↳ Index [Chapter 01 - Returned Differently]
Pairing: Army General!Taehyung x Royal Healer!Reader
Genre: strangers to lovers!AU, Arranged Marriage!AU, Hurt and Comfort, Romance, future Smut
Warnings: ptsd from war, nightmares, finding comfort where you least expect, aloof!Taehyung who hides his feelings, yearning for comfort, medical massages, non-sexual nudity, old-fashioned traditions, idiotic kings, this is not historically accurate
Wordcount: 12.5k | Minors DNI you will be blocked & reported
a/n: i'm really excited to start this story with Tete <3 it's been so long since i wrote a story with him :( i really can't wait to explore this universe and story with you besties, so please talk to me in the comments & tags hehe ❤ also i repent for taking so long, writer's block hit me like a bitch in the middle of it
You remember the day you lost your freedom to him.
It rained and the wedding was held in the palace. The king blessed the marriage. The people envied you. You were scared.
Your fate was sealed the very moment you were born. As daughter of the First Royal Healer, you were supposed to continue the family profession and therefore also the court’s tradition of marriage. As First Royal Healer you would marry an unmarried royal army general once you were twenty years of age. It has been tradition ever since the dawn of time and probably won’t change any time soon.
You watched many generals come and go as you grew up, always having your fate in the back of your mind. Most were old, so old, and perverted and they scared you. The thought that they could become your husband one day made you cry many nights as a child. Life always took care of it for you.
Until it came to him: Taehyung, son of the late army general and first cousin of the princess. Life didn’t take care of him for you, life made you grow up and therefore sealed your fate.
You were supposed to marry Taehyung, the most feared warrior and ruthless commander of the royal army. You always went the other way – or avoided his ways all together – when he walked the palace paths. He scared you so much. You knew the tales of his battles, you knew that the only language he spoke was that of blood and you knew that you were not who he wished to marry.
Taehyung was five years older than you, and as a child, you were witness to many of his teenage love affairs in court. You were definitely not his type, so you always told yourself.
It has been five years since your marriage to Taehyung and you finally have to accept it. You haven’t seen him for four years and three hundred sixty four days, but life is about to change. Two days ago, his division returned from being stationed in the conquered provinces.
The war is over! So the people cheered in the streets. The general has won!
Taehyung brought foreign jewellery for you. You accepted them politely and allowed him to kiss your hand. He smelled of strong alcohol and strange tobacco, and a beard covered his face. He seemed tired. Really, really tired. That afternoon you inspected his body, alongside his inferiors and treated his sore muscles with a medicinal massage. He didn’t sleep in the same bed as you, but sent for you in the morning.
You enter his chambers, passing two guards and his servant boys.
“You sent for me, Sire”, you address him formally because he was still higher in rank than you.
You were the daughter of a former army general and a lady of second degree, while he was still the royal cousin and son of the king’s sister. You feared that if you did not show him respect, he would punish you. Just as he punishes his enemies.
He is bathing in the hot spring outside, looking over his shoulder at the sound of your voice.
Your name falls over his lips. He steps out of the water entirely bare. You look to the side with a gasp. You have never seen him naked before because he had to leave for the war before you could consummate your marriage.
He re-enters the bedroom, closing the knot of his rope. His face is clean shaven today, his once dirty hair washed. His servants close the door behind him, then leave with the two guards.
“Did you have breakfast already?” he asks. He speaks in a deep, baritone timbre, fitting for a man such as him. He seems a lot younger without a beard and his face is just as handsome as you remembered it to be.
“I did. Earlier with the other healers.”
He sits down on the ground and picks up a pair of chopsticks. He gestures to the sitting pillow opposite of him.
“Sit.”
You hesitate for a moment, but listen in the end. The table is set with breakfast. Rice, a variety of meats mostly grilled, fried eggs and a frightening lack of vegetables.
“What?” he asks, studying your displeased expression.
“Nothing.”
“Speak.”
“I am speaking merely as a healer, but this is a worrying lack of vegetables.”
“I don’t like vegetables.”
“Vegetables are good for you. They are full of vitamins and nutrients, and they contain fibre, which supports gut health, softens the stool and-”
Taehyung sets the chopsticks down, lifting his hand. You close your mouth.
“Don’t talk about shit while I’m eating. If I wanted this kind of talk again, I’d go back to the frontline.”
“Forgive me, I spoke without thinking.”
He picks up where he left off, ripping meat straight off the bone with his teeth. He chews loudly, washing it all down with ale and runny eggs. He eats like someone who didn’t have to care about table manners for a very long time. It does not surprise you. Your brother was a foot soldier in the army and he never really came back after his journey to the frontlines. His body returned, but his mind never really left the trenches. He lives in a mountain retreat these days and is only allowed visitors twice a year.
Your parents say that this is what is best for him, but you asked the monks once about your brother’s feelings on the matter. They said he weeps at night upon being cast aside even though he did his duty. You want to bring him back home when your parents are no more.
“Eat if you’re hungry”, Taehyung says between big chews and loud swallows.
“Thank you, but I must politely decline.”
“More for me then”, he says and reaches over the table to take your bowl of rice. He shoves a big spoonful of it into his mouth, following it up with meat.
He does not seem very starved, on the contrary his muscles are well filled-out and his face is sculpted; he must eat healthy portions as the army general. You conclude that he simply lacks table manners.
“Why have you called for me?” you ask because you do not see any physical ailments on him.
“Do I have to have a reason to call for my wife?”
So he didn’t ask for your presence as a healer, but as his wife. It makes more sense but also makes you a lot more nervous.
“I see.”
He swallows the bite and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. You truly hope that he isn’t expecting you to lay with him right now.
“Why did you never send me letters?” he asks, surprising you.
“I didn’t think that you wanted me to.”
“I did. I would have appreciated distractions.”
“I am sorry”, you whisper, lowering your head. Will he hit you now?
He reaches over the table, forcing you to shrink in nervousness. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him.
“Perhaps you can remember it for the future”, he says, pulling his hand back with the meat he merely grabbed.
You relax, nodding your head.
“I will.”
He clears half of the pheasant drumstick in one go.
“Tell me something.”
“What should I tell you?” his curiosity surprises you.
“You’re the daughter of General Minjun and Lady Shila, are you not?”
“I am.”
“My father and your father served in the army together.”
“Yes, they did. My father would always say what an honour it is to fight alongside Princess Taeyeon’s husband. His death brought great sadness to our house.”
“My father was a good man.”
“He was.”
Taehyung does not seem particularly sad about his father's passing. But then, he does not seem to feel much of anything. Or show it at least.
“How have you lived? What did you do?” he asks.
“Oh, uhm.” You scratch the side of your neck. “Not much, really. I helped people, healed and nurtured them. I lived life as I always did, as a healer.”
“Mhm. Did you read anything?”
“Only medical journals and research writings. There is one, which- nevermind.”
“Tell me.”
“Really?”
He nods his head. His face is stoic, his expression cold and yet he voices interest. His behaviour is most peculiar to you.
“Uhm, the paper talked about using the resin of pine to create medicine.”
“Pine resin?”
“Yes, apparently if distilled, it can alleviate pain. The research is still in its beginnings however and could turn out to be a failure.”
“And you found this interesting?”
“I did.”
“I see. Do you find medical papers interesting in general?”
“I would say that I do.”
