This is my Idea of Love

by Rebel Paisley

When a new union of countries was discovered on the other side of the continent, it was decided that the best way to establish peace would be via political marriage. So a contingent of young Auradon royalty went to the new continent to meet the other heirs. Chad himself was just tagging along for the ride, exploring the new world and definitely not wooing anyone. (Poly fic)

22. Deleted Scenes

Chapter 22 – Deleted Scenes

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-:-:-

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The Erebor Arc

Notes: So yes, I did have every intention of including Doug in his shindig as a prince of Erebor – a half dwarf/half elf prince. This arc was supposed to be right after the Moors, I believe, before Tangu, but while I love Doug as a character, I ultimately ended up cutting him. When all the other country scenes were finished up and it was just Erebor that was causing me trouble, I realized that I didn't actually need yet another young royal to fall for Chad. I set Doug aside for a potential sequel, but as you'll see later on in these deleted Scenes, that didn't quite pan out either.

So here's a collection of Erebor scenes that I never quite strung together.

-:-:-

The mountain kingdom of Erebor was nothing like Chad expected, but in the best possible way. When the place had been explained to him, he'd been afraid of dark, narrow corridors devoid of any feel of comfort, but the real thing couldn't have been farther from what he'd imagined.

No, the halls of Erebor were huge and grandiose, filled with the light of enchanted torches, and each and every surface seemed to be utilized as an opportunity to display some kind of art – whether it be carving or tapestries or sculptures. Chad had learned that the dwarves of Erebor were very much artisans – and each and every one of them picked up a craft of some kind – whether it was metal working or scribing or weaving or musical instruments. It made for a very artistic, dedicated culture, which combined with the dwarves natural penance for fighting made them honed warriors that were capable of creating great works of art.

Chad loved it. He loved the small room he and Ben shared that didn't feel cold or scary despite being carved from a mountain – lit by glowing crystals and a fireplace that kept the room feeling exactly as cozy as Chad wanted.

"Do you like it?" Ben asked as they unpacked their things, Chad getting lost admiring the intricate wood carvings in their dresser (when he wasn't staring at their woven blankets or the engraved tables).

"I love it," Chad said, running his hands carefully along the surface of the polished wood. "Just think, Ben, someone spent the time making this – making every one of those pieces. Those murals. It's so… inspiring."

"It is, isn't it?" Ben agreed with a smile, which was how Chad knew his whims weren't dumb.

The next day brought Chad to the grand library of Erebor while Ben was in meetings, and while everyone was technically given the day off to rest after traveling, Chad couldn't imagine doing such a thing when there were so many books at his disposal.

"Oh wow," Chad said, craning his head back to stare at the rows upon rows of books that stretched up towards the ceiling, at the balconies and study cubicles and scholarly dwarves darting to and frow to attend to the lovely expanse of books.

"That's a common reaction," a proud voice next to him speaks up, and Chad looked down to see a kind dwarf with a short beard looking up at him. "Ori, son of Cori, at your service."

"Oh um- Chadwick, son of Christopher," Chad said, scrambling to remember what Ben's cultural outlines had explained. "At yours. But um- you can call me Chad, Master Ori."

It seemed that he must have gotten something right, because Master Ori merely smiled at him, something fond instead of aggressive. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Chad," he said, his voice gentle. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"Oh um-" Chad remembered back to the grand murals they had passed on the way in. "Are there any books in Common that cover the reclaiming of Erebor? Just- I saw the stonework on the way in and um… well, it all seems very amazing."

"It's definitely a good story," Master Ori said, his smile seeming to stretch even wider. "And one I will gladly guide you to." He motioned for Chad to follow him, and the blond got moving, trying not to ogle too much at their surroundings. "I was part of the company that worked to reclaim it, after all."

"Really?" Chad asked. "Not that I um- doubt you, of course, just- That's amazing, Master Ori. Could ask you some questions after I finish reading it? I've been trying to collect stories for Ben since he's stuck in meetings all day."

"Prince Benjamin?" Master Ori asked, quirking a brow at him. "Heir to the united kingdoms?"

"That's the one," Chad chirped. "He and his mom are major bookworms. I've been trying to read all I can to share with him at the end of each day, since he had to do important heir stuff."

"I will admit, I've heard nothing but good things about Prince Benjamin," Master Ori noted. "He's very mature for his age."

"Yeah, he is," Chad agreed with a smile. "I don't know how he does it, sometimes. I think I would crack under the pressure myself, but he loves Auradon so much that I think that helps keep him together, instead of like, falling apart like I would."

And had, but that was okay, he hadn't had a support structure before. Now he did, and he was slowly but surely building himself up.

"You shouldn't undersell yourself," Master Ori offered gently. "You seem like a fine young lad, Chad, and a good friend."

"Thank you, Master Ori," Chad said, feeling his cheeks heat in a flush. "And you're a very kind dwarf, if you don't mind me saying."

"I do not," the librarian offered with a grin, and then finally they seemed to arrive at a cozy nook with a fireplace already roaring, surrounded by comfy couches in a high-back chair. "Ah, here it is," he said, picking the book off a nearby table. "This one's a favorite and tends to make its home here rather than on a bookshelf. It's a great spot for reading, though."

"I think I'll test it out myself, if you don't mind," Chad said, eying the one chair that seemed to be sized for human.

"By all means," Master Ori said. "I'll let the other librarians know who you are, but go on – sit, read. That's what libraries are for."

"Thank you," Chad said, before he settled in to do just that, grinning at the novel cradled in his hands 'There and Back Again'.

It sounded an awful lot like his own adventure, which immediately made it a winner in his book.

-:-:-

Chad made it maybe a quarter of the way through the book (and it was amazing to see the trials a company of dwarves and one hobbit could get up to) when he received company, not that he immediately noticed, so engrossed was he in the tale of Master Baggins.

In fact, the only reason he realized anyone was close to him was because he pulled his gaze away from the book to stare off in thought, trying to imagine what a patrol of orcs would look like before he caught another teenager lingering on the edge of his reading nook dressed in dwarven-style clothing – a long, belted tunic with a high collar and long sleeves, tight leggings and sturdy boots. Despite being human, he too had long hair that had a multitude of braids woven through it the way most dwarfs did, and he even had an array of fancy hair beads clasped into them.

It made Chad guess that maybe the guy was adopted, but more than that, Chad was probably sitting in his chair.

