Disclaimer: Don't own, yadda yadda. If I did, there'd be a nekkid!Roxas scene.

Author's Note: This. Is. SOOOOOOO incredibly AU. And, well, I guess I'm sorry about that xD This gets to be NC-17 later, by the way.

Votre Majestè

The tranquillity in the air was enough to calm even the most vivacious of children. The melodious twitter of birds had yet to die down from the break of morning, but they sang such delightful tunes that nobody had the heart to try and quieten them. Horses in their stalls stood about lazily, one foot resting on the tip of their hoof as they spread their weight across the others, and their eyes fluttered slowly without a point of focus. Even the mighty brutes of dogs in the security department were sprawled out on the floor, either sleeping or simply laying calmly with innocently calm eyes. The typically dubious rabbits mustered up the courage to linger on the grass, grazing leisurely, reaping the benefits of such a peaceful day. Such a morning was always one to be taken advantage of; the pale blue sky didn't contain a single cloud to speak of, the breeze was light and bordering on warm, and the sunshine weaselled its way into every corner it could reach. The extravagant garden played host to harmless bumblebees and butterflies, both of whom flittered from flower bud to flower bud. Outside, the day was one to be rivalled by the best. However, inside the palace, there was chaos in the bedroom of one of the young royals, and a shout that was nothing short of furious pierced the serenity like a knife.

"I DON'T GIVE A SOD WHOSE IT IS, JUST GET THAT BLOODY MONGREL OUT OF MY BEDROOM!"

Standing at the foot of his magnificent bed, his arms crossed and eyes narrowed, the prince bared his teeth in an incensed snarl. His nose wrinkled as he watched a handful of people futilely trying to seize an animal that could only be described as a white blur. It scampered about amongst the furniture, racing between chair legs and behind the drapes. Those who had been unfortunate enough to be called upon were making hasty grabs at it, some on their hands and knees, others darting around the room. Prince Roxas rolled his eyes, huffing angrily. This little rodent of a dog had been pestering him for nearly ten minutes, and he was astounded by how many staff members would be needed to simply capture it. Finally, the Chihuahua scurried towards the bed, presumably with the intention of hiding beneath it. However, the boy bent down sharply when it was within reach and grabbed it by the scruff of its neck. He stared at it with sheer loathing, growling at the small dog as it squirmed and whined in his hold. Roxas' eyes flashed dangerously as he looked back to the small group of men and women who were slowly forming a line in front of him. They bowed their heads apologetically, probably preparing themselves for the inevitable.

"I am ashamed to think that six people walked in here to catch this," He promptly held the dog out in front of him to show the staff, "and all six of you failed. I know they say that if you want a job done properly, you need to do it yourself, but this is just ridiculous. Your incompetence makes me question your value to this household." Roxas stepped towards them, eying them like they were all carriers of some revolting disease. He stopped in front of one of the more timid maids, thrusting the Chihuahua at her chest without a care of whether she managed to catch it or not. The woman fumbled, but succeeded in wrapping her arms around the little white dog awkwardly. "Take this rat outside and dispose of it." The prince spat, "If I see it anywhere near here again, then I'll personally put a bullet through its empty head, and you'll find that you will no longer be of assistance." He walked away, not sparing so much as a second glance at the bewildered housekeeper that he'd turned his back on. Approaching a separate room on the wall left of his bed, he entered his dressing room through the open sliding doors. There was a mumbling behind him, indicating that the palace servants were conversing over the task that had just been laid before them.

"Y-Your Highness?"

Although he didn't turn to face them, Prince Roxas stopped in his tracks as an acknowledgement. The voice sounded hesitant, like they were frightened to disclose their thoughts on the matter, but he could hear them drawing in a deep breath as they built up the courage to question his verdict.

"I do not mean to be bold, Young Prince, but perhaps it would be better if you were to rethink this decision." The person said. Judging by their voice, they were male. Roxas spun around on his heel, placing his hands on his hips.

"Why?" He snapped, lip curling.

"Well, what if it were your beloved dogs that were sentenced to death?"

"It's nothing less than an insult to imply that my purebreds are as much a nuisance as that mutt."

"But, Sire, Cotton is also purebred." The butler replied gently.

Roxas glared at the man, who merely watched him innocently, if not in fear.

