A/N: Short chappie here with our guards yay

Enjoy~

Craig Tucker had never been one for the royalty scene. The only reason he'd even considered joining their rankings was getting caught trying to swipe another round of coins from Kupa Keep's treasury. He was given two options: Put his skills to some good use, or lose his head. He was rather fond of keeping said head, so he'd reluctantly bent to the prince's whim. He'd been thrown into the guard's training at 14, causing nothing but mayhem for the Captain all along the way. Being raised within rogue society did little to aid in the means of the strict core values of a guard, and he consistently found himself butting heads with other members of his line.

Kupa Keep, as he'd learned, was not horrifically different from his previous home within the barren outlands between it and Larnion. Disputes were never settled civilly, even within the royal guard. You fought for your opinion to be considered correct. Should one claim that the sky was purple, so long as they took down anyone who opposed them, it rang clear as fact. He'd become an expert in winning such petty arguments, more often than not coming up with outlandish theories just for the pure thrill of slamming his training sword into a fellow soldier's face.

As he glanced out the window down towards the training grounds of the Larnions, he felt as though he were in a completely new world. They were kind and attentive to each other. The captain seemed to be like a gruff father; Just a tad on the stern side but with a geniality in his voice as he called out directives. Craig shook his head slowly, watching a round of archers take up their bows and quickly fire off an assault of three arrows each at multiple targets. It was impressive to say the least, but then again there was little to be surprised over. Kupa Keep's army was skilled in the brute strength of the sword, they were taught to be sturdy and hardy as they rushed out to battle. The elves were much more practiced by means of distance. Arrows and magics were their default methodologies, the lot of them able to take down an army without a single one of them making physical contact with an enemy. Many of them were trained with their swords for the purpose of a battle within the kingdom where the risk of long-range assaults ailing citizens was so prolific. But more often than not, they were left behind in the long run.

Craig had wondered for years just how Kupa Keep would defend themselves should the elves take up the decision to come after them, to avenge their Forest or their ancestors or whatever it was that elves would fight for. He'd heard stories from many a soldier of the Great War, how humans and elves alike were slain, blood coursing down over blades of grass and co-mingling to the point where one couldn't tell what species it'd spurned from. According to the old timers, the sky was always blackened with arrows, and the land gleamed silver from the barrage of sword. It was chaos; Pure, unadulterated chaos. It'd come to a point where neither side knew exactly where the war began and ended, only coming to a halt when the King of Larnion at the time had warned the Kupa Keep monarchy to call off their army, lest the elves harness the might of The Stick now in their possession.

Beckoning the army back had apparently resulted in a mutiny and usurp of the throne, making way for the prominent family of the Cartmans to settle themselves oh-so-nicely within the palace walls. While those of Craig's generation and the one before cared little of the elves existing so 'close' to their borders so long as they stayed distant, and figured the older king had made the right call considering the circumstances, the elder generation who'd lived through the war felt nothing but a deep-seated hatred. Propaganda was all it was, various stories of elves targeting humans, turning them into trees. They'd become a horror story to keep children in their beds at night, to keep them in line. Various elves throughout the years had been captured and tried, nothing more than witch hunts against innocent travelers who'd done nothing but wandered just a bit too close to the human's lands.

Craig twisted his lips, turning from the window to look into the library at Kyle and Kendra sitting together with yet another book. He narrowed his eyes slightly, watching as Kyle told an animated story, awkwardly stumbling over words and flailing his hands around while the princess laughed and nodded him along.

"If you could stop glaring at my prince, it'd be much appreciated," a sharp voice poked through the air.

He turned to Stan across the table from him, catching a warning resonating within those indigo eyes. He let a few beats of silence pass between them before the cooled, dry retort left his lips, "How about you extend the same courtesy to the princess, then?"

Stan blinked, an offended tone overshadowing his face, "I do treat the princess with respect, you fuck."

"Oh? Because all I see is you making angry faces at her," he said, smacking his lips and leaning back in his chair, studying the tense stance of his opposite. "At least, when the prince is around her."

He scoffed, "I'm not too fond of His Highness being forced to do things he doesn't want to do."

Craig shrugged dismissively, "He seems to be taking it better than you."

The ranger straightened up, brow knitting together. "He's an excellent actor," he said coldly. "That's how royalty should be."