"Sorry," Chad said, scrambling out of the human-sized seat. Of course Erebor had close ties with Hanover – which was likely why they had human-sized furniture at all, so really the chair could belong to anybody, but Chad had the feeling the guy wouldn't have come over here if he wasn't looking for this specific spot. "I um- didn't realize I was taking anyone's spot."

"It's free to all," the guy said, wearing a kind smile. "I was actually looking for that book, though."

Chad felt his cheeks heat in a flush. "Sorry. So um- that must have been your bookmark, then." He offered the book over to the other guy, who took it with careful movements.

"Are you from the Auradon Contingent?" he asked, likely because Erebor didn't get a whole lot of humans.

"Yeah," Chad said. "But not the – you know, part that's trying to get married. I'm just the book guy."

"Have you been enjoying this one?" the guy asked, holding 'There and Back Again' up with a cheerful smile.

"Very much," Chad said, grinning. "Master Baggins is a very good writer. The way he describes things… and to think, all of that happened thirty years ago. It's mind boggling. And amazing!" Chad rushed to add. "It's mostly amazing, just…"

"Yeah," the guy said, smiling gently. "I understand. It's weird to think this kingdom was claimed by a dragon only thirty years ago." He cleared his throat. "What's your name?"

"Oh." Chad felt his blush darken. "I'm Chad. Chad James, from Sardinia. It's next to Central Auradon."

"Ah," the guy said, none of that ringing any bells, the same way it hadn't with Mal.

"And you are?" Chad pressed, wondering if there was some kind of dwarven greeting he was missing.

The other guy just blinked at him for a moment, surprised (so Chad had fucked something up), but then he was smiling. "I'm Doug," he settled on. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's mine," Chad chirped, feeling a small thrill of happiness after he successfully navigated that encounter. "So, if you don't mind, could you point me towards the books about plants? I've been trying to collect as much information about the cultures of the kingdoms we've been visiting as possible, and usually I'd start with the public gardens but they warned us not to go off the main paths."

"That's wise of them," Doug said. "It can be easy for humans to get lost in the underground passages." Though dwarves, Chad imagined, didn't have much trouble at all. They were natural miners. "But I think I can help you out."

"Really?" Chad asked, perking up. "You wouldn't mind? I'd hate to cut into your reading time."

"Reading can be done anywhere," Doug said with a grin. "Come on, I can show you the best garden we have in all of Erebor."

"Oh man," Chad said, feeling delighted by this development.

He followed Doug out of the library, both of them trading waves with Master Ori before Doug led him through the sprawling halls of the kingdom under the mountain.

"Erebor imports most of its produce from Hanover," Doug explained as he led Chad up a set of stairs. "Dwarves aren't really farmers, but we can trade our crafts and our precious jewels and metal ore for food, which works because it isn't as plentiful in Hanover."

"Good economics," Chad chirped, thinking back on his studies.

Doug flashed him a grin. "Exactly," he said. "We have stone gardens, of course, and a few caverns dedicated to growing mushrooms, but we only have one real garden." He shot Chad a grin over his shoulder. "Because there's no natural light in the depths of the mountain, the garden is high up on a balcony built out of the upper slopes."

"A garden in the sky?" Chad asked, feeling breathless at the thought of it. "That's amazing!"

"Where there's a will, there's a way," Doug agreed, a small tinge of pride in his gaze the way Mal had gotten when she was sharing her homeland with Chad. It made the blond happy that he could do it again, especially with someone as calm as Doug.

They passed a few sets of guards on their way up, but Doug talked to each of them as they went past, Chad making an effort to memorize the not too terribly difficult route.

"And here we are," Doug said as one of the guards let them into what seemed to be a grand suite, something Doug was completely unbothered by as he strolled right to the large floor-to-ceiling glass doors on the other side of the room, opening them up to reveal-

"Oh wow," Chad said, staring out at the beautiful array of greenery. It was dizzying, to be so high up and yet surrounded by lovely plant life, but once he adjusted to that and the cold, he couldn't stop smiling. "Wow," he repeated, taking extreme care when he started walking down the intricate stone path that wove its way through the garden.

Like everything else dwarves did, this seemed to be a feat of great skill and engineering, making the garden seem almost like art in addition to functional. The entire thing made Chad very happy, and he lost a moment clutching his sketchbook against his chest, wondering where on earth he could possibly start.

"Doug, it's…" Chad swallowed, thinking of the work that must have gone into this place to make it what it was. Thought back on the same work and love his own mother had put into her garden back home. "It's amazing. Thank you so much for sharing it with me."

"It's my pleasure," Doug said, a slight flush building up on his cheeks, likely from the cold.

"Would it be okay if I drew some pictures?" Chad asked, looking over the nearest patch of foreign flowers. The garden was split up into sections – part functional – with some fruits and vegetables and herbs, and part seeming to be purely for aesthetics. It was all very well organized though, and lovingly maintained.

"By all means," Doug said, settling down on a stone bench not far from Chad.

It was hard to think things were as easy as that, but really, that was all that was needed before they fell into a companionable silence. Doug was happy reading while Chad sketched, settling down on the stone pavers to capture the garden and sure, maybe it wasn't as good as just taking a picture, but he was pretty sure his father would like it when Chad video chatted with him that night.

Halfway through his second photo, Doug cleared his throat. "Is that your craft?"

Chad paused the shading of his newest flower. "Pardon?"

"Your craft," Doug repeated, abandoning the bench to take a seat beside Chad. "While all dwarves usually know the basics for blacksmithing, beyond that, each of them follows the call of a specific craft – whether it be jewelry making or weaving, tailoring, scribing, cooking – Erebor is home to many craft guilds, and a craft is as important to a dwarf as their family. It generally leads them to their chosen profession, unless they pursue a life of politics – serving the crown in some capacity, as either a servant or soldier or councildwarf."

"That's amazing," Chad said, remembering Ben vaguely mention dwarves and their crafts from his briefing packet. "I wouldn't say this is my craft, though," he admitted. "I mean, I always wanted to try it so I thought I'd practice on this trip. Really," he began, perking up. "-that's one of the things my dad encouraged me to do while I was away. To try and learn different creative outlets." He offered Doug a grin. "I got lucky in the Moors. I met a girl there that helped me with my sketching and some of the chefs in the kitchen were nice enough to let me shadow them so I could learn how to cook their food first hand, it was really cool."

"You like cooking, then?" Doug asked, quirking a brow at Chad.