He nods his head in understanding.
“Why?” you ask quietly.
“I wanted to know.”
“Does it disappoint you?”
“No, but it also doesn’t surprise me.”
“I see.”
You look to the side. He must think you are so terribly boring. You are scared that his distaste for you will make him violent. It would fit with what people tell each other. Taehyung never smiles, he does not show emotion except anger, he is a man of violence and rage.
“Have you learned what you did to me in one of your books?” he continues his interest.
“Do you mean the massage?”
He nods his head.
“No, I learned it in a temple. My master trained me in it for a year when I was fifteen and then I continued to improve myself as I worked by my mother’s side.”
“It worked well.”
“That’s good. Your body is very stiff, it will still take a few sessions to fix the tension.”
“When can you work on me again?”
“Today, but-”
“Good”, he says and stands up to open his rope.
Because you are sitting, you would come face to face with his intimate parts first. You quickly cover your eyes.
“Wait, not so fast.”
He halts, cocking his brow. You stand up just in case, averting your eyes to the side.
“I have to warm the oils first and mix the correct herbs. I also have some patients I need to tend to.”
“I am also a patient.”
“Yes, you are but you are also not someone with stitches that need checking or inflamed limbs that need reapplying of ointments. Besides, the king will wake soon and expect me to massage his feet.”
“I understand.”
“I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry.”
“Why should I be angry?”
“Because…”
“I told you that I understand.” He closes the rope tightly and sits down. “You can leave if you are busy. We will talk when you have time.”
“Yes, Sire.”
You do not see Taehyung until the sun has set. The day kept you very busy because the return of the division also brought back a lot of wounded soldiers. You and your team of healers truly have your hands full in providing for them. Volunteers and worried parents help out as well.
The hour is calm and your healer’s office is empty. It is located in the outer ring of the palace, surrounded by herb gardens and hot springs which you use to treat patients and heat your floors. The candles paint everything golden, it is finally so quiet around you.
You dry your hands after washing them in a bowl. The skin of your knuckles is cracked because you had to keep washing your hands today. You apply moisturising ointment, lost in thought.
The sound of your doors being opened draws your eyes to them. The sight of Taehyung instantly sends a jolt through you. You forgot about him!
“May I enter?” he asks.
“Sire, I was just about to, uhm, begin warming up the oils”, you stutter, stumbling to your feet. “Please, do come in.”
He leaves his shoes by the door. His steps are pillowed by socks. He seems to drag his left foot just a little bit.
“Did you forget about me?” he asks.
“Ah, haha no. No of course not, I was simply very busy.”
“Mhm.”
“May I offer you some tea while we wait for the oil to warm?”
“Yes.”
You get a second cup and prepare his’ first. Taehyung does not wait for you to drink. Truly, this man has lost any sense of manners. He studies you, clearly aware of your distaste, and sets the cup down.
“May I?” he offers, pointing at the tea pot.
“Uh. Yes, of course.”
He takes it from you and pours the tea into your cup, furrowing his brows in concentration. He pours too much, cursing under his breath.
“It’s alright. Thank you.”
“Mhm”, he nods his head sternly and sets the tea pot aside.
Because he practically made the cup overflow, you have to lower your head and slurp from it until it is possible to lift it.
Taehyung touches the back of his head, looking apologetic about putting you in such an embarrassing situation.
You lift the cup to your lips and drink elegantly, hiding your abashment behind your hand. He studies them and how delicately they hold the cup. He lowers his eyes to his own hands. They are covered in blood, dirty and bruised and rugged. The screams are so loud.
“Sire?”
Taehyung flinches. His ears ring, his vision clears up. His hands are clean and the room is quiet.
“Are you feeling alright?”
He hides his hands under the table, straightening his back.
“I am.”
“You seemed to go somewhere for a moment.”
“I am fine.” He looks to the side, searching for something he can change the topic with. “When will the oil be ready?”
You stand up to check on it. Taehyung relaxes with the distance.
“Very soon. You can tell me where it hurts the most in the meantime.”
“I fell off my horse months ago and hurt my hip. It healed, but the opposite side started to hurt more and more.”
“It makes sense. You probably tried to evade the pain and therefore overused the other side. Is it the left hip?”
“How did you know?”
“You drag your left foot a little.”
He widens his eyes, “I do?”
“Worry not. I only see such things because I am a healer. I am sure that other people do not notice.”
He lowers his gaze, touching the back of his head. He seems uncharacteristically nervous. You gesture to the massage table.
“You may undress yourself and lie down on your stomach. You can cover your private parts with the blanket.”
You stare at the oil until the noises of him stop. He lied down as you instructed, fumbling with his own hands.
“The massage I will give tonight will not be comfortable, but you may tell me if the pain is too intense.”
He nods his head wordlessly.
It seems that not a lot of sensations affect him, or better, he learned not to let it show. His body stays tense as you pour the warm oil and it stays tense as you spread it on his back. There is nothing. Like a frozen statue he receives the treatment.
“Try to relax your muscles.”
The tension finally lessens, assessing the state of him becomes easier. Finding an unaffected spot is harder than finding one needing care. His back, albeit muscular, is riddled in knots and the tension spreads far into his arms and legs. Just as you had assumed, the most tension lies in the muscles and tendons responsible for movement on his left hip.
You begin to work your way down his back. Your hands are tired from a long day, but when you work on healing a person all exhaustion ceases to exist. Taehyung is no different and soon you find yourself in tune with his body and the blocked energies deep within his knotted muscles.
He stores trauma in his lower back and physical pain in his legs. It all correlates, it connects and plays a part in his physical state. You work on them before working on the problem area because it is important that everything can flow properly.
He is quiet throughout most of the massage until you begin work on the truly knotted parts. Your massage begins on his thigh, travelling from the inside to the outside.
You lift your eyes at his sharp inhale.
“Focus your breathing on the parts most painful. Allow it to flow through the sensation and let it carry the discomfort away.”
He breathes deeper afterwards, with more intent and focus. You feel the flow of energy clearly, breathing with him as you break apart the knots.
The massage travels to his bottom next. You stop for a moment.
“I have to uncover you for the next part.”
“Do what you must.”
You lift the blanket from his left buttock with a nervous tinge in your stomach. It is peculiar because you normally do not feel nervous during this part with other patients. Perhaps it is different because he is your husband and seeing him bare feels…sinful.
You push down the unprofessional feelings and begin the massage. He is just another patient right now. You have to be better than this.
Taehyung seems unaffected by the nudity, breathing with intent as you work the tense muscles.
Then you reach his tailbone and his breath hitches, followed by a noise. You cover most of his bottom again, applying warmth on his tailbone to get him used to touch.
“The next part will be the most uncomfortable. You can take breaks if needed.”
“I can handle it.”
“There is no shame in needing breaks.”
He huffs air, trying to brave through it at first until you press down on a part again which has been hurting for so long. A painful groan escapes him against his will. The pain continues, dragging another noise out of him.
“Focus your breathing on the pain.”
Your thumbs glide along the affected muscles, digging deep because the issue sits just as deep. He must have walked in constant pain for months.
You press between two muscles. Taehyung cries out, pulling his leg up against his control.
“Please extend your leg to avoid strain”, you order, guiding it back into its original position. Having a patient cry out will never get easier to bear.
You return to the previous spot. He shoots up to his elbows, dropping his head with gritted teeth.