The power he had over full-grown men was amazing, especially considering how he was still months away from his eighteenth birthday, and would barely be taller than five foot and three inches. And yet, it wasn't the size or age of the boy that worried people, it was his monstrous temper and aptitude for raising his voice. His English accent silhouetted his eloquence in a way that only the prim and proper families were taught, and the sight of such a boy with such a tongue often brought about surprised expressions from those within earshot. To look at him, Roxas Sinclair was no different than any other boy of seventeen, because he wasn't fond of the typical clothes that royalty wore; suits were not garments to be worn every day. His blonde hair was spiked in all sorts of directions, primarily up, and there was a long barbell that pierced the top of his left ear twice. Although he sounded just as royal as his blood, you wouldn't know it by the sight of him. However, no one in his immediate family really looked like the sovereigns they were, with the exception of his mother, who in turn did not act like one.

"Prince Roxas, maybe you would like to have a word with your sister before you declare Cotton's fate."

With a growl, Roxas stormed out of the large bedroom, gesturing for the maid with to dog to follow. He didn't check to make sure she did so, but he assumed she would; when he was in such a foul mood, no one dared to defy his demands, whether they were vocal or silent. After walking briskly down the long, wide hallway, which was lined with beautiful paintings and tapestries, he stopped outside a double door on the opposite side that his was on. Rapping his knuckles on the wood angrily, he didn't wait for it to be opened, and instead thrust it open. The shy maid trotted behind him as he entered the room, scowling. "RIKKU!" He shouted, turning his head left and right to look around, but it was seemingly empty. After a few seconds, a stout woman toddled out of the dressing room, which had curtains instead of doors, and stared at them curiously. Upon seeing the homicidal expression on the prince's youthfully handsome features, she shook her hands desperately and hurried back the way she'd come. Roxas approached her, and Rikku soon appeared.

"Roxy!" She chirped, grinning at him, "Do you wanna play tea party? Or we could paint or sumfin'?" The princess wasn't quite as articulate as her brother, but they shared an accent, among other things. Roxas and Rikku were fraternal twins, but the only really visible difference between them was their eyes. They both sported golden blonde locks, and – when Roxas showed it – a dazzling smile. However, Rikku had inherited her emerald eyes from an ancestor whose name could not be remembered by either of the twins, and Roxas had received his striking blue ones from both of his parents. They were both rather petite in build and height, but, if anything, Rikku didn't stand out from the other seventeen year olds as much as Roxas did; most boys his age were by far taller than he was. Disregarding the lengths of their hair, the other distinction could only be seen if you got close enough; Roxas had a small amount of freckles scattered over his nose that was only a shade darker than his regular complexion. Neither of them dressed like royalty, either. Rikku favoured a hairstyle that was so extravagant and intricate that it caught many eyes, and yet it suited her in a way that no one else would be able to pull off. She wore bright colours and pretty revealing clothes, despite how she wasn't the least bit promiscuous. Roxas, on the other hand, liked long sleeves or casual t-shirts, along with plain jeans and studded belts. Suits and gowns were met with scowls and looks of disgust.

"No, Rikku, I do not." Roxas hissed, "I would, however, like for you to keep your good-for-nothing guinea pig on a tight leash." He snatched Cotton from the maid, tossing her to his sister carelessly, before turning on his heel and beginning to walk away. Rikku gasped, catching her Chihuahua just in time, and frowned at the male's back.

"Ur tayn! E lyh'd pameaja oui, Nuqyc!" She called angrily, shaking a finger at Roxas while holding Cotton in one arm. Upon hearing the foreign language, the prince looked over his shoulder at her, glaring. He hated it when she spoke Al Bhed, because he couldn't understand it. She'd learnt it from someone in the family a long time ago, but Roxas hadn't been interested, so he didn't bother to follow suit. It was a silly language that was based off English anyway, and what was the point of taking the time to learn it when barely anyone knew it even existed?

"Are you aware that you sound like a lunatic when you speak?" He said evenly, a cruel glint in his eyes. Rikku looked kind of hurt, her eyebrows knitted together sadly as a small frown appeared on her lips. It looked odd to see his sister frown; he was so used to her delighted beam and that sheer cheer that she radiated. Dismissing the flicker of guilt that had briefly coursed through him, Roxas turned away from her again and continued on his way out.

"… Oui'na zicd y pek sayhea." The girl mumbled, cuddling the little dog for comfort. Cotton whined in her arms, picking up on her master's feelings. Roxas ignored her sternly, walking through the door and leaving her to pick herself back up again, which she would. He knew his sister well – it was kind of inevitable – and so he was certain that she'd forget about their little encounter entirely in a matter of five to ten minutes.

"Come along, Maid." He called from outside, and the woman who had been holding the Chihuahua earlier scampered after him, perhaps worried that he might yell at her for dawdling. She must have been at least six inches taller than him, looked to have more strength, and was probably in her mid-twenties.

