SVT’s Jeonghan: Love, War, and Everything Between || part two
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Fic Piece Written By: Admin Grandma of @springday-aus
Moodboard Link: Created by Admin Grandpa
Character Pairing Y/N [fem. reader] and Seventeen’s Yoon Jeonghan
Other Characters: Nu’est [Jonghyun and Minhyun (mentioned), Baekho (known as Dongho)], Blackpink’s Jisoo, APink’s Namjoo, Seventeen [Seungcheol and Jisoo, along with idiot squad!Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan], and more to be added along the way!
Genre: historical, romance, drama, royal!au, arranged marriage!au + gender role reversal
None of this is historically accurate! This is purely fiction!
Type: series
prologue || part one || part two || part three → to be available! check the progress on our upcoming page!
Word Count: approx. 4.7k
Plot Summary: Korea’s most distinguished military general arrives home, carrying back glory and honor from the war. However, the general has been revealed to be a woman! Due to the prominent military accomplishments you have made as the highest ranking general, by orders of the Empress, you are arranged to be married to the second-eldest prince, Yoon Jeonghan. Only one problem lies between you two: your reputation as a ruthless killing machine, which scares the living daylights out of your new husband.
→ Inspired by: the Chinese drama called Oh My General (also known as General Above I Am Below)
Warnings: graphic violence, glorified war, murder, sexual harassment, sex discrimination (mainly against women), poly-relationships (i.e. concubines), political corruption, and homosexual tendencies
The brothel is especially crowded today, both in customers and the women. The atmosphere is bustling with excitement and laughter as drinks are being passed around. The music lifts the mood, providing more entertainment for the drunken males as they chat amongst themselves.
Unfortunately for them, however, most of the ladies are rushing to the center of the main floor to get a glimpse of Prince Jeonghan—who’s preparing a special performance. While it’s not rare for him to make an appearance, there are few occasions for him to perform.
He openly gets undressed from his royal robes, which are made of the finest silks, down to his undergarments. Underneath the bright pastels is nothing but pure white. His skin shines against the sunlight that pours in from the balcony and it highlights his facial features.
A woman gushes from the sidelines. “Oh, gosh. I’ve only heard of how pretty he is, but now that I’ve seen him in person…” She covers the bottom half of her face with her fan in shyness as her words trail off. “I don’t think I could ever recover.”
“His fingers are so delicate,” another whispers, almost fearful of the Prince overhearing her.
“Forget his hands!” A woman nudges her, shaking her fan towards his figure. “Just look at those lips. They’re absolutely perfect.”
Another sighs in content of the view. “His jawline was sculpted by a greater divinity. That divinity wanted us to worship that jawline.”
“That jawline is meant to cut diamonds, not just worshipping.”
At a separate table, a few feet away from the balcony and the crowd of women, there sits three men—friends of the Prince. Upon hearing these comments makes Seokmin gag from his seated position, so much that he leans over and pretends to retch under the table. Soonyoung’s face wrinkles in disgust at the sounds and Seungkwan simply looks away, fanning himself.
“My Prince,” Seungkwan calls out. “To what is the aim of all this?”
Prince Jeonghan smirks to himself as he pulls on the shabby, bright red robes. He has been adorned in much more expensive fabrics—with much better quality, bound to last for centuries—and yet, every once in a while, he lowers himself down (as his mother likes to put it) to connect with the common folks. It might be demeaning for others, but, for him, it’s a chance to express himself, his talents, and his abilities to show his connections with the citizens.
But of course, he is deemed as nothing more than a shallow prince.
The Prince swallows, almost as if to push down the brief moment of sadness, before he turns to the trio. He raises his smirk higher, much more smug than before. “Attention, I suppose.”
Seungkwan’s jaw drops slightly from the audacity of the Prince. However, while disappointed, the man cannot say he is surprised.
Seokmin simply rolls his eyes, but doesn’t respond—knowing it’s smarter not to bite at the hands of the Prince. Considering how long they’ve all known one another, Prince Jeonghan’s words are the ones that bite the hardest.