“Not there”, he gets out.
“Breathe.”
You feel for him. Body broken and twisted because a king wants more land. As the general he shoulders so much more. He has to walk where no other wants to walk. And carry what is far too heavy.
You lessen the pressure but keep focus on the same spot. You must work on it in order for him to get better.
Taehyung drops his head, hitting the bed.
“I know that it hurts. Imagine how life will be without pain. Think of the future as a distraction.”
It works very little. Taehyung suffers through it. He tries to flee, but never knows where to go because it is inescapable. He doesn’t want to make sounds, yet he does. He is too distracted by the pain to feel shame about his noises.
Wherever you work, it doesn’t stop hurting. The screams around him are so loud, never ending and accusatory. He tastes blood and smells men pissing themselves as they die. The deeper your thumbs dig, the less he sees reality.
He had a friend once. His head rolls past his feet like it did two years ago. He made another friend not long after. His guts spill endlessly as Taehyung tries to put them back inside his body. He had someone he should have protected. He tries to make out what he wants to tell him before coughing up blood. Over and over again he tries to save them. Over and over again he relives his failures.
“Stop”, he begs, “please.”
You come back to your senses, lifting your hands from his body. Tears hit his skin. You wipe your eyes, confused on how they got here. The energy inside you is so shaken up, so confused and broken. It is suffocating.
Taehyung sits up and stumbles off the bed. He sees your tears and the tremor in your hands. It embarrasses him.
“Thank you for the session”, he says, gathering his clothes hastily. He only slips into his dress, carrying the rest. Fleeing is all he wants to do. You are the most frightening thing which has ever happened to him.
“Sire, you shouldn’t walk around already. Please rest for a while”, you say, grasping your own arms to anchor yourself. You are so shaken.
“I will rest in my room. Thank you for the service, Mistress”, he says and leaves without putting on his shoes.
The door slides closed and you watch his silhouette stumble down the path aimlessly until distance swallows it.
“Oh, heavens”, you drop to your knees, having to curl into a ball. It aches. You knew from the assessment that he stores his trauma in his lower back, but you did not expect it to be so suffocatingly deep once you actually began working it to the surface.
What happened to him in those five years?
The king requires the presence of the general for breakfast. Taehyung does not want to see him. He does not want to face the very reason why he is plagued by nightmares. He does not want to look into his face and see how unaffected the war left him while thousands suffer still.
But he has to face him. And so he knocks, hoping that for some reason the king refuses to see him.
“Come in!”
Taehyung enters, bowing as he slips out of his shoes.
“Ah nephew, finally. Sit down”, the king orders, crawling out of bed.
Ten servants and just as many guards surround them, studying Taehyung curiously.
Taehyung removes his sword and sits down by the floor table. After spending years on the battlefield, Taehyung exudes an aura of intimidation even dressed in court clothing and sat at the table. The king does not match it, but believes that he does.
A lavish meal is laid between them. Different cuts of beef, rice and grains, eggs prepared in various ways and fermented vegetables each spiced differently.
A young girl, she must be not much older than ten, prepares plum tea for them. Another serves soup.
“You are more difficult to get an audience with than me”, the king says and laughs, having to cough right after.
“Forgive me, I have been busy.”
“What can be more important than your king?”
“I had to make sure my men were taken care of.”
“You mean my men.”
Taehyung grinds his teeth. The king did not spend five years in the trenches with them, Taehyung did. He has no right to call them his property when Taehyung had their very lives in his hands each day. One wrong tactical move and he would have sent thousands to their deaths. The king does not understand what it means to call a division His. He thinks it means possession, when in reality it means responsibility. Something the king, like most men in power, will never take.
“Of course. Your men”, Taehyung presses out, voice cold and distant.
A sense of awe goes through the room as the cowering servants watch how Taehyung talks to the king. The stories are true. Nothing can shake the general, not even the king’s presence.
“Now tell me already, how are the colonies?” the king asks and sets down his metal spoon rather loudly.
A sharp ringing deafens Taehyung, for a moment everything is blurry. He attempts to breathe but it is impossible. The doors open, revealing the sight of you. The state of him dies out slowly, reality returns.
“Good morning, Your Majesty”, you say, getting to your knees to bow.
“You’re late.”
“Please forgive me, Your Majesty. There were trauma patients that needed my urgent care. They are-”
“Just get on with it already”, the king interrupts you and leans back in his floor chair. He drops his feet on the edge of the table, gesturing to a servant to feed him.
You crawl to him, clutching the massage oil tightly to your chest. You try not to, but still make eye contact with Taehyung for a brief moment. It is obvious that you feel embarrassed to be seen right now.
Taehyung averts his eyes, glaring at the king instead. He has no care in the world, eating what others feed him while you have to massage his feet. You are the first royal healer, the very reason why the palace’s hospital runs smoothly, and you have to do the job of a servant.
Judging by how relaxed the king seems, he does not need it for medical reasons. Taehyung feels his blood boil.
“Speak, nephew. I want stories of the colonies”, the king orders, waving his hand.
“There is not much to tell. We pushed people out of their homes and built monuments on their ruins.”
“Argh, tell me something cheerful. Military stuff does not interest me. How are the women?”
“Not much different from anywhere else.”
“Describe them to me. How are they shaped?”
“Like women.”
The king opens his eyes.
“You think me a fool, child? Paint me a picture.”
Taehyung tightens his jaw.
“I cannot tell you much, your majesty. The women I met either fled or were killed by your men. The very few which remained, stayed within their villages and avoided my ways.”
“Tch. How does it smell up there? Does it really smell like fresh pine?”
“No. It smelled of burning corpses and rotten flesh. Whenever there was a battle, the air stank of blood for days.”
“I don’t need to know about military movements. I want stories of my colonies. Tell me about the food. How is it?”
“The rations were small and many had to share. It would help the men greatly if we increased the supplies in the future.”
“Argh, military stuff. Will you stop? I want to know how the colonies taste.”
Taehyung grinds his teeth, taking a deep breath before he can say something he will regret.
“The meat we hunted before the venison got sparse was not much different than ours. The grain we took from the farmers was hard to boil. The ground was difficult to grow vegetables in because fighting hardened it.”
“Stop.”
Everyone in the room freezes. The king seems displeased. He drags the feeding servant closer and kicks your arm.
“Not you two. Feed me more and you apply less pressure. It hurts.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Taehyung balls his hands to fists under the table. He outmatches the king’s dark glare.
“You’re lucky that you are my sister’s son, General, otherwise I would ban you for your terrible story telling.”
“It saddens me that my stories displeased you, your majesty, I believed honesty would delighten you”, Taehyung says sarcastically.
The king believes it, gesturing him to leave.
“I will call for you again. Think of better stories until then.”
“your majesty”, Taehyung stands up without a bow. He towers over the king, taking up more space in this room than the king ever could.
“What?”
“Will you visit the wounded today? Seeing their efforts appreciated would greatly increase their chances at recovery.”
“Must I? The infirmary stinks.”
“They fought in your name. The least you can do is pay them a visit.”
The room grows heavy in shock. The general is truly a fearless warrior.
“Fine. If I must.”
Taehyung leaves without another word. Quite frankly, his men would be better off if they never saw the king. But he knows how much they look up to him. They would see honour in being visited by him. All their pains, the nightmares, the missing limbs and lost innocence would be worth it if they knew that the king appreciated their efforts. Taehyung wishes he had their level of naivety.