"Oh? He's acting like a bumbling idiot?" he cocked his brow.

"Watch it," he warned lowly.

Craig rolled his eyes, glancing back to the prince and princess, watching as Kyle read over a note from Kendra and blushed, sputtering something in reply as she laughed and winked. A long breath left his nose and he shook his head subtly. Really, he couldn't care less about the possibilities of their union, and the concept barely fazed him in the slightest. But something about how the two of them interacted was just driving him crazy. They seemed to be almost too awkward with one another considering just what a driving force they were supposed to start becoming.

Butters had excitedly ran up to him days ago, telling him in far too fast a manner how they'd managed to coerce a trade all on their own. The paladin was beside himself with glee, ranting on and on about how 'wonderful' an idea the king had set into play. That the two of them would be 'the best gosh darn royal couple ever'. But Craig just didn't see it. All he saw was a silent girl cracking jokes and a bashful elf getting all up in a tizzy and almost trying to hide. Neither of them were obviously too happy with the union, they were merely tolerating it. Craig certainly wasn't the authority on how royalty operated, but it just seemed as though the two of them together had a possibility to spell disaster for both sides of the species.

"So why did you become a royal guard?" Stan's voice reappeared, Craig glancing over to see him watching him skeptically. "Rogues usually stay far from the palace unless they're there to steal," an accusatory tone flew past his teeth.

He rolled his silver eyes and scoffed. "It was either that or be fucking executed. Turns out I like the pay," he shrugged, leaning back and swinging his legs onto the table, Stan watching in distaste. Craig crossed his legs and bounced his top foot, smacking his lips unenthusiastically. "What about you?"

"I want to protect him," he said firmly.

Craig let his eyes sliver onto the small redhead before back onto the ranger and his awkward stance, a knowing smirk crawling up the edge of his lips. "Ah. A matter of heart, hm?"

Stan went rigid for a moment, "Excuse me?"

"That explains it," he snorted. "You don't like the princess because she's taking him away from you," he cocked a superior brow. "Isn't that rule number one? Don't fall in love with your protected?"

Stan's pupils were pinpoints, rose beginning to dust over his cheeks like a thick layer of flour. He sputtered a few times, looking between him and the royal couple. "I'm not in love with-"

"Please," he cut off in a huff. "You know why rogues are so damn good at what they do?" he questioned, Stan blinking in confusion. "Because emotion is fucking how you read who you can steal from. Can't go after the nervous, paranoid ones, they'll be too on alert. Can't go after the angry ones, they're the most dangerous. You go for the nonchalant, relaxed demeanor who would brush off a pickpocket as someone just bumped against them on accident. And you? I wouldn't take a fucking coin from you as fucking jittery as you are."

Stan scowled, gritting his teeth. "I am not jittery."

"I would know," he rolled his eyes. "I have someone back home who's nothing but a fucking bucket of nervous energy."

The ranger backed up and looked at him skeptically. "You? You have someone back home?"

He shrugged, taking a sip of tea from beside him and sighing tiredly. "Met him when I was being forced through training. Kinda just happened." Stan pouted to himself. Great. This asshole could snag someone but he himself would be damned if he so much as tried. Craig continued, "Besides, he's a barbarian, not a prince."

Stan blinked, "A jittery barbarian?"

He snorted and nodded, "That's why he's one. He isn't methodical. If it startles him, he'll attack it to get it away from him. He's come after me a few times and won't settle down until he knows for sure that it's me."

"Wow. Sounds like a handful."

"Not as much as a prissy prince who's engaged. Much less an elf," he countered smartly, tapping the heel of his leather boot against the table and watching Stan sinking despondently. They both looked over to see the two of their rulers laughing with each other, Kyle ranting about the utterly useless Drow faction of Scottsdale. "Best give up now," Craig advised. "It'll be a long life if you're standing there their whole reign just angrily glaring at Princess Kendra..." he paused, looking at him snarkily, "Well. Soon-to-be Queen Kendra."

"Not that soon," he hissed sharply. "King Gerald and Queen Sheila still have a lot of life left in them."

He shrugged. "True," he mused. "But either way, they'll be married in less than six months. And at that point, you're screwed, Ranger."