However, Soonyoung never learns his lesson. He shakes his head at the Prince’s words, before pouring another drink for himself. “My Prince, I must say that the cheap fabrics oddly suit you.”
Seungkwan nearly chokes on his spit at the words, holding his fan between him and Soonyoung. “You shouldn’t say that,” he says, without bothering to be quiet. “You’re only going to feed his ego more.”
The Prince raises his hand, as if to playfully hit him with his own decorated fan—a similar shade of red that matches his robe. “You’re one to say, considering how often you provide more compliments for yourself rather than receiving them from others.”
Before the latter can respond, Prince Jeonghan makes his way through the tables and towards the front, where there is an open stage awaiting for him. He makes his place in the center, in the middle of a rose pile that is swept across the floor, where he sits elegantly.
The wind begins to blow softly, enough to swirl the petals around him—with the additional cherry blossoms flowing from the open balcony and into the room. The band immediately begins, playing a soft melody to calm the hearts of all within close proximity.
His body begins to move with the music, as if he were part of the winds that drift in the air. The balance and poise his body demonstrates would leave the female dancers envious had it not been the fact that they were too busy admiring his beauty. He is more than calm and collected—but still manages to display elegance and sentiment.
There’s a collection of satisfied sighs that can be heard from the ladies as he loses himself to the music. With moments like this, he forgets it all: the royal status, the scrutiny—he just becomes another mere dancer with talents of his own.
As the last note is held, he bends down and folds himself towards the ground as if to thank his audience. Applause fills the air and the ladies begin to throw their handkerchiefs to the stage.
“Absolutely beautiful!”
“Spectacular, my Prince!”
“A man of many talents, Prince Jeonghan!”
Their praises continue to fill his ears as he steps down, making his way back towards his table—where the trio greets him with a standing ovation and slow claps to applaud the Prince and his talents.
“But, of course,” Soonyoung says. “What else did we expect from our Prince himself?”
“What he means to say,” Seokmin intervenes. “Was that it was a wonderful dance, as per usual, my Prince.”
They take their seats again, making more toasts and snacking on the plates presented on their table. Their conversation is interrupted by the brothel’s owner, who comes with more women and numerous plates full of food and drinks that only one can imagine.
“Prince Jeonghan,” she says with a bow. “Thank you for visiting our humble brothel. I can only gift you with my ladies and food to fill your stomach.”
“That is more than enough,” Prince Jeonghan says. “Thank you for allowing me to dance.”
“It’s our honor, my Prince.” She gives another bow of her head, giving time for the women to set up the additional food and drinks, before making herself scarce.
Prince Jeonghan turns his attention back to the table, making more toasts with the trio and engaging with the conversation once more—allowing the rowdy setting to activate again.
However, a snicker from a few tables away catches the ears of the Prince. A few men, clearly in a more drunken state that is less than appropriate given the time of day, entertain themselves with rather reckless comments in front of royalty.
“Can you believe,” one begins to speak, “that he is a prince of our country? My chickens set a better example of leadership than that frilly pansy.”
The other man hums, only to let out a small burp as he opens his mouth. “If he were to run the country, we would be in ruins.”
“That’s why he’s only a mere prince,” another responds. “Prince Jonghyun is the only one who will successfully obtain the kingdom and there shall be no worries.”
“Well,” the second man replies. “Prince Seungcheol is another option. Either one is a good choice. I wouldn’t mind being under Prince Minhyun’s rule either.”
“Prince Jeonghan is more of collateral damage,” the first man hiccups. “A worse case scenario, if you will.”
The Prince frowns underneath his cup as he takes another sip of his alcohol, but doesn’t say anything. While knowing some part of it is true, it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. His train of thought is interrupted as a familiar face noisily enters the room.
He stands. “Chan!”
The young boy looks a bit startled, but relieved to see the Prince. “My Prince!” He quickly makes his way over to the table of recognizable faces. “My Lords,” he says, bowing his head to greet the others. He turns back to the main man. “Prince Jeonghan, I have urgent news from the palace.”
