#prince x princess

[ieatghostsforbreakfast]

Seeing breasts on the timeline and I just feel so turned on... I want to suck on a womans breast, looking up at her while I'm called a good boy. Bonus points if she's a princess or a lady knight. Or just anything royal. You wouldn't deprive a prince of a meal, would you?

[ravenous-feast-of-love]

Am I the beautiful prince of your dreams, princess? Have you been waiting your entire life for me?

If that’s so, then let me keep you in this heavenly paradise, in this blissful dream, for eternity.

After all, you are mine, and only mine for me to protect, my sweet, sweet princess~ ♡

[redhood414]

Part 1: The Games

(Y/n POV)

In the kingdom of Metropolis everything was peaceful and quiet. It was a Sunday afternoon with the sun shining bright and a gentle breeze, birds chirping and talking. I was reading a book in the royal garden, about some forbidden love. Give me a book and I'm lost. After a good while of being deep in my book I notice footsteps and look up to see my father, Clark Kent, king of Metropolis approaching me.

"Y/n, my sweet daughter of mine. How are you today?" He asks as he sits beside me, peering with curiosity at the book I was reading. "I'm doing just fine, father, what about you?" I ask with a smile, I love my father a lot. He and mother, Lois Kent, the Queen, are the best parents I could ever wish for. No one can replace them. They've always been so kind and patient with me;even if sometimes, I am trouble.

"Likewise, my child. But I need to talk to you about something. It's important." He says with a serious tone and expression, showing that it really is no kidding what he's going to tell me next. "You can tell me, father. I'm listening." I say as I close my book and focus my eyes and attention to him. "So...you know how the kingdom of Gotham is an ally, right?" I nod. I know about Gotham, the King is there are Bruce Thomas Wayne and his wife and Queen is Selina Wayne. They have four sons: Dick Grayson, the eldest, Jason Todd, the second eldest, Tim Drake, the second youngest and Damian Wayne is the youngest and the only one who's biological. The rest is adopted. "Well. Since soon you'll be turning 18 and finally be an adult, it means you'll need to marry ...-", my eyes widen and I stand up immediately. "Father, no! I'm not going to marry one off his idiotic sons!" My father glares as those words leave my mouth. How could I say such a thing? Well I'm not lying. Most of those sons are practically imbeciles.

"Y/n! Watch your mouth and show some respect! We owe that to the Wayne family, so your hand in marriage will be great for the future. His sons will have to win a few games to win your hand. End of discussion." And by that, he gets up and leaves, leaving me with sadness, knowing my freedom will be taken soon.

(Dick Grayson POV)

Sunny Sunday! Ah what a beautiful day to see- "GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE BRAT!" My brother, Jason runs past me, chasing my youngest brother, Damian, snickering. Oh dear. I was going to say what a nice start of the day, but I take that back. It's always chaos here. The personal advisor of the king, Alfred, watches them with a sigh and a stoic expression. Tim joins us at the breakfast table soon, almost falling asleep. "Gentlemen. If I may be so straightforward I would watch your manners." Tim raises an eyebrow and I look with curiosity at Alfred. "What do you mean, Alf?" I ask and Jason smacked Damian's head as he finally catches him and sits down. "Well,", Alfred continues as he watches from the side the dinner being served. "One of you will be marrying princess Y/n of Metropolis." I choke on my food and Jason spits out his water. "I'm sorry, WHAT?!" Jason asks with a horrified expression. Damian joins the confusion. "Pennyworth, I hope you're joking. My brothers, and by that I mean especially Drake, is incapable of being that charming to win a princess over" Tim gave him a glare.

"There will be a few games you have to win to win her hand in marriage. King Clark signed a contract because he owes that much of a favor to King Bruce. King Bruce helped him in times of need and now it's time he repays our king." I was speechless. When was dad going to tell us this? What does she looks like? What's she like? Is she mean? Pretty? Kind? It got my curiosity to say the least. "What's she like and what does she look like thought?" Tim asks and Damian huffs while he mutters. "I was about to ask that."

"You'll meet her soon enough, but from what I've heard she's a kind and gentle soul, good for your...chaotic characters." Alfred says carefully and Jason rolls his eyes. "We're not chaotic." And Damian adds. "Oh yeah? You're the one all being sensitive. One comment and the castle's too small."

And there goes the arguing again...and so is my imagination flowing of what the princess looks like and what's she like. Is she really as gentle and kind as Alfred says? Or is there more behind that description of his?

[im-a-wonderling]

Lowly Soldier ~ a continuation of Sorrows Can Swim

Ugh, I have such a soft spot for Prince, and I hope y'all do too. Any and all lynch mobs formed will go towards Guard’s residence and not mine, d'you hear me? 😂

Word count: 2.7k

Sorrows Can Swim masterlist

-

A WEEK BEFORE THE WEDDING

In the dead of night, the towering shelves cast long shadows that danced and hid from the light of the few, flickering candles resting in front of Prince on his desk. In this dim lighting, if one tilted their head and relaxed their eyes, they might mistake the library ladder at Prince’s left for a monster. 

But no, the monster stood not to Prince’s left, but directly in front of him, shifting in the way only guilty men did. 

“I know about your relations with Princess.” Prince didn’t bother glancing around the library or lowering his voice. 

Guard didn’t move, but Prince could’ve sworn he paled slightly. “Your Highness, I don’t know–”

“Spare me the act of innocence.” Prince took a deep breath, reining in his anger like an unbroken stallion. 

The soldier wisely went silent, leaving the two men to stare at each other for a few moments.

“How long do I have to pack my bags then?” Guard asked, his chin held far too high for the situation. 

Prince considered it. It would be so easy to simply send him away. Prince wouldn’t have to go so far as to remove him from the King’s service. Guard could be reassigned to a different fort. Perhaps somewhere south where the high temperatures and heavy rays of sun would cause Guard to sweat like a pig and burn like a roast. The image of Guard in full uniform, wiping at his dripping and sunburnt forehead brought Prince such satisfaction.

Then came the image of Princess’s face when she learned Guard had been sent away. 

He sighed, dismissing the image. “You must act swiftly if the two of you are to avoid scandal.”

Confusion colored Guard’s face. “Sir?”

“You must–” Prince’s voice failed him, and he chided it. “You must…marry Princess.”

The soldier gaped at Prince, clearly questioning what he’d just heard. “Your Highness?”

“I won’t repeat myself,” Prince said frigidly. It’d been hard enough to say it in the first place. 

Guard stood perfectly still for a while, and Prince impatiently waited for the soldier to get his wits back so they could continue this conversation. 

“But…ho-how?” Guard stammered. “She is royalty, and I am but a lowly soldier!”

A lowly soldier, Prince scorned in his head. Guard rose through the ranks faster than most, and he caught the attention of far more than Princess, even if Princess was the only one Prince really cared about. 

“We must be crafty.” Prince took a deep breath, sitting down, the plush red velvet sinking underneath him. “I can’t simply promote you, it would look too suspicious. We will organize a way for you to receive an increase in rank. It will–”

Guard started frantically shaking his head, making Prince stop and narrow his eyes. Why was Guard protesting? He got to marry and become honorary royalty. He wouldn’t be king, not while Princess’s older brothers still drew breath, but the rank of a prince was nothing to sneer at. 

Perhaps he was simply having a hard time wrapping his mind around it.

