is not every day that this commoner receives something from a member of the royal family. I assume I must offer you my name now, in return for your gift,” the boy simply answers and I think, a napkin is a poor excuse for a gift but I keep this to myself as I see the boy lean closer to whisper into my ear.
“My name is Kim Jongin.”
[+]
I never look forward to the affair of dinner. It reminds me too much of what is held over my shoulders; the burden of my people, this kingdom. My father, the king, is well past his prime age and as I look over flickering candle lights to see the deep wrinkles on his face, I am reminded time and time again that this is not the life that I had wished for.
We sadly, however, cannot change the fate that has been bestowed upon us.
My mother, the queen, caters for the welfare of this castle and its many servants. She is even more pitiful than my father, in my humble opinion. She only sees her husband during dinnertime and is not allowed to see him any other time; for fear of inconvenience as the king governs the kingdom. On days when father has too much work, sadly a familiar scenario these days, he will sleep at the room of his concubine of choice, leaving my mother alone. I had once voiced my resentment over this and was struck on the face by mother herself, reprimanding me and my wrongful way of thinking. She had tears in her eyes as she did it, and I blinked mine away.
That was the last time I’ve spoken over dinner unprompted.
“Is there something wrong with the food, crown prince?” mother ask from across the table and I try not to flinch at the way she addresses me. Twenty years later and mother is still calling me by title. This hurts me to no end; how we are seated in the same room yet are separated so far away. I do not hate her, it is not her fault. I merely hate the distance and longing.
“It is nothing, your majesty,” I answer with a soft smile on my face, looking down at my food that has gone cold untouched. I poke through the pieces of chicken and find myself a bay leaf and instantly smile.
At least Kim Jongin had chosen the correct leaf.
[+]
I believe human emotions and interactions are the most difficult to grasp. Even after reading numerous books in a variety of language, I have yet to truly understand the meaning of friendship, of lingering hope that makes one smile. I do not understand love, unless we are talking about the feelings that drive my father into deep worry over the country or my mother into a fretting mess of tears at night.
“You know the feelings you feel for me? That’s love,” Jongin had said two full moons after our first encounter, eyes on the floor as he swept the kitchen. I would have blushed at his bluntness if I wasn’t being too stunned at his statement, gaping at him.
“If I love you I guess we must be more than friends,” I had said back a little too cheekily, this new side I had acquired after spending much time with Jongin. He had laughed, seeing right pass my fake bravado.
“Since I haven’t beheaded you for your lack of respect to the future king of your kingdom, this must mean something, am I right?”
Jongin placed the broom by the side of the kitchen before walking over to where I sit, bending down so that he is face to face with me, and said “I love you too, your highness.”
He had childishly ran away, his youthful face beaming in delight before I could hit him.
I do not dare to admit, but when he has said those words, while staring into my eyes, I felt… my heart skipped a beat. This is embarrassing to admit, even to myself, but I might have slowly fallen for him. He has wit and charm and I cannot lie that on days where I do not meet him, I feel sadly alone. He is the only one in the palace who truly treats me like an ordinary boy, playfully teasing me and showing me things I’ve never experienced. He showed me little things, like how to know when a hen is about to lay her egg to how to know when one of the young female servants had secret admirations for us. Petty, irrelevant things for a crown prince, he had said as he told me these things. He had taught me how to appreciate the things I usually would look away without a blink of an eye.
He had also taught me about love and happiness.
“Call me Do Kyungsoo,” I said, my voice barely a whisper but I knew he heard it for he turned around, brows knit together into a scowl on his face.
“I know I am unmannered at best but your highness-“
“People who love me should call me by my name, do you not agree?”
I knew he had an argument to put up against the idea but thought better of it, biting down on his lower lip as he looked at me. I do not like how his eyes seemed sad, as if he pities me. I do not need pity; I am a prince.
I leave out the part of how I was feeling of utmost loneliness before he came into my life; smile on his face and a bold hand outstretched towards me as he asked if I wanted to follow him to town that day.
“It’s just that, if I call you by your name you cannot threaten to behead me anymore and we all know how much you like to remind us of your power- hey!”
He was close enough for me to hit on the head this time around.
[+]
As crown prince to the kingdom of Effan, I have never felt this inadequate in my life. My people are suffering for various reasons, be it from the cold winter that is approaching soon to the steady call of war. My people seem to not be able to win either way, and as I sit in front of the fireplace in the study room of the palace, flipping through notes on previous strategies by war generals I feel myself breaking apart. Our resources are limited, our soldiers dying more and more each day and father is suggesting our young men to head to the battlefield, untrained and moderately armed.
