A Family To Cling To

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/30864938.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin
Character: Min Yoongi | Suga, Park Jimin (BTS), Kim Namjoon | RM, Kim Seokjin |
Jin, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Kim Taehyung | V, Jeon Jungkook
Additional Tags: Fluff, Angst, apprentice au, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Witch Park
Jimin (BTS), Witch Min Yoongi | Suga, All of bangtan are witches,
Strangers to Lovers, Fantasy Age Gap, Domestic Min Yoongi |
Suga/Park Jimin, There Was Only One Bed
Language: English
Collections: Hexed! Fest
Stats: Published: 2021-04-23 Words: 34,289 Chapters: 1/1

A Family To Cling To
by INeverHadMyInternetPhase (BirbWatcher)

Summary

Jimin is cold, lonely, and fed up. He needs to find an elder witch to apprentice himself to,
and soon.

Enter Min Yoongi, one of the oldest witches around, who has never taken on an apprentice.

Notes

I had so much fun with this prompt! This grew a lot longer than I expected it to, but I
enjoyed every minute of writing it, so I hope you enjoy it too!

Title from 'On The Train Ride Home' by The Paper Kites

Prompt:

Yoongi’s been around for…well lets just say that “long” doesn’t even begin to cover it. His
form of magic has always been rather unique, but these days it’s practically unheard of. He
might be the only witch left in the entire hemisphere that practices it.
Jimin is young. Very young. Recently of age, he’s been kicked out of his coven to go
explore the world and find an older witch to apprentice under. Sounds easy right? Wrong.
 It’s been five years, and Jimin is just about ready to give up. He’s tired, he’s hungry, and
he’s pretty sure he’s lost. So imagine his surprise when right when he’s about to give up, a
cottage appears. And inside it- a witch who might be just what Jimin was searching for.

Yoonmin au! Yoongi really really does not want an apprentice. But Jimin is not someone
who takes no for an answer.
Must include all 7 boys and have a happy ending!
smut is fine but not required. side ships also fine

Jimin was miserable and it was starting to rain.

He shivered on his broomstick, leaning down close to the wooden handle as he soared through the
sky, buffeted by the stormy winds. The hood of his cloak had blown down half an hour ago, but he
hadn’t dared take his hands off the broomstick to push it back up, too scared he would lose control
and go plummeting down to the thick forest beneath him.

He wasn’t entirely sure he was going the right way. Namjoon hadn’t exactly given him the clearest
of instructions - go north and keep going, you’ll find what you’re looking for - and dusk would fall
soon. Jimin desperately hoped he’d be able to find shelter before then. He didn’t want to face
another night spent out in the elements.

His search for an apprenticeship was taking far, far too long.

Most witches found their elder within the first year or two since coming of age. Turning 18 was a
huge moment in their life; it was when young witches would head out from their birth covens and
find themselves an elder witch to train them in their speciality. All sorts of magic existed in various
forms, and witches could specialise in any branch they wanted, provided they had an affinity for it.
Usually, witches were happily matched with their elders by the time they turned twenty.

Not Jimin.

Jimin had been travelling for five years, desperately trying elder after elder in as many types of
magic as he could find, all to no avail. He’d tried weather magic and fire magic; telekinetic magic
and reading minds; creative magic and destructive magic; and he’d failed at all of them. His magic
was so unstable that all of the elders he’d spoken to ended up chasing him away, and his reputation
had spread so much that new elders would see him coming and barricade their doors.

Jimin was cold and wet and tired and hungry, and he just wanted to be an apprentice already.

The last elder he’d tried, Kim Namjoon, had given him some hope. Jimin really, really thought he
might be the one - there were only a few branches of magic that Jimin hadn’t already tried, after all.
There were some rare types of air magic he hadn’t fully explored, and of course energy magic, but
there was only one known witch who still practiced energy magic and he was supposed to be
terrifying, so Jimin was steering well clear.

Kim Namjoon was a shifter. He and his small coven - Kim Seokjin and Jung Hoseok - all shifted
into animals on a regular basis, and Jimin had been so excited when he read about them in the
library in the last big city he’d been to that he couldn’t resist making the long trek north to try and
see if he’d be a fit.
Namjoon had welcomed him with open arms, much to Jimin’s surprise, but maybe his reputation
hadn’t spread this far north yet. They’d attempted a bonding last night, but Jimin’s magic sparked
out of control, as usual, and he’d ended up blowing the roof off their greenhouse. Seokjin and
Hoseok were still picking up the pieces.

Jimin had been so disheartened that he broke down in tears, but Namjoon comforted him and told
him he knew of a witch elder who might be exactly what Jimin was looking for. So here Jimin
was, flying north in a part of the country he hardly knew at all, looking for an elder who may or
may not exist.

The clouds spit at him, and Jimin grimaced, directing his broomstick to fly a little lower. He
brushed the top of the forest canopy, and Jimin peered down between the branches, trying to make
out the distant ground through the large, encroaching leaves. He really wasn’t sure where Namjoon
was sending him; the further Jimin flew, the more civilization disappeared behind him.

This forest was old. Jimin could feel the ancient language of the trees rippling through the air,
magic far stronger than anything he’d felt before laying thick in the atmosphere. He could almost
taste it on his tongue. Something magical definitely lived here; Jimin just hoped he could find them
before nightfall.

As he flew, a sudden burst of magic bubbled up from inside him, and Jimin yelped, jolting as he
desperately tried to keep control. Sparks burst from his fingers, yellow and electric, and he
shuddered, letting go of the broomstick and waving his hands to try and put them out.

The broomstick instantly went into a nosedive.

“No - shit, wait, no!” Jimin cried, desperately grabbing the handle again, only for more sparks to
burst from his fingers. His magic was so unstable, even worse after five years without a coven to
help him control it, that there was nothing Jimin could do as the broomstick tumbled from the sky,
breaking through the canopy and crashing through the branches until he dropped straight down to
the mossy ground.

Jimin landed with a harsh thump. He barely managed to shout the spell for a safety net before he
met the earth, his side flaring with pain where he landed. The world spun around him from his
dizzying fall, and he lay there for a few seconds, trying desperately to catch his breath.

Drizzle plopped onto his face, damp seeping into his robes from the forest floor.

Jimin groaned.

He rolled over slowly, testing his joints and wincing at the pain. He murmured a healing spell,
running his hands over the worst spots, but he daren’t try and fix everything - his magic could
explode again at any moment, and he didn’t want to risk permanent injury.

He needed to find an elder, now. Or at least a coven who could take him in until he was healed and
able to continue on his journey.

Sitting up slowly, Jimin glanced around the forest, his heart sinking when nothing but trees and
greenery met his eyes. This forest didn’t even look habitable. The fauna was thick, leaves and
bracken covering everywhere he looked with no hint of a path in sight. The earthy scent of moss
and damp filled his nose, and his hands were sodden where he dug his fingers into the earth to sit
upright.

The few sunbeams that made it all the way down here were weakening. Night would fall soon.
Jimin was in trouble.

“Looks like you’re in a bit of a predicament.”

The voice made Jimin startle hard. He jumped to his feet, grabbing his broomstick and brandishing
it like a weapon as he spun around, ignoring the dull ache in his joints from the fall.

For a moment, everything was still, but then—

“Put that away, baby witch.” The low voice sounded amused. A shadow moved to Jimin’s right,
and he turned sharply to find - a cottage.

A cottage, set back in the thick undergrowth, with a neat little garden and a white fence closing it
off, that definitely hadn’t been there before.

Jimin blinked, hard.

A low chuckle, and Jimin finally saw him - the man leaning against the gate, eyes fixed on Jimin,
an amused quirk to his lips. He was dressed in all black, his robes brushing the floor, the cloak
hood down to reveal black hair and a delicate face, so smooth and youthful looking that for a
second Jimin doubted the gravelly voice had come from him.

But then he felt it - the magic weighing heavily in the air.

This man was a witch. And he was old.

Jimin raised the broomstick higher. “Who are you?”

The man smirked, folding his arms. “I should be asking you that, seeing as you just crashed into
my forest.”

Jimin frowned. “Your forest?”

The man didn’t answer him. Warm, dark eyes never left Jimin’s face.

Jimin swallowed, his brain slowly kicking into gear. He was alone, stranded in a forest in the rain
just before nightfall, and there was a witch in front of him who might be able to offer him shelter.

He lowered his broomstick, trying to find his most charming smile despite how wet and cold and
sore he felt. “I’m Park Jimin. I’m trying to find an apprenticeship - I really, really need shelter.
Could you—?”

“An apprenticeship?” The older witch raised a brow, giving Jimin a very obvious look up and
down. “Are you that much of a baby?”

Jimin bristled. He was annoyed at being talked down to like this, but part of him was relieved that
his rocky reputation hadn’t stretched this far. This witch hadn’t turned him away yet. “I’m twenty-
three.”

“Five years?” The elder witch hummed, still studying Jimin closely. “Must be something wrong
with you if it’s taken that long.”

Jimin resisted the urge to snap back a sharp retort and instead tried his most charming smile again.
“Will you please help me? I just need somewhere to shelter for the night.”

The witch tilted his head. “And where exactly are you headed?”
“I… don’t know,” Jimin answered honestly. “Namjoon-ssi just said if I keep going north—”

“Kim Namjoon?”

“...Yes?” Jimin frowned. “Do you know him?”

The elder witch didn’t answer. He just stood there, leaning casually against his gate, studying
Jimin until Jimin felt hot.

A long silence passed.

Eventually, the witch stirred. “I’ll heal you. But then you’d best be on your way. I don’t let
strangers into my cottage.”

Jimin’s heart sank. The thought of another night spent out alone in the dark brought tears to his
eyes - he was cold and hungry and tired and he just wanted to find somewhere warm. “Please - I
just need one night. Then I’ll move on. The witch Namjoon-ssi told me about must be here
somewhere.”

The witch merely looked at him, expression unreadable. “What did Kim Namjoon tell you,
exactly?”

“He just told me to go north,” Jimin said. “That I might finally find an elder strong enough to take
me on.”

The witch pursed his lips.

“I promise I’ll be out of your hair first thing,” Jimin rushed to say into the ensuing silence. “I just -
I’m so hungry, I’ve been travelling all day—”

The witch’s expression closed off again and he shook his head. “I said I’ll heal you, but then you’ll
have to go back to Namjoon-ssi. He’ll shelter you.”

Jimin despaired at the thought of going all the way back the way he’d come. He opened his mouth
to complain again, but the witch suddenly snapped his fingers and a rush of magic flooded through
Jimin, warming him like an electric shock.

Jimin yelped. He glanced down at his hands, saw the golden glow of a stranger’s magic running
through him, healing his aches and sprains from his long fall. The spell felt warm, almost…
familiar, in a strange way, and incredibly powerful. Jimin couldn’t place what kind of magic it was
- fire, maybe? It was warm, but not quite… it felt more primal than that, more like pure energy…

Energy magic.

Jimin’s jaw dropped. As quickly as he felt it, the magic disappeared, leaving him warm and
comfortable with no more pain, but Jimin couldn’t believe it. He was sure of what he’d felt, even
though it should be impossible.

There was only one person still alive who practiced energy magic. The discipline had all but fallen
out of the magical world completely - the only remaining energy witch was an elder, and an old
one at that. He’d never taken on an apprentice. The stories painted him as a gruesome, ghoul-like
creature that haunted the forest and chased away any strangers that dared to darken his door.

Jimin stared at the witch standing in front of him and could hardly believe it.
The witch was already turning away from him, heading back inside his little garden and bending
down to tend to his plants. He completely ignored Jimin as Jimin stepped closer, hovering by the
gate and staring in awe.

“You’re the energy witch.”

The witch didn’t acknowledge him; just ran a loving hand over a growing crop of flowers, a rush of
magic encouraging them to grow. Jimin was sure of it - that was energy magic.

He’d found the energy witch. One of the few elders who had strong enough magic that might just
be able to contain Jimin.

Excitement started to build in Jimin’s stomach. He understood now why Namjoon had sent him
this way - the energy witch lived alone in his own secret forest, so this must be who Namjoon had
intended him to find. Energy magic might be the only speciality left that could keep Jimin’s
unstable magic in check.

Jimin just had to convince this witch to take him on.

“What’s your name?” he asked, leaning against the gate but not quite daring to step onto another
witch’s property without permission.

The witch just grunted. “You still here?”

“You’re the energy witch,” Jimin said again, enthusiasm leaking into his tone.

The witch didn’t look at him.

“I’m sure Namjoon-ssi wanted me to find you,” Jimin said, deciding he would explain his story
even if he had to tell it to the energy witch’s back. “He said you would be able to help me.”

“Doubt it.”

“My magic is unstable,” Jimin continued, watching in wonder as the energy witch coaxed his little
garden to life. His magic was smooth and perfect; nothing like the wild energy of Jimin’s spells.

“You don’t say.” The energy witch’s lips twitched. “You came tumbling out of the sky like you’d
been hit by lightning.”

Jimin winced. “I’m still learning how to fly. I’m still learning how to do everything - my magic
won’t settle, no matter who I try and apprentice with.”

The witch just grunted. “And you’ve tried everybody, have you?”

“I’ve tried two hundred and seven elders.”

The witch stumbled, and Jimin felt a surge of pride at finally catching him off guard. He kept
watching as the elder righted himself, crouching down by the next set of plants and running his
hands over them again. Energy magic sparked through the air, and Jimin gravitated towards it
instinctively.

“Two hundred and seven in five years?” The elder witch hummed. “You must be some kind of
disaster.”

“Yah,” Jimin said indignantly.

The witch looked over at him, raising a brow.

“Uh - I mean, elder-nim,” Jimin rushed to amend, dipping his head in a respectful bow. “You can
see that I’m really desperate. Namjoon-ssi really thought you could help me—”

“Namjoonie is wrong,” the elder said flatly.

Jimin paused, noting the familiar honorific. “You know him?”

The witch didn’t answer, turning back to his plants.

“Please.” Jimin let out a frustrated sigh - he’d never sink to begging normally, but desperation was
beginning to sink in. “Just one night. Just to see if we might be a fit?”

“We won’t be.”

“You haven’t even tried—”

The witch stood again, turning the full force of his glare onto Jimin, and it was enough to make
Jimin cower in place. “I said no, baby witch. Go back to your search.”

Jimin’s heart sank. Before he could say another word in protest, the witch turned on his heel and
stepped back inside the cottage, slamming the door shut behind him.

Jimin whined. He dug his fingers into the white fence, the faint glow of the elder witch’s healing
spell still flowing through him, gentle and warm and enticing. Jimin could hardly believe such a
spell could have come from such an unpleasant person.

He sighed, glancing miserably at his broomstick, and then up at the sky. Dusk was falling all
around him, carpeting the forest in ambient grey light. A few birds called overhead, and the air was
cold against his skin, still drizzling.

He really didn’t want to fly all the way back to Namjoon. It would take all night, and he’d have to
admit he failed.

Jimin didn’t like failing.

He glanced at the door to the cottage, pursing his lips. He could be very persuasive when he
needed to be - perhaps if he tried just one more time…

In the end, the weather made his decision for him.

As Jimin contemplated the cottage, the heavens opened properly and the light drizzle turned into a
full-pelt storm. Thunder clapped and rain poured from the sky, dripping from the tree leaves in fat
droplets, soaking the damp mossy ground in seconds. Jimin shivered, drawing his cloak around
him and clutching his broomstick. His hood blew down no matter how many times he pushed it
back up.

There was no way he was flying back in this.

Gathering his courage, Jimin pushed open the gate and stepped inside the garden. He felt the
slightest brush against his skin as he crossed the threshold onto the witch’s property, magic
hanging in the air like cobwebs. Usually, Jimin was too polite to step onto another witch’s territory
without being invited, but needs must.

He knocked on the door, shivering in the rain. “Elder-nim? Please - just let me wait out the
storm?”

Silence.

Jimin huffed and pounded on the arched wooden door with the flat of his palm, making as much
noise as possible over the tearing storm raging around him. “Please, just one night.”

Still nothing.

“I’m going to catch hypothermia if you don’t let me in.”

Another long silence held, and Jimin was on the verge of tears. His cloak clung to him, freezing in
the wind, and he was soaked to the bone, the lintel over the witch’s doorstep hardly providing
much cover.

He knocked again. “Elder-nim, please—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the door flew open. Jimin startled, feeling the rush of a spell in
the air, but there was no sign of the elder witch.

Jimin didn’t care. He would take what he was given.

He clattered gladly through the door, entering the cottage and taking a second to adjust to his
surroundings. A warm smell greeted him, like freshly baked bread and clean, homely potion
making, though the lighting was dim.

The door blew shut behind him, cutting off the storm and leaving dull silence in its wake.

Jimin swallowed, glancing around slowly as his eyes adjusted. He was in a small entrance foyer
with a corridor opening out in front of him. Several pairs of shoes were piled by the front door,
along with a coat rack with a few cloaks hanging from it and a traditional pointy hat resting on the
cabinet. Magic surrounded him on all sides.

There was no sign of the elder, so Jimin tentatively slipped off his shoes and stepped into a pair of
slippers before edging out into the corridor. He kept his broomstick in his hand, glancing around
warily. The corridor was narrow and not very long, so Jimin opened the first door he came to and
hesitantly peeked his head inside.

He was met with a large, surprisingly open living area. Bright rugs covered the mossy floor, and
the walls seemed almost carved out of the trees themselves, shaped to the forest surrounding them.
Lanterns kept the room bright, and a fire crackled merrily in the fireplace set into one wall. A few
sofas were collected around a coffee table, and rows and rows of bookshelves lined the perimeter,
some books so old they were visibly yellow even from across the room.

Jimin instantly liked it.

“Don’t just stand there and gawk.”

Jimin jolted at the voice, spinning around with his broomstick raised.

The elder witch just snorted. He was seated in one of the armchairs, stretched out comfortably, a
book in his hand. He barely even spared Jimin a glance. “You can stay until the storm blows over
and that’s it. Then you go back to being Joon’s problem, not mine.”

Jimin would take what he could get. He set his broomstick down carefully and stepped closer, very
aware of his soaked clothes. “Thank you, elder-nim.”

The elder just grunted. “Min Yoongi. What did you say your name was?”

“Park Jimin.”

“Well, Park Jimin, go get changed before you drip all over my floor.”

Jimin startled, surprised, but the witch - Yoongi - just snapped his fingers again and a new set of
robes appeared, hovering in the air in front of Jimin’s nose.

Jimin blinked. “Uh. Thanks?”

“Bathroom’s down the hall.”

Jimin decided to ignore Yoongi’s curt tone, figuring he was fortunate to have found somewhere to
shelter and he probably shouldn’t push his luck. He took the robes and turned down the corridor,
opening a few doors until he found the bathroom. Everything was homely and tidy, but cluttered,
and none of the furniture matched.

Jimin was getting the distinct impression that Yoongi was rather eccentric.

He changed quickly, relieved that the new robes fit perfectly and were soft and thick to keep him
warm. Yoongi must be powerful to conjure something so accurate when he’d hardly even looked at
Jimin. He wondered how old Yoongi was - most witches stopped aging in their twenties, so it was
impossible to tell by his looks. Jimin knew from rumours that the energy witch was one of the
older elders around.

He hung his wet clothes over the radiator to dry and padded back down the hall, snuggling into the
warm robes. His feet were aching with cold and his hands and lips were chapped, and he was
struggling to stop shivering.

When he entered the living room again, he was surprised to see that Yoongi had pushed one of the
armchairs by the fire.

“Sit there,” Yoongi muttered, still buried in his book. “You need to thaw.”

Jimin sank gratefully into the cushions, holding his hands over the fire. Yoongi was in the armchair
almost directly opposite him, but he didn’t look up for even a second, so Jimin took the chance to
study him, to learn as much as he could about this acerbic witch who might be his only chance.

Yoongi really didn’t look very old at all. His skin was almost smoother than Jimin’s, and he was
dressed cosily, a blanket tossed over his knees. The book he was reading was in a language that
Jimin didn’t understand - something like old runes.

“Stop staring,” Yoongi grunted.

Jimin flushed, caught, but decided he really had very little to lose. “I’m just trying to find out more
about the energy witch.”

Yoongi gave a heavy sigh.

“Seriously,” Jimin continued, unwilling to give up. “You’re legendary. No wonder Namjoon-ssi
thought you might be able to help me.”

“You’re not my problem, kid.”

“I’m not a problem.” Jimin huffed.

Yoongi raised a brow, still not looking up from his book. “Two hundred and seven elders would
disagree with you.”

Jimin bit his lip, stuck. He knew his track record looked bad, but there was something about his
magic that just didn’t want to be contained. He hadn’t found his affinity yet, and he was running
out of options.

Which was why he wouldn’t just give up when an opportunity like this fell into his lap.

“Namjoon-ssi seems really smart,” Jimin argued. “I’m sure he knew what he was doing when he
sent me to you.”

Yoongi just grunted.

“He must have had a reason for thinking you might be right for me,” Jimin pressed.

“Joon likes to cause me trouble.”

“How do you know it won’t work if you haven’t even tried?”

Yoongi finally closed his book, looking over at Jimin with those sharp dark eyes. “Look, kid.
There’s a reason I’ve never taken an apprentice. I’m not the right elder for you, you’d do much
better to keep searching elsewhere.”

Jimin frowned. “How do you know if you won’t even try and bond with me?”

“I just do.”

“But Namjoon-ssi said—”

“Much as he likes to believe it, Joon doesn’t know everything,” Yoongi said wryly. “He’s wrong
about this.”

Jimin folded his arms, stubborn. “Well, he wanted me to try. I don’t want to go back to him
without at least attempting.”

“What went so wrong when you tried to bond with him?”

Jimin fidgeted. “Uh. It just… didn’t work out.”

Yoongi smirked, evidently entertained. “You can’t expect me to help you if you won’t even tell me
what happened in your previous attempts at bonding.”

Jimin swallowed. He gathered his courage. “It, uh - it wasn’t the worst, honestly. It won’t take
long for his coven to put the greenhouse back together.”

Yoongi’s brows shot up.

“It was just the roof,” Jimin hastened to add. “It could have been so much worse.”

Yoongi studied him, his sharp gaze lingering on his face, and Jimin felt the faintest stirring of
magic in the air. He tried to keep still, willing his own magic not to respond, difficult as it was.

“Do I want to ask what happened with the other elders?” Yoongi said eventually, but he almost
sounded… amused?

Jimin whined. “It’s not like I do it on purpose!”

“No wonder it’s taking you so long to find somebody.”

“I’m almost out of disciplines,” Jimin agreed. “Which is why I really need to try with you.”

Yoongi’s expression closed off instantly. He picked his book back up. “No.”

