"I don't understand," Axel snarled. "Why hasn't he improved?!"

He had made a habit of visiting the boy since the night of his arrival; always alone, lest the servants think he was softening.

He had merely been curious at first. The prince had had nothing new to look at for several years, and here he could watch through the bars of the dungeon cell, if he wished.

But the boy's health didn't change, let alone improve. For some odd, unsettling reason, he never woke, no matter who or what attempted to rouse him. Not once, according to the servants, and when the prince decided to come himself, he saw no stirring. He sat as he had been propped, his back against the stone wall, his ankle shackled to it for good measure.

Despite the food and blanket brought to him, nothing changed. The boy rested there limply, pale where he was not covered with dirt and grime, his breathing unnatural, sickly. This was how the prince saw him this day, not a fortnight after he had been found.

"What is wrong with him?" Axel snapped, gripping the bars tightly. And where were his servants? Why weren't they tending to him? They had nothing else to do in this place!

"M-Master?"

The man growled at the sudden voice, turning to find a small, yellow quill in the doorway. She had a large, delicate white feather set atop her head, which blew back slightly from the breeze leaking into the tower. A tiny thing, as she had been in human form.

"What is it, Namine?"

She trembled a little, and her voice squeaked like a little mouse.

"I-I came to s-see if I-I could help, S- Sire!"

"Now you come to help?" he bellowed. "Where are the others?! Why isn't anyone here caring for him?!"

"We h-have been, M-Master! We have been u-up to see him everyday!" She shivered then, but not out of fear. "It's so cold here."

"Bring Kairi, Xion, and the others here at once! No one in this castle shall rest until he is well!"

"Y-Yes! Right away!"

Namine turned quickly and left, murmuring soft apologies. Axel returned to watching the boy for a while, glaring, as if his commanding gaze would force his will to reality. He remained that way, grumbling and pondering for what seemed an hour, until a familiar black kettle arrived in the tower. It was not quite the wave of helping hands he had been expecting.

"Where are the rest of them?!"

With an unusual irritability, Xion responded, "Master, having them all here won't do him any good."

"What do you mean?! He hasn't changed in the slightest and no one is here! Do something!" He didn't dare think of the witch's consequences if death and negligence wrestled this final chance from him.

"And what would you have us do, Sire?" she asked. "Few of us have 'hands' of any sort, so caring for him is difficult. He barely eats a thing we bring him, and a few thin blankets aren't going to keep him warm here. The elements are against us, Sire."

Axel looked at her briefly, taken aback.

"What are you saying?"

She shook from side to side, as if shaking her head.

"Donald is certain that the boy has pneumonia. That condition can be deadly. The longer he stays in this kind of environment, the sicker he will most likely get." She looked tiredly into the dungeon, grim eyes meeting the still, pale figure resting there.

"But if he is moved, he'll run away!" Axel snapped.

"Perhaps he wouldn't," she replied, softening a bit as she met his gaze again. "But it will be some time until he wakes, and even longer before he will be well enough to move on his own. Until then, we can take precautions in more comfortable quarters. We might have chains brought elsewhere, if you so desire, but regardless, they will have been useless if he dies here."

Axel paused, looking back into the small cell for a moment. He had never truly seen death, but he knew it came to all mortal men in due time, and was greatly feared in its many forms.

"Is it truly serious?"

Xion nodded firmly. "When one gets sick, the body does its best to fight off the disease and heal. But it also needs external care, warmth and food and other things. That boy's body is working hard, with little help from us. Can you see his hands?" Axel looked down and blinked. "See the blue color there, in his fingers? If we don't warm him up, they will become useless and have to be cut off."

Startled, the prince glanced at her harshly, appalled.

"Why didn't you cover them?!"

"We've done our best, Sire, but we can't do everything here. It would be easier to help him if he was lying down in a bed, somewhere warm and sealed. The dungeon is as bad a place as if we had left him on the doorstep."

Axel looked thoughtful then, his twisted features softening. The dungeon tower was cold and dreary, made even colder by wind and rain seeping in through the cracks. There were many cracks and holes as the place fell into disrepair, but Axel had had no real cause to come here in years.

"Fine. You may move him. Just make him well. All of your other duties are postponed until that time."

Xion smiled when the prince hurried to the cell.

"I may require your help, Sire. He is too heavy for me to carry."

Axel frowned at her briefly, then shook his head. He unlocked the chain around the boy's ankle and lifted him into his arms with surprising gentleness, though he grimaced at the dirt that came off on his hands and clothes. Germs were never meant to touch royal hands.

"Where...should I put him?"

Xion hummed, choosing to ignore her master's obvious fidgeting.

"Let's look at the East Wing and see what we can find."


After some searching, they found a room, albeit dusty and long unused, for the boy to use. A few servants set about cleaning it for them, removing the coating of dust it had gathered, and Xion suggested they give their guest a quick bath while they waited.

"Why must I do it?" Axel groaned, watching as the bathtub filled up, as servants in the forms of pails and buckets brought warm water from the kitchens.

