Blood of the Crown-Chapter 3
The instant Pietro came to he was painfully aware of the throbbing headache that was now formulating in his head. He remembered very little from the night before and he was pretty sure that he didn't want to by the feel of it. He groaned miserably and rolled over, blearily opening his eyes. His icy blue gaze was met with and an equally blue, yet warmer gaze. He yelped and rolled off the other side of the bed, landing with a loud thump. There was a quiet giggle from the other side of the bed and he stood up, hands balled into fists. He finally remembered what had happened and it angered him to no end.
"How dare you!" Pietro roared, "You take me prisoner and then dare to laugh at me! Do you realize who I am!? That is right; I am Prince Pietro and I demand respect! Where is that filthy little thief Lance anyways!? I demand to speak to him! NOW!" The woman stood, smiling warmly. She had long chocolate brown hair, tied back in a tight ponytail and blue eyes that rivaled his own, though they contained a sort of childish innocence that Pietro's lacked.
"You do a lot of demanding don't you," she asked amusedly, "Well first of all, my name is Kitty Pryde and let me be the first to welcome you to your new home for the time being. I hope you enjoy your stay with us." Pietro glared.
"You people are horrible," he muttered angrily, folding his arms over his chest. Kitty smiled and shook her head.
"We only do what we believe is right," she answered, "Now come and let me look at those injuries." She winked at him and Pietro's eyes widened, obviously not getting the hint.
"Injuries!?" he cried, "What injuries!? My God were you trying to kill me!?" Kitty was now giggling furiously.
"I'm only kidding," she said laughingly, "Come sit and I'll fetch the Captain for you." Pietro glared at her suspiciously but sat on the bed anyways, watching as she left the room. The Captain came in not a minute later, and Pietro was surprised to see he was not wearing his armor, but a rusty brown tunic tied tight with a black leather belt. He smiled upon seeing the young prince but only received an angry scowl in return.
"Aw Prince Pietro, I trust you slept well?" he asked, bowing at the waist. Pietro glowered and shook his head angrily. That comment would not win him over this time.
"How dare you do this to me!" Pietro seethed, "Come in and pretend to be my friend again after you kidnapped me! You are a madman and it won't take my father long to track you down! The Captain of his Guard is the best-" He stopped mid-sentence and looked at the floor dejectedly. Lance chuckled and sat beside Pietro. Pietro moved away slightly and Lance noticed soon enough that Pietro was crying noiselessly. He felt the familiar pain in his heart and he pulled the boy close. Once again he did not protest.
"My lord you must understand my reasons," he implored, "I only want what is best for your country, please forgive me. You are a prisoner but you will not be treated as such." Pietro sniffled.
"I-I will not be treated like a prisoner?" he asked hesitantly. Lance smiled and gently ran a hand through Pietro's snowy white hair, causing Pietro to shiver involuntarily.
"Of course not my prince," he whispered. Pietro could feel his heart thumping rapidly beneath his ribs and he swallowed, sitting upright.
"Well then," he said, brushing himself off, "I am hungry. Fetch me something to eat." Lance smiled and stood up, bowing to the prince.
"As you wish my lord," he said and left the room. Pietro let out the breath he had been holding and sank back onto the bed. He should be angry, really he should. But he wasn't. The way Lance had sounded so determined and passionate had made all his feelings of anger melt away. But the thing that had affected him most was when he'd called him 'my prince' just as he had the night before. Why was the captain having this kind of effect on him? He suddenly heard footsteps from outside and the door opened once more. A fiery red head came into the room, carrying a tray full of food and whistling merrily to himself. Pietro glared and backed up against the wall.
"Where is the Captain?" he asked. The man smiled and set the tray on the bed.
"The Captain had some business to attend to," he said, "He sends his apologies." Pietro gave an indignant 'hmph' and pulled the tray onto his lap.
"What on earth is it!?" Pietro asked in disgust, giving the food a distasteful look. Then red-head chuckled.
"That would be meat, eggs and potatoes," he replied, "And for your drinking pleasure, red rum." Pietro looked up at him in horror as the man placed the bottle on his bedside table.
"You actually expect me to eat this!?" he shrieked, "And never will I touch the Devil's poison!" The man gave him a strange look.
"Devil's poison? Oh, you mean the alcohol?" he asked, "Aw that's not poison! And we eat the food so you should too. It don't hurt us, it won't hurt you!" Pietro narrowed his eyes to little slits.
"I refuse to eat such slop," he said firmly, "Now fetch me the captain or I shall be cross." The man chuckled.
