Chapter Text
Once upon a time, there were seven boys in a grand but shabby house, deep in the woods. Six of the seven were Princes, and the other one was unconscious.
Yoongi lay in the centre of the big, plush bed. His snowy skin was as pale as the fine sheets, his glossy black hair as stark as the black keys on a new piano. His lips were only faintly pink, fainter than the soft bloom of blood through the gauze of the bandage wrapped around his wounded shoulder.
Prince Hoseok sat on the side of the bed at Yoongi’s left, watching anxiously for any sign that Yoongi would wake, and keeping an eye that he didn’t bleed through the bandage.
Prince Jimin lay on Yoongi’s uninjured side, his blonde head tucked on Yoongi’s shoulder, humming a soft little song. It was one Yoongi had often played, during the idyllic days between curses, and Jimin hoped Yoongi might follow the sound back to them.
Prince Taehyung sat dozing in an armchair beside the bed, his long legs stretched out and tangled with Jimin’s on the bed. He had watched Yoongi all through the deepest hours of the night, to let the others sleep, and was exhausted.
Prince Seokjin was in the kitchen, cooking. He had readily taken on the task of feeding everyone, and scolding any who neglected to eat or sleep. It wasn’t yet time to prepare dinner, but he was making soup, to get Yoongi’s strength up when he woke.
Prince Jungkook was around the house, running errands and running off his excess energy. He slipped into the grand bedroom constantly, anxiously peering at Yoongi before collecting cuddles and requests from everyone and hurrying off again.
And Prince Namjoon - for that was the name of the Prince who had been cursed to a monstrous form - paced the corridor outside the bedroom. It was his own bedroom, the largest in the house, and he had insisted it be used, so that Yoongi and his princely nursemaids could be as comfortable as possible.
“Is it time to change the bandage yet, hyung?” Jimin murmured softly.
“Not yet, sweet boy,” Hoseok answered softly. He reached over Yoongi to card a delicate hand through Jimin’s soft hair. “Don’t worry, I’m watching closely. As soon as he needs it, I’ll tell you.”
“Because poor hyungie is too squeamish to do it himself,” Jimin teased effortfully.
The door opened, and Jungkook appeared.
“Is he awake yet?” he asked, immediately coming to the bed. Hoseok grabbed him and pulled him onto his lap.
“My beautiful baby bunny boy!” Hoseok cooed.
“Aish, hyungie...!” Jungkook whined, but he sat very happily on Hoseok’s lap, cuddling him tight.
“’Course he’s not awake,” Jimin said. He was laughing, but there was a delicate anxiety to the sound. “You know Hoseokie-hyung will shriek loud enough to alert the whole forest when he wakes!”
“Aigoo... pl’se don’ shriek...” grumbled Taehyung, half-asleep.
The door opened again, this time to Seokjin.
“How is he?” he asked softly, coming across to perch on the arm of Taehyung’s chair and ruffle his thick, dark hair fondly.
“Still not awake,” Jungkook answered with a pout.
“Well of course, I knew that! ” Seokjin answered. “Because if he woke and no one called for me, I would drown you all in the gamasot and keep precious Yoonie all to myself!”
“It’s been almost a full day,” Hoseok said unhappily. “He looks so frail...”
“He’s strong, though,” Jimin said stubbornly. “Right?”
“Yeah!” Jungkook agreed, vehement in his certainty. “Yoongi-hyung is the strongest! He’ll be fine!”
“Mmh,” agreed Taehyung. “He survived... what? Three curses, two kidnappings, a straightforward murder attempt, falling into the sea, and direct exposure to Jeon Jungkook. He can survive a nick with a sword.”
“Yah!” Jungkook cried loudly.
The door opened immediately and Namjoon stuck his head in.
“What was that?” he asked anxiously.
“Just the babies fussing,” Seokjin answered, tugging Taehyung’s hair chidingly. “But come in, join us.”
“Sorry, Monster-hyung,” Jungkook said.
“Aish, baby boy, stop calling him that!” Hoseok scolded.
“I don’t really mind,” said Namjoon, still hovering in the doorway. “And I don’t want to be in the way, I just want to be close in case he needs something when he wakes. And so that I know he’s okay.” Namjoon’s voice was thick with guilt.
“Joonie-hyung,” Jimin whined. “ Please come in?”
The others added their agreement, and Namjoon shyly came into his own bedroom, taking the other chair.
