Ch.9
As the heat of dawn warmed his sore body, Frederick groaned and slowly lifted himself to a sitting position. He stretched his hands far above his head, moaning in relief as his body snapped back into place with a symphony of cracks. For the past few days, Whitney's hunting lessons were slowly beating his body into a bruised, weary, knotted mess. It was hard but he was learning a lot of really useful information and skills; Such as how to claw your preys legs so they'll be unable to run, all the major arteries in the neck, using your prey's fear as a weapon against them as you led them into a trap, and how to properly run. Frederick's favorite lesson so far was learning about the various traps used in hunting. He enjoyed scanning his surroundings and mentally constructing new and different mechanisms with what was in front of him. Then he saw the tent flap come up and Whitney pop his head through it.
"Oh, good morning. I hope you slept well. Come out and eat, we have more work to do." Whitney said and promptly drew back. The boy crawled out of his tent, his bones creaking with every step. He groaned as he stood up and a wave of tinging aches inflamed his leg muscles. Whitney, who was sitting by the fire with two plates of raw meat and eggs, motioned to a steaming cup on the bench. "I figured you would still be sore from yesterday, so I made a blend that should ease some of the aches." Frederick nodded and mumbled out a thank you as he slumped down onto the log and gulped down the tea, ignoring the burn caused by the still steaming liquid. He scarfed down his breakfast with apathetic abandon; His grass hued eyes half closed with stubborn exhaustion, fighting the urge to fall back asleep. Whitney sat across and watched him, slightly fascinated by how quickly the ex-prince abandoned his proper etiquette. He waited until they both finished their meals before saying, "We need to run a few errands." Frederick groaned. "Please tell me it involves sitting down and waiting. I feel like an old man." Whitney reached into his pack and tossed him a second dark black cloak.
"No. We're going into the village."
Frederick's squinty green eyes grew to the size of serving plates as he leapt from his seat. "WHAT!? ARE YOU CRAZY!? I CAN'T GO TO THE VILLAGE! THE WHOLE KINGDOM IS OUT LOOKING FOR ME!" Frederick shouted. Whitney winced as he covered his left ear. "Why the
yelling? I'm literally right in front of you and I've already taken care of that issue. All you have to do is keep that cloak on, try not to draw any attention to yourself, and we won't have any problems." Whitney replied as he got up from his seat and started to stomp out the embers of their fire. Frederick stared at Whitney with his mouth slightly agape, absolutely stupefied. *Does he not see how that is a terrible plan?*
"You do know that the cloaks are just going to make us stand out even more? Who isn't going to be ogling at two sketchy-as-fuck dudes, one the size of a bear and the other a fugitive, and not lose their shit?" Frederick replied with cock eyed gaze. Whitney's stoic expression slipped for a brief moment; A hint of pink tinted his cheeks as he became flustered but he composed himself just as quickly. "But… We…. Ok, fine. Your right, that's a problem, but we do need to get supplies from town. They have materials there that we can't get here."
"Really? Like what?" Frederick sarcasm edging his tone. Whitney looked down. "Well, shoes for a start." Frederick's gaze went to his feet. They were black with caked on dirt and spotted with leaves. Beneath the layer of earth, his soles were thick with rough calluses.
Now it was Frederick's turn to blush. "Ok, good point. But I can wait here and hold down the fort while you go."
"Absolutely not. What if a monster attacks the camp? You have no idea how to defend yourself if that were to happen."
"I'll just use what you taught me."
Whitney's razor eyes glinted darkly as he replied,
"That's different. Those were normal everyday creatures. Cryptids… are an entirely different matter... one wrong move…. One wasted moment…. And you'll be dead on your feet."
A cold chill traveled through his nerves and prickled his skin; Frederick could feel in his bones that Whitney was right, so he took the cloak from his seat.
"What do we need?" he asked.
Whitney started walking towards the tree line as he said, "Well, we need to get some medical supplies, some limes, rope, a few vegetables, some tarp-" The rest of Whitney's words faded out as Frederick numbly walked toward the river bank, slipping on his cloak as he did. He felt the bottom hem line drag on the ground. When he got to the edge, he stared at his reflection in the water.
I feel like a toddler trying on his dad's 's clothes no way that just covering my face is going to work. They'll know it's me in a second. And when they do… Frederick involuntarily squeezed the fabric of his cloak as he thought back to the screams of fear and anger; the clawing, grabbing and beating of multiple hands that descended on him like massive waves beating against a rocky cliff. He trembled as his mind raced with grim possibilities. I can't let that happen….. It can't happen…. Not again…. What if I don't make it this time? What if Whitney gets killed trying to save me?….. What if-
"Hey, kid."