"You know nothing, Rogue," he spat back defiantly, matching his position, the both of them leaning back in their chairs and staring at each other stubbornly. "I'm sure the queen will come to her senses and realize that this union is nothing more than a waste of everyone's time."

"After the progress they made with the Canadians?" he reminded him, watching Stan's shoulders slump. "Yeah. I'm sure she's just kicking herself," he scoffed. "Bringing in money, strengthening a communal bond? God, they're destroying the monarchy, aren't they?"

Blue eyes flickered down onto his legs, a long breath flowing through his nose. "Fuck off," he muttered. "What matters is my prince's happiness."

Craig glanced back at the two laughing royals and shrugged dismissively. "He seems happy enough to me."

"You don't know him," he spat. "Just as she doesn't. He's only doing this for the progression of his people. He's suffering for the good of the Drow."

He rolled his eyes. "Your prince isn't a fucking martyr. He's royalty and doing what he's supposed to do. Stop putting him on a pedestal. Everyone knows that the princess isn't doing this for the people, she's doing it because the higher-up ordered it. Just as your prince is," he waved dismissively towards the elf.

"And that proves my point," he said exhaustively. "You just don't know him like I do. You people never could."

Craig hitched his brow, "You're human, too, in case you're forgetting."

"Not in this society I'm not," he crossed his arms firmly. "If you're raised with the elves, you are an elf. The princess will never be as equally regarded as I am."

"So, the Drow are a bunch of racists is what you're telling me," he said dryly.

Stan glared, "Should the prince had been forced to live in Kupa Keep under this arrangement, he already would've had attempts against his life made. That's where the difference lies. Elves will gossip, but humans will slaughter."

The rogue paused. Okay. He had a point. Humans were escorted out of elven land with a warning, maybe kept humanely as a prisoner for a few days to interrogate over possible ambushes. Elves that crossed into Kupa Keep were grabbed and thrown into prison to be tortured until death. It was practically just regarded as a staple in their society, and one that few people ever questioned. It 'prevented the possibilities', after all. Couldn't have the mere possibility of an elf causing some mayhem within their kingdom. Better safe than sorry and all that. "True," he agreed quietly.

"So you really find it so hard to understand that I don't feel comfortable with this decision, regardless of the fact that it's Prince Kyle caught in the crossfire?" Stan asked sternly.

"No, I suppose not," he smacked his lips and shrugged. "But he's paired up with fucking Princess Kendra, okay?" he reminded him dryly. "The worst she does is make a scathing joke or glare at you. Stop acting like he's being forced to marry King Fatass."

Stan shuddered at the thought, bile rising in his chest. The mere idea was absolutely terrifying. Kyle would sooner kill himself than let Cartman have his hands on him, making sure he was nothing but a pretty little figurehead pressed under his thumb. Stan slumped. At least with Kendra, Kyle was treated fairly and kept at home. Here, he was safe. He was still the domineering royal figure between the both of them, regardless of his willingness to involve the blonde in the ever-roaring events of politics. At least in this scenario, his years of exhaustive training wouldn't be thrown to the wayside for him to merely sit there silently and watch person after person suffer by hands of his betrothed without being allowed to give so much as a question. Kyle had been right. At least with Kendra, he had the chance of friendship at the very least, and the notion seemed to bring the redhead some amount of comfort. Stan just wished that he could follow such a mentality himself.

"I still hate it," he finally replied almost silently.

"Well, get used to it," Craig said bluntly. "They're getting married, and you and I are stuck here with them throughout their damn reign. No one has any kind of say in it, let alone a damn guard. Just take some goddamn comfort in the fact that he's not with an abusive fuckwit like the king."

Stan glanced at him before back to his prince, heart sinking as he watched him reading a message from Kendra and scoffing, balling it up and throwing it at her as she laughed and bumped their shoulders together. She lingered against him longer than necessary in Stan's eyes, the ranger easily catching the fluster growing on Kyle's cheeks. He shook his head and stared blankly at them, teeth grinding against the inside of his lip. Such a casual air coming from the blonde, so easily she was touching him, flirting with it. She was trying to procure the young prince's favor, and Stan could tell from years of reading Kyle like a book: He was falling right for it.

Take comfort. Right.

A/N: Poor Stanny boy. Every time I give you Kyle I have Ken take him away pft

Thanks for R&Ring!