The Law of Inertia {YOONMIN}

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jimin woke to the news of his father's death.

They had not been able to revive him this time. Perhaps, they simply hadn't tried.

    The first bite of winter air whirled around outside. The trees were all dying, the flowers all wilted. No birds sang, no music played from the village. Jungkook and he did not go out for christmas trees as they usually would have. There was no tea in the parlor for breakfast.

    Just his younger brother showing up at his door with a gray velvet box. A small sack on top. His eyes were near as swollen as Jimin's. Child-like mirth drowning in mourning. The castle cried as the door swung shut, and Jimin cradled the items.    

    In one case, he knew, sat the crown molded and tailored just for him. As for the sack, inside sat his father's wedding bands. He discards them to his vanity, mind empty. Clouding over. The need to scream, sob,- jump out of his window and run to the hidden village in the forest,- was inside of him, but buried deep, deep down below the acceptance. In three days time he will be King. His quarters will grow, the bustle of the castle will move to his empty study. Book and scrolls already being moved out of his father's. Help awaiting their official positions, Jin setting up meetings with the nearer kingdoms.

    As Jimin goes through the notion of dressing for his father's funeral, he wonders what's below the mist at the base of the mountain. Trousers, he wonders if there are mermaids, dress shirt tailored for the occasion, he wonders if any of the old word remains. Socks, boots, his finest cloak, maybe there, fathers don't die. Maybe, there is a fountain of Youth in a valley.

    He runs a comb through his hair before opening the fine box. Inside, gleams a delicate tiara of silver, emeralds glinting inside. It was funny, how something so simple held Jimin's fate in its hands. He places the tiara on his brown hair, it has faded over the past few months from dark to a light, autumn leaf color. He thinks of what music might belong to the people below the mountain. How many people are there.

    When Yoongi arrives at his side Jimin does not jump. He says nothing. He's sure Yoongi can smell it, the mourning. The nothing. The silence of the castle, the death that consumes it. The prince does not speak to him, but sends for his father's crown. Hands Yoongi a fine set of trousers, a shirt he had tailored for the older man, a fine cloak lined with the fur of a bear.

    They sit in silence, arms width apart until the crown arrives. The Prince takes two steps forward, and sets it on the elders head. The red of the rubies glint. It does not fall off his head as it did Jimin's. He swallows down the fear of Yoongi looking like a king. He swallows down the fear of him potentially being one.

    "What is this?" Yoongi finally asks, looking down at the fine garb.

    Truthfully, Jimin knew he could not face this alone. He knew he'd need Yoongi at his side. He could only hope the man loved him enough to stay.

    "You know what it is," Jimin muttered, looking away to focus on a spot on the wall. "Just,...-I don't expect you to, but I have already spoken with my mother. The cost is simply a legality-...,and your time. Your energy, your work. You don't have to do it. I do not expect you to." He repeats, "It's a lot to ask of a person."

    "To-," Yoongi is stepping closer. Jimin wants to remove the crown from his head. From both of their heads, and run from here. Away from the throne, away from the kingdom. Let their feet take them somewhere far from here, where it was just he and Yoongi. They could bond, have a nice cabin where they spent could spend the winters, where no one could get to them.

But the alpha has restraints beyond Jimin.

"Rule with you?" The man finishes, his voice is quiet. As if not wanting to break the dreariness of the castle.