"Well your Highness," he said mockingly, bowing to him, "The Captain's busy, so deal with it!" Pietro was taken aback, and his expression made it known.
"Good day," the man said politely, slamming the door behind him. Pietro was fuming by that point and he furiously threw the tray against the wall smearing the contents across its surface. That apparently wasn't enough as he was now throwing different items from the shelf. Soon the door was thrown open and a very angry looking Lance stormed into the room. Pietro stood defiantly in front of him, eyes set in an angry scowl, lips pursed.
"What the hell's the matter with you!?" Lance shouted. Pietro sat on the bed and folded his arms over his chest.
"You said I would not be treated as a prisoner!" Pietro said angrily. Lance rose and eyebrow in question.
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Lance asked, "Have you once been treated poorly?" Pietro smirked smugly, throwing a hip out to one side.
"Actually I have," Pietro stated, "That red-headed man was quite the nuisance and he even had the nerve to refuse me access to you. And then he slammed the door causing me a great deal of aggravation." Lance sighed.
"My lord, might I remind you of what I said?" Lance asked witheringly, "I said in these exact words: 'You will not be treated as a prisoner.' That does not include being treated like a prince. Many of my men are resentful of you and do not wish to treat you with respect you so rightly deserve. Thus, Mr. Allerdyce's treatment of you." Pietro looked thoughtful a moment.
"Allerdyce?" Pietro asked aloud, "Why does that name sound familiar. . .!!!" Pietro's eyes widened considerably and then narrowed.
"Allerdyce!" he hissed, "I knew I had heard that name before! He's the rebellious one! The one who. . ." Pietro stopped suddenly and clutched his head, the familiar pains from his childhood flooding back full force. Lance rushed to his side just as the young prince fell from the bed and caught him in his strong arms, holding him there. Pietro was whimpering pitifully and Lance looked down at him. His face was pale, the blood drained from his cheeks.
"Prince Pietro. . ." he called softly, panic rising in his voice, "Prince Pietro! PRINCE PIETRO!" But it was futile; the prince had already fallen unconscious.
x(X)x
Dun dun dun! Yes, a cliffhanger! What is wrong with the prince? Find out in the next chapter! Well this chapter was one of my least favorites-- But oh well! As always reviews are GREATLY appreciated and a big shout out to my best friend in the world, Lavender! And to the few who reviewed THANK YOU!!!!
--Avalanche Maximoff-
The instant Pietro came to he was painfully aware of the throbbing headache that was now formulating in his head. He remembered very little from the night before and he was pretty sure that he didn't want to by the feel of it. He groaned miserably and rolled over, blearily opening his eyes. His icy blue gaze was met with and an equally blue, yet warmer gaze. He yelped and rolled off the other side of the bed, landing with a loud thump. There was a quiet giggle from the other side of the bed and he stood up, hands balled into fists. He finally remembered what had happened and it angered him to no end.
"How dare you!" Pietro roared, "You take me prisoner and then dare to laugh at me! Do you realize who I am!? That is right; I am Prince Pietro and I demand respect! Where is that filthy little thief Lance anyways!? I demand to speak to him! NOW!" The woman stood, smiling warmly. She had long chocolate brown hair, tied back in a tight ponytail and blue eyes that rivaled his own, though they contained a sort of childish innocence that Pietro's lacked.
"You do a lot of demanding don't you," she asked amusedly, "Well first of all, my name is Kitty Pryde and let me be the first to welcome you to your new home for the time being. I hope you enjoy your stay with us." Pietro glared.
"You people are horrible," he muttered angrily, folding his arms over his chest. Kitty smiled and shook her head.
"We only do what we believe is right," she answered, "Now come and let me look at those injuries." She winked at him and Pietro's eyes widened, obviously not getting the hint.
"Injuries!?" he cried, "What injuries!? My God were you trying to kill me!?" Kitty was now giggling furiously.
"I'm only kidding," she said laughingly, "Come sit and I'll fetch the Captain for you." Pietro glared at her suspiciously but sat on the bed anyways, watching as she left the room. The Captain came in not a minute later, and Pietro was surprised to see he was not wearing his armor, but a rusty brown tunic tied tight with a black leather belt. He smiled upon seeing the young prince but only received an angry scowl in return.
"Aw Prince Pietro, I trust you slept well?" he asked, bowing at the waist. Pietro glowered and shook his head angrily. That comment would not win him over this time.
"How dare you do this to me!" Pietro seethed, "Come in and pretend to be my friend again after you kidnapped me! You are a madman and it won't take my father long to track you down! The Captain of his Guard is the best-" He stopped mid-sentence and looked at the floor dejectedly. Lance chuckled and sat beside Pietro. Pietro moved away slightly and Lance noticed soon enough that Pietro was crying noiselessly. He felt the familiar pain in his heart and he pulled the boy close. Once again he did not protest.
