Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Seokjin draws open the grand doors to his balcony with a pleasant sigh. The sky is clear, sun spilling radiantly over the castle grounds - something for which he feels especially grateful, as today the gardens just below his balcony are scheduled for upkeep. It's been raining the past several days, meaning garden work was postponed, and therefore a visit from one gardener in particular delayed as well. It's now been almost a full week since he's last enjoyed Namjoon's company, and he was feeling quite sore about it if anyone asked. No one would though, because only his closest friend knew about his unusual dynamic with the gardener, and he'd surely heard enough already.

He's already verified his looks are in top form this day. He wears a dress robe of bright rose gold satin that drapes elegantly over his strong shoulders and tapers at the waist. His long black hair is lustrous, tied back in one of his most elegant ribbons of a deep crimson. It's not that he thinks such trivial things are of concern to Namjoon, but he knows the impact it can make and for this audience, he wouldn't mind making such an impression. To see the man's eyes linger even just a moment over his countenance had never lost in its delight to Seokjin, foolish pastime though it may be.

Gazing out upon the gardens, he can see that Namjoon will have ample work today, trimming and weeding among flower beds that grew the slightest bit unkempt during these past several days. The rose bushes are overflowing and the lilies battling off several interloping weeds of the wildflower variety. He could already hear Namjoon's voice dipping into that familiar sad tone it would - the gardener had always hated to uproot wildflowers especially, but the head of the grounds gave little room for argument when it came to his designs. Perhaps, he thinks, Namjoon would salvage the flowers and he may find them in bouquet form later. His cheeks warm just the slightest at the idea.

Seokjin would often wonder how much more beautiful, free the already sightly grounds would be if Namjoon were given creative license in his work. He looks out and imagines. Instead of perfectly trim bushes in rows, there are meandering paths weaving through fields of flowers. Not only roses, lilies and the small collection of herbs that surround, but plants and flowers of all varieties, colors, values. Namjoon talked often of wishing he could grow a rare dawnflower for him, symbol of the Dawnfather that graced Seokjin's royal crest, but none have seen such a flower take root in many years. The cherry blossoms at least seemed to be thriving after the days of rain, blowing gently in the breeze as if greeting the prince. But no matter how many picturesque flowers and arrangements of greenery made up his view, it was the man tending to it midst them all that truly drew his eye.

Right on time, he spots Namjoon approaching from around the other side of the castle. His blond near chin length hair frames his face, a bit ruffled from the wind, and he wears the simple creme white robes given to him along with all other workers of the castle. It's clear from the light sweat upon his brow he's already been at work for some time. Seokjin can't help but to grin as he sees the dirt stains over the front of the robe where Namjoon often would absently wipe his hands without realizing. If pointed out, he would promptly apologize for appearing in such a state before the prince, but they both knew that Seokjin never minded. In fact, it was the idea of Namjoon in his most natural state that held more appeal to him, though he'd yet to voice the words.

The vast majority of garden upkeep remained in the front of the castle. All grand displays and flourish. They needed to make the best impression there for visitors, of course. The back of the structure, where Seokjin's balcony overlooked the more modest floral display, only saw important guests granted access to the private grounds, or those living on the premises. It was here on the balcony he'd come to know the other man before him now, from his second floor view. Just low enough to hear each other speak, but just high enough to be out of reach without additional tools. It wasn't as if Namjoon could be allowed into his chambers, even if he could reach the balcony. Yet another truth that he'd learned to grappled with, over the years, though sometimes the risk of it made his imagination’s works all the more tantalizing.

To the very edge of his view, he could see the small, unassuming building where castle hands lived. Where Namjoon spent much of his down time when not walking or working the grounds. As prince it was all but forbidden for him to step foot inside, so he'd never seen it up close. Nonetheless, he liked to imagine Namjoon there, reading his books and writing in his journal as he's so often mentioned. He wonders if Namjoon ever mentions him, in his entries. He wonders if he ever lies awake at night, thinking about him too.

When Namjoon looks up they make eye contact, and he allows himself to enjoy the beautiful transformation of his expression in response. The idea that he might bring Namjoon has much joy as he does him, with their morning conversations, is so tempting to embrace. He brushes that aside for now, opting to meet Namjoon's smile with one of his own, warm and full. He sees a few strands of hair drop into Namjoon's face and Seokjin's hand involuntarily warms at the mere fantasy of reaching out to brush it back. He casts this aside as well, clasping his hand tightly onto the banister instead. If the hand he saw now raised to greet him as Namjoon approaches were within reach, would he have the courage to take it in his?

"Namjoonie!" Seokjin waves the gardener over with a sweeping gesture now, already feeling his ears burn as they often decide to do in the other man's presence. These mornings are precious to him, his one piece of freedom to do what he likes, talk with whom he likes before he starts his meticulously scheduled day of studies, responsibilities and artifice. At least for a time he'd been allowed to grant audience to his people but even that had been taken away from him these past years. He knew that part of what drew him to Namjoon was this loneliness, this yearning to connect with and know someone. But he also believed that Namjoon was special, and even if he had all the friends in the world he'd still want to know him most of all.

"Good morn, your Highness," he greets brightly, the warm familiarity welcoming Seokjin to the new day. Namjoon doesn't talk to him like the others do, all expectations and demands, or fear and reverence. The gardener just treats him like a person - a friend, though it would be pure denial to say he didn't long for more each time. He'd come to accept his circumstance, some time ago. It was thrilling, that first rush he felt when he realized that in Namjoon he'd found someone willing to acknowledge him, his own ideas and opinions beyond just that of his royal position. For the first time, he’d encountered someone who met him as a prince but listened to him like his words mattered with or without such title. Over time, he’d even learned Namjoon was unafraid to push back, just that slightest bit, or hold his own, his way of letting Seokjin know that he values the discussions they have like equals with care. But while this refreshing dynamic planted the seed of the feelings within, it was the gardeners unique perspectives and charming personality that truly ensured they take root.

While Seokjin has been introduced to many people in his time at the castle, none of them have ever captured his heart the way Namjoon does with his open mind and genuine sentiments. At first, he'd only observed from afar, unable to stop his eyes from following the new gardener's form as he worked. Primarily curiosity driven, though he wasn't afraid to admit to himself some striking appreciation for the powerful way the man's hands seemed to work in the soil and greenery, the passion in his countenance as he did so. They'd gone on for some time, never speaking a word but quietly enjoying the fresh air of the morning in one another's company. Seokjin, sitting on the balcony, usually with his morning tea and sometimes a book. Namjoon, working away on the endless rows of flower bushes. One morning, he had felt certain he could sense a set of eyes on him as he leaned against the balcony railing, looking off into the distance past the castle gates. But when he would turn back towards the garden, Namjoon would immediately drop his gaze to the flowers at hand. For some time they continued as such, clearly both fascinated but neither willing to say the first word. The risk was different for Namjoon, Seokjin knew, but that didn't change the fact of his own hesitance, unfortunately.