“But—”

“Don’t push your luck, kid. You’re lucky I didn’t leave you out in the storm.”

Jimin pursed his lips, but relented, at least for the moment. Yoongi was right, after all - he couldn’t
afford to get kicked back out while the storm was still raging.

The window in the back of the room was covered by blinds, but it was obviously almost full dark
outside. Thunder still echoed from the sky, rain beating against the roof, though it was cosy inside
the cottage itself. Jimin wasn’t willing to give up his shelter.

He’d have to think of another way to convince Yoongi to take him on.

Time passed in silence for a little while, Yoongi buried in his book, Jimin fiddling with his robes
and staring into the fire while he warmed up. He stopped shivering eventually, his hands and ears
aching with the change in temperature.

Eventually, Yoongi stirred again, setting aside his book and getting to his feet. “You need food?”

Jimin startled - he’d been almost nodding off in front of the fire. He blinked, glancing over to see
Yoongi heading to the door. “Yes please. I haven’t eaten since last night.”

Yoongi muttered something under his breath, disappearing down the corridor. Jimin contemplated
following him, but he was reluctant to leave the comforting warmth of the fire, and he didn’t want
to piss Yoongi off anymore than he already had.

Yoongi wasn’t gone for long, anyway, returning soon enough with two steaming bowls of soup. He
gave one to Jimin, and Jimin didn’t hide his obvious hunger, sipping it so fast he burned his
tongue.

“Hopeless,” Yoongi muttered, but there was amusement in his tone again. “Try a cooling spell if
it’s too hot.”

Jimin didn’t want to risk using his magic again so soon, so took that as his cue, wrapping his hands
around the warm bowl. “Can’t, it most likely won’t hold. I’m only bad at magic because no one has
taught me anything in five years.”

“Don’t try and guilt me into helping you. It won’t work.”

“But you must need an apprentice at some point?” Jimin tried a new angle, watching as Yoongi
sipped delicately at his own soup from his armchair. “Surely you could do with the help?”

“I manage just fine on my own.”

“But don’t you need a coven?”

“Nope.”

Jimin frowned. He’d never met a lone witch before - most witches needed the magical bond with
their coven to keep their spells in check. He’d been sorely missing the sense of belonging during
his hunt for an apprenticeship; he couldn’t imagine a lifetime alone.

“Why don’t you want an apprentice?” Jimin asked eventually, genuinely curious.

Yoongi let out a humourless laugh. “Too many reasons to get into, but basically, energy magic
isn’t for just anyone. My old elder was the only one of her generation before she retired, and there’s
a reason for that.”

“What reason?”

Yoongi gave him a flat look. “Stop fishing for information. I’m not taking you on.”

Jimin pursed his lips. “But how do you know? We might work!”

“I hope for your sake we don’t,” Yoongi muttered, almost too quiet for Jimin to hear.

Jimin caught it, though, and he wasn’t one to take no for an answer - at least not without a good
reason. “But if—”

“Stop.” Yoongi set his soup down, eyeing Jimin coldly. Jimin shrank back into his cushions - the
stare of an elder was hard to hold at the best of times, and Yoongi was powerful, Jimin could sense
it in the air. “Like I said, you can wait out the storm, but then you’re leaving.”

Jimin huffed out a sigh. “You’re stubborn.”

“I’m just realistic.”

Jimin went back to eating his soup, irritated. He was beyond frustrated - finally he’d found an elder
who might actually be the exact person he needed, and Yoongi wasn’t even giving him a chance.
Jimin’s persuasive techniques hadn’t failed him yet - although more than a few of his attempted
apprenticeships had ended dramatically badly, he’d never had an elder flat out refuse to try and
bond with him before.

Yoongi was quiet as he ate, too, and Jimin tried his best to ignore the growing awkwardness
between them. Yoongi was the one who decided to be rude, after all - he could deal with the
consequences.

After an indeterminable amount of time that Jimin spent finishing his soup and glaring angrily into
the flames, Yoongi stirred again.

“I’m going to bed. I’ll make up the couch for you, because this storm doesn’t look like it’s going
anywhere yet, but in the morning you leave.”

Jimin huffed, turning in his seat to protest, but Yoongi was already waving a hand at the sofa so it
magically rearranged itself into the shape of a bed. Blankets and pillows appeared, and Yoongi
waved it closer to the fire, his magic smooth and comforting. Jimin could sense the deceptive
power behind his casual gestures and shivered.

Yoongi stepped back when he was done, gesturing for Jimin to try it out.

“I want you to know that you’re being ridiculously stubborn,” Jimin announced. “And not taking
me on is entirely your loss.”

Yoongi snorted, his dark eyes fixed on Jimin. “Noted. Now get in the damn bed.”

Jimin pursed his lips, but got to his feet, passing Yoongi his empty bowl. He perched on the edge
of the sofa-turned-bed and begrudgingly admitted that it was comfortable, and he was warm as he
snuggled under a blanket.

“I’ll be in my room,” Yoongi said, watching him from across the room. “Don’t make too much
noise in the night. There’s bottles of water in the kitchen if you need it.”

Jimin nodded, still pouting, and Yoongi just shook his head and turned to leave, closing the door
behind him.

Jimin sighed, wrapping himself in a blanket and turning towards the fire. He wasn’t willing to give
up so easily, but Yoongi seemed pretty adamant that he wasn’t going to accept Jimin despite never
even trying to bond with him. Jimin had a few more persuasive tricks up his sleeve, but he was
honestly exhausted from a full day flying in the wind and rain. He’d try again in the morning, once
he’d managed to get a good night’s sleep.

He fished out the little sack tied to the end of his broomstick, charmed by his coven before he left
so that it was bigger on the inside and could hold all his belongings. He sifted through the various
items that were all he owned in the world, finally settling on some worn pyjamas to change into.

He brushed his teeth and settled on the sofa, and had to admit that he was grateful he was warm
and dry and near a fire rather than out in the elements alone, even if he was stuck with the
moodiest witch he’d ever met.

---

In the morning, Jimin was awoken by the gentle sounds of cooking from the kitchen.

He stirred slowly, feeling better rested than he had in a long time, and listened to the occasional
clatter of a pan, the sizzle of something frying, and the scent of food lingering in the air. His
stomach rumbled, making itself known.

Jimin opened his eyes and sat up slowly, glancing around the unfamiliar living room. His back was
aching slightly from the sofa - as comfy as Yoongi had made it, it was still just a sofa, and not
quite long enough for him to stretch out or wide enough for him to curl up in the way he normally
would.

The fire had died down overnight, and Jimin shivered, cold. Other than the sounds of movement
from the kitchen, everything was quiet. The storm had completely disappeared.

Jimin sighed. That meant he was going to be kicked out as soon as Yoongi realised he was still
here.

Moving stiffly, Jimin flicked his fingers at the fire, a burst of his magic startling the flames back to
life. He winced as the spell whipped through him, his uncontained magic complaining loudly at
still not having an elder.

He changed back into the robes Yoongi had conjured for him, and then folded up the blankets
neatly on the sofa - Jimin was a good house guest, no matter how rude his host might be. Then he
crossed the room to the window, pulling the blinds up to reveal a warm, sunny morning with no
hint of the storm from the previous night.
The forest crowded right up to the cottage walls. Branches pressed against the glass of the window,
flowers and blossom and moss calling for attention. Jimin could faintly hear birdsong - it was still
early morning, he’d guess.

His stomach rumbled again, so Jimin turned, deciding to venture out to the kitchen where the smell
of warm food emanated from. He twisted the door handle quietly, very aware of the strong elder
magic present in the very air surrounding him, and padded his way down the corridor, following
his nose to the next door which stood slightly ajar.

Jimin peeked his head round and found a large kitchen made of the same wood as the walls, almost
as if it had grown organically from the forest itself. The ground was tiled, but somehow still mossy,
and it was much warmer than the living room.

Yoongi stood at the counter, absent-mindedly stirring a pan while his other hand held open a book.
He was dressed in the same long black robes as the day before, but his black hair was ruffled and
there were dark circles under his eyes. The smells coming from the stove had Jimin’s stomach
rumbling again, and he took a tentative step inside the kitchen, not quite able to contain his nerves.

“Some of this is for you,” Yoongi said without looking up from his book. “I’m going to feed you
before I send you on your way.”

Jimin folded his arms. “You’re really going to just kick me out without even trying to bond?”

“You’re not my problem, kid.” Yoongi snapped his book shut and turned back to the pan - rice and
some kind of vegetable stew, Jimin would guess.

“But you don’t even know if we’re compatible,” Jimin argued, crossing to take a seat at the large
wooden table in the centre of the kitchen.

“I don’t need to.”

“But—”

“No, kid.” Yoongi turned the stove off and piled the stew onto two plates, then crossed the kitchen
to place one in front of Jimin with a pair of chopsticks and a spoon. “I’ve resisted an apprentice for
over six hundred years, I’m not about to make an exception for you.”

Jimin almost choked. He stared as Yoongi took a seat opposite him and opened his book again,
seemingly ignoring Jimin. “Six hundred years?”

Yoongi didn’t say anything.

Jimin couldn’t stop staring at Yoongi, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. He’d known the energy
witch was old, but six hundred years was ancient. No wonder he was so powerful, or that magic sat
so thick in the air inside this cottage that Jimin could almost taste it.

He closed his mouth, finally taking a bite of stew, and then asked, “Is that why this forest is so big?
You’ve grown it all yourself?”

Yoongi grunted.

“And you’ve been alone all this time?”

“I like it this way,” Yoongi said, buried back in his book.

Jimin frowned, staring down at his stew. It tasted delicious - he couldn’t remember the last time
he’d had such a good home meal. Seokjin had cooked for him, back in Namjoon’s coven, but Jimin
had been too nervous about potentially bonding with Namjoon to properly enjoy it.

“No wonder you’re so rude,” Jimin said between mouthfuls. “If you’ve been starved of company
for six centuries.”

Yoongi snorted. “Insulting me is an interesting way to get on my good side.”

“You’re the one who’s missing out,” Jimin shrugged. “I’d make a great apprentice.”

“Two hundred and seven elders didn’t think so.”

“It’s not my fault my magic’s unstable.”

“Mhmm.” Yoongi lifted his book higher, going back to ignoring Jimin.

Jimin sighed. He twirled his chopsticks in the leftover sauce, feeling despondent. He really was
going to have to go back to Namjoon with his tail between his legs, and from there… well. He’d
have to go back to a city, find a library, and get back to researching. There were still the rare
branches of air magic that he hadn’t tried yet.

When they were done, Yoongi got to his feet, picking up both their plates and carrying them to the
sink without acknowledging Jimin again. Jimin avoided looking at him. His chest felt heavy. He
wasn’t looking forward to the long flight back - something about this forest was comforting, and he
didn’t want to leave.

But he knew he didn’t exactly have much choice, so he got back to his feet and headed back to the
living room to pack. It was hard to be in Yoongi’s presence when Jimin knew he was about to get
kicked out.

As he was reluctantly piling his belongings back into the sack on the end of his broomstick, Jimin’s
eyes fell upon some plants Yoongi had growing on the windowsill - seedlings by the look of them.
They were in a row, still tiny, but one of them had browning leaves and looked a lot smaller than
the other three.

Jimin frowned. He approached the window and peered at the pots, trying to see the difference, and
- oh. There was a tiny weed taking root in the browning seedling’s soil.

Jimin acted without thinking. He remembered how Yoongi’s energy magic had worked in the
garden yesterday, the soft golden glow gently encouraging the plants to grow, and he emulated it
on instinct. Magic buzzing inside him, Jimin lifted one finger and lightly brushed the curled, sad
leaves of the dying plant.

Instantly, a golden glow seeped from Jimin’s fingers, and the plant perked up right away. The
brown leaked out of the leaves, turning back to a healthy green, and the weed in the soil shrivelled
up until Jimin could easily pull it loose from the pot. The seedling instantly grew a few
centimetres, matching up to its siblings in the other pots.

Jimin stepped back, proud of himself, the dead weed clutched in his palm. His magic tingled
pleasantly in his veins.

“Well, shit.”

Jimin jerked, jumping so violently he knocked the newly-rejuvenated seedling right off the
windowsill. A rush of magic that didn’t come from him burst through the air and caught the
seedling before it could hit the ground, floating the pot safely back to the windowsill.

Jimin turned, heart pattering, to see Yoongi leaning in the doorway, eyeing Jimin with an
exasperated expression.

“Don’t ruin your good work.” Yoongi glanced from the seedlings back to Jimin, and then
beckoned him closer. “Let me see that weed.”

Confused, Jimin approached, opening his palm. He stopped a pace away from Yoongi, but Yoongi
stepped closer and examined the weed in Jimin’s hand closely, his lips pursed. His expression gave
nothing away.

Jimin fidgeted. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d done something wrong.

“Shit,” Yoongi said eventually. “How did you do that?”

Jimin frowned, confused. “...Uh. A spell?”

Yoongi reached down and picked up the weed from Jimin’s palm, their fingers brushing for just a
second. Jimin shivered at the old magic he could feel emanating from Yoongi’s skin, but Yoongi
didn’t seem to notice as he examined the weed, his dark eyes unreadable.

Then he fixed Jimin with a hard stare. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“Do what?” Jimin asked, bewildered.

“Oh come on. No one can just use energy magic as simply as that.”

“I used energy magic?” Jimin said, taken aback.

Yoongi huffed, holding up the weed. “Nothing else could deal with this so fast. For the record, I
had my eye on that seedling, I was going to sort it out once you’d left. But you can’t leave now, can
you?”

Jimin gaped. “What?”

“I can’t let you just go running amok now you know how to use energy magic,” Yoongi grumbled.

Jimin could hardly believe his ears. His magic thrummed in his veins, pulsing to the beat of his
heart. He still hadn’t settled into one discipline, so he usually ended up performing spells with a
mix of elemental magic, as his birth coven was an elemental one, so it felt most familiar to him.
He’d never picked up a new form of magic so quickly. “Did I… really use energy magic?”

“Don’t tell me that wasn’t deliberate,” Yoongi frowned.

Jimin shook his head rapidly. “I swear, I just saw the seedling and I thought—”

“And you thought what?”

“I don’t know! I felt sorry for it!”

“You felt sorry for it?” Yoongi asked, incredulous.

“Yes!” Jimin said defensively. “It looked sad! And I remembered what you were doing in your
garden yesterday, so I just thought I could help!”
Yoongi pursed his lips, studying Jimin with a sharp, dark gaze. Jimin fought the urge to quail under
that harsh stare, instead lifting his chin and holding his ground.

After a short silence, Yoongi huffed, making the weed disappear with a snap of his fingers. “Well, I
really can’t let you go now. If you’re telling the truth—”

“I am!”

“—Then you’re gonna need to stick around so I can teach you how to harness energy magic
safely.” Yoongi gave a deep sigh, crossing his arms. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill Kim Namjoon.”

Jimin paused, trying to wrap his head around what Yoongi was saying. The beginnings of hope
started to unfurl in his chest. “Wait - wait, are you saying you’re gonna take me on?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Yoongi warned. “I’m not doing this willingly.”

“I’m gonna be your apprentice?” Excitement started to take hold and Jimin beamed. “For real?”

“You’re not exactly giving me much choice,” Yoongi grunted.

“Yes! I swear you won’t regret this, Yoongi elder-nim.” Jimin bounced on the balls of his feet,
eagerness sweeping through him. “I’m a really fast learner and—”

“You’d better be,” Yoongi muttered. “Energy magic is no joke. You’d best be prepared to work
hard.”

“Yes, I swear.”

“And don’t get in my way. I’ve got too much to do already without hand-holding a baby witch.”

“I’m really not a baby,” Jimin pointed out. “I’m twenty-three.”

“And I’m six-hundred-and-thirteen. You’re a baby.”

Jimin opened his mouth to argue, but Yoongi gave him a withering look, so he closed it again and
shut up.

“Right.” Yoongi glanced around his room, heaving a deep sigh, and then strode over to the sofa-
turned-bed. “First things first - I’m confiscating this.”

Jimin turned and gave a cry when he saw Yoongi picking up his broomstick. “What? No, I need
that!”

“You don’t even know how to fly properly,” Yoongi grunted. He clicked his fingers and the
broomstick disappeared in a flash of gold.

“Yah!” Jimin cried, indignant. “That’s mine!”

“I’m not letting you get injured on my watch.”

“But—”

“No arguments.” Yoongi fixed him with a stern look again, folding his arms. “You could have died
from your fall yesterday. It’s a fuckin’ miracle you haven’t already caused yourself permanent
damage in the last five years, I’m not risking it. You can have it back once you’ve actually
mastered flying.”
Jimin huffed, pouting.

Yoongi just snorted. “Weren’t you just begging me to take you on yesterday? You can’t get pissed
at me now I’m doing what you want.”

“I didn’t think you were going to steal from me,” Jimin pointed out, petulant.

“It’s not stealing,” Yoongi muttered. He crossed the room to the seedling and held his hand over
the plant Jimin had treated, pursing his lips. “Come over here and walk me through exactly what
you did.”

Confused as he was, Jimin obliged. He could hardly believe his luck - he’d truly been prepared to
walk out of here with another failed apprenticeship under his belt, but somehow he’d landed
himself one of the most powerful elders out there.

Energy magic.

“I don’t really know what I did,” Jimin confessed, hovering at Yoongi’s shoulder and staring at the
(now happily green) seedling. “I thought about what you were doing yesterday, in your garden, and
it just… felt right?”

Yoongi hummed, brushing his fingers against the seedling’s delicate leaves. Jimin felt the gentle
waft of his magic in the air and had to clamp down his own instinct to respond.

“Interesting.” Yoongi turned his head, close enough to Jimin that Jimin could see the smattering of
freckles across his nose. “There’s no denying you have an affinity.”

Jimin brightened. “I do?”

“Unfortunately.”

Jimin wouldn’t be dissuaded. “So will you bond with me? So I can really start to learn?”

“Don’t be so eager,” Yoongi muttered, giving his seedling one last pat before he stepped away,
Jimin trailing after him. “I have to sort some things out first.”

“Like?”

“Like getting you your basic supplies, for one,” Yoongi said, picking up Jimin’s sack of belongings
and frowning at the contents. “Who charmed this for you?”

“My birth coven leader.”

“Why is it so wonky?”

“It isn’t wonky!” Jimin huffed.

“It’s wonky,” Yoongi said, straight-faced. “I could charm this better in my sleep.”

Jimin glared. “You’re so rude—”

“It’s not rude when this is such shoddy work.” Yoongi frowned, shaking the sack. Jimin winced at
the sound of his belongings bouncing around inside. “A charm like this should hold up way better
when it’s only been five years.”

“I’ve moved around a lot,” Jimin defended, folding his arms.

Yoongi’s lips twitched. “Evidently.” He turned the sack upside-down, ignoring Jimin’s pained cry,
and tipped all of his belongings out on the floor in a messy, scattered pile.

Jimin sighed, watching his life’s work spill across the rug.

Yoongi arched a brow, scanning the contents of Jimin’s sack - a few change of clothes, three old
books with pages curling from being out in the rain, a couple of trinkets and a talisman from his
birth coven - and heaved a heavy sigh. “This is all you’ve got?”

“What was I supposed to do?” Jimin said defensively. “None of the bondings worked, I never got
to the stage of building my kit.”

“Hopeless,” Yoongi muttered under his breath. He picked up one of the books and frowned at the
sticky pages and near-illegible writing. “What happened to this?”

“I got lost in a storm.”

“I don’t even want to ask. You don’t treat books like this,” Yoongi muttered under his breath,
tapping the book with one long finger. A rush of magic spurted through the air and the book
straightened itself out, the text becoming clear again. “This isn’t even the newest edition! And why
do you have—”

Jimin fidgeted, folding his arms and watching as Yoongi picked apart his belongings, apparently
horrified at the state they were in. Jimin could hardly be blamed - he’d been trying to sort himself
out, but five years was a long time to be without a coven and a home.

So he endured it, letting Yoongi despair over the state of his belongings. He was kind of amused by
the elder witch’s blunt descriptions and colourful language, if he was honest with himself.

“We’re gonna fix this right fuckin’ now,” Yoongi said eventually. “Anything from here you want
to keep?”

Jimin snatched up the talisman and one of the books his mother had given him, glaring when
Yoongi frowned at him. “I know it’s an old edition, but it has sentimental value.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, but allowed it. Then he snapped his fingers and every single one of Jimin’s
belongings, including the sack itself, disappeared with a faint crack.

Jimin gaped. “Yah! What are you—?”

“I’m gonna get you better equipment,” Yoongi interrupted, already turning to the door and
beckoning Jimin after him. “No apprentice of mine is using such shoddy tools.”

“My birth coven gave me those, you know?” Jimin complained, following Yoongi into the
corridor. “You don’t need to criticise their magic so much.”

“Let me guess,” Yoongi said, tone dry. “Water magic?”

Jimin paused, thrown. “How did you know?”

“Everything stinks of the sea.” Yoongi wrinkled his nose, pulling open the furthest door down the
corridor and waving Jimin in. “Come on, we don’t have all day.”

Jimin pursed his lips, looking around curiously as he stepped inside. This must be Yoongi’s office -
there was a desk in the corner by the window covered in bottles and vials and paperwork, and
another large set of bookshelves lined the walls, books crammed in wherever they would fit. The
room was dark, but Yoongi clicked his fingers and the lamp on the desk came to life, illuminating
spidery, cramped handwriting scrawled over the parchments.

“If you come from water magic, that might explain why you have an affinity for energy,” Yoongi
hummed, going to a cabinet in the corner and opening one of the ancient, creaky doors. None of
the furniture matched in here, either.

Jimin ran his fingers along the spines of some of the books, marvelling at the fragility of the paper.
“How come?”

“Elemental magic is all linked, and energy is the purest form,” Yoongi answered, still buried in the
cabinet.

“My mother is a water witch.”

“Explains a lot,” Yoongi muttered, withdrawing finally with a new bag in his hands - this one a
deep, velvety black compared to Jimin’s old dirty white one. “Haven’t used this in years, but I can
re-charm it for you. Anything I don’t have spares of, we’ll have to go to the market to get.”

Jimin nodded, excitement taking over his irritation again. He’d wondered for years what sort of
starter kit he’d be given once he finally found an apprenticeship.

He watched in awe as Yoongi tapped the edge of the bag and murmured a storage spell under his
breath, the golden glow of his magic seeping from his fingers and wrapping around the bag so that
it would be bigger on the inside. The flow of magic was gentle, already familiar to Jimin in a way
that no other spell had ever been.