How can I, in my conscious state, send men who some are even younger than me, to war? These men are sons, brothers, precious manpower that I cannot bare to see die tragically in the hands of our enemy.
Some of these men are precious friends that once lost, cannot be compensated.
“War is an unnecessary evil,” I say aloud and hear the flipping of pages stop momentarily, before it starts again at a slower pace.
“It’s sad how your highness has little faith in his people,” Jongin simply answers.
I stand up to walk over to the figure hunched over a book at the bookshelf. He ignores my presence as I stand beside him but stops my hand that had tried to beat him. He instead takes the hand and places it on his cheek. My hand is warmer than his face and I can tell from the look in his eyes that he, too, is scared.
“I don’t want to say goodbye to you,” I say.
Jongin smiles. It is sweet and makes my heart flutter. “Good, because I don’t want to either.”
He did not push me away when I leaned in, and his lips were slightly parted, as if they have been waiting for me. I do not tell him that this is the first kiss I have ever experienced and he does not tell me how red my face is, a state he finds too cute to not tease on.
“I will wait for you.”
This is all I can promise. As crown prince, waiting for his loyal subject; as Do Kyungsoo waiting for a person he truly cherishes. He kisses me again and wishes me a good day before leaving, smile on his face as he closes the door.
Only then did I let myself break. Only then did I cry, painful realization that my first kiss with him might also be the last.
[+]
A few weeks has passed since father announced that all able men with no important task in the palace were to help on the battlefield. It has been too long since I last smiled sincerely, since I talked to mother or father. I skip dinner with them on most days, giving excuse of fatigue and headaches. Father seems to not mind but mother has come to realize something is wrong after I go missing for a week straight during dinner.
She confronts me one night as I tuck myself to bed. It is unlike her to come to me, normally I would be summoned if needed. I am a little scared of what news she will be delivering to me.
“Are you well, your majesty?” I ask but she waves her hand at me as a sign to push the formalities aside; it will be a discussion between a mother and her son.
“How are you, my boy?” I hear the concern as clear as day and my heart breaks at it; I did not mean to make her worry. I smile as wide as I can and nod, making her smile in return at me.
“Honey, I have something important to say.”
Mother only calls me honey when she is delivering the worst of news. She had used it when I was ten, to tell me my favorite caretaker had passed away. There was also that time when she told me to pack my stuff as father had decided to send me away for a few years to learn from the western people. I look at her with worried eyes, waiting in dread for her to continue.
“We are losing the war against the kingdom of Mavia. Our soldiers cannot go against the advanced weapons of the opposing kingdom. However, the kingdom of Hariff has offered to merge kingdoms with us. We will become a kingdom with more power due to this merge and Mavia will have no choice to retreat. This is the only best option left for our people.”
“This is great news, mother!” I say but I am not a child, I have come to know her worried look even in dim lighting.
“A marriage will be held in support for this merge. Our crown prince will marry the king of Hariff, a week from now.”
She has tears in her eyes as she says this. She knows; the pain she is putting me through as she says these words. I look down to avoid looking at her; it’s too hard to hold back the tears when she is crying in front of me. She pulls me in for a hug and I slowly sob against her, my defenses breaking as she embraces me after so long. She understands the most the implications of her words, because she, too, was married to my father due to a merge. Trapped in these tall stone walls, confined in a loveless marriage.
“I am so sorry, my son,” she whispers as my sobs become uncontrollable.
It is not her fault; we do not choose the life we must live.
“You must not cry, it will look like you are against this marriage,” I say with the little resolution I have left. She kisses me on my forehead and tells me to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.
[+]
It has been five months since I last saw Kim Jongin. Four months since I have become a married man. Three month since I last smiled at the king of Hariff. Two months since he smiled at me. A month since we stopped trying.
Father had saved our kingdom. By agreeing to merge kingdoms, Mavia felt threaten and had retreated, just as planned. We had welcomed back the people involved in the tragic war. The injured were treated and for those who had lost their life were buried and a funeral was held for them.
Jongin was neither. I had checked with the healers and with the high priest in charge of the funeral. Jongin has not returned. Maybe this is for the best, I had thought back then, I would not know how to welcome him back anyway. I had promised to wait and instead I have gotten myself married. How shameful of me, to go back against our promise when I had always been the one pointing out his lack of manners.