“Chan,” Soonyoung says. “Would you like some water first?”
“Yes, have some first,” Seokmin adds. “You look like you ran from the palace itself.”
There’s a moment of silence as Chan catches his breath, silently accepting the glass Seungkwan presents to him. After swallowing large gulps from the glass, he wipes his mouth and practically slams the glass back on the table.
Seungkwan clears his throat. “Chan, you may now proceed with the news.”
Chan gives him a look, almost amused as to how Seungkwan presents himself as above him—even in the presence of royalty. With a shake of his head, he chooses to ignore him. “Prince Jeonghan, your mother has requested your presence.”
The Prince frowns. “Why is that?”
“Because you’re to be wed in a week.”
All chatter dies—from the ladies in the arms of others to the actual guests themselves. The trio has frozen, unsure as to what it was exactly that they had heard. A pin has been dropped.
“Come again?” The Prince asks. “I am to be what in when?”
Meanwhile, the trio seems to have come to their senses, as they all stand in unison.
“To who?”
Chan seems more nervous at the question, now that he has the full attention of everyone in the room. “I know it is out of my place, my Prince, but I believe you should discuss this with your mother. I’m unsure as to whether I am authorized to disclose this information, considering the conditions we are currently in.”
There’s another moment of silence with the eyes of many silently pushing the young boy to release the new gossip of the week. If he’s already stirred the pot, what’s wrong with letting it boil over a little?
“I’ll pardon you if my family threatens to behead you,” Prince Jeonghan offers. At the sight of Chan’s pale face at the mention of capital punishment, he immediately rushes to fix his own words. “Although, I highly doubt it would extend that far.”
Glancing around, Chan hesitantly steps closer, only to be pulled into the small circle. Their heads join together—however, all of their eyes are locked on him, along with the ears of those still within the brothel.
“According to my sources,” he whispers. “I hear Prince Jeonghan is to be wed to…”
“Oh, to who?!” Seungkwan bursts.
Soonyoung pulls him back in.
Chan’s voice gets smaller. “To General (Y/L/N).”
“THE GENERAL?!” Seokmin shrieks.
With that, the guests partake in their chitchat once more. The second prince is to be wed to the General? There were some rumors of the General being female, but were they true? What is to be of the military, nevertheless of the royal family? Will Prince Jeonghan end up destroying his family line? There were also rumors from the palace maids themselves who said he often had trouble… performing—despite his many whores who are now palace concubines.
The trio seems to have already processed this information—moving on to try and find some rationale as to why or what it was that led to this. Meanwhile, Prince Jeonghan has personally felt as if his soul has been sold to the literal devil. He has officially become a shell of a man.
Should he feel betrayed by his family? Or angry at the thought of being wed to someone he doesn’t know?
“Isn’t the General a man?” Soonyoung asks. He turns to Chan. “How could they let the second prince marry a man?!”
Chan can only open his mouth, attempting to provide some response to the lord.
“I think the bigger question is whether or not the General is even part of the human species,” Seungkwan slyly comments. “Do you know how many people he’s killed? He’s literally called the Devil from all the bodies he’s collected on the battlefield.”
“Not just the battlefield,” Seokmin adds. “My father told me that they executed one of their own soldiers with a whip, which had been personalized with blades.” He shudders at the thought. “I’m glad he’s our general rather than another’s. Can you imagine the horror?”
With his words, the trio slowly turn their attention back to Prince Jeonghan, who looks as white as a ghost—sheer horror apparent on his face as the news officially sunk in.
Chan takes a step forward, lightly tugging on the Prince’s robes. “Prince Jeonghan?”
There’s no response.
“I’ve been ordered by your mother to bring you back to the palace. There’s a carriage outside waiting for you.” He turns to the trio. “I shall head back downstairs to wait for him as he changes.”
He bows in respect to the trio and the Prince before making his exit—not before taking another glance at the Prince, gauging in the royal’s response once more.