Taehyung’s way of handling the king keeps replaying in your head during your entire shift. You have never seen someone go head to head with the king, let alone win. Taehyung was fearless in there. It was frightening and inspiring.
You cross the corner, laying eyes on the beforementioned. He was sitting on a bench before but rises to his feet at the view of you. Unlike with the king, he bows his head at you.
“Sire, what are you still doing here?”
“I waited for you.”
“For me?”
He walks next to you, keeping an arm’s length of distance out of respect.
“Does the king always treat you like this?”
“I do not mind. It is an honour to serve him”, you say your well rehearsed line.
You and he leave the royal wing behind.
“You shouldn’t allow him to treat you this way.”
You almost mess up, stifling the disbelieved chuckle at the very last moment. He still notices because he is way more attentive than you expected him to be. An unfair assumption because he is known for his insanely clever military strategies. Being attentive comes naturally to him.
“What?” he persists, meeting your eyes with an intimidating intensity.
“Forgive me, Sire, but you say this very easily.”
“Why? You are the first royal healer. It should not be your duty to massage his dirty feet.”
“Sire”, you gasp, stumbling to a stop with your hand thrown over your mouth. Your eyes run over the court panickedly.
He embarrassed you. Taehyung turns to face you. Your eyes are widened in shock.
“I spoke without thinking. Forgive me”, he says. He does not fear that you would betray him to the king. He apologises for putting you in an uncomfortable situation. You should not have to listen to him curse.
You lower your eyes bashfully and snicker.
“I forgive you”, you confess like you were embarrassed then quickly turn to continue walking, smoothing over your hair to calm yourself. Your steps seem lighter.
Taehyung follows you. Your reaction was unexpected but pleasant.
“I thank you for looking out for me, but I can handle it. I spend most of my day helping the ones who really need me, it is fulfilling enough.”
“So you find purpose in your work?”
“I do. It is hard and there are things I struggle with emotionally, but it is all worth it in the end when I can watch my patients leave the hospital healthy.”
The stagnant difference between you and him draws him in. While you give new life to people, he takes it away. He feels jealous of you for finding such a good purpose, but he also feels grateful. At least you did not to fight through each day during those five years apart.
“It must feel nice to know that you changed a person’s life for the better.”
“it does. What about you, Sire? Was it really as terrible as you told the king?”
“Yes.”
“I expected as much. Please forgive me for intruding, but I felt a lot of trauma stored in your back last night. How are you feeling this morning?”
“I cannot tell. My hip hurts less however.”
Sensing that he does not want to speak about his feelings any deeper, you also change your focus on the professional aspect of the conversation.
“Is there any soreness?”
“Yes, a lot. And it is bruised in parts.”
“Soreness and bruising during the first couple of sessions is normal because I essentially have to break apart the muscles so they can heal correctly again.”
“I don’t mind the discomfort. When I got out of bed today, my leg hadn’t fallen asleep as much.”
“Very good. Circulation will improve as we continue the sessions. That is, if you wish to continue them.”
“I do. But I…” He hesitates.
“Yes, Sire?”
Taehyung puts his hand on your elbow and ducks into a shadowy corner, away from prying eyes. He is but a hand away from you, looking at you intensely yet also softly. These are the eyes of a man who knew violence all his life and now tries to be gentle with a woman.
“Will it happen again?” he whispers.
You know what he insinuates.
“Perhaps. As I said, you seem to store a lot of trauma in this spot and massaging it can release it.”
“I understand.”
“But you do not have to worry. I have worked with patients such as yourself in the past. Feeling emotional can be part of the healing journey for many. There is no shame in it.”
“We will hold the sessions after your other patients regardless.”
He does not want witnesses.
“Of course.”
“Thank you.” He looks over his shoulder then back at you. “As for what you witnessed last night, I was tired and therefore couldn’t think clearly. I am perfectly capable of fulfilling my duties.”
“I know, you do not need to worry.”
“Good.”
He tugs you and him back into the light and continues the way as if nothing happened. You follow, pushing down your flustered tingles. You have never been pulled into a secret corner before. The situation was highly alarming for your poor nerves.
“It is important that you implement a routine of physical activity alongside the massages. If you have time, you can come to my office later and we shall discuss your treatment plan”, you say.
“I understand. When do you want me?”
He is a lot more cooperative than you believed him to be. It is a pleasant surprise.
“Well, if you ask me. I will be busy in the infirmary until two and then will take a late lunch in my office. I should have time afterwards.”
“We can eat together.”
He seems to cherish shared mealtime. You are very surprised by this.
“If you can wait until two.”
“I can.”
“Very well, then we can meet at two in the office.”
“I understand. I will be there.” He bows his head. “Until then, Mistress.”
“Sire.”
He leaves you to go the opposite way. You watch him for a while. You truly cannot analyse his character correctly. He seems so intimidating and scary, yet he also hides a more tender side. He is rude to the king yet considerate with you. His walk instils respect yet when he walked with you he matched your pace. His true character is impossible to make out.
You look forward to lunch. You haven’t eaten since breakfast at sunrise and walking is difficult by now. The thought that Taehyung will share it with you does not affect you right now because you are too hungry to care.
He waits in front of your door, napping on the bamboo bench with his head against the wooden pillar.
“Sire?”
He does not stir and so you bend down to tap his shoulder.
He wakes in a flinch.
“Oh!” you stumble back.
He scans the surroundings, face contorted in alarm until calm settles on it.
“Forgive me. It wasn’t my intention to scare you.”
“Don’t worry”, he croaks, clearing his throat. He rises to his feet, smoothing out his skirt. Distant stillness returns to his features.
“And forgive me for running late. We had an incident as you can see”, you say, pointing at your blood smeared apron.
He furrows his brows.
“What happened?”
“Jungkook ripped his stitches open in a fit of mania. We had to close his wound again.”
His jaw tightens.
“How is he?”
“We gave him something that will keep him calm. The stitches are closed.”
“Good. He had a brother.”
“He talks about him a lot.”
“He does.”
It does not have to be spoken to be understood that the poor man lost his brother in this senseless war. You share a moment of silence for the fallen and his suffering brother.
“Do you want to come in?”
“Yes.”
“Please excuse the chaos and get comfortable by the window. I will quickly freshen up.”
Taehyung was seated by the window but rises to his feet when you join him.
“Please stay seated.”
You share a small bamboo table, facing each other. One of your servants brought the food while you were washing up. It is covered under a clay dome to keep warm. He waited for you, unlike with the tea last night.
“I’m starving”, you say and lift the dome, “mhm this looks amazing.”
He finally reveals his food as well. He seems confused, perhaps even a little upset.
“What’s the matter?”
“There is no meat.”
“No, but there is food which is good for you. A balanced meal with everything you need.”
He grumbles, giving you a glare.
“I promise that it tastes good. Try it.”
Like a pouting boy, he picks up the chopsticks and pokes them into the noodles.
“I don’t know.”
“Just try them”, you chuckle.
Taehyung does it very groggily. His features soften with the first bite and he seems more eager for the second.
“And?”
He nods his head, shoving the pine nut noodles into his mouth.
“I knew that you would like them. This is a very delicious meal, I always look forward to eating it.”
