"Well?"
"I'm sorry sir."
Leon sighed heavily.
How long have we been at this?
He cringed as he realized it had been three days since anyone had seen Francis and they were approaching the fourth day. It wasn't technically day four yet, since they had gotten up before the sun to keep up the search. Once they had confirmed that he was nowhere in the city, they had been charting the shipwrecks in the area in search of him. Nothing was found; however, it seemed that Francis had gone through the wreckage and taken some of the objects. They at least knew where he had been.
And yet, there was no sign of the prince. If Leon had not been worried when Francis was found around the castle at first, he was now very distraught that his son had been missing without a trace for days.
He must be around here somewhere.
And yet, every single servant and citizen came back with the same answer: they hadn't seen him.
The shipwrecks were all turning up empty, and they were starting to run out of nearby ones. This was not making Leon feel any better.
Who am I kidding, I can't feel better about this if I tried.
Leon was now going about on his own just outside the farthest marked shipwreck. As much as he appreciated his servants, right now, he needed to be alone. He had to think.
Why? Why did I have to talk to him that way? Why did I feel the need to destroy everything that he cared about?
An odd feeling began to well up inside of him as he thought this, watching as the sun began to rise. It was a feeling that he had never really felt before, not since…
… Esther.
Leon sighed heavily. Even just remembering her name was painful, though he didn't think it should still hurt that bad. It had been just under twenty years since she died, and yet it still felt like he was being stabbed every time he thought about it.
He unfortunately couldn't help but keep thinking about his late wife. He couldn't help but think about when he had first met her, when they had gotten married, when Francis was born… all of it. Even if none of that had ever happened, he knew that he loved Esther. She was gorgeous, which was what first caught his attention, but beyond that, she was kind and smart and very caring. Without even knowing that he was (at the time) the prince, she treated him like they had been life-long friends.
When she died, it felt like someone had taken away everything that made the world worth living in. For months afterward, everything he looked at made him think of her, but even that faded after a while. However, it didn't help that his son was like a miniature version of Esther. They had the same golden hair, the same gentle face, the same kindness, the same aptitude to be nice to people, and the same voice. It was the voice that really got to Leon; he didn't know how it was possible, but somehow Francis had inherited his mother's beautiful voice.
When it happened, Francis was just a boy, not even seven years old yet. Even then he looked like his mother, which bothered Leon, but that quickly changed since Francis was still growing like a weed and starting to look like a man more and more. Then his voice changed. Leon vividly remembered that day.
By then Francis was about thirteen, had a couple voice cracks, was pretty moody, the normal teenage stuff. It was around that time that their relationship had begun deteriorating, but they were still cordial then. Leon had begrudgingly started to show his son the ropes of being royalty in the kingdom, but very quickly realized that Francis had very different ideas about how to handle situations. He wasn't wrong in his ideas, but Leon didn't feel like they were nearly as effective, and given their recent falling out, was in no mood to listen to such them.
That fateful morning, Leon had been waiting for his son to join him for breakfast, which they still had together then. He was pretty pissed that Francis had developed the habit of staying up late and sleeping in, meaning he was consistently late for meals. Eventually, his son finally entered the room, looking like he would have killed for another few hours of sleep.
"Well look who's up," Leon said, a little sarcastically.
Francis sighed at that, but shrugged a little as he moved to the table.
"Morning Papa," he said tiredly.
Leon froze. Francis' words sounded so… different. It was deeper, thicker, almost more sure of itself. And yet, there was a hint of something melodic in it. It had a 'pretty' undertone, and that felt very familiar.
Leon couldn't believe it that Francis' voice changed overnight, but that was the first time he'd noticed. To him, it was like one day Francis still had squeaky pre-teens voice cracks and the next day he had obtained the voice of a fully grown man. Obviously that wasn't the actual case, but Leon hadn't paid enough attention to his son to keep up with the progression of his voice. It was just so jarring that Leon couldn't help but simply stare at Francis.