“It will take some time, of course,” Prince continued, “which brings its own risk, but if we’re going to do this–”

“But a marriage between us would be improper!” Guard interrupted. 

Prince fixed him with a cold, hard stare. “And the impropriety didn’t cross your mind before you stole her virtue?”

“I did not steal her virtue!” Guard snapped. “She’s the one who–”

“I would recommend,” Prince interrupted calmly, “that you don’t waste my time by finishing that sentence.”

Guard shut his mouth, looking quite taken aback as he eyed Prince. 

Prince sighed. “It doesn’t matter how things progressed.” The words tasted like vinegar in his mouth, but he pushed on. “What matters is what we must do to protect everyone in this situation, and we will get started at once.” 

Guard blinked, bringing a hand to nervously fiddle with the chainmail of his soldier's uniform. 

This is it, Prince thought. This is the moment when Guard complies, and we plot for the wedding that will soon follow, a wedding I forced Guard into, a wedding Princess isn’t expecting, and a wedding that will break my heart. It would require all of Prince’s strength to sit through, and it would cost him all his self-respect, but he would do it.

For Princess, he would do it. 

But instead of hearing words of agreement, Prince saw a sudden, dangerous gleam in Guard’s eyes. “I’m sorry, You Highness, but I cannot do that.”

Prince simply stared, trying to process what he’d just heard. Was Guard disobeying a direct order? Perhaps he hadn’t understood that Prince’s statement was a command in the first place. “All due respect, this is not a request, Guard.”

Guard’s gleam didn’t dim. “All due respect, sir, but you cannot force me to marry her.” His voice was remarkably calm, as if they were discussing the weather and not the fate of a woman. 

For a moment, Prince couldn’t form any words. He could only stare at Guard, wondering how the man could be so cavalier and care so little about Princess’s reputation?

He wanted to toss Guard out the library window, but that wouldn’t save Princess.

Prince clenched onto his self-control, imposingly rising to his feet instead of rushing at Guard in fury. “Do you realize who you are speaking to?” He stepped closer to Guard, holding his posture as tightly as he held his fists. “I am your prince. I can demote you so that you are guarding a kitchen for the rest of your days. I can have you branded as a traitor and exiled. I can have you flung in the dungeon, facing execution in a week.” Prince raised his chin. “It all makes no difference to me.”

The threat in his tone would make most men concede by prostrating themselves in front of him. 

“If this kingdom finds out that the Tunican princess had affairs with a lowly soldier, the gossip will spread like wildfire,” Guard said slowly. “And if the Tunician King finds out, it will be war.” 

“You would create war for your own country?” Prince seethed.

Guard spread his hands. “This may be the country of my birth, but that doesn’t mean it’s the country of my life.” He pointed at Prince. “That’s your position.”

Prince gaped at Guard.

Had Guard gone mad? All the authority rested with Prince, and yet Guard acted as though he possessed the upper hand!

What pure selfishness.

What audacity.

Prince slammed his hands into the desk, making the candles shake and drip wax down onto the polished wood. “You dare threaten me with war?” 

Guard smiled back at Prince. “Do you know what Princess told me last night?”

Prince froze, sensing the wave of pain about to crash over him, an upper hand that was about to be gained. “That is neither here nor–”

Guard stepped closer to Prince, baring his teeth like a child who hadn’t quite mastered the art of the smile. “She told me she loved me.” 

A groan of pain nearly ripped through Prince’s throat as the knot of pain coiled tightly in his chest. He blindly fell back onto his chair, trying to relearn how to breathe under the weight of this information. 

She…she loved Guard? Truly? It wasn’t merely some youthful dalliance or fleeting fancy?

Prince looked back to Guard with a sharp inhale, realizing too late that he’d given away too much with his silence. 

“You love her.” The triumph in Guard’s voice set Prince’s teeth on edge. “You can’t bear to see her in pain, or you would’ve sent me away instead of trying to get me to marry her. If you banished me or imprisoned me, it would only hurt her, and you can’t bear to do that.”

There was no point in denying it. Unlike Guard, Prince was a man strong enough to admit to the truth. So Prince glowered at Guard. “I’m warning you–”

“No, Your Highness.” Guard smirked. “I’m warning you, unless you promise me that you won’t mention this conversation to anyone, I’ll tell the Tunician King about our affair myself.” The satisfied smile widened. “See what happens to your precious princess then.”

“You are a snake,” Prince fumed.

Guard’s only reply was to grin. 

“Fine!” Prince burst out. “I promise, now get out of my sight!”

Guard wisely didn’t reply. He simply slipped out the library door, likely off to go sleep soundly in his bed.

Now what? Prince thought desperately.

Princess was not the first royal to be in this compromising situation, but the world would see her as damaged goods if they found out. It didn’t matter if it was a year from now when the truth got out, she would be seen as damaged goods, and whatever husband she possessed would turn his back on her, for no self-respecting husband wouldn’t care if his wife dallied with a soldier. Except for Lord perhaps, but Prince couldn’t subject Princess to marriage with him. His breath smelled fouler than the stables, and he was old enough to be her grandfather. 

Whoever married Princess would have to know beforehand.

But who would ever marry her with that knowledge? And even if they didn’t care, Prince would be breaking his promise to Guard, and who knew what the soldier would do?

Prince sat at the desk, his hopes dwindling by the second.

If only status and dignity didn’t matter so much. If only the world could see Princess for her sweetness or even her beauty, and value her for those things instead of whatever station she possessed.

Alas, it seemed the only one who saw Princess’s sweetness and beauty was Prince and Guard, and Guard wouldn’t marry her.

Prince sat bolt upright.

Was that…?

Could it be…?

Prince lifted his hand to his hair. 

Was that really the solution? Marrying Princess himself?

The idea which would normally make his heart soar instead made his stomach turn over. 

He couldn’t marry her, not like this. Not as a last resort to stave off scandal and potentially war. Princess deserved better than that. Everybody deserved more than that. 

Prince leaned forward, resting his forehead on the desk. There had to be another way, a way where Guard wouldn’t win without Prince losing so badly. 

But there wasn’t. No other desperate solution in his mind was feasible in the amount of time they had left. 

Prince let out a breath. 

He couldn’t count on Princess to understand. He loved her, but she could be naive. No, Prince would conduct this himself, and it started with talking to his father. 

God help him.

A MONTH LATER

“Well, this is a sorry sight!”

Forever a light sleeper, Prince started from his horizontal position on the couch. He blinked blearily around at his study, trying to find the source of the words. For a wild moment, in the delirium of having one foot in the real world and the other in the land of dreams, he wondered if his desk had spoken to him.

Then Prince’s eyes fell on Brother, standing in the open doorway with folded arms. 

Prince glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. “It’s six o’clock in the morning,” he grumbled, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes. 

“Yes, and you’re sleeping on a couch in your study alone instead of in your bed with your wife.”

Prince didn’t bother to answer the question asked by his younger brother’s tone. Yes, he didn’t sleep in their bedchamber anymore, but that didn’t mean he had to explain himself, certainly not to Brother, who had yet to be married. 

Brother swept towards Prince’s desk, ignoring the neatly ordered papers as he jumped up to take a seat on top of them. “Your wife says she hasn’t seen you for days. Is there a declaration of war I don’t know about?”

Prince almost bit back, not appreciating the dig. Yes, Prince had assumed the Tunican party had nefarious intent, and yes, it turned out to be a company of soldiers containing Princess’s dowry. But in Prince’s opinion, it was better to be overly cautious than taken unawares.