The noodles are made out of buckwheat flour. Mountain herbs and zucchini give them a green colour and a rich taste. The pine nuts are grounded into a silky sauce and compliment the nutty flavour of the noodles. A bowl of bone broth with vegetables and potato dumplings serves to warm the body. A variety of fermented vegetables give the otherwise gentle meal various tastes and sensations. Soy braised eggs are perfectly balanced and enhance the flavours all together.
You told your cooks to prepare this meal specifically because you knew that it would be the perfect introduction to healthier food. It was the right decision because during the entire meal, Taehyung speaks not even one word. You do not mind because you aren’t in the mood to talk either.
“May I offer you some tea?” you ask after lunch.
“Yes.” He watches you pour the tea. “Thank you. May I?”
“You may. Be careful not to spill again.”
Taehyung glares at you, making you lower your head. His soft chuckle instantly relaxes you again.
“Manners were useless at the frontline.”
“I figured. Thank you. Oh, a perfect pour.”
“Yes, I am more capable than I look.”
“I underestimated your tea pouring abilities, Sire”, you joke and finally meet his eyes. They look… happy. As if he was smiling without using his mouth.
You raise your cup. Taehyung mirrors what you do, clinking cups with you.
“Cheers”, he says and even though it is not what one does or says during such situations, you do not have the heart to correct him.
“Cheers.”
He drinks and sets it down.
“A good brew.”
“Thank you, Sire.”
“Mhm. Did you have time to think of my treatment plan?” he asks.
“Of course. I will get it.”
He did not move out of his position once you returned. As if his resting position was statue-like stillness. Like a tool waiting to be used. You hand him a sheet of his weekly plan and drink some tea as he reads it carefully.
“Yoga? Conversation therapy? Physical therapy? Does this actually help?”
“Of course, I’ve watched people with limited movement recover with the right practice. And therapy should be perfect for you because it helps you mentally.”
He touches his head, “I don’t need help with my mentality.”
“I think you do and it is alright, Sire. You were scarred, you are allowed to get help.”
He understands what you mean, looking to the side in embarrassment. He nods his head.
“Will you be my teacher?”
“No, Mistress Hana will lead the classes. She trained with a master for many years.”
“I understand. And who will be my therapist?”
“Master Itoi. He trained for many years and served during the Japanese invasion twenty years ago.”
“So he understands. Why are you only massaging me once a week?”
“Because your muscles need time to heal between sessions.”
“I see.” He lowers the plan and meets your eyes. “This should be a manageable schedule. Thank you for creating it. I shall leave you to your work now.”
“You are welcome to stay in my office and sleep some more. It will be unoccupied and quiet.”
“No.” His answer is quick, perhaps panicked even.
You furrow your brows knowingly. He must be scared of nightmares.
“No, thank you. I have slept enough”, he says and stands up. “Shall we eat dinner together?”
“I cannot promise you this. I never know when my work ends. Perhaps I will skip dinner all together. I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting, Sire.”
“I understand.” He bows. “Until then, Mistress.”
He leaves without his shoes, putting them on in front of your office. You know that he does because you can see his silhouette through the screen.
What a peculiar person he is. He seems collected and at the same time jumpy. His resolve seems strong and yet easily shaken. He does not value a lot of time spent together and yet he seems to always ask for your company. You cannot make him out correctly, all you know is that the war affected him more than he lets on.
Like every morning, your rounds lead you to the intensive care patients first. You arrive when the healers change shifts.
“Mistress”, the night healer greets you.
“How was the night?”
“Mostly quiet. There were no major incidents. Some needed water and others needed to urinate, but otherwise it was calm.”
“Very good. You worked hard, Hyeonah. Get some food and then sleep, you deserve it.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Assured that the patients were well taken care of, you begin your rounds in the common infirmary. It is a busy place. Healers and helpers scurry around the big hall. Families and friends visit their wounded loved ones. And the occasional patient takes their walk between the beds, greeting you as you pass them.
You comment on their recovery process, discuss treatments with them and wish them a good day. Not all of your patients here are war survivors. Some are people who have undergone surgery or people recovering from an illness. You treat each of them with the same amount of care and respect because for you every patient is precious.
You pass by Jungkook’s bed and stop in your tracks. He is not alone this morning. Taehyung sits by his bedside and holds his hand while Jungkook cries. You are still too far away to understand what they are talking about, but it is obvious that Taehyung genuinely cares for what the grieving man has to say.
You decide not to disturb them, continuing your rounds with a lighter heart. Jungkook has been so lonely, it is good that he has some company today.
Breakfast in the infirmary is served at eight. Most of the patients are awake by then and any procedure or check up which needed to be done on an empty stomach were finished by then.
Your route takes you back to Jungkook’s bed. Taehyung is still with him. Jungkook is laughing at something Taehyung said. You have never seen him laugh before.
“Mistress Healer”, he notices you and waves you over with a smile.
Taehyung instantly rises to his feet, bowing his head at you.
“Sire”, you greet Taehyung.
“Mistress.”
“Good morning, Jungkook. You seem to be in a good mood today.”
“General Kim came to see me. We are sharing stories about my brother.”
“They must be good stories.”
“They are. I forgot how funny Junghyun was. The general reminded me.”
You give Taehyung a hasty glance. He seems bashful in the spotlight, looking to the side.
“Then you must tell me too one day. For now, here is your breakfast.”
“Thank you, Mistress. I will tell you gladly.”
You give him a smile then return to the food cart. Their conversation meets your ears as you leave.
“I guess you will leave me now, General.”
“I can stay and eat with you, Jungkook-ah. I have time.”
“But General, you don’t have any food. Please take some of mine.”
“Eat everything. You need it more than me. I already feel full just watching you eat.”
He is kind and cares for his comrades. It is the very first thing you are sure about Taehyung’s character.
The latter stayed with Jungkook until it was time for his treatments. He leaves for them with a lighter expression, talking to the healers which he hadn’t done before. You turn your head at the feeling of a presence beside you.
“Thank you”, you say.
Taehyung glances at you, “for what?”
“You have done far more for his recovery than you might imagine, so thank you. He will keep this day in his memory for a long time.”
“I simply kept him company.”
“You did. Sometimes that’s all people need.”
“If I had known his struggles, I already would have visited him sooner. You must tell me about my men’s conditions from now on.”
“Of course, I will tell you if any of them need company.”
He nods his head firmly, features tightened in seriousness.
“Have you eaten, Sire?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I see. So you were telling the truth.”
“Hm?”
“When you told Jungkook you’d feel full just watching him eat.”
“Ah. It’s a saying we developed at the front when we shared rations.”
“Oh.”
He faces you.
“Is it true that the king hasn’t visited yet?” he asks, voice suddenly dark in anger. His stare is intense.
“I am sure that he is very busy and-”
“Hah”, he scoffs, silencing you, “I cannot believe him. I tell him to do one thing and he is incapable of following through.”
“Sire”, you gasp, reaching out to cover his mouth with your finger. You never touch, but the effect is the same.
His anger dissipates. The kindness in his eyes returns. With a gentle grip he tugs your hand away from his lips.
“It is not bad mouthing him when it is exactly what I will tell him soon”, he says, circling his thumb on your inner wrist mindlessly.
“What? But he will be angry at you for such rude words. Sire, you cannot.”
“But I will.” He lets go of your hand and bows his head. “Until then, Mistress.”