In the end it'd taken perhaps divine intervention from some perhaps ancient wind force to prompt their first real interaction. A gust of wind, strong enough that it pulled the deep purple ribbon from Seokjin's hair. It'd been hastily done that morning when Seokjin overslept and realized in a panic that he might miss his morning of unspoken camaraderie with the gardener, so it wasn't a difficult feat for the wind to manage. They'd both let out a noise of surprise, Seokjin's hand going up automatically to catch his hair before it could completely fall free. Much to his amusement, he saw Namjoon drop his garden tools to go running after the ribbon, tripping only once on his own pile of discarded branches in such haste.

Bright eyes meeting his as Namjoon held the ribbon up in triumphant victory, smile broad, was enough to make Seokjin's heart skip a beat. For weeks following, and further even still, he was unable to shake how gingerly, lovingly the man's strong hands handled his catch. When he later that afternoon found a small bundle of fresh lavender tied in said ribbon, left on the garden bench for him, he knew it was only the first time of many his heart would be victim to the gardener's charms.

Conversation became a new habit, then, and one that only grew with the passing of seasons. Some mornings, such as with the current, he would take ample effort with his ensemble just to see the effect it might have on Namjoon - a deep red with an equally deep neckline earned him wide eyes and light blush, for a black robe decorated in small diamonds he received a comparison to the night's sky. Somewhere along the line, he'd started selecting his books from the castle library based on stories or authors Namjoon had mentioned or ones he might enjoy. Somewhere along the line, the comforting timbre of Namjoon's voice as they shared more and more became his morning's song.

Back in the present, he looks towards the man in question and smiles thinking of how far they've come now. How far will they go, he wonders? There's a gust of wind as Namjoon replies, and though the air is warm he finds himself fighting down a shiver. His eyes can't help but to linger on the way the gardener's robes drape and billow over his form.

"...especially radiant today!"

He catches just the end of Namjoon's statement. Something strikes him in the way that Namjoon looks right at him as he speaks, but he doesn't have the luxury of time to consider it and simply nods. He drops seats himself into the ornate chair that sits at the balcony's edge. He assumes he's understood the gist of Namjoon's words, replying as such.

"The sun is quite strong this day, I agree. I was glad to see an end to the rain we've had."

Namjoon's expression seems to shift, though it's hard to be certain, brow furrowing the slightest before he shrugs. Namjoon's glance drops back down to the flowering bush in front of him as he begins work pruning. When he looks back up, there's a sparkling glint of jest in his eyes, obvious even from Seokjin's vantage.

"Did you miss me so much, your Highness?"

"Namjoon!" Seokjin says in mostly mock surprise at the question, knowing his expression likely gives away how close to home the sentiment is.

Yes, his mind supplies, he missed him quite much. In fact, he misses him sometimes even only moments after they've parted. What if he were to tell Namjoon this, now? He thinks to himself. What if tells him that seeing him, looking forward to these morning conversations, sometimes it's all that he has. Sometimes it's all that he wants. How would Namjoon feel if he knew these sentiments swirling in his heart right now as he regards him warmly?

"What if I did?" He finally asks, the words slipping out. He allows himself to relish in Namjoon's pleased reaction, locking it away before his resolve crumbles and he follows the question up to distract from the thought.

"After all, we never finished discussing the last chapter of our book."

"Ah, so it's our book now? I thought last week you were saying you didn't know if it was your kind of story?"

"That was before such a surprise ending!"

"Ah, but does an ending make a story?" Namjoon challenged, and Seokjin realized he was far on the edge of his seat with the excitement of the exchange between them.

The time passes by quickly. Always too quickly, with Namjoon. Before he's done expressing his fondness for the closing scene of the chapter, Namjoon's work has finished and thus so has the excuse for his idling. Seokjin knows that Namjoon works as diligently, patiently as he possibly can but he can only slow himself so much. It doesn't get easier, either, each time they have to part ways when there's so much more Seokjin wants to say. So much he would love to do, if they weren't confined by so many walls and gates and guards.

He's tried more than once now, to enact schemes that would bring him somehow, someway, closer to the gardener. He'd already requested permission numerous times to stroll the garden during the morning hours and had been denied for a variety of reasons. He'd attempted to request a small selection of plants for decorating his room and balcony, in the hopes that he might later request Namjoon to care for them, only to be given artificial plants he was too embarrassed to even let Namjoon see.

Once, after a particularly sleepless night, he'd heavily considered feigning a slip from the balcony's edge just enough to require Namjoon's rescuing. There would be little risk of real injury, but high chance of seeing concern in those arresting eyes of his up close. He hadn't entirely ruled that idea out yet, if he was being honest with himself.

Today, he hoped, would signal the return to their daily talks prior to the heavy rains. Perhaps he was a lovesick fool, perhaps it was silly or sentimental, and perhaps it made little difference to Namjoon but Seokjin didn't think he could tolerate another week without seeing that smile shining in the sunlight.

Often, his friend, the one to whom he has voice many such thoughts for lack of anyone else to share, was concerned all of this would end in heartbreak. How else would it possibly be for a prince in a castle who awaits the commoner who tends to flowers?

But as he watches Namjoon now, clearly reluctant to leave as he waves sadly, he can't help but to let himself hope just a bit more. And with just that seed of hope, so much can more blossom.

Later, when he would find a new small bundle of snipped flowers in the same place that had become theirs for Namjoon to bestow his small sentimental tokens, precious in ways far beyond value, he came to conclude that he only wanted to let the seed grow.

The next morning the sun is shining again. He gives thanks to whomever of the gods decided to take pity on his softened heart, and gets himself out of bed to prepare. Today he wears a vibrant, sea blue robe that Namjoon has paid compliments in the past (though there are few items in his wardrobe that have not heard a kind word from the gardener). As he ties up his hair, an idea strikes him and he goes to grab the bouquet bundle from the day prior.

It's with a self-satisfied smirk that he sits on his balcony some time later, waiting for Namjoon's arrival once more. Namjoon is minutes later than usual, making Seokjin only the slightest bit nervous in this time. But arrive he does, all sweeping legs and penetrating gaze. When he takes in Seokjin, what he sees is not just the robe, but two of the gifted flowers. One, tucked into the ribbon that keeps his hair up and the other behind his ear. They're pink blooms, with a slight yellow at the tips.

"Your Highness," Namjoon greets, slightly breathless and Seokjin can tell instantly that his adornment has had the intended affect.

"I'm incredibly glad you liked my small gift. It suits you so." He seems to be overtaken with sentiment for some seconds, before shaking his head of it.

"I wish I could give you more," he admits.

"Don't, Namjoonie. I love it. Always love your gifts."

"I'm thankful, then. I hope, perhaps..." He trailed off, lost in thought for a time as Seokjin held bated breath for what he would say.