When he was done, Yoongi hunted through the shelves in his office, showing Jimin the books he
was pulling down and piling into the bag, along with a few other trinkets and some potions that
were vital for every witch, even apprentices, apparently.

“This is a healing potion - so if you take any more tumbles like you did yesterday, you won’t have
to prey on the kindness of random strangers you happen across.”

“You mean grumpy old elders who don’t know how to speak to other people?”

Yoongi grunted, pinning Jimin with a sharp glare. “You’re on thin ground, baby witch.”

Jimin just grinned, his good mood impossible to squash.

Yoongi let out a long-suffering sigh and turned back to the cabinet, continuing to show Jimin all
the basics he would need. Jimin brightened considerably when Yoongi pulled out a two-way
mirror.

“You don’t have one?” Yoongi arched a brow.

“I did, but it broke in my third year travelling.”

“So how have you kept in contact with anyone?”

“I haven’t,” Jimin admitted with a grimace. “My mother is going to kill me as soon as I get back in
touch.”

Yoongi just snorted and added the mirror to the sack. “I don’t have a wand, and it would be better
for you to pick your own anyway, so we’ll have to go to the market tomorrow. Plus I’m short on a
few potions.”

“I could help you make them?” Jimin offered, excited.

Yoongi gave him a flat look. “I’m not trusting you with anything like that yet. We start with the
basics.”

Jimin nodded eagerly, not dissuaded. He was willing to learn from wherever Yoongi wanted to
start, no matter how mundane or boring the tasks might be to start with - the first few months of an
apprenticeship were more about bonding rather than teaching, from what Jimin had read.

Yoongi closed the cabinet and scanned the books in his library, pursing his lips. “What languages
can you read?”

“I know a bit of modern runes.”

“Middle runes? Any old languages? Inscriptions?”

Jimin shook his head. “None of those. What’s an inscription?”

Yoongi muttered something under his breath and walked right past an entire wall of bookshelves.
“We’ll start over here, then.”

Jimin trailed after him, watching as Yoongi pulled out something that looked like a dictionary.
“Energy magic is one of the oldest disciplines, so you need to learn our old languages. There’s
three that you’ll definitely need, and another couple that would be useful.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “You want me to learn five new languages?”

“To start with.” Yoongi seemed oblivious to Jimin’s choked noise, adding the books to his sack
before beckoning Jimin out of the door. “Now, onto the plants—”

The rest of the morning was spent with Yoongi leading Jimin around his cottage to show him the
various indoor plants he had growing, explaining each one’s properties and care needs. After the
first few, Jimin begged for a notebook, which Yoongi conjured up for him, and he began furiously
scribbling to try and keep up.

He wasn’t familiar with much of what Yoongi was showing him, but Jimin was determined to
learn fast. He’d prove to Yoongi that he’d be a good apprentice, that Yoongi hadn’t made a mistake
in taking him on.

They paused for a lunch break - more of the stew that Jimin learned Yoongi made from his own
homegrown herbs - and Jimin read back over everything he’d scribbled in his notebook, asking
Yoongi questions about anything he didn’t understand.

Surprisingly, Yoongi had a lot of patience. He didn’t mind when Jimin asked him to explain
something again, and while he was still sarcastic and sharp-tongued, he never made Jimin feel
stupid.

“A lot of this will come with time,” Yoongi explained, more gently than Jimin expected from him.
“You won’t feel this overwhelmed for long.”

“How long?” Jimin asked, staring glumly at his notebook.

“Oh, a few years, maybe.”

Jimin’s head shot up to stare at Yoongi. “What?”

Yoongi just smirked, his warm dark eyes amused. “Come now, didn’t you want to learn? You’ve
spent the last twenty-four hours practically begging me for this, after all.”

Jimin pursed his lips, but nodded. “I’m not a quitter. I said I’d work hard and I mean it.”

Yoongi studied him for a long moment, his lips quirking up just slightly, and Jimin felt like he
might have just passed some sort of test.

Yoongi hummed, floating both their bowls over to the sink with a careless swipe of his hand.
“We’ll see. Got to find out how well the bond takes first.”

Jimin sat up straighter. “We’re going to bond now?”

“Got to at some point,” Yoongi shrugged, and held out a hand.

Jimin blinked, staring across the table at Yoongi. “Like - right now?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Jimin swallowed, nervous. Most of the elder’s he’d tried to bond with so far had some sort of ritual
or ceremony they liked to perform for a bonding - Jimin had been forced to stand inside a hand-
drawn circle of salt, breath in burning herbs until he choked, and even step inside a fireplace with
the flames still lit in one memorable attempt. Even Namjoon had him perform the bonding beside
their most powerful plants in the greenhouse.

Yoongi just raised a brow at him. “Well?”

Jimin swallowed, deciding to trust Yoongi - he’d have to learn to do that sooner or later if this
worked out, which he really hoped it would.

Pushing aside his concerns, Jimin took Yoongi’s hand and braced himself for impact.

But… nothing happened.

No instant explosion, no rush of uncontrollable magic bursting through his veins, no cry of pain or
the ground shaking beneath them. All Jimin felt was a gentle flow of old magic pulsing between
them, and his own magic gradually responding.

It was nothing like any of his previous bonding attempts. The magic within Jimin built slowly,
responding to the call of Yoongi’s, and Jimin almost gasped at the tug in his core as the spell began
to take hold. Heat sparked where his hand met Yoongi’s, beginning at the point their skin touched
and flooding through the rest of them, down their arms and torsos until it spread from the top of
their heads right to the tips of their toes.

There was one final rush of magic as the spell sealed, and then - that was it. The bonding was
complete.

Jimin almost didn’t believe it. He opened his eyes slowly, peeking down at his arm expecting to
see burns, or a scorched table, or some other sign that the bond was too volatile to hold - but there
was nothing. Just the gentle hum of magic, and Yoongi’s hand still in his.

“Well, I seem to still have a roof.” Yoongi’s low, amused tone broke the silence, and Jimin opened
his eyes fully to find Yoongi glancing around the room, apparently satisfied. “Were you trying to
scare me by telling me that?”

Jimin shook his head, bewildered. “I swear - every other time I’ve attempted a bond, something has
gone horribly wrong.”

“Not this time,” Yoongi shrugged, finally taking his hand out of Jimin’s grip. Jimin winced,
bracing for another tug of painful magic, but once again there was nothing - he could still feel the
bond gently bubbling away just under his skin. “Come on - I need to show you how the wards on
my cottage work.”

Jimin sat still for another moment, in shock. He glanced down at his own hands, then checked the
rest of his body for any damage, but there really was nothing.

He’d never expected a bonding to go so smoothly. Was this how they were meant to feel? No
explosions or fear or pain?

“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi called from the corridor, and Jimin jumped at the familiar address. “Are you
coming or not?”

“Yes!” Jimin answered, clambering to his feet and scurrying after Yoongi into the corridor. He
could hardly believe his luck - such a simple bonding had to be a good sign, right? His magic and
Yoongi’s had to be really compatible.

At least, he thought so. He’d ask Namjoon later that night, now he had a two-way mirror he could
use to communicate. Namjoon had asked for an update anyway. But for now, he had a lot more to
learn, so he scurried after Yoongi with his notebook in hand.

---

“Jimin-ssi!”

Jimin grinned, holding up the mirror from his place sprawled on the sofa-turned-bed in Yoongi’s
lounge. The fire crackled away merrily beside him, a pleasant background noise as he waited for
the image in the mirror to solidify.

A few cracks broke across the mirror as the spell took hold, and then an image of Namjoon’s face
swam into view, his dimples just visible. “Jimin-ssi? Are you there?”

“Hi, Namjoon-ssi!” Jimin beamed, waving as the image focused fully. He could make out the
kitchen counter behind Namjoon, a clatter of pots and pans, and Seokjin’s voice sounded from
somewhere far away.

“Is that Park Jimin?”

“It is!” Namjoon looked positively thrilled. “You have a mirror, so I take it things went well?”

Jimin nodded eagerly. “Yoongi elder-nim is who you wanted me to find, right? Because I’m in his
cottage right now, and we’re bonded! He’s gonna take me on!”

A distant cheer that sounded like Hoseok echoed faintly through the mirror.

Namjoon beamed. “Finally, good news!”

“How did the bond take?” Seokjin’s face blurred into view, leaning over Namjoon’s shoulder.
“Really well! No explosions or anything!”

“Excellent.” Seokjin sounded satisfied, patting Namjoon on the shoulder before turning away
again. “You were right, Joon-ah.”

“Told you.” Namjoon said smugly. “Tell me everything, Jimin-ah - how did you get him to accept
you? I thought we’d have you back here soon enough, I was sure he’d scare you away.”

Jimin smiled a little sheepishly. “Well, he did nearly send me away. But I used some energy magic
by accident, so he said he can’t let me go now.”

“You used energy magic? Already?”

“It was an accident,” Jimin explained. “But Yoongi-ssi said it means I have an affinity, so I get to
learn with him!”

“Fascinating,” Namjoon murmured, his dark eyes calculating. “Tell me more.”

And Jimin did, the next few minutes filled with him explaining how he cured the seedling and all
the things Yoongi had shown him for the rest of the day. Jimin’s little notebook was already a
quarter full, and he was exhausted, but his brain was buzzing with all the new knowledge.
Excitement was making it difficult to relax.

“That’s great,” Namjoon said warmly. “Don’t let him scare you away - he’s got a sharp tongue on
him, but secretly Yoongi-hyung is a massive pushover.”

Jimin raised his brows, surprised. “...Are you sure? He’s been grumpy with me all day.”

“He’s a grumpy old man,” Namjoon agreed. “But he’s had almost no company in the four hundred
years that I’ve known him. I think you’ll be good for him, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin smiled. “I’m gonna do my best.”

Hoseok clattered into view then, skidding onto the sofa in his red panda form, bushy tail held high.
Namjoon stroked his head, but Hoseok ignored him to stare into the mirror and screech. “Jimin-ah!
I’m so proud of you, well done!”

“Thank you,” Jimin said modestly. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to seeing an animal talking -
the first time all of Namjoon’s coven had shifted around him, he’d screamed out loud. But Hoseok
was admittedly cute, with the teardrop markings around his eyes and the bushy red tail.

“We’ll come visit you in a few weeks,” Hoseok added, digging his claws into Namjoon’s lap and
making Namjoon wince. “Just to make sure you’re still alive and hyung hasn’t killed you for
putting the milk in the vegetable drawer, or something.”

Jimin laughed lightly. “I appreciate that. I get the feeling Yoongi elder-nim is a bit of a loner?”

“You’d be right,” Namjoon said, solemn.

“We’re trying to change that, though,” Hoseok added.

Seokjin’s voice floated from the kitchen, shouting, “We’ve been trying that for the last three
centuries and we haven’t succeeded yet!”

“Well,” Jimin said, beaming. “You haven’t had me before.”

Hoseok waved his tail high, almost knocking Namjoon’s glasses off his face. “I like the way you
think, Jimin-ah!”

Jimin smiled, proud, and chatted with them for a few more minutes before Seokjin yelled that
dinner was ready and if the two of them didn’t get their asses to the table on time he was going to
do something that sounded incredibly painful. Jimin waved goodbye, promising to keep in touch,
and ended the spell, the surface of the mirror turning reflective again as the image disappeared.

Jimin put the mirror down and sighed, glancing around the cosy living room. The sofa bed still
wasn’t big enough for him to sprawl out the way he’d like, and the clashing furniture bothered him
a bit, but mostly, Jimin still couldn’t quite believe his luck. The feeling of ancient magic weighed
thick in the air, infused into the very walls, and the quiet of the forest surrounding them was more
peaceful than anything Jimin had experienced in the past five years of his hectic life.

Finally, he felt at peace.

He basked in the quiet for a few moments more before picking up the mirror again, bracing
himself. He really needed to explain himself to his mother.

---

The next day, Yoongi announced over breakfast that he’d be taking Jimin to the market.

Jimin rubbed blearily at his eyes, breathing in the steam from the stew in his bowl. He was
exhausted, kept up late by his mother furiously berating him for not getting in touch for over two
years, before taking him all around his birth coven to announce that The Ever-Wandering Park
Jimin had finally found himself an elder to apprentice to. He’d enjoyed chatting to his mother
again, but hadn’t really expected to be cooed over by everyone in his former coven at once.

He took a mouthful of too-hot stew to try and wake himself up and glanced at Yoongi across the
dining table. “The market?”

“Mhmm.” Yoongi didn’t look up, engrossed in a book as always. “Need to get the last few supplies
for your kit. Plus I’m gonna need more food before you eat me out of house and home.”

“Yah,” Jimin sniffed. “You offered.”

Yoongi raised a brow without looking up.

“Uh, I mean, of course, elder-nim,” Jimin quickly corrected, and changed the subject despite
Yoongi’s amused snort. “How far is the market?”

“It should take about half-a-day there and back if we walk fast.”

Jimin blanched. “We’re not going to fly?”

At that, Yoongi finally looked up from his book, giving Jimin a hard stare. “You’re not going
anywhere near a broomstick until you’ve shown me that your magic is fully stabilised.”

Jimin pouted, shoving another spoonful of stew into his mouth. He already felt better since the
successful bonding yesterday - no more random bursts of magic, and he’d been able to use the two-
way mirror with little difficulty keeping the charm in place. His magic buzzed pleasantly under his
skin, relieved to finally be around an elder who’d accepted him.

The bond was still fuzzy, but Jimin knew that with time he’d be able to sense Yoongi’s
whereabouts at all times, their magic joined until Jimin became a full witch himself. Years would
pass before that happened, and Jimin was more than looking forward to staying in the same place
for more than a few night’s at a time.

“We’ll set off as soon as you’re finished,” Yoongi said, burying himself back in his book.

Jimin nodded, eating faster and trying not to stare at the small furrow between Yoongi’s eyebrows,
the smattering of freckles he knew he had scattered over his nose. He was fascinated by his new
elder with the pretty face and warm, dark eyes.

Once Jimin finished eating, Yoongi packed up a satchel with a few of their supplies, including his
own wand and a few plant cuttings as well as something to eat while they were out. Then they
headed to the front door, where Jimin was surprised to see a new cloak and pair of shoes laid out
for him in the corridor which definitely hadn’t been there yesterday. There was even a second
pointy hat.

“You need supplies,” was all Yoongi said before pulling on his own shoes.

Jimin beamed, fingering the wonderfully soft fabric of the cloak. He hadn’t had new clothes in
forever. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Stop dawdling and get ready,” Yoongi answered, his tone gruff.

Jimin let out a light laugh and obeyed.

The weather outside was chilly despite the sun shining, dappling the forest with streaks of warm
yellow. Jimin adjusted the hat on his head - his old one had been so tatty that he threw it out a few
months ago and never got around to getting a new one. His cloak was warm and the shoes were
comfortable, and Jimin marvelled at the accuracy of Yoongi’s spells when he’d known Jimin for
less than forty-eight hours.

They walked in silence for the first several minutes. Yoongi stopped every now and then to check
on a certain tree or make sure there were nuts and seeds laid out for the squirrels and birds to eat.

Jimin watched him, curious. “Is this forest really all yours?”

“I don’t own it,” Yoongi muttered, running his hand over the ancient bark of one tree. “It grew up
around me.”

“It wasn’t here when you first moved in?”

“There was one tree. It’s still at the heart of the forest, I think.”

Jimin whistled quietly, glancing around the thick undergrowth. “Must be a lot to maintain.”

“Life thrives off energy magic,” Yoongi shrugged. “I don’t really have to do anything.”

“Plants just gravitate towards you, huh?”

“They’re better than people.”

Jimin laughed, slipping his hands inside his cloak as they started walking again, the moss-carpeted
ground springy underfoot. The fresh, clean scent of crushed flowers accompanied them on their
way.

Not long after they started walking, the trees began to thin, the ground sloping down steeply until
Jimin had to steady himself against a tree so he didn’t slip. He was a bit confused - he’d had to fly
for hours when he first came to this forest to find Yoongi’s cottage, and he had no idea where
Yoongi’s cottage popped up from. He was sure they’d have to walk further to find any hint of
civilisation.

But, not long after, they came to the edge of the forest where the ground dropped away beneath
them in a steep cliff. Nestled in the valley beyond was a sweet little town, all thatched roofs and
neat gardens with windy cobblestone paths leading between them.

Jimin frowned, wiping his brow. “Okay, I did not see this yesterday, and I was flying for hours!”

Yoongi chuckled. “Yeah. That happens.”

“What happens?”

“My forest protects me,” Yoongi explained, pausing to let Jimin catch his breath - Yoongi seemed
annoyingly unperturbed. “My cottage is enchanted to reappear in whichever part of the forest I
most need it to. In this case, I needed it to be close to the village, so here we are.”

Jimin blinked. “Your cottage is enchanted?”

“Yeah. I’m bound to it - remind me to do the spell later to bind you too, wouldn’t want you getting
lost in the forest.”

Jimin thought about a night spent alone in the dark amongst the trees and shuddered. Then he
frowned. “But if you can enchant it to appear anywhere, why didn’t you just put it right next to the
village so we didn’t have to walk at all?”

“Because I don’t want any random strangers finding it,” Yoongi said with a straight face. “I don’t
take kindly to witches turning up at my doorstep.”

“I found you.”

“I’d been aware of you flying over my forest for most of the day. When you fell, I thought I’d
better at least check you hadn’t died.”

Jimin huffed, adjusting his bag as they started down the cliff again. “Charming.”

Yoongi’s lips twitched, but he didn’t reply, instead leading Jimin down a narrow, steep path into
the valley.

The village was quiet even though it was mid-morning, a sleepy little place tucked away in the
corner of the world. Jimin glanced around, taking everything in - the little bookshop, several cafes
and tea places, one restaurant that looked like it had seen better days. The only people out were dog
walkers.

They all avoided Yoongi.

Yoongi didn’t spare them a second glance, either, keeping his head down and leading Jimin
through the tiny streets at a brisk place. He only stopped when they walked down the long high
street (pretty much the only road in the entire place) and found themselves in front of an
apothecary.

Jimin brightened as soon as he saw it. “There are other witches here?”
Yoongi nodded, hunting in his bag. “This is where we get our supplies. It’s also where I sell my
plants when they’re ready, so you should get used to coming here.”

Jimin nodded, studying the store front. He instantly liked it. Candles hung suspended in the
window, charmed to float, and various spellbooks were laid out on display, their ancient leather
spines cracked.

Yoongi resurfaced from his bag with a tiny, leafy plant in a little pot held delicately in one hand.
“Come on,” he said, stepping up to the doorway and beckoning Jimin after him. “No point in
coming here if you’re just going to gawp.”

“I’m coming,” Jimin said hastily, stumbling after Yoongi into the shop.

A tinkling bell announced their arrival as soon as they stepped through the door. The strong scent
of herbs hit Jimin like a wall, and it took him a few seconds to adjust to the lighting - the candles
were much dimmer than the bright sunny morning outside.

The tiny shop was crammed. Shelves were pushed into every corner they could fit, leaving narrow,
haphazard aisles to squeeze through without trying to knock over the large displays of broomsticks
and mirrors and wands that took up almost all of any remaining space. In the far back corner, a
counter was somehow squished against one wall, and behind it stood a tall, intimidatingly
handsome young man with clever eyes and an odd-shaped smile, dressed in floor-length deep red
robes.

“Hi, Yoongi-hyung!” the man announced. “Wasn’t expecting you today.”

“Had an emergency,” Yoongi muttered, approaching the counter with Jimin trailing after him,
staring around curiously. “Plus, your elder said she needed a new sandfyre cutting.”

“Please tell me you’ve managed to find one,” the man begged, leaning dramatically over the
counter. “She’s been on my case for weeks.”

Yoongi just held out the tiny pot in answer.

The man beamed, taking it from him and studying the delicate leaves. He broke out into his odd-
shaped grin, his entire face lighting up. “You’re a lifesaver, hyung.”

Yoongi just waved him away.

Jimin watched the interaction, slightly amused. He couldn’t imagine anyone calling Yoongi
‘hyung’.

The man behind the counter set the plant down and directed all his attention to Jimin, pinning him
under a sudden sharp stare. Jimin met his eyes, feeling magic coursing from him - this man was a
witch too, unsurprisingly. His magic was much, much younger than Yoongi’s, though - closer to
Jimin’s, in fact. Maybe he was an apprentice as well.

“Who is this?” The man raised a brow, never taking his eyes off Jimin’s face.

Yoongi barely looked up from studying a set of dried flowers on the counter. “My apprentice.”

“Your what?!”

“You heard me, Tae.”

“I can’t have heard right,” the man said faintly, staring at Jimin with renewed interest. “An
apprentice? You?”

“It took some convincing,” Jimin said, biting back a grin. “I’m very persistent.”

“Unfortunately,” Yoongi muttered under his breath.

The man shook his head in wonder. He beckoned Jimin towards him. “Come here, I need to take a
look at you - I didn’t think anyone would ever make Yoongi take on an apprentice.”

“Like I said, I’m persistent,” Jimin said with a grin.

The man beamed back at him. “About time we had another apprentice around here anyway. Wait
until I tell Guk, he’s gonna freak. What’s your name?”

“Park Jimin.”

“I’m Kim Taehyung,” the witch introduced himself, breaking into another broad smile.
“Apprentice to Cha Yejin - well, one of them. We have all the supplies you could need here, and
also company that isn’t a grumpy ancient elder, so if you need a break or want some civilisation,
come visit any time!”

Jimin grinned, struggling to keep up with the pace of Taehyung’s chatter. “I’ll do that. How long
have you been here?”

“Me? Four years now,” Taehyung said cheerily. “I’m twenty-three.”

“Really? Me too!”

“You are?” Taehyung’s eyes lit up. “That’s amazing! I was gonna say you could call me hyung, but
oh well. How come it’s taken you this long to start an apprenticeship?”

Jimin winced. “Long story.”

Yoongi snorted from beside him, still buried in the dried flower selection. “Along with a couple of
blown-up buildings.”

Jimin shushed him, flushing.

Taehyung just raised his brows. Before he could ask any more, though, the back door behind the
counter opened and another witch breezed into the shop, dressed in the same long robes as
Taehyung, except his were black. He was carrying a cauldron filled with a strange-smelling potion
that belched out purple smoke at random intervals, only a tuft of dark hair visible behind it.

“Tae, I thought you were gonna help me carry this,” the witch grumbled, hefting the huge cauldron
around the side of the counter. “It’s fuckin’ heavy.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. He recognised that voice - he’d heard it screaming his name countless times
as children playing, leaning their first curses together and sharing notes at school.

He could hardly believe his ears, but then the witch lowered the cauldron and the tuft of black hair
turned into an amazingly familiar round face, complete with large, deceptively-innocent eyes and
cute bunny teeth.

