Disclaimer: I do not own anything...

SPOILER ALERT: There are spoilers for season 3 in here. So be warned!

(This is going to be an eventual Brakayla story, so yeah...)

Chapter 1: Taken

Brady placed the ring and the envelope with his goodbye to his brother on his bed before grabbing his bags and his guitar case and leaving the room. He refused to allow himself to look back. If he did, if he so much as caught a glimpse of his sleeping twin brother, he would never leave. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to do it, but he needed to leave if he ever was going to grow up.

Silently, the runaway king moved through the castle, amazingly not bumping into anything or breaking anything on the way to the throne room. Brady came to a stop next to the throne that he shared with his brother. Setting down one of his bags, he ran his hand over the chair's arm. He let out a rueful sigh before smiling wearily as he remembered the times he spent in the room. "I can't do it," he murmured, turning on his heel. He began to make his way back to his room when a hand clamped over his mouth and he felt a sharp, cold pain on his neck. Moments later he was out cold.

Groaning, Brady fluttered his eyes open but all he could see was black. There was a throbbing in his head and his body ached all over. Struggling, he was able to sit up as he slowly regained his eyesight. Blinking rapidly, his eyes got used to the light and he was able to see that he was in the middle of the jungle.

"WOAH," Brady breathed, confused. "Where the heck AM I?" Standing up, he stretched out his limbs. Trying to think about what he was doing before everything went black, Brady scrunched up his face and narrowed his eyes. Then it hit him. He was leaving the castle. Oh god, he left the castle. He actually left! Brady stomped his foot on the ground, "This is not what I wanted!"

"Isn't it?" Brady whipped around to see a blonde girl leaning against the tree.

Brady squinted his eyes, "I'm torn. I don't know if I should flirt with your or be scared of you." He flashed her a charming smile.

"The second one would do," she smirked before throwing his guitar case at him which hit him hard and knocked him to the ground. She raised an eyebrow but walked over and stood over him. "Wow. And you're one of the Kings of Legend?"

"Ugh," Brady grunted in pain. "You caught me off guard. Who the heck are you?"

She kneeled down and looked at him with amusement. "You can call me Charlotte."

"Brady, King Brady," Brady replied offering his hand and attempting to flip his hair which he found was too painful to do.

"Nice to meet you, King," she grinned before taking his hand and yanking him up.

"Strength, I like that in a woman," Brady grinned flirtatiously. His smile jerked into a frown as he remembered the strongest and prettiest woman he'd ever met. "Mikayla," he muttered under his breath. "I have to get back to the castle. They'll be worried when they find out that I'm missing."

Charlotte scowled at him before reaching for her dagger that Brady just noticed was fastened to her belt. She leaned into Brady and pressed the dagger against his shoulder blade, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to get the message across, "I'm sorry, my King, I can't let you do that. I need you."

"Okay, I'm really scared of you right now!" Brady whispered meekly. "Don't hurt me, crazy lady!"

"I'm not going to hurt you," Charlotte retracted her knife, "I said that I need you. You're the only one who can help me."

Brady rubbed his shoulder where the dagger had been and looked at the girl before him with confusion, "Look, lady, I have people who help me. I don't see how I can help you. I especially can't help you alone. If Boomer was here—"

Shaking her head, the blonde cut him off, "This is job that needs to be done by you and you alone. You can't rely on your brother for this."

Sighing, Brady pulled a hand through his hair, exasperated. He looked around him for an escape but there really was none. Searching his mind for some excuse, he couldn't find the right words to say what he was feeling. He turned back to her with sad eyes, "I'm sorry, I'm not the guy you're looking for." He turned to leave when his head hit a low branch, knocking him out.

"That's one way to take him," Charlotte commented, shrugging to herself. "I hope the priests were right about him."

Charlotte entered the small hut where Brady lay, still unconscious with some help from the sleeping potion she injected into him after the fifth time that he woke up and demanded where she was taking him. She sat down on the floor and brought out her dagger and small piece of porcelain. With delicate care and precision, she began to sharpen her blade. Her entire attention was so much into her sharpening that she didn't notice that Brady was waking up. That is until he screamed like a little girl.

"Don't hurt me, crazy lady!" Brady screamed for the tenth time since he met her as he put his hands up in front of his face. She rolled her eyes as she put her dagger back in its sheath and stood up. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she pushed him back down onto the bed.

"Rest, you'll need it. You have a long day in front of you," Charlotte explained as she poured a black liquid into a cup and handed it to him. "Drink this."

"I don't want your magic potion," he growled, his eyes squinted as he knocked the cup out of her hands.

"That was coffee," Charlotte crossed her arms, her voice was flat.

"Oh," Brady offered a sheepish grin. "Sorry." He sat up and pulled his legs over the edge of the bed and onto the ground. He buried his face in his hands. "I can't be here right now. I need to get back to Boomer and Mikayla and Mason. And Lanny…Oh my god, LANNY! He's probably lost without me!"

"Yeah, I doubt that," Charlotte mumbled under her breath, well aware of the kings' cousin who had a well known reputation for being willing to do anything to get the throne, including eliminating his cousins.

"What was that?" Brady inquired, having not heard what she said.

"Nothing," she lied giving him a fake, bright smile instead. "Now get up and get dressed. You have training to get to."

"Training for what?" Brady inquired as he stood up and stretched out his limbs. He walked forward but tripped and stumbled forward.

"You'll find out later," Charlotte watched him with worry in her eyes, doubting if she had grabbed the right king.

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