"Ah, never mind it. How are you this morn, your Highness? The sun decided to grace us again, you must be pleased, no?"

And so passed another morning of lively conversation, meaningful glances, longing thoughts. It was easy to fall back into his usual habits, with the storm season seemingly behind them, and to rely upon the comfort of such a routine. He continued, on occasion, to consider that balcony ledge, and to ruminate on other schemes that would only gain him the ire of his protectors.

Sometimes, most times late at night and alone, he would ponder other possibilities. Realms where he could sit, eye to eye with Namjoon, where they could spend any endless amount of time talking, enjoying. A day where, maybe, they're not at the castle but some place far away. A home of their own making. Each night he dreams this and more, and each day he continues to make his peace with their arrangement. He wakes, he dresses, he devours his allotted time with the other as hungrily as he does his breakfast. Then he faces the rest of his somber day, until night comes and his imagination can roam free again.

He finds himself rereading an old favorite one evening, building a shield of words from his own reality, buried in the soft of his bed. As he reads of the young noble and his squire on their journey, Seokjin realizes his mind has supplied a particular image of each character unbidden. The squire, with all his heart and bravery beyond station, takes on a visage not unlike his Namjoon of the gardens - blond somewhat unkempt hair and bright, curious eyes. In the noble, he can't help but to see himself - charming and spirited but with a longing for something more.

Seokjin knows the perils and bonding moments that await the two in their fictional adventure. He's read the words and let them come to life before his eyes time and time again. He knows that they find happiness, in the end. Though his life is no storybook, Seokjin can't help but to wonder, as he runs fingers over the worn pages, if he will find his one day. Even more, he can't help but to wonder if his path there will cross, and perchance entwine with Namjoon's like a set of shy hands. Perhaps he hopes for it, in the quiet of that night, unknowing of all that's to come and just how untangled the fates would be for the prince and his blossoming companion.

Early morning on the castle grounds. All is quiet. Namjoon lies in bed, his state between sleep and consciousness. For a single precious moment, he thinks of home. Then he allows his mind to indulge as he is so apt to do during such unguarded hours. He wonders if Seokjin is awake now, in his chambers, and what he might be contemplating at such a time. He falls back asleep over the vision of hair strewn on silken sheets, a smile only for him.

Smoke. Why does he smell smoke? Namjoon wakes again with an urgent start, jumping out of his bed as he sees others in the quarters beginning to do the same.

"Fire! Fire!" He hears someone shouting, and shock strikes into his body as he wills himself to move. He checks the small building for those he's called his companions these past years on the castle estate. Most have already vacated, but Namjoon helps the two remaining rouse and alerts them to the pressing matter. Swiftly, he grabs only his a few important possessions: his journal, a favorite book, a small pouch of seeds and of course the elegant ribbon Seokjin had gifted him some months prior (the accompanying backstory a tale of wind force and the melodious giggle he heard in response to his miraculous catch). Tossing them all into a canvas bag, he rushes out to be met with blinding heat, flashing fires raging throughout the grounds. For a brief moment, he wants to mourn his work every day on the greenery, but his priorities quickly re-shift when he hears the distinct sound of metal clashing. It dawns on him then. This isn't just an accidental mishap - this is an attack, on the castle. A swear slips past his lips, then he swallows hard.

"Seokjin," he immediately murmurs to himself and the flames, knowing in an instant what he needs to do. His urge falters when he comes upon the others who remain huddled behind the building. It's the groundskeeper who speaks up, voice gruff and unaffected as though he's seen far too many mornings like this one. He sees the older man exchange a look with the head of the staff, a gentle but commanding woman who was always kind towards Namjoon despite his outsider status. The groundskeeper then turns and gives Namjoon a hard look.

"You're going to His Highness," he states plainly before Namjoon even voices his desire to do so. When Namjoon doesn't deny, he receives a curt nod in response.

"You can get him to safety?"

"Yes," he replies instantly. He will get him to safety, he's already decided before anything else. The how can come later.

"Then go. We'll get the back gate unlocked and head south to the village there."

As Namjoon readily accepts his task, he can't help but to think back to the first day he met Groundskeeper Jun. The gleam he'd seen in the man's eye as he decided not to turn him away, to give him a chance with no obvious reason to do so. He hopes he'll have chance to toil under the sun with him again. The groundskeeper rests a hand on his shoulder.

"His Highness is well loved by those who know him. If there’s any hope left in this realm, it’s in him. Perhaps this is the needed turning point, for the boy to take the throne as he should."

Namjoon feels himself grow overcome with emotions at the words. Though he may agree with the groundskeeper's assessment of Seokjin's warmth and kindness towards all, the concept of the prince reaching for the throne was daunting and uncertain to him. Given the urgency of the moment, he had little time to consider it further, watching as the people he's known these past years retreat towards the gates. All that matters now is getting to Seokjin, and getting out of here.

Set in his purpose, he darts around through the paths he can find towards the balcony he's spent so much time below. The windows are shut. He can clearly hear the commotion is at the front of the castle - which is the only viable entrance Seokjin could use to leave otherwise.

"Your Highness!" He attempts to shout loud enough with shaking voice for Seokjin to hear, but quiet enough to not attract any unwanted attention. When he gets no response, he chews on his lip for a moment. There's no time, he laments to himself, trying to convince his brain to resist panic. Finally he picks up a small stone from the ground, solid and smooth in his hand. He immediately throws it with all his might towards the window. It doesn't break through, but it does form a crack and he hopes, make a noise that would rouse Seokjin from slumber. Defacing the castle, especially the prince's chamber, was an offense that could send him to a cell but he couldn't bring himself to care. He needs to know that Seokjin is okay, he needs to- the window is opening, and he feels relief flood through him at the sight of the prince. His gaze is clearly cloudy from being awoken so abruptly at this early hour, but he comes quickly to alertness when he sees Namjoon below. He still wears his sleep clothes, hair clearly thrown hastily back. In any other circumstance, Namjoon would have averted his glance, but there are more important matters at hand.

"Namjoonie? Gods, what's going on?" He asks in bewilderment, though Namjoon could see in mere seconds Seokjin beginning to put the pieces together.

"The castle is under siege, your Highness, they could reach your wing at any moment. Please, let me help you. We need to get you out, to-" He didn't entirely know what he wanted to say next. He'd committed to this, but what was his plan? Get Seokjin out of the castle - but where would he be safe? He didn't want to voice such a thought to the prince at this time, but with the usual security levels they kept, any onslaught like this needed at least one individual familiar with the castle - or some other nefarious means of obtaining such information. No, Namjoon didn't trust any of the others there to ensure Seokjin's safety.

Seokjin was grappling with this, with the urgency in Namjoon's plea.

"But my guards-"

"Those who are truly your guard would want you safe, would they not? And I don't see that any are coming..."

Emotions flicker over Seokjin's face. Namjoon thinks he is going to protest further, as he opens his mouth once and closes it. But then his face hardens and he simply sets his mouth into a line with a small nod.