“Gukkie?!” Jimin said, incredulous.

The witch almost jumped out of his skin, jerking his head up. As soon as he caught sight of Jimin,
he gasped and promptly dropped the cauldron. It fell on its side, the contents pouring out across the
flagstone floor in a slow, purple sludge, filling the air with an unpleasant smell.

“Jimin-ssi?!” the witch looked flabbergasted.

“That’s hyung to you!” Jimin laughed, tearing around the counter to grab the witch’s shoulders,
holding him at arm’s length to have a good look at him. “I cannot believe it - what are you doing
here, Jeon Jeongguk?!”

“I could say the same to you!” Jeongguk laughed. His eyes crinkled as he smiled, pulling Jimin into
a tight hug.

“You’ve grown,” Jimin complained, his words muffled against Jeongguk’s robes.

“You haven’t.”

“Yah, you cheeky brat,” Jimin huffed, pulling away again to stare at Jeongguk. “You’ve changed
so much!”

“That’s because the last time you saw me, I was sixteen,” Jeongguk pointed out.

“When did you leave our birth coven?” Jimin shook his head, hardly believing his eyes. “And why
are you here?”

“I’m an apprentice,” Jeongguk said proudly. “Came straight here the minute I turned eighteen.
Yejin elder-nim is the best fire witch in the country, I always knew I wanted to learn from her.”

“You got an apprenticeship on your first try?” Jimin asked, crestfallen.

“Yeah.”

“It was annoying,” Taehyung confirmed, elbowing Jeongguk in the side. “I’d been here a year
already when this kid showed up, and he’s already better than me.”

“You’re exaggerating, hyung,” Jeongguk said, but he sounded smug.

Jimin shook his head, stepping back again to take Jeongguk in. This tall, handsome witch was
barely recognisable from the skinny, knobbly-kneed kid he’d grown up with.

“So you know each other?” Taehyung asked, curious.

“We grew up together,” Jimin confirmed. “I can’t believe this.”

Taehyung’s grin turned positively wicked. “You and I need to talk, Jimin-ah. I need to know all of
Jeonggukkie’s embarrassing childhood stories.”

Jeongguk squawked, horrified, but Jimin just laughed. “I’d be happy to provide, Taehyung-ah.”

“I knew there was a reason I hadn’t missed you,” Jeongguk groaned.

Jimin just laughed again, leaning against the counter, hardly able to contain his delight. The past
five years of his life had been filled with loneliness, and he was tired of being a solitary witch. He
could hardly believe that one of his best friends turned up practically on his doorstep.

“I hate to break up the party.” Yoongi’s voice interrupted Jimin’s thoughts, and he jumped, turning
to see Yoongi smirking at him, evidently amused. “But we still need to get your supplies, and I’d
quite like to be home before nightfall.”

“Sorry, elder-nim!” Jimin scurried back over to Yoongi’s side where he was hovering in front of
the display of wands. “What do I need to do?”

“Just stand there and try not to break anything while I sort out your kit.”

Jimin nodded, watching eagerly as Yoongi inspected the wands.

Jeongguk was openly staring from behind the counter. “Wait - Jimin-hyung. Please tell me you’re
not apprenticed to Yoongi-hyung?”

“Watch your tone, kid,” Yoongi muttered.

Jeongguk wasn’t dissuaded. He stared in shock at Jimin. “You? Really?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jimin asked defensively.

Jeongguk snorted. “You’re gonna blow up the whole town.”

“Yah!”

“Don’t even try and deny it, I witnessed your first three bondings before you left the area and
Hyena-noona is still not recovered.”

“Guk,” Jimin hissed, mortified. “I am not that bad.”

“Oh, so that’s why it’s taken you five years to find an apprenticeship!” Taehyung clapped his
hands, looking positively gleeful. “Yoongi-hyung is gonna have a challenge with you.”

“Don’t remind me,” Yoongi muttered.

Jimin sent both Jeongguk and Taehyung a death glare, but before he could retort, Yoongi turned to
him with a selection of different wands and pushed them all towards Jimin. “Here. Stop flirting and
try these, see which one feels most familiar.”

“I’m not flirting,” Jimin whined while Jeongguk cackled.

“Sounds like you are,” Yoongi grunted, shaking the wands. “Pick.”

“I’m not flirting,” Jimin muttered, but obediently sorted through the wand pile, picking up each
one individually and feeling the magic connect with his own. He tilted his head, lingering over the
third one. “This one, I think.”

“Good.” Yoongi set the rest of the pile down on the counter, much to Taehyung’s horror. Then he
led Jimin round the rest of the shop, picking up ingredients for potions and a couple more books to
add to Jimin’s rapidly-growing collection. Jimin despaired at all the studying he was going to have
to do.

Taehyung and Jeongguk were working together to salvage the purple potion that Jeongguk had
spilled all over the floor, and listening to them bickering was nice background noise. Jimin was
relieved there were two other apprentices close to his age so near - his social life had suffered
massively after five long, solitary years, and much as he was glad to have found Yoongi, the elder
was a bit intimidating.
After Yoongi was satisfied with their basket, they went back to the counter to pay, and Taehyung
slid back over to Jimin while Jeongguk scanned the items.

“We’re really excited you’re here,” Taehyung said with his odd-shaped smile. “I hope you come
and visit lots. I need more friends, Gukkie is a pain.”

“Heard that!” Jeongguk called from the counter.

Jimin snorted. He liked Taehyung already, and reconnecting with Jeongguk was a wonderful
surprise. “I’ll come whenever I can. It’s nice to find other witches after so long.”

“Guk said you’ve been travelling alone all this time. Is that really true?”

Jimin nodded. “I still would be if Yoongi elder-nim hadn’t taken me on.”

“I still don’t know how you managed that,” Taehyung shook his head in disbelief. “Hyung is
grumpy, but he’s really nice underneath. You’ve landed on your feet with him. He always brings us
treats and sells us his plants for way cheaper than he should.”

“Careful, Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi muttered from the counter, fishing out his wallet. “Don’t ruin my
reputation.”

Jimin bit back a smile. “Don’t worry. I’d already figured out elder-nim is secretly a pushover.”

Yoongi shot him a flat look.

Jimin just laughed. He chatted with Taehyung and Jeongguk some more while Yoongi filled up
their bags, and waved reluctantly when it was time to go. Taehyung and Jeongguk both made him
promise to come and visit often, which Jimin had no problem agreeing to.

Back out on the streets, Jimin wrapped his cloak around him to protect himself from the bitter air,
arms laden down with bags. “I can’t believe Gukkie is here of all places. I haven’t seen him in
years.”

“He’s a pain in the ass,” Yoongi said, leading them to the food stalls. “So is Kim Taehyung. You
have bad taste in friends.”

“They’re your friends, not mine,” Jimin pointed out. “Not yet, at least.”

“They’re not my friends. I tolerate them because they work at the only magical supply shop within
an hour of my forest.”

“They said you’re nice to them,” Jimin said slyly. “You slip them treats. Will you slip me treats?”

“You’re a pain in the ass, too.”

Jimin just laughed, feeling sunny. Yoongi’s lips were curving upward despite his grumpy tone, and
Jimin was getting the distinct impression that Yoongi was all bark and no bite. After all, he’d been
an excellent teacher so far, and their bond settled faster than any other spell Jimin had ever tried.
Jimin wouldn’t be dissuaded, no matter how irritable Yoongi might seem.

He had a good feeling about this.

---

The first week of Jimin’s apprenticeship went by fast.

Before he knew it, Jimin found himself spending hours poring over textbooks, learning ancient
languages he’d never had to grapple with before and struggling to understand the spidery runes
scrawled across yellowing pages. When he wasn’t slaving over books, Jimin was in the garden,
helping Yoongi tend to his plants.

Yoongi himself spent most of his time in his study. Jimin soon learned that Yoongi made his
money by selling potions which he made up painstakingly over the fire in his study, grinding
ingredients he grew himself or foraged from his forest. Ancient magic electrified the air in the
cottage, and it took a while for Jimin to adjust. When a potion was ready, Yoongi had befriended a
tame raven that he’d send to take his orders to the people who requested them. Jimin got the fright
of his life the first time he knocked on Yoongi’s door and found a giant black bird perched casually
on the back of his chair.

Not everything went smoothly, though. Jimin was bored. He enjoyed tending to the plants, but the
only bit of magic he was permitted to do was a simple growing spell Yoongi taught him - actually
the same spell he’d used on the seedling on his first night, but with a bit more structure to it. Other
than that, he was banned from using his magic, and he was frustrated.

Not only that, his back ached constantly from nights spent cramped on the tiny sofabed in the
living room. He appreciated having a permanent roof over his head and somewhere to call his own,
but living out of his sack with no closet and no room to call his own was really starting to bug him.
His belongings had ended up spread around the living room, which only caused Yoongi to get
grumpy with him.

“Can’t you be a little bit tidier?” Yoongi frowned one day, holding up a pair of Jimin’s socks from
the coffee table and wrinkling his nose.

“If I had storage, maybe,” Jimin huffed, busy balancing his latest book on top of the pile stacked
haphazardly by his sofabed. The pile was almost as tall as him.

“That’s going to fall,” Yoongi said knowingly from behind him.

Jimin pursed his lips and didn’t turn around, focusing on getting the book to sit just right. He
steadied it, feeling the pile wobble, and didn’t dare take his hands away yet.

“This room is a disaster,” Yoongi muttered, much to Jimin’s irritation. “I can barely walk around
my own living room, and you’re definitely going to trip and hit your head. I’ve never met anyone
so clumsy.”

“I am not clumsy,” Jimin hissed.

“You’re delusional, too.”

Jimin gritted his teeth, quietly seething. He steadied the book one last time before carefully taking
his hands away, hovering to make sure nothing fell. The pile held, for now.

“Still going to fall,” Yoongi commented.

“It won’t if you stop jinxing it.”

“Jinxing isn’t a proper spell - you know that, it’s silly superstition. That’s going to fall whether I
say it is or not.”

“Not helping,” Jimin stated, voice clipped. He took one careful step back, hands hovering, and just
when he thought the pile was going to hold, the books started swaying, slowly but inevitably
falling.

“No,” Jimin hissed, grabbing for the books, but his sudden movement only sped up the process and
before he knew it, the whole pile fell apart, books raining down to the floor in a series of dramatic
thuds.

“Dammit,” Jimin cursed, hopping when one book landed on his foot.

“Told you,” Yoongi said smugly.

“That is it.” Jimin rounded on him, still hopping, levelling his worst death glare right at Yoongi. “I
have had enough. We are going to do something about this!”

Yoongi froze, looking taken-aback.

“I need space,” Jimin hissed, rubbing his sore toe. “And a proper bed, my back is killing me. I
appreciate you taking me in, really I do, but I’m your apprentice now. That means I’m gonna be
here for a while, and I cannot keep living out of a suitcase and taking over the living room. I want a
closet! I thought when I finally found a permanent home I’d have a closet!”

Yoongi blinked slowly. “...You want a closet.”

“To start with.” Jimin deflated, staring at the books surrounding him on the floor with a defeated
sigh. “Some shelves would be nice. And a bed. I can’t keep living like this.”

“You have a bed.”

“It’s a sofa,” Jimin whined. “It’s tiny. I barely fit.”

Yoongi looked him up-and-down. “But you’re small?”

“Not that small!” Jimin glared at him. “Besides, we’re the same height.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “I’m definitely taller.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Yoongi muttered, folding his arms. “What’s wrong with my sofa?”

“Nothing,” Jimin said dramatically. “It’s a great sofa. But it is not a bed.”

Yoongi pursed his lips. He considered Jimin, tilting his head, his sharp dark eyes pinning Jimin in
place, and Jimin almost lost his nerve. But he was adamant - he’d be staying here for the
foreseeable future, so he needed his own space.

“Can’t you just build me an extra room?” Jimin asked after a short silence. “You can do that, right?
It’s a spell my birth coven used to do whenever we had visitors.”

Yoongi frowned. “I can’t just build a new room. It’ll upset the balance.”

“What balance?”

“The forest,” Yoongi said, much to Jimin’s confusion. “Energy magic is all about balance. I can’t
go changing things without careful consideration.”

“Then please consider it,” Jimin said, tired. “Carefully. Or you’re never going to get your living
room back.”

Yoongi glanced around at the mess of the floor, Jimin’s belongings scattered in corners and taking
over every spare surface available. Then he sighed. “Give me an hour.”

Jimin perked up. “Really?”

“You’re not getting your own room, but I take your point. Wait here.”

Jimin bounced on the balls of his feet, but obediently stayed in place while Yoongi disappeared
into the corridor. He could feel magic stirring in the air, gearing up for a spell, and had to grasp
tight to his own magic to stop it responding. He was itching to try some proper spells, but getting
Yoongi to agree to giving him more space was already a tough battle won. He probably shouldn’t
push his luck.

With a low sigh, Jimin started clearing up the books and papers scattered on the floor, sorting them
into smaller piles and promising them he’d treat them better once he had somewhere proper to keep
them. Then he fished out the ancient rune book he was currently attempting to translate and settled
down at the coffee table, opening his notes and grabbing his pen.

He was absorbed in runic grammar when Yoongi reappeared, clearing his throat to get Jimin’s
attention. Jimin looked up to find Yoongi leaning awkwardly in the doorway, avoiding Jimin’s
eyes.

“You can come now,” Yoongi said, turning back into the corridor. “Bring your things.”

Jimin put down his pen and jumped eagerly to his feet, turning to survey his belongings scattered
all around the room. He didn’t really want to lift them all by hand, so, with a quick glance over his
shoulder to check that Yoongi wasn’t looking, he waved his hand and all his belongings floated
into the air, his magic buzzing under his skin.

Yoongi poked his head around the door at the tug of the spell, his brow furrowed. He surveyed the
scene with a flat look.

“It would take like, six trips otherwise,” Jimin pointed out. “It’s a simple spell, I’ve done it a
thousand times before.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes. “If you blow my cottage up, I will never forgive you.”

“I promise I won’t!”

Yoongi merely rolled his eyes and disappeared back into the corridor, beckoning Jimin after him.
Jimin followed obediently, his clothes and books and wand floating along behind him.

Yoongi stopped in front of the only door Jimin had never been through before. He paused for a
second, clearly hesitant, and turned back to Jimin with a guarded expression on his face. His black
hair fell into his eyes, accentuating his delicate features, and Jimin was struck (not for the first
time) by just how pretty his elder was.

“It’s not much at the moment,” Yoongi explained, one hand one the door handle. “I’ll make more
space over the next few weeks, and you can tell me if you want anything changed. I’ll do my best.”

Jimin nodded, endeared by how earnest Yoongi was being. “It’ll be better than the sofa.”

“If you say so,” Yoongi muttered, and pulled open the door.
Jimin stepped through, taking in the room with a slowly growing smile. There was a large window
set in the opposite wall which let floods of light into the room, keeping it bright and warm, and the
trees and plants of the forest were pressed right up against the windows almost protectively. The
walls were made from the same wood as the rest of the cottage, as if they were part of the forest
itself. The mossy ground was covered in rugs, and abstract paintings hung from the wall.

There were two beds pushed against opposite walls. One was obviously lived in - the sheets were
rumpled, the pillows piled high, and there was a book open on the nightstand. The other bed
looked brand new - fresh sheets, inviting pillows, and the softest looking blanket Jimin had ever
seen.

Then Jimin caught sight of the closet next to the bed and ran straight towards it. “Storage!”

“You get excited about the strangest things,” Yoongi muttered, lingering in the doorway.

“I haven’t had my own space in years. Even growing up I had to share with my brother.” Jimin
pulled open the closet doors and beamed at all the space. Then he turned to the shelves that ran
along the wall, a space obviously recently cleared for him as opposed to the rows of books lining
the other walls. He turned to Yoongi, biting his lip. “I didn’t mean to take over your room.”

Yoongi shrugged, ambling over to the other bed. “You made a good point. I should have thought of
it sooner, but… I don’t usually get much company.”

“I figured.” Jimin smiled, watching Yoongi awkwardly scratch the back of his neck. He was
ridiculously endearing like that, shuffling his feet and avoiding Jimin’s gaze, and it made Jimin
feel warm that Yoongi was opening his home to him despite obviously struggling with it. “Thank
you.”

Yoongi glanced over at him, his lips curving into a small smile.

Something deep in Jimin’s chest tugged. He didn’t look away, fascinated by the way the corners of
Yoongi’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, and then—

With a loud clatter, all the books and clothes and pens that Jimin was floating in the air crashed
down to the ground as the spell broke.

Jimin shrieked, wincing when a book landed on his foot again. He glanced around in despair,
balking at the amount of effort it would take to manually put everything away and wishing his
magic was stable enough for him to become a full witch already.

“I won’t say I told you so,” Yoongi said, amused.

Jimin glared at him.

Yoongi just chuckled and sat on the edge of his bed. “Don’t get angry with me. I’ll help.”

“You will?”

“If you tell me where you want everything, I’ll take care of the magic.”

“Really?” Jimin looked hopefully at him. “That would save so much time.”

“I know,” Yoongi answered, his lips curving into that small smile again. “So. Clothes in the closet,
I’m guessing?”
Jimin nodded, sinking down onto his own bed, and spent the rest of the afternoon directing Yoongi
on where to put his belongings.

By the end of the day, he almost felt at home.

---

That first night of being in a bed, Jimin could have cried.

Something about lying in a room of his own, with his (permanent!) belongings lining his
(permanent!) shelves and the familiarity of another witch in the room across from him, had Jimin
feeling emotional. He stretched out on the mattress, much softer than the sofabed, and curled under
the thickest, softest blanket he had ever felt in his life. The pleasant weight of magic in the air
comforted him, and the smell of their dinner lingered in the cottage, making the whole place feel
homely.

Jimin curled up in bed, ready for the best night’s sleep he’d had in years.

He was woken some time deep in the night, bleary from his dreams and sleep making his thoughts
fuzzy. The room was dark, only pale moonlight drifting in from the window providing any weak
light at all. Shadows lingered in the corners of the room.

Jimin rolled onto his back, closing his eyes again and wondering what had woken him. He was
about to drift back into sleep when he heard it - a quiet whimper.

Jimin went still.

The whimper was almost too soft to hear, but once he’d caught onto it, Jimin couldn’t stop
listening. Tiny, high-pitched cries, followed by sharp intakes of breath and low groans of pain
filled the room, impossible to ignore.

Slowly, Jimin opened his eyes and turned onto his side.

Yoongi was in his bed, buried under the covers so Jimin could only make out the lump of his
silhouette, but there was no mistaking that the noise was coming from him. As Jimin watched,
Yoongi’s shoulders shook, the sheets tangling around him as he turned in his sleep, his eyes closed,
his face stiff.

Jimin knew what a nightmare looked like. He’d helped his brother through them when he was
small, had his own fair share himself over the past few years alone. But he hadn’t ever seen one so
intense before, with Yoongi shuddering in his sleep, clearly unable to get any proper rest.

Jimin bit his lip, unsure what to do. Should he wake Yoongi? He wasn’t sure, sometimes
nightmares lingered longer if they were interrupted. And there was something resigned about
Yoongi’s features, something about the way his whimpers were so quiet that told Jimin this was
probably a regular occurrence.

Guilt stirring in his gut, Jimin turned back over and closed his eyes, deciding it wasn’t his place to
interfere with something he didn’t understand. But he didn’t fall back to sleep for a long time, and
not until Yoongi’s whimpers had quietened down again.

---

The next morning, Yoongi was gone by the time Jimin woke up.
Jimin went to the bathroom and dressed himself quickly, running a brush through his stubborn
blond hair but still unable to make it lie completely flat. He gave up after a while and picked the
rune book back up, carrying it and his notes through to the kitchen where he could smell breakfast
cooking.

Yoongi was standing over the stove, dark shadows under his eyes, a book in his hand as always.
But he actually put it down for once when Jimin appeared, turning to him with a surprisingly soft
smile. “Hey. Did you sleep alright?”

Jimin blinked, recovering quickly from his surprise. “Uh. Yeah, thank you. Beds are much better
than sofas.”

“Good.” Yoongi went back to stirring the pan, and Jimin took his usual place at the table, setting
his rune book down in front of him. Before he opened it, he caught sight of a cauldron sitting over
the fireplace in the kitchen and perked up. “What are you making?”

“Stew again. I can make something else if you’re tired of it.”

“No, stew’s fine, I meant—” Jimin pointed to the cauldron.

Yoongi followed his finger and heaved a loud sigh. “Oh. That. It’s my third time making it.”

“Making what?”

“Caltru potion. Ever heard of it?”

Jimin shook his head, staring fascinated at the cauldron, which had wisps of colourful smoke
drifting up towards the ceiling. “What does it do?”

“It helps with sleep,” Yoongi explained, setting a bowl of warm stew down in front of Jimin and
taking the seat across from him. “I hate making it, it’s a pain in the ass.”

“How come?” Jimin asked, grabbing his spoon and tucking into the stew.

Yoongi groaned, stirring his own half-heartedly. “It needs to be imbibed with calm and relaxation
throughout the entire process. Which would be fine if it wasn’t so damn complex. I find it very
difficult to think sleepy thoughts while I have to chop precisely three and two-quarters of herbs and
stir seven times anticlockwise, three times clockwise, for three days straight.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It is.”

“So does the way you think and feel impact how well your magic works?” Jimin asked, curious.
He’d never heard of magic working quite like that before - elemental magic was more tied to the
world around them than the witch casting the spell.

Yoongi nodded, chewing slowly before he answered. “Energy magic draws a lot on our own
reserves. Every spell is influenced by how you feel, so one of the most important things I can teach
you is how to control your emotions.”

“How does that work? I thought energy magic was elemental?”

“It is, but mostly it’s about life.” Yoongi pursed his lips, then stole Jimin’s notebook from under
his rune book and opened it to the back, ignoring Jimin’s squawk. “Like this. Most elemental
magic takes its power from the world around us - water from the sea, as I’m sure you’re aware—”

“I grew up by the sea,” Jimin agreed, smiling.

Yoongi wrinkled his nose. “Poor you. Anyway - unlike the other elements, energy magic is more
ancient. It draws on primal sources to fuel the spells, and the most primal source of all magic is the
witch themself.”

Jimin considered that, interested. “Isn’t that a bit dangerous? I mean, what if you’re having a bad
day, or something’s made you angry, or something?”

“Very astute. That’s one reason energy magic is so difficult, and why I’m the only one left. It’s
dangerous in the wrong hands.”

Jimin swallowed another bite of stew and straightened his back. “I’m going to learn it.”