Later, Francis was doing the breakfast dishes (as was the tradition to teach royal kids responsibility) while Leon was still at the table, doing some work. Leon was deeply entrenched in his work when he heard something: singing. It was a song that he had heard before, a lot actually, but it was being sung in a voice that he hadn't heard sing before. Curious, he went to the kitchen and there saw his son, washing the dishes, singing as he did so.
Francis almost always sang while he did his morning chores, but when Leon heard it this morning, he froze again. His singing was… beautiful. The way he enunciated certain words, the way his native accent rubbed off heavier on some words, the way he could hit a very wide range of notes with more ease now, everything made Francis' voice enviable. Francis hadn't said much during breakfast so Leon didn't get a good chance to analyze it, but now that he was listening to him, Leon realized something.
Francis had Esther's voice. He could hear his wife's voice in his son's singing. Leon didn't know how, but it was almost like Francis had an exact copy of Esther's voice, only if it was masculine. It was impossible to deny it; it was his mother's voice.
From then on, when Francis spoke, Leon heard Esther in every other word. Just when he thought his son had stopped reminding him of his wife, he now had to listen to her voice in him. What made it worse was knowing that this was Francis' voice now, that it wouldn't change again and he was going to live with hearing his wife's voice in his son, who already reminded him of Esther. After a few weeks, the two got into another fight and Leon, in so many words, banned Francis from singing, just so he didn't have to hear his dead wife's voice.
It was at that point that Francis and Leon wouldn't see eye to eye. Since that day, Francis never looked at his father the same way and the once sympathetic and soft looks were now replaced with glares and silent cursing. That was the day he thought he lost his son.
Now, being in the outskirts of his kingdom, he realized he was wrong. He had lost his son four days ago after he had yelled at him.
Leon exhaled heavily. He never in his life would have thought that he would have lost his son like this, by his own words, and not even realize it until it was too late.
Even if I find him, what could I say to make him come home?
He decided he would cross that bridge when he came to it. A fear he wasn't familiar with was welling up and he didn't know what to do about it. Right then, he wanted nothing more than to see his son and as strange as it sounded, he just wanted to hear his voice.
Leon was at the very least thankful that he wasn't alone in this search. With him being the king of his people, once the community had learned of Francis' disappearance, they had been quick to begin looking for their prince. That was the other thing that was really bothering Leon; even if he really hated his son (for whatever reason), Francis was still the prince of the kingdom, the only heir to the throne, and the next in line should something happen to Leon. Since Francis had run away, if he wasn't found, Leon would have robbed the kingdom of their future king.
While Leon was terrified of the fact that his son was gone, the population was scared of the fact that their prince was gone, meaning if anything happened to Leon, well… no one knew what to do then.
"Well well well…"
Leon whipped around yet saw no one. Had he imagined it?
"What's someone as important as you out here all by your lonesome?"
Turning to the voice again, Leon saw its owner. He narrowed his eyes.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
The merwoman, perched on a rock a short ways away, smiled devilishly. Her tail swished around absentmindedly.
"Just wondering what a king like you is doing all the way out here. Is it even legal for you to be so far away from your palace at this point?"
"What the hell do you want, Madoline?"
Madoline shot a quick glare at him, then flipped her hair around.
"So… what are you looking for exactly?"
"What?"
With a huff, the sea witch got up from her rock and moved slowly toward Leon.
"Oh come on, I've seen you and your slaves mapping the area like you lost something." She grinned a sickly sweet smile. "So what did you lose?"
"None of your business, you bitch," Leon snapped.
Normally he would treat anyone with at least some amount of respect (although it could be argued that he had mistreated his son), but he knew this woman was no one he wanted to be associated with. They'd had a few run-ins before, none of which went well.
"Do you need help?" Madoline asked, sarcasm thickly coating her words.
"I need you to leave me and the kingdom alone," Leon sneered. "You're not even supposed to be here, really."
"Oh please, you have no need to tell me about the exile you put me in." Her eyes narrowed a bit as she said this.
"You know what you did."
They were silent for a few seconds before Leon decided to leave. He made it several paces away when he heard her speak again.
"I know what happened to Francis."
Leon stopped.
"You know where he is?"
Madoline smirked.
"Well of course I do. After all, when your father shuns you for what you believe in, you would run away too, wouldn't you?"
