Chapter Text
Finally, at long last, Grimhilde’s potion was ready.
The Queen had never been more giddy. She announced to her court that she was going on an outing early the next morning, and that she would be back by sundown. Early in the morning, she walked with a spring in her step as she donned her cloak, placing the enchanted apple into one pocket and the vial of the potion into the other. She left the castle eagerly.
Dawn had not yet broken when the Queen began her trek into the woods. A normal person may have been scared of traveling through the forest while it was still enveloped in darkness, but the Queen worried not. She was far too proud.
She followed the river, just as the Mirror said. Two hours into her journey, the sun began to rise, although it went unnoticed at first; there was a blanket of clouds covering the sky, through which the sun barely shone.
Finally, after what felt like a walk that would never end (but in reality was likely only an hour at best after sunrise; the sun had hardly risen), the Queen reached a clearing in the trees. In the dead center of the clearing lay a rather quaint-looking cottage. The home of the miners, she thought, grinning wickedly. Now was her time to act. The Queen removed the vial of potion and the apple from her pockets, setting the apple down on the ground in front of her so as to keep it from being affected by the potion’s magic. Then she took the stopper out of the vial and drank. The liquid inside was atrocious, as if she were drinking pure vinegar. She choked it down and watched triumphantly as her form began to disappear. The spell wouldn’t last long, so she had no time to lose. She picked up the apple and approached the cottage. As quietly as possible, she crept inside and placed the apple in a bowl in the kitchen which, conveniently enough for Grimhilde, held more apples, most of them green and yellow. The few red apples in the bowl paled in comparison to the Queen’s enticing enchantment. Smiling to herself, the Queen exited the cottage and found a comfortable place to wait, a position from which she could see through the window into the cottage.
She would sit. She would wait. And at long last, Queen Grimhilde would watch her stepson die.
~~~~~~~~~~
Minho was buzzing.
Yesterday had been so perfect. He started out worried—what if Jisung's family didn't like him? But it quickly became clear that they all wanted him around as much as he wanted to be there. He even appreciated Jeongin’s antics; Minho appreciated any opportunity he could get to see Jisung blushing and flustered.
And then. . . He'd kissed him. He wasn't planning on doing it; it just happened. The look on Jisung's face afterwards alone was enough to make Minho's heart soar. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to pull Jisung to him and kiss him breathless.
Unfortunately for Minho, he really wasn't kidding when he told everyone he had to leave. His parents were less than thrilled to have their son arriving home at so late an hour. However, when he told them that he was back so late because of a boy, they eased up on him. They didn't want their son running the kingdom without someone by his side when the time came.
Which was why they were not opposed to Minho leaving so early the next morning. He even took his horse to speed up the journey—something he hadn't done since the first time he found Jisung in the woods out of fear of getting caught. He could travel much more quietly on foot, so whenever he had to leave, he was able to make a silent, albeit significantly more slow, getaway. Now that he didn't have to worry about sneaking around, he'd be able to cut his travel time in half.
The sun was rising steadily as he made his journey. By the time he reached the clearing, the sun had been in the sky for two hours. He slid off of his horse and tied her reigns to a tree at the edge of the clearing. He fed her a carrot from the pouch of her saddle before approaching the cottage. He looked through the window to see Woojin standing in the kitchen, facing away from him. Minho walked inside.
“Hi, Woojin.”
“Jesus Christ,” Woojin yelped, whipping around to face Minho. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Sorry,” Minho said apologetically.
“What are you doing here so early?”
Minho shrugged. “I. . . I guess I couldn't stay away.”
“Minho?”
Minho whipped around to find Jisung standing in the doorway. He looked soft around the edges, like he'd just woken up. His hair was sticking up in odd places and his eyes were half-closed, but Minho thought he'd never looked more precious. Minho smiled. “Good morning, love,” he said warmly.
“Morning. . . What are you doing here so early?”
“He came to see you,” Woojin interjected before Minho could make his reply, “obviously.”
Jisung’s face lit up. Suddenly, Jeongin came barreling out of his bedroom. “Good morning, everyone,” he said in a lively tone. He wrapped an arm around Jisung’s shoulder. “I see you have company,” he said.
Jisung smiled and gently pulled himself out of Jeongin’s grip. “Yeah,” he said, “I guess I do.”
Minho walked over to the table, on which sat a bowl of apples. He took one from the bowl for himself, and another for Jisung. He turned and asked, “Which one would you like?”