"My lord you must understand my reasons," he implored, "I only want what is best for your country, please forgive me. You are a prisoner but you will not be treated as such." Pietro sniffled.
"I-I will not be treated like a prisoner?" he asked hesitantly. Lance smiled and gently ran a hand through Pietro's snowy white hair, causing Pietro to shiver involuntarily.
"Of course not my prince," he whispered. Pietro could feel his heart thumping rapidly beneath his ribs and he swallowed, sitting upright.
"Well then," he said, brushing himself off, "I am hungry. Fetch me something to eat." Lance smiled and stood up, bowing to the prince.
"As you wish my lord," he said and left the room. Pietro let out the breath he had been holding and sank back onto the bed. He should be angry, really he should. But he wasn't. The way Lance had sounded so determined and passionate had made all his feelings of anger melt away. But the thing that had affected him most was when he'd called him 'my prince' just as he had the night before. Why was the captain having this kind of effect on him? He suddenly heard footsteps from outside and the door opened once more. A fiery red head came into the room, carrying a tray full of food and whistling merrily to himself. Pietro glared and backed up against the wall.
"Where is the Captain?" he asked. The man smiled and set the tray on the bed.
"The Captain had some business to attend to," he said, "He sends his apologies." Pietro gave an indignant 'hmph' and pulled the tray onto his lap.
"What on earth is it!?" Pietro asked in disgust, giving the food a distasteful look. Then red-head chuckled.
"That would be meat, eggs and potatoes," he replied, "And for your drinking pleasure, red rum." Pietro looked up at him in horror as the man placed the bottle on his bedside table.
"You actually expect me to eat this!?" he shrieked, "And never will I touch the Devil's poison!" The man gave him a strange look.
"Devil's poison? Oh, you mean the alcohol?" he asked, "Aw that's not poison! And we eat the food so you should too. It don't hurt us, it won't hurt you!" Pietro narrowed his eyes to little slits.
"I refuse to eat such slop," he said firmly, "Now fetch me the captain or I shall be cross." The man chuckled.
"Well your Highness," he said mockingly, bowing to him, "The Captain's busy, so deal with it!" Pietro was taken aback, and his expression made it known.
"Good day," the man said politely, slamming the door behind him. Pietro was fuming by that point and he furiously threw the tray against the wall smearing the contents across its surface. That apparently wasn't enough as he was now throwing different items from the shelf. Soon the door was thrown open and a very angry looking Lance stormed into the room. Pietro stood defiantly in front of him, eyes set in an angry scowl, lips pursed.
"What the hell's the matter with you!?" Lance shouted. Pietro sat on the bed and folded his arms over his chest.
"You said I would not be treated as a prisoner!" Pietro said angrily. Lance rose and eyebrow in question.
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Lance asked, "Have you once been treated poorly?" Pietro smirked smugly, throwing a hip out to one side.
"Actually I have," Pietro stated, "That red-headed man was quite the nuisance and he even had the nerve to refuse me access to you. And then he slammed the door causing me a great deal of aggravation." Lance sighed.
"My lord, might I remind you of what I said?" Lance asked witheringly, "I said in these exact words: 'You will not be treated as a prisoner.' That does not include being treated like a prince. Many of my men are resentful of you and do not wish to treat you with respect you so rightly deserve. Thus, Mr. Allerdyce's treatment of you." Pietro looked thoughtful a moment.
"Allerdyce?" Pietro asked aloud, "Why does that name sound familiar. . .!!!" Pietro's eyes widened considerably and then narrowed.
"Allerdyce!" he hissed, "I knew I had heard that name before! He's the rebellious one! The one who. . ." Pietro stopped suddenly and clutched his head, the familiar pains from his childhood flooding back full force. Lance rushed to his side just as the young prince fell from the bed and caught him in his strong arms, holding him there. Pietro was whimpering pitifully and Lance looked down at him. His face was pale, the blood drained from his cheeks.
"Prince Pietro. . ." he called softly, panic rising in his voice, "Prince Pietro! PRINCE PIETRO!" But it was futile; the prince had already fallen unconscious.
x(X)x
Dun dun dun! Yes, a cliffhanger! What is wrong with the prince? Find out in the next chapter! Well this chapter was one of my least favorites-- But oh well! As always reviews are GREATLY appreciated and a big shout out to my best friend in the world, Lavender! And to the few who reviewed THANK YOU!!!!
--Avalanche Maximoff-