Truthfully, there has not been a day where I do not miss him. However I must not think of this, the king of Hariff is talking to me right now.
“I’m sorry your majesty, I was not paying attention. Can you repeat what you have said?”
I was prepared for a scolding, not for the king to pinch my nose and tell me I am stubborn.
“Ask me again, but address me by my name,” the king orders and I look at my hands, nervously entwining my fingers.
“I’m sorry, Chanyeol. I was not paying attention. Can you repeat what you have said?”
I did not have to look up to see his wide smile, or his hand that has gone to pat my head. He finds my being adorable while I find him… too nice. He makes me feel horrid about my lack of love for him, and I try smiling at him because I should at least meet him halfway out of courtesy. He is my husband, after all.
“I only reminded you to look at your dresser tonight before you go to bed. Sleep well.”
It has been our way of wishing each other good night for this past month. He will walk me to my bedroom before walking away to his. We had stopped trying to sleep on the same bed after he had found out I was not sleeping well. I insisted that we did not have to do that; what would the servants think of this? But he had taken my hands in his and told me that my opinions mattered first before others.
I entered the room and walked straight to the dresser for fear I would forget if I delayed it. There, on the dresser was a stem of a red rose along with a piece of paper underneath it. I picked up the note first.
You are the prettiest when you smile!
I hope I will be worthy of it one day.
-Chanyeol
I sniffed the sweet scent of the rose and got ready for bed, smiling at the act of the king. I will use this to tease him tomorrow.
[+]
The king does not like certain types of fishes and as I made my way to the kitchen to remind the chef, I am brought back to the many memories I had spent down here. This place holds a special place in my heart, and as I push the door open I cannot hide the smile on my face as I feel a wave of nostalgia.
I must be seeing things as the one who greets me in the kitchen looks too much like Jongin. Hair a little longer, but still that same smile and exaggerated bow as I step in.
“Your majesty, is there anything I can get you?”
My heart beats a little faster at this man’s voice. It is the same as Jongin’s, and I cannot look at him as I tell him the purpose of my visit to the kitchen.
“Thank you for reminding me, your majesty,” he says and as he bows to excuse himself I cannot help but to see similarities. The youthful attitude, his ever-present smile. I want to ask if he knows Kim Jongin, because that man would not just let me leave the kitchen without stopping me. That man would boldly demand for a kiss as he has safely returned, and he would ask me if I have missed him. That man would not just turn around to go back to cooking the king’s lunch.
That man would have stopped me as he saw the tears stream down my cheeks.
[+]
I spend most of my time these days in the garden, near the rose bushes. It had entertained me, when my servants could not find me in the palace and panicked. It is usually the guard assigned to follow me everywhere that stops the frantic servants just in time before they alarm the king.
I come here to read. The topic varies; from literature to science and in between that, language. I only spend the first hour reading, though. Because when the sun has gone down a little and it’s less hot, the gardener comes out. I watch him from behind my book, subtly catching him smiling at random plants as he tends to them. He seems so passionate in his work that I have come to admire it behind my book.
The gardener is the same man from the kitchen the other day.
Today, however, I have a different task at hand. I have decided to reply the rose that king Chanyeol has left for me a few nights ago. I hunch over, searching for the perfect rose. As I found one a few moments later, I forgot they had thorns and had cut myself trying to pluck a stem. I gasp at the pain and I hear someone running over, surprised that it is the gardener.
“Always so silly about petty things, this king of mine,” the gardener says as he takes out a napkin that looks horribly familiar. As he wrapped it around my cut I could see that it is indeed the napkin that I had once given Jongin, and I instantly pull my hand away.
“How dare you, Jongin. How dare you act like this, not even meeting me again once you have returned? I worried for you!” I could not control my rage as I saw the man I have missed for almost half a year.
“Your majesty, you are now married. I am happy for you,” he simply says before bowing to leave.
I look at his retreating figure, hearing the unspoken words loud and clear. Things cannot go back as they were and it is all because of me.
[+]
The next time I spoke to Kim Jongin was when king Chanyeol had just left to meet his royal advisors. He had approached me with such a sad expression on his face and as I let him into my room, I bit my lip with worry.
“I must leave you. I must leave the palace,” is what Jongin says after pacing around and I look at the floor, no fight in me. My whole being wants nothing more but to stop him but my rationality knows better; I have a responsibility to the people of my kingdom.