“Sire, please calm down before speaking to the king”, you beg him, tugging at his sleeve.
“Don’t worry about me.”
“Sire, if he bans you, I have to follow.”
He furrows his brows, “why would you?”
“Because I have to go where my husband goes.”
A wave of realisation washes over him as if in this very moment, he remembered that you and he were married. His ears flush and he avoids your eyes.
“I will choose my words more carefully”, he promises and bows one more time before leaving.
That day the king visits the infirmary before the sun sets. The soldiers’ mood is radically lifted and many talk about being acknowledged for their deeds even late into the night.
Taehyung did it. He gave these men their honour and some of their happiness back.
Although the day went very smoothly, it is still late when you can finally retire to your chambers. Yet another night where you will have to go to sleep on an empty stomach. Oh this is killing you.
Taehyung rises to his feet as you open the door, startling you greatly.
“Chicken shit”, you gasp, jumping back.
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Sire, you scared me. What are you doing here?”
“I told the servants to prepare what you usually eat for dinner. I didn’t know when you would finish so it is probably cold by now”, he explains himself because he picked up on your suspicious tone.
You look over your shoulder if anyone has noticed. The hallways are empty. Assured that the scandalous scene has no witnesses, you enter the bedroom and close the door.
“Sire, why are you in my chambers?”
“For dinner of course. We can eat together as husband and wife”, he explains and takes a step closer.
You instinctively take a step back, heart racing unbearably. Did you doom yourself? Did you remind him of your status and therefore made him aware of what he could ask of you? Is this why he waits in your chambers like a common pervert? To ask for your body and expect you to serve?
He halts in his steps, furrowing his brows.
“Why are you fleeing me?”, he asks, voice lower than usual.
“You waited in my chambers, Sire. I do not know what to make of this indecency.”
“Indecency?” he gasps, brows lifting.
“Yes, indecency.” You straighten your back confidently. “It is late into the night and you waited for me. If people saw you, oh I do not even want to imagine what they would think of you.”
His eyes drift to the side. He scratches his chin in confusion.
“I was unaware of this rule”, he confesses.
There is no such rule. You made it up in your panic. Because truth be told, you never had a man wait in your bedroom for you and this is a highly stressful situation.
“It is only dinner. I do not wish for you to go to bed hungry.” He gestures at the set table. “But if you wish me to leave, I can go.”
He seems honestly apologetic for his actions. You sigh in defeat. You must go easy on him, he was at the frontline for years. Manners and etiquette weren’t important, so he naturally still needs to relearn how to be a prince.
“No, please this isn’t necessary. What kind of healer would I be if I sent my patient to bed hungry?”
His eyes glimmer excitedly for a brief moment. He hurries to the table.
“Then please get comfortable, Mistress.”
You get comfortable on the pillow. He opens the clay domes, revealing another vegetable rich meal.
“More vegetables. Great.”
His reaction makes you snicker. The awkward tension of before ceases to exist.
“You truly love your vegetables, don’t you?” he mumbles, lips curled into a pout.
“I do. And no take backs, Sire. You wanted to eat dinner with me, so do it.”
He huffs air, “remind me not to make promises in the future.”
You snicker a second time, meeting his eyes briefly. His ears flush, your cheeks warm up. You look away quickly and distract yourselves by eating.
“Mhhm I love japchae after a long day”, you gush, chewing with your eyes closed.
Taehyung studies your face and makes a mental note. Your favourite meals make you happy. He must remember this if he wants to be a good husband like his father was.
“How are you liking it, Sire?”
You find his eyes. Taehyung flinches as he remembers that he also needed to eat. He hastily picks up the chopsticks and shoves a big amount of cold japchae into his mouth. He chews for a while, brows furrowed and gaze serious.
You wait with bated breath, releasing it the very second he nods his head.
“It’s good”, he confesses defeated.
“See? And it won’t give you a hard time falling asleep.”
“It would still be better with meat”, he murmurs under his breath.
“Alright, alright if you say so.”
As you expected, not much is said during dinner. You do not mind. The day was long and your capacity to talk is very sparse.
You finish, lifting your head for the first time. Taehyung is sitting up straight, eyes travelling over your features. He must have finished his meal quite a while ago.
Your nerves return. He seems expectant. At least to you.
“Thank you for providing dinner for me tonight. I was really hungry”, you say, fumbling with your sleeves under the table.
“Of course.”
You and he lock eyes and instantly break it again. He clears his throat, looking at his surroundings.
“Your room is rather spacious”, he comments.
“Ah. Yes, I think so too. It has everything I need.”
“Mhm and the heating works great”, he says, rubbing the warm floor.
“Yes, whenever it is really cold I like to lie down on the floor and enjoy the warmth.”
He nods his head. The tension is definitely very awkward.
“You aren’t wearing the jewellery I gave you.”
“Ah yes.” Your cheeks heat up. “It is just that my work does not really allow a lot of jewellery. It could hurt the patients.”
“I did not think of this. Forgive me.”
“You couldn’t have known. I still appreciate the present, for now I merely get to stare at it, is all.”
He glances at you from the corner of his eyes.
“Is there an occasion you would wear it to?” he asks, flustering you.
“I have to confess that I did not really put a lot of thought into it.”
He nods his head and turns to face you. His stare is intense.
“Then allow me to take you out so you can show it off.”
“Sire, you-” You laugh nervously. “-I don’t know what to say to this.”
“Do you not wish me to?”
“It’s not this, it is just that…”
“Yes?”
You are scared. Scared of giving him signs that he can go further. You were so free when he was gone. You still had authority over your own body, you had a voice and you are scared to lose this.
You do not mind that he is back. As long as you and he are nothing more than the healer and her patient, you do not mind his company. But letting him in as your husband? It scares you unbearably. But you do not tell him that because you are scared that if you did, he would not understand and get angry instead. He might be kind to his comrades, but how he would be as a husband is still unknown to you.
“It wouldn’t be appropriate to do so as long as you are my patient.”
“I understand. Please forgive me”, he accepts without protest and it makes you feel guilty.
“No please, do not apologise.”
“I am still adjusting to this life. I know that I am bold and unmannerly, but I am trying really hard.”
“I know that, Sire.”
“I appreciate all that you do for me, Mistress. I already learned to wait with eating until everyone is seated and how to properly pour tea because of you. Perhaps one day I can learn how to be a mannered husband as well, please be patient with me until then.”
You look at your lap. You made him worry. Oh how rude you are.
“This isn’t necessary, Sire. You will be doing great.”
“Yes, this is my wish.” He stands up and bows. “Which is why I must bid you good night now. I overstayed my welcome.”
You stumble to your feet, wanting to fix this somehow but not knowing how. So you fight for words until you land on what to say.
“Good night, Sire. Wait, you do not need to carry this.”
“I was the one who forced dinner on you, I can take care of the empty dishes. Worry not.”
“Then allow me to hold the door open at least.”
Taehyung presses outside. Dishes clatter and clang on the trays. You and he look around panickedly. You lock eyes. You snicker, his gaze softens.
“Hopefully this didn’t wake anyone.”
“If it did then-”
“Hush.” You quickly cover his mouth with your hand.
Taehyung holds his breath, looking at you with widened eyes. You smell sweet and floral. It will follow him deep into his dreams.
“Somebody is coming. You have to leave, Sire”, you order and give him a panicked push.