Getting to his feet, Prince shoved at his brother. “Get off your porcine behind.”

“It’s a royal behind to you.” Brother hopped off the desk to recline lazily on the sofa on which Prince had just woken from. 

“If you’re in the mood to pry,” Prince said bluntly, “go down to the launderers to hear the gossip. I’m busy.”

Brother sat forward, the usual merriment gone from his face. “Why are you avoiding Princess?”

Prince grit his teeth. He’d promised himself that he would only return to the scene of Princess’s encounter with Guard when he was sure he could control his temper. 

As of yet, his temper hadn’t dissipated. 

So he avoided it altogether—which meant he avoided her altogether. 

“What happened?” Brother asked, dropping his voice even though they were the only two in the room. “Did the two of you have a fight?”

Prince shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”

“If you can’t tell your own brother, who can you tell?” 

“I won’t be telling anyone anything.”

“Maybe not, but that only makes it worse for you.”

Prince wanted to scream at his brother, beg and plead with his brother to stop prying, but it would only make clearer the gravity of the secrets he held. 

“You’re married,” Brother said 

“Believe me, I’m painfully aware of that!” Prince snapped. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, trying to reel in the slip in his temper. 

“You need to get to know your new wife,” Brother insisted. 

“I know my wife!” Prince growled at his brother. A heavy silence fell while he once again tried to get his temper under control. “I know that she loves to spend her entire mornings sleeping. I know that her favorite flowers are white roses. I know that she has a birthmark on the side of her neck. I know that she hates boiled eggs and always wants her eggs fried.”

I know the name of the lowly soldier she loves.

Prince sat heavily on his chair, sagging against the armrests like he’d gone boneless. “I’m not ‘getting to know’ my wife because I don’t need to.” He swallowed. “It’s her that doesn’t want to know me.” 

“You think your wife doesn’t care for you,” Brother said, as if it were some grand realization, the truth behind what kept Prince awake at night. 

Prince bowed his head, wishing that that was all it was.

“You have to give her time,” Brother said gently. “She came here as an effort to strengthen kingdom ties, not to gain a husband.”

The great ache in Prince’s chest threatened to swallow him whole. 

He knew he’d practically forced himself onto Princess. That’s how she saw it, and it’s how Prince’s kingdom saw it. They saw him as a man who took what he wanted. But how could this ever be what he wanted? To be married to a woman who belonged in his dreams and yet loved someone else? To know that she wanted nothing more than to spend her time with Guard? 

He heaved a large sigh. “I will give her that time.” 

Brother didn’t say anything more, and Prince didn’t want him to. He didn’t want any more of his brother’s pity nor his brother’s advice. He wanted Guard gone, and he wanted Princess’s heart intact when Guard left. 

Impossible. 

“Leave me be,” Prince said wearily.

Brother hesitated a moment and then got to his feet and walked towards the door. He paused before opening it. “Why would she marry you if she didn’t see something in you?” With that, Brother left. 

Prince knew the question was rhetorical. He knew it was meant to make him believe in the chance that his wife could love him. But all it did was remind him of the answers he couldn’t share. 

At this point, Prince was fairly certain those answers would die with him, and the only way anyone would ever know was if they opened his chest to see the words carved into his heart.

-

Part 4

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

Tag list:

@writing-on-the-wahl @thepenultimateword @elf-kid2 @thinkwrite5 @tobeornottobeateacher @brekker-by-brekkerr @girl-of-the-sea-and-stars

[griffinkid2187]

Dialogue Prompt

"Why would I need to dance with someone else when I have the most beautiful woman in my arms already"

[hopelessromanticfantasies]

To be honest, I think it would be interesting to write letters to someone as if they were a prince and I were their knight, and we spoke of our secret affection, possibly write each other poetry. Like for real. On Tumblr. Kind of like we were roleplaying. We obviously don't actually have to have feelings for each other or anything like that, but if anyone is interested in acting out a love story between a prince and knight (don't care who's who) or a prince and princess or a prince and servant or anything like that for Tumblr, please tell me! I would love it and I think it would be fun.

[sseniita]

two royals, one stone

part one!! (prologue)

After the war, the Prince thought he had lost everything. His kingdom was in shambles and abandoned, left to fend for themselves under the rule of a foreign King. To add insult to injury the Prince was captured and hidden in the enemy’s dungeon. Hopeless and angry. Until the 13th day that the Queen went to visit him, her heels clicking against the slippery cobblestone. She came unaccompanied by guard with only a lantern lighting her way.

“You want me for what?” the Prince asked through the rusted bars of his cell. The Queen was at an arm’s length from the Prince. He could have grabbed her and threatened to break her neck if she didn’t hand over the keys. Yet something inside the Prince warned him not to. The Queen was older but looked beautiful and kind. Her bright colours were washed out by the darkness enveloping the dungeon. Her gown looked uncomfortable and unnecessary for any occasion that didn't involve ballrooms and dancing. I’ll never understand these northern kingdom attires, thought the prince. The Queen shone like the sun, and smiled just as brightly and she explained. 

“Take my daughter eastward. If not a scratch is laid on her, then you shall have your kingdom returned.” The Queen repeated, as if rehearsed- straight, direct and brave. It was an insult, for something to be stolen from the Prince and then ask of him to work to get it back.

The war between the Prince's Forested Kingdom and the Shining Kingdom they were in now was one written in stone. A burden passed on by the Prince's mother to him. The shining kingdom had always hated the Prince's home. Dirty, dark and evil were the kindest of names used in the feud. Finally, the forested kingdom fell because of a fatal miscalculation the Prince had made. He had to save his kingdom and this might have been his only chance.

“Why me? What’s the catch?” 

“I mean no deception. The journey east is dangerous but required. She needs protection, and who better than the prince who single handedly fended off my army for months.” 

The Prince scoffed. “I didn’t do anything.” 

“Only a fool would believe that. I have reports of you as you handled both your sword in battle and plans in your war room. If it wasn’t for you, your kingdom wouldn’t be rebelling as it is now.” 

The Prince’s head perked. This was the first he heard of a rebellion. The guards teased about his people dying. Cruel lies. 

“They’re giving you trouble, are they?” He said proudly. 

“Yes. Tremendously so.” the Queen winced, forgetting herself.

“Why should I do anything for you? You want my kingdom controlled, only I can do that. I’d be doing you a favour by just returning to my kingdom, leaving you to rule over your own."

“Perhaps. But I am not dull. I need leverage to make sure you don't attack and I need something done. Something only you can do right."

Two birds with one stone. The Princes clenched his fist. He was being used.

"I suppose I should perhaps rephrase. Take my daughter east, make sure she arrives in perfect condition and you shall be returned to your kingdom that we will rebuild once you agree to a truce and you will control your people. And yes, I'll be the first to admit our mistake." The Queen rolled her eyes.

"If even one scratch is inflicted on her at any point or if any traitorous activity is noticed you shall be beheaded, and your corpse burned on enemy territory.” 

"And if I don't?"

"Feel free to rot, your highness." The queen smirked. "If you don't take my deal, you'll never see the light of day."

As the Queen said those words it began to sound like a wager. The kindness in her voice was gone, replaced by something sinister and protective, but her face remained kind. The Prince almost wanted to reason with her. 