Yoongi’s lips twitched. “You have to be calm.”

“I am the calmest person I know.”

“And patient.”

“Easy.”

Yoongi was obviously biting back a smile. “Whatever you say.”

Jimin raised a brow. “You can hardly talk. You’re the grumpiest witch I’ve ever met.”

“Watch your tongue, baby witch.”

“I’m not a baby!”

“You can’t even fly.”

“Because you stole my broomstick!”

“Confiscated,” Yoongi corrected, but he was smirking in amusement.

Jimin sniffed haughtily. “You have to give me a chance first. Can I help you with the potion?”

Yoongi pursed his lips. “It’s complicated.”

“I have to learn at some point. I’m sure I can graduate from tending to the plants now?”

“Tending to the plants is an essential job,” Yoongi pointed out. “And there’s less chance of you
blowing anything up while you’re outside.”

Jimin pouted. “But how will I learn?”

“Slowly.”

“We’re going at a snail’s pace.”

“Good.”

Jimin sighed, stabbing some rice with his chopsticks. He trusted Yoongi, trusted that he knew what
was best for Jimin in terms of learning, but he was also impatient. His magic bubbled under his
skin, itching to be used now there was a secure bond in place, and Jimin wanted to see what he was
truly capable of.

Yoongi tilted his head, contemplating Jimin, before he said, “...I suppose you can help a bit.”

Jimin dropped his chopsticks and brightened instantly. “Really?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Yoongi said sternly. “You can watch me make it. Maybe I’ll let you hold
the ladle sometimes.”

Jimin grinned, refusing to be put off. “Thank you, elder-nim! I’ll work hard!”

Yoongi just sighed, rolling his eyes and muttering something under his breath about Jimin having
far too much energy too early in the morning.

Jimin got to his feet and wandered over to the cauldron while Yoongi put the dishes away, staring
curiously at its contents. The potion was clearly only half-made, bits of grit and floating herbs still
waiting to be stirred in, but the smell was… surprisingly pleasant. Jimin breathed in, got hints of
lavender and fresh sheets and the scent of pollen in the air on a warm, summer day.

“Don’t get too close,” Yoongi warned, grabbing two stools from the other end of the kitchen and
setting them up in front of the fireplace.

“Who are we making it for?” Jimin asked. He thought back to the previous night, the way Yoongi
had been near-crying in his sleep, and swallowed. He didn’t want to make Yoongi uncomfortable
or pry into what wasn’t his business, so he was delicate as he continued. “Anyone I know.”

“Nope. It’s for a client. Jaesung will deliver it later.”

“Jaesung?”

“The raven. I’m sure you’ve seen him around.”

Jimin remembered the big black bird and shuddered. “Oh, him. I almost had a heart attack when I
saw him perched casually on your desk.”

“Ravens get a bad rep. Jaesung is great, try not to offend him.”

“O...kay.” Jimin shook his head, watching as Yoongi lifted down a large crate of ingredients from
one of the shelves, accompanied by a book with crinkled pages and stains all over the cover. He
frowned. “So we can’t use it?”

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“Not now I have a bed,” Jimin said fervently. “I meant… maybe you?”

Yoongi paused for a second, frozen in place mid-sorting through the crate by his feet. His lips
thinned, and Jimin winced, figuring he’d pried too far.

But then Yoongi straightened and began chopping up bits of what looked like parsley. “We can’t
use potions meant for clients unless there’s too much leftover for Jaesung to carry. I don’t think
that will be the case this time.”

“Oh.”

“If you ever need one making up, just let me know and I’ll do it for you.”
Jimin nodded, accepting the change of subject - he wouldn’t force Yoongi to talk about something
he clearly didn’t want to. So he brightened as best as he could. “You could always teach me how to
make them myself.”

Yoongi snorted lightly, tossing in the chopped parsley and grabbing the ladle. “Not a chance.”

“I have to learn sometime!”

“Baby steps for a baby witch, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi offered Jimin the handle. “Keep stirring while I
add more ingredients. Go slow, and remember to think peaceful thoughts, I don’t want to have to
remake this for a fourth time.”

Jimin nodded, gladly taking the ladle and counting the direction he was stirring as Yoongi told
him. The potion thickened slowly, the smell drifting off the viscous liquid becoming stronger and
more pleasant the more they worked. Every now and then, Yoongi murmured a spell under his
breath, casting charms, and every time he did so the weight of magic increased in the air, warming
the room.

Jimin’s own magic responded in kind, bubbling away under his skin with excitement at the
proximity to an elder’s spell. He had to concentrate hard to keep control.

Yoongi added a sprinkle of some sort of powder that Jimin didn’t recognise and the whole potion
turned a bold purple, more wisps of smoke wafting up from the cauldron, the crackling flames of
the fire encouraging the potion to cook. Yoongi murmured another spell, fixated on the cauldron,
and the tug of magic in the air made Jimin jolt.

Before he knew it, his own magic bubbled up inside him, overflowing so quick that he didn’t have
a chance to get a handle on it before yellow sparks shot from his fingers. He let go of the ladle with
a yelp, shaking his hands before his fingers got burnt.

Yoongi was there in a second, tossing a cloth over Jimin’s hands and muttering another quick spell.
The sparks dissipated faster than they ever had before and the rising excitement of Jimin’s magic
settled back down again, easing away the adrenaline.

Jimin swallowed, clutching the cloth around his hands. “Sorry.”

“‘S’alright,” Yoongi shrugged, taking over the stirring for a second. “Bound to happen.”

Jimin winced, his fingers still tingling. “It’s been better since we bonded. Last time this happened
was when I crashed my broomstick into your forest.”

“Hence why you no longer have a broomstick.”

Jimin sighed, disappointed. His first chance at proper magic with Yoongi, and the same old
problems resurfaced again. He was eager to get going, to prove himself to Yoongi and show that he
hadn’t made a mistake in taking him on as an apprentice, but he didn’t want to risk his magic
getting out of control again. The last thing he wanted was to risk their bond.

“Stop thinking so hard,” Yoongi said gruffly. “I can practically hear you.”

“Sorry,” Jimin muttered, turning back to the cauldron. He set the cloth in his lap and knotted his
fingers together. “Guess I’ll just watch for now.”

Yoongi was quiet for a while, concentrating on stirring, and Jimin resigned himself to watching
him perform the spells while Jimin did his best to hold onto his magic.
But then, Yoongi reached out and grabbed one of Jimin’s hands in his.

Jimin startled, surprised, but Yoongi’s grip was firm, keeping Jimin in place. Where their fingers
brushed, Jimin could feel the ancient magic running through Yoongi, calm and soothing and
nothing like the wild, untamed power of his own spells.

“Try again,” Yoongi said, passing him the ladle.

Jimin frowned, confused. “But—”

“Just try it, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin swallowed, glancing questioningly at Yoongi, but Yoongi was just watching him with those
warm dark eyes, his expression calm. His black hair was pushed back from his forehead with a
bandana today, presumably to keep his fringe out of his eyes. He looked unfairly attractive.

Jimin was losing his train of thought.

Giving his head a shake, Jimin took the ladle with the hand not holding Yoongi’s and turned back
to the potion. He took a deep, steadying breath and tried to think calming thoughts, bracing
himself, and then he started stirring.

Magic buzzed under his skin, seeking an escape, but an accompanying rush from Yoongi kept it
under control. Jimin gasped as he felt Yoongi’s magic joining with his, soothing and calming,
reducing the effects and actually allowing Jimin to think straight.

Jimin continued stirring and the potion slowly turned a pale purple, smelling delicious.

“Perfect,” Yoongi praised, giving Jimin’s fingers a quick squeeze.

“Really?”

“Mhmm. You just need a little help containing your excitement.”

Jimin flushed, not quite sure whether he was being teased. “No one’s been able to do that before.”

Yoongi hummed, raising a brow at Jimin.

“I mean - obviously I’ve never successfully bonded with an elder before,” Jimin explained, peering
into the cauldron. “But my birth coven had a few teachers who tried to help me get everything
under control. Some of it worked alright, but not like you. You made it feel easy.”

“Well.” Yoongi shuffled on his stool, awkward. “That’s my job now, right?”

“Yeah.” Jimin smiled. “Thanks. I know you didn’t want to do this, but I really do appreciate it.”

“Sure seems like it,” Yoongi snorted quietly. “Just yesterday you were yelling at me for not getting
you a bed.”

“I have a bed now, don’t I?” Jimin pointed out. “Besides, I know it’s a big adjustment for you as
well as me. I appreciate what you’re doing. So thank you.”

Yoongi was quiet for a while. When Jimin risked a glance away from the potion, he found Yoongi
staring bashfully at the floor, his free hand scratching at the back of his neck, the tiniest hint of
colour on his pale cheeks.
Embarrassed, but pleased.

Jimin bit back a smile and turned back to the potion, enjoying the feeling of Yoongi’s hand in his.
Not only was his magic much easier to control, but Yoongi’s fingers were long and his grip strong
but gentle, holding Jimin’s much smaller hand like he was something precious.

Jimin liked the feeling. He liked it a lot.

---

After that, Yoongi started letting Jimin practice his spells more and more often.

Jimin’s grasp on ancient runes was coming along quite well, so Yoongi agreed to teach him some
of the most ancient energy spells, most of which formed the basis of all energy magic, so were vital
for him to learn. Jimin was excited and keen to get started, so Yoongi gave him a list of ingredients
to buy, including a new copy of one of his ancient spellbooks that had too much damage to be
legible, and sent him down to the market.

Walking through the forest alone was a bit daunting at first, but Jimin soon settled into it. He was
sure he wasn’t imagining the trees rumbling around him, brushing their leaves against his face and
shifting their roots to clear a path for him. He felt a little like they were welcoming him.

He followed the directions Yoongi had given him, relieved that Yoongi had performed the spell to
bind Jimin to the cottage before he left. Much as Jimin liked the forest, did not like the idea of
being trapped out here all day.

Soon enough, he came to the edge of the forest where the cliff sloped down to the little valley. The
sun was still rising, painting the sky with streaks of oranges and reds, and Jimin had to stop for a
second to take in the breathtaking beauty.

He liked being out in the countryside. He’d grown up in a large city by the sea, and while he
missed it sometimes, he was really quite pleased with where he’d ended up.

As the sun continued to climb, Jimin started his descent, sliding down the cliff while trying to keep
hold of his balance. The village itself was quiet, hardly anyone out at this time, and Jimin liked it
this way - the cobblestone streets were narrow but picturesque, and he enjoyed the time to take in
his new home alone.

The apothecary was just opening when he walked down the high street to the front door. Taehyung
was in the window, turning the sign from closed to open, and he broke out into his huge, odd-
shaped smile when he caught sight of Jimin through the glass.

Jimin didn’t even have time to knock before the door was thrown open and Taehyung appeared,
bowing theatrically at Jimin’s approach. “Welcome back to our modest little shop! I was worried
we’d scared you away.”

“Not at all,” Jimin laughed, and bowed back. “Elder-nim has been keeping me busy.”

“I bet Yoongi-hyung is really strict,” Taehyung chuckled, his eyes glinting wickedly. “Or at least,
he tries to give the impression that he is.”

“He tries,” Jimin agreed, thinking back to the way Yoongi had pressed extra money into his hand
and told him to treat himself before stomping away to his office. “But I see through it.”

“I knew you would,” Taehyung said, stepping back to let Jimin into the shop. It took a second for
his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, the floating candles the only thing illuminating the cramped
aisles.

Jeongguk was standing behind the counter, yawning over the till and looking half-asleep. Jimin
grinned, approaching. “You look terrible.”

Jeongguk jumped, startled. He blinked at Jimin and let out a deep sigh. “Are you back already?”

“Haven’t seen me in five years and already sick of me,” Jimin sighed, leaning his elbows on the
counter and giving Jeongguk his sunniest smile. “Haven’t you missed me?”

“I haven’t missed the explosions,” Jeongguk answered cheekily.

“Yah! I haven’t blown up a single thing since I got here.”

“You must be really suited to energy magic,” Taehyung chimed in from his place busily restocking
a shelf. “That’s really unusual.”

“Yeah,” Jimin confessed. “I was really surprised when I used it the first time. Yoongi elder-nim
decided he couldn’t just let me go once I’d figured it out though.”

“Makes sense,” Jeongguk nodded. “Considering the overflow issues.”

Jimin frowned. “Overflow issues?”

“Yeah, you know - energy backing up if you don’t use it enough? Yoongi-hyung has problems
with it all the time.”

Jimin tilted his head, studying Jeongguk. “Really? How do you know?”

“Our elder worries about it,” Jeongguk explained. “She’s always saying Yoongi-hyung needs a
coven to help him control it. At least he has you now.”

Jimin nodded slowly, biting his inner cheek. He didn’t really know what Jeongguk was talking
about, but he did know that witches were meant to live in bonded groups so that their magic was
controlled. Yoongi being solitary for so long must have caused him problems.

Jimin remembered how Yoongi whimpered every night in his sleep and shuddered. He still hadn’t
decided what to do about that - whenever he tried to bring up sleep with Yoongi, Yoongi promptly
and neatly changed the subject, and Jimin wasn’t willing to force him to talk about something he
clearly didn’t want to.

But he was curious.

“What do you need?” Taehyung asked, popping up by Jimin’s side and making him startle so hard
he fell into the nearest display of boxes. “Did hyung give you a list?”

“Oh - yeah, actually.” Jimin fished the list out of his coat pocket, squinting at the spidery writing.
“His handwriting is terrible though.”

“Tell me about it,” Jeongguk snorted.

“I’m used to it!” Taehyung took the note and glanced through it. “I can get these together for you -
sit and chat with Gukkie for a while, he wouldn’t shut up about you last night.”

Jeongguk looked horrified. “I did not!”

“Sure,” Taehyung winked, then gave Jimin’s shoulder a pat. “He’s missed you. Please keep him
busy for a bit, I can’t deal with his complaining this early in the morning.”

Jimin snorted. “Sure thing. I know what that’s like.”

“You’re both terrible,” Jeongguk huffed, but Taehyung just laughed as he disappeared amongst the
shelves.

---

Jimin’s first month as an apprentice drifted by in no time.

Before he knew it, he’d fallen into an easy routine - breakfast with Yoongi where they discussed
any issues he was having, then tending to the plants, then Jimin would study languages while
Yoongi locked himself in his office and fulfilled client orders. Afternoons were reserved for
magical training, and subsequently were Jimin’s favourite time of day - he loved the feeling of
magic bubbling under his skin, power running through his veins, and the way Yoongi’s own spells
counteracted his own to form a perfect balance.

He was getting the hang of it, too. More and more, Yoongi allowed him to work on potions with
him, sitting in the kitchen bickering over the crackling fire. But there were other tests, too, all
designed to test his magical dexterity and see how much control he could exert now he was
bonded.

Not everything always went according to plan, but Jimin was loving the process.

“I’m not sure it’s working,” he confessed one afternoon during his second month with Yoongi. He
had his hands outstretched, focusing with an iron-clad will on the cushion piled with books he was
currently floating in the air in front of him.

“Concentrate,” Yoongi said from behind him. “You’re nearly there.”

Jimin grimaced, but held his tongue rather than arguing back. Instead, he focused on the spell he
was trying to summon, his magic slipping from his grasp whenever he tried to imagine the pile of
books disappearing from sight.

“Careful,” Yoongi murmured as magic bubbled up inside Jimin, eager to break through. He
reached out and laid a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, calming his magic with his own. “Try again.”

Jimin took a deep breath, flexing his fingers, and then tried again.

The pile of books disappeared with a mighty crack, cushion and all.

“Finally!” Jimin cheered, enjoying the rush of magic the tingled pleasantly through him as the
spell sealed. “I was sure that wasn’t going to work.”

“Shouldn’t doubt yourself,” Yoongi said, letting go of him to inspect the last remnants of magic
lingering in the air. “Shouldn’t doubt me, either.”

“Noted, hyung.” Jimin stretched, glad that Yoongi had allowed him to switch to more familiar
honorifics as they got to know each other. Despite Yoongi’s acerbic nature, he was an excellent
teacher, and Jimin could still hardly believe his luck. Five long years of waiting were almost worth
it to find an elder that matched him so well.

Jimin settled back onto the balls of his feet, about to ask if he could try another spell, when a
searing pain suddenly shot through his head. Jimin yelped, doubling over and clutching at his hair
as white-hot sparks burned his scalp, his head feeling like it was going to burst.

“Jimin-ah?” Yoongi was there in a second, his cool hands laying on Jimin’s shoulders. The touch
of his ancient magic was soothing, but Jimin still whimpered, clutching his head as waves of
nausea and pain washed over him.

“It’s okay, Jimin-ah - come here, follow me.” Yoongi sounded gentler than Jimin had ever heard
him. He let himself be guided, let Yoongi lead him across the room and push him down onto the
sofa, sinking into the soft cushions and groaning as his head continued to throb.

When the pain finally eased, Jimin risked blinking his eyes open and looked up to find Yoongi
crouched directly in front of him, lips pursed, expression unhappy.

Yoongi caught him looking and squeezed his hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Uh.” Jimin’s tongue felt like cotton wool. “Sore?”

“Your head?”

Jimin nodded and instantly wished he hadn’t.

Yoongi’s lips thinned, but his tone remained gentle. “Don’t try and move for a bit. Let it settle; it
will be alright in a few minutes.”

“What’s… happening?” Jimin managed to ask, blinking back the sting of tears.

Yoongi was quiet for a few seconds, clearly considering, before he slowly explained, “It’s… part
of the spell.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all - the opposite, in fact.”

Jimin frowned, wincing as his head throbbed dully. “I don’t understand.”

Yoongi let out an almost inaudible sigh, his hands loose in Jimin’s, resting in Jimin’s lap. “It’s a
quirk of energy magic. When you increase your affinity, you attract more energy, which lets you
perform more powerful spells, but sometimes you can attract too much and not all of it gets used up
in the spell.”

Jimin tried to think that through, but his head was hurting too much. “I still don’t understand.”

Yoongi’s lips twitched up a little. “Understandable. Your head must be sore.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the excess of energy,” Yoongi explained. “The overflow.”

“Oh. Taehyungie said something about that.”

“Did he?”

Jimin nodded, grimacing as his head throbbed. “What does it mean?”

Yoongi looked sad, though he was evidently trying to hide it. “It’s part of the risk of being an
energy witch. The energy we attract gets over-excited sometimes. It attaches itself to us and won’t
let go, even once the spell is completed.”

“And that’s bad, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi said solemnly. “Our bodies aren’t meant to contain that much energy. It takes a
toll.”

Jimin grimaced, trying to sit still as the sharp pain in his head slowly eased. He breathed through it,
squeezing instinctively onto Yoongi’s hands, and Yoongi let him, his presence oddly comforting.
The ripple of ancient magic that Jimin could always feel whenever he touched Yoongi settled him
further, calming the pain like a balm.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi said after a quiet moment, so low it was almost inaudible.

Jimin frowned at him, able to open his eyes again. “What?”

Yoongi swallowed tightly, avoiding Jimin’s eyes. He was kneeling between Jimin’s legs, still
holding his hands, his face pinched and his eyes melancholy. “I’m… sorry.”

“What for?”

“I was hoping the overflow wouldn’t affect you,” Yoongi murmured, finally meeting Jimin’s eyes.
“I’m used to it, I thought if I could contain it… maybe you’d be okay.”

Jimin furrowed his brows, sitting up straighter, the pain in his head almost completely gone. “How
much of it do you have to deal with?”

Yoongi lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’m used to it. You’re not.”

“But you can’t carry it all yourself,” Jimin argued.

“I manage just fine.”

“But surely sharing it between us will ease it?” Jimin asked, determined not to let this go. He’d
spent too many nights listening to Yoongi whimper across the room, and he was sure this had
something to do with it.

Yoongi pursed his lips. “Technically speaking, yes, but I’d rather not.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m used to it and you’re not.”

“That’s hardly fair.” Jimin met Yoongi’s eyes, determined. “It’ll be much easier if we share it.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I want to.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Yoongi gave Jimin’s fingers one last squeeze. “How are you feeling? Has
the pain eased?”

Jimin nodded impatiently. “Yes, but—”

“Good.” Yoongi pushed himself up to his feet and turned away. “I’d best get dinner ready.”
“Wait.” Jimin got to his feet too, swaying a bit as the last bits of energy drained from him, then
followed Yoongi into the corridor. “I’m not ending this discussion yet.”

“I am,” Yoongi said shortly, striding into the kitchen.

“I’m not,” Jimin answered, stubborn, and sat at the kitchen table while Yoongi turned on the stove
with a wave of his hand. “I know it affects you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then why don’t you sleep at night?” Jimin challenged. “I can hear you, you know?”

Yoongi froze. The spoon in his hand clattered down onto the counter.

Jimin bit his lip, trying not to feel guilty for bringing up something that Yoongi was obviously
uncomfortable talking about. Not when it was clearly important. “Is that because of the overflow?
It is, isn’t it?”

Silence held for a painfully long moment before Yoongi finally stirred. He picked up the spoon,
refusing to look at Jimin, and waved a pan onto the stove with a flick of his fingers. The rush of
magic felt annoyed, somehow.

“It can’t be good for you,” Jimin pressed. “Surely—”

“It’s fine.”

“It doesn’t look fine.”

“It’s none of your business,” Yoongi snapped.

“I think it is.”

“You’re wrong.”

“But what if I can help?” Jimin insisted.

“You can’t.”

“Have you ever tried?”

“Leave it, Park Jimin,” Yoongi said flatly, turning to send Jimin a glare so harsh his usually warm
dark eyes looked cold.

Jimin shrank back in his seat, cowed by the wave of ancient magic that rippled through the air,
vibrating in the very walls of the cottage. Frustrated, he turned back to the table, flipping open the
book on ancient rules and staring blankly at the pages while Yoongi continued to make dinner.

All the excitement of successfully performing his first spell leaked away. Jimin had a strong
constitution, but he hated making people angry, even worse someone he admired. And he did
admire Yoongi. In the month they’d spent together, he’d watched Yoongi gentle tending to his
plants, working tirelessly over potions and charms for clients in need from all over the country,
always putting other people before himself.

Jimin itched to help him. But he couldn’t force the issue; Yoongi was the elder, he was the one
who made the decisions, and even though Jimin might disagree, he had to respect that.
When Yoongi finally appeared at the table, Jimin looked up, surprised to find fried tofu and sauce
instead of the usual stew.

“You need to eat better,” Yoongi said gruffly, placing the plate in front of him before taking his
own seat opposite.

Jimin stared down at the plate, biting back a smile. The sauce smelled delicious, and he knew a
treat when he saw one - Yoongi was exactly the type to apologise through a gesture rather than
through words.

