![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedesSummary: Crow, as poor boy lost in a corrupt system, obviously hated the royal family. But he found himself continuously coming back to the castle, after hearing the possibility of a prince his age...
First Chapter | Masterpost (for more information) | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Crow never really had anything to do. Many people would think that someone who lived so close to the Triton’s castle would not only have to be rich, but constantly entertained. Many people had asked if he had even seen a member of the royal family before; as if someone so rich and uppity would ever go into the dirt of the outside. But, no. The Tritons mostly kept to themselves (why would they leave their cushy little castle when it had everything they needed?), and Crow was anything but rich. He lived by himself most of the time, as his mother worked long hours just to make sure neither of them starved. His father was… Not in the equation. And he couldn’t even stay at his measly, rickety old house, most of the time, as his mother forbade it. (They had been robbed too many times for his mother to leave him home alone with a sound mind.) Because of that, he spent what little time he didn’t use by trying to scrounge up money mostly loitering around, or walking, lost in thought.
So why did he keep coming back here? To the Triton’s palace? He couldn’t even go inside. He just sat at the castle gates, just out of sight of the guards…
He certainly wasn’t the King’s and Queen’s biggest fan; and why should he be, if they let him and his friends so far down? Let children; children like him; fall victim to starvation, illnesses, and class inequality? No, he couldn’t care less about the King and Queen. But, from what little he understood about the royal family, he knew the two of them had a son. They kept said son sheltered; heck, Crow didn’t even know the kid’s name. But Badger insisted he caught a glimpse of him once, through the castle gates, and said he was their age.
Was that why? Why Crow kept coming back here? To try and see the prince? Then what? Did some sort of stupid part of him think that the prince of England would so much as spare him, some poor kid, a second glance? Did an even stupider part hope they could talk? Maybe that the prince would be touched, and have his parents do something about how the poor were treated?
Stupid. It was stupid. There was no reason to be here.
Crow had just convinced himself of that, and turned to leave, when he saw something move in the royal yard. He stopped, and continued to look through the gapes in the gate. Just in case.
And, somehow, someway, his intuition was right. Out from behind the castle, a boy his age, in clothing so nice it looked unreal, walked into the front yard of the Triton’s castle. Before Crow could convince himself it was someone else (a servant, a guard’s son), he took notice of the small, but definitely real, crown atop the other boy’s head. This was certainly the prince. He even matched Badger’s description; brown hair, bright blue eyes, and perpetually blushing cheeks. He was cute, too. (Crow, at that age, didn’t question such thoughts about other male’s attractiveness. He assumed all boys looked at other boys the same way he did.)
Once Crow was sure that this was the prince of England in front of him (just a few feet in front of him!), he somehow felt some sort of rush. He hated the royal family, but, somehow, this boy seemed… Kinder than the king and queen. Softer. This was confirmed when the prince plopped onto the dirty ground, and made a noise that sounded like some sort of animal noise that Crow couldn’t place. He only realized it was a rat noise when he saw a rat run up to the prince. He half-expected him to shoo it away, but the prince welcomed the small creature; picking it up in his hands, and bringing it closer to his face. In a sweet voice, the prince greeted the rat. “Hi, Toppy!”
The rat seemed to almost understand what the prince was saying, making a noise in response.
The prince giggled, and dug into his pocket, and pulled out a bit of cheese. “Look what I saved for you from dinner!” He held the cheese out, and the rat; Toppy was apparently the name he was given; began to chow down, gratefully.
Rats were filthy. Rats carried disease. Rats bit. Rats were what all rich, snobby people were afraid of.
The poor were rats.
But here the prince was, treating this small, filthy animal with kindness. Feeding it, talking to it.
Crow had almost forgotten where he was when the prince’s gaze shifted from Toppy, to Crow. It was then that Crow remembered that he was an outsider looking in; staring at the prince with his mouth opened stupidly, from outside the royal gate. The look didn’t hold disgust, or pity, or anything, really. Just a blank sort of curiosity. But even so, Crow felt his face go hot (humiliation, and perhaps something else; the prince’s eyes were nice, after all), and he naturally turned heel and booked it out of there, faster than the prince could say, “Wait!”
But, just before the castle was out of earshot, Crow heard a familiar voice; one of the guards who protected the royal gate.
“Prince Luke, what are you doing out here?”
Prince Luke.
While this isn’t folklore, the official post of this prompt list mentioned fairytales, which is mainly where the inspiration of this comes from! I have to say, I’m a sucker for royalty AUs, so this was a natural choice!