And yet, regardless of any of this, Roxas still had her under his thumb.

"There you are!"

"Here I am."

"A little birdie told me that somebody was kind of grumpy today."

"You're little birdie has quite the habit of stating the obvious."

Roxas' mother put her hands on her hips, giving him a soft, but disapproving look. She had lively blue eyes, full of spirit and youth, and kind features. What stood out most about her, however, was her vibrant red hair. What wasn't tied back by a ribbon fell in waves over her shoulders, her bouncy fringe side-swept but well away from her eyes. The twins had quite clearly gotten their blonde hair from their father, even if his was notably lighter. Ariel sauntered over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders; she, like many others, was also taller than him. "Do you have to be so cranky?" She sighed, hugging him loosely.

"Yes, I do. If people weren't such asinine hillbillies, then perhaps I could answer that question differently." Roxas replied, "However, as it stands, they are."

"Ah, I see. It's not your fault, then?"

"You catch on quickly."

"Thanks." Ariel smiled at him, stroking his cheek lovingly. The boy wriggled out of her embrace, stumbling backwards slightly, eliciting a giggle from his mother, who didn't even attempt to hide it behind her hand or anything of the sort. He frowned and poked his tongue out at her. She just waved a hand at him dismissively and rolled her eyes with a smile. "Oh, you wet blanket. Don't you ever just have fu– Hey!" She stopped mid-sentence to start a new one, her face lighting up with excitement, "You're sister and I are going to the coast today! We'll be spending a couple of nights there. Would you like to come?" Roxas shook his head. "Come on, sweetheart! It'll be fun! The villa is right at the edge of the beach, so the ocean is just in front of it. We can go swimming whenever we like!" Again, Roxas declined the offer. "Well, you'll have to stay here all on your own then, Mr. Stick-In-The-Mud." Ariel huffed, "Your father won't be home until Tuesday."

Roxas' dad, Luxord, went away quite often. He didn't always leave England, but he wasn't at home very much. It didn't bother the boy, really, because he was never alone. His mother easily compensated for his father's absence, and Rikku liked to bother him more than he appreciated, but there was also all the staff that worked around the place. Admittedly, he didn't treat them very well, but they were still loyal through and through, because he had his odd moments of true compassion. Roxas was known to be a total dickhead, one with punctuating words and elegantly cruel tones, but every now and then people saw a glimpse of a boy with a heart. It was easy to assume that he didn't have one at all, judging by his general hostility, but it was there somewhere.

"You sure you don't want to come?" Ariel asked, stepping towards him and running a hand through his spiky hair. He ducked out from under it, scowling. She just sighed, taking the action as a 'no', and let her arms drop to her sides. "Suit yourself. We'll be out of your hair by three o'clock this afternoon." The young woman sighed, "And Roxas?"

"Yes?"

"Please be nice to everyone." She watched him for a few moments, and he watched her. The silence was longer than it should have been. Finally, Roxas turned his back on her and walked away, smirking over his shoulder.

"I make no promises."

The very best thing about having an estate in the country was the freedom you were granted. There weren't any paparazzi to bother them, or tourists to snap pictures of their home, or anything that could invade their privacy. Security around the large property kept it that way. It was also this privacy, this safety, which allowed the royal family to wander about the grounds as they pleased. So, after Ariel and Rikku Sinclair had left for the seaside getaway home, the teenage prince opted to pay a visit to the stables. He owned a couple of horses, treasured ones at that, and so he walked there almost every day. As he wandered along the pebbled path, scuffing the front of his black converse shoes against the ground, and his gaze downcast, the sound of booming barks filled his ears. Roxas didn't look up, since he knew that it was only his two dogs playing whilst they followed him. Suddenly, something collided with the back of his legs, knocking him over. Blinking vacantly, he found himself on his back, staring up at the clear sky. The thing that had bowled him over approached him slowly, standing over him.

"Hello, Kaiser." Roxas sighed.

Kaiser was a Great Dane, as was the other dog, and he was taller than his master when he stood on his hind legs. His coat was a glossy shade of black, with a white muzzle and chest, and his floppy ears were perked forward curiously. He had a foot on either side of the blonde's head, his hind legs straddling his upper thighs. Those dark, goofy eyes stared down at him. Kaiser's attention was averted upon hearing the other dog bark, and he bounded away. Roxas' other dog was named Shogun, and he was a Harlequin Great Dane. His fur was primarily white, but had charcoal splodges scattered over him at random. The pair raced around, careful not to stray too far from their owner, who was pushing himself back onto his feet. He called to them; they settled down and trotted along in front of him, seeming to know where he was going.