“Thank you,” Jimin said, picking up his chopsticks. “Really. It smells amazing.”

“It better. I’ve never had to buy so many groceries since you moved in.”

Jimin bit back a laugh, licking up the sauce from the end of his chopstick. “It’s a good thing.
You’re painfully skinny.”

Yoongi eyed him, raising a brow. “Excuse me?”

“Seriously, hyung, I bet you forgot to eat all the time before I got here.”

Yoongi pursed his lips and went back to his plate, artfully dodging the question.

Jimin grinned. “Thought so.”

“Eat your food, brat.”

“Whatever you say, hyung.”

---

That night, Jimin padded back from the bathroom in his pyjamas with damp hair, carrying a bundle
of clean laundry. Yoongi was sitting up in bed when he stepped into the bedroom, glasses perched
on the end of his nose, book open in front of him, as always. He had his blankets wrapped around
him in something of a cocoon.

Jimin smiled at the cosy sight, turning to his closet to start putting his clothes away. He liked
evenings the best - they felt domestic, existing in the same space as Yoongi, their routine working
around each other. Yoongi was softest at this time, too, his gentle nature surfacing behind that
acerbic wit.

Jimin frowned down at the soft robes in his pile - they were a deep grey, very soft, but he was sure
this jumper didn’t belong to him. He turned and held it up for Yoongi to see. “This yours, hyung?”

“Hm?” It took a second for Yoongi to surface, stirring in his blanket pile to look up from his book.

“This jumper. It’s yours, right? It somehow ended up in my laundry.”

Yoongi squinted at him, endearingly cute. Jimin bit his lip and clamped down on the rush of
warmth in his chest - he shouldn’t be thinking of his elder as cute, no matter how adorable
Yoongi’s little pout and button nose were.

“I think it’s yours,” Yoongi said eventually, turning back to his book.

Jimin studied the jumper. “Are you sure?”

“Well, it used to be mine, but you stole it one night when you weren’t feeling well. I figured you’d
want to keep it.”

Jimin’s lips parted, and he fingered the softness of the jumper, the memory coming back to him.
He’d caught something of a cold in one of his first weeks here, and been so miserable tucked up in
bed that Yoongi brought him soup and wrapped him up in soft things, this jumper included.

Jimin bit back a smile, clutching the jumper to his chest. “I can really keep it?”

“If you like.”

“Thanks, hyung.” Jimin beamed, folding the jumper away with the rest of his clothes. He felt eyes
on his back and turned his head to find Yoongi watching him, his book forgotten in his lap.

Yoongi’s lips were parted slightly, his eyes flitting up-and-down Jimin’s body, and Jimin shivered,
sure he wasn’t imagining the slight heat in that gaze. He straightened, preening under Yoongi’s
look, and tilted his head slightly to the side. “Something wrong, hyung?”

Yoongi shook himself, looking away quickly. “Ah. No. Nothing.”

Jimin smiled, a rush of warmth curling through his chest. “Are you sure?”

“Just go to bed, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin giggled at the way Yoongi deliberately avoided his gaze, picking his book back up, and he
was sure he caught Yoongi’s ears turning red. He decided not to tease any further, tired from a day
of magic, so he crawled into his own bed and wrapped his blankets around him, reaching for the
book of ancient runes again. He’d almost worked his way through it, and the language was starting
to make sense, much to his pleasure.

Yoongi didn’t look up from his book as he said, “Jimin-ah.”

“Mm?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Jimin paused, thrilled, but bit back his excitement. Instead, he settled into his blankets and
answered warmly, “Me too, hyung. Me too.”

---

Their routine continued after that, until Jimin couldn’t even remember what his life was like before
he came to live with Yoongi. The years of travel, of nights spent out in the elements, of constant
rejection from elder after elder, felt further away than ever before when he spent his days curled up
reading in front of a warm fire, practicing his spells with Yoongi and tending to the plants.

Jimin was allowed to help out with the potions more and more as his confidence and skills grew.
He’d soon mastered ancient runes and moved onto the middle languages, much to Yoongi’s pride.
The more spells they performed together, the more Jimin’s magic settled, soothed by the ancient
control of Yoongi’s spells.

They still had occasional problems with overflow. Occasionally, after performing a new or
complicated spell, Jimin would double over in pain for a minute or so, breathing raggedly while
Yoongi held his hand and talked him through it. Whenever this happened, Yoongi looked guilty
and would withdraw for a few hours, but whenever Jimin tried to bring it up, he’d swiftly change
the subject.

Yoongi was still having nightmares, too. Every night, without fail, Jimin would wake up in the
dark room to the sound of Yoongi’s quiet whimpering, and he hated that there was nothing he
could do about it. He’d taken to raiding Yoongi’s closet for an extra blanket, gently tucking it
around him while he cried and groaned in his sleep, and watching over him until the noises settled
back down and he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

If Yoongi had noticed anything, he hadn’t mentioned it.

Jimin was out in the garden one sunny morning, dressed in only a short-sleeved shirt and shorts,
pleased that summer had finally made an appearance. He’d been with Yoongi close to three months
now and the forest was entirely different, lush and green and full of bright, scented flowers,
humidity thick between the branches.

He murmured a growing spell, running his fingers lovingly over the herbs they had growing in a
raised bed, when movement to his right had him turning.

There, standing on the path right by the gate, stood a tiny furry creature with beady black eyes and
a long, fluffy tail. Its fur was brilliant white, its tiny paws barely audible as it scampered down the
path towards Jimin.

“Hi, little guy!” Jimin sat cross-legged on the path, watching with delight as the tiny creature flitted
closer. It didn’t seem timid at all, boldly confident as it approached until it could put its two tiny
front paws on Jimin’s knee, leaning close and sniffing him.

“You’re gorgeous,” Jimin murmured, carefully extending one hand so the little thing could sniff
his fingers. It was so tiny, he didn’t want to risk picking it up, scared of hurting it. “Where have
you come from?”

A few seconds later, a rustle sounded from the thick foliage surrounding the cottage and then
another animal appeared, its bushy ringed tail high in the air, with familiar teardrop patterns around
its eyes.

Jimin’s mouth dropped open in understanding. A red panda, which meant - if he just looked around
—

Yep. There, up high in a branch leaning over the garden, perched a proud tawny owl.

“Namjoon-hyung!” Jimin waved at the owl, then glanced down at the tiny creature that had
crawled its way onto his knee - a sugar glider. “Jin-hyung, sorry I didn’t recognise you
straightaway.”

The sugar glider turned its nose up, then gave Jimin’s fingers a lick.

The red panda scampered forward, squeezing through the gaps in the fence, and Jimin grinned.
“Hi, Hoseok-hyung.”

The red panda hunkered down beside him, looking very pleased with itself.

Jimin scratched between his ears, turning his head to yell in the direction of the cottage. “Yoongi-
hyung! We’ve got visitors!”

A few moments later, stamping footsteps could be heard, and then Yoongi appeared in the
doorway, wiping his hands on a tea towel and grumbling to himself. “Who would come here? We
don’t like visitors.”

“We like these ones,” Jimin answered, amused.

The red panda took off again as soon as he caught sight of Yoongi, barreling towards him at top
speed. Yoongi’s eyes went comically wide and he stumbled back, but Hoseok was having none of
it, pressing himself right up to Yoongi’s legs excitedly.

Yoongi heaved a heavy sigh, glancing at the sugar glider on Jimin’s knee, and then up at the owl
watching them from its place perched in the branch. Then he rubbed his forehead. “Why you can’t
just walk through the gate like normal people—”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jimin argued, laughing.

“Well, you’re gonna need human feet to come inside,” Yoongi muttered, turning on his heel and
disappearing back inside the cottage.

The tawny owl swooped gracefully down from the branch, transforming just before it landed so
that Namjoon was in his human form as his feet met the ground, dressed in his usual midnight blue
robes.

“Hi, hyung,” Jimin smiled, still sitting on the pavement.

“Jimin-ah.” Namjoon gave him his dimpled smile. “How are you doing? We thought we’d better
come and check you’re still alive.”

“I’m doing great!” Jimin beamed, nudging sugar-glider-Jin off his knee so he could get back to his
feet, hopping on one foot to wait for his ankle to regain feeling. “Come inside, we baked cookies
this morning.”

There was a flurry by the door, and then Hoseok was standing where the red panda had been,
staring open-mouthed at Jimin. “You baked cookies? With Yoongi-hyung?”

“He wanted to teach me how to use the oven,” Jimin confessed, leading them into the cottage. “He
was kinda shocked I didn’t know how to use it.”

“That is shocking,” Seokjin said primly from the path, also back in his human form. “Did we teach
you nothing while you stayed with us?”

“You couldn’t, really,” Jimin pointed out.

“Not without you blowing up our greenhouse,” Namjoon said, smirking.

Jimin laughed sheepishly, leading them into the living room. “I warned you what might happen
before you tried to bond with me.”

“I’m just glad you’ve finally found somebody.” Namjoon sank onto the long sofa that had been
Jimin’s bed for his first week, Seokjin and Hoseok quickly piling in around him. “Five years is a
long time.”

Jimin nodded, settling into his usual armchair by the fire just as Yoongi appeared from the kitchen,
five mugs of tea floating in the air before him.

“I’ve told you to give me warning before you just turn up,” Yoongi muttered, sending the mugs to
their respective owners with a casual flick of his fingers. “I don’t want to have to peer at every owl
I come across on the off chance it might be you showing up for a visit.”

Namjoon smiled his dimpled smile. “It was about time we checked up on you, hyung.”

“We were actually due last month,” Hoseok added, “but Jin-hyung hurt his paw on a thorn, so we
didn’t make it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jimin said, turning to Seokjin. “Are you better now?”

“All healed,” Seokjin hummed, holding up his palm with the tiniest mark in the middle. “I could
have managed last month, but Joonie wouldn’t let me.”

“Good,” Yoongi muttered, sipping his tea from his own armchair opposite Jimin’s. “Someone
needs to watch out for you, hyung.”

“And I need to look out for you, Yoongi-yah.”

Yoongi grimaced. “I’m fine. As always.”

“But you have an apprentice now!” Hoseok beamed, sitting forward excitedly and almost knocking
both Seokjin and Namjoon off the sofa. “How’s it going? Isn’t Jiminie a delight?”

Jimin laughed awkwardly, but Yoongi just shrugged, staring determinedly into his mug. “He’s
decent.”

“That means he really likes you,” Hoseok mouthed to Jimin, not at all subtle. “In Yoongi-speak.”

Jimin smiled, shifting in his seat and breathing in the sweet smell of his tea - Yoongi made it
himself, fresh from his herbal garden, and it had quickly become Jimin’s favourite drink. “I’m
glad. I like it here.”

“How are your lessons going?” Namjoon asked. “Have you finished with ancient runes? I have a
book I can lend you, but tell me how far you’ve come first.”

So Jimin launched into the story of the past few months, excitedly explaining how much he’d
learned and how far his magic had come. The bonding with Yoongi had been so easy, so natural,
that he hadn’t blown anything up at all since.

Yoongi added in details Jimin forgot, gently pushing him in the right direction when he got off
track. Jimin was surprised, actually, by just how much he’d picked up in three months, going from
clumsy spells and out-of-control magic to learning two new languages and advanced potion-
making, with Yoongi’s supervision of course.

“Sounds like you’re doing well,” Namjoon said, evidently impressed.

“He is,” Yoongi praised. “He’s a fast learner.”

Jimin preened. “I told you I would be.”

“I thought you were bullshitting me so that I wouldn’t kick you out.”

“I was, slightly,” Jimin admitted, making Yoongi snort. “But I meant it.”

“Thought so.”

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t kick me out?”

“You didn’t leave me with much choice,” Yoongi muttered, but Jimin knew him well enough by
now to tell that he was fighting back a smile. “Almost had a heart attack when I found you using
energy magic without training.”

“That is surprising,” Namjoon mused, studying Jimin over the tips of his fingers. “You really just
performed a spell without thinking about it?”

“I didn’t even know what I was doing,” Jimin confessed. “I was just trying to copy what I’d seen
Yoongi-hyung do in the garden.”

“Impressive.”

“And dangerous as fuck,” Yoongi added. “You’re lucky I was here to teach you.”

“I am lucky,” Jimin said, meeting Yoongi’s eyes, and Yoongi’s gaze was warm as he looked back
at him. Almost… fond. It made Jimin feel warm.

“How do you like it around here, Jimin-ah?” Seokjin asked, and Jimin jolted, pulling his eyes away
from Yoongi with effort to answer Seokjin instead. “Not too isolated for you?”

“No, not really,” Jimin replied. “I like the peace. And I can always go down to the village if I want
company.”

“Have you met Taehyungie and Jeonggukkie?”

“Yes, actually Guk and I are from the same birth coven.”

“Really?” Hoseok brightened, slinging an easy arm around Namjoon’s shoulders. “Didn’t I tell you
I thought he reminded me of someone? That explains so much!”

“We check in on them whenever we go for supplies,” Namjoon explained at Jimin’s questioning
look. “They’re good friends.”

They chatted for a while longer, and Jimin felt warm, sitting there surrounded by friends in the
warmth of a home he’d come to call his own. He felt Yoongi’s gaze lingering on him, catching his
eye every now and again, and much as Yoongi pretended to be grumpy, Jimin could tell he was
pleased, too.

They still bickered, naturally.

“Of course, if hyung let me attempt a potion on my own…”

“I quite like having a roof, thank you.”

“But how will I learn if you don’t set me free?” Jimin whined, fluttering his eyelashes in Yoongi’s
direction.

Yoongi harrumphed, setting his empty mug down on the coffee table. “You’re doing plenty as it is.
You practically made the heiroot potion all by yourself last week.”

“You still cast the last charm.”

“Again: I like having a roof.”

Jimin pouted, folding his arms and snuggling into the sofa. He was a bit chilly as evening set in,
grateful for the crackling flames beside him. “I still want to make a potion of my own.”
“One day,” Yoongi said gruffly. He flicked his fingers and one of the blankets folded neatly on the
side floated up into the air, drifting towards Yoongi.

“Thanks, hyung.” Jimin caught the blanket, wrapping himself up in it gratefully. He really
appreciated the fact that Yoongi had a different set of blankets for every room.

Namjoon was watching them both closely, his lips curving up at the corners. Hoseok looked
delighted, and even Seokjin surveyed them like a proud father.

Jimin shifted in his seat, slightly uncomfortable. Yoongi steadfastly ignored them.

“Jimin-ah,” Hoseok said suddenly, shooting up from his seat. “Didn’t you say earlier there were
cookies?”

“Oh!” Jimin brightened, getting to his feet but leaving the blanket wrapped around him. “Yes, we
made them this morning - I’ll bring them through.”

“I’ll help you!” Hoseok announced, his eyes bright.

Seokjin raised both his brows, and Jimin just heard him lean into Yoongi and murmur to him while
he led Hoseok into the corridor.

“Baking together, hm, Yoongi-yah?”

“Shut up, hyung.”

Jimin bit back a laugh at Yoongi’s typical gruff response, pushing the door to the kitchen open and
leading Hoseok inside.

Hoseok brightened instantly at the sight of the tray of cookies cooling on the counter, rushing over
before Jimin had a chance to show him. “Oh, there really are cookies! I half-thought you were
joking.”

“I take cookie making very seriously,” Jimin said, laughing. “Half of them are chocolate chip, the
other half are nuts. Hyung wouldn’t let me make them all chocolate.”

“I’m sure you could have persuaded him if you fluttered your lashes enough,” Hoseok said, casting
Jimin a sly look.

Jimin raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok said sunnily. “Just - I’m really glad he took you on. I’ve never seen him look so
happy.”

“Really?” Jimin tilted his head. “He’s still grumpy as hell most of the time.”

“It’s an act. Don’t you think?”

Jimin pursed his lips, thinking it over. He’d picked up fairly quickly that Yoongi was nowhere near
as cold as he liked to pretend, that under that sharp facade was actually someone who cared a great
deal. “I… yeah, he’s a really gentle person underneath it all.”

“Exactly,” Hoseok said, pointing a cookie at Jimin. “And he has the biggest soft spot I’ve ever
seen for you, Park Jimin.”

Jimin choked out a laugh. “I don’t think so.”

“Excuse me? Have you seen the way he looks at you?” Hoseok shook his head. “I mean, he’s
probably oblivious about it too, because he’s got the emotional capacity of a rock sometimes, but
it’s clear as day in how he treats you.”

“How he treats me?”

“Getting you a blanket when you’re cold? Knowing what you need before you reach for it
yourself? Baking cookies with you?” Hoseok pointed to the tray. “Min Yoongi has never baked
cookies in the four centuries I’ve known him.”

Jimin gaped, shocked. “...He must have felt like it this morning?”

“Did he suggest it?” Hoseok guessed. “Or did you ask, he said no, and you persisted at winding
him down until he finally gave in and said yes?”

Jimin bit his lip. “...The second one. But he’s wanted to teach me how to use the oven for ages.”

“I knew it!” Hoseok took hold of Jimin’s shoulders and levelled him with a stern look. “You have
got Yoongi-hyung wrapped around your little finger.”

Jimin could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck. He shook his head, hands flying to his
cheeks. “No, that’s - I think you must be wrong, hyung.”

“You’re oblivious.” Hoseok patted his cheek, making Jimin squawk and try to wriggle away.
“Adorable. Both of you are ridiculously hopeless, and at this rate neither of you are going to make
a move.”

“Excuse me?” Jimin choked.

“You’ll be pining forever.” Hoseok sighed, releasing Jimin in favour of staring contemplatively at
the ceiling. “It’s almost sad. You’d be perfect for each other if you worked things out.”

Jimin was struggling to breathe past the shock clogging up his throat. He knew what Hoseok was
insinuating, he wasn’t stupid, but - but it was ridiculous. As if Yoongi would ever look at him in
anything other than a platonic way - and most likely as an irritation rather than pleasant company.
Besides, romantic relationships between elders and apprentices weren’t always the best idea.

The image swam unbidden through Jimin’s mind - curled up on the sofa under blankets, but with
Yoongi beside him, both of them reading books. Himself, cuddled up against Yoongi’s chest,
Yoongi’s warm arm wrapped tight around his shoulders. Going to bed at night together, but shared
instead of on opposite sides of the room, his arms wrapped around Yoongi, Yoongi wrapped
around him…

Jimin shook his head hard, forcing the images away with a gasp. He tried to calm the racing of his
heart, the sudden flush that ran through him, warming him to his toes.

When he recovered, Hoseok was sending him a knowing look.

“I don’t think that’s right,” Jimin stammered eventually.

“I think you do,” Hoseok said lightly, squeezing Jimin’s shoulder. “I’m glad you might be realising
it, at least. Hyung might take a bit longer to figure things out, he spends too much time in his own
head.”

Jimin bit his lip, trying to calm the boiling emotions inside him. “He… he doesn’t, uh - he doesn’t
see me like that. Does he?”

Hoseok smiled at him, his eyes twinkling. “I think you’ll find that out for yourself soon enough,
Jimin-ah.”

Jimin didn’t know what to make of that, but it set his insides swirling.

“But anyway.” Hoseok turned back to the counter. “Cookies! Where do you keep your plates?”

---

When Jimin and Hoseok made it back to the living room, they found Namjoon and Yoongi in close
conversation. Namjoon had a serious expression on his face, no dimples in sight, and Yoongi
looked unhappy.

Jimin itched to comfort him.

Instead, he set the cookies down on the table, trying to catch Namjoon’s words while Seokjin and
Hoseok bickered over how many they were allowed to take.

“...isn’t settling, you need to talk to him.”

“It’s fine, Joon.” Yoongi’s voice was taught. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it.”

“Now you sound like Jiminie.”

“Well, maybe he’s right.” Namjoon sounded forceful; Jimin kept his eyes away as he lingered over
a cookie, trying to pretend he wasn’t listening. “You should let him try.”

“No.”

“But—”

“No buts. It’s too dangerous.”

After a short silence, Namjoon sighed. “You’re gonna need to try something. You can’t carry on
like this.”

“I’m fine,” Yoongi said through gritted teeth.

“Whatever you say. I just think maybe there’s a reason Jiminie came to you when he did.”

“I won’t hurt him,” Yoongi muttered, making Jimin’s heart sing. “I’m not gonna risk it.”

“Maybe you should let him choose,” Namjoon said gently.

A short silence followed, and Jimin itched to turn his head so he could see Yoongi’s expression,
but he didn’t want to risk it. He turned to head back to his armchair, but tripped over his own foot,
crashing into the coffee table and sending the cookies flying.

Thankfully, there were four full witches in the room with him. The rush of magic was almost
overwhelming, but the cookies were saved.

“Sorry,” Jimin said hastily, ducking out of the way as the cookies rained back down onto the plate.
“Tripped.”

“Hopeless,” Yoongi muttered, but his voice was fond. He directed Jimin closer. “Let me have a
look.”

Jimin obediently hopped his way over, sinking into the armchair while Yoongi knelt in front of
him. He decidedly ignored the three pairs of eyes he could feel watching them, instead
concentrating on the spell Yoongi murmured, running his hands over Jimin’s sore foot. Healing
magic ran through him, a golden glow surrounding his ankle, and the pain eased completely.

“Thanks, hyung,” Jimin smiled.

“Anytime, clumsy.” Yoongi got to his feet and stretched, and Jimin found himself staring at
Yoongi’s flat stomach, his deceptively broad chest hidden behind the soft fabrics he always wore.

A chuckle from Hoseok made Jimin jump, quickly tearing his eyes away.

Hoseok sent him a knowing grin. “Remember what I said, Jimin-ah.”

“And you remember what I said, hyung,” Namjoon said, frowning at Yoongi. “But we best be on
our way. It’s a long flight back.”

“I’ll get the cottage to drop you near your place,” Yoongi said, turning away and striding to the
window.

Jimin watched him go, his eyes lingering on the shape of his back, the curve of his neck. Damn
Hoseok for planting these thoughts in his brain.

Hoseok merely grinned at him on his way out of the door, leaving Jimin to his torment.

---

The next few weeks passed in similar fashion, and suddenly, Jimin had been Yoongi’s apprentice
for five months, and he felt like he’d never belonged anywhere else. He loved the routine they’d
found themselves in, falling in pattern with each other, making potions and tending plants and
reading together in quiet, compatible silence.

But, something had shifted. Jimin found himself staring at Yoongi for a touch too long, fascinated
by the slender curve of his neck, the broadness of his shoulders, his delicate features. When
Yoongi came in from a shower with wild wet hair and only a towel wrapped around his waist,
Jimin had to look away quickly, face flushing at the fear of being caught.

