Transition of Power

(Day 64-65: Sunday Afternoon-Monday Afternoon)

Ben stops and then slowly steps up a few more of the white, stone stairs, as he hears his father yell, "She isn't a girl. She's a monster."

"Adam," his mother patiently responds.

"I just don't understand why he can't just leave his options open." Ben can hear how much his father is trying to hold back his anger, the ridged pauses and tenseness of his words. "He should be dating some nice princess, not that devil's daughter."

"He loves her," she tries to reason.

"He's sixteen," his father shouts. "He doesn't know what the fuck love even is." He sees the black haired maid step next to him, holding an armful of towels, and he stretches his arm out in front of her, before she looks at him and he motions for her to be quiet. "Hell. I know I didn't know what it was."

"Adam. That's just because you didn't have a set example."

Ben eyes the dining room again, but the wall is in the way of where his parents are. "He should be dating a nice, moral girl who doesn't cause negative publicity."

"Like Audrey," his mother skeptically comments.

"Yes— No," his father quickly answers before taking a deep breath. "Just, you know… A girl who doesn't cause trouble. Someone he can settle down with, someone that can make his life the best it can be."

"And you think Mal can't do that?"

"I think," Adam slowly states, "that Ben deserves a girl who can give all of herself to him. He doesn't deserve this loose, fairy dragon— whatever she is."

"I don't understand," Ben's mother replies. "Do you not like the girl because she has a sexual history, or do you not like her because she has magic? Or something else?"

"How about everything," he shouts again, and Ben can almost see his mother roll her eyes, as he hears a loud, annoyed breath escape her. "Not only does she have magic and not only is she—" There's a pause, and Ben predicts that it's because his father is raising an arm up to gesture. "That girl has been with other girls. Hell. She may still be. You saw his interview, how he said he talked with Evie and had set those—" His father spats, "Conditions." Ben hears the footsteps, "You can't honestly say that this monster is what you want for our son."

"You forget," his mother points out, "that my father didn't take very kindly to you either." and then there's brief silence. "She makes him happy. Isn't that all that matters, is that we're happy?"

He hears his father calm down, letting out a long breath. "She may make him happy now, but who's to say that they will be happy ten years from now?"

"They're still young," his mother notes. "And he doesn't have a time limit like you did. Just give it some time. If it works out, then great. If not… at least she's making him happy at this current time." She urges, "We need to focus on the moment; we need him to be happy in this moment."

"I want him to be happy longer than a moment," his father softly speaks. "I don't want him investing in this— in someone who's not going to invest the same amount in him."

"King Ben," the maid speaks up.

Ben nods, before he whispers, "You can go now." and with that he trails back down the stairs to his office, deciding that the soda can wait.

When Ben opens the door to the dorm his jaw drops at the sight of his mother standing over Doug near the table. She lets out a breath of relief, "Thank God, you're okay." before she continues with a slight sternness. "Where've you been? I've been calling you."

"I was with the councilor," Ben explains as he comes in and shuts the door. "My phone is still off from class." He sees his mother place a hand to her forehead. "Why? What's going on?"

"This." She holds out a yellow, lined paper, "The maid found this in your office today."

Ben notices the large words he had scribbled and then underlined in frustration, "I thought the maids didn't know French."

"Well, lucky for me," his mother stresses, "she thought it seemed important enough to invade your privacy and look up."

Ben stares at the paper for a moment, "I know it looks bad." before he wets his lips. "But I never intended to kill myself. It was just a game."

"A game?" his mother raises her eyebrows in disbelief.

"It was just that," Ben softly speaks, "you know, that everyone just wants me dead. So…" He frowns up at her, "I'm sorry. I never imagined you would see it."

She stares at him with sad eyes, "You scared me, you know."

"I know."

She steps forward, "And you're still scaring me."

"Mom," Ben says, before the tears leave her eyes and she wraps her arms around him.

He shuts his eyes as he takes in her scent, "I would never want to hurt you."

"You can't leave me," she cries. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," Ben's frown deepens, before she lets go of him. "You have my word. I don't plan on leaving you any time soon."

"At all," she makes him promise.

"At all," he repeats. "I'm sorry, Mom."

She lets out a breath, "If your father knew about this—"

"You're not going to tell him," Ben's voice raises in worry.

"Of course, not," she nearly laughs. "You know we can't have him trying to take back the thrown, not with how it impacts his health."

Ben glances down, "Mother." before he sighs. "About that." He notices a hint of worry in her expression. If he turns back now, he could see her smile again; however, he knows he has to tell her. He wets his lips again, "I, uh." He gestures unsurely, "I don't think he's better."

"What are you talking about?"

