#(b) you used to paint his nails! i dressed him up in my old ballet clothes all the time! he used to carry a purse around harris teeter!

[maddie-grove]

Say what you like about TikTok but it has been a positive influence on my mom re: her attitudes about therapy and gender nonconformity.

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

The Black Swan

Chapter 1

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 3731

Chapter: 1/17 (All chapters)

Summary: Prince Simon of Watford hates being a prince. He would rather be with his friends than try to learn tax policy. While adventuring in the scary woods with Penelope, Simon finds a strange boy who somehow transforms from a swan into a human when he sits on a lake. Simon immediately becomes fascinated with the boy and his mysterious existence. And as he learns more, Simon's feelings start to deepen. But when the stakes get higher, can those feelings triumph over their struggles?

Read on AO3

AN: Hello everyone, and welcome to my big bang! It's super long, I spent hours trying to fix stuff that I'm still not 100% on, and I'm very happy I actually did it. And I really do like it, I'm just way too critical of myself. I wrote this because A) I love fantasy AUs, B) I love the Swan Lake ballet, and C) I love the webcomic based on Swan Lake “The Prince and The Swan” by April Pierce which I recommend you all read it's awesome. So this an AU based off both the ballet and the comic. I'm posting the first two chapters today cause I feel like them together is a good start to the story. I'll be posting every monday and every other Thursday. 

Shoutout to my artist @bookerella who made amazing art for this fic. I’ll be linking her piece for this chapter at the end. And another shoutout as always to @carryonmylovelies because she has been my rock for the past five months through writing this fic and along with a lot of other struggles. She's the best and I love her with all my heart. And after all that, please enjoy the first two chapters of The Black Swan. Hope y'all like it :)

———————————————

Burning, everything was burning

The whole world was engulfed in flames and reeked of smoke. Simon didn’t know where he was. Only that this body wasn’t his. The arms were small, pudgy, that of a young boy. But he felt the muscles move and the skin heat up with the flames.  They licked at him but didn’t touch, bending away before contact.

“Darling, where are you?!” a woman’s voice yelled, followed by an ear piercing scream.

Simon started running immediately. He didn’t know why, just that he had to go. He ran past the creaking wood, the scorched stone, looking for where the voice was coming from. Consciously, he didn’t know who it was, but he knew he had to get to her. A burning beam nearly crushed his head, but he kept going. He needed to get to her.

“Mum!” His voice shouted. It wasn’t his though, yet it came from his mouth. Rather, it was a child’s voice, desperate and afraid. Simon could feel tears streaming down the boy’s face, created from smoke and fear.

“Where is she?” Simon asked himself from the boy’s mouth.

Another scream rang out. Simon started running again. He couldn’t see. There was too much debris and smoke and fire to find anything. But he reached her room eventually, using all his short might to force the doors open. The boy’s mum was standing right in the centre of a ring of fire. Her grey gown was in charred shreds, hair obscuring most of her soot covered face. A thick arm was wound around her neck. She was struggling to breath, from smoke and the person choking her.

“Mum!” he shouted with voice that wasn’t his again. “Stop hurting her!”

“Run,” she rasped out. The person with the thick arm looked at him. His eyes were piercing blue, filled with a killer’s rage. The boy backed up slowly. “Run!”

And so he ran. He was running as far as his little legs could carry him, ducking and weaving through the burning debris. She told him to run. So he would, he would do whatever she said. Run, run, run-

“Not so fast, brat.” The man grabbed his small fancy collar so hard he choked. His voice was smooth, confident, completely sure of his own power. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ve got other plans for you.

He tried to scream, but the man’s grip was too tight for speech. The burning world slowly turned black.

———————————————

“Simon. Simon. Simon!”

Simon jolted awake so hard his head smacked against his wooden chair. He whined as he rubbed the sore spot. King David stood over him from the other side of the desk. He had his hands on his hips, glaring at his adopted son with extreme disapprovement.

“Yes?” Simon grumbled.

“Were you sleeping when you were supposed to be studying battle techniques?” David asked in a way that meant he knew the answer.