“And your husband?”

“I will deal with my husband the moment my daughter arrives in the eastern territories.” 

“How do I know you're not lying?” 

“If I were lying you would quickly figure it out and kill the Princess. I would never risk that loss.” 

“And lets say I believe you’re telling the truth-”

“Then that would mean we have a deal.” The Queen interrupted, a smile reforming on her face. “So?” 

The Prince trusted no one, and that included the foreign Queen. Even if this was all lie he could runaway back to his kingdom. He doubted it'd be that easy but if he could make it East and there was the slightest chance the Queen kept her side of the deal- the Prince had to take it.

"East? Past the forbidden woods." The Prince's mind connected the dots. "The Sun Chapel. It wouldn't've have anything to do with that. Right?" The Sun chapel was shrouded in mystery and legends. Most bad, most involving the Shining Kingdom.

The Queen didn't respond. The Princes sighed, despite himself he laughed, not believing the utter mistake he was about to commit.

The Prince hadn’t met the Princess but there were rumours of her involvement in an ancient prophecy or that she had been cursed since birth. Tales of the Princess often involved irresistible beauty and grace or painful, inevitable misfortunes. Well, the Prince had a curse of his own, he couldn’t say no to a wager. 

[retold-tales]

My Prince In Dancing Shoes

Imagine price derek helping you to learn how to dance and him falling for you along the way

Full Oneshot

[cutiepoototie3]

༺♱༻𝒱𝒶𝓂𝓅𝒾𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝓍 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈༺♱༻ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎a small fanfic of my two not meant to be ocs kissing for the first time. There is some blood but it’s only small bleeding. 🩸 💔‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He looked into her eyes. A pensive gaze he gave her. An uncertainty, as his hands clenched into a sweaty balm as the tips of his brows furrowed ever so slightly. “We shouldn’t..” he said in a whisper like tone “Angelina I..” she looked at him with a confused gaze. Her soft green eyes looking over at him and then smiling “what? I think you need to say more Marcello..” she says taking in his sweaty palmed hand and making it open in hers. The cool night breeze drying his hand as he subconsciously opens up. His eyes looking down and then back to her eyes. She could see a clouded storm going through his mind. Knowing he had something to say. She smiled again as her smaller hand entered his large one. “I know you have something to say.. just say it.” She said quietly.

“I love you.” He spurred breathily as if she had forced the confession out of him. Her face widens but she smiles brightly as ever. A warm feeling rushing through him. Was her smile good? Was it a sign of mockery? Humiliation? He couldn’t tell. He wanted to pull his sweaty hand back but couldn’t find the reason or courage too. Frozen in a thought as he just made the stupidest mistake in his life.

“I love you too.” She smiles. Her cheeks puffing up as the dimples in her smile deepen. He couldn’t resist how charming and warm she looked. He was completely enamored with her. He took in a breath he held and shook his head in a flustered manner “you don’t love me..” he said quickly removing his hand from hers “you wouldn’t like me..” he said taking a small shuffle away. “Now why wouldn’t I?” She said now a bit more serious. “I.. you don’t know me Angelina..” he said furrowing his brows, taking a confident step back but she took one closer to him back “don’t know you? Marcello.. I’ve known you enough to know you are a good man.” She said earnestly “maybe I don’t know everything.. but I want to. I want to know you. And I want you to know me.” She said taking his hand again with more force and pulling it to her chest “I love you Marcello… you’ve made me feel free.. you’ve helped me despite you not knowing it. I want to know you Marcello.” She said looking into his stunned eyes.

“I.. what if you don’t like who I am.. where I’m from.” You says seriously. The gap between them unknowingly getting closer. “Where you are from doesn’t change who you are.” She says “do you love me Marcello?” She asks again more quietly. “More than anything..” he whispers huskily. He looks down and then at her “then.. I will let you know me..” he says “and I will let you know me..” she says back. His two sweetly palms now in hers. “Will you kiss me Marcello?” She asks tentatively. He looked at her with widen eyes. Seeming to be flustered and then smiling and nodding “I will kiss you a hundred times if you asked me Princesa..” he said as his hand slowly let go and grabbed her waist. The other still in hers but grabbing the side of her face with both. She smiles and melts into the touch looking at him dreamily. The soft strawberry curls flowing down to her shoulders and the soft white light from the moon making her skin shimmer in beauty. He wondered how he ever got so lucky. All reason he had, all the consequences of what he was doing, every single bad decision was completely out the window. Slowly his eyes close and so do hers. He edges closer and with a careful step he kisses her and deepens it. His instincts screaming to do one thing. The taste of sweet fruit on his lips. How he wished he could suck in her taste like a bat eating a fruit. Daringly she deepens the kiss and he hums. He never thought loving someone would be this nice. No worries. Just him and her.

Carried away he opens his mouth slightly. All being well as he can taste the sweetness again. Another hum escaping him as he hears a squeal and the suddenness of being pushed back. Confused and hurt he opens his eyes to only find a scared and distressed Angelina in front of him. Blood trickling down the corner of her mouth as she looks down overwhelmed from her hands trying to wipe it off. His mind instantly started racing but his body frozen. She looks at him confused and hurt also but her eyes trailing his lips in fear. His hand instinctively pulled up to his mouth to find the wet sensation of blood and his sharp teeth.

“Your… your a..” her eyes widen in fear. “Angelina I..” he didn’t have the words to say. This is exactly what he feared. How could he mess up something so crucial? So stupid? “I.. I didn’t hurt you. I didn’t mean too I-“ she takes a step back in uncertainty. The bleeding seeming to calm “h-here let me-“ he reached out his hand to the rescue but she leans back and makes him stop. He looked at her hurt. Why was he so foolish to think that she could ever accept him? Of course she was scared. He was a monster. No girl- no human would ever want a monster like him. He hurt her. How could he? He was meant to hurt her. That was duty, but not like this.. how could he fall in so deep? “I thought you said you didn’t care who i was..” he mumbled as it was the first that came into thought. “I.. I have to go..” he takes a step back and then starts to quickly walk away. She stands there stunned. She checks her mouth again to see the bleeding stopped. The taste of metallic in her mouth. She looks back up at him with wide eyes of relization. “M-Marcello! Wait!” She says running after him but she’s too late beacuse he was gone. As if he vanished with the air itself…

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✩༺☆༻*

This is a small snippy of my two Oc’s I’ve been working on. This is kinda just a scene I’ve been thinking about lately so I wanted to write it before it left my head. I hope it’s good and enjoyable to read. :) maybe in the future I’ll show art if these two or more info.

also, i apologize if my writing sucks.😔 I've been trying to improve my writing also. but if you read this thanks for reading!

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 & 𝐿𝒾𝑒𝓈

Chapter III

Warnings: Language, Adult Themes, War, Fantasy Tropes Summary: Two kingdoms on the urge of bringing peace between their lands. A benevolent princess who finds music as a fun hobby and invests herself in books. And a belligerent prince who takes whatever he claims his and will soon be crowned for king. Relationship: Prince!Ransom/Princess!Reader

Prologue Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III

Huge thanks to @captain-a-rogerss to the edit of Prince!Ransom. Give her some love as always!

I don’t consent to have my work hosted on any second party, app, or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it’s been reposted without my permission.