"I do," Chad confirmed. "Cooking and drawing and reading and gardens and animals and-" he balked after a moment, remembering himself. "I'm sorry, I've been babbling on over here and I didn't even ask what your craft is."

"There's no need to apologize," Doug soothed. "I appreciate your enthusiasm. And um… my craft is music," he explained. "I play the trumpet, but I've been composing pieces as well."

"Wow," Chad said, feeling awed all over again. "That's great, Doug."

"Do you think it's be anything you want to try?" Doug asked, making Chad pause.

"I don't think I'd be smart enough for it," Chad admitted, thinking back on the times when he was little. He'd thought music was a refined pursuit, something princely, but his grandfather had said he was too stupid for such things, that if he couldn't manage his basic duties as a prince, why should he waste brain power on trying to learn something that couldn't ultimately serve Sardinia?

"It's not that hard," Doug said, his voice gentle. "And if you were ever interested in learning, I'd be happy to give you a crash course."

"Really?" Chad perked up. "I'd be very grateful. Even if I don't turn out to be good at it, it would be a comfort just to try."

"Well," Doug began with a grin. "My uncle always says that it's important to try out every craft you can in order to find the right one for you."

"Your uncle sounds very wise," Chad said, which Doug seemed to appreciate. "How many crafts did you end up-"

Chad cut off when he caught a frantic fluttering of wings from the corner of his eye, and he was up on his feet before he could even think about it, darting towards the raven that swooped into their alcove, one of its wings seeming damaged.

"I've got you!" Chad said, holding his arms open carefully, and it was a relief when the raven careened towards him, Chad shifting his weight to ease the force of his impact. "I've got you," Chad repeated when the raven seemed to have settled, the bird breathing hard as he carried it back over to where he'd abandoned his satchel. "Did you sprain your wing, or is it broken?"

"That isn't one of the ravens that can talk," Doug said, because apparently that was a thing in Erebor, but then the raven gave an annoyed sort of caw that indicated he thought the wing was broken.

"That's rough," Chad informed the raven. "Don't worry, I've got a first aid kit on me. We can get your wing taped up in a jiff."

Doug paused while Chad set the raven down in his lap, giving the bird a few calming pets while he dug through his satchel. "Did you understand him?"

"It's a family thing," Chad explained. "It's not like I know exactly what he's saying, just the essence." He pulled out the animal first aid kit his father had gotten him after he realized Chad was just as capable of charming the birds in their garden as his mother was. "His wing's broken."

"And you know how to treat that?" Doug asked while Chad got his avian tape out.

"Sure," Chad said. "I've helped some of the bluebirds back home before when they get wounded. Besides, if it gets bad, um…" He blinked at the raven. "I'm sorry, what's your name?" The raven let out a huffed caw. "Sorry. So if I do something wrong, Kurak will let me know."

Doug just sort of stared at him, but it was nothing Chad wasn't used to, the blond bending Kurak's wing into position and taping it with practiced ease. He might be bigger than the bluebirds of Sardinia, but the end goal was very much the same, and Chad seemed to get him fixed up in no time.

"Do you have a nest or flock nearby we could take you to?" Chad asked, getting a pleased ruffle of feathers that was somewhat diminished by Kurak's generous roll of his eyes. "Ah, sorry, please forgive my ignorance."

"He's one of the royal messenger birds," Doug vocalized what Kurak had already explained. "It used to be the only way to communicate with other kingdoms, but now they're mostly a sacred tradition."

Kurak shot Doug an unhappy look, one so bitter it almost made Chad laugh.

"Don't worry," Chad soothed, running a finger down the back of Kurak's head. "We know you're important, Kurak. You and your flock can get to magic-restrictive places our phones can never reach."

He'd read something like that in 'There and Back Again' and Chad was glad for it because Kurak seemed to preen, fluffing his feathers in a self-important way before Chad picked him up.

"Could you lead us back to the Aviary?" Chad asked Doug.

Not that he doubted Kurak's directions, but he was sure the bird was more familiar with navigating Erebor from the sky rather than its multitude of hallways.

"Sure," Doug said, grinning as Chad gathered his things, keeping Kurak safely nestled in one arm. "It isn't far from here."

Right, because they were high up in the mountain.

They left without further deliberation, Chad shooting a look of longing back towards the garden before they disappeared into the depths of the mountain.

"You can return here later," Doug said, catching Chad's longing. "I already told the guards to be on the lookout for you – so you can come back during business hours whether I'm with you or not."

"Thanks," Chad said, riding a swell of happiness. "That's very kind of you."

"It's my pleasure," Doug assured him. "Talking to someone who's actually interested in my culture is a gift."

"I'm glad," Chad said. "Though I'm sure the others in the Auradon contingent would also love to learn more about Erebor. I'm just the lucky one who gets to focus on it the full time I'm here."

"Still," Doug hummed, his lips pressed together thoughtfully. "If that's the case, then I would like to facilitate your knowledge acquisition." At Chad's confused look, Doug elaborated, "You like cooking, right? Well, I have an uncle that works in the kitchens – I'd be happy to arrange for you to shadow him."

"That'd be amazing," Chad said. "But I thought dwarves preferred to keep that sort of stuff private."

"We generally do," Doug said, making Chad think he was at the very least part dwarf, even if he looked human. "But I think we can make an exception for an eager audience such as yourself."

Before Chad could press him further on the subject they seemed to arrive at the aviary, where a grizzled dwarf looked them over with a thoughtful look before sliding into a bow.

"Greetings, your-"

"I've already said you can just call me Doug, Master Drick," Doug said with a nervous laugh before grinning at Chad. "I'm from a noble family, so uh- you know how it is."

"I get it," Chad said, offering his own bow to the dwarf. "Kurak broke his wing while flying," he explained, the dwarf breaking from the confused look he had aimed at Doug to attend to Chad's raven. "I've taped it in place, but you might want to double check it. I'm used to taping the wings of smaller birds."

Chad felt conscious of the stare of not only the raven master, but of the other ravens as he explained this. He could hear them huffing to each other, a load of communication that overlapped until Chad had a hard time thinking.

"Everything okay?" Doug asked as Chad passed Kurak over to Master Drick.

"Just- it's loud," Chad said, keeping his voice low. "They don't like me much."

While he didn't get a direct translation, he got the feeling that the ravens thought he was an… opportunist? Or a gold digger, though some were impressed with his avian knowledge. Others still seemed amused by Doug, for some reason, at least until Kurak started cawing at them to shut up for a minute since Chad could understand them.