Ben notices Doug watching intently, before he states with conviction, "I don't think he's better, not even better than he was before. I think he's still stressed, maybe even more so."

It takes a minute for his mother to excuse, "Retirement can be stressful for some people." before she places a hand on his shoulder. "Just give him some time to learn to enjoy it. When he does, it will be best for everyone."

Ben eyes past her for a second in hesitance, "I… I don't think he wants to be better."

His mother uneasily smiles, "What are you talking about, Ben? Of course, he does."

"Then why does he keep involving himself in official matters?" Ben questions, before he asserts, "If he really wanted to be better, then he would be trying to enjoy retirement. But I don't think he's even accepted it. He keeps getting involved. He keeps stressing about it all."

He watches his mother offer him a look of worry. "Honey." She begins to speak in French, "Has something happened?"

"Nothing specific," Ben switches as well. "I'm just… I'm worried. I'm worried that this plan we had to cause him less stress has actually made things worse."

"Has he become worse?" his mother questions.

Ben almost speaks, but the breath escapes his mouth as he lifts a shoulder, "It's hard to say. Yes and no, I suppose. He's just… he's different. And yet… he's not." He shakes his head, "I'm not making any sense."

She places her hands on his shoulders, "I understand that this transition of power must be very hard on both you and your father. It makes sense that he would be different, but of course it's not going to change how he processes things." She pauses, "For now, just be patient."

"I'm terrible at being patient," Ben warns.

His mother offers an uneasy expression, "Yes, but it is better if you are. It's going to take some time for your father to realize that he doesn't need to concern himself with so much anymore." She hesitates, "And, if anything does happen…" She looks away for a moment, before she attempts to smile, "I hope you do know that you can come to me."

"Mom," Ben attempts to explain, before he slightly shakes his head. "Sometimes there's so much that happens or so much to explain that it becomes nothing, where it becomes that there is nothing to say."

"Then find a way to explain it," she stresses.

It takes a moment for him to say, "Sometimes there are no words for it. How can I explain it if— if it's something that just happened? I mean, when you trip you don't just stop everything you're doing. No. You get right back up and continue running or walking. It's something that just happened." He makes a noise, "There are no words for it."

She frowns, "It's important that you find a way to tell me these things."

Ben slightly shakes his head, "I can't stop my life to tell you whenever something inconvenient happens."

"When it comes to your father, you should," she quietly urges.

He lifts a shoulder, "I'll try to be more vocal about it, I guess."

The corners of his mother's frown rise, but her eyebrows still furrow in sad worry, "I'm just so glad you're safe." She kisses him on the forehead, "I've got to go now, but, please, take care of yourself."

Ben attempts to smile back, "I will."

After Ben's mother leaves Doug questions, "What was that about?"

"Hmm?" Ben asks.

"The French," Doug clarifies. "What was that about?"

Ben looks down for a moment, "We were just discussing my father's health."

"Something about stress, right?" he unsurely assumes. "That's why you and your mother don't want him to take the crown back." Ben gives a look. "Is it a heart problem? People with heart problems are often told to reduce stress."

He lets out a breath, "I really can't talk about it."

"I'm not a reporter," Doug slowly comments. "You can talk to me, you know."

It takes a second for Ben to assert, "Not about this."

"Are you at least talking to the councilor about it?" Ben looks away. "If there's something going on with your father's health, then it must be affecting you. You should be able to talk about it with at least someone."

"That would be unwise of me," he states.

"Why?"

Ben opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He lets the breath out before shaking his head, "I don't know why, okay? It just feels wrong to talk about it."

"Okay," Doug slowly accepts.

Ben sighs before sitting down at the table, "Can you help me with my psychology vocab?"

"Yeah. Okay."

"Thanks," Ben breathes before he hands over his notebook and goes to go grab a soda from the mini fridge.

- Thank you to DeathCrawler for breaking the silence. Your comments may typically be short and not very specific; however, since no one else has really commented over the last couple weeks it made me feel better and less insecure and paranoid, which is very nice of you. Seriously. Thank you. Also, a guest commented to congratulate me on reaching a 100 chapters. I would like to tell that person thank you, but I would also like to say that for me the real testament of my writing will be if I can complete this fanfiction with 200 chapters or less. Now, I completely suck at outlining, but I think I've situated things enough where I can end the fic at 200 chapters. So, if you've made it this far, congrats. Assuming things go to plan, you should be at least halfway done. (Not saying that everything is going to end all neat and tidy. There are a few plot points I wanted to extend into the next fic; however, this should end on a relatively calm or somber note. Yes. A nice, sad ending for everyone... I think I warned you, but I'm not entirely sure... I sorry?)