Author’s Note:  Sorry for delay, I wanted to make this chapter extra special and I also had to gather information I forgot after a year so the plot and character don’t ruin themselves by my absence

The rest of the night felt like a total nightmare. The Thrombey’s and Drysdale’s completely forgot about the recent comments that you spoke lastly. You were lucky for most of the parts that they never mentioned anything else about you, but the feeling of having Linda’s son sending you a death look.  Not a single second made you think less of him. You were considered a better Royal than him. 

Without a significant other, you could handle a kingdom on your own.

Perhaps you didn’t want to take your father’s throne. If James was able to skip his coronation, could you do the same? Skip the princes and do something better than just sit on the chair and hear about the village's life problems when you could do something huge outside your home. Build homes for those who sit out in the cold. 

Royals always thought less for the poor. If Ransom couldn’t help, you were the generation to do it yourself. He would just have to stay out of your way.

You hear a faint knock on your door and the door creaks open. “Good morning, Y/N,” Brodie says, you turn away from your window, wearing your silky blue gown, giving your dear friend a smile. “Good morning, Brodie. What’s the occasion?”

She grins, “Your mother has insisted on having you downstairs. She would like to speak with you.” You fully turned and nodded. You were the first to leave your room, Brodie following behind. If your mother speaks about dinner last night, you would have to reason with her. And you know how much she loved the family. You felt like you were the bad person in the room when they came. But the real answer was the family. 

Even your town was afraid of them.

Your mother never knew about the incident of punching Ransom. If you did, she may lock you up in a tower. Your father had kept the incident from her because he knew her more than you did. She didn’t know the full reason why he sent you to that Manor. Your mother only agreed to it with no questions. You could hear your mother chatting to one of the maids as she sat at the long table. 

“Morning, Ma cherie. Je vous en prie, asseyez-vous,” Your mother says, you listen and take a seat right next to her. Her gentle eyes scanning the letter, she hums, “How was your ball, yesterday?” You peer up at her, finally grinning. “It was wonderful. I’m sure Angelica would have one for her sixteenth?”

Your mother nods, “Yes, of course. We would’ve done that for yours, but sadly your father sent you off to that manor,” She shook her head while you drew your eyes away, sheepishly. “Also, your father and I were talking about your betrothal. I’m sure that’ll come in a few months, don’t you think, ma cherie-?”

You reach for your face and sighed, “Mother, please, can we-” Her hand lifts up to stop you mid-sentence, “Ah-ah. Miss Brodie, darling, can you excuse us for a moment?” She asks. Brodie’s face beams up, bowing her head, “Yes, Your Grace.” Seconds later, you’re left with your mother in the large room. She taps your forearm, “Don’t touch your face, darling. Hands down.” You sigh, turning to her. “I can’t do marriage. I’m not ready-”

“Och. Darling, your brother was to be crowned 10 years ago and he chose to be with a poor lovely woman, your sister wants to be the fairest of them all and you… you don’t want this?”

“What I don’t want is having to submit to someone. Yes, I wanted to be queen alone, but I found something else-” You drop your shoulders, helplessly, taking your mother’s hand in yours to have her understand. It only made her shake her head, “This is what has to happen.” You lowered your head and shook it.

You hear your mother click her tongue, taking your chin, “The only reason we do this...is to have those who we trust to take our place. And you can’t do that alone. No one could,” She lifts your chin up to look up at her. She grins, “We’ll talk more later on. Go on.” You lifted yourself from your seat and left the room. You figured Brodie was somewhere else, so you headed to the stables just outside. Slowly meeting up with your shire horse, Oliver.

“Morning, Oliver,” You say, rubbing your hand down your horse’s back. Oliver sputters towards you as you add the saddle and situated it before getting on. You pat her side, “Let’s go down the river for a bit, okay?” You take the shank in hand and gently guide yourself down the small trail. Your horse takes you down the trail through the woods with flowers and bright green grass.

So much hadn’t changed since, the creek you remembered when you skipped rocks and dropped flowers, watching them glide down the ripples. 

The amount of bunnies you had in the forest. Your mother gave you a pet bunny once. You weren’t sure how the poor thing got away. Your horse sputters softly and you hear rustling in the brush. Your horse comes to a stop for you to look around. The sound of galloping horses filled your ears and people were shouting. 

Your horse lifts up its front hooves causing you to scream in fright as three men are chasing a couple deer down the trails. You couldn’t help but scowl. “Excuse me!” You call out, one of them comes to a stop while the other two continue to chase the deer. “Yes, milady?” He asked, his familiar uniform gave you the hint of a guard. 

The similar Lion button was on the front of his horse's chest and his sword was gold and the handle was a leather brown for grip. You hear another pair of horse’s hooves. “Head on, Francis. I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?” 

“No, Your Highness,” You hear him say, turning his horse’s head to hunt down the deer. You turn and see Ransom on his dark horse. He ogled yours with disgust, “You know they do have smaller horses for your size. There’s no need to show your pride with that.” You roll your eyes and your horses circled around on the trail. “You know you’re hunting,” You say.

Ransom looks out to the forest and nods, smugly, “Yeah, it’s the season. I have a bigger family than yours, so I’m in charge of hunting.”

You scoff with a grin, “I know you wouldn’t hunt just for food. For your family, you’d call it a sport.” Ransom chuckles at that, lowering his head, looking at the back of his horse’s neck. The ways Ransom had when it comes to hunting, you’ve seen him do it in person. He disgusted you in a way. “And you’re on my land, I suggest you leave.”

Ransom lifts his head up, “Your land?” He asks, “Pardon me, but I don’t think after a day of being welcomed back, you don’t get to command another Royal to leave when you don’t have the upper crown.” You lifted a brow up, cockily, “Ask your men for their sword, I’ll show you.” Ransom’s gaze seemed to darken the second you said that. It didn’t change yours either. Your horses’ continue to circle and you look over to the field. 

“My grandfather always told me how much you beat him at Go. He said you had a lot of strategy. Takes years to master.”

“Why, didn’t you?” You asked, chin lifted up like you had the upper hand of being the tougher one here. Ransom halts his horse and so does yours. Your horses’ noses pointing opposite directions, you and Ransom made eye contact. His dark grin grew, “Even if I told you, I wouldn’t try it with you.”

“I know that’s your way of knowing I would beat you,” You replied. Ransom wasn’t always good at anything he did with you. Except that when you two first had your duel, he only became more of an imbecile. Translation: An Asshole. That day, returning after your incident with Ransom who’s probably feeding his family with Blood Elk they find in the Evergreen Mountain. Blood Elks are the rarest animals in the mountain, their red antlers are wide and tough that stories were told to scare children from running up there. 

Your father was a hunter when he was young, there was never a time where he didn’t have a hunting story to tell. The time he got bit by one of the most strongest bears in the country or the time he shot an arrow at an eagle flying in the sky. He initially taught your brother, James to hunt and eventually James learned how to skin animals and turn them into rugs or just even small things. James had a weird little thing for the anatomy of animals that he became very smart and learned the anatomy of humans, knowing the weak spots and fatal parts of the body. That’s why he joined a sport down in town facing mercenaries or other men who challenge on a horse and a spear. Jousting was his favorite hobby of all and he won every championship. Training his way into this championship in Winter, he is always out in the fields taking down sandbags in armor off a friendly horse chasing towards him while an instructor assists. 

“Darling.”

“Yes, mother?” You asked.

