toil and tansy | taekook

Chapter One

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When Jeongguk ascends it is not with fanfare. It is not with trumpets or celebrations or a feast in his name - honoring the names of his ancestors and blessing his future.

When Jeongguk ascends it is with tears and blood, with shaky hands and trembling lips. It is repeating the oath of his father before him with blood splattered across his face and his father's cold hand in his own. It is with his mother faint in his uncle's arms and his sister face down in a pool of her own blood.

When Jeongguk ascends he ascends alone, and at the cusp of war.

And so he is pulled in - uncertain and unsteady as he directs soldiers who doubt his strength. Wavering under the gaze of the other fae lords who are waiting for him to fall.

And then there is a howl. A call he does not recognize.

A tribe he is not familiar with strides through his castle doors without a second look and Jeongguk is struck by their lack of social graces and the smears of blood across their faces.

Werewolves, he now recognizes. Savages who reject the modernity of a fae-ruled society, content to spend their days hunting and among their kin.

When Jeongguk ascends he is alone amongst his people, but it is with the newly crowned pack chief, a man who introduces himself as Taehyung with fresh blood across his teeth and damp bones hanging from his neck, that he rules.

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It is only a week after the butchering of the Fae Court when Jeongguk witnesses the scales tipping in their direction. When the horror is still fresh in his mind but the stress of the court weighs heavy on his shoulders.

"Namjoon, if I have to listen to one more noble petitioning to have his destroyed barn, or home, or - or whatever repaid by the crown I will simply expire." Jeongguk groans into the papers across his desk, the weight of his crown slipping from his head. He hears his advisor snort, boots thumping across the scratched floors as he approaches the king.

"These are simply the duties of the crown, Your Majesty," Namjoon murmurs, gently tugging the papers from beneath Jeongguk's cheeks, and Jeongguk only groans again. "You know we must-,"

"Yes, yes, you do not need to tell me again," Jeongguk pushes himself upright, pushing a tired hand through his hair. It has fallen over his forehead, his mediocre attempt of looking as pristine as his station requires falling flat. His father had always looked so regal, Jeongguk remembers with a deep-seated ache. "What is left?" The look on Namjoon's face sours and Jeongguk feels his gut twist. He twists to stare out the office windows. Jeongguk can see the town's clocktower in the distance, still draped in the black fabric of his country's continued mourning. "Ah."

"Avertas is adamant that we uphold the agreement-,"

"If they wish to arrange a marriage with a corpse," Jeongguk says coldly, the exhaustion heavy on his shoulders; he holds back a flinch at his own words, swallowing back the grief, "then by all means - arrange it. The agreement between Prince Sujin and Eunji is defunct, they know this as well as I. I won't play their little games any longer."

Namjoon's lips twist, anxiously cracking his knuckles. "Your Majesty,-" he coughs at the look Jeongguk casts over his shoulder, "Jeongguk, I fear that they will continue to pursue this as a reason for war. With no alliance, there is nothing to keep them pushing past our borders."

Jeongguk hums, eyes still locked on the clocktower. War, hm? He runs his fingers through his hair again, tugging at the strands with a deep, heavy sigh. "I fear that is no longer simply a worry, Namjoon," he says quietly, and he can almost pretend to see the crimson flag of Avertas' armies crossing the horizon, marching to the beat of their king's drum.