Jisung eyed the two apples Minho held in his hands: one green, one bright red. He had to admit, the red one looked delicious, but. . . “The green one, please,” he said. “The green ones have always been my favorite.”
Minho smiled and tossed him the green apple. “Good answer,” he said jokingly. “I kind of wanted the red one anyway.”
He approached Jisung and intertwined their arms. Jisung smiled. “Walk outside with me?” Minho asked. Jisung nodded, and the two of them walked towards the door, Jisung stopping momentarily to take his bow and quiver of arrows from their place beside the door (he’d taken to keeping them there instead of in his room; he’d had a few too many instances where he or someone else—read, Felix, Seungmin, or Jeongin—nearly broke either the arrows or the bow itself). Woojin had to wrap his arms around Jeongin to keep the boy from following them outside.
“It looks like it might rain today,” Jisung commented. He pulled his arm out of Minho’s grasp to take a bite of his apple.
Minho nodded and sunk his teeth into the blood red apple. It was by far the most delicious apple he’d ever eaten. Sweet, crisp, perfect—forget about any other apple. The one he held in his hand was the best there was.
“Minho, are you alright?” Jisung asked worriedly. “You’re really pale.”
“I feel fine,” Minho replied, but as soon as he spoke, everything changed. His stomach churned. His head spun. He drew a breath, and he wheezed as he exhaled. He coughed into his elbow, attempted to take a step towards the willow tree, and immediately began to fall.
“Minho!” Jisung surged forward to catch him. “What—what’s wrong?”
Minho slumped against him, his energy drained. “I don’t know,” he said weakly. “I—” His face changed suddenly, contorting in pain. His forehead broke out in sweat and Jisung felt him begin to tremble violently. His knees buckled; Jisung sank to the floor with him and held him close. “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. His heart was hammering. Minho’s eyes fluttered closed, and Jisung let out a cry of despair. Small drops of rain began to fall around them.
“What’s going on?” Chan. Jisung hadn’t even noticed when Woojin fled the kitchen to find help.
“I, I don’t know, Minho came and then he ate an apple and then he collapsed—”
“Jisung, Jisung, calm down,” Chan said. “It’ll be okay. We’ll—we’ll figure something out. We’ll fix him.”
By that point everyone else had filed outside, concern blanketing their faces. “What happened?” Hyunjin asked.
“I don’t know,” Jisung sobbed. “It just happened, I—”
Behind them, they heard an angry cry. They all turned, and Jisung’s jaw dropped. Before them was Queen Grimhilde, materializing out of thin air with an expression of pure unbridled rage painted across her face.
“You,” she said, pinning Jisung under a sinister glare, “you were supposed to be the receiver of that poison!”
“Poison?” Jisung said, his voice trembling a little. “What poison?”
“The apple, you twit! You were supposed to eat the apple!” The queen looked frustrated, but then her expression began to change, as if she were just realizing something. “However,” the queen said with a smirk, “I will take pleasure in watching you suffer. Because of you, Han Jisung, that boy will die.”
Jisung’s hands shook. He felt tears pooling in his eyes. Minho can’t die, he thought. I won’t let him.
“What will you do, boy?” the queen sneered as if she were reading his mind. “You can’t save him. He will die,” she said, “and it will be all your fault.”
“No!” Jisung screamed. Quick as lightning, he took an arrow from its quiver and fired it at the queen. It grazed her arm, and she cried out in pain. “Insolent boy,” she snarled. “His blood is on your hands, and you dare try to harm me? The one who raised you? The one who gave you a home? I was gracious to you. You are a fool, just like your parents.”
Jisung screamed in rage and shot another arrow at the queen. This time, his luck was better; the arrow lodged itself in the queen’s right forearm. She howled in pain, and for the first time, there was real fear in her eyes. She turned and ran into the woods.
“Go!” Chan shouted at Jisung. “Go after her. Do whatever you have to do. We’ll take care of Minho.”
“Thank you,” Jisung said. “Thank you!”
Jisung chased after the queen, occasionally firing arrows at her. The accuracy of his aim was significantly lower than it was when he was standing still, but he was too enraged to care. Grimhilde had hurt someone he loved. There was no way Jisung was letting her get away with this.
He chased her for what felt like an eternity. He leapt over everything in his path, always keeping Grimhilde in his sight. He had far better stamina than the queen; keeping up with her was no difficult task. He had only one thought in his mind: She will pay. Soon he found that he had chased the queen all the way to the top of a cliff. The rain was coming down in sheets. The queen’s cloak clung to her, and Jisung’s hair stuck to his forehead.
