#ok but fr this has been sitting in my drafts for a few days now and that's a crime

[pestisly]

What’s the most relaxing D&D race to play? I know a ton of people are big fans of tieflings, but I think I prefer a good ASMR

[littlemissheartfilia]

What’s In A Prince Ch 10

Remember I said I’d do the thing?? And I did the thing!! But it’s going to be another long while until I have time to get the next chapter going. Please be patient and thank you in advance! Enjoy the next installment of my angst ridden Royalty AU!

Part(s): [1]   [2]   [3]   [4]   [5]   [6]  [7]   [8]   [9]

Summary:  As Prince of Sabertooth Kingdom, Sting Eucliffe must choose a queen before his coronation. Easier said than done when Sting becomes overly attached to his personal knight Rogue Chenney. But when unrest slumbers in the kingdom, can the two secret lovers escape with their lives?

Pairing(s): Stingue

Setting: Old Kingdom type setting. Weisslogia is the King making Sting the Prince.

Rogue was swimming in darkness. He opened his eyes, or at least he thought he did. He searched for a way out but there was nothing. Nothing he could feel, nothing he could see. Down was a direction lost in the void. Up was a feeling he had never known. Finally something caught the corner of his eye. He turned and realized his eyelids were indeed cracked open slightly. The something he saw was growing larger, glowing brighter. Red soon filled his vision. His heart beat faster than his chest could handle and for some reason he felt his lungs burn like he was running for his life.

He cried out for help as the waking world and his dreams collided. Rogue sprung up on the bed, sweating and panting. He thought he had heard a voice crying out but as he looked around the room he realized it was deathly silent. Sting sat up in his chair, eagerly gazing at Rogue in concern, waiting for him to say something.

Rogue’s mouth felt dry and his entire body ached...but he was alive? He thought back and the only thing he could remember was being fully conscious of the fact he was giving up his life to save Sting’s. Hadn’t he? Sitting here on this bed, in pain, with Sting looking at him so worried must have been proof that they both made it out. He thought back but he couldn’t make any sense of it.

The room they now inhabited was dimly lit, even with the curtains closed he could tell the sun was setting behind them. From the over abundance of pillows and extra cushion of his bed he could tell the room was lavishly decorated. As if belonging to royalty. For a second he almost felt like he was back in Sabertooth’s Palace. Sting broke him out of his daydream when he moved to sit beside him on the bed and placed his hand on Rogue’s shoulder. His clouded eyes focused back on Sting’s face.

“Hey,” Sting said. “Are you ok? Do you need anything, water, food? I can-” Sting began rambling and was about to get up to grab something when Rogue stopped him with a hand that rested on his elbow.

He shook his head. “No. I’m fine,” said Rogue.

Sting didn’t seem relaxed but his shoulders sagged a little. He breathed out and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry.” A breathless whisper left Sting’s lips. Rogue looked at him in confusion but Sting didn’t return his stare. Instead his shoulders sunk and he turned his back. “When all of this started I just wanted to run. I wanted to escape and live another day but-God I was so stupid. I took you for granted and I-I didn’t see…” He paused just long enough to take one heaving breath and continue with tears in his eyes. “I didn’t know how important you were to me until I almost lost you.” He kept his gaze on nothing. His shoulder’s began to convulse and Rogue realized he was sobbing.

“Hey,” Rogue said, getting his attention with a forceful hand that turned Sting’s body toward Rogue. The Prince refused to look him in the eyes. “I’m still here right?”

Blue eyes shot up to gaze into red orbs. They shared a few moments of silence until Rogue brought up a bandaged arm, asking for Sting’s in return. He gladly obliged as a small smile grew on his lips. Rogue cupped Sting’s cheek and brought his head toward him until their foreheads were touching and both boys were laughing. Soon though Rogue winced in pain and clutched his stomach. He realized for the first time that it was heavily bandaged and, more than any other part on his body, it stung.

Sting jumped up and pushed a hand down on Rogue, forcing him to lay back down. “Take it easy. You just barely survived, we don’t need that wound reopening.”

As Sting propped the pillows up and smoothed the blanket he asked. “What happened?”

Suddenly the door opened to reveal a young boy, just barely a teenager wearing the finest servants clothes Rogue had ever seen. The boy had bright green hair and wide darkened eyes that grew even wider upon seeing Rogue. He was holding a tray of what looked like tea but it was soon dropped on the floor as he rushed toward the bed and threw himself over Rogue, his arms wrapping around the knight’s neck.