It was almost funny, how quickly a tower attic full of birds could quiet down.

In the next moment, a large, old raven flew down to the perch that was imbedded into Master Drick's desk, narrowing its cloudy eyes at Chad.

"You understand us?" it croaked in warbled Common, making Chad pause.

"I understand your intent," Chad said. "It was a gift from my mother's family." After a beat, he added. "She was Fae-blessed."

"And that blessing lives on in you," the raven said in something like approval, Doug and Master Drick stilling at the exchange. "You must possess a noble heart to carry your mother's chosen gifts."

"I um- I try," Chad said, flushing dark.

He had nothing on his mother, as little as he remembered about her. Now that is grandfather was gone, he could finally ask the other royals who had been her friends for stories about her and actually get their firsthand experience. Queen Belle and Queen Aurora, Sultana Jasmine and even Queen Tiana had all known his mother for a short time, and every story they shared only cemented his understanding of how very good she was.

The raven cocked its head to the side, as though judging him, then turned its attention onto Doug. "I like this one," he said. "You have our approval to proceed."

"Proceed with what?" Chad asked, feeling hopelessly confused.

"Proceed with treasuring your friendship," Doug said in a rush, grabbing Chad's hand carefully. "Master Drick, Roäc, always a pleasure, but now we must be going."

They left to a chorus of raven laughter, and Chad had the feeling that Master Drick might have joined in as well, much to Doug's seeming embarrassment.

"Hey, it's alright," Chad said as Doug guided him back down the stairs. "I of all people understand how weird animals can be sometimes."

Doug shot him a careful look, but it eased into a smile, and that made Chad feel better. "Especially those guys," he said. "Just- be on the lookout for them when you go to the garden. A few of them will probably spy on you. They're nosy like that."

Chad laughed, because that at least was familiar. "So are the bluebirds back home," he said. "Don't worry, I know it comes from a good place."

"Sometimes," Doug muttered. "And sometimes they just want to gossip."

Chad giggled, though he could understand Doug's grumpiness. Some of those ravens could actually talk, which meant they were perfect spies.

Doug sighed when they seemed to get back to a main pathway, checking his watch. "I'll have to leave you," he said, seeming reluctant. "I'm sorry, but I have some duties to attend to."

"No worried," Chad assured him. "You've already made my day pretty amazing."

That earned him a small smile at least, making Chad feel hopeful. Now he'd gotten four maybe-friends. That was pretty good.

"Here," Doug said, passing the copy of 'There and Back Again' back over to him. "Maybe we can meet up again in the garden tomorrow? I'd love to hear what else you think of the book."

"Deal," Chad said, shaking Doug's hand. "Thank you so much, Doug. It's been a really great day."

"Yeah," Doug said, a small blush spreading across the bridge of his nose. "I feel the same way."

Before Chad could babble something awkward out, the other teen offered him a polite nod of his head before he ducked off, leaving Chad alone with the borrowed book and a new array of knowledge and experiences that he couldn't wait to get back to Ben.

First things first, he needed to update his journal, then he had a lovely evening of reading planned out for him.

Seemed like the luck he'd managed for the Moors had decided to spread over to Erebor, and for that, he was grateful.

What would have been endnotes: I got Drick from a Tolkien dwarf name generator, he is entirely invented for the purposes of this story – Roäc is the only named raven I could find in the Lord of the Rings verse, but he gets bonus points because I'm pretty sure he's actually in charge of the ravens as he is in this story.

-:-:-

The next day after breakfast, Chad made his way up to the gardens. He knew Doug would likely be busy with his own duties for hours yet, but as much as Chad enjoyed perusing the dwarven markets and taking in the sights easily accessible to the main paths, he found himself longing desperately for a bit of sunlight. He was still adjusting to the lack of window in their guest room – which he understood, it was just- it was different.

Chad had lived a full life locked up in his portion of the castle – his windows barred and shuttered. It was enough to leave him longing for good, clean air more often than not, for an open sky when he could get it.

Besides, he might be able to check in with some more of the ravens while he was on the balcony and see how Kurak's wing was doing. There was nothing but benefits.

It felt weird, walking these more secluded halls without Doug by his side, but none of the guards stopped him. One set even opened the doors up for him that led into the grand sitting room just before the garden, and Chad did his best to express his thanks before he pushed his way through the lovely room out into the even more lovely garden.

Ah, he felt better already. This really was the best place in all of Erebor.

"Oh, hello," a cheerful voice called from his right, and Chad turned to see a gentleman who must be a hobbit based on the descriptions Chad had read – his hair curly and feet bear, short like a dwarf but no beard in sight. His clothes were different too, though they all seemed well made. "I don't believe we've met."

"Chad, son of Christopher, at your service" Chad offered, giving the hobbit a bow of greeting. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. Doug showed me up here the other day and gave me permission to visit on my own so I could draw some more pictures." He shifted uneasily. "We were going to meet up later."

"You were, were you?" the hobbit said, seeming amused. "Well, it's good to see that Doug has deigned to make some kind of connection during these festivities." He dusted his hands off on his trousers and rose to his feet in a fluid motion, offering Chad a polite tilt of his head. "Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo Baggins, at your service."

"You wrote the book!" Chad gushed, fumbling through his satchel until he could pull the borrowed novel out. "Master Ori pointed it out to me in the library, it's – it's so very well written, Master Baggins, and I'm not just saying that to suck up to you… though I guess in hindsight if I was, I probably wouldn't say as much."

Mr. Bilbo let out a fond chuckle, so Chad supposed his excited rambling wasn't as embarrassing as he feared. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, before tilting his head towards the bench he had been sitting on. "Would you like to take a seat with me? I would love to hear an outside perspective's take on our little adventure."

"I wouldn't call it little," Chad urged, gladly taking the indicated seat next to Mr. Baggins. "Orcs, Goblins, Spiders and trolls – and that's not to mention the dragon and the elves that took you hostage and- oh, I've been meaning to ask, but why hasn't Greenwood submitted any heirs for the summer contingent?"

"A fair question," Master Baggins allowed. "Mostly, it has to do with elves living far longer lifespans than humans. They age slower, so an attempted match between an elf and human would could only be a recipe for sadness on the elf's part."

"They really live that long?" Chad asked, feeling awed all over again.

"Their lives can be thousands of years long," Master Baggins said, making Chad jolt in surprise. "I know, it's quite astounding, but it makes them less inclined to arrange political marriages outside their own species. Even dwarves live to be hundreds of years old," he explained. "Thankfully, we have some heirs that are only half-dwarf, which makes the prospect of marrying a human slightly more respectable."