"Give me just a moment," he says, before disappearing back into the chamber. Namjoon wracks his brain for anything that could help the predicament, before a breakthrough strikes - the ladder! He knew there was one on the grounds that he'd used for pruning the vines over the side of the castle, he just had to remember where it would be. He realizes then, he'd last seen it leaning against the kitchen building. He takes off at full speed, slowing only once when he sees a clear view of the battle raging at the front doors of the castle. Torn asunder. By the time he returns, Seokjin is back on the balcony. He has a large knapsack slung over his shoulder, a long elegant jacket with swirling designs thrown over his silk bed clothes.

Before Seokjin could question Namjoon's disappearance, he made apparent the tall ladder he now carried.

"Come now, they've breached the castle, we have to hurry," he urges, setting the ladder against the bottom edge of the balcony. It just barely reaches.

Seokjin is ready to step over the banister, before a thought seems to occur to him.

"Hold on," he says, disappearing again, Namjoon's heart only beating faster each second that the other man is gone from his vision. When he returns again, he slides a sword into his jacket's belt loop. He makes haste throwing himself over the banister and onto the top of the ladder.

Namjoon isn't sure if it's the rush of adrenaline or seeing Seokjin up close for the first time after so long caring for him from afar that leaves him breathless when Seokjin has finished climbing down. Perhaps a bit of both, he decides, before taking a plunge even deeper into feelings he's buried all this time as he offers his hand.

Seokjin hesitates only a moment, before approaching commotion stirs them both into action and next thing Namjoon knows they're running. Seokjin's hand is both reassuring and heart shattering in his as they move. Namjoon doesn't entirely know where he's leading them until they reach the the outskirts of the grounds. It only takes him seconds to decide that yes, he does trust Seokjin enough to bring him where he now intends to make their destination. They will be safe there, at least, which is more important than keeping his secrets. He only hopes the others will feel the same.

"They...they destroyed your beautiful gardens..." He hears Seokjin whisper sadly as they steal one last glance at the castle grounds they've both called home for two years now. Namjoon feels his heart swell at the genuine way Seokjin seems to be affected by this, but he simply shakes his head.

"Not my concern right now, your Highness, just have to get you to safety."

Seokjin snaps his gaze back towards him then, though Namjoon is reluctant to meet it, afraid his sentiment will be far too obvious. This isn't about his feelings, this is about the prince and his life, of course. He can hear a familiar voice prodding him now, in the back of his mind. Since when do you care so much about the Crowners? He would ask. Since him, his mind supplies far too quickly. Since Seokjin, he cares more than he ever has before.

Fortunately Seokjin doesn't seem to see anything alarming when he looks at him, his attention straying to the battle raging too close for comfort. They need to move before someone spots them, but his feet feel rooted. A moment of self chastising - he let himself get far too used to his life here, his comfortable existence as gardener for this castle far away. He can't imagine what this is like for Seokjin, locked away for so long. He doesn't question that this is the best decision, though.

"Wait, Namjoonie, the stables-"

Seokjin's outburst interrupts his contemplation, and he follows his eye line to where Seokjin is pointing. Fortunately the building hasn't caught fire, and he again chastises himself for not thinking to check sooner. No reason for the creatures here to suffer for man's squabbles.

"We should take horses, we'll move faster," Seokjin explains, already taking the lead to pull them both in the direction of the stables. Namjoon's expression turns sheepish. It makes sense. Certainly, horseback will get them further than travel on foot, but also-

"I um. I can't- I mean, I've never...rode..." He answers, biting down on his lip, suddenly dropping Seokjin's hand. He feels foolish for a moment - how selfish was he to have not considered that perhaps Seokjin will be better off, safer, without him? He was certainly capable enough to handle himself.

"Oh," is all that Seokjin says in response, as they arrive at the stables. Without any more preamble or discussion, they both set to opening gates so that the scared animals can escape if needed. When he reaches one stable in particular, Seokjin stops him.

"Wait," he says quietly, opening the gate himself and greeting the horse with a gentle smile despite everything.

"Hello beautiful, remember me? It's been a while. You want to go on an adventure?"

The horse is a soft tone of cream with faint brown spotting through its fur. The long white mane is well kept and looks soft to the touch, a slight wave in the hair. If observing the horse under less dire circumstances, he could perhaps enjoy picturing one of Seokjin’s hair ribbons adorning the beautiful animal. Instead Namjoon can only watch as Seokjin runs hands over said mane, fond, familiar. There's another tug at Namjoon's heart, but he swallows it down in favor of going to open the rest of the gates, uncertain of Seokjin's thinking.

"Come on, we'll ride together," Seokjin insists, going to grab a few apples from the nearby barrel, along with a few of the equestrian supplies on a shelf and toss them into a sack. He hands an apple to Namjoon, who immediately understands what he's requesting. As Seokjin sets the saddle and gear, Namjoon offers the apple to the horse, who seems hesitant to trust to a stranger, as any being would be.

After taking a few curious sniffs seemingly to verify that the apple is in fact to its liking, the horse begins to eat. The action puts Namjoon almost at ease. He's always felt more comfortable in the presence of animals than most people anyway. When the horse has finished, he turns to find Seokjin regarding him thoughtfully. Affectionately?

"Fast friends, I see. Epiphany has always been an excellent judge of character."

Namjoon can't help but to smile when he hears that, despite everything at hand.

"Are you ready?" Seokjin asks, not wasting any more time as he climbs up and onto the saddle in one swift movement.

Namjoon sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of Seokjin mounted confidently on the horse now. It's perhaps the most regal he's ever seen him, even still in his sleep clothes and with a hood obscuring half of his handsome features. It only hits him now, what Seokjin meant when he said they'll ride together, as he offers his hand again. He swallows hard, wipes a clammy hand on his pants, and wonders who's rescuing who today.

His foot is unsteady as it steps into the stirrup but Seokjin's grip on his hand is sure, and in a flash he finds himself clumsily balancing onto the back of the horse behind the prince. He's met with a moment's hesitation, suddenly so very close to Seokjin's lean form. A chill goes down his spine in response to the intimacy, knowing ordinarily he would never, should never be granted this opportunity to feel Seokjin's warmth against him like this.

But when they hear a commotion, the word "prince" ringing out into the smoky air, it spurs them both into action.

"Hold on," Seokjin says, breathless.

Namjoon slides forward, wraps his arms snugly around Seokjin's waist as the prince takes the reigns. As they lurch forward at increasing speed, Namjoon scrambles to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation. At the same time, he's trying desperately not to let himself sink into the enticing flowery scent wafting off of Seokjin, the very solid body he's currently engulfing. Seokjin. This is the same Seokjin he has smiled up at on his balcony so many countless times, never daring to hope for anything more. The same Seokjin who was an heir to the kingdom, and whose life was in danger for that very reason this moment. It was not lost on him that he would, quite likely, if seen with so inappropriately close like this with the prince, spend the rest of his days in a cell. That's if Seokjin were to plea for his life, which knowing the other man, he undoubtedly would.