“But-”
The door slides closed.
You drop your head against it, regulating your quickened breathing. You know that he is still outside. He sends your nerves all over the place.
“Oh General Kim, it is you. I was wondering who made these sounds. General, why are you carrying empty trays?” one of the night guards talks to Taehyung outside.
“Sergeant Min.”
Your chest tightens. Will he expose what you and he did and therefore bring dishonour to your name?
“I couldn’t sleep so I went to the kitchen and got something to eat. I wanted to return the dishes but tripped over my feet.”
You sigh in relief. Your sin is safe. He kept it a secret.
“You do not need to worry about that, General. If you place it in front of your door, the early staff will clean it up before anyone wakes.”
“Is that so? Thank you for informing me. Good night, sergeant.”
“General.”
The shadows of the two conversing men go opposite ways. You are finally out of trouble.
Oh what are you doing? Even now he kept your secret and you keep him at an arm’s length.
The market is the perfect place to get the herbs and roots you cannot grow yourself. You sent your team of healers to gather the deliveries you agreed upon with Mister Yang last week, while you meet up with Mister Choi. He has been in the fabric business ever since your mother was a young royal healer, and uses a cane to walk these days. As always he greets you by your name, smiling brightly.
“Good day to you, Mister Choi. How have you been?”
“Same as always. The knees are protesting again because of the colder weather.”
“I brought you the tiger’s balm you asked for. That should lessen the aches and do not forget to do your exercises in the morning.”
“And to never sleep with the windows open. Yes, yes I remember”, he dismisses you with a friendly wave. “What can I get you today?”
“I need two rolls of your sturdiest linen fabric and three bags of feathers. We need to stock up in bedding in the infirmary.”
“Lots to do now that the division returned?”
“Yes, quite a lot and far too many returned wounded.”
Mister Choi shakes his head, “a senseless war I tell you. Senseless.”
You agree with him in your head, but do not speak any of your distaste out loud. As the king’s healer you are not allowed to have an opinion which criticizes him in any way. Mister Choi knows that and so he waddles to the back of his shop, talking to you.
“General Kim has returned as well, so I heard.”
The mention of Taehyung does not churn your stomach as much as it did three weeks ago, but it also does not raise butterflies. It leaves you feeling neither better nor worse.
“He has.”
“How have you adjusted?” he asks the question as your mother’s friend and as a person who watched you grow up. He was the one who provided you with the wedding clothes and he knows that you struggled with accepting your fate.
“We mostly see each other for his treatments, but when we do he is respectful.”
“I see. It will get easier with time.” He returns to the front. “I have everything you need and I can send my delivery boys to the palace by noon.”
“Perfect. Thank you, Mister Choi. Don’t forget your exercises.”
“I won’t”, he promises with a lift of his pinkie finger.
You still have some time before you have to return to the palace and so you decide to seek out your favourite merchant. You buy a cup of warm jujube tea with your own coin, chatting to the vendor about the weather. A few people stop and ask you for your medical input on their little problems and ailments. You provide them with solutions gladly and they thank you with blessings for a happy life. It feels good to be known as someone reliable in the city. Being the royal healer is honourable and leaves you with pride.
You walk to the book merchant once you finish the tea. Perhaps he has new medical journals you could purchase. Visiting him and buying new books is your favourite pastime activity, and with the amount of stress the past weeks brought, you really deserve the treat.
“Mistress Healer, I greet you.”
“Good day to you too.”
“What a coincidence that you are here as well.”
His statement confuses you, but you do not ask for clarification. The book merchant often says peculiar stuff.
“How is the throat?”
“Good. The tea you prescribed me cleared it up in no time.”
“That’s good”, you say and leave the conversation.
The medical section is in the far back. You linger by the herbalism section as you pass it, but find nothing of use. You brush by the poetry section but nothing interests you. You cross the corner and halt in your steps. You are not alone here. Taehyung has not seen you yet, skimming his eyes over the scrolls and journals. He is scratching his chin, looking very lost. He opens a journal about the bones in the human foot, reading it with furrowed brows.
“No, she must know this already”, he murmurs and discards the journal where he had found it.
Your stomach flutters. He is here to buy a journal for you. Embarrassment floods you. You cannot be seen here, it would make it seem as if you were stalking him.
You turn and flee, blind to Taehyung lifting his head in alarm at seeing someone in the corner of his eyes. He puts the scroll aside and sets after his stalker, hand on his sword and eyes darkened. It would not be the first time an enemy sends a spy after him.
The book merchant who seconds ago watched you flee the bookshop, follows Taehyung with his eyes.
“Have a good day”, he says, wondering if the couple had a fight.
You stop in front of the bookstore, catching your breath. The moment of peace lasts one second and then you have Taehyung run into you accidentally with his entire strength. You fall forward, screaming loudly. Taehyung catches you, twirling you so you are facing him.
“Forgive- You”, he gets out.
For the longest second, time seems to stand still as he holds you in his arms and stares into your eyes. He has a small birthmark on his lower lip.
He flinches and straightens up, letting go of you. His face clouds over with seriousness.
“Have you seen where they went?”
“Who?”
He prances left and right while looking for something vigorously.
“Did someone pass by you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Did somebody come out of this store before me? Have you seen their face? Where they went?” he seems maniac at this point. If it was socially acceptable, he would probably sniff the ground like a hound.
Realisation sets in for you. He must have seen you flee and now thinks that somebody was stalking after him. Should you confess or would it embarrass him that you caught him shopping?
“Nobody came out of the store before you”, you hear yourself say against your better judgement.
“Are you quite certain? How long have you been here?”
“Uh… not that long. I was in the midst of going in.”
“So there was truly nobody?”
“No.”
He stops in defeat, touching his own forehead.
“I am losing my mind”, he says under his breath.
You feel bad for keeping your presence a secret, but it is too late to speak the truth. You would be outed as a liar and therefore shunned by him.
“Shall we sit for a while? Perhaps you could accompany me to the shop?” you offer.
“No. No, I think it is best if I just…leave”, he says, voice airy and eyes glassy because he forgot to blink. He turns, leaving with his head hanging low.
Oh, you feel terrible.
“Sire, wait”, you call after him, jogging to catch up with him. You touch his upper arm gently.
He slips from your touch without acknowledging your presence, leaving you in the streets with no chance to clear up the situation.
The people’s stares finally sink into your consciousness. Of course they would stare. You screamed like a maniac. With your cheeks feeling on fire, you flee the scene, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. How terribly embarrassing.
It is late at night when you jolt awake at the sound of someone’s screams. Your experience as a healer allows you to function instantly. Within seconds, you are ready with everything you need. In your sleeping rope, you hurry to where the scream came from. Taehyung’s chambers. Curious royals and nobles stick their heads out of the rooms, following you with their eyes as you run past them. A few guards and some servants have gathered in front of his door, discussing whether to go in or not.
“Out of my way”, you bark, wrestling them to the side. You disappear inside the room before they can ask any questions, closing the door behind you.
His room is empty. The pillows and blankets are kicked to the floor. The door to outside is open and the faint smell of smoke enters the room.
He must have been in a hurry as he prepared whatever he is smoking. The substance is scattered all over the table as if the hands who used it were shaking. You pick up some of it with your fingertips and smell it.
