Step Down

(Thursday Afternoon, June 20th)

After Ben kisses Mal again she tugs on his tie, "How about we take this somewhere more private?" before her eyes move towards his bedroom.

"Oh," he realizes. "I don't know." He attempts to smile, before he places a hand to her cheek and moves in for another kiss.

Mal stops him, "Ben. It's not fair that we're always in my room."

"Look," he tries to excuse, "I have a meeting soon."

"And when it's over," she irritably points out, "I will still not have seen your room." He looks away. "Come on. It's like I don't even know you."

He swiftly turns back to her, "How can you say that?"

Mal frowns, "You're honest, sweet, and loyal enough." before she rolls her eyes. "And I love that, but I know nothing about what you like or who you really are."

His mouth opens, and it takes him a minute to say, "Seeing my room won't help."

"It's your space," she rationalizes. "It reflects who you are, the colors you use and the activates you do— besides tourney." She takes his hand, "Please. I want to know you."

Ben deeply frowns, "Okay." before he leads her to his room, blocks the door, and turns around. "But, there really is nothing to see." He hears her breathe in disbelief, and he opens the door to enter the large room. There's the bed, his desk by the window, a television on the wall, and a weight-lifting machine, all in the country colors. Ben turns and watches as Mal walks into the room in uncertainty, a frown framing her face.

"Wow." She quietly comments, "It's, uh, well, pretty bland."

When she looks at him Ben takes a moment, "I did tell you."

She looks over the room again, before she grins and strides over to the foosball table. She turns one of the knobs, "This looks cool. You play?"

Ben takes a step forward, "Not really." and Mal immediately gapes at him. "It's a, uh, birthday present." He walks over and looks down at it, "I got it in middle school. My mother said I couldn't give it away."

"If you're not going to use it," Mal questions, "then why not?"

It takes him a minute to remember, "Manners. She said it wouldn't be nice." before his eyebrow raises. "But if I tell her I grew out of it and tell her I want to give it to… charity, then maybe she'll let me." He lets out a breath, "It'd be really nice to get this thing out of here."

"Jay would probably like it," Mal solves, before she meets his hazel green eyes. "Your mom wouldn't even have to know." She notices his unsureness, "If you don't want to—"

"It's not that," he quickly says, before he stares down at the game. "I think… I think I'm just afraid to."

"Because of your mother," Mal assumes.

He faces her, "Because I'd have to say why. Because… I'd be asked questions." Ben shakes his head, "I don't like questions."

"Soo," Mal eyes him, "why are you afraid that people are going to ask questions about why you don't want the…" She glances down at it, "Whatever that is."

"I don't know," Ben looks off, before he takes a deep breath and faces her. "Look. You want to know who I am? I'm a king. That's who I am. That's the role I play."

"So, which is it?" she frowns. "Is it who you are or who you pretend to be?"

Ben's eyes shift, "I don't know." before he pulls at the neck of his tie. "I hate these things. It's like it's choking me."

"Then why do you wear it?" she squints.

"It's part of the outfit."

"You wore it at school," she points out.

"It's part of the outfit," he repeats, before he checks his watch and sighs, "I'm late. I've got to go." He moves to kiss her on the cheek, "Love you. See you later." and Mal leans on the foosball table as she watches him hurry out of the room.

Her mouth gapes as her eyes shift, "Right." before she shakes her head, eyes the tables, and walks out of the room before going to knock on Jay's door.

After the third time knocking, he opens the door, "Hey."

"Feel like stealing something?" she quickly questions.

He hesitates, "I don't think—"

"There's this cool game table in Ben's room," she explains. "I think you would like it."

"I'm not stealing from Ben," Jay says, before he notices Mal scratch at her forehead and takes her hand away from it. "Hey. Don't do that." She takes a deep breath. "What's wrong?"

Mal faces him, "Ben doesn't even want it. You would be doing him a favor."

"Why doesn't he just give it to me, then?" his eyebrows furrow.

"He can't," Mal stresses, before she takes another breath. "Come on. Let's help him."

It takes a moment for Jay to ask, "What happens if we're asked about it?"

"Then, hopefully, Ben says it's okay and that you can keep it," she rushes, her eyes wide in thought.

Jay looks over her, "Okay. I'll help him."

"Next up," Ben looks down at the paper, and his brows crease. "Sorry. I don't remember this word."

