Your Divine Grace {NamJin}

eighteen

Hoseok and Seokjin worked together to carry the sleeping bodies into the beds of the infirmary, almost unable to suppress their boiling emotions as they carried friends and even a child into their care. Morning was on its way, and some were beginning to show signs of consciousness and life again. With the rising of the sun and the death of the bloody night behind them came a new dawn, and a rebirth from the cold ashes that once burned with the vigor of an old life's searing blaze.

The faint scent of red wine wafted up their burning nostrils and down their throats as they picked up body after body and took them to the infirmary. Sungkyung hadn't lied when he said he used red wine, Seokjin realized, almost having to cover his nose and mouth due to the strong smell of red grapes and alcohol. Red stains covered everyone's robes, and upon carrying each person, Seokjin attempted to hold his breath for as long as he could before coughing his strained lungs out.

"Thank you for your help, Seokjin-sshi," Hoseok said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Seokjin smiled back, masking the pang of brokenness he truly felt on the inside. Nodding his head, he exhaled with a shaky breath, revealing some of the torn heartstrings on the guitar of his emotions.

"I-I'm going to get some clean...clothes, and...things," he muttered, unable to keep his composure. He walked away, coughing and allowing more tears to fall freely from his melted chocolate eyes.

Hoseok watched him walk away, concerned for his emotional state. Namjoon, he thought, shaking his head. Where are you?

"Hyung? What are you doing?" Jimin asked, kneeling next to Namjoon. The departed king was kneeling on the floor over a wet ink brush, a pot of black ink and a piece of parchment paper covered in aesthetically pleasing symbols of Hangul. Looking up at Jimin, the royal smiled, clearly proud of himself and his work so far.

"I'm writing a letter to Seokjin-ah," he said, grinning more.

"Ah," Jimin said, smiling back. He loved seeing his friend genuinely happy for once during the entire trip, which felt more like exile for everyone. Leaning his head on Namjoon's shoulder, the young man skimmed over the letter before them.

"...miss you with all my heart...sorry I had to be gone so long...ache to hold you in my arms again..." Jimin whispered, reading over the letter with half interest until he saw a certain sentence.

"...I can't wait to see you again...we'll be together once more in three days..."

Jimin looked up at Namjoon with the eyes of a little boy looking up at the father who'd just promised to take him to a candy shop. He begged that what Namjoon had written wasn't a joke or false reassurance, and the king confirmed with a smile and a nod.

"Yoongi's been going around, surveying the land and making sure no traces of conspiracy have been circulating. It's safe now. We can finally go home."

Jimin immediately got up and ran around, wanting to pick up things and pack up already. He missed the palace, he missed his friends, he missed Jungkook, he missed his life. The time outside the palace and away from the strict self-discipline that a soldier of his caliber had to take on might've been refreshing for the first few weeks, but month after month became so repetitive and routine for him that life lost its spice and its flavor, which he felt he needed to survive.

Park Jimin was a soldier before he was a general. At sixteen, he left his home in the eastern half of the kingdom to become part of the army, going home to his mother on holidays and much appreciated days off. His mother raised him alone, offering all the love, care and support a mother could possibly give; his father had been in an affair with his wife, and when Jimin's mother found out she was the other woman, she left him -- and took her child with her. Although she tried to shield Jimin from the truth, he eventually found out and swore to himself that he never wanted to meet him in his lifetime. Using that as his motivation, he continued to work hard and go up in rank until Namjoon himself swore him in as general.

When he was with Namjoon, he felt the hole where a missing parental figure should've been fill up and hold up the beautifully designed house that was Park Jimin. He'd almost caught himself wondering where he was when his mother was getting married. Jimin felt himself wanting to make Namjoon proud and keep him standing as long as he possibly could. Once Jimin made up his mind, nothing in the world could stop him -- and he had made up his mind to help and protect Namjoon.

"Jimin, come on, we still have to wait three days"--

"You have to finish that letter, hyung. You have to finish it. Sign it off, and I'll ask Yoongi-hyung to deliver it. Please, please hyung, we have to go home. I'm counting those days off, hyung."

"Okay, okay, Jimin," Namjoon chortled, signing off the letter after finishing it.

"Yoongi-hyung!" Jimin practically screeched, "Yoongi-hyung! Come deliver this for us, please!"

Namjoon laughed at the cute little boy fidgeting and jumping around. If he was any more hyper, he would've bounced off the walls of the shack.

"What's all the commotion"-- Yoongi began, walking into the small abode. He was immediately greeted by a hyper, unruly Jimin, who shoved the letter into his chest.

"Yoongi-hyung, deliver this to Seokjin-hyung, please! Do it quick! We're going to go home in three days, and he has to know! Can you believe it, hyung? We're finally going home!"