three times seungcheol told jeonghan heâd be okay
one time jeonghan told seungcheol heâd be okay
and one time jeonghan really wished seungcheol could have.
seungcheol and jeonghan are both five years old; their hearts light and smiles brighter than the sun itself. pixies fly after them and fawns run beside them as they run barefoot on the path that brings them to the barrier between the fae realm and the human world.Â
âjeonghan-ah!â seungcheol pants out through a fit of laughter, âiâll make it there before you do!â
âno you wonât! not if iââ jeonghanâs words are cut short as his foot catches on a root and comes tumbling down.
tears pool in the smaller boyâs eyes, and he covers the scrape on his knee with his little hands when seungcheol kneels next to him and pats his head.
âhey! itâll be okay!â he says brightly, helping jeonghan up and throwing an arm around his shoulder, âthe healers will fix it and it wonât hurt anymore! donât cry, jeonghan-ah!â
when they stumble back to the palace, seungcheol holds jeonghanâs hand while the healers patch up his knee.
seungcheol and jeonghan are both sixteen years old; both of them studying hard so seungcheol can convince his father that heâll be a reliable king someday, and so jeonghan can become an alchemist like his mother. the autumn days are slowly starting to turn to winter, and jeonghanâs hair is currently a mix of vibrant orange and sleek silver.
âyou look like a tabby cat,â seungcheol voices out, setting his book of parchment paper on the marble table jeonghanâs sitting at, âare you sure youâre a fae?â
jeonghanâs only reply to that is a quick exhale through his nose, a poor excuse for a quiet laugh, and seungcheol immediately knows somethingâs bothering him.
âare you okay?â seungcheolâs eyebrows knit in confusion, reaching out to tuck a lock of jeonghanâs hair behind his ear.
âlook at this,â jeonghan says quietly, almost inaudibly, as he passes a sheet of parchment across the table.
across the sheet are big slash marks in black ink, each one notating a response jeonghan answered incorrectly. jeonghan has to put his head in his hands to avoid what he thinks will be disappointment written all over seungcheolâs face.
âjeonghan-ah,â seungcheol starts, pulling jeonghanâs hands from his face and holding them in his own, âitâs just one bad assignment. you havenât failed, and you wonât. your mother is the most talented and seeked-out healer in the northern realm. i donât doubt that she passed that talent onto you.â
seungcheol squeezes jeonghanâs hands in his own and smiles.
âhere, iâll help you correct it. youâll be okay.â
seungcheol and jeonghan are both twenty-one years old; seungcheol is days away from his coronation and jeonghan canât help but be worried about him. becoming fae of the northern fae realm isnât an easy feat. seungcheol studied meticulously for years, and spent a better half of his life showing his father that he would be a reliable king when the time came.
when jeonghan returns from his afternoon walk through the gardens, he returns to their shared chambers to find seungcheol in full regal dress, staring into the mirror.
with a small sigh, jeonghan steps forward and carefully slides the red silk cape from his shoulders and hangs it on the nearby mannequin.Â
âwhat if i canât do this, jeonghan-ah?â seungcheol whispers, eyes never leaving himself in the mirror, âwhat if i fail my people?â
jeonghan removes the crown from seungcheolâs head next, placing it carefully on itâs pedestal in the corner of the room.
âmy one,â jeonghan starts, âyour father wouldnât have chosen you if he didnât think you werenât ready.â
moving to stand in front of him, jeonghan cups seungcheolâs cheek in his hand and taps his skin with his index finger to make seungcheol look at him. when he does jeonghan smiles and leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
âyouâll be okay,â jeonghan whispers, âiâll be by your side through it all.â
seungcheol and jeonghan are still twenty-one years old; itâs six months into seungcheolâs reign when war breaks out between the northern and western realms. as tradition states, the king himself must lead his soldiers into battle, and the betrothed â regardless of gender â must stay at the palace to handle negotiations, and protect the people of the northâs capital if it came to that.
jeonghan watches seungcheol dress in his armor with a solemn expression on his face. he helps seungcheol clasp his chestplate into place, ties the leather cords on his bracers, and secures his sword in place for him.
silence hangs in the air between them as they stand facing each other; seungcheol looks at his loveâs hair â which is turning a light pastel blue as the spring season approaches â and jeonghan looks down at the floor.
âplease donât worry, iâllââ
âstop,â jeonghan whispers, shaking his head, âi donât understand why they wonât let me fight by your side. iâm king of the northern realm as well.â
seungcheol sighs and cups jeonghanâs face in his hands before speaking.
âi know, jeonghan-ah, but i was the heir to the throne,â seungcheol states, âand someone needs to be here at the palace, ready to take the throne, in caseâŠâ
âstop.â jeonghan breathes out, a bit louder, âi donât want to think about that.â
a small smile graces seungcheolâs lips, âiâll be okay. youâll be okay. weâll be okay. as long as i know youâre here, safe, waiting for me to come home â iâll be okay.â
âokay,â jeonghan nods, âplease be safe.â
the two share a kiss before the drums begin to sound, a signal for seungcheol to prepare to leave.
jeonghan watches from the highest balcony as seungcheol mounts a large, black horse and leads their soldiers from the gates of the city, with the flags of the north flapping in the breeze behind him.
that was the last time jeonghan saw seungcheol live and well.
jeonghan is twenty-three years old; he reigns over the north by himself now. his hair, which used to change with the seasons, has remained a black darker than the night sky for little over two years now.
the people donât know why, but rumor has it that when seungcheol was brought back to the palace, laid peacefully under a flag of the north with his sword resting on across his chest, jeonghanâs hair turned from a bright red to black within seconds. when people ask, jeonghan simply says that doesnât remember it himself.
everyone agrees that jeonghan has made a good king, maybe even a great one, as he takes the concerns and wellbeing of his people into consideration with every decision he makes. he smiles at the people, laughs when the townsfolkâs little daughters run up to him with little handfuls of flowers, and dances with the court at festivals and balls.
heâs content, is what heâs convinced himself as he sits upon a marble throne in the early hours of the afternoon. he meets with nobles from far corners of the lands, listens to the complaints of the people, he even manages to set the invitation list for the upcoming ball before night falls.
and thatâs when things crash down.Â
jeonghan stands on the same balcony he watched seungcheol leave from and looks up at the moon and stars, briefly wondering how jihoon still managed to make them look so bright when everything else around him looked dull now.
a red cape is draped loosely around his shoulders and it flaps languidly in the night breeze.
he doesnât know how much longer heâll be able to act so strongly in front of the people.
he doesnât know if heâll be okay.
itâs at that moment seungcheolâs voice floods his mind.
âyouâll be okay.â it says.
but it doesnât quite sound like him.
he wonders if heâs starting to forget the sound of seungcheolâs voice, and itâs that thought that breaks his composure faster than a mirror can shatter.
heâs on the marble floor in seconds, maybe milliseconds, desperately grasping for something to pull him back to reality.
he needs to be told that heâll be okay.
he needs seungcheol to tell him that heâll be okay.
đđđđđđđđđđđđđđđ @gorawrpanda @woozisvoice LOOK AT THIS. LOOK AT THIS & TELL ME IâM OKAY. BECAUSE IâM NOT.
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