Seokjin's voice pulls him from his worries.

"Where- where to?" He asks, and Namjoon only notices then that during his inner turmoil he'd buried his face into the nape of Seokjin's neck. Seokjin doesn't comment on this, though Namjoon doesn't miss the way his voice wavers the slightest as he asks the question.

"Head west, follow the river," he replies hurriedly. He hopes he didn't cause the other discomfort, so he steels himself and pulls away the slightest, trying to leave more space between them while still gripping onto the other.

"No don't," Seokjin replies instantly.

"Please, stay close," he continues, and Namjoon feels his breath momentarily stolen again. Unable to voice an argument, he complies, moving in even closer than before.

"Don't want you falling off, is all," he hears Seokjin explain, barely audible over the wind that's picking up around them as the horse picks up to a full gallop.

Right, he thinks. Naturally.

He's hoping he won't fall, either, but perhaps not in the way Seokjin means.

The sounds of war horns and clashing weapons fall into the distance as they grow further and further from the castle. They've fallen into a quiet, as the rush of their escape fades into a slow sort of surreality of their situation. It only makes Seokjin hyper aware of Namjoon's touch, of the strong arms wrapped around him. He thinks he can feel his heart beating steadily against his back, but it's hard to tell over the hammering in his own chest.

Everything had happened so quickly. Waking up to the loud crack against his window, being greeted by the unexpected arrival of Namjoon. Very possibly, Namjoon had saved his life this day. Sweet Namjoon with his blooming flowers, honeyed words and his refreshing perspectives unlike any Seokjin has known in his sheltered life. They were really doing this - really leaving the familiar for the unknown, together. How can this be?

He's excited, of course, deep down. It can't be helped. After so long dreaming, to finally have the other man right there, it's exhilarating, terrifying, gratifying all at once. Perhaps his mixed emotions are in part, a reaction to these series of events that he hasn't fully wrapped his mind around. It's much easier, for the moment, to feel and maybe even enjoy the rush of being with someone he so admires, than to dwell on the very real threat to his life. Better to fixate on the way Namjoon had come to alert him so urgently, had looked at him like he was something so precious, than to let his thoughts linger too long on how it was the castle had been so forsaken.

After some hours of riding, he begins to feel an ache in his limbs. It's been so long since he's ridden like this - he missed it, though he wished it were under less dramatic circumstances. The sting of the wind against his skin and the thin layer of clothing he wears becomes sharply apparent as he begins to slow the horse.

"Are you alright, your Highness?" Namjoon asks in concern.

"Was just thinking, we should take a break, yeah?" They seemed far enough from the immediate danger to take a reprieve. He hadn't heard anyone pursuing them so far - he hoped that wouldn't change.

Namjoon seems to accept that, so Seokjin continues.

"And you don't have to- call me that. Especially not now."

"What? Your Highness, I couldn't-"

"Please, Namjoon. Just call me Seokjin."

He thinks Namjoon might resist, but instead he feels an exhale of breath against his neck.

"Okay. Yeah, okay." He desperately wishes he could see Namjoon's face without obviously turning around, because it feels like something important has shifted in his voice.

Instead, he guides the horse to a stop next to the nearest tree, takes a moment to grapple with the reality once again that they had truly done this. By now, surely his absence has been confirmed, and who knows what that would mean. Would these attackers send search parties? Would they think he's run away or been stolen away during the commotion? The question plaguing him most of all, the one he didn't want to contemplate this moment, not yet, does his uncle know? Does he care? Or was he the one who brought the army to his doorstep in the first place? He knows what the people say, when they think he can't hear them. That his uncle keeps him locked away to keep the crown for himself, that one day perhaps he'll do more than keep him by his lonesome in a castle far away from court. He refuses to believe it. If he's going to survive this heart intact, he has to believe there's another reason for all of this, a truth to words that the king tells his nephew when he claims this is all for his own good. What about his guards, at the castle? For so long they’d sworn to protect and yet when the time came, it was only Namjoon at his door.

He's pulled from his thoughts when Namjoon's grip around his waist loosens - it only occurs to him now, the comfort he'd taken from the very solid form against his. He aches at the empty feeling that the distance between them now leaves.

"Your- Seokjin," Namjoon corrects himself, saying the name with a level of care even beyond that which Seokjin has heard Namjoon save for his favorite plants or wordsmiths. It dulls the ache, a bit.

"I...am embarrassed but I'm not sure I know how to get down..."

Seokjin was unprepared for the rush of affection that would wash over him in response to the small admission, laughing quietly. The next several minutes are spent carefully guiding Namjoon through the process of safely dismounting a horse - he only tumbles once, and it happens to be into Seokjin's arms when he does.

Seokjin forgets the ache again for a while longer.

Soon enough, they're both settled on the ground against a large tree that Namjoon told him the name of, but it's been a long day and he's not exactly up to retaining that kind of information.

They sit in relative silence for a while, catching breath, undoubtedly both with many thoughts on their minds. It starts to really sink in then, not only his own situation but the significance of what Namjoon had done for him. Absconding with a prince in the midst of a castle seizure - well, it wouldn't look good, no matter how much Seokjin would argue in his defense. He'd put his life on the line to help save Seokjin's, without a second thought. To say that Seokjin was touched would be an understatement. He'd always known Namjoon was an incredibly caring soul, and he guesses that he would have put forth the effort to to help anyone whose life was in such sudden danger. But it was a comfort, much needed at the moment, to allow himself to think perhaps he is special. All this time wondering if Namjoon cares as much for him as he does - he may not know what's in Namjoon's heart, but it was an indescribable feeling to know that their friendship matters to the gardener too. That he matters to Namjoon.

He steals a glance at the man now, his windswept hair and skin flush. His brow is the slightest furrowed, and Seokjin finds himself hoping he's not having second thoughts about this. Seokjin considers himself to be a smart, capable person. He's been looking out for himself in a harsh world his whole life but he isn't sure he could handle this alone - whatever this is. Is he only in hiding until the immediate danger passes, or is this a first step onto a new path entirely? For now, he's just going to take things one incredible moment at a time. Seokjin sees Namjoon finally drop his head back against the tree, letting out a sigh. He averts his gaze, resisting the urge to trace his eyes over the column of neck.

"I'm glad that we made it out, Seokjin. That you're okay."

"Me as well. And you too, Namjoonie. I'm glad that you're okay. If that fire had..."

"It didn't, and we're here. Together."

"We do always talk about how fun it would be to travel."

That earns him a small laugh.

"We do, don't we? Seokjin, there is no one I'd rather be with on this adventure," he says earnestly, and Seokjin thinks if Namjoon didn't already hold his heart it'd have made the leap now. He smiles.

"I feel the same, Namjoonie."