He turned to his left to see Whitney, eyes glowing with determination. "I already made a promise to you that I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. When we go into that village, no matter what happens, we'll be ok." Frederick took in a few deep breaths as he let Whitney's words settle into his bones. He noticed, after spending a few days with Whitney, that his words carried a certain warmth to them. For years, his father always chastised and mocked him when he would have moments of nervousness or show any of his true feelings. So he tried to have his moments when he was alone and would filter his emotions when he was with his family. But Whitney met them with calm understanding and even encouragement when he found himself beating himself up over a mistake. He felt like…. It was okay to be himself around him. "Ok, just give me a sec." Frederick walked over to the fire pit and picked up a handful of soot. He began to rub the black powder into his hair as Whitney stared at him, quizzically. When his bright blonde hair turned a moonless black, he smudged some on his face for good measure. When he was done, he turned back to Whitney, mustering up all the determination and courage he had, "I'm ready."
Gwen entered the kitchen and picked up the apron from the hook set by the door, still in the plain black dress from this morning's service. She brought out flour, eggs, butter, and sugar from the pantry and began her task of making cinnamon rolls. She knew it was an odd thing to do, especially after a funeral, but she always felt better doing tasks for others and baking was a hobby that she adored. She loved the smiles it brought to her family's faces anytime she made something tasty. So anytime she felt sad or stressed out, she found herself baking. But as she stirred the ingredients, she couldn't help but feel that something was amiss. Gwendolyn knew that all families were different and thus showed affection differently and interacted with one another uniquely.
But when she was at the service something felt….. Unnatural.
The ceremony took place in the town chapel and Gwen and her family took their seats in the front pews, in the aisle across from the Plaid family. As the priest spoke about death and new beginnings, she glanced over to the Plaid family and knew that something was not right.
Lance looked absolutely devastated. His black and white plaid clothes, which were the dress code for the funeral, were wrinkled and messy; She could see dark stains on the collar and the sleeves, strong evidence of horrible sobbing. His eyes were bleary, red, and puffy; Gwen felt her heart tighten as she imagined him crying all night. His swollen red eyes contrasted sharply with his newly blanched pallor and his entire body looked like a crumpled up piece of wet paper, soggy and falling to pieces. Blaine looked a bit more put together. His suit and face were clean and immaculate as always but when Gwen peered more closely, she could see that he was tightly clenching his knees, his jaw was locked, and his eyes were shimmering with tears that for some odd reason he was refusing to let fall. To Gwen, these looked like normal faces you see at a loved ones funeral.
But the King and Queen's demeanor turned her heart to ice.
The Queen's tears and her eulogy seemed rehearsed and artificial. In fact when she sat back down, Gwen could see that she slipped a small onion from her long sleeves into her dress pocket.
King Leland stuck out the most.
Throughout his speech, his face was hard and rigid. When he started talking about Frederick's early childhood, Gwen detected not an ounce of warmth or sadness on his face. It seemed cold and impersonal like he was more of a stranger then a father to Frederick. The only time he showed emotion was when he started talking about his anti-cryptid squad and the war on monsters and witches.
He didn't seem to care at all.
Gwen took the soft batter from the bowl and started to knead it on the floured counter top. No matter how you look at it, the King and Queen's actions were weird. What kind of parents don't even cry or show even a little bit of sadness at their own son's funeral? Even if he was a monster that replaced
your real son, you would still be a mess. Frederick's words about artificial adoration came to her. But they couldn't be true, could it? She was talking to the monster. But it didn't feel like it wanted to harm her and it had a good opportunity to do so. They were all alone in the library; No one had even come near it. And the "monster's" words…. They made sense now. Gwen began to pound the dough, frowning and trying to wrap her head around it all. It was so much to figure out and so much to process. Gwen didn't even see what happened at the ball. All she knew was that people started screaming and running in fear all of a sudden. She was able to get out thanks to the artist, Leopold, who was talking to her at the party about how beautiful she looked and led her out safely amongst the chaos. But other than that, she didn't see anything of what happened very clearly. But she couldn't help but feel a pit of dread form in her stomach when she thought of the king's behavior. Something was not right. It felt like she was looking at a puzzle with several missing pieces and the whole world was trying to tell her that it was complete.
