Author's Note: I have no clue where this came from. I've always wanted to do a royalty fic, and depending on the type of reaction this gets, I may expand.
I used lyrics from the song Goodnight Moon by Go Radio. If you haven't heard it, go listen. It's amazing.
I should be updating GGCYD soon, maybe tomorrow. HitTWF may be a week or so tho. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, then go to my author's page and explore my fics! Also drop me a line on tumblr. I need some feedback from you people!
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
He always pretended as though he didn't know what he was doing.
Skin to skin, lips dragged up bone.
He could rip her apart if he wanted too.
His biggest fear was being stripped.
Stripped of his power, his dignity.
His nobility.
Not so much the title. That he could do without.
She had always said he deserved better.
Mere children playing in the yard, she had known.
Before power plays and broken hearts got the best of them, they had each other.
Let's go, she had said. Run away together.
Where would we go? He laughingly replied. There's no where they won't be able to find us.
Fifteen years later and they're still echoing the same song, a soundtrack of children weaving sunflowers in their hair.
23 and not a care in the world.
24 with a dead father and two comatose brothers.
A lot can change a person.
It wasn't easy.
People looked at her as if she were a common slut like her mother.
She was still a lady.
She still had worth.
She still had him.
Except she didn't.
Not anymore.
After...
Now, after.
They could barely look at the other.
You're all that I can think about.
He whispered.
You're all that I can dream about.
Nothing ever works.
Look at yourself.
Look at your surroundings.
Is everything working?
Is everything okay?
Tell me that nothing has gone to pieces.
That everything is alright.
I can't.
He marries her.
In a beautiful ceremony.
She would know, she was maid of honor.
Maid.
Made.
What's the difference, really?
The difference becomes clear when her bed is no longer warm.
It's cold at night, with no one to soothe her.
Goodnight moon.
He comes two weeks later, belly heavy with wine and regret.
He doesn't notice the tears streaming down her cheeks.
She pretends not to notice the ones wetting his.
I won't be a whore.
He just laughs.
Your wife must miss you.
She is a queen. She knows how to take care of herself.
In the end, nothing ever works out the way it is supposed to.
The wrong woman falls in love with the wrong man.
Ashes to ashes.
He comes to see her for the last time the day his heir takes his first breath.
They both know.
Neither can say the words.
I'm leaving.
She can't stand to look at him.
Okay.
He can't look at him either.
So goodnight moon,
And goodnight you.
You're all that I can think about.
Dust to dust.
AN: So yeah, that was vague and annoying and had the distinct "I wrote this at 2 am" vibe going. Roll with it.
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