He winced in pain as the boy landed right on his stomach but his thoughts of pain receded when he realized just who this boy was. “Fr-Frosch?” He asked and the boy buried his head deeper into Rogue’s chest. Soon Rogue began to feel warm tears pooling on his chest. The boy didn’t move until Rogue grabbed his shoulders and forced him to stand up again. He was crying so much he could barely speak as he uselessly wiped his face.

“Fro m-missed you…” The boy spoke with a heavy accent that told Rogue he still hadn’t learned how to speak fluently. Rogue placed a hand on the back of the boy’s head and smiled at him. He let his thumb roam over the boys forehead and brush stray hairs behind his ear.

“I know...I’m sorry for leaving.”

Frosch shook his head furiously. “Rogue had to protect the Prince of a faraway kingdom. Fro knew.”

Before Rogue could speak again Sting interuptted. “Rogue?” he asked, looking at Frosch curiously. “You know this boy?”

Rogue nodded while Frosch worked on drying his tears. “I told you I was raised and trained with the assassins did I not?” Sting nodded. “This boy was too. Although he was a rather different case. Instead of being born into the assassins like I was, they found him. I must have been no older than ten when I was sent on a trainee mission to protect some very important foreign clients. When we arrived the house was already ambushed and the clients were dead. All except one,” Rogue said and placed a hand on Frosch’s shoulder to give it a squeeze.  “His mother had hidden him inside a secret dumbwaiter in the basement, he was only three. It saved his life. The only reason we found him was because he wouldn’t stop crying. I convinced the mentors to let me train him when he became old enough. Only I left to serve your father before that could happen.”

“Rogue was always kind. He was the only family Fro knew.” Frosch interjected, his tears finally ceased and a sad look grew on his face.

Suddenly Rogue’s eyebrows creased and he looked sternly into Frosch’s eyes. “Frosch...How did you find me?”

Frosch shook his head. “Rogue not been found. The Majesty Lucy brought you here on boat.”

Rogue looked between Frosch and Sting then asked. “What’s going on?”

Sting looked around sheepishly before answering, “I-well...It’s a long story.”

The short of it, as Sting had explained was that Rogue had been unconscious for four days after the collapse of the bakery in Lillington. During that time the King of Fiore declared he would support Prince Sting’s rise to power and help him reclaim his throne, in turn starting a war with King Giemma. As far as Fioren scouts could gather, King Giemma was furious and amassing an army equal to the power of the Sabertooth Kingdom’s population. Giemma, in response to Prince Sting’s claim of birthright to the throne and begun calling the Prince a traitor. He told lies to the people the it was Sting who had started the fire that killed the King. His lies justified his use of the draft and fueled the anger for the Sabertooth people to fight against their own kin.

“That’s insane!” Rogue interjected. “He’ll destroy innocent civilians by drafting them like this.”

“That’s not all,” explained Princess Heartfillia who had come in to see Rogue on Frosch’s insistence. “Sabertooth scouts are becoming more aggressive. Organizing attacks on important council buildings and churches. They’ve even gotten as far as the castle gates where one of our squadrons intercepted them and took them in for questioning. So far they’ve given us nothing. But one of them found a way to commit suicide inside his cell. The remaining one hasn’t spoken a word.”

Rogue gritted his teeth but tried to keep his face blank, Sting on the other hand gave no reign to his anger. Letting his face grow red as his fingers balled into fists and he raised his voice; “Giemma’s not holding anything back anymore. He has to be stopped!”

Princess Heartfillia nodded. “And he will be. Don’t worry, Prince Eucliffe, Fiore will not let him win.”

There was a moment of silence in which Sting looked at Rogue and said, “Yukino’s gone.”

“What do you mean ‘gone’?”

Princess Heartfillia gave them both a sad look. “When we arrived on shore she left with barely a word to either of us.”

Sting shook his head. “She looked somber but very, very determined. She told me she was looking for something but didn’t really explain much more than that. I have no idea where she went. No one has seen her since.” Rogue cast his gaze to the ground in thought. Sting caught his eye. “You’re quiet?”

Rogue took a labored breath and looked to Frosch who had hidden himself in the corner of the room since the Princess entered. “The Black Dragon Assassin’s,” he said.

The Princess looked at him puzzled. “What?”

“Frosch, Lord Rufus, me and many others were trained by them. Their supposed to serve the royal bloodlines all across the world. Yet they’ve been strangely absent ever since I left to protect Prince Sting. I thought the distance of the continents kept them out of touch...but an event like this should have brought them out into the light. If Yukino somehow found out about them...That might be who she’s looking for.”

“The Black Dragon Assassins…” Sting repeated. “Wait, my dad used to read me bedtime stories about them.”