“N-No,” the prince lied with a shaky voice. David kept glaring, and Simon sighed. “I’m just tired from studying, Father, sorry.”

David shook his head, crown shifting on his brown curls. “I’m disappointed, Simon. You’ve been the crown prince full time for a year now, you should know how to cope. I brought you here to be my heir. The least you can do is try.”

Simon picked at his nails, a nervous habit he still hadn’t broken over the years. Another thing David was disappointed in. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Words are meaningless, Simon. Do better. Now come along, we have a council meeting.”

Simon had to suppress a groan. He hated council meetings. They were always so boring. They made him really want to find the executioner so he could be put out of his misery.

He did up his embroidered tunic properly and put the gold circlet back on his head anyway. He wanted all these damn things off so bad. The circlet always got too hot and made his forehead sweat. And the formal attire was so damn itchy. Simon was never comfortable when he dressed like a prince. Even years later, he still wondered if David made a mistake, picking him to be his heir.

David pushed open the council room doors with flourish, green cloak flapping behind him. He always did it so much with flourish, always making a grand scene when he greeted the council. Penny would roll her eyes.

“All rise,” Sir Premal announced, “for his majesty, King David Owens of Watford. And for his royal highness, Crown Prince Simon Owens of Watford.”

The lords stood, hands clasped in front of them respectfully. They all look bored, as usual. Nobility weren’t allowed to enjoy themselves. Simon was pretty sure it was written in the Constitution of Watford Kingdom. Though some of their eyes flicked to Simon and narrowed. He could feel the contempt and snobbery radiating off them. He knew what some of them thought of him deep down; just a lowly orphan painted up to impersonate a prince. Simon couldn’t disagree. A lot of the time, he felt like that too.

David stood at the head with Simon right beside him on a smaller chair. Everyone’s chairs had to be smaller than David’s.

“Be seated,” the king said. All the hardwood scraped on the stone simultaneously. Simon desperately wanted to slump further, but he knew David would yell at him later. It wasn’t worth the ear ache.

The King opened his large leather bound ledger. He kept meticulous finance records. Many would say he was obsessive. And many would be correct. “Now, the tax increases have been fully implemented. Have you all of you have been collecting well?”

His tone made it incredibly clear that this was a question with specific answers. David’s questions always came with specific answers. The lords shifted minutely, the closest they’d ever come to protest, and replied with a monotone “yes” as they handed their bags of collected gold pieces. Not Lord Grimm though. He merely pushed down his burlap sack while staring straight ahead. He rarely spoke during these meetings. Simon assumed it was because David took his late wife’s throne, the same throne that was originally meant to be passed down to his late son but was now going to Simon. Simon couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t like being constantly reminded of his family’s demise either. Maybe not talking made it easier.

“Good,” David said as he checked off every province. “Any disturbances from the people?”

“No,” the speaking lords replied.

“Wonderful.” David snapped his ledger closed. “Now, there’s the matter of the old Hampshire property. It’s fallen into complete disrepair over the past few years, what with Lady Fiona moving and no one else living there. I suggest we demolish it for building materials. The new castle extension needs stone. Any protests?”

No one spoke up, because David’s cold expression told them not to. Not even Lord Grimm said anything, which Simon found surprising. Hampshire was the oldest Pitch family property. They owned it before becoming the royal family. But he said nothing. Just stared ahead with a bored expression. Simon still instinctively shied away though. Lord Malcolm Grimm always looked like a white haired pit viper, calm most of the time but definitely could kill you in an instant. But today was a good day, because Malcolm simply looked at King David, and nodded.

David nodded back. “Good. Lord Grimm, please alert Lady Pitch of this. Are there any other matters we need to discuss?” All the lords stayed silent in response. ”Very well. You’re all dimissised. Farewell, your lordships.”

“Farewell, your majesty,” the speaking lords said.

What was the point of this? Simon thought. Less than five minutes so the King could take money from the rich people and announce he was destroying a historic building. Penelope said most of these meetings were just so David could flex his power. Simon liked to believe there was something more, but he had to admit she had a point. She was usually right.