His hand rests against the tree root between them. If he were to move it, just a fraction, he could touch Namjoon's, but he doesn't.

"You should know, it wasn’t only me. The others helped. Groundskeeper Jun, all of the staff, they wanted me to get to you and ensured we would have a path out that back gate. I have faith they made it to the village safely."

This admission startles Seokjin slightly. Since leaving, his mind hasn't stopped thinking about all of the innocent individuals who called the castle property home, guards aside. To know now that they not only had a part in his own escape, but likely managed one of their own, meant everything. Changed everything, for him.

"Thank you, for telling me," he replies quietly.

"I will thank them too, in person one day." It's a declaration to which he intends to hold himself.

Some more time passes in thoughtful silence. He knows they will likely have to be on the move again soon. Epiphany continues to enjoy their shared break, finishing off the snack they'd offered. He feels glad he was able to take the horse with them. She was one of few personal connections he'd been able to take with him to the castle - though he hadn't done much in the way of riding, locked away as he was.

A thought occurs to him.

"So, I have to ask, you knew where to find a ladder all this time and you never came to see me properly?"

Namjoon seems truly stunned by the question, gaping at him rather cutely, a bit red in the face. Seokjin can't tell if he is just caught off guard by his actually voicing the question or if it truly hadn't occurred to him that he could do such a thing over the last two years.

"I..." he starts but stops.

"I'm only teasing, Namjoonie. It's okay," he speaks between quiet chuckles.

"Though, I certainly wouldn't have minded the visit."

They go quiet again for some time then. Over the few minutes, they drift closer, until it feels natural to rest his head against Namjoon's shoulder. It's strange - feeling like he knows the other so well, being so at ease with him, but being aware that today marks the first physical contact they've ever truly shared. If he allows himself, he could get lost in this. In the sensation of being with Namjoon so close, almost like this can be his daily existence.

Can it?

After a few more hours of riding, the sun is starting to set. They know the night will be a challenge, and spend a good amount of time discussing how to best handle it. When they catch a glimpse of a farm on the outskirts of the forest, they actually bicker a bit. Namjoon not wanting to involve anyone else, but Seokjin making the point that there's no way they'll survive this journey with only the light layer of clothes and meager food supply they both have. While the day hours are tolerable enough, night would be a different story. Both of them being exhausted and stressed, a bit nervous in this new territory of their relationship, the bickering turns into a small argument - the only time they'd ever had disagreements before weren’t over characters on a page.

In the end, Namjoon agrees to go see if he can get them anything useful, but under the condition that Seokjin stay behind just in case. Seokjin doesn't like separating, but he supposes he should pick his fights and agrees. A nervous energy creeps in as he watches Namjoon's retreating form head in the direction of the farm mere moments later. Time has never been a luxury for them, he supposes it wouldn't start now. He waits with Epiphany and occupies himself brushing the horse’s hair, telling himself there's no need to worry. But also, he’s unable to stop himself from thinking he won't let a petty argument be his last words with the other man. Dreadful scenarios keep flashing through his mind, of Namjoon letting himself be captured to spare Seokjin, of him trying to flee and the worst happening. Mere minutes have passed, but it feels like hours of waiting for Seokjin.

He's quite seriously considering barging into the farmhouse, consequences be damned, when finally, fortunately he sees the familiar tall figure of Namjoon approaching in the distance. He notices his arms are overly full, the most obvious baggage being what looks like two hefty woolen coats and a basket of some sort.

"Look, Seokjin!" He exclaims upon approach, obviously pleased with what he was somehow able to win for them. Seokjin is of course interested in how he's managed to obtain such goods from seeming strangers, but that's not his priority at the moment, he decides as Namjoon comes closer.

"That's great, Namjoonie," he replies, but it's clear his attention isn't on the objects in Namjoon's arms as he reaches out to take each item and set them gently on the fallen tree trunk next to them. Namjoon seems confused by his lack of reaction to the loot, especially given his insistence earlier, but it doesn't last long when Seokjin moves rapidly forward and pulls Namjoon into an embrace.

"I got so worried," he explains as after only a hair of hesitation Namjoon's arms find their way around him. It feels natural, as if it's one of many embraces they've shared and not, quite dramatically, the first (as he decided their time on horseback didn't count).

He realizes as he buries his face into Namjoon's shoulder that this is in fact the closest they've ever been, literally. Each touch so far was poignant, etched into his memory for keeps but this, this is something else entirely, he thinks as Namjoon's hands start to rub gently up and down the small of his back. Before he can hold himself back, he begins to let his thoughts drop from his lips, unfiltered and emotive.

"I- I started thinking about all the things that could happen while we were separated, and how if something did happen I might not even know....especially after we..." He trails off, pushing his face further into the other's neckline and finding his senses overwhelmed with pure Namjoon.

"Just...don't ever leave when the last thing I've said to you is 'hurry up!'...okay?"

Namjoon seemed to take some sort of strange amusement from that, though it seemed he was touched by the sentiment.

"Ah, I didn't think you would worry so much...though if this is my punishment to pay for putting you through the duress you may be going about it wrong," he remarks, pulling his arms a slightest bit tighter around the prince.

Seokjin doesn't know how much time has passed, but Namjoon makes no effort to escape from his grasp so he decides that just for the time being, they can allow the luxury of slowing down. It's definitely easy to get lost in Namjoon, he discovers as fingers seek to map shoulder blades.

When some hazy amount of time later they do part, Namjoon is eager to share what he secured for them. It turned out the property was owned by a nice older couple, who were wary of a stranger in such a state but not unkind. After some conversation, including a few clever fabrications on Namjoon's part to explain their situation without any connection to the castle, they seemed to take a liking to him and want to help. That, and apparently Namjoon had given them a small piece of his valuable seeds collection, a plant with a long name that it seemed was known for drawing nutrients to help surrounding crops thrive. Seokjin found himself wondering where the fabrication ended and truth began, but he wasn't going to question it just now, for the crucial part the tale had now played in their survival.

Not only had they given them the coats, but also a basket of foods that would sustain them for at least the next two days. This was already farther than Seokjin could think at the moment, so he continued to feel fortunate for the bounty. The collection of fruits, vegetables, freshly baked bread and dried meats would perhaps have its work cut out, trying to placate the prince's sizable appetite but looking at the excitable expression on Namjoon's face as he offered him a piece of the still warm bread would quell his grievance enough for now.

Donning their new warm coats, food supply tucked away into saddlebag, they were on their way. Once removed enough from the farmlands, they began to look for any spot that would be ideal to set up a small camp for the night. Cover would be preferable, but was hard to find in most areas of the forest. Eventually they came across a hollowed out tree stump that was large enough to obscure them from most sides if on the ground in front of it. Both tired by this point, they immediately set to work gathering what was needed for a fire. Namjoon worked with the clear efficiency of someone experienced in nature, which wasn’t surprising but still piqued curiosity’s eye. For Seokjin it had been some years since he's needed to use any skills one gains in the greater outdoors, though he wasn't even sure if his old memories of leisure camping with family would qualify as real experience.