As soon as he sat down, Yoongi stirred.
“Hyung!” gasped Jimin, and all the Princes drew in close, hopeful and eager and anxious.
Yoongi could hear the music of conversation around him as he drifted in the darkness. Something hurt a lot. But something felt very, very right too. His heart was at peace.
He blinked his eyes open, to see six anxious, tired, perfect faces leaning in over him.
“’lo,” he rasped softly. “Did I do somethin’ stupid?”
“Yep,” said Taehyung at exactly the same time Jimin cried, “No!”
“Get your story straight, boys,” Yoongi grumbled.
He tried to sit up, but his left shoulder seized with terrible pain and he whimpered, sinking back again.
“Don’t, my love!” Hoseok said anxiously, his hands hovering at Yoongi’s bandaged shoulder.
“You have to lie still and let us look after you!” scolded a tall, impossible handsome man with a charming voice.
Yoongi blinked at him.
“Jin...?” he asked.
“Prince Seokjin, of the Kim Kingdom,” said the charming man, and he blew Yoongi a dramatic kiss. “Didn’t think you’d get away from me that easily, did you?”
“Ah, I’m sorry,” Yoongi began, “I was--”
“Don’t worry, kid,” Seokjin said with a smile. “My lovely Taehyungie and the others explained everything to me after your dramatic exit. I wish you’d stayed to let me protect you, but I understand that I, uh... could’ve come clean in a... cleaner way!”
“Why would you wish he stayed?” complained Jungkook. “Then he wouldn’t have met me and broken my curse! And he wouldn’t have met Monster-hyung and broken his curse too!”
“Wait,” rasped Yoongi. “I did what...?”
Taehyung pushed forward a tall, striking man with silver-grey hair the hue of a wolf’s coat. Yoongi’s eyes widened and he started to smile.
“You’re looking a lot better, Monster,” Yoongi said softly.
“Namjoon,” said the man who had once been the terrible beast. “My name is Namjoon, and I owe you everything, Min Yoongi. My life, twice over.”
“I broke your curse?” Yoongi asked. He scrunched up his face, confused. “While I was unconscious?”
Namjoon took Yoongi’s hand hesitantly. Yoongi gripped as tight as he could.
“The curse could only be broken if my True Love would sacrifice their life for mine,” Namjoon said, his voice thick with tears and guilt. “I never wanted it to happen. I tried to prevent anyone from ever getting close to me, so I would never know love. But when you offered to save Jungkookie’s life by giving up your own... I don’t know, I think I just wanted to get to know the kind of person who would do that. Let me imagine what it would be like, to know my True Love.”
Yoongi cried again, remembering the kiss they shared, remembering the desperate moment he threw himself between Namjoon and the sword. Namjoon brushed the tears from Yoongi’s pale face.
“To be honest,” Namjoon continued with a self-deprecating smile, “I didn’t think you were my True Love. A seer once told me my fated True Love was a pianist. I didn’t know you were a pianist until Jiminie and the others told me about you. If I had known, I would have locked you up more securely. Although, maybe I wouldn’t have. I really didn’t expect you could get out so easily, but I guess I underestimated your resourcefulness.”
“Aish,” said Jungkook. “I’m really glad my True Love just had to kiss me to break my curse!”
“You-- What did you--?” Yoongi asked, shocked. “Did you just say it was specifically your True fucking Love who had to kiss you?”
“Yeah, did I not mention that?”
“No!” cried Yoongi. “You just said I had to kiss you! What if I wasn’t your True Love?!”
“But you were, so it was fine,” Jungkook shrugged.
“You-- you fucking--??” Yoongi spluttered.
“Aish, I thought I was so lucky, getting a kiss from this boy within an hour of meeting him, but then I found out he made out with a literal rabbit within ten minutes,” Seokjin complained.
“It took me hours, and I had to initiate!” said Taehyung.
“Yoongi-hyung! I practically had to threaten you!” Jimin pouted. “You kissed everyone else for the first time so easily?”
“Min-ah, no, c’mon--” Yoongi started, panicked.
“Well I kissed him for the first time when he was unconscious,” Hoseok said with a slightly nervous laugh.
“Yeah,” Yoongi complained, “which I still don’t approve--”
“I was breaking your curse!” Hoseok cried. “Aigoo~ This hyung is so ungrateful!”
“Ooh, problematic, Hoseokie-hyung,” said Jungkook.