Dried poppy shells. An outdated medicine. It was once used during surgery to keep the patient asleep, but these days it is mostly used in darker circles as a drug to trigger hallucinations. Smoking it damages the psyche and body in the long term.
Worried, you go outside.
Taehyung is barely dressed, shivering in the cold and staring at nothing. You know that look. You have treated soldiers with this look. He can barely even hold the pipe, murmuring nonsense to himself.
“Sire, is everything alright?”
He stays unresponsive, which is unsurprising. His body might be here, but his mind is elsewhere.
You kneel down beside him, calling his attention carefully with a hand on his shoulder.
“Argh!” He lashes out, pinning you to the ground. His pupils are dilated, his nostrils flared.
“It’s me!” you scream, falling hard and staring at the fist he raises. “Taehyung!”
He falters, huffing air. His breath reeks of smoke.
“It’s only me. Do you hear me? It is only me.”
He blinks. The fog from his eyes disappears.
“You.” He flinches back, eyes clouding over with guilt. “Forgive me. I didn’t know where I was”, he croaks, burying his face in his own hands.
“I understand, worry not. Where did you go?” you assure him, straightening up.
He shakes his head, whimpering softly. You scoot closer, but do not touch him. Your brother says that touch is difficult to handle during the attacks.
“You can tell me. It will be a little easier afterwards”, you say.
“The-there is always so much blood. And the screams are so deafening”, Taehyung gets out, trembling uncontrollably.
Your job as a healer often includes mental healing as well. One would be surprised how many physical ailments have their roots in mental issues weakening the body. You are no stranger to soldiers talking about their times at the frontline, yet you would have never thought that Taehyung suffers from it. He seems so cold-hearted in the stories, people say that he only knows violence and cares little about the people he kills. You thought that battle is where he is happiest but as he sits before you and shakes from the terrors in his head, you finally see him for who he is. Just another human being.
A broken, terrified human.
“May I help you?”
He nods his head.
“I will touch you, do not frighten.”
He does not react when you place your hands on his back, he merely keeps staring at the ground with empty eyes. You feel his body for tense spots as you guide your hands to where they need to be. He is tense all over his body, tensing more when you touch his waist.
“Stand up with me.”
He works with you, meeting your eyes. They want to connect, they seek reassurance that he isn’t alone anymore, they beg you to let him enter. You give him a soft smile.
“Let us walk to my office.”
“My pipe.”
“Leave it.”
“But-”
“No. Poppy shells are not the solution. They trigger hallucinations and in trauma patients like you, the nightmares will be more graphic and harder to wake up from.”
“But the merchant said that it will help.”
“Of course he did, he wanted your coin. Tell me how much did he ask for it?”
Taehyung gives up in defeat, lowering his head, “this bastard.”
“Don’t blame yourself. You aren’t the first soldier these roaches take advantage of.”
You place him by the steps for a moment as you open the sliding door. The cold has seeped through your clothes, both of you are trembling.
“Come in. A change of scenery will do you well. What?”
“You should lock your doors.”
“I will be fine.”
“As your general, I tell you to lock your door. You do not know how quickly raids happen.”
He cares, it is written in his eyes. Even in his broken state, he cannot help himself but to care for the safety of others. Even shaken and terrorised, his instincts are that of a general putting everyone’s need above his own.
“Alright, I will lock them from now on. Now come and sit here.”
He sinks down on the soft sleeping mat, barely following you with his eyes as you set up a pot of tea for him. Sitting here helps a little. It isn’t loud when you are close by, daily noises don’t sound so terrifying.
You hurry to him, kneeling down before him. You drape a blanket over his shoulders, baffling him with it. This was such a pure and kind gesture. Taehyung feels so warm in his chest.
“You are still here”, you promise, giving him a smile again. “Yes? Right in my office where it’s quiet and warm. You are still here.”
Taehyung nods his head, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.
You return to the tea pot. Your kindness lingers, surrounding him like warm flames. He has never had another person cover him with a blanket. It was…nice. Really nice.
You sit down on the floor once the tea seeped. You changed in his eyes. Your features became softer, your presence brighter.
“What are you giving me?” he asks, accepting the warm mug.
“Lavender, chamomile and passionflower. It will still calm you down, but without the terrible side effects.”
“I did not know that it was bad for me.”
“And how could you? I understand you. When you are drowning, you wouldn’t question the hand that reaches for you, you would simply take it.”
He nods his head, lowering it after.
“Forgive me”, he gets out, covering his eyes. It embarrasses him to cry in front of you, but he cannot stop it.
“Don’t apologise. I understand.”
“I’m alright, just give me a moment”, he says, trying frantically to stop the tears.
“It’s alright, Sire. You can cry with me”, you whisper, rubbing his shoulder. Nobody ever did that before. Nobody ever comforted him and it breaks his fragile walls.
The words spill out of him like a flood.
“It is so exhausting. I, I exist in the real world until suddenly I find myself at the frontline again and it is…it is anything that can send me there. Days ago, I heard a child call for his mother and suddenly I was reliving the day my friend called for his mother as he died. I smell smoke and suddenly see burning corpses piling by my feet. And I cannot breathe, I try to breathe but all I make is sounds of wheezing. I hear my friend scream, I see corpses, I suffocate and suddenly I’m back in the real world again. And nobody noticed what happened to me, life went on and I have to go on with it.”
You listen to him, biting back tears.
“Or, or, or somebody drops a metal spoon nearby and suddenly I find myself shaking beyond my control. Because it, it reminds me of the sound of swords and I can’t live”, he sobs into his hand, “I don’t want to live like this. I don’t.”
“I am so sorry that you have to go through this”, you whisper, voice shaky.
“Please help me. I don’t know what to do when this happens. I can’t stop it and it, it suffocates me.”
“I know as terrible as it sounds, but you cannot really do anything against it. But you can learn how to cope with it better.”
“Why do I have to learn that?”
“Because these are the cards you were dealt and it’s terrible, but it’s still what happened. And I hate that it did, Sire. I really do.”
“I didn’t ask for this. I’m so sorry that I’m so weak and that I cannot handle it like a true man. I’m sorry”, he presses out, breaking down on the spot.
It is a different kind of feeling to experience a strong man break down and wail like a little boy. Especially when it is the notorious, ruthless General Kim Taehyung who is known for his cold heart and sharp sword. The unbreakable killing machine broken from what he had to do.
“Oh, Sire. It pains me to see you this way. Do you wish to be held?”
“What good would do this?”
“Companionship during a difficult time.”
Taehyung closes the distance to you, dropping his weight on your shoulders. You close your arms around him, rubbing his back. It is a different kind of heavy to hold a person deemed strong.
“You are not weak”, you whisper, “not in my eyes.”
Taehyung finally allows himself to sob into you. As if hearing that his experience is not a sign of weakness gives him the strength to seek what he truly craved but was too scared to ask for.
A hug. He wished for a simple, oh so simple, hug.
“There, there. You aren’t alone. There, there, let it all out. You can be honest with me, Sire. I am here.”
You and he did not spend a lot of time together before he left for the frontline, but he wasn’t like this five years ago. He was truly terrifying, he was the sword of the king, the bringer of justice and watchman of the palace. He did not hesitate to fight. People did not cross him and the ones who did, never saw the light of the new day. You could not have imagined the Taehyung of five years ago to ever cry.
He is different.
Because this is what war is at the very core: The reason why men return differently.
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