“They’re extremely secretive, but well known, mostly in exaggerated tall tales. I was always told that kept them feared by a lot of people. So my only question is...Where are they now?” As Rogue finished he cast his gaze to Frosch who looked startled like a deer in a hunt.

Frosch looked quickly between everyone as they all looked to him. He shook his head violently then bowed before saying, “Fro can’t know anything.”

“You were still there when I left for Sabertooth,” Rogue continued gently but firmly. “You must remember something.”

Frosch bowed his head and remained quiet. Princess Heartfillia beckoned him over with a friendly hand gesture. “Frosch came to me not too long ago.” He walked over at Princess Heartfillia’s gesture and she placed a delicate hand on his back. “He was esteemed as a servant in training on his homeland. I picked him out so I could raise him as the royal family’s head servant. But when he came here he barely spoke a lick of English.”

Rogue met Frosch’s sad gaze and he finally found his words. “After Rogue’s disappearing Frosch was sent home. Black Dragons did not want him there. He was sold to his King.”

“They sold you?” Rogue asked, his forehead creasing slightly. “Like a common slave?”

Princess Heartfillia began rubbing Frosch’s back, “Frosch never mentioned the assassins before.” She addressed Frosch and said, “I assume it was for good reason.”

Frosch met her eyes and nodded. “Frosch does not like painful memories.”

“All of this only brings up a lot more questions,” said Rogue.

“Do you think,” Princess Heartfillia began. “That if we can contact these assassins they’ll help Prince Sting gain his crown back?”

“I do indeed.”

“So...assassins? We’re going to take back my crown by enlisting the help of murderers?” Sting voiced.

Rogue shook his head and smirked slightly. “They were once meant to serve the crown. I’ll admit however if the Black Dragons are in hiding we won’t be able to find them easily.”

“Perhaps my father can help?” Princess Heartfillia suggested. Sting and Rogue looked to her with eager nods.

The trio arrived in a great council room shortly after. Against Sting and Princess Heartfillia’s protests Rogue would not stay in bed. He insisted on coming with them to see the King in his council room. His injuries were sore and it took him a while to get his feet moving properly but Rogue could not sit back, not now.

Already the Fioren Palace was much different from Sabertooth’s Palace. While his recovery room had felt lavish and full of comfort, similar to Sabertooth, the rest of the palace had a harsh feeling to it. It was stone cold, yet golden with extravagant chandeliers and banners lining every hall. Princess Heartfillia carried herself around the palace so naturally, he really began to see how perfectly she fit into her crown.

Her heels clicked on the tiled floors and she stood tall as she threw open the wide council room doors. King Jude was standing, hunched over a map on the table, a crease in his brow. Princess Heartfillia addressed him with a curtsy and a, “Hello, Father.” The King immediately straightened and smiled at his daughter. He was about to speak when he glanced behind her and saw Prince Sting accompanied by his Knight. Despite the pain he still felt Rogue didn’t allow himself to slouch. He stood up straight and held the emotion out of his expression.

“Lord Rogue?” The King questioned, “Why are you out of bed?”

Rogue had to suppress a sigh. Sting chuckled and answered for him, “He insisted on coming to see you. No matter what I never can get him to rest.”

The King nodded firmly. “Well, I do hope this means you are feeling quite better. What matters did you want to speak about?”

Rogue took a step forward, ignoring the pain that ran up his leg and through his stomach, he said, “The Black Dragon Assassins.”

The King seemed taken aback but didn’t let the look linger. He turned to the map on the table, then began looking around the room as he spoke. “An interesting topic given your situation.”

“Lord Rogue and Prince Sting wish to know if the Black Dragons still serve the royal bloodline,” said Princess Heartfillia.

“To take your crown back I presume?” said the King and Sting nodded. “It’s true they served the royal bloodlines long ago but…” The King trailed off.

“But?” Sting prompted King Jude to finish his thoughts. The King looked at Sting, sighed and walked around the table to take a seat at its head. He gestured to the chairs around the table and the trio took their seats focused on the king. King Jude slightly rested his nose on his folded hands before continuing.

“I’m unclear on just what made them vanish. Many rumors say the Black Dragons were destroyed, or disbanded. Others say they split themselves up. The truth can be hard to find but you don’t get to become King for nothing.”

“Meaning?” Sting asked.

“Meaning,” Jude continued, “I have connections. And those connections can tell you more truth than they’re likely to tell me.”

Rogue looked at the King in confusion. “You are a King, sire, what would they not tell you?”

King Jude almost smiled. “Connections bring you closer to what you need to know but they don’t always tell you what that is. The Black Dragons are very secretive, even to royalty. But you, Lord Rogue-”

“Me?” Rogue asked, surprised.

“Prince Sting did say to me you were trained by them. Is that not so?”