“Philosophically interesting, though,” said Namjoon. “The boundaries of consent in the circumstances of a curse.”
“Maybe we should all write on our arm if we wanna be kissed while cursed,” said Taehyung.
The seven of them bickered and laughed for a while longer. They told one another the stories of curses and dangers and strange happenstances that led each Prince to Yoongi.
They teased Hoseok for kissing Yoongi without asking. They teased Jimin for falling in the sea and for demanding kisses. They teased Taehyung for grabbing the obviously cursed earring in his bare hand. They teased Seokjin for obscuring his identity too well. They teased Jungkook for trying to jump in a deep, cold pool as a fragile little bunny. They teased Namjoon for his politely threatening sign. And they teased Yoongi for eating poisoned tangerines and bickering with a witch and inadvertently passing a sleeping curse to a whole palace and running away from a ball and kissing a rabbit and throwing himself in front of a sword.
And somehow, during the teasing and laughter and arguments and storytelling, the seven of them all ended up together on the big, big bed.
After a time, Yoongi’s bandage needed changing. Jimin had appointed himself in charge of such things, being very deft and gentle, and not too squeamish. He carefully unwound Yoongi’s bandage and eased it away.
“Oh!” said Jimin. “Look!”
There, right by the wound, on the back of Yoongi’s shoulder, was a figure seven, as stark and clear as ink on paper.
“Ooh!” said Jungkook, leaning in over Seokjin, as everyone crowded close to see.
“What?” asked Yoongi, straining to look over his own injured shoulder without hurting himself. “What is it?”
“It's like someone drew a seven on you, hyung!” Hoseok said. “Oh! Oh hey!”
Because Jimin had just reached out to brush the tip of his finger across the marked skin, and as he did, a similar figure seven was revealed on the side of his sweet, small finger.
“Hyungnim, look!” Jimin cried in delight. “We match!”
“No fair!” cried Jungkook immediately. “I want one!”
“You have one, bunny boy,” said Taehyung, pointing behind Jungkook’s ear.
“I bet we all do,” said Yoongi, supremely confident.
There followed a flurry of fetching of mirrors and stripping off of clothes, and indeed, Yoongi was right. Each of them had a delicate little seven inscribed somewhere on their body.
“I always knew me and Tae were soulmates,” Jimin smiled, tracing the seven on Taehyung’s thigh with his finger. “But wow, seven soulmates? I never heard of that!”
“We’re special,” Jungkook said solemnly.
And they were.
Over the next few days, the six Princes took every care of their snowy, glossy boy. He complained at length that he wasn’t allowed do anything without at least two Princes getting involved to help. But he was secretly very touched at their care.
And they all cared for one another too.
Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung had been together for several months now, Yoongi’s first three Princes.
Prince Seokjin had long been Taehyung’s doting hyung. He had merrily welcomed the cluster of anxious Princes Yoongi had left behind at his ball.
Prince Jungkook had been, until his curse vanished him away, Hoseok’s adoring dongsaeng. He was now immediately established as the darling maknae of the group.
And Prince Namjoon, despite his reticence, was naturally folded in too. In fact, as the master of the house Yoongi was convalescing in, he inadvertently became something of a leader of the flock of Princes, the others deferring to him in his house. Despite his initial shyness and guilt, he took on the role courageously, determined to take care of the anxious Princes as best he could.
Once Yoongi was recovered enough to move around the house, the seven of them began to plan.
Crown Prince Jimin and Crown Prince Hoseok were the heirs apparent of their Kingdoms, each to become King once Jimin’s Appa and Hoseok’s Mama died.
Crown Prince Seokjin was the heir presumptive of his own Kingdom, and very likely to inherit, as his elder brother was many years older than him and childless.
Prince Namjoon, Prince Taehyung, and Prince Jungkook were not in line to rule, but rather, expected to form alliances for their Kingdoms. (Indeed, Hoseok’s Mama had eyed Namjoon as a suitable consort for her son, until his abrupt disappearance.)
Yoongi was nobody but the only child of a gentle pianist.
It was obvious to all of them that they would stay as seven. But where could they live as seven? None of the three Kingdoms would accept their Crown Prince living elsewhere. Nor was it practical to rotate between the three. It would be too tiring and difficult to travel so much, and each Crown Prince would still be absent too often from their own Kingdom.
Their discussions waxed and waned over several days.
