So, this is something that I wrote for disney_kink. I decided to post it here, as this is a platform I'm more familiar with. The prompt was:

Fandom: uh classic disney?
Pairing: Mickey/Donald
Prompt: Fluffy bromance plz!

If the OP happens to be reading this, you never replied to my question, so I went ahead and chose The Prince and the Pauper as my setting. It…kind of spun out of control. And it's more Donald centric than bromance centric, but I hope that's all right with you.

This is a chapter story and will be updated daily.

Anyways, on to the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Only the story.

They never really saw eye to eye, but in the end, no one can deny the fact that they grew up together.

The Prince and His Valet

i.

"How's the boy?"

"He's not in any physical pain, sire. But mentally…I can only hope for the best."

The King sighed. He knew it was his fault that this young lad had to suffer this fate. He could have…should have prevented that tragedy from happening. There were signs all over the place, whispers of the feud rising to a dangerous level, but he had ignored them and assumed that the two families would find a way to compromise, like they had always done for the past hundred years.

Now, the King faced the consequences as he stared into the eyes of the lone survivor of the Duck Family.

The young duckling shook even with the thick blankets covering him. The Captain of the Guard had been the one to find and bring him to the palace, having found him among the ruins of what used to be the Castle of Duke Duck. They tried to find out which branch of the family the duckling was from, but to their surprise, they couldn't. The King could only guess that he was the illegitimate child of Quackmore (there had been rumors, of the young Duke Duck secretly courting a girl of common background against his family's wishes), and had only appeared at the castle that day perhaps by chance, or maybe Quackmore finally decided to welcome the boy and the poor maiden that was his mother into the family. Whichever it was, it was likely that the duckling had never lived even a day as a noble.

It was probably for the best that he hadn't.

The Captain reported that he found the five-year-old lad crying his throat sore for his mother in the rubbles. The boy hadn't uttered a word since.

"Do you think you can help him?" He asked the doctor. The doctor sighed. "It depends on the boy, really. If he doesn't have any will to live on…there is only so much that I can do for him."

The King sighed again as he watched the boy before him tremble. He reached out a hand, intending to comfort the lad, but felt something rip inside to him when the duckling flinched away from him before he was within even one inch of him.

"Sire, you have to know that it's not your fault," the voice that had up to that moment stayed silent spoke up. The King gave a dry laugh. "Who are you kidding, Horace? You know full well that I could've prevented this from happening."

"Yes, but dwelling on what-if's and what-could-have-been's will never help the situation we have at hand. It's best if you can forgive yourself enough to help this boy. Sire." The "sire" was added almost as an afterthought. The King looked at the man. Horace was young, but he was wise beyond his years. The King was glad that he had been appointed as the Royal Adviser and instructor to the Prince. He chuckled. "Always looking at the bigger picture, are we?"

"It is my duty, sire."

The King smiled at that. "Thank you, Horace."

Then he knelt beside the bed where the boy sat, and ignored the twinge of hurt when the duckling flinched away from him again. "Hello, my fine lad. How are we doing today?"

The boy whimpered in response.

"Can you tell me your name, son?" The King tried again, knowing that he had to be patient. When the boy still didn't answer, he smiled. "You don't have to be shy. Here, what about this? We'll trade! I'll give you my name, and you'll tell me yours, alright?"

It took a while, but the boy slowly nodded. The King smiled brightly. "My name is Henry. Can I have your name?"

"D-d-donald," The duckling finally answered with his voice shaking and raspy. Then he cleared his throat and tried again. "My name is Donald Duck."

"Well, Donald, I'm terribly sorry for what happened to you." The King said softly. He almost regretted saying it, as the duckling immediately turned frigid with trembles again. He quickly pulled Donald into an embrace. "But you're safe now, and I promise you, I'll never let something like that happen to you again. Not ever."

He felt the boy's tense muscles relax against him, and slowly, a sob escaped his throat.

The King smiled gently and rubbed smooth circles into the boy's back. "There, there. It's alright now. Everything's going to be fine. Just let it out."

He was sure that Horace was watching the scene with a smile. It's not every day that you see a king comforting a young commoner who was bawling into his shoulder. Though he knew that, one way or another, he'll end up letting the young adviser taking care of the boy, but he found himself not disliking the notion all that much. Donald needed love and care, and the King knew Horace will at least be able to bring him the latter.

To be continued…

So this is it for now. It's more of a prologue than anything, and it's my take on how Donald got into the castle. And if you haven't noticed, I took the liberty to tweak with their ages a little here.

The Prince will appear in the next chapter.

~ruth~