Leon felt his anger boiling up.
"Where is he?"
Once again, Madoline smirked.
"Oh, who knows at this point?"
"You mean you don't know?" Leon yelled.
"Not exactly," she admitted. "But I mean all I did was give him an opportunity."
Now Leon got really scared. He had never warned Francis about Madoline and her tricks; Francis had no reason to refuse whatever the hell her offer was.
"An opportunity to what?"
Madoline glared daggers while smiling.
"To go get the human that he fell in love with."
Leon froze. So many thoughts were running through his head.
Francis accepted a deal from her? He was in love? What human is she talking about? What does she mean 'go get the human'? What the hell did she do to him? Where is he?
"What did you do to him? Where is Francis?" Leon tried to yell, but it came out quiet.
"Oh, I thought you didn't want my help," Madoline huffed.
"What did you do to him?" Leon repeated, this time right on the border of yelling.
Now the sea witch grinned devilishly again.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
Then, with a flick of her wrist, she was just gone. In a thin cloud of black dust, Madoline had disappeared.
Leon was frozen in place, thinking over what had just been revealed to him.
He realized a few things very quickly. He knew that Francis had met with Madoline and made a deal with her; what exactly the deal was, that wasn't too clear. There was also the fact that his son had gone somewhere, going after a human. That implied that he was on land, which should be impossible; this also implied that Madoline had done something to change him in a way that he could go on land. Then there was the feelings that Francis supposedly had for this human.
Perhaps that's what hit Leon the hardest. He had no idea that Francis had ever developed such feelings for anyone. Francis had fallen in love and was willing to give up his life as a prince to chase after this human.
What human? What human did he fall in love with without my knowledge?
Leon thought back, once again feeling horrible that he struggled to even remember what Francis even did most of the time. Then it hit him. The storm.
He mentioned that there was a human that almost drowned. He saved that human.
That must have been the human Francis had fallen for, that was the only time Francis had mentioned a human. That human had a name, maybe that would help him remember more. What was it?
Arthur. That's the name he said.
And then Leon realized it: Francis had fallen in love with a male human. Francis, his son, had rescued this Arthur, caught some sort of feelings for him, ran away, accepted a deal with Madoline, and somehow changed himself to follow Arthur.
To chase who he loves.
Leon snapped out of it. It didn't matter what Francis felt for this Arthur, but he was the prince and needed to come home. With this in mind, Leon began moving quickly back toward his people. He knew that Francis was somewhere on land, hopefully somewhere near the coast, and that the sea witch had done something to aid him. Now that he knew this, he knew he was, unfortunately, going to need help.
Help from Madoline, who had at least some idea where his son was.
Arthur groaned as he awoke that morning. His head was pounding and he was dizzy as all get out. He was very much tempted to just go back to sleep, which he actually did for a few moments. But the sun was shining right in his eye and his headache was so bad that it wouldn't allow him the sweet release of unconsciousness.
Bloody hell… why does it hurt so bad?
Arthur rolled onto his back and pressed a palm to his temple, wishing desperately that his magic could take away his pain much like it could other people's. Alas, it could not; it could only heal others.
How much did I use my magic yesterday? He thought sullenly. A lot, twice in one day.
Now he knew that wasn't actually a whole lot of magic that he'd used, just a few minutes of invisibility and a quick heal of Francis' bruises. That was not much magic, but given that he'd been hiding his magic, and therefore not using it, for a quite a while, it sure felt like a lot. It was apparent he was pretty out of practice and was not used to just how much energy it took to actually use his magic. Still, despite the throbbing in his head, he felt it was worth it.
As he hoped the pain would end, the thought of Francis. Strange, as soon as he'd shown up, Arthur couldn't stop thinking about him. No matter what he was doing, the beautiful blond mute kept popping up in his mind. Of course, he had convinced himself that he was just worried about Francis' well being, given that his guest had no real way of communicating, didn't know anything about who the world worked, and was injured. But in the few short days that he'd been there, he'd slowly realized that he was catching feelings for Francis.