It’s not until after the young messenger boy has left that Prince Jeonghan eventually comes back to his senses. Although, it did take a good few minutes for the information to be fully processed.
The guests are still chatting away at the news and he can feel their eyes on him more than ever. He preferred their scrutiny rather than their overcurious eyes that want nothing more than to pry him in his most vulnerable state.
He’s starting to feel sick. His legs can no longer support him and he can feel himself collapsing onto the table. He turns back to the trio with eyes filled with fear and apprehension. Surely, his mother can do something, right?
“Your highness,” Eunuch Gok calls from outside the doors. “Prince Yoon has arrived.”
The words hit the ears of all those within the room, with the maids and other servants sharing knowing glances towards one another—but none of them dare to stop themselves from completing their tasks.
In the center of it all, the Princess Dowager sighs, feeling the exhaustion hit once more at the mention of her son. With a wave of her hand, she dismisses the maid by her side. “Bring him in.”
“Yes, your highness.”
The maids scurry, almost scrambling to move out of the way for the storm that’s about to hit—positioning themselves to form a line behind her highness.
It’s not even a second after that the Prince bursts through the doors.
“Mother!”
She doesn’t flinch, feeling rather familiar with her son’s dramatics. “Greetings first, Jeonghan. Manners make a man.”
He makes a face, but still bows to her with his head lowered. “Greetings, mother.” He stands up straight, immediately dropping the polite act. “What is this I hear about marriage?”
The Princess Dowager slowly picks up her teacup, taking a slow sip from it. The Prince, however, is still feeling antsy at the news.
With each second passing, the dread of this ill-fated marriage is getting more and more realistic. His foot taps impatiently on the expensive rug that decorates the room.
“Mother?” he calls. “Please say something.”
She places the cup back on the plate and signals the dismissal of her maids. They quietly make their exit, shutting the doors tightly behind them as they all leave the royals to their personal business.
“Mother!”
She immediately shushes him with a finger to his lips, pulling him closer to her. He’s practically on his knees, knees knocking against the brightly painted chair—only to kneel at her feet as if she has the answers to his prayers.
“Keep your voice down!” she whispers. “You know how much the servants like to gossip and, if they are to see your panic, they will not hesitate to share this information with the others!”
“I thought you had good relations with Dowager Choi and Dowager Hong.”
“I do, but it would make for awkward talks if they were to find out through the servants’ gossip.”
The Prince doesn’t understand the point of it all, but, when does he ever understand royal relations?
He shakes his head, almost as if to physically clear his head of his lingering questions. “Mother, we’re getting off topic.”
“Right,” she says. She grabs her son’s hands tightly, afraid to know what would happen if she were to let go. “Jeonghan, the Empress is the one who decided to wed you to the General.”
“The Empress?”
“Yes, the Empress.”
This implies she has no power—no say—in what is to happen afterwards. His shoulders slump from the little faith that he had of being saved: all hope has been lost.
Prince Jeonghan tries to think. Why would the Empress do this? What’s the grand scheme of things? How is this supposed to benefit the royals? Is this for military security? But, with that, comes the risk of further damage to the reputation of the royals—were they really going to risk that?
“Jeonghan—”
He snaps out of his thoughts.
“You must listen very carefully and you may not disclose this information to anyone.” She paused. “At least, not yet.”
“Yes, mother.”
“It seems that the General is a woman.”
He couldn’t stop himself from the question that slips. “Are you sure?”
His mother’s hesitancy doesn’t help the building nerves.
“Mother?”
“Well,” she says. “That’s what the General has disclosed.”
“Huh?”
“The details don’t matter,” she says. “I have limited information based on what the Empress’ servants know and what my servants have heard.” She tries to think. “Just know you are to be wed in a week once the General arrives. There will be a parade in his—her? Their?” She shakes her head. “There will be a parade in the honor of the General, followed by a celebration amongst the surviving soldiers, and the wedding will commence after.”
The Prince’s head is running with a million questions, yet his mother hasn’t answered any of them.