“I will leave as soon as I pack my things. I just… wanted to bid you farewell one last time, Do Kyungsoo.”
Maybe it is the sudden separation, or my longing that has not been satisfied yet that had made me act in this way. Nevertheless as I pulled Jongin near me, felt his hand curl around my waist, his soft lips kissing my forehead, I feel nothing but bliss. I feel whole, as if a missing part of me has finally been found.
At the same time the door opens, and I come face to face with the king.
[+]
The king does not speak to me for days. He does not even spare a glance towards me. He is badly hurt by my actions, and I do not blame him. I deserve punishment, but sadly the one held captive is Jongin. He has been locked up in the palace’s prison right after the king found us in my room. I tried explaining to him that nothing happened, but he refuses to even listen.
I do not blame his cold attitude towards me. I just want Jongin to be released.
“You want me to release him? Fine, but I want you to be the one who makes sure he never comes back again. I want you to break his heart,” Chanyeol says after he finally listens to what I have to say. I accept his orders with gracefulness; at least Jongin has not received worse punishment, like death.
“If he comes back, I will kill him in front of you, Kyungsoo. He will be dead but you will still be stuck in this marriage, with someone you do not love.”
[+]
I had gone down to the dungeon, where the prison is located. I had told the guard of the order given by the king and the guard bowed, before proceeding to release Jongin. He seemed too weak as he walked out, head bent low. I felt a deep sense of remorse as he looked up to me and was able to still smile despite everything I have done to him.
“Your majesty, what are you-“
“Please leave now and never come back. Live well, meet new people, and fall in love. Marry someone who will make you smile and miss you when you are gone for even a minute.”
“I don’t understand-“
“Do not show your face here ever again. If we meet in the future we will simply nod in acknowledgement and then walk away. I will forget you from now onwards, Kim Jongin.”
I see his eyes water and it breaks me momentarily but I overcome my want to walk over to him. That want was what caused us to be in this situation in the first place.
“Never show yourself in front of me or his majesty, Kim Jongin,” I say with finality and turn around, covering my mouth with my hand as I softly sob into it. I do not hate my destiny, or my fate to spend the remaining days of my life in this palace with a king who might never open up to me ever again.
After all, one cannot change the fate that has been bestowed upon them.
[+]
will write a/n later after sleep lmao i have been up for a day because i wanted to finish this and don't worry there will be a/n for this fic because it ruined my life.
tada!
Author: sanzoo
Genre: angst, romance
Pairing: Kyungsoo/Jongin, Kyungsoo/Chanyeol
Rating: PG
Word count: 4,600~ ws
Summary: I honestly think that life for me is just collection of events at unfortunate times, but I am thankful to have met Kim Jongin.
Prompt: 5. “There’s always something to look at if you open your eyes.” - Doctor Who
entry for galaexo challenge one
Eyes are the windows to one’s soul, or so I have read. The eyes I usually come across are filled with heavy responsibilities and nights filled with worry; a soul trapped in agony. His eyes, however, are a beautiful contrast filled with so much life. It is like looking into an endless possibility; I am slowly drowning at the idea of this.
They are the color of cognac when he looks up and the sun catches them. He looks like an angel when he smiles, but I know little about angels to truly compare him to one. I had read that angels are divine beings, untouched beauty and this boy standing beside me seems to possess these traits.
I shake my head. I sound silly.
His hand is warm as he pulls my arm forward, pushing us through a sea of people. I pull up my hood, hiding my face that blushes a little too easily. My heart is thumping at such a ridiculous pace and everything is just exciting; walking outside the compounds of the palace with a young boy who finds joy in everything that he does.
The boy abruptly stops in front of a guard of the palace and I gasp, hiding my face as I look at the ground. The guard asks if he has seen the prince around the market; apparently he’s gone missing again and his instructor has travelled from a far place to teach him archery. The boy shakes his head with ease and promises to inform the guards if he sees the prince, bowing and walking away, hand still gripping my arm. I heave a sigh of relief.
“We must go back. I’m sorry. It seems I have troubled you,” I apologize, embarrassed to have wasted the boy’s precious time. He waves his hand and assures me it is nothing, he has gotten what he needs anyway.
“But we’re returning to the palace empty handed,” I point out as we turn around, slowly making our way back to the tall, stone walls that holds the heads of our kingdom.
