“Aren’t you a little short to be a palace guard?” with Jimin
Prompt: “ Aren’t you a little short to be a palace guard? ”
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Word Count: 1.269k
The peaks of the castle’s high towers are the first thing that comes in your line of view; the fresh air brushing your face as you run across the desert field, the edge of the forest already in sight signaling you that the end of your escapade is nearing.
You did this many times before and even all the yelling and scolding of both the queen and the king – respectively your mother and father – is not enough to put your desire of freedom aside.
It’s not that you dislike your life at court and wish to be a commoner – as her highness would scream at you – but the palace is not your happy place either. It is very naïve of you, and also a bit pretentious, to want to indulge in the best of both worlds but, for as long as you’ll be able to do so, you have no intention to stop escaping your guard’s protection to enjoy the exhilarating freedom and normalcy that resides beyond the high walls.
Your feet come to a halt as you glimpse at the wooden door that protectively secures the outside world from the fastness and joy of the castle. There’s only one guard at the entrance – or at least only one in plain sight – and you bite your bottom lip as you try to discern his identity from several feet apart.
Even at that distance you can distinguish his general features and, upon realizing he’s a few inches shorter than you, you conclude he must be someone new.
A devilish smirk twists your mouth as you resume your walk, this time much calmer than before – for you have no rush to go back to your identity and role in the castle’s small society – taking in his features more and more as you cut the distance short step after step.
His eyes soon enough focus on you, his stance attentive, his gaze sharp as he follows your every move. He has raven hair and eyes just as dark though big and, somewhat, gentle. His lips are considerably full and almost coral after he traps them in a thin line, his muscles contracting as you come to a stop right in front of him.
To be honest, he’s fairly handsome but, most importantly, quite young, which leaves you wondering how good he must be for being appointed to guard the outside door – by far the most dangerous place in the whole palace to be assigned to.
“Aren’t you a little small to be a palace guard?” you muse whilst smiling, your hands intertwined between your back, your natural posture not enough to betray your elite origins.
Your clothes are quite ruined and resemble the ones of the poor people outside – since you wish to camouflage yourself in the mass of commoners once you’re out of the castle – and you’re very conscious about the dirt crusted at the hem of your long skirt as well as the leaves trapped in your tangled hair. You can already hear your maid mumbling by herself whilst she struggles with the knots you created running between the majestic trees of the nearby forest.
“What does height have to do with anything?” he quips back, his tone betraying the fact that you, indeed, hit a weak spot in his strong façade. His chin raises up, almost trying to look taller with that simple movement, the pride sparkling in his eyes as he looks you up and down.
“Ever fought a troll?” you ask, the derision in your voice making his complexion turn quite rosy in what you assume is a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
“Everyone looks short next to a troll,” he snaps back, almost growling his words as his grip around the pole-axe tightens, the noise of his gloves against the wood signaling you’re really working him up. You don’t know why you find it so entertaining but you decide he’s your new favorite guard and a new addition to your weekly escapade from the citadel to the village.
“True,” you concede, the smile on your face getting gentler as you start to take into a liking the brand-new palace guard – it almost feels like a gift in your otherwise monotonous life.
“Princess!” it’s the penetrating voice of one of your personal guards that interrupts the moment, successfully dragging you back into reality.
“There you are!” he pants as he comes to a halt in front of you, his face livid from all the running he probably did through all the castle trying to find you, hoping to find you.
Truth be told, you do feel bad for him and all the other men that work for your father and are doomed with the duty of protecting you, for you know every time you disappear they have to bear with the king anger and panic. But still, egoistically enough, you prefer them being scolded than being turned into a caged little bird.
Your gaze goes back to the new guard, his shifting movements gathering your attention and you can’t suppress a laugh when you take in the redness on his face and his eyes, fixed upon you, as big as they could possibly be.
“P-princess?” he stammers, his voice nothing more than a whisper as you jokingly bow in front of him, pulling at your dress’ hems.
“The one and only,” you can’t help but wink in his direction and rejoice in the way he takes a step back, his mouth falling agape as he realizes he shouldn’t have talked to you so informally – if not at all.
“What’s your name?” you ask, your head tilting to the side whilst he gulps audibly, his eyes locking on everything but you.
“Jimin, my lady,” he whispers whilst bowing deep in front of you, his discomfort no longer enjoyable now that he understood the difference in your statuses. That’s what you like the most about the near village: no one knows who you are and no one cares. You’re sick of people bowing to you and being careful about what they say in fear of the repercussions their incautiousness could bring upon them. You don’t feel like anything more than any other girl and what you desperately want is to feel normal and, for once, have real and entertaining conversations with the people around you.
“We have to go, princess, your father waits for your return,” you sigh as your eyes travel back to the elder guard, the smile on your face faltering at the thought of going back to the confinement of your room.
“It was fun talking to you, Jimin,” you whisper right before following your guard, your eyes still lingering on the young man to catch his reaction to your words.
The look of astonishment on his face, his difficulty in finding the courage to utter as much as one word, his mouth agape whilst he tries to make even the smallest of sounds, his face bit red and, you notice, his hand on the weapon slightly trembling out of nervousness all successfully bring back the smile on your face. Cute. That’s the last impression he leaves if you with right before the big door closes between you two and you’re no longer a simple girl teasing any other regular guy: you’re the princess and soon-to-be-queen.
Your breath gets caught in your lungs as the weight of your identity and responsibility falls upon your shoulders again, the vastness of the castle feeling like a packed room that you can’t escape. Every girl wants to be a princess, they say. If only they knew what it entails.