Damn Hoseok for putting ideas into his head.

Jimin wasn’t sure he was the only one, however. He’d caught Yoongi looking at him for a moment
too long, his gaze flicking over Jimin’s body almost hungrily. There was a yearning look in his
warm dark eyes sometimes, and he stayed close to Jimin, always there with a warm mug of tea or a
soft blanket or anything else that Jimin might want.

A strange sort of tension built between them, and Jimin liked it.

They bickered the same as ever, but there was softness behind their words now. Yoongi teased
Jimin as mercilessly as ever, but still took the time to teach him exactly why his runic grammar
was so bad, and Jimin would use every single one of his persuasive techniques on Yoongi, batting
his eyelashes and looking sad until Yoongi gave in to his every desire.
Jimin finally felt like he’d found a home.

Taehyung and Jeongguk were great friends, and Jimin loved going to visit them in the village, and
Hoseok, Namjoon, and Seokjin checked in regularly via the two-way mirror, and for the first time
in his life, Jimin had a steady circle of close friends to call his own.

One morning, while Jimin and Yoongi were sharing breakfast over the table, both immersed in
their own books, a tap sounded at the window. Jimin barely glanced up when Yoongi waved his
hand to open the window and the raven flew in, a letter clamped in his beak - he’d grown used to
the raven’s presence by now, no longer surprised when he turned up.

The raven dropped the letter by Yoongi and then hopped across the table to Jimin, who laughed
and started feeding him some of his leftovers.

“Don’t give him human food, you’ll make him sick,” Yoongi muttered, sliding open the envelope.

“He looks hungry.”

“There’s a bag of seed in the drawer.”

Jimin jumped up obediently, heading to the drawer with the raven flapping after him. He fed him
some seeds, admiring the glossy black feathers that seemed to absorb all the light in the room.

When the raven had eaten his fill and flown out the window again, Jimin sat back down at the
table to find Yoongi frowning at the letter.

“Another client?” Jimin asked, picking his chopsticks back up.

Yoongi nodded, pursing his lips. “Not a potion though.”

“No?”

“No, it’s more serious.” Yoongi closed his book and passed the letter to Jimin, who took it with
interest. “It’s a curse.”

Jimin drew in a sharp breath, scanning the letter which had clearly been written in haste, the
handwriting scrawled and difficult to read. “What do we do?”

“A potion won’t be enough,” Yoongi said. “Their local witch has had a look already and
determined the source is an imbalance of energy. We’ll have to go and correct it ourselves, there’s
no other way.”

Jimin’s eyes went wide. “You mean, we have to go there in person?”

Yoongi nodded. “I’d go myself, but I could actually use your help on this one. Curses are
challenging at the best of times, and this one’s taken hold for over a week already.”

“Of course.” Jimin put the letter down, flattered that Yoongi would think to take him with him and
excited at the prospect of a trip away. “When do we need to leave?”

“Today. Ideally, as soon as possible.” Yoongi was frowning at the window, his expression serious.
“We can’t leave something like this, the curse could kill her if we’re not fast enough.”

Jimin nodded, pushing away the remains of his breakfast. “Then let’s pack up and go.”

Yoongi turned back to him, his eyes gentle. “Sure you don’t mind coming along? Curses can be a
bit… hard to see.”

“I’m sure,” Jimin answered. “I saw some curses in my birth coven. If I can help, I want to come
along.”

Yoongi studied him for another minute before getting to his feet. “Better get packing, then.”

---

A little under an hour later, Jimin had piled all of his belongings into his sack, tying it neatly with a
charm of his own making. His magic was so much easier to control these days, answering him
readily and easily, and while the overflow still sometimes caused problems, Yoongi was always
there to help him through it.

“You’ll need this.” Yoongi tossed him his outdoor cloak, and Jimin caught it easily. “It’s cold
out.”

“Are we flying?” Jimin brightened at the sight of the broomstick in Yoongi’s hand.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes. “I’m flying.”

“What am I doing, then?”

“Holding on,” Yoongi said bluntly. “You’re not having your broomstick back yet, your magic is
still too unstable.”

Jimin sighed loudly, pulling his cloak on. “I was managing fine on my broomstick before you, you
know.”

“Yeah, right until you crashed into my forest.”

“That was one time,” Jimin whined, but Yoongi sent him a withering look, so he stopped arguing.

“It’s almost a full day’s ride there, so I’ve booked us two rooms at a hotel,” Yoongi said, busy
charming his own sack closed. “That alright?”

“Oh - yeah, sure.” Jimin nodded. He would miss having Yoongi’s familiar presence in the room
across from him, but he was sure he could survive one night.

“Good. Got everything?”

“Yep.”

“Come on then. Let’s get going while it’s still early.”

Jimin obediently followed Yoongi outside, shivering in the early morning chill. The balmy heat of
the summer days didn’t kick in until later on, and the forest canopy shielded them from the
unbearable heat of the sun’s direct rays.

Yoongi tied both of their sacks onto the end of his broomstick before climbing on, gesturing for
Jimin to get on behind him. Jimin bit his lip, suddenly realising exactly how close to Yoongi he
was going to have to be for them to travel safely. He swallowed, his heart kicking in his chest.

“Come on,” Yoongi said, eyes fixed on his compass. “We don’t have long.”

Jimin nodded, gathering his wits together and trying not to freak out like a highschooler about to
interact with their first crush. He stepped up behind Yoongi and swung his leg over the
broomstick, settling into place.

“Hold on,” Yoongi murmured, lifting the broomstick into the air so they hovered just above the
ground. “I’m gonna go fast.”

“Okay.” Jimin braced himself and wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s waist, trying not to lean too
much into his back, but it was difficult when Yoongi’s body was warm and inviting and right
there. Jimin had to fight back a flush, sure he was turning a very embarrassing shade, and forever
glad that Yoongi couldn’t see his face.

Then all thoughts scattered out of his brain when Yoongi drove the broomstick directly upwards at
a speed Jimin had never managed before. The ground dropped dizzily below them as they soared
into the sky, breaking through the canopy of the forest in no time and flying right up beside the
clouds.

Jimin screeched, grabbing onto Yoongi and clinging on for dear life as they rocketed through the
sky. He knew his flying needed work, but Yoongi made it look so easy, his ancient and powerful
magic propelling them effortlessly through the sky.

Yoongi chuckled, sounding breathless. “See? This is why I’m not giving you your broomstick back
yet.”

“I don’t fly like a maniac!” Jimin yelled, burying his face between Yoongi’s shoulder blades.

Yoongi just snorted, his tone teasing. “Baby witch.”

“Old man.”

Yoongi laughed again, sounding freer than ever, and Jimin found that he really liked the sound.

They flew for most of the day, Yoongi covering more ground than Jimin would have thought
possible. The wind tore at the, buffeting them, but Yoongi cast a balancing charm as well as a
protective bubble around them, sheltering them from the worst of the weather, the heat of the sun’s
rays. Jimin still wrapped his cloak around him, glad of its thick warmth. Despite the sun, the air
was cold as it whipped against them.

They descended just as evening began to fall, the sun starting its steady descent below the horizon.
The city they landed in was much more urban than their home in the forest, much more similar to
the place Jimin had grown up, full of flashing neon lights and bustling with people.

Yoongi landed them smoothly in the grounds of a hotel, which was a rising skyscraper that looked
nicer than the places Jimin had been forced to stay during his five years of travelling. He whistled
as he climbed off the broomstick, stumbling at the feeling of ground beneath his feet after hours in
the air. “You’re keeping me in finery.”

“Only the best for you,” Yoongi joked, steadying Jimin with a hand on his shoulder. “Careful, I
don’t need you injuring yourself before we’ve even got inside.”

“I resent that.” Jimin glared at Yoongi.

Yoongi merely rolled his eyes, his lips twitching up into a smirk.

They waited for Jimin to regain his balance, then both donned their pointy hats to mark them as
witches and headed up the steps to the entrance of the hotel.
Cool, refreshing air conditioner met them as soon as they stepped inside, much to Jimin’s relief. He
cooled off, fanning his face while Yoongi checked them in at the counter, half-listening to the
conversation as Yoongi seemed to get frustrated.

“There must be some mistake.”

“I’m sorry, sir - that’s what we have in our system.”

“Check again.”

The concierge smiled politely, tapping on his computer keyboard a few more times before shaking
his head. “It’s still showing as a one-room booking, I’m afraid.”

Oh. Jimin’s heart stuttered in his chest, and he edged a little closer.

Yoongi was frowning. “I definitely booked two rooms.”

“Not according to our system.”

Yoongi pursed his lips. “Can I book a second room now?”

The concierge shook his head, keeping his tense smile in place. “I’m afraid we’re fully booked. It’s
a busy night, there’s a touring show in town this week.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched. He shuffled on his feet, visibly uncomfortable.

Jimin stepped in, sidling up to the counter and giving the concierge his most winning smile.
“You’re sure you can’t find another room for us?”

The concierge smiled back at him, but shook his head. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do. We
only have the double room available for you.”

Jimin bit his lip, trying very hard not to imagine spending the whole night in bed with Yoongi.

“I’m sorry, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi muttered, glaring at the concierge. “I swear I booked two rooms.”

“It’s okay,” Jimin said slowly. “I mean - it won’t be so different to normal, right?”

Yoongi looked at him, surprised. “What?”

Jimin shuffled his feet. “Just - I mean, we share a room at home, right? We’ll just… be a bit closer
together than normal. But that’s alright, right?”

Yoongi’s lips parted. He was silent for a second, and Jimin was sure he was about to get rejected
right under the concierge’s stupid smile, but then—”

“Alright,” Yoongi said slowly.

Jimin startled. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Yoongi lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug, avoiding Jimin’s eyes. “You’re right, it won’t
be that different to normal. And it’s just one night.”

“Right, yeah,” Jimin agreed faintly, trying desperately not to imagine sleeping with Yoongi right
there beside him. “Just one night.”
“We can manage one night.”

“Sure, yeah. No problem.”

“Okay then.” Yoongi smiled at him a little uncertainly, then turned back to the desk to get their
keys.

Jimin tried not to spontaneously combust behind him.

Their room was on the seventh floor, so they entered the lift, Jimin pulling off his hat so he had
something to fiddle with. Yoongi seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, so they stayed in
comfortable silence that Jimin was too scared to break.

The hotel was definitely nicer than anywhere Jimin had stayed when he was travelling. The room
had a soft, plush carpet, a huge ensuite bathroom with a shower and a bath, and the largest, fluffiest
double bed he’d ever seen in his life.

“Okay, I’m travelling with you forever from now on,” Jimin said, dropping his bag as soon as he
entered and running his hands along the textured wallpaper. “This is fancy.”

“Glad you like it,” Yoongi hummed, laying his broomstick against the wall and stretching. “The
wallpaper is a bit much, though.”

“I like it,” Jimin said, admiring the diamond pattern. “Bright colours are nice. We need more bright
colours at home.”

“What’s wrong with our cottage?”

Jimin bit back a smile, loving how easily Yoongi referred to it as ours now. “Nothing. But we
could do with more colour.”

“You can buy a new rug when we get back,” Yoongi said, and Jimin grinned, pleased with himself.

They didn’t stay long, just dropping their bags off and grabbing their kit full of all the magical
ingredients Yoongi thought they’d need to treat the curse before heading back out to the street. The
city was bustling, the pavements crowded with people, and Jimin shrank towards Yoongi, his
magic a bit reactive to so many other people around.

Yoongi laid a reassuring hand on his elbow, and Jimin relaxed as best he could.

They followed the directions down a few side-streets into a more residential area, finally stopping
in front of a squat little house in a terraced row along a busy road. Jimin stepped forward and rang
the bell while Yoongi stood behind him, checking their kit one more time.

The woman who answered the door looked frazzled. Her hair was up in a loose bun, several strands
escaping, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She saw their pointy hats and almost started
crying with relief. “Thank goodness. Come in, come in.”

“We’re here for the curse,” Jimin said, stepping inside and slipping off his shoes, Yoongi close on
his heels. “I’m Park Jimin, and my elder is Min Yoongi.”

The woman bowed to them both before scurrying down the corridor and up a flight of stairs,
leading them to a closed door. “I’m sorry to rush you - I’d offer you something to eat or drink, you
must have had a long journey—”
“No, no,” Yoongi interrupted gently. “Time is of the essence. Where is your daughter?”

The woman swallowed, sending them an imploring look. “I hope you can help her. Please.”

“We’re going to do everything we can,” Jimin promised.

The woman nodded, gathering herself, and pulled the door open.

A foul smell immediately rolled out into the corridor, and Jimin grimaced, pressing a hand over his
nose and mouth. Yoongi’s expression was grim, and he strode forwards into the room, Jimin
trailing after him and trying not to gag.

The bedroom was not a pretty sight. The air was tight, almost oppressive, and the shadows seemed
to linger longer than usual. On the bed, propped up against pillows and looking very pale and
sickly, lay a young teenage girl, her long dark hair matted on the pillow, her eyes closed. Her skin
had a sickly, dark tint, her veins standing out black with the curse.

It was more advanced than they’d thought.

“How long since the curse took hold?” Yoongi asked, crossing to the girl’s side and taking her
hand.

“About - nine days?” The girl’s mother hovered in the doorway, her eyes glued to Yoongi. “Tell
me you can help her, please.”

“When did she lose consciousness?”

“Late last night, I think. I found her like this this morning.”

Yoongi nodded, his lips a thin line. “The bag, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin rushed to Yoongi’s side, dropping to the floor and opening their kit. He put together the
herbs he knew Yoongi would need, mixing them into a paste while Yoongi examined the girl. The
pulse of dark magic lingering in the air made Jimin’s skin crawl.

They worked quickly, Jimin passing Yoongi whatever ingredient he needed while he held the
girl’s hand and worked his magic. The ancient power of Yoongi’s spell built gradually, warming
the room until Jimin’s hair was standing on end, combatting the oppressive darkness of the curse
that filled the room.

Yoongi murmured several different spells, most of them in languages that Jimin still didn’t know,
the golden glow of energy magic seeping from his skin until it surrounded the girl in a halo of soft
light. She stirred, moaning lightly, but Yoongi shushed her, stroking her palm with his long fingers.

“We’ll help you. Don’t worry. You’ll be all better soon.”

Jimin tried not to get distracted by the amazing power of Yoongi’s magic as he focused on mixing
the right herbs together for the spells Yoongi needed. He’d never seen Yoongi use his full capacity
before, and it was clear just how ancient he was from the sheet power of the magic that filled the
room. Jimin’s own magic bubbled up inside him, eager to join in, but he kept it under control and
focused on his work.

As the evening drew on, slowly turning into night, they worked tirelessly, but still the curse
lingered. Jimin was just beginning to question whether even Yoongi’s magic had met its match
when Yoongi turned to him, his dark eyes serious, and held out a hand.
Jimin jumped to his feet, startled. “You want me to—”

“If it’s alright,” Yoongi said lowly. “I think this is going to need both of us.”

Jimin nodded, taking Yoongi’s hand and summoning his own magic. They’d performed enough
spells together by now that Jimin knew what to do, funneling his own power towards Yoongi’s
spell, their magic joining together seamlessly. Their bond tingled under his skin, sparks flying from
their joined hands.

The golden glow surrounding the girl swelled. The shadows in the room retreated, even the
darkness in the girl’s veins receding as the curse finally began to dissipate under the joined power
of Yoongi and Jimin. Jimin focused harder than he ever had before, drawing and drawing on his
magic to add his power to Yoongi’s, desperate to keep the spell going.

Just a little more - they were so close…

Yoongi tightened his grip on Jimin’s hand and, with a final powerful glow of golden magic, the
curse finally broke. Darkness dissipated like a haze lifted from the room, light flooding in from
Jimin and Yoongi’s joined hands. The girl’s body was lifted from the bed for a moment as the
curse poured out of her, staining the air black until even that was gone and she fell back onto the
bed, her skin still pale, but the awful black of her veins disappeared.

Jimin sagged against Yoongi in relief.

Yoongi caught him easily, supporting his weight, while the girl’s mother clapped her hands and
cried out in relief, rushing straight to her daughter’s side.

The girl in the bed stirred, moaning. She blinked her eyes open with obvious effort, her hair a
tangled mess, her limbs stiff and obviously sore.

“Hyejinie? Hyejinie? Are you there?” Her mother shook her shoulders, and the girl groaned,
closing her eyes again.

“She’ll need to rest,” Yoongi said, his voice rougher than usual. “But the curse is gone. She’ll be
absolutely fine after a few days.”

The mother turned to face them both, teary-eyed. “She’s cured?”

“Yes. But she’ll need strict rest for the next week at least, and she must take care not to encounter
dark magic for a while. Her immunity is compromised.” Yoongi sounded tired to Jimin, but the
mother clapped her hands, rushing around the bed to wrap them both in a tight hug.

Jimin hugged her back, relieved even though he was swaying on his feet from such a long,
powerful spell. Yoongi patted her shoulder, obviously awkward, and Jimin bit back a laugh.

“Send for us right away if she worsens,” Yoongi said once the woman finally let them go. “I don’t
anticipate you’ll need us again, but don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any concerns.”

“Thank you.” The woman wiped at her eyes, then dipped into a full 90-degree bow, lowering her
eyes respectfully. “You saved her when I thought all hope was lost. Thank you.”

Yoongi looked gruff, scratching the back of his head, so Jimin gently waved the woman up and
bowed his own head to her. “Thank you for sending for us. I hope your daughter makes a full
recovery.”
The woman thanked them again, and refused to let them leave without pressing a gratitude basket
into their hands. Jimin took it so that they could finally leave, dead on his feet with exhaustion as
the intensity of the spell began to take its toll. He felt like he could sleep for a week.

Yoongi was more reticent than normal, his brow pinched and his voice slightly strained. Jimin
knew him well enough to tell that he must be feeling the after-effects too.

They stepped out into the cold street hand-in-hand, drawing from each other’s energy. Jimin was
too tired to worry about personal space, laying his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder as they worked so he
could prop himself up, forcing his eyes to remain open.

“I’m not a leaning pole, you know,” Yoongi grumbled good-naturedly.

“Just making sure I don’t end up on the pavement. I feel like my knees could give out any minute.”

“Please don’t. I’ve done enough saving for one day.”

Jimin giggled tiredly, resting against Yoongi as they made their way back to the hotel.

They were a few streets away when it happened.

Yoongi took a sharp breath in through his nose and suddenly pulled out of Jimin’s grip, collapsing
against the nearest building and closing his eyes.

“Hyung?” Jimin spun to face him, shocked by how pale and sweaty Yoongi’s skin looked, how he
closed his eyes and breathed in harsh pants, his chest rising-and-falling with the effort. A weird
golden glow emanated from him, pulsing in waves, and with each one Yoongi gritted his teeth,
clenching his hands into fists.

“Hyung!” Jimin was by his side in an instant, reaching out to take his hand, but Yoongi pulled
away and twisted away from him.

“Get away from me.”

“What’s happening?” Jimin hovered, feeling utterly useless as Yoongi grimaced in obvious pain,
shuddering as another wave of golden light rushed over him

“Nothing. Go… back to the… hotel.” Yoongi spoke with effort, his breath rasping in his throat.

“Don’t be an idiot. I’m not leaving you like this.” Jimin reached for Yoongi’s hand again, but
Yoongi ripped out of his grip, staggering against the wall. Jimin swallowed down his panic and
fear and wrapped an arm around Yoongi’s shoulders, relieved when he didn’t shrug him off.

“Here - sit.” Jimin eased Yoongi down to the ground until he was crouching against the wall with
his head in his hands. His pointy hat slid sideways onto the pavement, melting into the shadows of
dusk, and his hair was plastered to his forehead.

Jimin gently touched Yoongi’s forehead, worried when he found it burning hot. Another wave of
gold washed over his skin and Yoongi gasped out a swear word, knotting his hands in his hair.

“Hyung, what’s happening?” Jimin asked, trying to grab his hand again.

Yoongi snarled, clenching his hands into fists so Jimin couldn’t get a good grip, and then it
clicked.

The glow, the pain, how Yoongi wasn’t letting Jimin touch him…
“This is overflow, isn’t it?” Jimin breathed, staring at Yoongi with wide eyes. “From the spell to
break the curse.”

Yoongi gritted his teeth and didn’t answer, which was all Jimin needed.

“Right.” Jimin hovered for a second longer, thinking over the best thing to do, before he reached
for Yoongi’s hand again.

Yoongi hissed and knotted his hands in his robes.

“Hyung, let me help,” Jimin murmured. “Share it with me.”

“No,” Yoongi rasped, his voice far weaker than it should be.

“Now isn’t the time for bravery. Take my hand.”

“I said… no, Jimin-ah.”

“We don’t have time,” Jimin urged, glancing worriedly at the rapidly-darkening sky. “It’s going to
be too cold to stay outside soon. We have to get back to the room.”

“I’ll be fine in a minute,” Yoongi said, breathing harshly. “Just… give me a minute.”

“Let me take some if it,” Jimin pleaded. “Just to get us back to the hotel.”

Yoongi peeled his eyes open to glare at Jimin, and his stare managed to be intimidating even with
the pain hiding in his expression.

Jimin huffed, frustrated, but wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s shoulders to help him upright.
“Fine. But we need to get you inside, now.”

Thankfully, Yoongi didn’t argue with him. He sagged into Jimin’s side, light enough that Jimin
could support his weight easily with one arm around his shoulders and one arm on his elbow.

The walk back to the hotel was painfully slow. Every few steps, Yoongi would have to stop as
another wave of golden energy magic swamped him, ripping through him with painful clarity.
Jimin supported him as best he could, swaying on his own feet with exhaustion, but he was
determined to get Yoongi somewhere safe as soon as possible. A vulnerable witch out on the
streets at night wasn’t usually a good idea.

After ten long, painstaking minutes, Jimin finally got them through the automatic doors of the
hotel. Yoongi sagged against him, becoming heavier by the second, so Jimin threw caution to the
winds and cast a quick strength charm, giving himself the energy he needed to get Yoongi upstairs.

It was a testament to how sick Yoongi was that he didn’t berate Jimin for trying something so risky
so soon after a hugely complex spill.

The ride in the lift was painfully long, Jimin just trying to keep Yoongi from collapsing until he
could get him into their bed. A few other guests came in and out on other floors, but one look at
Jimin’s taught face and Yoongi’s pale, sickly stare was enough for them to keep their distance.

They arrived at the seventh floor finally, and Jimin wasted no time, half-carrying Yoongi to their
room and swiping the key card to let them in. Yoongi had stopped talking in the lift, his eyes
closed and breathing ragged, letting Jimin support the brunt of his weight.