Yoongi was always in the centre of everyone’s arguments, as each Prince was determined that Yoongi would be taken care of above all. But he made no arguments himself. Indeed, he barely spoke on the matter. The others would ask him his thoughts, and he would shrug his good shoulder and say he was no Prince.
Seven days after the seven of them were finally gathered together, the six Princes were once again trying to figure out how and where the seven could live. But Yoongi was sitting alone in the garden. Or so he thought.
Because to his surprise, a stranger sat next to him by the pond. The stranger had a round, jovial face, and wore spectacles. He smiled at Yoongi and Yoongi looked at him in some confusion.
“I can see you’ve been touched by destiny,” the stranger said.
“Can you?” Yoongi asked.
“I can see a great many things,” he answered.
“Can you see how to make six Princes come to a workable arrangement for a seven-person, tri-national, royal polyamorous relationship?” Yoongi asked.
“No, but you can,” answered the seer.
Yoongi was confused.
“You already know what answer is best,” said the seer. “Trust yourself, Min Yoongi, Suga, Agust D. Like the lotus flowers in this pond, you’ll bloom. And the seven of you will change the world.”
With that, the seer left.
Yoongi returned inside, to the grand library where the other six were measuring distances between the palaces on a map.
“Hyung,” said Namjoon. “I know you haven’t really felt comfortable contributing to these discussions but I think we really need your input on this--”
“Yeah, you do,” Yoongi answered firmly.
He crossed the room, took the pen from Jimin, and scrawled a triangle across the three Kingdoms.
“I didn’t want to be rude, since you’re all Princes through no fault of your own, and all noble in the best sense of the word,” said Yoongi to the Princes. “But monarchy is inherently abusive. Yeah, there’s no perfect system of governance, but damn, we have to be able to do better than foisting all the power and all the responsibility on a tiny fraction of the population through nothing but the accident of their birth to a ruling family.”
Yoongi spoke to them of radical abolition, of governance by consent, of democratic and anarchic and socialist and collectivist theories. He argued for fundamental system change. He persuaded them that all the best ideals of monarchy could be preserved and strengthened, integrated into the ethos of an elected leadership.
They spoke long into the night, seven around a table, drawing on the map and imagining a new world.
The very next day, they left from the quiet house in the deep forest. They had much work to do.
Crown Prince Seokjin and the poet Prince Namjoon rode back to the palace of the Kim Kingdom, to challenge Seokjin’s elder brother for the throne. The Court of Kim was appalled to learn of Namjoon’s curse and Yoongi’s many trials. The King of Kim found he was allied with a villainous Lord, a spiteful poet, and a witch now wracked with remorse. Within a day of their arrival, the King of Kim fled from his throne, and preparations began for the coronation of King Seokjin.
Crown Prince Hoseok and the lost Prince Jungkook travelled across the lands, to the palace of the Jung Kingdom, to persuade the throne from Hoseok’s mother. The Queen of Jung was overjoyed to see Prince Jungkook restored. Hoseok offered to lift from her the burden of the crown, and the Queen, who was wise and very hardworking, agreed. Within a week of their arrival, the Queen of Jung gracefully stepped down, and preparations began for the coronation of King Hoseok.
Crown Prince Jimin and his soulmate Prince Taehyung journeyed back to the palace of the Park Kingdom, to argue for Jimin’s father’s throne. The King of Park threw a celebration for the return of his son and his son’s dearest friend, and for the rescue of Yoongi, lamenting at length that Jimin should have brought Yoongi home with him. Yoongi’s Eomma was guest of honour at the celebrations. She was safe and well and so very relieved that her son had survived. Jimin and Taehyung explained the plan to Jimin’s Appa. He took much convincing, but he was eventually satisfied. Within a month of their arrival, the King of Park cheerfully abdicated, and preparations began for the coronation of King Jimin.
Meanwhile, Yoongi had set out alone. His many Princes had attempted to dissuade him, and when that failed, they had attempted to insist they accompany him. But he was stubborn. He had decided what to do, and he would do it himself.
He went to the house of the Lord.
He had arrived here once as a vulnerable boy, unaware of the hate he would be confronted with.
He had arrived here again as a prisoner, defeated but yet defiant.
He arrived for the third time with a smile on his lips.
“You!” spat the Lord, when Yoongi appeared before him in the drawing room where he had once knelt every morning to polish the Lord’s boots. It was evening now, the candles lit. “How dare you?”