"Gwenie?"
Gwen jumped as she turned to face Jamie, who was peeking in from behind the door; His sparkling violet eyes glimmered with warm concern.. "We wanted to check up on you since it was your first time at a funeral. Are you doing alright?"he asked as he entered the kitchen followed by their other two sisters. Gwen nervously wiped her hands on her apron while stuttering, "Uhh.. I'm sorry…. I just started to…. bake to take my mind off…. Oh, wait that sounds terrible…" Maria, now in her normal blue attire, says, "No, no. You don't have to apologize, Gwen. It's healthy to take your mind off of troubles by doing the things you love." Lorena chimed in, "Yeah. That way you can confront your problems with a clear head. And to be honest, we would have been more worried if you weren't stress baking." Gwen smiled softly. "Thanks, guys. I didn't mean to make you worry." Jamie took Gwen's hand into his own; His slender fingers wrapping around her own. "Gwenie, you don't have to pretend to be fine around us. Know that, we will always be open to listen to your feelings. It's no trouble for us." Lorena pulled Gwen into a hug, "If we weren't there for our little sister, then what kinda siblings would we be?" she said. Maria and Jamie joined in on the hug. Gwen smiled as she felt the warmth of her siblings, tearing up slightly at their tender sweetness. "Actually, I do have something to talk about with you. Just give me about 10 minutes." Jamie nodded. "Alright, come when you're ready. We'll be around." When they left the kitchen, she took the dough and started to mold them into tasteful twists.
Whitney peeked out from a grove of thin birch trees, looking at the town several meters across from them. A shadowed and small alleyway faced the woods; It would serve as the most perfect discreet entrance. From where he stood, dozens of people passed by. (A little busy today. But this might work in our favor. It'll be easier to blend in and nobody will bother us.)
"Ok, This is perfect. Seems like the whole town has an event going on. So that means everyone will be too distracted and no one will even give us a second look. Sound good?" Whitney said as he turned to Frederick. The teen stood behind him; For a second the elder man had almost mistaken him for someone else when he saw coal black hair instead of his sunflower yellow hair. Frederick stared at the town ahead of him with wide eyes; His green pupils had shrunk to marble size. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest as he shook so hard, Whitney thought he was going to shatter like a mirror. His skin was blanched to almost a sheet white tone as he pursed his lips together into a tight
line; His nose flared as he inhales and exhales in a jerky and rapid pattern that made Whitney concerned.
"Hey, are you alright? You don't look good." Whitney asked.
"Can you throw up all your vital organs? Cause I think I might." Frederick replied.
Whitney's eyes widen in surprise as he extends his hands toward Frederick but they stop and sort of just awkwardly move around. "Oh! Uhhh… Oh, boy… Ok, just sit down for a sec and take some deep breaths." Frederick sat down on the ground and brought his knees to chest, taking in shaky breaths to calm his racing heart and somersaulting stomach. It's ok. I'm fine. I just have to get myself together. C'mon…. In. And Out. He closed his eyes. . In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
"List all of the herbs and plants you know and their effects on the body."
"What?"
"Trust me. It'll help."
"Ok… Valerian is good for relieving tension, spasms, and insomnia. Ginger relieves nausea and vomiting. Strawberry leaves when steamed in tea, can ease nervousness and help with diarrhea. Buttercups are poisonous to eat when fresh and if you crush them between your hands, painful blisters will appear on your skin. Alliums or chives are used to stimulate appetite and aid digestion. Dewcup leaves are good for healing wounds and reducing inflammation when used as a compress….." Frederick continued listening off flora until he stopped shaking and his nerves slowed their constant firing. Whitney spoke up when he stopped smelling the fear laced ink smell. "Feeling better?" From the ground, Frederick met his companion's sterling eyes." Whitney, If even one person recognizes me out there, we'll both be killed. Do you understand that you'll be burned just by associating with me? How can you be so calm about that?" He asked. With a face as serene as a fall breeze, Whitney replied, "You're not a monster. At least not in the way they're thinking and if they find you out, I give you my word that I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe." Once again, Frederick felt a familiar warmth blossom in his chest; It wrapped around his trembling soul and released a flood of stillness that chased away his fears. He blinks his eyes several times to deter the slight welling of water from his eyes. *What? This feeling is back again…. I thought I only felt this way when Gwen.*
Whitney started to slowly stand up and Frederick followed suit. "Just stay close to me, keep your head down, and we should be fine." Frederick nodded as Whitney walked in the direction of the village. Frederick matched his stride with his and suddenly grabbed a handful of Whitney's cloak as
they entered the alleyway and walked into the main street. Both males felt relief as they noticed that a majority of the villagers were also wearing black cloaks; Some of them were black and grey plaid funeral cloaks, Frederick noted, only worn by the rich who could afford them. When they looked into the shop windows they saw simple signs written in beautiful cursive that said:
May Prince Frederick Rest In Peace.