Jimin dropped the kit and both their hats as soon as the door swung shut behind them. Then he
focused on Yoongi, supporting him against the wall to give his arms a break.

“Can you make it to the bed?” Jimin asked, watching Yoongi worriedly.

“In… a sec,” Yoongi murmured, but his words were slurred, almost inaudible.

“That’s a no, then.” Jimin pursed his lips, eyeing the short distance to the bed, and made a
decision. He bent down, knocking one arm behind Yoongi’s legs while supporting his shoulders
with the other, and scooped Yoongi into his arms.

Yoongi groaned, struggling weakly. “The fuck do you think… you’re doing?”

“Shut up, hyung.” Jimin carried him to the bed, slowly lowering him onto the mattress and
climbing up next to him. Yoongi closed his eyes again, clearly struggling to keep them open. His
skin was turning worryingly grey.

Gently, Jimin pushed his sweaty hair back off his forehead and winced at the heat rolling off
Yoongi’s skin. Jimin had never seen overflow as bad as this before - in the night, when Yoongi
was whimpering, sometimes his skin would glow golden, but he’d never been so out of it before.

Jimin didn’t know what to do.

“Hyung,” Jimin whispered, shaking Yoongi’s shoulder. “Hyung. What do you need?”

Yoongi’s head lolled to the side, his eyelids fluttering.

Panic gripped Jimin’s gut. He shook Yoongi again, running a hand through his hair, but Yoongi
didn’t so much as flinch. Another wave of golden glow shuddered through him, but Yoongi didn’t
open his eyes, barely even reacted other than his face contorting in pain.

Jimin swallowed down his fear as best he could, trying to think clearly. He’d never seen an
overflow as bad as this before, but it had happened to him enough times now that he knew what
helped. Too much energy magic had gathered around Yoongi, and now his body couldn’t contain
it, so what they needed to do was funnel that energy somewhere else.

When Jimin was suffering from overflow, Yoongi would take his hand and ease the excess,
sharing it between them until it returned to its natural environment in the world around them.
Surely Jimin could do the same now - surely he could take on some of the energy, before Yoongi
was overcome.

Fighting back his fear, Jimin took Yoongi’s hand, partly relieved and partly terrified that his hyung
couldn’t fight him anymore. He took a deep breath, feeling his magic bubble up eagerly under his
skin.

“I hope this works,” Jimin muttered to himself, holding Yoongi’s hand tight. “Or I’m gonna kill
you.”

Then he closed his eyes and let go of his magic.

The effect was instantaneous. The room exploded into golden light, bright as the sunrise despite
night having fallen, seeping into every nook and cranny until both Yoongi and Jimin were glowing
with it. Jimin gritted his teeth, bracing himself as wave after wave of energy rocked through him,
burning like searing pain through his insides. Yoongi whimpered, rolling towards him, and Jimin
gathered him close, refusing to let go of his hand in the power of magic and light and pure energy
that surrounded them.
He had no idea how long it lasted. It felt like an eternity passed while Jimin sat there, cradling
Yoongi against him, caught in the eye of a golden storm. Pain shuddered through him with every
wave, but it lowered in intensity as the time passed, going from almost unbearable to a light
tingling until, finally, there was nothing left.

Jimin swallowed, his throat feeling raw. He glanced down to check that the last remnants of gold
seeped into his skin, the room returning to its natural dark state aside from the fire crackling away
in the fireplace, warming the room.

Jimin felt cold. He sagged against the bed, Yoongi still curled up against his chest, breathing
rapidly as his body returned to normal. He gave Yoongi’s shoulder a small shake, but Yoongi
didn’t open his eyes, his body firm and warm against Jimin’s, oddly… comforting. His eyes were
still closed, his black hair starting to curl, his delicate features relaxed once again.

He was okay. They were both okay. The overflow had ended, and there was no more he could do.

Jimin closed his eyes, finally succumbing to the exhaustion weighing down his every limb.

---

Something cool was pressing against his forehead.

Jimin stirred, his entire body complaining as soon as he moved. He felt like he’d been whacked
repeatedly with a ton of bricks. He was lying on something wonderfully soft, wrapped in delicious
warmth, and a cool cloth pressed to his forehead soothing his pain.

With effort, Jimin blinked his eyes open.

The hotel room swam into view around him. The fire was still crackling, but it had burned low,
almost to its embers, and there was a lamp on the bedside table that had been lit. Jimin was lying in
the bed, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, and crouched on the bed to his left was…

Yoongi. Sitting up, eyes open, watching him with a worried frown creasing his forehead.

Jimin shot straight up as soon as he caught sight of him, dislodging the cloth that Yoongi had been
pressing to his forehead. “Hyung!”

“Careful,” Yoongi muttered, his voice still raspier than normal. He peered intently at Jimin, and
then Jimin became aware of Yoongi’s free hand holding his own in a tight, almost bone-crushing
grip.

“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi said again, drawing Jimin’s focus back to him. His voice was tight, his eyes
crinkled with worry. “Are you alright?”

Jimin blinked, taking in Yoongi’s words, his expression - so full of worry. He was worried about
Jimin?

“I’m fine, hyung,” Jimin answered, giving Yoongi’s fingers a reassuring squeeze.

Yoongi’s jaw clenched. “You are far from fine.”

Jimin shook his head, tightening his grip on Yoongi’s hand again. “No, I am - honestly, I’m fine.
How are you? You almost - I thought you weren’t going to wake up.”

Yoongi’s expression was carefully blank, but his eyes were burning with an intensity that Jimin
had never seen before. He was holding Jimin’s hand in an unforgiving grip, his thumb swiping
over the back of Jimin’s hand. “I was fine. You’re the one in danger.”

“You did not look fine.” Jimin coughed, his throat stinging, and he winced. Yoongi wordlessly
passed him a glass of water that Jimin gladly took, gulping down large mouthfuls until his throat
was a little soothed.

“What did you do?” Yoongi muttered, his tone almost… broken? How strange. “The fuck were
you thinking? You could have died, Jimin-ah. You could have died!”

Jimin blinked, confused, and set his glass down. “What?”

Yoongi rounded on him then, his dark eyes flashing with anger. “You’re so fucking reckless. Do
you have any idea how dangerous what you just did was? You could have drained yourself dry,
you could have lost all your magical ability from channeling that much raw energy - what the fuck
were you thinking?”

Jimin stared at Yoongi, his mouth falling open. “...What?”

“Energy magic is no joke,” Yoongi growled, squeezing Jimin’s hand so tight he felt his bones
crunch. “I knew I should never have taken on an apprentice. It’s too dangerous, you could - you
could have died. I could have lost you, Jimin-ah, how dare you—”

“Wait, wait,” Jimin said, still shocked. “Back up a sec. You can die from overflow?”

Yoongi glared at him, fury written all over his face. “That was so much energy for you to channel.
Too much. Do you know what could have happened? It could have wiped you out, for good. I
could have lost you.”

Jimin shuddered, remembering the immense power of the golden glow that had clung to him and
Yoongi. “...Oh.”

“Oh?” Yoongi sounded incredulous, tone still tight with anger. “That’s all you’ve got to say for
yourself?”

“Oh, well, maybe you should have told me that!” Jimin retorted. “Or thought about that before you
tried to take on such a huge amount of energy on your own?”

Yoongi’s lips thinned. “I can handle it. You can’t.”

“How do you know,” Jimin hissed. “Have you ever actually tried sharing that burden with
someone?”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“You do it for me all the time!”

“That’s different,” Yoongi ground out through gritted teeth.

“How?” Jimin faced him, refusing to back down. “You share it with me when I get overflow, and
it helps! So why shouldn’t I do the same for you?”

Yoongi’s jaw worked, his expression impassive but his eyes telling his fury. “It’s dangero—”

“Don’t give me that crap,” Jimin seethed. “If it’s dangerous for me to do, then it’s dangerous for
you, too. But maybe, just maybe, if we share that danger, then it becomes bearable for both of us.”
“I won’t risk you,” Yoongi growled. “Not like this. Not you, Jimin-ah.”

“Why not?” Jimin could feel the anger and frustration bubbling inside him, finally letting it all out.
“I have to watch you cry every single night, hyung - every single night you’re in pain, and there’s
nothing I can do about it, because you won’t let me. Do you know how much that hurts? It tears
me apart!”

Yoongi grabbed Jimin’s other hand in his own, giving him a shake. “Aren’t you listening to
anything I say? It’s too dangerous, I will not risk losing you—”

“So why should I have to risk losing you?” Jimin cried, furious when he felt the prick of tears in
his eyes. He blinked them away rapidly, refusing to look away from Yoongi’s sharp dark glare. “I
can’t bear it, hyung - hearing you in pain, watching you suffer when I know there’s something I can
do about it, it’s awful! I can’t sleep when you’re like that, I stay awake watching over you until
you’ve settled down again and I know for sure you’re going to wake up again in the morning. Do
you have any idea how that feels?”

Yoongi’s lips parted. He stared at Jimin in astonishment.

“I hate it,” Jimin said, deflating a little after his outburst. He sniffed. “I hate seeing you like that.
And when you - in the street, when you collapsed, I - I can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch you
suffering without stepping in, when I know I’m the only one in the whole country who could help
you.”

Yoongi looked shell shocked. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out, his eyes never
leaving Jimin’s face.

Jimin glanced away, unable to hold the intensity of that stare when his chest felt so tight he was
struggling to breathe. He stared at their clasped hands instead, watching the way Yoongi’s long
fingers interlocked with his own, the pattern of their skin joined together.

“I can’t do it, hyung,” Jimin murmured finally. “I can’t. You have to let me help you.”

Silence.

Jimin closed his eyes, drawing in a shuddering breath. He leaned into Yoongi, just a little, sagging
as fatigue washed over him again. He felt spent; he had nothing more to give. He’d poured his
heart out to Yoongi, and there was nothing more he could do.

Slowly, Yoongi let go of his hands.

Jimin bit his lip, curling his fingers into his palms. He braced himself for rejection, for Yoongi to
tell him their bond was broken, he was being sent away—

But then two cool fingers were on his face, turning his chin up.

Jimin blinked away the last few tears in surprise, startled.

All the air left his lungs when he saw the way Yoongi was looking at him.

Yoongi’s eyes were soft - softer than Jimin had ever seen them before. He looked gentle,
vulnerable almost, his lips curved up into just a hint of a smile, his hair falling into his eyes,
curling slightly.

He cupped his hand around the side of Jimin’s face.

“I feel the same,” Yoongi murmured.

Jimin’s heart ricocheted in his chest.

“I can’t lose you, Jimin-ah.” Yoongi’s voice was the softest he’d ever heard it. “I can’t. Not now I
know what having you in my life is like.”

Jimin sucked in a sharp breath.

“But… I owe you an apology.” Yoongi glanced down, pursing his lips, before he met Jimin’s gaze
again. “I didn’t realise what you were thinking. I was just concerned about protecting you, but I
didn’t consider how that might affect your wants and needs.”

Jimin swallowed, heart in his mouth. “I like that you protect me, don’t get me wrong. I just - I just
need you to still be here, okay?”

Yoongi gave him a sad smile. “You’re not going to need me forever. With the progress you’re
making, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a full witch in a couple more years.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t still need you,” Jimin whispered.

Yoongi studied him, his fingers wonderfully cool against Jimin’s cheek. “What do you mean?”

“I think… I think I’m always gonna need you, hyung.” Jimin gathered his courage, feeling rubbed
raw - he didn’t have the energy to hide anymore. “I can’t imagine life without you. I don’t want to
move away after I complete my apprenticeship, I want to stay with you.”

Yoongi looked touched, but also as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “You can find
much better than me out there, Jimin-ah.”

“But I want you,” Jimin said, digging his fingers into the hem of Yoongi’s jumper. “I want you.”

Yoongi’s lips parted. His eyes were brimming with emotion, his tongue swiping out to lick his dry
lips, and Jimin couldn’t help it - leaned forward on instinct, felt Yoongi stroke his thumb across his
cheek, angling him, and then—

Then they were kissing.

It took Jimin a second to process what was happening - that the mouth against his was Yoongi’s,
teasing his lips apart, slightly dry but still somehow perfect. Jimin melted into it, his hands sliding
up Yoongi’s jumper to grip at his shoulders, pulling back just to dive in again. Yoongi’s hand
slipped from his face up into his hair, running lightly through the strands. Jimin shivered, losing
himself in the feeling of Yoongi’s lips against his, how Yoongi kissed like a starving man, like
someone who’d been deprived of human touch for centuries.

Which, if Jimin thought about it, probably wasn’t far from the truth.

They kissed until all the air ran out of Jimin’s lungs, until his chest felt tight and he couldn’t tell
where his limbs ended and Yoongi’s began, and it still somehow wasn’t enough. Yoongi turned his
head to kiss the last remnants of tears from Jimin’s cheeks, and Jimin let out a breathless chuckle,
hardly able to believe that any of this was really happening.

Yoongi, kissing him. Jimin, in Yoongi’s arms. The two of them, curled up together in a shared bed,
sharing space and time and everything.
Yoongi buried his face in Jimin’s neck, and Jimin gathered him close, one hand finding its way to
Yoongi’s wild hair.

“You can’t do that to me again,” Yoongi murmured into Jimin’s shoulder. “You can’t scare me
like that. I can’t… I really can’t lose you, Jimin-ah. Do you understand?”

“I… think so,” Jimin said slowly. He tugged Yoongi out from his shoulder so he could meet his
eyes again. “I can’t lose you either.”

“Mm.”

“We can’t lose each other.”

“Apparently not.” Yoongi’s eyes lingered on Jimin’s face, tracing every detail like he was
committing it to memory.

Jimin tried for a smile. “That means you have to share some of this with me. I can’t… I can’t watch
you suffer every night anymore.”

Yoongi’s eyes softened. “I’m used to it.”

“That makes it worse,” Jimin pouted, but Yoongi just chuckled and kissed the tip of his nose, one
hand stroking his cheek soothingly.

“I’ll… I’ll try, okay? We can try and figure this out.”

Jimin nodded fervently. “I’m an energy witch now too. You can’t stop that from happening.”

Yoongi paused for a second, considering, before he finally, finally relented. “I know. I do know
that, Jimin-ah, I just… it goes against my nature to do anything that might hurt you.”

Jimin bit back a smile. “That’s very sweet.”

“You’re very important.”

A small thrill ran through Jimin, and he struggled to contain it, pulling Yoongi close. “You’re very
important, too.”

Yoongi met Jimin’s eyes again, his expression so open and vulnerable it almost hurt to look at.
“You… really want to stay with me?”

Jimin blinked. “Huh?”

“When you’re a full witch.” Yoongi glanced away, his brows furrowing. “You… you wouldn’t
need me anymore. Do you really want to stay?”

“Of course I want to stay,” Jimin said immediately. “I love it with you, hyung. I - I don’t want to be
away from you. Not ever again, if I can help it.”

Yoongi seemed to grapple with that for a second before he seemed to come to a decision. Then he
reached out and drew Jimin against him, wrapping around him like a cocoon until Jimin was
pressed into Yoongi’s chest.

Jimin smiled, snuggling close. “Yeah. Like this.”

“I’m your elder,” Yoongi murmured, kissing the top of Jimin’s head.
“I know.”

“Does that… complicate things?”

“I don’t think so,” Jimin murmured, twisting his face up so he could meet Yoongi’s eyes. “I want
to be here with you. Plenty of apprentices stay on with their elders after - didn’t Hoseok-hyung do
that with Namjoon-hyung?”

“But this is different,” Yoongi said, brushing a hand through Jimin’s hair. “I want… I want to be
with you, Jimin. Not just as your elder. As your equal. As your… partner.”

Jimin had to bite back a happy squeal. “I mean, I kind of figured that when you kissed me.”

“Yah, brat.”

“And it’s still not weird,” Jimin said, nuzzling into Yoongi’s collarbone. “I would want you
whether you were my elder or not. I have for… a while.”

“Oh?” Yoongi hummed, interested. “Tell me more.”

Jimin grimaced. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Can’t be as bad as toppling out of the sky and crash landing in my forest.”

“Yah,” Jimin huffed, but Yoongi just chuckled and gathered him closer, holding him like he was
something precious. “I just - I want to be with you so much, hyung. You have no idea.”

Yoongi looked down at him, his lips curving up. “I have some idea.”

Jimin smiled back on reflex, without even realising.

“Will you just… hold me tonight?” Jimin asked, cuddling up to Yoongi and closing his eyes. “I’m
so tired, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Just… don’t let go.”

“I won’t,” Yoongi murmured, kissing the top of Jimin’s head. “Rest, Jimin-ah. You’ve been
through a lot. We can talk more in the morning.”

“You’ll be here when I wake?”

“Always.”

---

Yoongi had no nightmares that night. They both slept through until morning, curled up together on
top of the blankets, still in their clothes.

Neither of them would have it any other way.

---

Jimin was the first to wake in the morning.

He stirred slowly, touched by the sun rays slanting through the window, illuminating the hotel
room in a soft, hazy light that almost felt unreal. His body was stiff and sore, aching from the
magnitude of the spell they’d performed yesterday, and he was in desperate need of a shower.

He shifted, turning, and found Yoongi curled up behind him, head buried in his chest.

Jimin sucked in a sharp breath, hope slowly unfurling in his chest. Yoongi had kept his promise;
he’d stayed all night, holding Jimin close.

Did that mean… was everything else true, too?

Yoongi blinked his eyes open a few moments later, his lashes fluttering as he came back to
consciousness. He frowned at Jimin, his vision slowly coming into focus, and then he broke into a
wide, true smile - one of the widest Jimin had ever seen on him.

Jimin smiled back, running a hand through Yoongi’s hair. “Hi, hyung.”

Yoongi responded by looping his arms around Jimin’s waist and drawing him close, burying his
face in Jimin’s hair. Jimin snuggled close gladly, relishing in the sturdy warmth of Yoongi’s body
against him, reassured that Yoongi was still here, unharmed and unscathed, alive.

They lay together, basking in each other’s touch as the sun slowly rose, gifting the room more and
more light.

“I really need a shower,” Jimin murmured after a while, stretching with a wince. “Everything
hurts.”

“You need a bath,” Yoongi corrected, stroking a hand down his back and making Jimin roll closer
to him, content. “With epsom salts, and some of the healing potion. You took on far too much
yesterday.”

“Says you,” Jimin snorted.

“You did!”

“And you nearly died!”

“You’re exaggerating,” Yoongi said gruffly, burying his head in Jimin’s hair again.

“Just don’t do that again.” Jimin yawned into his fist, settling against Yoongi’s chest. “I’ll get up
in a sec and make some tea, that should help us get going. And you’re going to rest, alright? I don’t
think we should travel back today, we both need to recover from the spell yesterday.

“Where have you been for the last six-hundred years,” Yoongi murmured into Jimin’s hair.

Jimin chuckled. “Waiting for you, apparently.”

“Took you long enough.”

“You tried to turn me away the second I landed on your doorstep.”

“Crash-landed,” Yoongi corrected, chuckling at Jimin’s huff. “And I let you in eventually, didn’t
I?”

“After a lot of persuading,” Jimin grumbled.

“Mm, you’re very persuasive.”

Jimin laughed, rolling over with a final stretch and sitting up in the bed. His muscles ached as he
climbed reluctantly to his feet, but the call of the kettle was enough to get him to pad across to the
counter and hunt for two mugs to make tea.

He ended up having a warm shower, seeing as the hotel had no epsom salts and the only herbs
Yoongi had brought with them had been almost completely used up yesterday. Still, standing under
the warm water and washing the grime and dirt away from the previous day felt amazing, and
Jimin relaxed, leaning against the tiles with his eyes closed as he stood under the spray.

His lips still tingled from the feeling of Yoongi’s against his.

Jimin bit his lip, hardly believing his luck. Then he sped up washing his hair, eager to be back with
Yoongi again as soon as possible.

They spent the day lounging in their hotel room, recovering from their ordeal in their own quiet
ways. They drank tea and read books like normal, but instead of sitting on opposite sides of a table,
they curled up together on the sofa or the bed, Yoongi’s arms around Jimin’s shoulders, Jimin’s
feet in Yoongi’s lap, always touching somehow.

Late in the afternoon, the remains of their room service lunch piled on a tray, Yoongi cleared his
throat from his place sprawled across the pillows.

“Mm?” Jimin shifted, putting down his book and peering up at Yoongi from where his head was
pilowed on Yoongi’s stomach.

Yoongi was still studying his book, but he spoke anyway, his voice gruff. “When we get back, we
should push our beds together.”

“Oh?” Jimin pushed himself up on his elbows, raising a brow at Yoongi. “Should we?”

Yoongi nodded. “I want to cuddle you every night. If you have no objections.”

Jimin bit back a smile, thoroughly amused. “No complaints from me.”

“Good.” Yoongi turned a page, and Jimin settled back down again, picking his book back up.

A few seconds later, Yoongi cleared his throat again. “You know, Taehyungie and Jeonggukkie
will be full witches soon too.”

“They will,” Jimin agreed.

“They’re going to need a coven.”

“They are.”

A few seconds passed before Yoongi spoke again. “Namjoonie’s been trying to force me to join
his coven for at least three centuries now.”

Jimin really wasn’t reading his book anymore, but he kept holding it in front of his face to hide his
growing grin. “Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“How interesting.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi coughed. “I’ve always turned him down.”

“Surprise surprise.”

“Yah.” Yoongi nudged Jimin’s elbow with his knee, and Jimin laughed, putting his book down and
turning to face Yoongi again.

“What are you suggesting, hyung?”

“Nothing.” Yoongi’s ears were red and he was still hiding behind his book. “Just, you know.
Company can be nice.”

Jimin beamed. “Never thought I’d hear that from you.”

“You’re showing me the error of my ways,” Yoongi said wryly.

Jimin giggled. He crawled up the bed, flopping down right on Yoongi’s chest so he had to lift his
book up higher to keep reading. Jimin booped him on the nose, making Yoongi grimace and finally
put his book down. “What, brat?”

“Nothing,” Jimin said sunnily. “Just, I like the sound of a coven with you. And Tae and Guk. And
Namjoon-hyung and his coven.”

“Well,” Yoongi said gruffly. “Good.”

“It is,” Jimin agreed, meeting Yoongi’s eyes.

Yoongi nodded, his expression gentle and his dark eyes warm and fond. Jimin traced the shape of
his nose, curving round his cheeks to his lips, and Yoongi smiled at him, reaching up to tuck
Jimin’s hair behind his ear.

“So you’ll stay?” Yoongi asked, stroking his thumb against Jimin’s cheek.

“I’ll stay,” Jimin agreed, and kissed him.

THE END

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