Still, he was determined to do his part, following Namjoon's lead at first but later, not so much as he stubbornly swatted at the kindling until it would take flame. Eventually, both were settled in front of a healthy fire, sitting back against the log. Seokjin couldn't help but to let himself glance over, to take in the reflection of dancing flames in Namjoon's deep eyes.

"So," he begins, voice breaking into the silence of the dusk air around them.

"Do you want to tell me where we're going, specifically? You seemed to have a place in mind..?"

Namjoon nods, as if he was expecting this question, though he still takes a few moments to contemplate his answer. Seokjin waits patiently for him to gather his thoughts.

"It's...somewhere that will be safe, for you, for us, from-" He cut off, and Seokjin could tell he was hesitant to put words to their situation, to lay blame on any particular parties who might benefit from Seokjin's untimely demise or be interested in using him as a means to a throne.

"From our friendly castle guests?" He decides to chime in.

Namjoon grimaces, nods again.

"Yes. Them. I have someone, an old friend - family, more like, from before I came to the castle. He lives very removed from our castle and the kingdom at large. It took me...several days, on foot, in the past, so I imagine we can get there in possibly three or four days time with our companion here, depending on how often we stop..."

He trails off, and when Seokjin turns to face him he has a hand at the back of his neck like he's still hesitant about something.

"What is it, Namjoon?"

"You trust me, right?" Namjoon asks suddenly, and Seokjin may be caught off guard by the question but that doesn't change his answer.

"Yes. Of course."

"There are some things that...I haven't told you, about myself. I promise there are good reasons for that. But you may start to have some questions, when we arrive at our destination or soon after. I just...wanted you to know. Right now the priority is to find you safety, but when we can slow down I will explain everything."

It was a lot to dissect when he could feel tree bark pressing into his behind, so he made the decision not to excessively worry about it right now. He did trust Namjoon. Whatever secret history he may have kept from him, he feels confident they won't change how he sees the gardener or their relationship. His curiosity, however, was not so well behaved as his concern, so he found himself rather looking forward to arriving at this mystery friend's place - and not just so maybe they will get to sleep under a roof again.

The conversation slowly dwindles along with the fire, so their priority shifts towards attempting sleep. They decide to take shifts staying awake on watch, both too nervous about some roaming party stumbling upon them in the night. Seokjin remembers that he's brought his father's old pocket watch, and rummages through his bag for it. He already feels strangely disconnected from the realm, here in the quiet hum of the forest. If nothing else, it will be nice to have some sense of time, he thinks. Namjoon volunteers for the first watch, and so Seokjin curls up on the ground to reach a hopeful hand towards slumber.

As he lays there on the ground though, wrapped up in the now prized coat with his thin jacket robe from before bundled up into a makeshift pillow, sleep evades him. Though it was perhaps unsurprising that there would be a lot on his mind - and also that he not exactly find easy comfort in a hard ground after so long in luxury, he'd thought their long journey and high emotions would lead him to unconsciousness sooner or later. He wills himself not to think of his bed at the castle, the pillows and warmth of the hearth. He thinks of dried lavender, it's gentle scent from the gardens that he liked to have in his room to remind him of Namjoon. Now he actually had the the real thing in the flesh. For some seconds, he fights a sudden need to open his eyes again, as if Namjoon will have disappeared like an apparition.

As a result of this line of thought, he becomes overly conscious of Namjoon's body next to him. At any given moment he couldn't help but to wonder if the other man's mind or his heart were racing as fast as his, purely from the rush of everything between them.

"Namjoon," he whispers into the darkness of the night then.

"Seokjin?" Namjoon replies almost instantly, slight startle in his voice but not in any kind of resistant way.

"Sorry, I can't sleep...do you want me to take watch first instead?"

"No, no it's okay. I probably wouldn't be able to fall asleep either honestly."

The admission does make him feel a bit better, and he slowly opens his eyes, shifts so he's laying on his back. When he catches sight of Namjoon in the faint moonlight he has to shift his gaze back to the treetops as it strikes him as so intimate. He's always found the other man beautiful, but in the heart of the night it was always that much harder to swallow down his feelings.

Namjoon adjusts himself so he's on his back lying next to him. They let quiet sit between them for a time. Seokjin eventually finds he can't hold back the words on the tip of his tongue any longer.

"We made the correct decision, right? To leave?"

"Yes, I think so. Because you're here and safe and that's what matters."

The conviction in Namjoon's reply makes his breath catch for a moment. He states it as the obvious - that Seokjin's life is worth all of this, no matter the consequences, quite possibly dire for them both. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet.

"You didn't have to, you know. To- to leave with me..."

Namjoon turns on his side now, towards him, face scrunched up in worry and perhaps a bit of hurt that has Seokjin immediately shaking his head. Namjoon presses on.

"Did you not want me to? If you were alone, you wouldn't have to carry all my extra weight, on the horse...could probably cover ground faster..." His face hardens.

"No, but how would you have gotten...anyone in this area would likely recognize you...and how would you possibly get any rest? I don't like the idea of you out here alone...maybe if there were someone else- if any of your guardsmen could be trusted, perhaps they could better protect-"

He's stunned out of his rambling when Seokjin reaches over and places a hand at the side of his face, touch tentative but present. It's a bit awkward, the angle and maneuvering in the heavy coat but he doesn't mind, not with the way Namjoon is looking at him now.

"Namjoon. I already told you I agreed, there's no one I'd rather be here with, now."

The skin is soft under his fingers, so it feels nice to rub his thumb gently along cheekbone.

"I just...you left everything, to help me. Wish you didn't have to do that. I know you'll protest now but you cared so much for those gardens, seemed happy with your life, no? What if...what if it's all gone, now? No going back?"

Slowly, Namjoon lifts his own arm to rest his hand atop Seokjin's.

"I can grow and tend to plants anywhere. I can only enjoy the company of my favorite prince right here."

Seokjin feels heat seeping into his skin and hopes the darkness will mask the red. He hopes his heart can handle the amount of beats it's just skipped.

"Favorite, hm? I never knew I had competition. Do you keep company with many other royals, Namjoonie?"

With the grin that grows on Namjoon's face, Seokjin can feel the tension draining from him. Fingers lacing into his, finally Seokjin's eyelids begin to feel heavy.

"No competition."

He hears Namjoon's quiet reply, warm smile settling into his features as eyes drift shut.

Namjoon wakes him he assumes the agreed upon three hours later, gently nudging him awake. He immediately realizes their hands are still entwined, though Namjoon has adjusted himself to be sitting up again next to Seokjin with his arm resting between them. He surprises himself when his most immediate thought is the temptation to bring that hand to his lips, kiss each of the calluses he can feel. The sentiment takes him so powerfully that he pulls his hand away in mild panic. Regret takes over when he sees the small frown etch into Namjoon's face for the most fleeting moment before the other turns away.