After he looks up at King Charming and says the French word, the other king seems surprised, "Apartments? Like, those apartments for the homeless?"

"Right," Ben slowly says in recollection. "So." He clears his throat, "The apartments are going to start… they're going to be start to be built this summer." He shakes his head, placing a hand to his head and staring down at the paper.

After a minute King Charming speaks, and Ben slowly looks up in disbelief. He doesn't understand half of the words, but he recognizes a few. He's listing kingdoms and things like fire and water. He must be talking about the building materials and the costs of everything, maybe. Ben gulps. He thought he was ready. They hadn't met in months. He blamed it on school, hoping that he'd be better by now, but he clearly isn't. He feels his eyes warm, a heaviness sitting inside his chest.

King Charming looks at Ben, "What do you think?"

"Good," Ben managers, before he clears his throat; however, he won't be able to say another word, not without it cracking. He lifts the notebook up, stands from his seat, and then goes to the door. He hears someone ask something, but he doesn't understand. His mind is racing, and he strides through the main floor and into the bathroom. He slides his back down the blue tiles, and his eyes move from the set of sinks to the mirror across from him. He stares at his reflection, the tears streaming from his eyes blurring the picture. The door opens, and he glances at King Charming before looking back at the reflection, his arms wrapped around his knees.

"Hey." He kneels next to him, "What's wrong?"

Ben swallows, "I can't speak English." and his breaths shake. "I thought I could, but I still can't."

"Because you fell down the stairs."

He finds himself repulsed by the notion, "What?"

"That's what you said, wasn't it?" he inquires. "In the interview you said that when you fell down the stairs you got a concussion."

"Right," Ben shuts his eyes in realization. "I fell." He remembers how his father had backed him up to the stairs and how he hadn't the sense to simply walk down them, before he places his forehead onto his knees. "Can you go, please?"

"You haven't dismissed the council meeting, yet."

"You can do it," he delegates.

"Was the apartments your last discussion point?" he unsurely asks.

"No," Ben sniffles, before he lifts his head. "Word has it that Camelot is still warring with the dragons."

"You gave him a direct order to stop," King Charming sternly states. "As king of the country, you need to take a stand." Ben shakes his head. "He disobeyed you. That means he thinks he's better than you. If you let him, you'll appear weak."

His father's words. Ben shouts at him, "I don't care." before he laughs and his eyebrows rise. "Do I look like I'm in any condition to face off the Almighty Arthur? I could barely get through my own notes. How am I supposed to debate him?"

It takes a minute for him to suggest, "King Ben." and he looks back at him. "This country needs a strong leader, someone who can hold us together, keep Camelot and others from deviating." He hesitates, "Maybe, if you're not in the condition to act as king right now, then you should step down for a while."

"And what?" Ben's mouth gapes. "Give the crown back to my father? He'd drop this homeless apartment initiative the first second he gets, and they need this."

"Things will be worse if wars break out," he concerns.

"Anger does not keep people together," Ben defends. "It breaks people apart."

He takes a moment, "I know that giving up power can be hard—"

"I'll never get it back," his eyes widen. "My father would never let it go. Not again."

"Ben," he tries to reason. "You are your father's only son. You will inherit the crown no matter what."

"The people can't wait that long," he strongly disagrees.

King Charming takes a moment, "I don't think this is about the people."

Ben shakes his head, "What else would it be about?"

"You're afraid to let go of your position."

Ben thinks, "It's just." before his eyes meet his. "Who am I if I'm not king?"

"Well," he questions back, "who were you before?"

Nothing. Ben can't think of anything. "I was a prince," he mumbles. "I was a tourney player. I was…" He shakes his head, "I spent my entire life training to be king. Now I am, I can't just give it up. It's who I am."

"It's not all you are," he counters.

"No," Ben evenly denies. "It is all I am. And, right now, it's all I care about. The idea that I get to help people, the entire country, that's what gets me up in the morning." He nods in thought, "I'm king, and that's not going to change. Not right now and definitely not if the crown goes back to my father."

"What's wrong with your father?" he frowns.

"Nothing," Ben answers in irritation. "Haven't you seen the statues, the paintings, and the news specials? He's a great man. He always has been."

King Charming shakes his head, failing to understand, "Ben."

He stands from the floor and walks by him, "I'll dismiss the council myself."

- Posted: 03/09/2019