Yoongi smiled. He wore those very boots now, polished and gleaming. He wore the sparkling earring that once carried the Lord’s most expensive poison. He wore the narrow hunting knife that had once been poised to plunge into Yoongi’s heart. He wore a jaunty hat, with a vivid feather, and did not care to remove it in the Lord’s presence. He wore a silver rose ring, that meant he loved and was loved. And he wore a shimmering guitar pick necklace, that meant he had his voice.
“Mmh, how dare I?” asked Yoongi. “Very easily. You’ve got no more power over me, asshole. Cause I’m the guy who’s about to carve history into the ground, and wherever you go, you’re gonna hear my name whispered. I’m the unkillable bulgasari and I’ve grown stronger and stronger on your envy.”
The Lord flew into a rage, but Yoongi just laughed.
“You think you’ve won?” the Lord asked. “You think you’ve succeeded?”
“Oh I’m not sure I’ve got all the secrets to success yet,” Yoongi answered. “But I know the secret to failure. It’s being a fool like you, blabbing about your beauty and power when you’re too spiteful and self-obsessed to use either one for anything worthwhile. Couldn’t be me.”
“I will poison you,” the Lord threatened.
“I’m pretty much wise to your bullshit by now,” Yoongi answered. “I doubt you can.”
“I will poison your precious Princes,” the Lord threatened.
“Yeah they’re wise to your bullshit too,” Yoongi answered. “And we’ve collectively gotten pretty good at breaking curses anyway. You’re not gonna scare me that way anymore. Plus I’m pretty sure you’re running out of curses. No way you have any decent ones left.”
“Ha! You would like to think so,” said the Lord, and he revealed his cabinet of terrible poisons, each glowing and roiling and bubbling in their vials. “I have bled my great wealth almost dry to collect--”
“Thanks,” said Yoongi.
He took up a candelabra and lunged for the cabinet, thrusting it through the glass with his gloved hand and setting the cabinet alight. The vials shattered and the wood burnt and the poisons went up in acrid puffs of heavy smoke.
The Lord screamed his rage, watching all his expensive poisons boil and burn.
“I will simply kill you!” the Lord threatened. “I will lock you up in the cellar and beat you and starve you!”
“You fucking won’t,” Yoongi answered. “Because if you do, my Princes will come get me again, and you’re not gonna like their tactics. That’s if I stay that long. I won’t go down without a fight and even if you manage to lock me up, I know how to pick locks.”
“Then I will have you arrested!” the Lord yelled. “I will go to the King of Kim himself!”
“I very much invite you to do that,” Yoongi answered with a nasty smile, knowing Seokjin was even now confronting the King. “In the meantime, bye.”
With that, Yoongi left the Lord’s house for the last time. He was tempted to set fire to it on his way out, as he had imagined doing as an imprisoned maid. But he resisted the urge. The Lord held no power over him. He had lost the favour of the King, because the King was gone. He had lost his poisons and with them, much of his wealth. And most importantly, he had lost the ability to make Yoongi feel afraid.
Yoongi then followed Jimin and Taehyung to the palace of the Park Kingdom.
The King - for Jimin’s Appa was yet King - threw another great celebration at his arrival. Yoongi was touched by his joy, but really, all he wanted was to talk with his Eomma, sleep in the same bed as Jimin and Taehyung, play the beautiful piano, and wait for his other Princes.
And so he occupied himself, until the time of the three coronations drew near. Seokjin’s coronation was to take place first, then Hoseok’s, then Jimin’s.
This time, when Yoongi set out from the palace, it was as part of a full royal procession.
“This is bonkers,” he said, eyeing the caravan of beribboned horses and gilded carriages and covered palanquins dubiously.
“I know,” said Jimin. “I preferred when it was just us. But soon it will be again.”
On the road, they were joined by the procession of the Princes of Jung, and their reunion with Hoseok and Jungkook was boisterous and gleeful. They were separated during the day, each Prince with his own transport and retinue. But Yoongi, being not a Prince but a royal favourite, divided his time between each, as best he could. And at night, the processions made camp together. So when Yoongi lay down with whichever Prince he had been travelling with, sooner or later, they found themselves joined by three other Princes, sneaking in through the sheets of the tent.
Then they arrived at the palace of the Kingdom of Kim. It was decorated even more splendidly for the coronation than it had been for the ball. But Yoongi and his Princes had no eyes for candles or banners or flowers or ornaments. They only cared for the beauty of Seokjin and Namjoon. They only cared that they were seven again.