He had tried to ignore the feelings, he couldn't let himself think that way with a near stranger. But the night before had changed things. Arthur thought back to seeing Francis in that tunic for the first time, the feeling he had in his gut. He thought of the look in the blonde's eyes when he offered to buy him some new clothes, the way that Francis had clung to him after he'd been cornered by that drunk (even if it was only for a second), even the way he held onto his hand when going through the crowds.
And when they danced…
Oh god that was amazing.
Arthur was unable to believe how close they were, holding each other like a proper couple. It felt like heaven to look so closely into Francis' blue eyes as they stepped in time to the music. He remembered the look that Francis had when the pain got to him and wished he never had to see it again. He couldn't just let him be in so much pain, which led to him to finally, finally tell someone about his magic after years of keeping it to himself. Arthur had expected Francis to think he was crazy for wielding magic, and yet he was more interested than anything.
Even when they had talked about their parents and got upset, Arthur still felt in some form of bliss; he was just happy to have someone to talk to, but being able to hold Francis in a hug… that was something he wasn't expecting. But it felt so good to hold Francis, to give into his blasphemous feelings just a little bit, to be able to now know that Francis smelled like lemongrass and lavender, to feel the strong yet delicate grip of the blond around him. It was…
"God it was so nice," Arthur breathed aloud, barely a whisper.
As much as he wanted to stay in Francis' grip forever, they eventually had to part for dinner. They ate alone, as Emma and Abel had decided to stay with their friend for the night given the storm, but that was alright because they just wanted to talk. After years of keeping his magic quiet, he and Francis talked about it quite a bit, mostly through paper since they couldn't say anything out loud and it was easier for Francis to communicate that way. During and even after dinner, they also talked about their parents, recounting both good and bad memories with them.
Arthur learned that Francis' mother was a beautiful singer, before she died, and that his father acted like the king of their island. In turn, he told the beautiful blond about his time in the military, how their family fortune had been made (in part with magic) through their trading company, and how they had chosen as a sort of 'back up' family in case the royal family ended. It was like a weight was lifted from his shoulders telling Francis all this; he normally wouldn't tell people stuff like this, but given that Francis was a commoner that had no connection with any political power, and was pretty non-judgmental, he felt that it wouldn't hurt if Francis knew.
"Stop it," Arthur groaned, rubbing his eyes, realizing he was thinking of telling Francis more. "You can't think of Francis in that way. He's just a friend, not a..."
It didn't matter what went on between then, he had no reason to think that Francis was interested in him (or was even attracted to men) and it was technically against the law to feel that way, meaning he couldn't partake in it if he was going to be the prince.
"If only he'd shown up a few months ago, then I could have been with him and rejected the offer to be prince."
Yet even as he said this, he still couldn't be sure that Francis felt the same for him… and it hurt his heart a little. He groaned again, his head throbbing painfully.
"I'm really going to have to get used to magic again if I keep this up."
After a few minutes, the pain subsided, but it was still present.
Knock knock.
The noise made Arthur jump a little.
"Yeah?" he called instinctively, sitting up.
It took him a second to process that he was still in bed and the sun was up. One of the servants was probably making sure he hadn't died in his sleep or something. What was odd was that, even after he called, Arthur didn't hear any response.
"Hello?"
In response, there was another knock.
What the hell? Why aren't they saying anything?
"You can come in?" he tried again.
This seemed to work, as the door opened. Arthur was about to ask why they didn't say anything, but stopped, hand halfway through his hair, when he saw who was at the door.
It was Francis.
Arthur did everything in his power to not do a double take because he knew what he saw. Francis was at his door, a tray in his hand. He was already dressed and had his hair pulled back, his knuckles white trying not to drop the tray.
I gotta be dreaming, I mean I must be.
But no, Francis was there, looking a bit nervous. Arthur hated that.
"What… what're you doing?" he somehow got out.
Francis sheepishly looked at him, then down at the tray, pushing the door shut behind him with his foot. Before Arthur could protest, Francis walked over to him and set the tray down at the edge of the bed. It had a plate of eggs, fried mush, and bread, along with a tiny plate of what looked like orange marmalade and butter, and a steaming cup of tea. Arthur looked up at Francis.