The kettle raised an "eyebrow."

"Master, I have no hands."

"Then call someone who does!"

"You are the only one with human hands, Sire. As I said before, there is only so much we can do."

Finally, begrudgingly, Axel agreed. When the water filled up all the way, the bathtub settled itself down in the corner of the room and smiled at them. He was a kind fellow, good natured if a bit absent-minded and clumsy.

"Ready, Sire." Despite his daily beratings, he always greeted his master with a ready smile.

The prince snorted.

What followed proved to be a very strange experience for Axel. Undressing another as he was used to be undressed, at least when he was human. Most days, he tore his clothes in anger. Washing the boy, as he had always been washed.

Strangely, it didn't anger him to do so. His princely dignity (of which, he found, there was very little remaining) was not offended, though Axel was sure it should have been, because he was not meant to serve any but himself. He was the head of the land, after all. Royalty; perfection embodied in a mortal man.

But he recognized a difference in this act. All of those times, being dressed and pampered and waited upon, he had always been perfectly capable of caring for himself. It was only that, as a prince, servants were there to cater to him and do as he wished. They didn't wash and undress someone who was helpless, one who actually needed them.

This boy needed someone to help him. He was as helpless as an infant. He offered no gratitude as Axel washed him, but oddly enough, the prince didn't feel he needed it.

Axel was feeling almost...happy, despite this chore. He felt something stir in his heart as he saw the progress of his work surely enough. As the dirt fell away and clouded the water, the prince saw his guest transforming before his eyes. The boy's skin was even paler now in the light, but it looked smooth like porcelain, utterly unlike what he imagined peasants would look like. Didn't they toil in fields all day, in the heat of the sun?

When Axel touched his arm, he found that it was soft, thinly muscled. What did this child do in life that left him so delicate? Even as pampered as he was, Axel had not allowed himself to become weak or fragile. He looked bony and horrible now, but he had some strength in him yet. Much strength, considering.

Xion watched the scene with smiling eyes, guiding Axel when he looked lost or nervous.

"Shall we wash his hair, Sire?"

The prince blinked. "I...suppose," he said, his lost expression becoming gruff when he saw the kettle chuckle a little. "What's that look for?"

"Nothing, Sire. Now, where is that bottle?" She hopped around the tub for a moment, searching.

"Over there," the tub replied, using his eyes to point to the far side of the room.

"Ah. Thank you, Demyx." She hopped over and nudged the bottle, slowly but surely moving it to its proper place beside the tub. Watching her, the prince realized exactly what she meant about the lack of hands. Some servants could walk upright despite the absence of legs, but other than the coat rack, none of the objects had anything resembling helpful human appendages.

Did he take his own hands for granted? Gnarled though they were, they were still functioning and useful. He had never asked how the servants prepared his meals, or did any of their chores for that matter. He just expected things done.

"Here, Sire. Tilt his head back." He did as he was told, pouring water over the boy before lathering some gentle soap through his hair.

This, too, was quickly rewarded. Strands and curls that look so dim and dirty were restored, a beautiful wheat-like color replacing them. The boy's hair became softer and held fewer tangles, though Xion was sufficiently amused when Axel pulled a few brambles and leaves from the thicker mass of it.

All in all, the boy became much more pleasing to look at. He wasn't perfect by any means; too pale, freckles and scars here and there, a bit of fat in the cheeks and stomach. And yet, as Axel saw him and touched him, the prince found him striking, fascinating...

The blonde hummed from time to time, but still didn't stir, and his caretaker quietly tried to imagine what his voice really sounded like.

Who was he, and why had he come here? The forest was a dangerous place, and the castle was hidden deep within.

"Was there..." the prince began, coughing awkwardly when Xion looked at him. "Any clue to his identity?"

The girl blinked stupidly. "Not that I had seen."

"He was carrying a bag of herbs, I believe.

All three of them turned to see Kairi hopping forward, propelling herself by the edges of her spine. "We left them at the door. They'd be soggy, utterly useless by now."

"And?" Axel asked, his tone almost genuinely curious alone. "What does that mean?"

"It could mean just about anything," Xion interceded, twitching her spout-like nose. "He's certainly a peasant, but I can gauge no more than that fact."

Kairi nodded. "Nor can I. But what does it matter?"

"It doesn't!" Axel snapped, but his tone carried noticeably less of its usual ferocity. It was more defensive than angry.

The two objects exchanged a brief look.

"Is there any way I can help, Sire?"

"Is the room ready for him yet?"

"That is the very thing I came to tell you," she said with a smile. The prince huffed as she looked over his charge approvingly. "He looks much better, Sire. Much better indeed. You were very kind to attend to him so."

"I was..." he muttered back, his gaze falling upon the wall but not truly seeing it.

What an odd day this was turning into.

It became even odder than that soon after. Not two minutes after they secured the boy in room and bed, blank, milky blue eyes opened and fell upon the monstrous man above him.