"I'm glad," Chad said, earning an interested look from Mr. Baggins. "Because of that, we got to visit Erebor, and it's so wonderfully different from anything we have back home."

"I know what you mean," Mr. Baggins said with a grin. "I spent most of my life in the grand rolling hills of the Shire." Which was a settlement deeper in the heart of Hanover, Queen Snow's kingdom. "Living in a mountain is a large adjustment, but I've found the company greatly helped ease the transition."

"You mean King Thorin and the rest of the brave warriors you helped reclaim the mountain?" Chad asked. "Are you still friends?"

"Of course," Mr. Baggins said, though he didn't seem annoyed. "I couldn't get rid of them if I tried. You know…" He quirked a brow at Doug. "They were so afraid of me going back to the Shire after all that dragon nonsense was taken care of that they worked tirelessly to build me this garden? They wanted to give me a piece of home – something that catered to core hobbit sensibilities, as though I would run back home to my boring hobbit hole after being dragged across half of Enchancia. Not on their lives."

"This is yours?" Chad asked, viewing the garden in a new light.

"It is," Master Baggins confirmed. "This does lead off of my suite, you know."

Chad did not, in fact, know that, and he lost a moment being appropriately horrified that Doug hadn't thought to tell him as much, allowing him to casually stroll through someone else's living quarters.

"I'm so sorry," Chad gushed, a swell of anxiety curling in his chest. "I had no idea-"

"I figured as much," Master Baggins soothed. "Have no worries, Chad, that fault lies in Doug, not you. I'll chastise him for it later." He let out a fond sigh. "Though it is good to know that even he does not perfectly think things out all the time. It proves he's family."

"Does his dad not think things through?" Chad asked, and he must have guessed the right parent, because immediately, Mr. Bilbo burst into a loud, unrestrained laugh.

"Oh," he sighed, wiping an amused tear from his eye. "You could say Doug's father is the king of not thinking things out properly. It's a gift. Thankfully, Doug mostly takes after his mother, but he must have gotten so excited to show you this place that he forgot to explain everything." He shot Chad a comforting grin. "You have proved him fallible, Chad, and for that, his uncle and I shall be grateful."

"Happy to help, I guess," Chad offered with a small grin. "If this is your space, would you mind explaining what some of these plants are? I'm not familiar with all of them."

Immediately, Master Baggins puffed up. "I would be delighted."

They spent the following thirty minutes discussing the different plants of the garden, Chad showing off the pictures he had drawn the day previous, along with the few he had gotten back in the Moors. He explained what had happened with Kurak, which had Master Baggins aiming an amused brow at the three ravens that just happened to be perched on the stone railing that fenced in the garden.

"That explains their presence," he murmured. "Usually they know better than to spy on me, but I'm afraid you're free pickings for them."

"I don't mind," Chad said with a shrug. "It's actually kind of flattering."

"You say that now," Master Baggins said with an amused look.

"So," Chad began, deciding to change the subject. "I know you're not a dwarf but do you have a craft?"

"I have several," Master Baggins said, not seeming upset by the question. "We hobbits like to dedicate ourselves to respectful pursuits, so I dabble in a couple of different things. Cooking, baking, scribing, and of course, embroidery. I was actually going to work on some handkerchiefs this morning."

"You embroider?" Chad asked, his interest peaking. "Do you mind if I watch? My mother sewed – I have some of her embroidery work back home, but I've never had the chance to try it myself."

"Has she passed?" the hobbit asked, picking up on Chad's use of past tense.

"She has," Chad confirmed, and it only hurt in a distant way.

"You have my condolences, then," Master Baggins added. "A loss of a parent is always a dreadful thing. My mother left shortly after my father – they were so bonded – and while I do not blame her for surrendering to her heartsickness, I would gladly give anything for a few more hours with her."

Chad swallowed, his throat feeling tight. "I don't really remember her," he admitted. "But I've been trying to pick up her old hobbies as a way to connect to her. That's why I started sketching. And I was able to pick up some cooking in the Moors."

"Well, I'd be happy to facilitate your crafting journey here in Erebor," Master Baggins said. "I'd be happy to teach you the beginning steps to embroidery. And I know quite a few chefs down in the kitchens – I'm sure we could find a space for you."

"Doug said he had an uncle that works down there," Chad offered.

"Ah – yes, good 'ole Bombur," Master Baggins mused. "He and his brother Bofur are the two I nicknamed 'Happy' in the book."

"I liked them!" Chad chirped. "I mean, I liked all of them, though Mr. Dwalin seems kind of scary."

He had been 'Grumpy', though sometimes Master Baggins had used that title on King Thorin as well.

"You should be sure to tell him that if you meet him," Master Baggins advised. "It would earn you a lot of brownie points."

From their perch atop the handrail, the ravens let out a few amused caws of agreement.

"And that's enough out of you," Bilbo mused, aiming an unimpressed glare at them. "We have sewing to do, come, come."

Doug found his way up to the gardens just as Chad was completing his first embroidered flower – and sure, it wasn't the prettiest thing in the world, but he'd made it with his own two hands.

Chad didn't immediately notice him at first, so focused was he on his work, the blond tying off his last knot and looking the modest daisy over.

"Thank you so much for your tutelage, Master Baggins," Chad said. "And thank you for allowing me to use your materials. If um- you have a seam ripper I can take this out now-"

"You'll do no such thing," Master Baggins tutted. "That is yours now. In fact, keep the whole kit, Eru knows I have dozens of them."

Chad balked at it, for the materials Master Baggins used were some of the nicest he'd ever seen – dwarven craftsmanship really lining up to be as extraordinary as Doug said it was.

"It's too much," Chad said, thinking back on the book Queen Maleficent had given him, trying to navigate the line between presents and debts. "This is- I can pay you, or maybe draw something for you? It won't be very good-"

"But it will be a craft by your own hand," Master Baggins said, his smile fond. "And for us here in Erebor, that is more than enough."

Chad lost a moment being so staggeringly overwhelmed by Master Baggins' kindness, for the small sewing kit and hoop and handkerchief, his kindness, that he didn't immediately notice the hobbit's gaze shifting over his shoulder until he was clearing his throat.

"Did you have a good morning, Doug?" Master Baggins spoke up, making Chad almost jolt off the bench in surprise.

He turned to see Doug hovering close to their bench, his hands tucked behind his back in a picture of perfect decorum.