He decides it's his burden to bear as the moment has passed, pushing himself up and attempting to blink the grogginess out of his eyes.

"How long did I sleep?" He asks and Namjoon shrugs.

"Umm, I think not that much over the three hours..." He's looking at the pocket watch in his hands now as though it will back him up. Seokjin doesn't need to see his face to know he's holding something back, and he has a suspicion when he realizes he definitely doesn't feel as exhausted as he should.

"Namjoon," he persists, leaning towards him and the watch.

"Is it really-- Namjoonie you let me sleep four and a half hours?"

"You looked so b- peaceful! I don't know, sorry, it just happened. Can't change it now, anyway I'm still not sure I'll be able to sleep at all..."

"You have to get some rest, though. I won't have you falling asleep while we're riding and falling off."

"Okay, okay. Yes, I know, you're quite adamant I will not fall off the horse. I'll try. All was quiet, by the way. I didn't hear or see anything while you slept. Though-" He shakes his head as if to brush off whatever he was going to say.

"Never mind, I'll tell you later." He stifles a yawn, shifts to lay down again. When he shuts his eyes, Seokjin takes the opportunity to drift his gaze over the face again. So familiar, and yet - a collection of moles, he can faintly make out in the dim light of the night, dusting over chin and neck. The shallow indentation that he knows comes to form Namjoon's signature dimple when he smiles. Things he could never have the opportunity to properly appreciate when looking at the gardener from his vantage point on that balcony. Strange, to think he may never return to that spot he'd taken such comfort in.

Just as he's wondering if Namjoon has fallen asleep, the deep voice jolts him from his thoughts.

"Seokjin, can...can I ask you to do something for me? If you don't mind..."

Namjoon's eyes are still closed. Seokjin stops himself just short of answering something irreversibly sentimental like 'anything.'

"What is it?" He asks instead.

"When I can't sleep, sometimes, if someone runs a hand in my hair it will help. I'm reluctant to ask but, I really can't fall asleep so-"

"Sure," Seokjin replies before Namjoon overworks himself explaining, already sliding himself closer so he can reach Namjoon's head more easily. Usually he would be hesitant, would stop to consider how his action might affect his already entangled heart, but the priority here was for Namjoon to fall asleep. If this would work, he'll handle the bruising later.

Without wasting another moment, he slides a hand into Namjoon's hair. Namjoon lets out a small gasp, seemingly surprised that he complied so quickly, but it turns into a sigh when Seokjin's fingers gently slide over his scalp. His hair is unkempt, a bit dry from the cool air but Seokjin doesn't mind as he starts raking through the locks the best he can.

"Thank you, Seokjinnie," he hears Namjoon mumble under his breath, visibly relaxing into the touch.

“Sweet Seokjinnie,” he adds, words barely audible above the hum of the night. Something tightens and sparkles in Seokjin's chest at the words of endearment. Even fully aware that it's tumbled out when he's clearly on the verge of sleep and not entirely aware of his speech. He continues gently running his hand through Namjoon's hair far beyond when he hears the man's breathing even out into a quiet snore. In the process, Seokjin can't help but to vaguely wonder how longer hair like his would suit. Though he smiles thinking about how Namjoon had told him once he prefers it shorter as one less hindrance to his work - that a strand of hair tangled in rose thorns once was enough.

The time passes peacefully, but for the relentless pattering of his heart with each tender stroke. So much so that he finds himself almost drifting into sleep again himself more than once. He decides to take in his surroundings more carefully, eyes landing on a leather-bound journal that peaks out from Namjoon's saddlebag. He expects it must be the one that Namjoon has told him about writing in regularly. His entire being itches with curiosity, and he commits a note to his memory that maybe if he gets a chance, he'll ask if he can see even just one of those entries.

When he realizes that Namjoon has fallen asleep, he continues efforts in his hair for several minutes still, finding that perhaps it soothes him just as much. Eventually he realizes he should really ween himself off the physical contact, both calming and exciting all at once. Before he does, he can't help but to ghost his fingers over the smooth planes of Namjoon's face. He pauses only at his lips, slightly parted. Studying each dip and curve of the mouth, he lifts his hand again to to his own lips instead. He imagines just for a moment, what it would be for their lips to meet, before embarrassment sets in and he pulls away. He sighs.

Seokjin decides now is a good time to sift through his own bag. He wants to take a mental inventory of the remaining contents. Contrary to what it may seem, this particular bag he’s had halfway packed for some time now. Until now, he’s never had the courage nor the reason to go through with leaving, though his heart had tended the notion many times. Along with the items he’d had previously packed for a mystery, quite possibly one-way journey, there were a few others he’d managed to grab that morning. In the bag, he finds: the comb that belonged to his mother, his favorite book (several certain flowers, pressed between the pages) as well as the one he and Namjoon had intended for their next to discuss. Perhaps most precious was the small bundle of letters he'd kept - from his uncle, from his closest friend and a few that were his mother's. He kept these rolled up for now, not looking to both literally and figuratively unravel those feelings at the moment. Sentimental trappings aside, he'd managed to bring other assorted items from from fishing wire to an old water canteen (though empty for the time being, he made a mental note to look out for a fresh water source).

It's strange to think that all he left behind in his rooms at the castle may be lost to him, but he realizes in this moment how little much of it meant to him anyway. All of the lavish gifts and decor, even the full wardrobe of custom fashions befitting a young prince - they were empty pursuits, when all that he's really needed is here, in the comforting companionship of the man sleeping next to him.

He stands and walks over to where Epiphany is grazing nearby. Grateful as he was to be with Namjoon, and admittedly a bit excited now that the initial rush of pursuit had faded, he also knew he should value this reprieve from his hammering heart. He was used to being alone. So much of his time was spent in solitude, before, that it took adjusting to be in someone's company all hours of the day - especially when that someone was the handsome gardener he's spent so many hours admiring among the flowers.

"Can you believe we're here, girl?" He asks the horse, voice a quiet whisper, running his hand gently over the long mane.

"We really made it out...left everything. Everyone." He takes a moment to just acknowledge this momentous fact, let it sink in. Despite what others may say, his thoughts went to his uncle. He hoped he was okay. If whoever these people were wanted the throne, it only made sense they would go after the king as well eventually. Seokjin knew he was the easier target, even with his uncles overzealous efforts to keep him obscured from dangers, but he couldn’t help his worry. He thinks of his friend, in the capital. He hopes he won’t be too alarmed, should word get out of the attack on the castle and his disappearance. He wonders if he’ll be able to send communications, once they reach their intended destination.

It's scary to be in such untreaded waters like this, rapid as the waves can be. But he glances back at his travel companion, fast asleep, mouth slightly open in a way that should be unflattering but only strikes him as endearing. The wave he feels right now is one of comfort washing over him. He knows that Namjoon won't let him drown.