He sighs—the grip tightening on his mother’s hand. “Is there anything you can do?”
“My son, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.” She lifts her hand, softly caressing his face. “Had your father been alive, I would have more power.”
Prince Jeonghan fully sinks onto the floor—hands fallen down onto the rug and he ends up running his fingers on it, to distract himself of the current situation.
“Well, what happens now then, mother?”
The Princess Dowager sighs once more, softly petting her son’s head to comfort him. “Now, we wait.”
The dreaded week passes and Prince Jeonghan finds himself at the brothel once again—but this time, he’s alone. Well, alone as royalty can be. With a few guards outside the door, he sits in an isolated room with a sole glass in hand. The third floor’s open balcony provides fresh air, which is much needed regarding the stuffiness he feels from within.
The Prince lets out a heavy sigh, pouring another glass for himself and instantly drowning it down. Too much has happened throughout the week that it all felt like a blur. He’d felt as if he were a cow who knew when he would be shipped off to the slaughterhouse. Considering his current condition, he’d prefer to be an actual cow.
This so-called useless groom leans closer to the window, feeling the warm summer breeze shine on his skin. This is the closest to freedom he has been throughout the past week. And probably the last time he’ll feel this way.
As the matriarchs from his side of the family prioritized the wedding details, he’s been used and tossed aside as if he was some type of doll—due to his “uselessness as the groom” (as one of the officials had commented). The palace servants have been bombarding him with this-and-that—from fabrics for the royal attendees to menus as for what shall be served and down to the details of the cloth napkins. If the Prince is presented with another royal blue shade, he’s going to flip a table.
With the Prince’s internal struggle three flights above ground, below is where the peasants are rushing to prepare for the General’s return—flags are waved and flowers are prepped. The children are excited, playing amongst themselves, while the adults gather together to catch up and converse with one another.
“Have you heard the news?”
The Prince’s ears pick up on the conversation. Picking up a fan, he covers the lower half of his face as he leans out the window, despite how little it actually does to disguise his face.
“The General completely obliterated the Chinese army—killed their general and their second-in-command barely managed to escape.”
“Didn’t he meet his end as well?”
There’s a staggered huff before the person responds.
“Considering how the General is practically inhumane with his killings, I wouldn’t be surprised if the body count was higher.”
“I would fear for my life had I faced the General on the battlefield.”
“Or in person.”
There’s a snicker.
“Well, you do have to acknowledge his skills.”
“The General is titled as a general for a reason.”
“Yes, this is a joyous occasion. We must celebrate Korea’s success!”
They skip off into oblivion that the Prince can only imagine. It’s in this case that the peasants are living in the luxury that the royal yearns for once more. To the commoners, their hero was to return home—whereas Prince Jeonghan’s hell begins with the General’s arrival.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. The beat of the drums is faint and distant, but still present. Everyone scrambles as the sound of galloping horses by the hundreds approaches closer and closer towards the gates. Even the Prince is flustered, the sudden arrival of his fiancee prompting him to scatter and flee out of his private room.
“My Prince!” A guard calls, chasing after him.
“My Prince,” another yells. “Why are you running?!”
“To escape my problems!”
“At least use the carriage, my Prince!”
“No!”
The Prince runs, passing by various groups of guests and their companions—practically jumping down the numerous flights of stairs and nearly diving into groups of strangers as he makes his way out of the brothel.
Meanwhile, the street has been cleared to create a path for the most distinguished general of Korea. Rose petals have been prepared and spread throughout, creating colorful layers to welcome the heroes back home. The flags are up, flapping against the wind and shining its beautiful colors in the bright, warm sunshine. The horses are approaching much closer—leading to much excitement with the townspeople.
At the main gates, you rest on your horse, pulling its reins to stop its tracks. Your army follows afterwards—Dongho, Jisoo, and Namjoo behind you. For a moment, everything is still. The blue fabric blows lightly against the wind, in contrast to the shiny black armor that remains tightly wound on your body.