Your mother lifts her head up and smiles, “You're going down to the library in town, are you?” You look down at the book in your hands and close the book, knowing you could read another book. “I might.” Your mother puts her hands on her lap, “I wanted you to go talk to the florist, Miss Nora, she has these flowers from the Spain land, Chocolate Cosmos, so beautiful. You should grab some on your way back.” You then thought now you had to go, you can never refuse a Queen’s request. “Of course— AH!” A large thud hits the table and you look up to see a dead deer. You stand up, startled before you collapse into the arms of the same man you met, the boy’s face drowns with worry. “Are you alright, Your Majesty?” You glance at the deer and turn away disgusted that the deer's mouth was open not to your liking.

Ransom peered over the boy’s shoulder and grabbed him, “Let her go,” He growled at his Gillie and the boy helped you back on your feet and let go of you. Your mother and father were more impressed than uncomfortable. Ransom switches his tone, “Good afternoon, Your Majesty.”

“Ransom, I didn’t know you were still in the Kingdom,” Your mother says, your father grins and raises his palm. “I allowed him to do a little hunting for my men. They’re so slow when it comes to hunting deer,” Your father scoffed. You gag and the *Gillie boy turns to you. “Well, thank you, Ransom, this is the nicest thing you could do for us. Should we offer you a room? You look tired.” You shake your head, holding your hand to your mouth. “No, thank you, I have somewhere else to go for the evening.” Your father waves him off, “Thank you, Ransom, you’re welcome to take the deer to our butcher, he shall butcher it for dinner tonight.” Ransom bows a couple inches and turns.  *Gillie or ghillie is an ancient Gaelic term for a person who acts as a servant or attendant on a fishing, hunting.

The Gillie boy mutters to you, “You alright?”

“I’m okay–”

“Ben!” Ransom shouts, the boy flinches and gently rubs your shoulder before picking up the deer and struggles to carry it behind Ransom to the Butcher. You looked towards your parents and saw yourself out the door. You had your gown in your fists, angrily making your way through the hall. You hear large footsteps behind and you gasp the second you’re pushed against the wall. Ransom towers over you and grabs your chin with his thumb. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to see your face.”

“What do you mean,” You grit, trying to pull away from him. Ransom grins and looks down at your gown. “All these colors aren’t going to cover up your secrets, Y/N.” His blue eyes look deep into yours. “What are you?” He asked, your eyes glare at him, bringing up the similar voice into your head when you were little. 

“What. Are. You?” 

You don’t answer that and it makes him smirk, “The thing about deer is that their hearts aren’t close to their chest, it’s more halfway down above their stomach and below their lungs…” Ransom puts his finger on your stomach but you could barely feel it through your corset. “You either take the arrow and fire there–” He gently jabs your stomach, “–Or you take the arrow and strike it to the neck of its arteries.” He points to your neck and lightly pokes it. Stepping away, he smirks and watches you leave, lifting your gown to remove yourself from that hall. Ransom grins and turns down the other way.

 The next day, Brodie got you ready in a relaxed gown to go out into town, and two soldiers chaperoned you to the library on your father’s behalf. Brodie tagged along to help you find the flowers when you stop at the florist. If you were to throw yourself off a course of task, it’s a rule that your parents should know you went to another place. Which you wanted to visit the bakery. You skipped the library causing Brodie and the soldiers to stop, “Your Majesty, the library.”

You wave your hand, “I know, I want to do the florist first.” Brodie sighs and follows along with the soldiers who held their swords hilts in their sheaths. You could barely see their eyes but you can tell their lower faces were a curiosity of how handsome their faces were. You walked up to the small flower shop and saw an old woman fixing some flowers on the display. “Miss Nora.”

“Ah, Your Majesty,” She grins, “I know what you’re here for, the Queen asked for a couple dozen of Chocolate Cosmos, my son, Frances traveled to Spain and found these. I always thought your mother was more fond of blue but she has a unique taste.” You chuckled and paid the woman a couple coins, she was in complete awe. “Your Majesty, I can’t–”

“It’s between us,” You winked, the currency you owned was one of the richest gold. Carved in the coin was one of the first Kings of Saphir. The old lady thanked you so kindly, bowing and blessing you with a couple more flowers. Brodie helped you carry some of the flowers gathered in a basket and you made your way over to the library. The castle had a library of its own but there was more of history than there was of nonfiction. You learned to read French by your mother and there were common French books to read, especially Latin. Latin and French are not very distinct from each other but you wanted to learn Latin and many more languages.

“This book, here… Romeo–”

“Read that, already,” You spoke, searching through the books. Brodie steps over to another spine of a book. “Spy of the Stars?” Brodie asked, you looked over and shook your head. “Oh!” You peep, reaching into the shelf to pull out a book with a lack of writing and over worn. “Game Without Glory.” You began to read the first chapter and you began to feel already pulled into it. You and Brodie walk out with a couple other books and the soldiers stiffen themselves up when you turn to them, “Bakery, next.”

“Your Highness, we were ordered to take you back after your visit with the florist and library–”

You sigh and begin to walk towards the Bakery, “I’ll be quick, besides, I think my father would enjoy a tarte framboise.” Brodie tags along and without argument the soldiers follow beside her. The welcoming sign of the Bakery and the smell of French bread and sourdough filled the air when you walked in. “Stop eating those, they’re not for you! You’re lucky I’m making extra.”

“So I can have some–”

“Stop it, James!” The red haired young girl slapped the hand of the Prince. “Are you harassing her in her own bakery?” James turns still leaned on the counter with a grin. “Of course I am not! I’m just eating her delicious tart…” He slips another tart into his mouth slowly. Quinn rolls her eyes and pulls the pan of tarts away from him. James lifts himself off the counter and turns around, “What are you doing out here?” He notices the soldiers outside of the Bakery. “Ah, mom.”

“She wanted me to stop for some flowers but I wanted to stop for something nice.”

Quinn comes back out and brushes off her gown, “Would you like to take a couple rolls I made? It’s a new recipe I made.” You beam at her with delight, “Of course, I would love to try some!” Quinn smiles and leaves to go grab the basket. “Would you like me to take you back?” James asked, “I don’t like that they’re sending you off with soldiers everyday."

All you could ever do was smile, "I don’t mind them, they’re like friends.” James gives you a blank look and then nods, “Alright, then. Be safe back home.” Quinn came back with a basket of rolls and added some fruits on the side. “Oh, this is wonderful, Quinn, thank you so much.” Quinn grins and bows a little bit. “Of course, I hope you’ll like them and your parents, too.” 

You chuckle, “I hope not, I don’t want my father to make you into our bakery or something.” Quinn laughs and lightly touches James' shoulder. “I wouldn’t let him,” James added. Brodie picks up the basket of rolls and you sigh, “Alright I’m off, thank you again. I’ll see you another day!”

“Bye, Y/N!” 

When  you walk out, the soldiers close in to your side as you step down the stairs. On the way back was a chatty walk, you and Brodie were making plans for the day to check on your horse and as well the garden. When you got home, a maid rushed her way down the stairs, almost out of fear. “Your Highness!” She calls, she stops in front of you and bows. “The King has requested to see you immediately.” You asked Brodie and the maid to take care of the baskets and made your way to the Great Hall where your father and mother sat at, they were talking to a woman in a red dress and another man standing beside her and a smaller one just a few inches shorter beside them with his hand behind his back and the other in front of him.

