Prince Hamish Lionel Jakob Christian was born the fourth and youngest son of The Royal Family of Liechtenstein. He was the younger brother to Crown Prince Leon Alec Carlo Christian, Prince Lukas Timo Simon Christian, and Prince Livio Alexandros Matteo Christian. Everyone in the principality knew this, their wonderful Royal Family that could never do anything wrong in their eyes.
So it created an uproar when their youngest Prince was kidnapped right under their noses. Little Prince Hamish was stolen away in the dead of night, the barely turned seven year old had never left the castle grounds before. His parents, Queen Aylin and King Andiron were horrified and devastated. Crown Prince Leon, Prince Lukas and Prince Livio never gave up on their younger brother, they and their parents would always search for Prince Hamish in the years to come.
-Hamish's POV-
He had been asleep when they had come, curled up in his bed right after Lukas had tucked him in, Leon usually did it but Leon had been mad at him that day. He had just wanted to help, he hadn't meant to make his oldest brother that angry...
Hamish had wanted to help him with his chores around the castle, he hadn't realized how annoying it would be for the sixteen year old to drag his little seven year old brother around. He had thought it would be fun, but he was wrong. He just ended up embarrassing his brother in front of these girls he was trying to impress.
Hamish had fallen backwards and toppled into the mud while trying to help Leon and those girls had just laughed at him. It made him feel terrible, so he had started to cry. Leon had spun around and started yelling at them, but after they left he shoved Hamish back into the mud he'd finally climbed out.
Leon began to yell at Hamish then. He still remembered the words, they were nasty and he remembered wanting to cry again.
"You bumbling little idiot! Are you really that stupid?! Gahhhh! Why do you have to 'help' me all the time! I was just fine before you came!"
Leon had yelled and Hamish wasn't just going to let that go lying down so he had angrily screamed back.
"Fine then, you big meanie! Go get a new little brother! See if I care!"
He had cried and spun around to run back into the tower, He remembered how Leon had called after him but he hadn't answered. Leon had just made him feel so bad! But when he heard the muffled shouts and heavy footfalls as his window opened, he couldn't help but whimper for Leon inside his head, he wanted his big brother.
So when he felt something cover his face he screamed for Leon, for Lukas, for Livio, for Mutti, for Vati but nobody came, just the sickly sweet voice of one of the men who covered his face. They were very strong, that much was easy to feel as they tied him up, he kicked and flailed, struggling as hard as he could but they were too strong.
They scooped him up and threw him over one shoulder, cutting his arm shallowly and letting his blood drip onto his sheets.
"Brothers! Mother! Father!"
He shrieked but they pressed cloth into his mouth to muffle his cries, it began to taste like salt as his tears soaked the cloth, he felt like he was going to choke and he still couldn't see anything!
"Shut up, O'mighty prince!"
The sickly sweet voice purred as they climbed out of his window, he felt the wind whip against his scantily clad body, his pajamas offered no protection against the chilly autumn wind. Finally he gasped as he was thrown into a vehicle of some kind. He cried when he felt the chaffing of the rope that was tightly wrapped around his wrists and ankles.
They threw something in the back with him and it hit him in the head, whatever it was, it was hard and was cold. He ran his hands over the object and his breath hitched as he realized the familiar shape of a gun, like the ones his brothers and the guards used. He quickly dropped the thing like it was a hot poker, he whimpered and curled over, his small body wracking with heavy sobs.
-SmallTimeSkip-
The next time Hamish awoke, he was being shaken, then when he decided to stay quiet, he was slapped, hard. He cried out loudly and the sickly sweet voice was back.
"Wake up, brat!"
The voice snapped as he felt the cloth being taken out of his mouth, then he blinked fiercely as the blindfold was too. The fresh sunlight burned his eyes and he whimpered only to receive another harsh slap.
"Walk, boy!"
Hamish looked up in confusion, to finally realize where he was and who his captors were. He was outside an airport and his captors were two angry looking men, the one with the sickly sweet voice had dark blond hair and angry blue eyes, the other had dark skin and matching hair and eyes. The quiet dark skinned one threw a long jacket at him and the one with the sickly sweet voice ordered him to put it on.
Hamish did everything they told him to and soon they were out of the van and walking into the airport. Hamish watched everything with wide, innocent eyes but neither of the men let him speak, they told the officers that he was mute. They believed them and with falsified documents, they let them on the plane.
The plane, Hamish realized was heading for London, England. A place Hamish had only learned about in studies. He had met their Queen once, she had waved at him and he had waved back shyly from behind Leon's leg. They had been at a United Nation Monarch ball, he thought.
But before he could think for too long, the man with the sickle sweet voice picked him up and carried him to his seat. Hamish stuck his thumb in his mouth, he hadn't done that for years but he really wanted the comfort. He watched the world from outside the window, he watched his country disappear into the distance.
He cried silently, a small hand resting on the tiny airplane window. For all he knew, this could be the last time he ever saw his home country again. That's how he fell asleep, his head resting on his hand and the cold interior of the window.
-NightTimeSkip-
Hamish woke up, with his head resting on the shoulder of the quiet dark skinned man. They were walking outside of the airport, when he had an idea.
"I need to pee!"
He whined, and the sickly sweet voiced man who had been walking in front of them rolled his eyes and pointed to a bush on the side of the sidewalk they were walking on. The quiet dark skinned man just shook his head and set Hamish on his feet. The moment all hands were off of him, he ran as fast as his small legs would allow him.
He heard the surprised yell from the sickly sweet voiced man but he didn't care, he used the abundance of people on the street to his advantage. Ducking around their feet and under their legs, running as fast as he could.
But he was so confused, everything was in a language he couldn't read. He assumed it was English. He knew how to speak English, not very well, but he knew how. Tutor John had taught him, along with German, Latin and Spanish.
Finally he wasn't paying attention and slammed into the legs of a tall dark haired man with pale skin and kind green eyes, the man pushed his spectacles up his nose and quirked his head at Hamish.
"Are you alright, son?"
The man asked and Hamish clung to his leg, shaking. The man looked confused, but scooped Hamish off the ground anyway.
"How about I take you back to my place for a moment before we find your parents?"
The man asked and Hamish nodded, relief showing on his face.
"I'm called George Watson."
He said, happily and prompted Hamish to say his name, but he was at a loss. Should he say his real name? If he did the bad men could find him! Hamish bit his lip and looked at the man, all he could see was wisdom like Tutor John in his eyes.
"John Hamish."
Hamish whispered, and George smiled at the child.
"No last name?"
He asked and Hamish shook his head, then rested it on George's shoulder. As the man walked through the crowded streets, to his flat.