The fugitive teen ogled the sign in shock as they passed the store. *Wow… they had a whole funeral just for me….. I didn't think that father or anyone would put this much effort into this... Are they really that broken up about it?* They passed by a group of women, who were speaking quite loudly, "How horrible. Can you imagine a monster taking the skin of someone you know and walking around in it like a child at a costume party. Brrrr…. Gives me chills thinking about it."
"Absolutely terrifying and disgustingly cruel. Attacking the fragile one in the family and pretending to be him. It was probably dissatisfied with Prince Frederick's sickly skin and wanted to try its luck at getting a better one. Maybe from one of the other brothers!
"That's sick!"
"I know and the scary thing is no one knows when the monster came. For all we know he was there for years."
"Really!? I knew there was something off with that boy. He always seemed to be lurking around and trying to hide. His brothers are so approachable and nice. He just seemed so….. Off. He never smiled at the functions, he stuck to the shadows like a ghoul, and just didn't interact with anyone. He must have really hated humans."
"Yes. He hardly talked to anyone even in school. I heard that he had no friends when he went to the academy, what kind of person doesn't at least make one friend? I also heard from the academy that while he was there a few of the boys went missing.
"Gasp* You don't think…."
"Perhaps… It's like I always say: Watch out for those quiet ones."
"My God, you're right!"
Frederick dashed pass the group quickly, surprising Whitney with a sudden pull that made him stumble a bit. His right hand gripped his cloak so tightly his knuckles turned white; A familiar spark spread its red hot embers on the walls of his chest.
*Of course, Why did I even bother…. You know what. Fuck it, doesn't matter. Not worth it.*
Whitney glanced at him, grey eyes alight with concern. "You ok?" he asked.
Frederick briskly nodded his head. "Yeah. Peachy." He replied with a grumble.
He glances over to his left in time to see a bookstore and stops in his tracks, eyes stuck on the shop window.
"What is it?" Whitney asked as he stood next to the teen.
Frederick is quiet for a moment, his attention fixated on the book in the center of the display. "That's… the new installment of Pen Warriors. It must have been released just today…. I had completely forgotten." Frederick replied in a soft voice. Whitney's expression softened. "Do you want to go inside for a quick look?" Frederick gave a small nod. Whitney looked over to the grocer stand to the left. "I think it would be best if you do that while I go get the food stuff. I'll be only a couple of feet from you, so if you need anything or get in any trouble, I'll be nearby. Ok?" Frederick nods numbly once again. Whitney walked towards the grocers building, leaving Frederick with his thoughts. Frederick goes over to the door of the bookstore but his hand stops centimeters away from the door handle. *Wait… You don't have any money, you idiot. You're not a prince anymore; No more getting the books you want by just forwarding the bill to the castle. Ha… I really am useless without my title and dad's money aren't I? I have no skills for living in town and I'm barely just learning how to survive in the enchanted forest. Hell, it's a miracle that I've survived this long…. All because of Whitney…. I'm really lucky…. Hang on, does Whitney have a way to pay for any of the supplies?* He gets his answer when he hears a loud yell and sees Whitney stumbling backwards out of the shop. The shop keeper, a middle aged, heavy set man with patchy black hair, points a shot gun at his moonlight hued friend. "Fuck off ya stripped bastard. I'm runnin' a business here, not a charity." the
man says in a loud voice. Whitney held out his hands in front of him. "Sir, please. I'm just asking if you can spare some of your vegetables. We'll take whatever you can give with no complaint."
The man sneered showing off his fecal hued teeth, colored by tobacco. "We?"
"Yes me and my… brother." Whitney said as he tilted his head towards Frederick. The man turned to him and glared at him with his beady black eyes; He had to turn his gaze to the ground as he felt the hateful stare bore into him. "Really, now?" The man said, his tone implying disbelief in the statement. Then he gave a cruel smirk as his voice turned menacingly playful and he lowered his gun and stepped so close to Whitney their noses nearly touched. "Well, then let me give you some advice." Suddenly the man spat a large glob of phlegm onto his face, "Get a job, you lazy rats!