When Roxas finally reached the large wooden door that granted entrance to the stables, he found that there was no one there. A little confused, but mostly annoyed, he wandered between the stalls. He noticed his sister's inky black Andalusian, but he didn't stop to watch her roll in the sawdust on the floor of her enclosure. There was a male yearling further down the aisle, but it was a young Appaloosa who also belonged to Rikku. The farthest end of the stables was where the working horses were, since they were used for odd jobs around the estate. The two white Shires pulled the carriage that his parents loved to ride in so much, and which he hated, and also helped to turn the dirt in the large garden whenever it was being redone. Sometimes his mother would ask to ride them, since they were so placid and beautiful, and other times the servants would take them out for a nice long run. There were supposedly two other horses down there, but Roxas had never seen them, because he never went down that far. His two horses were located in the middle of the stables, so he had no need to go any further.

His blue gaze immediately found the equine closest to him, a stocky bay gelding with kind eyes. Zeus was a very handsome Warmblood, except he was exceptionally lazy. He was eleven years old and very talented, but it took a lot to motivate him. Still, he was extraordinarily patient and understanding, and would do his best to guess what you were after in times of confusion. Roxas smiled, stroking Zeus' nose lovingly. He was solid brown in colour, but with black the reached past his knees and faded, to match his mane and tail. The horse blinked at his owner calmly, silent. He took slow steps backwards, lifted his head from over the gate, and turned his backside to him so he could drink the water in the trough on the other side. Roxas was already moving on by then, however, and he grinned upon hearing the delighted whinny coming from the stall a little way down.

"I'm coming, boy; don't fret."

A striking Arabian was practically hopping on the spot, throwing his head up and down and emitting shrill neighs. His white coat was pure; save for the few bits of straw and sawdust that had stuck to it, telltale signs that he'd been rolling around, and the end of his nose was slightly grey. He stretched his neck over the gate, his dark eyes wide, nostrils flared. Roxas laughed gently, clasping both hands around the horse's snout. He petted him quietly, calming him down. "Oh, Rajah, what am I to do with you, you silly thing?" He purred, fingering at the little patch of pink on the Arabian's nose. Rajah pressed himself into the hand, rubbing his head up and down to scratch himself. Roxas was grinning; he loved this horse more than anything else he had.

More than anything else he probably ever would have.

Kaiser and Shogun were sniffing around the empty stalls, sometimes walking into the ones that were open. It was uncertain as to why there were so many stables in this building, since there were probably only eight horses, but Roxas only took this as a sign that he could potentially own many more. However, he didn't particularly want anymore; Zeus and Rajah were all he needed. Even still, as much as he loved Zeus, the Arabian was by far his favourite. Rajah had such character, and was ever so loving, and amazing to ride. He moved like the embodiment of elegance, and was capable of jumping over ninety centimetres. Admittedly, he could get a little excited, but his youthful spirit was what made him so easy to adore.

"Hmm," Roxas looked around expectantly, but there was no one besides the horses and his two dogs, "it seems as though I won't get the chance to take you out today, Raj, because I don't know where they keep your tack." It was true; even though he owned the horses, and he looked after them on his own, he didn't put anything away or take them out. Because of this, he didn't know where things were. He always called upon the stable boy, or whoever was around, to fetch him his desired horse's belongings. "Be sure to remind me to fire someone for this, okay?" The prince said quietly to a grumbling Arabian. He stroked the curve of his cheek, smiling softly.

Calling upon the two Danes, Roxas said goodbye to Zeus and Rajah, then left the stables, glowing with anger at the absence of staff.

Stupid, stupid!

That bloody dog!

Roxas had had to go all the way to the servant's quarters just to get assistance, because it was late at night and everyone was sleeping, since he was the only Sinclair in the palace now that his mother and sister had left. He threw open the door to the staff kitchen, having noticed that the light was on, and his eyes narrowed at the young man sitting at the table. The servant, who barely looked older than the prince, looked up in surprise. Roxas pointed a finger at him, his other hand cupped over his nose and mouth as if he was trying not to breath in the air here. He spoke, but it was muffled, and so it sounded more like a strangled moan. However, the boy seemed to get the point, because Roxas was gesturing him over. He had brown hair that was spiked all over the place, and glittering blue eyes.

He'd clearly been eating cereal or something, because he almost choked on what was in his mouth, and then dropped his spoon in the bowl and hastily got to his feet. It wasn't until he got close that Prince Roxas realised the boy was laughing.