“We aren’t, as I have made you smile and by that you have made my day, Your Highness.”
[+]
The boy refuses to tell me his name. He is giving too many excuses as to why he mustn’t tell me as I follow him towards the garden. He finds it of no importance as to why I need to know it anyway. Little does he know that I have come around to calling him Angel in my head and I am displeased at how this makes me feel shy. I cannot tell him this as I must still preserve my image in front of my subjects.
He is staring at the plants in the garden with a frown on his face, clearly frustrated at the task at hand. I am not sure what the task is, but I am assuming it has something to do with dinner; the boy does often work in the kitchen helping around with everything but cooking.
“I don’t understand why he must put so many types of leaves in the cooking! Tell me, does a bay leaf really make a difference in a dish? I don’t even know the difference between bay leaf and basil and he gives me this task!” the boy vents out his annoyance, huffing as he bends around to search for a label of some sort to help him identify the leaves.
I keep my comment to myself as I watch him from the shade under a big tree. He had forbidden me to follow him as he worked, saying a prince mustn’t be seen with a mere commoner. I scolded him for saying that but he merely shrugged, saying it’s the truth. He is extremely lacking in manners, this young boy, but maybe this is why I am slowly finding myself attracted to him. He is different from the other servants who look away at the sight of the royal family they serve, out of respect or fear, I am not sure.
I sigh as I see him walking back towards me, a smile as blinding as the sun above us. He has some dirt on his cheek, as if he had forgotten his hands were dirty and decided to touch his face. I shake my head at the cuteness. He is lacking in common sense too.
“It is considered as treason to not follow his royal highness’ command, but I am sure you know this,” I start to say as I offer him my napkin. He takes it after a moment of hesitation. “I have asked you more than twice for your name,” I continue and wait for him to wipe his face with my napkin but instead he folds it neatly, pocketing it. I raise an eyebrow at his action, before laughing.
“Why did you not wipe your face with it?” I ask, just tickled by this boy’s action.
“Because, your highness, it is not every day that this commoner receives something from a member of the royal family. I assume I must offer you my name now, in return for your gift,” the boy simply answers and I think, a napkin is a poor excuse for a gift but I keep this to myself as I see the boy lean closer to whisper into my ear.
“My name is Kim Jongin.”
[+]
I never look forward to the affair of dinner. It reminds me too much of what is held over my shoulders; the burden of my people, this kingdom. My father, the king, is well past his prime age and as I look over flickering candle lights to see the deep wrinkles on his face, I am reminded time and time again that this is not the life that I had wished for.
We sadly, however, cannot change the fate that has been bestowed upon us.
My mother, the queen, caters for the welfare of this castle and its many servants. She is even more pitiful than my father, in my humble opinion. She only sees her husband during dinnertime and is not allowed to see him any other time; for fear of inconvenience as the king governs the kingdom. On days when father has too much work, sadly a familiar scenario these days, he will sleep at the room of his concubine of choice, leaving my mother alone. I had once voiced my resentment over this and was struck on the face by mother herself, reprimanding me and my wrongful way of thinking. She had tears in her eyes as she did it, and I blinked mine away.
That was the last time I’ve spoken over dinner unprompted.
“Is there something wrong with the food, crown prince?” mother ask from across the table and I try not to flinch at the way she addresses me. Twenty years later and mother is still calling me by title. This hurts me to no end; how we are seated in the same room yet are separated so far away. I do not hate her, it is not her fault. I merely hate the distance and longing.
“It is nothing, your majesty,” I answer with a soft smile on my face, looking down at my food that has gone cold untouched. I poke through the pieces of chicken and find myself a bay leaf and instantly smile.
At least Kim Jongin had chosen the correct leaf.
[+]
I believe human emotions and interactions are the most difficult to grasp. Even after reading numerous books in a variety of language, I have yet to truly understand the meaning of friendship, of lingering hope that makes one smile. I do not understand love, unless we are talking about the feelings that drive my father into deep worry over the country or my mother into a fretting mess of tears at night.
“You know the feelings you feel for me? That’s love,” Jongin had said two full moons after our first encounter, eyes on the floor as he swept the kitchen. I would have blushed at his bluntness if I wasn’t being too stunned at his statement, gaping at him.
“If I love you I guess we must be more than friends,” I had said back a little too cheekily, this new side I had acquired after spending much time with Jongin. He had laughed, seeing right pass my fake bravado.