“You have nowhere to run,” Jisung said, aiming an arrow directly at the queen. “Don’t make me shoot. Please. I don’t want any of this.”
The queen sneered. “You are weak,” she said. “You have power on your side, and what do you do? You try to throw it all away. You, boy, are nothing. Just like your father. Just like your mother!”
“NEVER talk about my mother that way!” Jisung screamed. He took a few steps forward, causing the queen to back away from him. She now stood on the edge of the cliff. “She was a good mother,” Jisung yelled. “She was a good queen! She was better than you in every way!”
“This is where you are wrong,” the queen said with a smile. “You see, there is one thing I have that the former queen does not. And that, boy, is life.”
Jisung let out a furious cry and squeezed his eyes shut as he let the arrow loose. He heard it connect with something with a thud, and then he heard a strangled gasp. He opened his eyes and saw that his arrow had hit the queen directly in her chest, piercing her evil heart. There was a shocked expression on the queen’s face. “Y-you—” she choked out. Blood flew from her lips as she spoke. Jisung shot another arrow, this time hitting her shoulder. The queen screamed as she fell backwards off the cliff and into the river below. The rain stopped.
Jisung let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He was calm for a moment, but then he remembered.
Minho.
Jisung ran as fast as humanly possible back to the cottage, where everyone was gathered around Minho. They’d moved beneath the willow tree in order to have some semblance of protection from the rain. It looked as if he were merely sleeping.
The seven of them looked at him with forlorn expressions as he ran to Minho’s side. “How is he?” Jisung asked frantically.
“It—it’s not good,” Changbin spoke up. “We did everything we could, Jisung, but there wasn’t much we could do. We—we couldn’t find his heartbeat.”
“No,” Jisung cried. He knelt down beside Minho and pulled him into his arms. “No, no, he can’t be dead. Minho, you can’t be dead.” Tears rolled down Jisung’s face, mingling with the raindrops already on his skin. He cupped Minho’s face in his hands and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
As soon as he did so, Minho’s body began to shake. “What the fuck?” Jisung heard someone—Hyunjin, maybe?—whisper. Jisung’s heart hammered. For a full five seconds, Minho shook. His eyes sprung open, and he gasped. Minho, seemingly back from the dead, sat up and stared at Jisung in bewilderment.
Jisung shrieked and wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck, hugging him tightly.
“Can’t breathe,” Minho wheezed. Jisung quickly drew back to find Minho smiling at him. “Hi,” he said quietly.
“YOU WERE DEAD,” Jisung shouted. “It was—oh my God, it was almost my turn to attend your funeral!”
Minho had the audacity to laugh. “Well,” he said, “I didn’t die.”
Jisung laughed and wrapped his arms around Minho, pulling him into a tight embrace. “I’m glad you’re not,” he whispered against his hair.
Minho looked Jisung intently in the eyes. The sun broke through the clouds as Minho brought Jisung close to him and kissed him deeply. The miners cheered. “Finally,” Jeongin shrieked, cackling like a madman. Minho pulled away to laugh, and Jisung smiled. He had never been more happy in his entire life.
“I love you, Han Jisung,” Minho said quietly, eliciting more cheers from Jisung’s family. Jisung smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Minho’s lips.
“I love you.”
One Year Later
Immediately following the death of Queen Grimhilde, Minho took Jisung back to his own kingdom. He knew his parents would be able to help Jisung get control of his own kingdom once again. Thankfully, the majority of Grimhilde’s trade partners were suspicious that the queen may have had malicious intentions, so Jisung was swiftly able to reclaim his place as the ruler of his kingdom, and the ceremony making him the king took place on the day of his twenty-first birthday. Minho was by his side the entire time, along with the miners, who Jisung invited to live in the castle with him. All seven of them were elated.
Minho and Jisung got married six months later. The wedding was grand and extravagant; the kingdom saw it as the best turn of events they could possibly have had: they went from one vicious ruler to two kind ones. Minho’s parents were there, beaming at their son the entire time. Jisung’s family sat in the front row; they were barely able to contain their excitement (especially Jeongin—he’d been waiting for this day since Seungmin first told him about Jisung’s meeting Minho and now that the day was finally here, he could barely contain himself). When they kissed at the end of the ceremony, it was like the first time all over again. He was so happy. From that day forward, he, Minho, and his family would get to be with each other for the rest of their lives.