"I… yes," Doug settled on, blinking out of what seemed to be a reverie. "I did."

"I met your friend," Master Baggins continued. "Perhaps next time you should inform him of whose suite you're walking through to access the garden."

Doug paled, and it actually kind of made Chad feel better, how apologetic he seemed. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Chad, I didn't- I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay," Chad said, smiling with relief. "Master Baggins has been kind enough to allow me to stay." He held up the handkerchief. "He even taught me how to embroider."

"Look at you, picking up new crafts," Doug said, seeming a bit… dreamy, maybe? Chad was probably reading that wrong, though. That seemed like the most probable option. He seemed to shake himself out of it when Master Baggins cleared his throat, his cheeks dusting in an embarrassed flush. "I um- I'm sorry, Uncle Bilbo. Thank you for looking after Chad."

"It was my pleasure," Master Baggins said, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "Now, I believe it's lunch time. The two of you should get in a meal while you can, before Doug is demanded elsewhere once more."

"Excellent idea," Doug declared, waiting patiently for Chad to pack up his newly-acquired gifts. "Thanks again, uncle."

"Don't mention it," Master Baggins said. "Seriously."

"Are we doing something wrong?" Chad asked as they made their way back out to the hallway.

"No, he just likes to think he's funny," Doug muttered before promptly changing the subject to Chad's opinion on 'There and Back Again'.

Of course, Chad had very many opinions on the subject, and he was happy to share all of them.

They ended up taking lunch in another private space – a sunroom of sorts that featured walls of thick glass that looked out onto the valley below the mountain.

"Dwarves are used to living in the dark," Doug explained. "But they built this room for human and elf visitors. Of course, we use it for all the mythical creatures of the Moors too, once we unified, but most of the time it's empty."

"I like it," Chad said, happily leaning in towards the sunbeam, savoring its gentle warmth. "Is the glass designed to lessen the intensity of the sun's rays?"

Doug perked up, giving Chad the feeling he'd guessed correctly, though the other teen hadn't expected him to catch as much. "It is," Doug confirmed. "Dwarves produce a lot of their own natural heat – sort of a side effect of mostly living underground. We don't thrive well in extreme heat, so these windows were designed to diffuse the solar load."

"Neat," Chad said, wanting to touch the panes but knowing better than to get his grubby hands on them. "So um- Master Baggins is your uncle?"

"Sort of," Doug allowed with a flush. "He's married to my great uncle. He insists on going by just uncle though, says the whole 'great' thing makes him feel old."

"He doesn't look it, so I guess that's fair enough," Chad offered with a grin. "Your uncle's very nice, Doug."

"Yeah," Doug agreed with a fond smile. "He's pretty great."

After lunch (and a bit of gushing on Chad's part because dwarven food might be hearty but it was so good), Doug showed Chad down to the library, the two of them trading easy conversation about the book they both favored.

"I have to go soon," Doug said. "But if you're interested in clothing crafts, I think I might have just the thing for you."

"Really?" Chad asked, because he'd already learned how to embroider that day. Oh, maybe Doug was taking him to someone else who was good at embroidery, Chad could learn something from them.

"Oh yes," Doug said, shooting him a small grin. "Master Ori – the head librarian? His main craft is scribing, obviously, but he took up knitting on the side. He used to do it when times were rough, but now he does it just for fun."

"My godmother knits," Chad said, thinking back on the blanket Fairy Godmother had spread across his hospital bed after that last, awful ball with his grandfather. "Do you think he'd teach me something?"

Doug aimed a fond look at Chad. "Some dwarves are greedy about their crafts, but there are others that are happy to share with an eager audience. Master Ori falls in the latter category."

And Chad was lucky for that, because the head librarian seemed happy the moment he spotted them, like Doug had arranged for this ahead of time.

"Great to see you again!" the librarian chirped, shooting Doug a pleased look. "Did you finish the book?"

"Couldn't put it down," Chad informed him, watching as he puffed up with pride. "I, um…"

"We can discuss it while I show you some basic knitting patterns," the dwarf declared before making some shooing gestures towards Doug. "Now, off with you. You don't get to use this as an excuse for missing your duties. You're no Moors Fae."

"No," Doug sighed. "I am a punctual dwarf." With that, he gave Chad one last smile before he turned back towards the library entrance. "Could you meet me back here after dinner? If you're free, of course, my Uncle Bombur said it would be a good time for you to learn some cooking basics."

"I'd be honored, Doug," Chad said. "I really appreciate your help with all this. Honestly, I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"You don't need to," Master Ori soothed. "Not for a craft, now come, we're going to do some knitting by the fire."

"I'll see you later," Doug offered, and then he was gone, but there was a quirk of his eye, something…

Had he winked?

No, it was probably just a product of the poor lighting. Doug seemed too scholarly for something like casual flirtations. Especially with a nobody like Chad.

Best not to read into that.

What would have been endnotes: Eru is part of the Valar – the forces that created Middle Earth in the Tolkien universe.

-:-:-

Knitting seemed intimidating but was actually a lot of fun once Chad got his fingers to cooperate. Master Ori gifted him with his own set of needles and yarn when the librarian's break had ended, and while Chad had tried to protest, it mostly ended in him getting more gifts and leaving with another promise of homemade bookmarks.

Honestly, if Chad had known that would become his go-to form of currency for this trip, he would have tried to absorb Mal's art skills a bit harder back in the Moors.

He spent the late afternoon reviewing his two new crafts before throwing himself into drawing, trying to make something pretty for Master Baggins and Master Ori. He'd already done this once for Queen Maleficent, and that had been bad enough, a tagalong like him making something for a queen, but Ben promised that she'd loved the gift, and Diaval had even echoed this later when he and Chad had crossed paths before their envoy moved out.

Maybe it wasn't much, but it was something, a craft made by his own hand.

"You have a good day?" Ben asked at dinner, the other prince seeming amused by the cheerful disposition Chad couldn't hide if he tried.

"Yep," he chirped. "I learned a lot and got to draw some more flowers – oh, you should look at my new projects."

Ben was appropriately appreciative of Chad's efforts in knitting and embroidery, going so far as to take a picture of Chad with both projects to send back to his mom.

"So she can know one of us is being intellectually stimulated," Ben murmured under his breath.

It made Chad a little bit sorrowful on behalf of his roommate. "I'm sorry, Ben."