“Since I haven’t beheaded you for your lack of respect to the future king of your kingdom, this must mean something, am I right?”
Jongin placed the broom by the side of the kitchen before walking over to where I sit, bending down so that he is face to face with me, and said “I love you too, your highness.”
He had childishly ran away, his youthful face beaming in delight before I could hit him.
I do not dare to admit, but when he has said those words, while staring into my eyes, I felt… my heart skipped a beat. This is embarrassing to admit, even to myself, but I might have slowly fallen for him. He has wit and charm and I cannot lie that on days where I do not meet him, I feel sadly alone. He is the only one in the palace who truly treats me like an ordinary boy, playfully teasing me and showing me things I’ve never experienced. He showed me little things, like how to know when a hen is about to lay her egg to how to know when one of the young female servants had secret admirations for us. Petty, irrelevant things for a crown prince, he had said as he told me these things. He had taught me how to appreciate the things I usually would look away without a blink of an eye.
He had also taught me about love and happiness.
“Call me Do Kyungsoo,” I said, my voice barely a whisper but I knew he heard it for he turned around, brows knit together into a scowl on his face.
“I know I am unmannered at best but your highness-“
“People who love me should call me by my name, do you not agree?”
I knew he had an argument to put up against the idea but thought better of it, biting down on his lower lip as he looked at me. I do not like how his eyes seemed sad, as if he pities me. I do not need pity; I am a prince.
I leave out the part of how I was feeling of utmost loneliness before he came into my life; smile on his face and a bold hand outstretched towards me as he asked if I wanted to follow him to town that day.
“It’s just that, if I call you by your name you cannot threaten to behead me anymore and we all know how much you like to remind us of your power- hey!”
He was close enough for me to hit on the head this time around.
[+]
As crown prince to the kingdom of Effan, I have never felt this inadequate in my life. My people are suffering for various reasons, be it from the cold winter that is approaching soon to the steady call of war. My people seem to not be able to win either way, and as I sit in front of the fireplace in the study room of the palace, flipping through notes on previous strategies by war generals I feel myself breaking apart. Our resources are limited, our soldiers dying more and more each day and father is suggesting our young men to head to the battlefield, untrained and moderately armed.
How can I, in my conscious state, send men who some are even younger than me, to war? These men are sons, brothers, precious manpower that I cannot bare to see die tragically in the hands of our enemy.
Some of these men are precious friends that once lost, cannot be compensated.
“War is an unnecessary evil,” I say aloud and hear the flipping of pages stop momentarily, before it starts again at a slower pace.
“It’s sad how your highness has little faith in his people,” Jongin simply answers.
I stand up to walk over to the figure hunched over a book at the bookshelf. He ignores my presence as I stand beside him but stops my hand that had tried to beat him. He instead takes the hand and places it on his cheek. My hand is warmer than his face and I can tell from the look in his eyes that he, too, is scared.
“I don’t want to say goodbye to you,” I say.
Jongin smiles. It is sweet and makes my heart flutter. “Good, because I don’t want to either.”
He did not push me away when I leaned in, and his lips were slightly parted, as if they have been waiting for me. I do not tell him that this is the first kiss I have ever experienced and he does not tell me how red my face is, a state he finds too cute to not tease on.
“I will wait for you.”
This is all I can promise. As crown prince, waiting for his loyal subject; as Do Kyungsoo waiting for a person he truly cherishes. He kisses me again and wishes me a good day before leaving, smile on his face as he closes the door.
Only then did I let myself break. Only then did I cry, painful realization that my first kiss with him might also be the last.
[+]
A few weeks has passed since father announced that all able men with no important task in the palace were to help on the battlefield. It has been too long since I last smiled sincerely, since I talked to mother or father. I skip dinner with them on most days, giving excuse of fatigue and headaches. Father seems to not mind but mother has come to realize something is wrong after I go missing for a week straight during dinner.
She confronts me one night as I tuck myself to bed. It is unlike her to come to me, normally I would be summoned if needed. I am a little scared of what news she will be delivering to me.
“Are you well, your majesty?” I ask but she waves her hand at me as a sign to push the formalities aside; it will be a discussion between a mother and her son.
“How are you, my boy?” I hear the concern as clear as day and my heart breaks at it; I did not mean to make her worry. I smile as wide as I can and nod, making her smile in return at me.
“Honey, I have something important to say.”
