Jimin stared at his hands after
scrubbing dozens of used cups and dirty plates in the tavern's kitchen.

"I am so hungry I could devour an entire horse right now," Jungkook sighed, draping himself across the table at which he and the prince had taken their seats. "I forgot how much I hated working."

Jimin looked up from his hands and perked a brow at the demigod. "Don't complain. I understand how you feel, but we won't be labourers for long. The moment Taehyung and Yoongi get back on their feet we'll resume our journey and things will go back to how they were."

Jungkook huffed. "No they won't." He mumbled. "Too much has changed... I don't even remember the person I was a week ago."

Jimin rested his chin on the palm of his hand, staring at the demigod in front of him. "Tell me what you feel."

Jungkook carefully met Jimin's eyes, a certain anxiousness showing in his pupils as though he feared his next words. "Rage," he murmured shyly. "Rage... and a need for revenge. A need to destroy every person that ever treated me and Jin wrongly.... that ever harmed us or betrayed us."

The prince hummed, biting his lips as he saw angry flames dance in the demigod's pupils.

"Those four days..." Jungkook continued darkly. "Those four days that I was stuck underground, I spent my time finally realizing how stupid I'd always been. I could've reminded the people to fear and worship the gods. Jin and I could've lived as kings. But instead he allowed people to walk all over us. I could've stopped it. But all he did was put other people above our own safety! He never cared if they beat me or called me names. No, no, I could never use violence. It wouldn't be fair."

"The world isn't fair," Jimin said calmly. "Justice does not exist... the best we can hope for is revenge."

Jungkook stared at the prince as different emotions coursed through him. "How I wished I'd known that before..." he whispered. "Everything would've been so different..."

"The Wise Prince? Don't make me laugh. That pretentious prick is nothing but a coward trying to stand in the old king's shoes."

Two waiters sitting a table away from Jimin and Jungkook, began speaking at an obnoxiously loud tone that filled the Inn. They shared a bottle of wine over their dinner, seeming slightly tipsy and somehow convinced people wanted to hear them speak.

"He's gone mad... have you heard of all the hangings in the capitol? And how he's closed off the city, locking everyone inside? Word is The Kind Prince has been taken hostage by some cult and the ransom is rumored to be almost half the treasury of Delos!"

Jimin turned his head away from the men, balling his fists under the table while Jungkook's lips parted in shock.

"Well consider us fucked then! There's no way that spineless prick is going to let his plaything die. I once heard a rumor saying he makes his little brother suck his tiny cock 'till he falls asleep. The assling can't even come without his baby brother holding his hand and we're supposed to call him our king?"

"Well I'm sure that queen-killing bastard doesn't mind. I can bet my right arm that fucker's backside has had every guard in the palace. You don't wanna know the stories I've heard."

Jungkook rapidly rose from his seat, his breath heavy, muscles flexed, and rage sizzling from his expression alone.

"Don't," Jimin said stoicly. "You can't."

"I'll take them outside for a talk... no one will know," Jungkook said through gritted teeth. "I won't let them speak of you like that."

Jimin's heart clenched and grew tighter in his chest, before it began to beat a little faster, causing his cheeks to flush strawberry red.

"Sit down silly demigod," he muttered under his breath. "You'll draw attention to yourself."

Jungkook hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the impudent men, before sitting down with a thud, and pushing his toungue against the inside of his cheek in dismay.

There was a tension that hung in the air, and only when the two waiters had finished their meal and decided to call it a night, did Jimin dare show his face again freely.

"Jimin..." the demigod breathed worriedly.

The prince had tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes shimmering in the light of the candle on their table, yet he was smiling wildly without sadness. "I just... I just can't believe I have left that life behind," the prince sniffed and chuckled. "I am free... I might be a worker but I am free and it feels better than I ever thought it would."

Jungkook smiled back weakly, before concern once more painted his face. "Those rumours..."

"They aren't true," Jimin said quickly, shaking his head. "Gods no..."

The prince wiped his face clean of tears and took a  deep breath. "My brother is very attached to me," he said with an edge of bitterness in his tone. "They say I look like the queen, don't they? I have her face, her mannerisms, her 'kindness'. All these things that made my father hate me, because I showed him the woman I killed every day."

Jimin swallowed thickly before he continued. "With Namjoon it was the opposite. Instead of hating me for how I resembled our mother he only grew closer to me because of it. And as I got older I felt like... he needed me to become her. He needed me to hug him to sleep and kiss his forehead when he was upset. He demanded my guidance, my presence... at times he may have wanted more, but in those moments he was just scared and confused. He sees in me this ideal version of a mother he never had... and since I am the one that took her away, I had no choice but to give him the attention he craved..."

The prince squinted. "But for people to go and dirty that..."

"It... it sounds like your brother loved you very much..." Jungkook said, though there was clear judgement in his tone.

"He is obsessed with me," Jimin blurted out. "And on top of that he is a worthless king. I had always hoped he'd find a way to kill his emotions in time before his crowning, but now Delos is being cared for by a scared child...."

The demigod nibbled on his lips before speaking. "Well... are you... are you going to do something about that?"