You slowly walk up, brushing your hair off your face and fixing your dress. “Ma cherie,” Your mother touches your father’s hand and he looks. “Ah, look who showed up.”

“Hello, father.”

“You’ve met the Royals of Romania?” You turn and notice the similar faces from your ball, including their handsome son named Rafael. His mother grins, “We’ve been allies for many generations and I’ve come to an agreement that something should be requested and decided before next fall.”

Your father slightly leans to the side, “That’s a long wait, you sure you don’t want a decision immediately?” The Queen steps up once, “I know after the princess’ return every princess is jealous and every prince wants to take her hand and bear their child but I’m letting–” She glances at you, “–the princess decide what she wants.” You picked at your hands and saw Rafael glance at you with a small grin. “Very well–” Your father said, “I will give you a letter if there has been any changes or requests for this matter. There’s no other Royal Family I will allow my daughter to marry, but it is her decision.” You wanted to say no, but you were worried about the consequences of the arranged marriage. 

You don’t want to get married. Being sent off to a manor that is filled with more women you can imagine that are put through to behave and learn the way of how women should act. But it was different. You got the reality that there can be a change. You hate men. How disgusting and horrible they are, but there was a source of hope that one could come. But you don’t know if Rafael or Samuels are one of those men.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” The Queen bows, “Bringing our Kingdoms together can break the ideal of war between the others.” The King nods and waves them off, the King and Queen of Romania leave but the son stays and turns to you. He takes your hand gently by giving you a look of consent and you allow him to take your hand and kiss your knuckles softly, still looking into your eyes with gleam. “Do think about it,” His accent was so smooth it had you struck with thought when he walked away with his parents. Your father’s strong gaze ripped you out of the trance. 

“Father, I don’t know if you’ve heard but I don’t want to get–”

“I know you don’t want to, but this is the choice of life or death,” He stands up, “I don’t know if you’ve heard recently there’s a Royal who’s trying to get the throne. They call him the Royal of War. His whole Kingdom was destroyed into ruins by every Kingdom because their generations are considered the weak Royals, but now his last generation is him and he will do anything to get to us.” 

You realize, now. Marrying can stop war, your biggest fear was being in a war. The blood and the dead bodies have been haunting you ever since you heard stories about the Saphir Wars many decades ago. Your ideal of a world was peace. You didn’t argue back and nod once with a bow. “I’ll think about it.” Your father nods with great content and waves you off. 

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[xxlovgyxx]

Just a Mikamitsu picture.

PoV

- Mitsuba comes from the Sangu Kingdom. One day she finds in her garden a bunny and kisses his little nose, as she finds it cute but the 'cute' bunny transforms into a young handsome Prince, Mikaela Shindo. Mika comes from the Shindo Kingdom and has the ability as all the royals from this Kingdom to turn himself into an animal.

And POOF a contact between them happens....

What will happen next?! 🤔😉

PS.

Don't repost, just reblog

[madeleineengland]

This whole thread about Azula's fake confidence and terrifying vulnerability really opened my third eye

[ladydreamfyyreee]

𝐀𝐥𝐲𝐬 & 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝’𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐈𝐈, 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚, 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚, 𝐀𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈, 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚, 𝐌𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐫, & 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚’𝐬 𝟔 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 : ( @𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲𝐭𝐨𝐦𝟎𝟕𝟏𝟐 )

[im-a-wonderling]

Once A Heart Is Given ~ a continuation of Sorrows Can Swim

It's definitely true that art mimics life. Thanks to certain life events, I'm feeling remarkably similar to Prince, so...I guess inspiration is my silver lining?

Warnings: none

Word count: 2.2k

Sorrows Can Swim masterlist

-

Prince was tired of meetings. He was tired of people needing him. And he was tired of this life he called his own. 

The council, fully composed of men greyer than rainclouds and wrinklier than raisins, sat at the big table. They never looked at him with anything less than expectancy, waiting for him to listen and make the big decisions that came with his duty. 

“We’ll send funds to the village, but discreetly,” Prince decided, hating that he had to be subtle with his support at the risk of offending the nobility, but unwilling to let his people flounder. 

The men leaned in towards each other, debating his decision with those calculating eyes and lowly spoken words. Prince waited for them to raise a complaint meant for his ears, but the murmuring eventually died. “Are we settled?” he asked the room at large. The men didn’t speak, to agree or disagree, which was a telltale sign they felt they were doing him a great service in humoring him. 

Prince ached for a kind word from them, but that was like waiting for fairies to come, pointless and even if it happened, only a luxury. 

“Is that all for today?” he asked the council, concealing his weariness the best he could. 

The head councilman bowed. “Yes, sire, that’s all for the day.”

“Then I will see everyone tomorrow.” The council all got up from their chairs, bowed as one, and filed out of the room, talking amongst themselves again. 

They have each other, Prince lamented. I have no one. 

Prince’s shoulders slumped as he rubbed his eyes against the harsh, bright afternoon sun streaming into the room. He got up, turning to grab a fistful of the curtain, intending to close it and shut away the light. 

But then he caught sight of the garden below and the beauty running amongst the hedges. 

Princess.

Her long, unbound hair streamed behind her, her fists pumping as she ran. She reached the fountain and spun, the pale purple fabric of her dress billowing around her as she spun a full circle and a half, allowing her to face the castle once again. Her radiant smile was aimed at the ladies that were catching up to her. 

What would it feel like to have that smile aimed at him?

Her mouth opened, and even through the glass, his ears caught her merry laughter. His heart swelled, and a pained croak fell from his lips. 

He couldn’t contain it, the way he felt for her. He ached to hear her laugh again, but with the way his heart seemed to grow every time he heard it, it might grow too big for his chest if she did. He felt as if a piece of her was inside him, like she was interwoven in his being, and in the piece’s mighty effort to return to her, it nearly dragged him with it. He considered it a minor miracle that it wasn’t her name he said every time he opened his mouth. He couldn’t imagine what the council would think of him if that were the case. 

Princess tagged one of the ladies and ran away, shrieking from the excitement of the game. 

A sigh left him, and he allowed his forehead to rest against the glass, his eyes following her every movement. He knew he needed to look away, if not out of respect then for his own sanity. He needed to banish her from his mind or he would spend forever watching her from this window. If Princess were to look up through the window, she would catch sight of the fond smile toying at her husband’s mouth. But Princess kicked off her shoes, oblivious to her spectator as she lifted her skirts and ran. 

And he couldn’t look away.

He’d spent most of his life either looking at or looking for her. 

Every summer since Prince turned ten and Princess turned eight, she’d spent in this castle. Prince could still remember the first day she’d arrived in a blue carriage with golden accents, the Tunican colors. Nursemaid had all but wrestled Prince into his best clothes. As they stood outside the castle, watching the carriage appear in the distance, Nursemaid lightly smacked Prince’s hand every time he reached up to scratch the itchy collar. When the carriage came to a stop and a footman opened the door, Prince expected a bratty, snooty girl to step out.

A snooty girl indeed was who took the footman’s waiting hand. Once she was out of the carriage, she stood on the ground, blinking out at all the people standing in the castle courtyard waiting for her. Prince had started to groan, not looking forward to the bowing and scraping that was about to occur. 

But before anything of the kind happened, the girl took off like a shot, running not towards the people or back into the carriage, but off to the side, towards the royal orchard. 

The footman, clearly used to this behavior, ran after her, calling her name, and a few other servants joined in the chase, including Nursemaid.