Mother only calls me honey when she is delivering the worst of news. She had used it when I was ten, to tell me my favorite caretaker had passed away. There was also that time when she told me to pack my stuff as father had decided to send me away for a few years to learn from the western people. I look at her with worried eyes, waiting in dread for her to continue.
“We are losing the war against the kingdom of Mavia. Our soldiers cannot go against the advanced weapons of the opposing kingdom. However, the kingdom of Hariff has offered to merge kingdoms with us. We will become a kingdom with more power due to this merge and Mavia will have no choice to retreat. This is the only best option left for our people.”
“This is great news, mother!” I say but I am not a child, I have come to know her worried look even in dim lighting.
“A marriage will be held in support for this merge. Our crown prince will marry the king of Hariff, a week from now.”
She has tears in her eyes as she says this. She knows; the pain she is putting me through as she says these words. I look down to avoid looking at her; it’s too hard to hold back the tears when she is crying in front of me. She pulls me in for a hug and I slowly sob against her, my defenses breaking as she embraces me after so long. She understands the most the implications of her words, because she, too, was married to my father due to a merge. Trapped in these tall stone walls, confined in a loveless marriage.
“I am so sorry, my son,” she whispers as my sobs become uncontrollable.
It is not her fault; we do not choose the life we must live.
“You must not cry, it will look like you are against this marriage,” I say with the little resolution I have left. She kisses me on my forehead and tells me to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.
[+]
It has been five months since I last saw Kim Jongin. Four months since I have become a married man. Three month since I last smiled at the king of Hariff. Two months since he smiled at me. A month since we stopped trying.
Father had saved our kingdom. By agreeing to merge kingdoms, Mavia felt threaten and had retreated, just as planned. We had welcomed back the people involved in the tragic war. The injured were treated and for those who had lost their life were buried and a funeral was held for them.
Jongin was neither. I had checked with the healers and with the high priest in charge of the funeral. Jongin has not returned. Maybe this is for the best, I had thought back then, I would not know how to welcome him back anyway. I had promised to wait and instead I have gotten myself married. How shameful of me, to go back against our promise when I had always been the one pointing out his lack of manners.
Truthfully, there has not been a day where I do not miss him. However I must not think of this, the king of Hariff is talking to me right now.
“I’m sorry your majesty, I was not paying attention. Can you repeat what you have said?”
I was prepared for a scolding, not for the king to pinch my nose and tell me I am stubborn.
“Ask me again, but address me by my name,” the king orders and I look at my hands, nervously entwining my fingers.
“I’m sorry, Chanyeol. I was not paying attention. Can you repeat what you have said?”
I did not have to look up to see his wide smile, or his hand that has gone to pat my head. He finds my being adorable while I find him… too nice. He makes me feel horrid about my lack of love for him, and I try smiling at him because I should at least meet him halfway out of courtesy. He is my husband, after all.
“I only reminded you to look at your dresser tonight before you go to bed. Sleep well.”
It has been our way of wishing each other good night for this past month. He will walk me to my bedroom before walking away to his. We had stopped trying to sleep on the same bed after he had found out I was not sleeping well. I insisted that we did not have to do that; what would the servants think of this? But he had taken my hands in his and told me that my opinions mattered first before others.
I entered the room and walked straight to the dresser for fear I would forget if I delayed it. There, on the dresser was a stem of a red rose along with a piece of paper underneath it. I picked up the note first.
You are the prettiest when you smile!
I hope I will be worthy of it one day.
-Chanyeol
I sniffed the sweet scent of the rose and got ready for bed, smiling at the act of the king. I will use this to tease him tomorrow.
[+]
The king does not like certain types of fishes and as I made my way to the kitchen to remind the chef, I am brought back to the many memories I had spent down here. This place holds a special place in my heart, and as I push the door open I cannot hide the smile on my face as I feel a wave of nostalgia.
I must be seeing things as the one who greets me in the kitchen looks too much like Jongin. Hair a little longer, but still that same smile and exaggerated bow as I step in.
“Your majesty, is there anything I can get you?”
My heart beats a little faster at this man’s voice. It is the same as Jongin’s, and I cannot look at him as I tell him the purpose of my visit to the kitchen.
“Thank you for reminding me, your majesty,” he says and as he bows to excuse himself I cannot help but to see similarities. The youthful attitude, his ever-present smile. I want to ask if he knows Kim Jongin, because that man would not just let me leave the kitchen without stopping me. That man would boldly demand for a kiss as he has safely returned, and he would ask me if I have missed him. That man would not just turn around to go back to cooking the king’s lunch.