"What's this?"
'Breakfast,' Francis answered bluntly, taking a few steps away from the bed.
Francis hadn't been in Arthur's bedroom before, hell he didn't even know where it was less than 10 minutes ago. He glanced around, admiring the beautiful room.
"Okay, I got that," Arthur muttered. "But why bring it here? Furthermore, why did you bring it and not one of the maids?"
'The maids said you weren't feeling well and since you weren't up, they decided it would be better to get it to you while you were still resting.'
Arthur glanced up, still a bit unsure as to whether or not this was a dream. After a few seconds of staring at Francis, he decided it was real. Then the weirdness of the situation began to set in. Francis, his guest, had come into his room with food, while he was hardly awake, still in his nightshirt.
Jesus christ this is weird.
But he didn't say that. He cleared his throat lightly.
"Uh… thanks… I guess… but that still doesn't explain why you're the one bring it and not any of the maids."
Francis gave a nervous smile as he answered: 'They were really busy setting up for tonight, I offered to drop it off so they didn't have to worry about it.'
Well, I guess that makes sense but still, I gotta get him to stop doing the maid's work.
Still, he couldn't deny that he liked that Francis was there with him. Today Francis was wearing a dark brown pair of trousers, a cream undershirt, and a wine red vest. He noticed that Francis was still wearing his normal boots.
"So the vinegar worked?"
Francis looked down at his boots instinctively, then looked up with a smile.
'There's a bit of staining, but the majority of it came out.'
Arthur smiled a bit. He remembered helping get the blood out of his boots the night before, and only afterward did they realize that Francis had no other shoes and they still had to go to dinner. As such, Arthur convinced him that it was okay if he just went to dinner in his stockings, especially since Emma and Abel weren't going to be there. Francis had blushed so much his entire face was red when he walked to the table in just his socks. No one minded, though; they either didn't notice or knew about Francis' injuries and correctly assumed he'd bled through his bandages.
"Well that's good," Arthur admitted.
He noticed that Francis seemed to be awkwardly edging toward the door.
"You can stay, y'know."
Francis was hesitant, but nodded and sat down on a chair near a few bookshelves. Arthur didn't know why he had said that, because only now was he realizing that he was still in his bed, in his nightclothes.
Holy shit why did I say he could stay? Too late now I suppose.
As strange as this situation was, he couldn't deny that he was hungry, and that plate of food was calling his name. He grabbed it, then stopped.
"Hey, what about yours?"
Francis seemed surprised. He never would admit that he was daydreaming a little while looking around the room. The question caught him off guard.
'I already ate,' he signed quickly.
Arthur nodded, then gave into his hunger and grabbed a fork to chow down on the eggs.
"So, what tipped the maids off to me not feeling well?" he asked between bites.
'You asked for ginger tea last night,' Francis replied with a bit of a smile. 'They told me that you only drink ginger tea when you aren't feeling well, so they got suspicious when you asked for it last night.'
"Heh, I can't believe that they noticed that," Arthur laughed, prompting an odd look from Francis, a cross between confused and amused. Arthur explained. "I actually hate the taste, but it's the only thing that actually seems to help when I'm feeling like shite so I only have it when I have to."
Francis gave a small chuckle, as much as his mute vocal cords would allow. As he drank his tea, Arthur noticed that the blond seemed a bit… off. He didn't have a chance to ask.
'It's because of your magic, isn't it?' Francis signed sorrowfully.
Arthur stopped as he translated this in his head.
He doesn't need to know… I'm really alright… but shite he knows about the tea, so he must have some idea that it takes a lot out of me… he already knows, I should just admit it.
With this thought, Arthur set the tray aside with a small sigh.
"Yeah… but it's really not that bad," he tried, but stopped that quickly when he saw the unconvinced look in Francis' eyes. "Okay, it's pretty shitty. I'm dizzy, my head hurts, and I would gladly murder someone for more sleep."
The look in Francis' eyes was something that would make Arthur laugh every time he thought of it from then on. He wiped his eyes after getting a good breath.
"I'm joking, Francis, I'm joking!" he laughed.