Frederick gasps.
Whitney slowly wiped away the spit from his face, gaze focused on the man and observing him as he chuckled heartily. But one glance at the pale man's face caused the shop keep to stop his chortling. Frederick felt his skin burst into goosebumps as he sensed a small but detrimental shift in Whitney's demeanor. His bolt colored eyes harden even more; His stare drilled into the man with its burning cold glare like flesh submerged in near frozen water. The man backed away, his angry eyes glinting with a fear. For a moment, he felt like a deer moments before having its neck snapped by a razor toothed mountain lion. Frederick shook himself out of his shocked gawking and approached his friend's side. "Hey, lets go." He said as he started to tug Whitney away by his cloak, the latter giving in and following. The shop keeper, still spooked, put on a shaky smile and yelled in a trembling mocking tone. "Ye..Yeah! That's right, you…sunless...bitch! Listen to your boy toy! He knows his place." Frederick growled under his breath. "Fucking perverted dick." Whitney turned his gaze to him, now back to his usual stern self, said in hushed tones.
"Frederick! Watch your mouth!"
"Whaaat? But he is! All you did was ask him for some day old vegetables! He didn't have to be such a bitchaloid about it. I mean seriously, a simple no would have been good but noooo. He had to go the extra mile and be all "Hey, look at me! I'm a total douche canoe. Bow before my supreme dick aura and choke on it, peasants!"
Whitney had to bite his cheek to hold back a chuckle. "People like that shouldn't make you resort to that kind of talk. In fact, you shouldn't be swearing at all. Its vulgar, disgusting, and frankly, it doesn't suit you at all." Frederick rolled his eyes and scoffed, " Sorry to disappoint you then, according to a lot of people, a lot of the things I do don't "suit me", Mr. Tight Ass." Whitney let out a heavy sigh. "Look, I…."
"You there!"
The two turn around to see a man in his 50s dressed in a white frilled shirt, brown coat, and black dress trousers heading towards them. His eyes were firmly on Frederick, who turned away from the man's piercing stare. Whitney spoke up, "Can we help you, sir?" The man stopped a few feet away from the duo, tilting his head and trying to get a better look at Frederick. He pointed to him.
"Boy, Take off your hood." Frederick clutched his cloak tighter as Whitney replied,
"Why does he need to do that?"
"His eyes…. They remind me of someone I know but I can't quite recall. I just need to see his face for a moment." The man extends a hand to grab the hood but Whitney moves in between them. "I would rather you didn't. He doesn't like strangers."
"Balderdash. Let me have a quick look." The brown coated man replied as he tried to get around Whitney only to be blocked every time.
"Sir, please stop."
"Why are you making this so difficult. I demand that your friend removes his hood this instant!" Then the man faked a dash to the right, causing Whitney to leave Frederick open on the left, giving the man enough time to make a wild grab for his hood. Frederick nimbly dodged away from the man's grasp, feeling the rich man's fingertips graze the fabric just barely.
*Run*; A command brought about by a burst of deep seeded primal panic had enough persuasion and power to get him to dash away from the two men.
"Hey! Get back here, you little welp!" cries the man as he gives chase to him followed by Whitney. Frederick races through the street, not really gaining the speed he wanted due to the crowd of people. He found himself feeling claustrophobic as he tried to shimmy and evade through the shoulders and backs of people. *I've got to get away. I have to hide. I have to lose him.* He scanned the area around him and to his relief found a nice dark alley to his right. He bolts to it, hoping he could disappear there, but his heart sank with dismay as he saw a tall grey wall.
*NONONONONONO…. I'm trapped! What do I do?! I need to go back!*
That option was quickly taken out of the equation when the royal man and Whitney appeared at the entrance, blocking his only way out. The rich man's face is red from the sudden exertion and he was panting and gasping deeply. His eyes were bright with frustration and anger. "Young man... remove … your hood….. Immediately." He said in between breaths, sweat beading his brows.
Frederick, facing the wall with sweat soaking his palms, tightened his grip around his hood.