"Hey, no- that's just our job," Ben soothed, offering a wry grin. "Sorry, I shouldn't- I shouldn't complain. This is a very important trip, just…"

"You want to read some of those amazing books," Chad offered. "I'll try and track down a book store while you're in your meetings, get you something you can take back to Auradon with you, even if you can't read them here."

Ben shot him an appreciative look. "That would be amazing."

"Happy to help," Chad chirped, and that was him – he was helpful – he wasn't a dumb waste of space or a failure or any of the other awful things his grandfather had ever said about him.

"Hey," Doug greeted when they met up outside the library after dinner. "Did you have fun?"

"Yep!" Chad cheered. "Master Ori's a really good teacher." And then, so as not to monopolize the conversation – "Did your duties go well?"

Doug sighed. "…I got through them alright."

"I'm sorry," Chad offered, and for whatever reason Doug seemed surprised at this. Maybe he thought Chad wasn't good at reading people.

Doug shot him a small but thankful smile. "It's okay," he said. "And I appreciate the sentiment." Chad was about to inquire as to what his duties might be, maybe so he could share the load somehow, when Doug cleared his throat and move on. "But enough about that boring stuff, we've got more exciting things to focus on now. My Uncle Bombur's ready for us in the kitchen."

Chad perked up. "Are you staying too? That- that would be great, Doug."

While he'd never voiced as much aloud, he'd always wanted to maybe cook something with Mal together back in the Moors. Getting to act on that now here, sharing his journey with a friend… well, it seemed really nice. Like a normal bonding experience.

Chad didn't have many of those.

"I am," Doug said, seeming pleased by how happy this made Chad. "Come on."

Dwarven kitchens were full of sound and life, and even though everything was designed for individuals much shorter than Chad, there had been a chef's jacket waiting for his usage in his size – done in a nice light blue, even, and Doug even got his own in a nice navy with silver embroidery on the shoulders.

"Sometimes they can't help but make things fancy," Doug explained with a dark flush.

"I think it's dashing," Chad offered, making Doug flush with embarrassment even though Chad was telling the truth. He did look rather striking.

Cooking with dwarves was an experience, but it was a fun one. Chad was fortunate to fall under the tutelage of Master Bomber – a large dwarf with a red, bushy beard who seemed perpetually cheerful, making his nickname of Happy well-earned. Unlike the Moors kitchen, the dwarves were happy to toss ingredients to each other, to throw pots and pans and seasoning across the kitchen the same way the pixies might have flown stuff to each other. It was as terrifying as it was exhilarating, but still, Chad learned a lot, and Doug even stayed to learn with him, demonstrating a proper hand for kneading dough.

"Uncle Bilbo says that excellent food preparation is an important quality in hobbit mates," Doug explained. "I mean- it shows that they're good providers, so he trained me well."

"That's really sweet," Chad offered, smiling wide as a can of cinnamon flew across the kitchen. "At this rate, you're going to do a great job taking care of your future partner."

"Wait until he finishes baking the sweet bread," Master Bombur hummed, Doug's cheeks flushing from a mix of exertion and heat from the ovens. "Then you can make your final judgement."

Chad was about to assert that he was pretty sure Doug would be a great partner either way when there was a small commotion from the other side of the kitchen, a few dwarves cursing in that secret language of theirs which was surprising in itself, but that wasn't quite enough to keep Chad's ears from detecting the small squeaks of a mouse in distress.

He found himself across the kitchen in an instant, one dwarf leaning against an overturned wooden crate it had pinned to the floor, consulting another one in rapid-fire Khuzdul. They didn't really stop when Chad approached, not that they needed to, as the blond could hear the mouse's cries of distress echoing out from under the box.

"A thousand apologies," Master Bombur said while he and Doug followed Chad over. "This is not indicative of the normal state of our kitchens – I thought for sure we'd caught the last of them-"

"It's okay," Chad soothed, more or less lying belly-down on the ground to comfort the mouse. "It's okay, you're gonna be okay."

It took the dwarves a few moments to realize he was talking to the mouse probably, not that Chad had much time for them, his entire focus on the distraught animal.

He wasn't sure if they stopped talking or not, if they were even still cooking, he just did his best to sooth the mouse, and when it seemed slightly less panicked, he asked where it came from.

"She accidentally got caught up in someone's bag," Chad explained when he got the full story. "Someone who was out scavenging in the woods. She crawled out in the main hallways and tried to find her way home before eventually ending up here." He looked up towards the two dwarves posed by the box. "Could you lift it, please? I'll get her back where she came from."

They all just stared at him, but then Doug cleared his throat. "I vouch for him, and guarantee that we'll keep the kitchen mouse-free."

The two dwarves looked at each other and shrugged, one of them lifting the box just enough for the small, brown mouse to scamper out. Chad didn't waste any time holding out his hand until she eagerly climbed onto his palm, nuzzling his skin in thanks.

"Um," Chad said, sending Doug a hopeful look. "Do you mind if we take a detour?"

"Not at all," Doug said, and apparently Master Bombur felt so invested in their quest that he abandoned the kitchen and followed them out too.

And that was how Doug was able to lead them out of a small side gate that directed them into the stables. Master Bombur requested a pony while Doug and Chad both got horses (Major eager to stretch his legs), and the three of them rode out to the nearby woods, following the mouse's instructions.

Eventually, Chad managed to track down the proper burrow, a few other mice coming out of the woodwork to let out celebratory cheers at the return of their lost family member.

It made something inside Chad ache, made it twist a little inside, but otherwise… it was good. It was- this was all good.

"I'm sorry," Chad murmured when they were retreating back to the horses. "I hijacked your kindly arranged evening."

"There's no need to apologize for wanting to reunite a family," Doug offered. "Were they- were they happy?"

"Very," Chad said, bracing a hand against Major's steady warmth. "They'd thought that she was gone for good."

Dead or lost or eaten, and they had mourned, though now they no longer needed to.

"But she isn't," Doug said. "And that's thanks to you. In light of that – I think we spent our evening wonderfully."

Chad perked up. "You're not upset?"

Chad had dragged him out of the warmth of the kitchens and the safety of the mountain, had taken over the rare free time Doug had outside his own duties. The evening had been entirely hijacked, and yet, Doug didn't seem even slightly annoyed.

"Not at all," Doug said to confirm this, helping Chad up onto Major despite the fact that he didn't really need it. "This might not have been what I had planned, but that doesn't mean I regret it by any means." He offered Chad a smile as he swung up onto his own horse. "It's an honor to see you in action."