Jimin's eyes shifted up at the demigod, glinting as a smirk grew along his lips.

Right at that moment, the hefty inn-keeper walked up to the two men, carrying two steaming plates of fish and bread that smelled divine.

"You two worked hard today. Here is your earned supper. You can grab a bottle of wine from the cabinet yourself. Tomorrow I'll need you back downstairs when I ring the bell."

Jungkook's eyes widened, and he nodded eagerly as he stared at the plates of food.

But Jimin furrowed his brows as the plates were laid down in front of them.

"Excuse me, but we will need food for our friends as well. They are sick and malnourished and-"

"Then bring them to a hospital or sell them," the inn-keeper interrupted, barely sparing the prince an eye. "I'm not giving away food for free. Now that Apollo has abandoned us, we have seen the last harvest. Be grateful or leave, it is up to you."

With those words the inn-keeper waggled off to bring food to his other workers, leaving Jimin seething in his seat as he stared holes into the man's backrolls.

Jungkook pouted like a helpless pup, speaking up only after it felt appropriate. "This means... I don't get to eat this... doesn't it?"

Jimin filled his lungs with a dark glare, before rising from his seat and picking up his plate. "Come," he said sternly. "We are bringing it to Tae and Yoongi."

______________

"You should've told me... silly boy."

Yoongi sat by the window as he watched Taehyung's sleeping figure, the warm light of a candle making him appear almost healthy.

"Why didn't you tell me?" The man whispered, his brows furrowing as fresh tears began to build in his eyes. "Did you think I would be scared? Horrified? Of you? Did you honestly think that was possible?"

Yoongi huffed, shaking his head. "Fool..." he mumbled. "Remember those springdays of our youth? When the four of us would play catch the bandit beneath the pink blossom trees until sundown?"

Yoongi's gaze traveled towards the window, at the starry night outside that had lasted for what felt like an eternity already.

"Jimin, he was always the hardest to catch," murmured the king with a fond smile. "He was so good at that damn game that it never failed to annoy me."

Yoongi grimaced. "Namjoon, poor lad, he usually had to leave halfway through the game to trail after his father like a lost duckling."

The king's gaze drifted back to the redheaded beauty on the bed. "And then there was you..." he whispered. "In your silk, sapphire robe and sparkling jewlery, making you visible from a mile away even thought the whole point of the bloody game was to merge with one's surroundings."

Yoongi smiled warmly. "You were so bad at that dumb game..." he chuckled. "It was as if you simply didn't have it in you to hide. As if it went against everything you are, like a diamond trying to dim itself."

The king's eyes softened. "You were always the first one that was caught. But I remember how when it was my turn to catch, and I would find you first as well, you would pull a pout and flutter your beautiful eyes at me, because you knew how terribly weak it made my knees."

Yoongi sighed contently with tears in his eyes. "You would drag me close to you, giggle softly, and whisper in my ear. "If you pretend you didn't see me, I'll give you a kiss Yoongi."

Yoongi's lips quivered as a shudder ambushed him, the memory of Taehyung's breath hitting his skin still having an effect on his body to this day. "It was so long ago..." he began to cry, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. "Long before my parents died... long before my arranged marriage... long before the rumors and the promises and the fights. Back when you could still kiss my cheek underneath the pink blossom trees, and I could still hold your hand and dream of being able to call you mine one day..."

The king bit harshly into his lower lip to stiffle his sobs, but his soft wails still filled the room, and he couldn't keep them silenced.

"Yoongi?"

Knocks on the door disturbed Yoongi's grief, and the king quickly dried his face. "Come in," he said with a stuffy nose.

Jimin gently opened the door, pushing into the room with his plate of food while Jungkook peeked over his shoulder like a curious child.

"You look dreadful my friend," Jimin said with a concerned look.

"Thank you, Jimin," Yoongi muttered, smiling weakly. "You do know how to cheer up a comrade."

Jimin tried a half-smile, but the prince had not lied. The king's skin was grey, and it was obvious that the man's wounds were seriously infected. He had a high fever, and looked generally unwell.

"We brought wine to treat your wounds," the prince said, coming further into the room. He placed the plate of food on a table and knelt down before the king.

"It won't help anymore, Jimin," Yoongi said calmly, keeping his gaze set on the black curtain that had wrapped itself around the world. "The wound is infected, and I will die."

"You will not," Jimin said sharply, rolling up the king's loose trousers. "Jungkook, the wine."

The demigod hurriedly handed Jimin the glass bottle and stared at the king's wounds with widened eyes.

The cuts on his legs were red and swollen at the edges, and greenish-coloured pus was leaking from the lacerations.

Jimin ripped a piece of clothes from his tunic and doused it in wine before carefully bringing it to Yoongi's right leg.

"Fuck! Shit- don't! Jimin!" The king bellowed in pain.

"I have to Yoongi, please." Jimin wrapped the drained piece of cloth around the man's leg. "Just keep breathing. If you wake Tae with your shouting you will worry him."

Yoongi pulled up his nose and bit into his lower lip.

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth, glancing at Taehyung's sleeping figure  before closing his eyes.

"Do what you must..."