As he and Simon were exiting, Malcolm put a hand on David’s shoulder. Simon stiffened. It wasn’t appropriate to touch a king. He remembered the day David first brought him to the castle. His new father had slapped him away when he tugged on his royal sleeve. “You ask permission to touch a king, Simon. Remember that,” he’d said. Simon had always kept to that rule, along with everyone else. Yet David didn’t look upset at Lord Grimm’s discretion. His eyes justs slid over to the side.

“Excuse my boldness,” Lord Grimm said smoothly, “but I have something to discuss with you, your majesty.” His cold brown eyes shifted to Simon. Simon tried not to gulp. “In private.”

Simon looked to his father. David nodded. “Go, Simon. I give you leave for the day.”

The prince grinned ear to ear. “Really?”

“Did I not just say so? Return by supper.”

“Yes, yes, Father, I will.” Simon was already going towards the exit as he spoke.

“Close the door on your way out.” David didn’t say please, because, “kings are above politeness, Simon.”

Simon nodded. “Yes, Father.”

As he was closing the door, Simon heard snippets of their extremely hushed conversation. Malcolm looked serious, David looked unamused.

“Insult...too long...,” Malcolm muttered.

“Very well...remember...know your place,” David replied.

Simon was too excited to leave to care for stupid royal dealings. He shut the door and immediately raced down the carpeted hallway. Past the dirty high ceilings and confining stone walls. Even though this castle was only a little over a decade years old, it had the fashions of somewhere old. David wanted it to look ancient, to make it look like his royal line was just as old as the Pitches were. Penny told Simon it was about ego or power or something. Simon didn’t care. He just wanted to leave it right now.

The second he reached his room, Simon stripped off his tunic, making his circlet hit the stone with a tink. He hopped around trying to get his pants off and nearly fell face first on the floor. That would be rich, Simon thought, a crown prince with a broken nose caused by his own inability to get out of his trousers. What a great future king I am, huh David?

Simon put on his loose white shirt and filthy riding pants. He wrapped an old scarf around his head, attempting to hide his distinctive bronze curls under the grey fabric. It wouldn’t stop everyone from noticing him of course, but it would stop enough. Enough that he could get to one particular place.

As the reluctant crown prince and graduated student of The Mage School, which sat just to the north of the castle, Simon had enough practice getting from royal property to the town quickly. He used the hidden passageways, weaving through the corridors with ease, greeting every servant by name as he passed by. He ended up in the kitchen, where Cook Pritchard was already preparing for supper.

“Hello, Mrs. Pritchard,” he said, hanging over her counter. “How’s the kitchen?”

“Oh, same old, same old,” she replied. “How’s castle business?”

“Boring, of course. Say, is that a spare scone?”

The cook gave Simon an amused look. “I believe so.”

Simon grinned brightly. Ebb told him he had a smile that could persuade armies to surrender. She was always so nice. “May I please have it?”

Mrs. Pritchard sighed overdramatically as she handed the pastry over. “Only because you asked so nicely, your highness.”

“I told you, call me Simon, please. Your highness is too long.”

“I would, but his majesty insists on formal titles. He’s quite...demanding.”

“Don’t I know it,” Simon grumbled, taking an aggressive bite of the scone. “Thank you, Mrs. Pritchard. Need anything from town?”

“No, no, I’m fine. Those carrots you found last week were lovely, thank you.”

“No problem! Thanks for the scone!”

Cook Pritchard waved as Simon dashed off. “You’re welcome, your highness, have fun!”

He absolutely would. He always had fun on days like this. Simon ran out the wooden doors, over the rawbridge, and across the great lawn. Ebb was standing there with her goat herd, magically trying to rein them in. She waved with her entire arm.

“Good morrow, Simon!” she yelled. Ebb didn’t care for formalities at all.

Simon waved back. “Good morrow, Ebb! Need anything from town?”

“Oh no, I’m alright. Just say hello to Penelope for me!”

“Will do!”