*OH, FUCKARONI! Ok… Ok… Don't panic… There might still be a way to defuse this whole situation….. This guy obviously remembers me, albeit vaguely….. Maybe I can convince him that a lot of people mistake me for Prince Frederick. Just calmly explain the confusion and we'll all have a laugh about it…. Who am I kidding, I'm not that slick…. Hell, the last time I tried to lie, I was caught in 5 seconds…. I'm a horrible liar….. Not like Blaine. He always knew how to bend and stretch his words in such a way, you could call it an art form….. And his looks helped a lot in that department too. Anytime some crazed female fan of his would ask for a date, all he had to do was bat his rustic red eyes, give that perfect smile of his, and boom the girl was sold on any excuse he went with. If there was ever a perfect time to have that skill it would be now... Why did you run away, you spineless idiot!*
"Turn around!" commanded the man. Frederick took a deep breath as he turned to face the man; His oversized hood shadowed most of his face.
*I have a disguise. I could have just played it cool earlier and done what he wanted. Then if he thought I looked familiar, I could have given him the whole "Oh, I get that a lot." song and dance. But no, I had to run away like the suspicious twat I am. Stupid… Stupid…... Blaine wouldn't have lost his composure like that. He would have laughed it off and humored the man. He would have flashed him that charming smile and everything would be fucking great*
"Now, let me see your face." the man said.
Frederick slowly pulled back his hood; Every muscle in his body was taunt, tight, and ready for the absolute worst possible outcome. He met the man's eyes, which grew to the size of dinner plates and his jaw dropped open.
*Well, Here comes the bullshit.*
The man frantically scrambled into a messy bow. "Your Highness! I'm so sorry! Please forgive me! I didn't know it was you."
*HUH!?*
The man looked back and forth between Whitney and Frederick, his face lighting up with sudden clarity.
"Ah, I see what's going on."
He looked to Whitney and pointed. "You must be the prince's new escort. Hired to protect Prince Blaine while he's outside the palace. And this whole disguise business is just an extra precaution. I must say that's very clever."
*Prince….BLAINE!?*
The next thing he knew they were being gently ushered out of the alley by the man, who was now smiling from ear to ear. "Let's get out of this unsavory place, can't have people thinking we're shady criminals. Once again, I deeply apologize for my rash and unruly behavior, your highness."
*What the hell is happening? Why is this man calling me Blai-*
Frederick's train of thought came to a screeching halt when he saw his reflection in the shop window across the street. He rushed over to the window and let out a yelp of shock when it was clear there was no mistake.
Blaine's face stared right back at him with his auburn hair, rose petal eyes, and almond shape face. Frederick ran his fingers across his skin, pinching and tugging at every inch of his face to see if it was real.
It was.
Other than the dark circles under his eyes, Frederick's face was molded into the spitting image of his elder brother. "Ohhhhh my God. Is this really me?" he said to himself, eyes fixated on the window. In its glassy surface, he saw the rich man and Whitney approaching him from behind. He turned around. Whitney's grey eyes stared at him with a mixture of confusion, shock, and disbelief, his mouth opening and closing like a fish; Obviously at a loss for words. The man, however, gave a sympathetic smile. "Oh you poor boy. You look absolutely exhausted. To have your brother taken from you in such a violent manner and then be surrounded by all that grief at the funeral. My goodness, that must have been stifling! You just wanted to take a breather and get away from it all for just a few moments. Don't you worry about a thing, my lord. I will exercise the utmost discretion in concern with your visit. Please allow me to make up for my behavior by offering my services. Anything you wish, anything you require it will be done."
It took a few seconds for Frederick to process the situation and the man's offer. When he got his wits back, he flashed his best Blaine smile and replied, "Well, now that you mention it….."
The sun was halfway across the sky when the duo left town and walked back to camp with their supplies. Frederick, with Blaine's face, was grinning from ear to ear as he followed Whitney back to camp wearing his new sturdy hiking boots and carrying the vegetables and medical supplies in his arms. It was an understatement to say that he felt awesome. While that whole situation had been scary and nerve racking, it left him with something… new. His heart was racing, not with nerves, but with exhilaration. Every part of him was charged up by an energy that bounced around inside of him
and tickled his bones, making him smile even more. When they crossed the line into the enchanted forest, Frederick's excitement was pushed over the edge when he felt the familiar bubbling, fizzy euphoria. He let out a joyful scream and skipped high into the air, scaring the daylights out of Whitney, who jumped back, almost dropping the large tarp he was carrying and the tools. Frederick continued to run and skip around the forest while laughing like a kid on Christmas morning; The feeling of exuberant glee made him feel like he could sprout wings and fly. Whitney put his fingers to his lips and tried to take the bags away from the bounding cryptid.
