GLAMOUR, GLITTER, GLORY //JIKOOK

CHAPTER 1: CROWN PRINCE, LITTLE PRINCE

"i hate this."

"but you're good at it," seokjin supplied, even 𝘩𝘦 wasn't that good in archery. next to jungkook, an arrow hits the bullseye- and he turns to see the beta throw a wink at him. jungkook rolls his eyes, signalling seokjin to give him an arrow. he pulled it taut, "have you seen it?"

"yoongi?"

"no- i mean, yes, him, but yoongi is-" he paused, tongue sticking out as he focused. seokjin smiles, he likes the sudden wave of sour litchi scent whenever jungkook trains his mind on his target. though he does need to teach him how to control his scent. he releases the directive, seokjin's eyes following the bolt. it lands close, very close, but it's not bullseye. "your grip is inconsistent, you take too-"

"i'm better than you."

"i know, jungkook, but- prince, sorry- but you can be better."

"i can look out for myself." seokjin's eye twitchs, hands balling into fists: opening and closing. and oh, jungkook is smiling. he loves seokjin mad. loves his flowery scent turn into cow dung. "so, yoongi."

"what about him?" seokjin doesn't want to take it to 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 father, or the king. though, he has: multiple times. jungkook doesn't like him, jungkook doesn't listen to him. but it's the same answer always, 'he's your little brother. he will accept you. he has to.' but protection is one thing, training? the first thing jungkook ever said to him was, 'you lived in a 𝘩𝘶𝘵?' with the litchi tasting so disgusting he might as well be licking dirt.

seokjin's a good head taller than him, but the way jungkook's eyes scanned him up and down as if it was his fault for being poor and not his own father's for leaving a pregnant woman, all alone, and never coming back made him feel so small, young, as if jungkook's the one born five years earlier.

how do you become a king with being so heedless of your own people and unconscious of your own surroundings?

"yoongi is so balanced. he's so good in archery- he splits an arrow every fortnight. but he's equally lousy in running. i'm amazed," jungkook nods, pleased with his discovery.

seokjin is, however, amazed at how: at the end of the day, it's really just a nineteen year old who was crowned to be the next majesty ten years ago- by just a little persuasion of his mother to the king, who's the daughter of the neighbours, and their sweet, sweet colourless river.

while he was fourteen, fighting wolves to protect whatever husbandry he had.

jungkook pulls his bow back again, seokjin watching: knowing pointing out his posture is just going to end up in withered scents. how is he supposed to train him this way?

seokjin didn't like his mother: what did she wait for all those, alone, mocking, 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-𝘵𝘸𝘰 years- for a 𝘮𝘢𝘯, who calls himself 'king', but is bound by the hands of a loveless marriage by a treaty?

the arrow lands even farther away from the target.

jungkook didn't like his father: how does he really, have the audacity, to reveal it to them after 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 years of his kin- that he has another woman on his mind, despite the contemporary?

it's a secret you take to your grave. that you already had a wife, probably an offspring, living somewhere on the skirts whom you promised to marry after the war ends. seventeen years ago.

the amalgam of love and war is so obscure.

they both linger, then some more.

"your posture, jungkook!" yoongi calls, pulling out his arrows from the tree. "i know!" jungkook whines. he would have skinned seokjin alive if 𝘩𝘦 said that. though seokjin is his brother, and yoongi is the commander general's son: next in line. jungkook asks for another arrow.

does jungkook have the experience of wilderness? providing for your mother who's too weak after his birth- to walk, to eat, with no one else in his family to take care of her. or him. where you skin your own lance, where enemies give no warnings.

"let's do lance instead, prince," seokjin requests, which he hates. it makes him seem like he's somewhere 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 jungkook, just because jungkook comes from royalty.

does seokjin have the experience of royalty? where you have never seen your own parents in the same room, ever, except when they're in the court hall, or scheming on a table with the ministers- all the obligatory tasks, where their eyes barely meet. and he's forced down a family sword at six, to fight against enemies: which he's sure to make.

"okay," it's odd for jungkook to agree so easily, because blades are something seokjin masters at, despite not having the commander general to train him: and he knows it makes a room of fresh scents turn bitter really fast, not just jungkook.

"that was quick," seokjin doesn't 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 to argue, but it's good to rile jungkook up because he performs better when he's angry. and the burst of rotten lichis is so thick when the first time jungkook hits the ground, it's sure to dismantle the opponent- though it has it's own downsides.

like alerting someone else.

"i need to get better in close combat," jungkook frowns to himself, the excitement of being a participant for the first time wearing down: and the weight of it settling in. it's a war. and daegu's kim is no one to mess with.

seokjin has himself never been in a war. sometimes he's thankful: he didn't have to leave his mother and come back after years with missing limbs; sometimes he's angry: that the only reason he's termed 'incapable' is for the fact that he's poor.

"me or dummy?" he knew the answer, but asked anyway.

"you."

before they pointed the lances at each other, someone calls. yoongi. "jungkook, they're calling us!"

jungkook sighed- must be his father. he puts the lance at the waist. "him too!" jungkook looks back to see seokjin confused. he was too. why seokjin?

"is it my father?" jungkook asks when he was near enough. "yes, it's your majesty." yoongi immediately falls behind the princes, as taught by his own father. jungkook doesn't like it, they see each other more as friends. hell, they probably could have been more at some point– but yoongi's too busy in his duties.

and jungkook waits for a day he isn't. he knows the commander general eyes to marry one of his children to the royal family. he knows how it works.

seokjin doesn't like it, for the fact he knows yoongi mostly walks towards jungkook's side, and would not blink if seokjin's in danger. but he's kind enough, and they are the same age: so that is something.

"it's a big decision. it's going to be the last war in his reign, and the biggest one yet. last time this happened, they announced me the crown prince."

"ten years ago."

"what are you suggesting?" seokjin asked, looking at his 'brother'.

jungkook paused. his scent flared, and yoongi's hands flew to his lance. he didn't pull it out, but definitely waited for command.

maybe he knew what this zesty scent meant, because seokjin didn't– for all the time he had spent with jungkook in these 2 years. he just watched as jungkook pulled out a dagger and kept it right in front of seokjin's throat.

oh.

"you're 𝘯𝘰𝘵 going to be the crown prince," jungkook declares, as if it's a statement which is going to be true, or he will make it true.