Francis scowled at him, but it was clear he was trying to keep in a laugh.
Too bad, Arthur thought. I would love to hear him laugh for once.
As they calmed down, Francis' face once again went soft and concerned.
'You really didn't have to heal me if it was just going to make you this miserable,' he signed solemnly.
"It's not because I healed you," Arthur interjected. "Well, I mean yes it is, but it's just been a while since I used magic like that. It's not… not anything you did."
All was quiet for a few moments, then Francis smiled a little.
'I'm still sorry," Francis signed.
"Don't be, but I won't judge you if you feel that way."
Francis smiled again at that. The two went quiet as Arthur finished his tea and Francis continued to look out the window. It was a comfortable silence.
'Are you going to be okay?' Francis asked after a few minutes.
"Oh, yeah I'll be alright," replied Arthur. "I'm actually feeling a lot better already."
Once again, Francis smiled.
'Thank you for last night,' he signed meekly.
Arthur noticed a faint blush on the blond's face.
Cute.
"You're welcome. Thanks for keeping it a secret."
Francis nodded. Arthur sighed a little, then, with a stretch, got out of bed.
"Speaking of which, I should probably actually get up and going, eh?"
It was only then that he really remembered that his nightclothes consisted of just a really long shirt that reached his mid-thigh, leaving his legs bare. The reason he remembered was that Francis' face went very red upon seeing him.
Shite what was I thinking? I don't even let my servants see me like this, let alone…
Arthur realized then he didn't know what Francis was to him anymore. But before he could really think about it, Francis stood, quickly signed something about giving him some privacy, then hurriedly left the room.
Okay, that was weird… I mean we're both guys so it's not like seeing a woman's ankles… unless he's…?
Arthur shook his head. There was an odd feeling in his chest, one that he hadn't felt in a long time, and even then it felt slightly different. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. As he got dressed, he really thought about his relationship with Francis, recognizing that it was no longer just 'host and guest' and closer to 'good friends'. In truth, it had been a while since he'd had any friends, but he was pretty sure that what he actually wanted their relationship to be was… well, more than friends.
But I can't do that to him. Who am I kidding, it's probably just a random fling that I'm having.
And yet, he couldn't deny the crippling loneliness he felt now that Francis was gone.
Author's Note:
I HAVE RETURNED FROM THE GRAVE TO GIVE THE LIVING FANFICTIONS!
Okay but in all seriousness I have risen once again to update this story. Between dress rehearsals and other writing I had to do, this story unfortunately had to take the backburner. But now I'm back! I'm not finished with dress rehearsals but soon I will be and I promise to finish this story. Fun fact: I have the role of Prospero from Shakespeare's The Tempest, which means I'm an island wizard and at one point Prospero admits that he's a necromancer so that's cool! I guess I had to revive myself to update this story \(o~o)/
Aside from that, holy crap guys 630 views! I'm so happy that you guys are still liking the story and I thank each and every one of you for reading! Honestly the last few chapters have been kinda hard to write, but I'm getting them written so that's good I guess. This chapter is a little different from the others, mostly because I forgot Leon was a character for a hot minute (whoops!), but I actually didn't mind writing a bit from Arthur's perspective. Hopefully this is the part where you as readers start screaming at them to get over themselves and confess their feelings, because then that means I've done something right with this story!
On a smaller note, I think I'm going to change the story to M before the next chapter. Like I said last time, it's not for anything explicit, but I want to be safe and it'll allow me to use some cursing that I've been editing out before now. I just want to let you all know in case you have your fanfiction filters set to K-T and don't see my story.
One more thing, I've recently started a new story (I know I really need to just stick with one story but fight me) that I'll be releasing the first chapter to shorty. I'll talk more about in the A/N of that story, so keep on the lookout for it. I don't have a name for it yet, so sorry you'll just have to see it's from me ^u^
Alright, well I guess I'll leave this here then. I'll try to update sooner next time. My cat Jack is currently glaring at me because he's trying to sleep and I keep booping his nose (cuz he's a cutie), so he begrudgingly says hi. Anyway, thank you all again and see you next time!