But Prince looked back at the carriage to see two dainty blue shoes, laying discarded in the dust of the path from where Princess had kicked them off. 

Never in his life had Prince known chaos like the day Princess sprinted through the courtyard and into his life. And nothing else in his life had he wished for since. 

“Sire?” 

Prince jerked away from the window, blinking as his eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of the room that had been too bright moments before. “Yes?” 

“I have done as you ask.” 

Finally, Prince’s eyes adjusted to see Maid standing in the doorway, looking a bit confused. “I’m listening.” He tried to arrange himself in a very thoughtful, serious position.

Maid swept into a deep curtsey. “Sire, she said she has no need for jewelry or clothes, sire, nor stationary or books.” 

Prince frowned. His sneaky attempts once again failed to find out what Princess wanted for her birthday—which was two days away. It would be her first birthday in Prince’s kingdom, her first birthday as his wife. He wanted her to enjoy it, and he was getting desperate. 

“What about a horse?” he asked desperately.

Maid shook her head. “She has a prize mare already, sire.”

Prince pursed his lips, deep in thought. 

With their lives similarly decadent, what riches could he offer her? The only thing he could give with value other than monetary was his heart, and he’d given it to her already. She didn’t want it, he knew that, and if it were humanly possible, he would’ve taken it back long ago. Prince wasn’t even sure that a heart could be taken back once it was given. 

“But if I may?”

Prince looked up at Maid, her fingers anxiously smoothing down her skirt, betraying her unease when her face didn’t. “Yes?” he said.

“She mentioned that she wants to go see Queen’s Veil Falls.” 

Prince turned back to look at Princess, who was much further through the garden now. The waterfall was one of Prince’s favorite places in the whole kingdom. 

As he watched Princess roll on the grass in an attempt to dodge one of the ladies, a plan started forming in Prince’s head. “Thank you, that will be all.”

“Sir, you…you don’t want to hear anything else?”

Prince furrowed his brows, spinning to see Maid’s furrowed brows. “What else is there?”

Maid glanced over her shoulder and then lowered her voice. “There’s a man–”

“No!” Prince said, so loudly, Maid flinched. “I’m sorry.” Prince rubbed his forehead, reeling back his feelings and pushing them down. “You’re dismissed.”

His outburst must’ve frightened her, for Maid curtsied and scurried away. 

What had she been about to say? It certainly would’ve involved Guard, but was it information Prince already knew? Or was there more?

Prince swallowed hard and pulled out a map, forcing himself to stare at the location of Queen’s Veil Falls. 

The waterfall was a pleasant, secluded space. Prince had never been there with more than three people, and often, he simply went by himself. But Princess wouldn’t want to spend her birthday with Prince, and he couldn’t send her ladies there without an escort, and an escort would make the group too big.

But there was a way for Princess to go to the waterfall with only one other person, someone who was very capable of protecting her, and possibly the person Princess would most enjoy going with. 

-

Prince waited until the next morning before going to the barracks.

The dimly lit room contained twenty beds, ten on each side. Nineteen of the beds were empty, only one bed was occupied: the bed in the corner, furthest away from the light. The torches had been snuffed, leaving the sunlight streaming through two tiny windows as the only source of light in the room.

Prince walked briskly to the bed, eyeing the lump underneath the blanket. Guard was on duty the night before and was now catching up on some much needed sleep. Normally, Prince would avoid waking him at all costs, for Guard was already problematic enough to deal with when he’d slept well.

But this conversation couldn’t wait with the Princess’s birthday being the next day. 

“I have work for you,” he told the lump still in bed.

The lump moved from beneath the blanket, and Guard’s groggy face appeared. Any other soldier in this castle would leap out of bed, standing at attention with poker straight posture. But Guard merely rubbed his eyes. “What?” he said, irritated. 

“Princess’s birthday is tomorrow.” 

Guard propped himself up on his elbows, blinking sleepily at Prince. “And?”

Prince stood statue still. Somewhere inside surely resided anger, but all Prince could feel was misery. Everyone deserved to be celebrated on their birthday. If Guard cared a mite for Princess, he’d commit himself to her enjoyment. But he didn’t, so he wouldn’t. Over and over, Guard’s actions spoke of nothing but self-interest, and Prince only had himself to blame for being disappointed. 

He took a deep breath and blew it out as slowly as he could. “Princess wants to go to Queen’s Veil Falls. If the two of you leave after breakfast tomorrow, she can have lunch at the falls and be back before dinner. I think–”

“What’s in it for me?” Guard interrupted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“A picnic. The chance to see a beautiful place. Time with Princess away from the castle.” Guard raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed, and Prince scowled. “You’ll have a day free of duties aside from keeping her safe. That must be sorely tempting.”

Guard smacked his lips, as if he were literally tasting the offer and deciding his verdict. “Very well.”

Prince stared as Guard yawned and stretched.

What would he himself give to be the one Princess wanted to celebrate her birthday with? If some witch could somehow make Princess naturally love Prince…why, Prince would give the witch anything she wanted, perhaps even his life’s purpose—his kingdom. And here Guard was, acting as though this opportunity, as though Princess were burdensome?

Guard’s eyes lazily passed over Prince, but then he froze in his position with his arms stretched towards the ceiling. Then, he lowered his arms and pushed himself up on his feet. “Does His Highness have something to say?” he asked, his mocking voice undermining the title. 

Prince turned away. “The kitchens will prepare the picnic basket, and the stables will have two horses saddled and waiting for you.”

“Look at me!” Guard shouted, and Prince looked over his shoulder to see a dangerous light flickering in Guard’s eyes. “You don’t get to dismiss me.”

“I’m not.”

Guard advanced on Prince. “You will treat me with the respect I’m owed, or I’ll–”

“Spill the beans. I’m aware.” Prince held his clasped hands behind him, looking Guard directly in the eye. If only Guard knew what the kitchen staff normally did to rats, then he’d have no doubt that Prince was already treating him much better than he deserved.

Guard’s mouth suddenly spread into a nasty smile as he made a show of dusting off the shoulder of Prince’s doublet. “No matter. Your wife treats me well enough for both of you.”

Maybe Prince should’ve punched in Guard’s nose right then and there. Ordered him out of the castle. Called for the other soldiers to throw him in prison.

He was too defeated to do anything of the kind.

Prince just tiredly blinked at Guard, waiting until the man was satisfied enough to allow him to leave without more grandstanding.

Guard stepped back. And then he spat.

Prince lowered his gaze to the glob of saliva now darkening the front of his shirt.

“You’re pathetic,” Guard said in a low tone. “And your wife knows it.” 

Prince waited for the searing, poker-hot pain to shoot through his chest, but he felt nothing. Nothing at all. His heart made nary a peep. Perhaps it really was wholly and completely Princess’s, so far gone, it resided in his chest no longer. “Don’t forget about tomorrow,” he said quietly before turning away.

“Come back here!” Guard shouted, but Prince ignored him.

He had a meeting to go to, and apparently he had to change his shirt.

-

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

Tag list:

@writing-on-the-wahl @thepenultimateword @elf-kid2 @thinkwrite5 @tobeornottobeateacher @brekker-by-brekkerr @girl-of-the-sea-and-stars @lunatic-moss-studio @blueberryblood11

[animatorroseoak]

They are stuck in my head 24/7

[coffebits]

Princess bride AU✨