First Chapter | Masterpost (for more information) | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Crow never really had anything to do. Many people would think that someone who lived so close to the Triton’s castle would not only have to be rich, but constantly entertained. Many people had asked if he had even seen a member of the royal family before; as if someone so rich and uppity would ever go into the dirt of the outside. But, no. The Tritons mostly kept to themselves (why would they leave their cushy little castle when it had everything they needed?), and Crow was anything but rich. He lived by himself most of the time, as his mother worked long hours just to make sure neither of them starved. His father was… Not in the equation. And he couldn’t even stay at his measly, rickety old house, most of the time, as his mother forbade it. (They had been robbed too many times for his mother to leave him home alone with a sound mind.) Because of that, he spent what little time he didn’t use by trying to scrounge up money mostly loitering around, or walking, lost in thought.
So why did he keep coming back here? To the Triton’s palace? He couldn’t even go inside. He just sat at the castle gates, just out of sight of the guards…
He certainly wasn’t the King’s and Queen’s biggest fan; and why should he be, if they let him and his friends so far down? Let children; children like him; fall victim to starvation, illnesses, and class inequality? No, he couldn’t care less about the King and Queen. But, from what little he understood about the royal family, he knew the two of them had a son. They kept said son sheltered; heck, Crow didn’t even know the kid’s name. But Badger insisted he caught a glimpse of him once, through the castle gates, and said he was their age.
Was that why? Why Crow kept coming back here? To try and see the prince? Then what? Did some sort of stupid part of him think that the prince of England would so much as spare him, some poor kid, a second glance? Did an even stupider part hope they could talk? Maybe that the prince would be touched, and have his parents do something about how the poor were treated?
Stupid. It was stupid. There was no reason to be here.
Crow had just convinced himself of that, and turned to leave, when he saw something move in the royal yard. He stopped, and continued to look through the gapes in the gate. Just in case.
And, somehow, someway, his intuition was right. Out from behind the castle, a boy his age, in clothing so nice it looked unreal, walked into the front yard of the Triton’s castle. Before Crow could convince himself it was someone else (a servant, a guard’s son), he took notice of the small, but definitely real, crown atop the other boy’s head. This was certainly the prince. He even matched Badger’s description; brown hair, bright blue eyes, and perpetually blushing cheeks. He was cute, too. (Crow, at that age, didn’t question such thoughts about other male’s attractiveness. He assumed all boys looked at other boys the same way he did.)
Once Crow was sure that this was the prince of England in front of him (just a few feet in front of him!), he somehow felt some sort of rush. He hated the royal family, but, somehow, this boy seemed… Kinder than the king and queen. Softer. This was confirmed when the prince plopped onto the dirty ground, and made a noise that sounded like some sort of animal noise that Crow couldn’t place. He only realized it was a rat noise when he saw a rat run up to the prince. He half-expected him to shoo it away, but the prince welcomed the small creature; picking it up in his hands, and bringing it closer to his face. In a sweet voice, the prince greeted the rat. “Hi, Toppy!”
The rat seemed to almost understand what the prince was saying, making a noise in response.
The prince giggled, and dug into his pocket, and pulled out a bit of cheese. “Look what I saved for you from dinner!” He held the cheese out, and the rat; Toppy was apparently the name he was given; began to chow down, gratefully.
Rats were filthy. Rats carried disease. Rats bit. Rats were what all rich, snobby people were afraid of.
The poor were rats.
But here the prince was, treating this small, filthy animal with kindness. Feeding it, talking to it.
Crow had almost forgotten where he was when the prince’s gaze shifted from Toppy, to Crow. It was then that Crow remembered that he was an outsider looking in; staring at the prince with his mouth opened stupidly, from outside the royal gate. The look didn’t hold disgust, or pity, or anything, really. Just a blank sort of curiosity. But even so, Crow felt his face go hot (humiliation, and perhaps something else; the prince’s eyes were nice, after all), and he naturally turned heel and booked it out of there, faster than the prince could say, “Wait!”
But, just before the castle was out of earshot, Crow heard a familiar voice; one of the guards who protected the royal gate.
“Prince Luke, what are you doing out here?”
Prince Luke.
While this isn’t folklore, the official post of this prompt list mentioned fairytales, which is mainly where the inspiration of this comes from! I have to say, I’m a sucker for royalty AUs, so this was a natural choice!