With your approach (and a glimpse of the signature colors of the flag and your armor), the head guards open the main gates to allow your entry. You and your army make its way through the gates, eventually moving past the countryside and closer to the capital.
A shower of petals greets you and you have to hold back a smile at the sight. The townspeople are greeting you with shouts of greetings and praises, tossing grains as you and your army pass as a congratulations and welcome back home. With your head held high, you lead your way through the flowery path laid out for your army and head towards the palace, where you know your punishment awaits.
As you move throughout the town, your men quickly navigate their ways back to their respective homes—their families, wives, children, and whatnot. Even Dongho makes his way back home (saying something about setting back into his hut for tranquility and peace).
You know you should pop in to check with your grandfather, but you have more pressing matters on your hands. It is the King after all.
The nerves start to get to you as you approach the palace gates, leaving you with Namjoo and Jisoo at your side once more. Your jaw clenches: the threats of a beheading are becoming more and more realistic as you make your way past the palace guards. The anxiety must have been obvious to have the paternal twins notice.
“General,” Namjoo softly calls from her horse. “After what you have contributed, you have nothing to fear.”
You nod, trying to convince yourself that it will not be as bad as it can be. She’s right: you have many accomplishments and the aftermath of a war can easily lead to another. They need you. The worst case scenario is the death penalty…
… And the dread has returned.
“I know it’s a lot to process,” Jisoo says. “But, we’re right here besides you.” She holds out her hand, which you take and hold onto. “Through thick and thin.”
“Through thick and thin,” you repeat.
The hand isn’t dropped until you can make out the stairs of the main court, where the King is seated outside—awaiting for your return.
You pull on the reins; your horse whining a bit, eventually calming down as you shush him. You and your guards climb your way down your horses, walking towards the Emperor to properly greet him. On the third step, you kneel on your knee (followed by Jisoo and Namjoo) and bow your head down.
“Greeting to your majesty.”
“Accepted,” the King says. “Welcome home, General (Y/L/N).”
“Thank you, your majesty.”
“Congratulations on your victory.”
“Thank you, your majesty.”
“On that note,” the King says. “Let us get straight to business.” He stands up, his hands folded behind him, and walks through the open doors, where the throne is present.
Without a word, you three follow him into the court—keeping a safe distance. The King makes himself comfortable on the throne and you keep your head low, awaiting for his decision to be made… or announced. You’re still unsure as to where this is all going.
A moment of silence passes and he speaks once more.
“I have kept the court calm for now,” he says. “However, as some of the officials are still upset, we have come to a decision for your… announcement.”
Your heart stops with each second he pauses, unaware of the chaos about to be unloaded onto you.
“You are to be wed to my second-nephew, Yoon Jeonghan.” There’s a pause. “Consider it a gift from the royal family, who is forever in your debt for your military contributions.”
You feel your heart actually dropping to your stomach. Your eyes are the only indicator of your internal panic, considering how they move around—unsure as to where they go.
“Thank you, your majesty,” you manage to say. “I will forever remember your generosity for my crime.”
He holds up a hand, stopping you. “You have to remember that with this generosity, it is also your punishment.”
“Pardon, your majesty?”
There’s a sad smile on his face—a look that was similar to your father’s. “It’s generous for your deception, but it is still a punishment nevertheless. While he may be my nephew, I’m afraid he’s rather useless.” He sucks in a breath, trying to pick his next words carefully. “Your punishment is a pretty, but useless husband.”
Your confusion is still apparent, considering how the King continues to speak—helping you understand the reasoning behind the court’s logic.
“(Y/N),” he says.
You freeze at the use of your first name.
“You are the most distinguished general of our time, but you are still a woman. You have to be wed, especially at your age. Consider the repercussions had this happened at a later age.”
You hear him make his way down, but you don’t dare to look up.
He places a hand on your shoulder. “This is a good thing, (Y/N).”
Yes, you think to yourself.
This is a good thing.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Please don’t ask about updates. If you would like to see when the next part will be updated, check out the upcoming works post.