Simon ran over the grass and down the dirt road. The thick brush of the Wavering Wood separated the castle from Watford Town. Most used magic to reveal a path. But Simon didn’t trust his magic, so he knew the forest like the back of his hand instead. He made it through with ease, jumping over fallen branches and across the mossy ground, emerging into the sunlight on the other side. He immediately took a deep breath, exhaling with a long sigh. Outside the stone walls and merwolf moat, he could finally breathe.

Watford Town was the biggest collection of people in the Watford Kingdom. (Both were called Watford, which made geography lessons far too confusing in Simon’s opinion.) Large, tall houses lined busy dirt streets. Stalls were filled with people shouting out prices of their wares. Everyone was bustling and talking and laughing. Soldiers stood on street corners, watching everyone move. Simon strolled past all of them with hands in his pockets. A few of them went wide eyed seeing him, but most people didn’t even notice he was there. He sighed. This town was his real home. And he missed it all the time.

Simon walked through the downtown to the slight outskirts. He knocked on a familiar red door. A few footstep sounds later, it swung open, and Simon was looking Penelope Bunce right in the eye.

“Hey Pen,” he chirped. “Ebb says hi.”

Penny smirked. “Did you have to sword fight Davy to get him let you out during the day?”

Simon grinned even more. “Nope. He just let me go.”

“Wow. Is our good ol’ King going soft in his old age?”

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” he scoffed. “Can I come in? Or has your Mum finally officially banned me?”

Penny barked a laugh and steps to the side. “Like she could stop me. Get in here, you royal bastard.”

Simon whipped off his scarf off and stepped into the Bunce house. It was big, but not as big as the castle, and it felt much smaller with two adults and four children all together. Simon didn’t mind. He preferred the cozy family feeling here to his large, empty supposed palace.

“How’s the castle been?” Penny asked. Simon groaned and flopped on one of the chairs. “That good, huh?”

Simon grunted. “Bloody nightmare. I thought David was demanding while we were in school, but now he’s got me reading even more books. I think I’m going to slice my throat on a policy manual page one of these days.”

“Oh the horror of reading. Want tea?”

“Yes please. And I’m fine with reading interesting books. But these ones have too many complicated words and not enough pictures.”

Penny sighed heavily as she boiled the kettle with her wand. “I sometimes wonder why we’re friends.”

Simon twisted his head around towards the kitchen with his sunshine smile. “Because I’m nice and charming and you love me.”

“True, untrue, and yes, I do, despite my better judgement.” Penny turned to him. She was smiling a bit, but her eyes were sad. “It’s sort of weird, y’know, not seeing you everyday at school. It’s been almost a year, and it’s still weird.”

Simon sighed. He got up from the chair and strolled over to her. He draped himself over Penny like an affectionate ragdoll, chin on her head and arms around her neck. “I miss you too, Pen.”

Penelope sighed and sunk into his arms for a second. But then struggled out of his grip as the kettle whistled. “Yeah, yeah, I miss you, you big softy. Now get off me and let me make the tea.”

“Of course, will do.” He planted a big wet kiss on her cheek before flopping back to the chair. Penny soon brought over two cups with steaming tea. She took the seat opposite him, and sighed after a long drink. Her whole body relaxed. And it looked like she needed it.

“So,” Simon said, “how’s the new job?”

Penny groaned. “Horrible. You’d think there’d be better work here for a mage, but there seems to be little good use for us outside court or in the North where Micah is. Which means I’m stuck trying to sell cooking ware to people on the street.”

“I wish I could help, Pen,” Simon sighed. “If I become king, I’ll make you and Micah court mages. And you’ll be my head advisor and court mage, promise.”

She gave Simon a strange look over her cup. “You mean ‘when you’re king’, Simon, right?”

Simon sunk into his chair. He shrugged his shoulders high and slumped down. Penny slowly put her tea down and leaned forward. “Simon, you’re the crown prince. You were specifically chosen by King David to be his heir.”

“I know,” he grumbled.

“You can’t pretend you’re not anymore.”

“I know.”

“You have to accept the responsibility of-”

“I know!”