That night - the night before the coronation was to take place - all seven slept in the same quarters, just as they had during Yoongi’s convalescence.
The next day, Seokjin brought his six lovers with him to the waiting throne and crown. And there, he stood before the assembled Court of Kim, the ambassadors from Park and Jung, the lucky invited guests and those few commoners who had queued for days to get a place in the grand hall. There, Seokjin announced that he would not take the Crown of Kim. That he would, instead, guard and nurture the country until a leader could be chosen, by the will of all the people of the land.
Seven days later, Hoseok stood before the Court of Jung, the ambassadors from Kim and Park, the lucky invited guests and dedicated commoners, and announced that he would not take the Crown of Jung. He would love and protect the country until a leader could be chosen, by the will of all the people of the land.
Seven days after that, Jimin stood before the Court of Park, the ambassadors from Jung and Kim, the lucky invited guests and dedicated commoners.
“Before I make the announcement I’m sure you’ve all guessed is coming,” said Jimin. “There’s one last thing we, the Princes of these three Kingdoms, have decided. Our final royal act, before we dissolve the last monarchy of these lands. Min Yoongi, known as Suga and Agust D, thrice-cursed and destiny-touched. Please stand before us.”
Yoongi, surprised and confused, awkwardly stepped out from the end of the line of Princes flanking Jimin, and stood before the six of them. Jimin was in the centre, beaming his beautiful smile.
“Min Yoongi,” said Namjoon. “You once called us noble, in the best sense of the word. You could not embody that word, that concept, more fully.”
“We decided, because we get to decide these things, that we quite like being Princes,” said Seokjin. “So we’re keeping the title as courtesy titles.”
“But we also decided we should all match!” said Hoseok. “So us Crown Princes are just gonna be Princes, which is what we usually used anyway.”
“And we couldn’t possibly be six Princes out of seven,” said Jimin. “Therefore, as my final royal act, I hereby elevate Min Yoongi to the rank of Prince.”
“All hail Prince Yoongi!” cried Taehyung. “And we also agreed that since there’s no more hereditary kings, we want you to own that word. You’re the only king.”
“You don’t have to use these monarchy words if you don’t want to,” Jungkook said. “But we wanted to give them to you. Cause we love you, hyungie!”
Yoongi was a little baffled, but very touched by the Princes’ efforts. And though he had no desire to have been born a Prince, he found he quite liked being awarded with the title. And he couldn’t deny he relished claiming to be a king in a land with none.
Jimin then announced, of course, that he would not take the Crown of Park. He would cherish and serve the country until a leader could be chosen, by the will of all the people of the land.
There followed a very busy time for the seven Princes. Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin stayed mostly in their own countries, working on a peaceful and just transition of power. The other four Princes travelled between the three palaces. Namjoon and Yoongi took on the task of uniting the countries, creating systems by which the three countries could support one another and allow people and goods to move freely between them.
In the end, each country became a culturally independent province. And the first leader chosen to care for the three lands was President Kim Namjoon.
Namjoon ruled for three years with Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin in his cabinet. He offered a place for Yoongi, desiring Yoongi’s clear and courageous voice, but Yoongi refused. He came to Namjoon whenever Namjoon called for him, and acted as advisor, but he had something else he wanted to work on.
Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook spent the three years just as busy as the other four. They found a beautiful glade. It was secluded, but very close to the capital city. And there they built a house with a very, very big bed and a very, very beautiful piano in pride of place. It had seven studies and seven bathrooms. It had a big kitchen and a big dining table. It had wide windows looking out in every direction. It was elegant and expensive and exactly what they wanted. Yoongi very much enjoyed designing it, and leading the youngest two in building it.
Three years seemed like a long time to wait, especially when they had to spend so much of that time apart.
But finally came the day when Namjoon joyfully passed the office to another. All seven stood together before the assembly for his final speech, and the cheers lifted so high and lasted so long, some claim the echoes can still be heard today.
“C’mon,” said Yoongi, when the celebrations were over. “It’s time to go home.”
The seven Princes rode to their own house, where they could be together, and safe. Where they could create music and dance and write poetry. Where they could cook together and eat together. Where there were no curses and no fears and no obligations of rank or royalty. Where none of them would ever feel alone. Where they could all be truly themselves.
That house became a place of music and song, and a place of joy and wisdom. A place of true love.
And yes, Yoongi and his Princes lived happily ever after.
~ The End ~