That man would have stopped me as he saw the tears stream down my cheeks.
[+]
I spend most of my time these days in the garden, near the rose bushes. It had entertained me, when my servants could not find me in the palace and panicked. It is usually the guard assigned to follow me everywhere that stops the frantic servants just in time before they alarm the king.
I come here to read. The topic varies; from literature to science and in between that, language. I only spend the first hour reading, though. Because when the sun has gone down a little and it’s less hot, the gardener comes out. I watch him from behind my book, subtly catching him smiling at random plants as he tends to them. He seems so passionate in his work that I have come to admire it behind my book.
The gardener is the same man from the kitchen the other day.
Today, however, I have a different task at hand. I have decided to reply the rose that king Chanyeol has left for me a few nights ago. I hunch over, searching for the perfect rose. As I found one a few moments later, I forgot they had thorns and had cut myself trying to pluck a stem. I gasp at the pain and I hear someone running over, surprised that it is the gardener.
“Always so silly about petty things, this king of mine,” the gardener says as he takes out a napkin that looks horribly familiar. As he wrapped it around my cut I could see that it is indeed the napkin that I had once given Jongin, and I instantly pull my hand away.
“How dare you, Jongin. How dare you act like this, not even meeting me again once you have returned? I worried for you!” I could not control my rage as I saw the man I have missed for almost half a year.
“Your majesty, you are now married. I am happy for you,” he simply says before bowing to leave.
I look at his retreating figure, hearing the unspoken words loud and clear. Things cannot go back as they were and it is all because of me.
[+]
The next time I spoke to Kim Jongin was when king Chanyeol had just left to meet his royal advisors. He had approached me with such a sad expression on his face and as I let him into my room, I bit my lip with worry.
“I must leave you. I must leave the palace,” is what Jongin says after pacing around and I look at the floor, no fight in me. My whole being wants nothing more but to stop him but my rationality knows better; I have a responsibility to the people of my kingdom.
“I will leave as soon as I pack my things. I just… wanted to bid you farewell one last time, Do Kyungsoo.”
Maybe it is the sudden separation, or my longing that has not been satisfied yet that had made me act in this way. Nevertheless as I pulled Jongin near me, felt his hand curl around my waist, his soft lips kissing my forehead, I feel nothing but bliss. I feel whole, as if a missing part of me has finally been found.
At the same time the door opens, and I come face to face with the king.
[+]
The king does not speak to me for days. He does not even spare a glance towards me. He is badly hurt by my actions, and I do not blame him. I deserve punishment, but sadly the one held captive is Jongin. He has been locked up in the palace’s prison right after the king found us in my room. I tried explaining to him that nothing happened, but he refuses to even listen.
I do not blame his cold attitude towards me. I just want Jongin to be released.
“You want me to release him? Fine, but I want you to be the one who makes sure he never comes back again. I want you to break his heart,” Chanyeol says after he finally listens to what I have to say. I accept his orders with gracefulness; at least Jongin has not received worse punishment, like death.
“If he comes back, I will kill him in front of you, Kyungsoo. He will be dead but you will still be stuck in this marriage, with someone you do not love.”
[+]
I had gone down to the dungeon, where the prison is located. I had told the guard of the order given by the king and the guard bowed, before proceeding to release Jongin. He seemed too weak as he walked out, head bent low. I felt a deep sense of remorse as he looked up to me and was able to still smile despite everything I have done to him.
“Your majesty, what are you-“
“Please leave now and never come back. Live well, meet new people, and fall in love. Marry someone who will make you smile and miss you when you are gone for even a minute.”
“I don’t understand-“
“Do not show your face here ever again. If we meet in the future we will simply nod in acknowledgement and then walk away. I will forget you from now onwards, Kim Jongin.”
I see his eyes water and it breaks me momentarily but I overcome my want to walk over to him. That want was what caused us to be in this situation in the first place.
“Never show yourself in front of me or his majesty, Kim Jongin,” I say with finality and turn around, covering my mouth with my hand as I softly sob into it. I do not hate my destiny, or my fate to spend the remaining days of my life in this palace with a king who might never open up to me ever again.
After all, one cannot change the fate that has been bestowed upon them.
[+]
will write a/n later after sleep lmao i have been up for a day because i wanted to finish this and don't worry there will be a/n for this fic because it ruined my life.
tada!