Lord Of The Wolves

In Winter, The Winds Sing

They return to the scene, but not without misgivings instilled within their every movement. Fortunately, not one person dared to chastise them for their actions -much too convinced by Namjoon's quick and enlightening speech about the forerunners in Waluwei Empire's progressing reign in the eastern lands.

Much is to be credited to his impressive skills to lure nosy guests into a tirade of arguments (though still as civil as the place ought to be). Needless to say, a debate might be the most probable resolution to distract the guests from the scene Jungkook was unable to refrain from doing.

He still sags at the feel of Master's disapproving eyes, feeling remorseful of his actions. His tracks are riddled by the sight of perking ears and bulging irises. Jungkook paces his breathing with the clanking of his heels and exhales heavily to grasp some form of respite.

"My apologies," He doesn't stutter, just as what Seokjin would expect of him. He haughtily raises his chin but soon finds the action unwanted as the audience peer back, affronted by his posed arrogance. The tension is short-lived, however, when they hear Jungkook fumbling with his words, as if uncertain. "I...uhm, I- I simply needed a bathroom break?"

Jimin stares at the scene, unable to contain a cough of laughter. He hears the women giggle behind him, tinted nails and fluttering fans shadowing their motherly grins. It seems they're just as enamoured with the prince as Jimin was.

"Aw."

"Don't indulge him," Yoongi sighs tiredly.

"Nothing wrong with spoiling a dear brother." He retorts with a playful sniffle, "Ah, my bun-bun is growing up."

"Except he's still clumsy." Yoongi objects, "We can't have that with all these shiny, balding foreheads prowling 'round waiting to raise protests about his incompetence."

Jimin grumbles with his whole face, "Jungkook is far more capable than those promiscuous buffoons. They're just a bunch of idiots ready to sprint and lick the Master's boot for a bit of tasty liquor."

"Not to them. Not when he's an omegan royalty." Yoongi's voice deepens, sharp enough to warn the unwanted guests. His warnings of discontent are heeded almost immediately, as not one person dared to sway the omega's way.

Jungkook remains unsuspecting of the hungry eyes. He stands close by Hoseok's side, face void of any interest. Of course, at first glance, it does seem that way.

Jimin notes of the unease in Jungkook's stance. His cup of unattended wine sizzles in red too, the glistening tip steaming with apprehension. The younger's own eyes meander with feigned contemplation, he huffs a disgruntled nod in response to a guest's insistence for any form of talk. Beside him, Hoseok remains quiet, unable to interfere with the fiendish pursuit of the said visitor as he chatters about the famed Omegan Revolution in the far end of Southern tribes.

Jimin sees the old man continue without any suspicion of both figures' growing discomfort. The man steps further into an unguarded distance and jests about an unpleasant joke that Jungkook giggles at out of obligation. Hoseok doesn't seem amused, however.

It was then that Jimin took it upon himself to restrain his brother from blasting the tiled flooring beneath them. He wonders absently if the King would appreciate his prevention of unnecessary expenses.

"Care for a dance?"

The voice is deep but sweet –just as what Jimin surmises to be a peaceful retaliation. He doesn't give away the mistrust in his tone. He delivers them in his stare, judging the old man with a dismal look.

"Ah, but I was hoping to ask him first-"

"It's not a race now, is it?"

"Well..."