"What are you laughing at?!" He shouted from behind his hand. The other shook his head and waved a hand, trying to restrain his snickers but failing miserably.

"Nothing, Sir. Let me have a look." He replied, gently taking the blonde's hand away from his face. Once it was gone, it revealed a stream of scarlet liquid trailing from his nose, over his lips and chin. "Oh my God, you're dying!" He gasped, taking Roxas' jaw in both his hands. The younger male jumped, startled by the declaration. After a couple moments, he realised that this idiot was joking. The nerve of him!

"That was not funny!" Roxas protested, trying to wrench himself free of the servant's grip.

"Maybe not to you. Calm down; it's just a nosebleed." He smirked, "Here, let's get you cleaned up."

The other guided him to the chair he'd been sitting in, and then promptly pushed him down into it. Once Roxas was seated, he went to the sink and ran a clean cloth under it, then returned after magically conjuring an icepack seemingly from out of nowhere. He crouched down in front of the seventeen-year-old, and reached up to make him bend forward a little, then placed the cold pack on the back of his neck. He wiped away the blood that was on his face, and then held the rag over his nose gently. "Pinch the bridge a little." He said, and Roxas obliged.

"Who are you?" The prince asked, his voice sounding a little awkward because of the pressure on his nose and the cloth that was falling in front of his mouth.

"Sora."

"Sora?"

"Yep. Sora Daniels."

"And why are you here?"

Sora smiled at him, still holding the small towel in position. "I'm a stable-boy. I look after Princess Rikku's horses. Yours too, when you're not able to." He answered. Roxas' eyes narrowed. Where had he been this afternoon, then? However, before he got the chance to ask, Sora spoke again.

"Care to tell me what happened?" He asked, standing up a little and dragging a chair over; it was probably getting uncomfortable crouching like that. He still hadn't dropped his hand.

"That repulsive little rodent that my sister calls a pet tripped me up!" Roxas replied, momentarily forgetting about the lack of help in the stables, "And so I fell on the stairs."

"Fuck. Ouch."

"You don't say?"

"No, actually, I did say. Didn't you hear me?"

Roxas stared at him, frowning. Didn't he know who he was talking to?

"Why'd you come all the way down here, anyway?" Sora continued. He didn't seem to be aware that he wasn't speaking to the prince in the way that most staff did. A faint blush appeared on the blonde's cheeks, but not answer was given. "… Don't you know how to treat a blood nose?" He went on. Gritting his teeth, Roxas frowned and looked away. He didn't need to answer such trivial questions; it was none of this stable boy's business. So what if he didn't? … He didn't know how to do a lot of things like this; somebody had always done it for him.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Sora tilted the prince's head up slightly – it had been tipped forward to help the blood flow – and removed the cloth a little. He examined it for a moment, before folding it quickly and pressing a clean side to his nose again. Obviously, it was still bleeding.

"Why weren't you at the stables today?" Roxas asked, feeling the anger from before rise inside him. If that was Sora's job, why hadn't he done it? And where had everyone else been?

"Oh. I didn't know you were there." Came the reply, "Sorry. We were all anxious to get the update on the staff mare; she's pregnant. She's due soon, you see, so we were just curious."

"You should have been doing your job!"

"I was." Sora laughed, "I had to help. And the others were either off duty, or were only there because one of the Shires is lame." Roxas sighed. Silence followed once more.

"How old are you?" The prince asked, his tone laced with boredom.

"Nineteen."

"Really? Why are you working here?"

"Job experience?" He shrugged, "I don't know. I just like it."

"You don't sound like you're from England …" Roxas continued, trying to pass time.

"That'd be because I'm not. I'm from America."

"How long have you been here for?"

"…"

"Well?"

"Is this an interrogation?" Sora grinned playfully, checking the nosebleed again.

"Just answer the question, won't you?" He sighed.

"About a year?"

Roxas had never noticed him before, which was odd considering how often he went to the stables. Then again, he rarely paid much attention to the people there, just the horses.

Sora's hand pulled away after wiping the last of the blood away, and he stood up to go clean the rag. "I think you'll live, Your Highness." He teased, smiling over his shoulder at him. Roxas shook his head in disbelief; this boy was such an idiot. He got to his feet and tossed the ice pack on the table.

"Thank-you, Suri."

"Sora." He laughed, turning to face him and putting his hands on his hips, the rag in the basin. Roxas waved a hand dismissively.

"Whatever." He called as he left. After shutting the door behind him, he could hear Sora chuckling on the other side, calling him silly or something to that effect.