“That is true, Your Majesty.”

“In my experience a man on the inside can gather much more intel than an outsider can. If I contact The Black Dragons they will most likely be interested.”

“Will you do that?” Sting asked, a little too loudly and a little too demanding as he rose out of his seat a little. He seemed to notice his tone of voice and straightened himself. He cleared his throat and corrected himself, “I mean, if you would, Your Majesty.”

Rogue thought he heard a chuckle escape the old King’s lips but when he looked the King’s face was stoic. “At least you have the sense to correct yourself. Of course I will. I didn’t start a war for you over nothing, son,” said King Jude as an audible sigh of relief came from Sting. “I’ll send a messenger pigeon right away and, given his track record...the assassin will be here tonight.”

The night was calm, all other noises from the castle’s servants had ceased and Sting sat pondering the inescapable stillness. An owl hooted once out the cracked palace windows. The King had warned him against opening the windows of the palace once but the room was stifling and he couldn’t bare to sit simmering in his own heated thoughts. The noise it provided also kept his mind from wandering, the cool breeze wafting towards his cheeks, chilling them nicely. Only a soft breathing and the occasional snore like a bump in the airways let him know Rogue was still alive.

The knight kept so still in his sleep Sting often wondered if he had ever moved in his life. Rogue’s eyes had grown red and the more they talked with the King the more he could tell that wound was taking its toll on him. As it was the white bandage had been blotched with red. A warm sort of fuzz began to spread in his chest as he gazed upon Rogue’s sleeping form.

He needs to rest. Sting told himself when he had an itch to push that one strand of stray black hair away from Rogue’s forehead.

Sting turned back to the book in his hands. Though reading wasn’t usually his forte he had to have something to keep him occupied while Rogue rested and they waited for a member of the Black Dragons to offer assistance. So he read the last word of the page and turned it. After forty pages he was beginning to see why Rogue and Yukino had been so smitten about this text in particular. They had both been fans of the theatrics, and this book was so dramatic and lifelike he could practically see the events playing out before him.

A few minutes of silence and he turned another page. Sting scoffed. “Saw that coming.”

“Too busy looking for worms and you’ll miss the hawk.” A voice he had never heard before spoke. Sting shot his gaze up and caught sight of a dark figure standing over Rogue’s bed, right next to the chair Sting was seated in. He let out an embarrassingly high pitched yelp while involuntarily chucking the book at the cloaked figure who deftly dodged it. In conjunction with his scream he fell backwards in the chair, hitting his head on the brick floor when he went down.

Rogue was up near instantly, sword in hand pulled from under his pillow and pointed at the room around him. Before Rogue could even process who he was threatening his voice grew worried and he said, “Sting! What-” He caught the eye of the visitor in their room. Rogue fell silent and the figure stepped forward.

“I am Dobengal.” He said, his voice muffled through a mask and quiet like the babbling stream. “The King has summoned me to you.”

Rogue stood up, putting his sword back down on the bed. “You’re from the Black Dragon Assassins?”

Dobengal nodded. Sting was still rubbing the back of his head as he mumbled, “You know you could have knocked.” Sting stood up and although the assassin had a black mask on he could have sworn he saw the corners of Dobengal’s mouth twitch upwards.

“Yes,” Dobengal replied, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“If you’re a member of the assassins-” Sting asked, getting up from the floor and taking a step toward Dobengal “-then you must know why they went into hiding.”

“You are not under clearance to know that information.” His voice turned sour as he glanced over at Sting.

“Not under clearance! Do you know who you’re talking to?” Rogue shouted gesturing wildly to Sting as he placed himself between the prince and the assassin. Sting walked up to place a hand on Rogue’s elbow, lowering it and forcing him to step down.

“It’s ok, Rogue. We don’t need to know everything. We just need to know if the Black Dragon Assassins are going to help us or not.” Sting then turned to Dobengal. “Well, will you?”

Instead of answering Dobengal turned to the window, still ajar like Sting had left it but widened from Dobengal slipping through it. “I am under orders not to converse with you,” he said, looking at Sting. “Though I will say, when your life is in danger from a tyrannical King, leaving bedroom windows open is not a bright idea.” Dobengal chuckled as he turned to the night air and seated himself like a frog on the sill. Sting was almost about to protest when Dobengal turned back to them both and continued speaking. ���Now follow me, and don’t fall behind. We’ve been expecting you for a long time, Master Rogue.”

The boys share a look of pure shock. Rogue is speechless but Sting calls after Dobengal’s shadowy form as it falls from the two story window. “Master? Back up, Master?! Since when?” he asked Rogue who just shrugged and walked to the window Dobengal had disappeared from.