"Shhhhh! Frederick, keep your voice down! Something might hear you." he said in a whisper. Frederick stopped jumping and beamed at Whitney with his brother's soft red eyes. "That was amazing! Did you see what happened? That dude really thought I was Blaine! For a second, when he said I looked familiar, I almost pissed myself. But then I…. Ha Ha Ha Ha! Whitney do you know what this means? I can be whoever I want! I don't have to hide! Hell, if we ever need anything again, I could just look like this and get anything we need." He said as he started to bounce on his toes. Whitney stood there with a half concern and half perturbed look in his eyes, at a complete loss at what to do. His brows furrowed with bewilderment as he observed the normally morose and reserved teen transformed into a completely different person.
Literally.
"Hold on… Don't get ahead of yourself. You just found out you could do this and have absolutely no clue how to control it. Besides, aren't people going to get suspicious if you keep showing up as the prince while people have seen him elsewhere?"
Frederick's smile froze on his face as his eyes dulled with shocked realization.
"Oh… Yeah."
Whitney sighed as he walked through the brush that led to their camp and put down the supplies on the ground. "You do have a point though. Being able to change your face will come in handy when we have to go back. We just need to figure out how it hap…. pens..." Suddenly, his back arched up like he was struck by lightning. Whitney slowly turned to Frederick; The teen grew nervous when he saw Whitney's colorless orbs observing him sternly with a hint of fear in their depths.
"Do you know how to turn back?" he asked.
Frederick felt a cold pit grow in his stomach. "UHhhhhhhh… I don't… know…. wait ….. Maybe." He shut his eyes tight as he thought back to all the times he saw his face. He thought about his blond physics defying hair that frustrated him to no end, his average sized soft body that was mocked relentlessly by his father, his green eyes... He heard a startled gasp followed by a choke and opened his eyes. Whitney was on the ground, apparently in the middle of backing away. His eyes were wide and his mouth agape.
"What's wrong? Did it work?" Frederick asked, worried that he messed up. Whitney stumbled to his feet, face red and flustered "No… Nothing is wrong. I just... Your face started shifting and… some parts deflated…. It just really surprised me."
Frederick turned his gaze to the ground. *You mean scared you.*
Whitney dusted himself off, regaining his composure, and went over to the bags. He crouched down and began to pull out ropes, pulleys, hammers, and nails. When he pulls out one of Frederick's books, he furrows his brows as he reads the silver title. "Pen Warriors?" Frederick hurries over to him when he hears him. "Uh… I can explain. That's just-" Whitney looks back in the bag and pulls out
two more books, "Simple Machines and More, Myths and Monsters: Encyclopedia of Cryptids From Around the World… I remember you picking out these but I didn't see you picking up the third." Frederick took the book from Whitney's hand and held it protectively. "I just got it to read for fun, ok…" He said as he stared at the ground, dreading his response. *He's probably going to laugh at me. Or scold me for buying something frivolous and useless.*
Whitney stood up, carrying ropes and pulleys in his hands. "Oh, that's good. Reading is very relaxing and it'll be healthy for you to destress during down time." He went over and started scanning the trees as Frederick stared at him with confusion and surprise.
*He's not making fun of me?*
Whitney turned to Frederick and motioned him over. Frederick walked to his side and saw that he had the machine book open to the pulleys and ropes chapter while looking up at the trees and examining them with a critical eye. "Do you think we can find a strong tree near here? It would be best to have you still near the camp, but if there's a tree with strong branches that's further away, it might be best to make the tree house there as long as I can see you."
"We're making a tree-house? That actually sounds cool."
"It is. So which tree has the strongest branches?"
"Well, we have to see which tree is alive and what kind of structure we want to….."
The boys decided on a simple model; A single large plank of wood that serves as the floor which would be sheltered by the canvas of the tent. The second square of canvas would be used as an additional wall to keep out the elements. The ropes, pulleys, and a spare plank of wood would be used as a mini elevator to deliver supplies or food up to it. The two started to build the wood floor, Whitney held the nails as Frederick hammered them. Whitney turned his head to him, curiously looking at him. "What... is that book about?"
"You've never heard about Pen Warriors?"
"My father didn't believe that one should waste their time on frivolous endeavors. So he forbade us from reading fictional stories."