The whole house shook slightly. The side table fell over and a crack appeared in the nearby wall. Simon was horrified, his gut twisting with guilt. He put down his cup and rubbed his face up and down. Stupid magic,he thought, never listens.

“Sorry,” he groaned. “Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper and this is your house and I’m damaging it. Sorry-”

“Hey, Simon,” Penny stepped out of her chair and stood in front of her friend. She put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I just, I hoped you would have accepted this by now.”

Simon sighed, slumping forward. “Yeah, me too. Guess not.” He ran a nervous hand through his tangled hair. “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to be a king. I barely passed my civics classes, I hate policy, I’m terrible at speaking, I can barely use this supposedly amazing magic I have. I’m never going to be like David.”

“Dear Lord, I hope not.” Simon gave Penny a weird look. “Simon, King Davy has made some good changes, but he does it with an iron fist. He just barrels through no matter what the lords or the people say. That’s not a good ruler, that’s a tyrant.”

“Don’t call him that. He’s not all bad. He took me in.”

Penelope sighed, patting him kindly. “I know. Just, don’t try to be like David, Si. Be like you.”

Simon reached up and squeezed her hand. “Okay. And you’ll be my top advisor. Or bodyguard, like Premal.”

She groaned, immediately pulling away from her friend. “Please never compare me to my brother ever again. The boy has a stick jammed so far up his arse you could mistake him for a statue.”

“Too true. He’s so still and slomen that I sometimes I run into him.”

“Please keep doing that. It might make him loosen up.”

Simon sunk further into his chair. “Hm, I’ll try.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. It still felt weird from his crown. It always did. “I don’t want to go back to the castle tonight. David’s going to make me read the geography book again.”

“Well,” Penny said playfully, “I’m not working tonight. We could go exploring the Wavering Wood, like our school days.”

“But we’ve explored all The Wavering Wood,” Simon whined. But quickly, like a lightning flash, an idea came into his wild head. He grinned mischievously. Penny instinctively leaned back.

“I don’t like that look, Simon.” She raised a cautious hand raised.

He stood up, hands on his hips in triumph. “We can explore the Forbidden Lands!”

Penny groaned. She shook her hanging head and walked towards the kitchen. As well as away from her insane friend. “I knew you would say that and I still can’t believe it,” she muttered.

“C’mon, Pen, it could be fun! We’ve been through the Wood enough. We’re old pros. This would be a new adventure!” He followed after her, practically vibrating behind her as she put away the tea blocks.

“Si, the Wavering Wood may be dense, but the Forbidden Lands are different. They’re actually treacherous. Lots of steep slopes and dangerous animals. We could get seriously hurt.”

Simon waved dismissively. “You’ve got good magic, I’ve got a sword, we’ll be fine.”

Penny gave him an unamused look over her glasses. But when Simon put on his pathetic pout, her resolve buckled. He hugged her from the behind. “Please Pen? We don’t even have to go that far in. I just want to go explore somewhere new, have some fun. Like the old days.”

She still looked unamused, but Simon pouted more, rubbing up against her hair like the affectionate puppy he sometimes was. “Please?”

Penelope stayed stoic for only a few more seconds. But soon enough she sighed, posture falling along with her resolve. “Fine,” she groaned, “we’ll go exploring.”

That made Simon, crown prince of all of Watford and most powerful mage in the land, squeal like an excited school boy. He jumped up and down while saying, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“I hope you know that if you die, it’ll be my head on a pike. So stay alive.”

“Of course! And I’ll pay you back. Get you some fancy herbs from the court mage’s cabinet.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Si.”

He hugged her tight again. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.”

Penny leaned against him. Simon put his cheek on her hair. He really did miss this. Mage’s School was tough, what with his lack of magical raising and previous poor schooling, but he met Penelope and Agatha. And for the first time in his life, he had real friends. He never thought he needed one until them. Now, he missed seeing them everyday so damn much.

Simon wanted an adventure. Like the great magical prince he thought he would be the day David took him in. Just one. That was all he needed.

———————————————

AN: If you're enjoying it so far, go to chapter 2 right here.