Frederick sneered in disgust. "Uch, What a jerk! I hate it when people judge books like that. Pen Warriors is a great series. While it might be fiction, the character interactions are very true to life and give you a whole new outlook on friendships and romances. Also the story telling is amazing! I like how they avoid the usual bland and boring stereotypes of the MC and his love interest; Seriously why do they write the girl as the most useless character and the guy as this confident and over powered dude? This story completely tosses all those tropes in the garbage fire they deserve! It's about this guy that's not really all that popular in school, so all he does is read in the library. Then he discovers that he can summon characters out of books. But then….."
The two continue to build the modest upper level shelter while Frederick continues to gab about his favorite serial from start to finish. Throughout it all, Whitney noticed that Frederick was actually really good with transposing the designs from the book into reality and even made some improvements. All the while he was relaxed, talkative, and joyfully smiling from ear to ear. It warmed his own heart to see the usually nervous teen so happy. When they were done they looked back up at their handiwork, they saw that the sun was just beginning to set. "We're going to need to hunt for some meat tonight. You wanna come? You probably want to rest since today was pretty hectic and you might still be sore from yesterday."
Frederick turned to him and smiled; The black coal dye job was slowly being washed away by sweat and it streaked down his face in long black stripes. "Thanks! But I'll at least cook some of those vegetables for tonight while you're gone. I think the cucumbers will pair well with the blood and I really want to try it." Whitney smiled warmly at him and had to fight the urge to ruffle Frederick's hair. "I've never seen you smile like that before."
Frederick felt his mouth go wider as the perfect response came to mind.
"Neither have I. I thought that you lost it somewhere."
Whitney chuckled quietly "Nice to know I still can."
*I think... We're friends now. Is this how it feels to have a friend? Because it feels amazing…* Frederick scratched at his skin, feeling sticky, sweaty, and uncomfortable. Without a word, he peeled off his skin and started walking to the river. "Ech. I need a wash." he said as Whitney, neutral expression back in all its glory, started walking to the treeline. "I'll see you in about an hour." he said.
"Ok, later." Frederick replied as he reached the river and slowly submerged his warm body into the cool water.
Whitney sat in the cool green grass gazing up at the waxing moon. His sensitive ears perked up at every cricket chirp and leaf crackle. While most would be in awe at the beauty of the slowly filling moon, he couldn't help but clench the grass between his fingers as his heart squeezed with nervousness. He looked up at Frederick's tree house, hearing the teen snore away between the branches. Frederick's good mood continued all throughout dinner, talking or asking questions about the kind of creatures he had seen while here. He even felt comfortable enough to keep his skin off for the rest of the night. Whitney felt his heart ache when he thought about how Frederick was starting to warm up to him; Someone who could become his worst nightmare in a flash.
(He can't come down there when it's time. But what if it's not enough? I could still hurt him. No…. I can't let that happen….. I have to take every precaution….. No mistakes.)
Another chapter down, Yay me! Whoooo! this one was tough to write. For some strange reason I kept over complicating certain interactions between Frederick and Whitney. While reading it, I couldn't help but feel like I made Frederick way too sarcastic, to the point of being mean. So I had a friend from outside the fandom read the chapter and she said that Whitney and Frederick reminded her of the type of friends that are really comfortable with being themselves around each other, while still having funny quarrels. Which gave me all the security I need to continue with my progression. I'm also glad that I got to write a moment with Gwen and how she is dealing with everything. Because I really wanted to include her after giving her an appearance at the ball. I hope I was able to properly capture her character in that segment. Gwen just seemed to strike me as someone that would notice things like fake emotions and be suspicious about the King. I'm also going to write a segment focusing on Lance, because I know you all want to know what's going through his head right now. Which brings me to some exciting news….
Next chapter, We see our first other cryptid! Hooray!
I am so pumped for this, I've been waiting to write out the chapter with our first look at a monster, besides Whitney and Frederick. I'm keeping it a secret but it's gonna be good.
(Spoiler warning)
Also for anyone who might ask. I planned the majority of this fic before the new chapters revealed that Whitney could not turn into a weretiger, so in my fic he can and like prez he can't control himself when he is in that form.
I'll be taking a short break since it's the holidays. And I already got the best present.
Over 100 hits of Cpc: The Secret of the Plaid Family!
Thank you all so much for reading and going on this weird little horror ride with me. Also, thank you to AichiMarshmellowPeaches98 for helping me get out of my head and get a new perspective.
Happy Holidays everyone!