Chad wasn't sure what to make of that, didn't know if it was an average, friendly thing or something shared between warriors or artists or if it was simply a dwarf expectation, though fortunately he was saved from having to proper discern such things when Master Bombur brought up his pony beside them.

"Focus on the path, lads," he cheered with a wink. "Wouldn't want to get lost on the way back to the mountain, now would you?"

"Would you like to lead the way?" Doug asked, blushing for some reason.

Master Bombur laughed. "You know very well I'll have to stay behind both of you," he chuckled. "Unless you're uncertain on how to get home? Master Dwalin would always be happy to run you through a few more navigation tests-"

"We're good," Doug declared loudly before guiding them forward, Master Bombur falling behind the two of them with another cheerful laugh.

"…is this a dwarf thing?" Chad asked, guiding Major companionably alongside Doug's horse.

"It's complicated," Doug settled on, and Chad didn't push, content to let Doug have his secrets the same way the musician felt inclined to allow Chad this little quest.

It was all about compromising in the end.

-:-:-

Notes: Here's a selection of plot points I never quite finished writing and I don't remember the goal with all of them. You have as much context as I do. They are:

GIVING CHAD A BRAID

SHOWING CHAD HOW TO CARVE

TAKE MAJOR AND PHILLIPE OUT FOR RUN – Turok (Kurak's brother) joins – warns Chad off something, they ride back to mountain, worried Doug meets them at stables, realizing Chad rides bear back

-:-:-

Erebor Arc – Testing Chad's mettle

Notes: I don't remember the full deal with this, but Chad gets drugged and stranded in the mountain as part of a dwarven courtship ritual. To prove he's worthy of Doug, he has to navigate back by himself which he does manage to do, mostly by chance. This is where I was going to show off Chad's light magic, but alas, it was cut.

The thing with Doug's name is that Chad's only heard it said aloud. He assumed it was Doug, short for Douglass, when his real name is Dili, son of Kili, and his nickname's 'dug', because he liked to dig holes as a kid.

His dad is not the most creative name giver, alright?

-:-:-

When Chad woke up, it was dark.

Of course, this wasn't uncommon for Erebor. Their guest suite was carved out of a mountain – without the light provided by the glow stone lamps scattered about their quarters – things could get very oppressive. There was just about always some kind of mystic fire burning in the fireplace (Chad hadn't gotten the full details on how that worked yet, though it was likely the work of Dwarven runes – a secret form of magic only used by the most mystically talented of the dwarves), so there was always, at the very least, a comforting glow emanating from the small crack under the bottom of their bedroom door.

And yet, when Chad next woke up, he didn't even have that much.

For a moment, he was afraid that maybe he'd gotten tangled up in his sheets somehow and they had gotten wrapped his eyes, but he couldn't feel anything restraining him. He reached up towards his face, grasping to see if maybe Ben had blindfolded him as a sort of weird prank, but no, there was nothing there. And that wasn't the only thing that was different. He seemed to have been transferred from his comfortable bed to a sort of hard, stone surface, the entire area feeling chilled – which didn't normally happen in the public areas of Erebor. There was always some kind of vent or heating system that worked off the great forges in the depths of the mountain – a miracle of ancient engineering that proved the dwarves were far ahead of their time.

If he was cold, then that must mean he wasn't near any of the usual living quarters. By process of elimination, that meant he was either in one of the less-tread paths they weren't supposed to explore, or he was in some kind of mining shaft. There was a chance that it was both, that maybe he had somehow found his way into an abandoned mineshaft, though he didn't know how such a thing could ever come to be. Logically, he knew the only way he could get here was if someone had purposefully transferred him there while he was unconscious. He wasn't the heaviest sleeper, which meant he'd likely been drugged as well.

Things were starting to slot together at a faster speed, making him realize that his delayed perception was likely at the hands of whatever had drugged him, and his fast rise to coherence was a sign that the hypothetical drugs were wearing off.

Okay, first things first, he needed not to panic.

Easier said than done, but Chad had the added motivation of not making Auradon look bad to get him to keep things together for five minutes. This wasn't the first time he'd been alone, it wouldn't be the last. He could do this.

Step two, he needed to take stock of his condition.

He was still in his sleeping clothes, which wasn't great, that meant he had socks but no shoes and none of his usual tools. That was the downside.

The upside was that he was not completely helpless. He was a warrior of the light, and sure, he'd never expected to use his bloodline gifts for odd kidnapping attempts, but that didn't mean he couldn't.

Chad took a moment to steady his breath before focusing, closing his eyes and finding that warm ball of warmth settled deep in his core. Channeling light magic required you to surrender to all that was good in the world – to hope and courage and a will to help others. There was no room for fear in it because light magic was based in the protection of others. At least, Chad's light magic was.

So he thought of his mom and his dad, thought of Sardinia and Fairy Godmother and Captain Anozie and Ben, who would get worried the longer Chad stayed gone, and allowed the light to wash over him, materializing in a familiar set of light armor.

There, at least now he had shoes and he could see, thus confirming his theory that he was probably in an abandoned mineshaft. That didn't really help him as far as not being lost was concerned, or returning back to civilization. There were a couple of different paths he could see from where he was standing alone, and any one of them could lead him deeper into the mountain, away from the main paths he desperately needed to come back to.

Okay, don't panic, he had options. He wasn't familiar enough with his own light magic to be able to attempt any sensing spells that might take him towards civilization, so he needed to find someone familiar with the area.

A few moments of scanning, and Chad was lucky enough to catch sight of what seemed to be a salamander squinting in his direction, the amphibian seeming both curious and confused about the brightly lit human wandering around deep within the mountain.

Score.

"Um- hey," Chad greeted, making it startle. "I um- seem to have gotten a little lost. Could you lead me back towards one of the main paths?"

The salamander tilted its head at him, surprised by the question, unused to interactions outside of its own kind.

"I would be deeply appreciative," Chad continued. "I don't have anything on me, but I could make you something? Oh, I've been learning out to knit, I could make you a sweater."

That of all things, seemed to peak the salamander's interest. Crafts were very prevalent in Erebor, but the dwarves usually kept them to their own kind, or sent them out for trade. Rarely were the animals of Erebor allowed to partake in them, and the salamander seemed excited to be the first of its kind to be allowed such a thing.

"It might not be the best sweater," Chad said. "I haven't been knitting that long."

The salamander let out a little chittering sound that indicated it would be flattered by any attempt, and that this was an acceptable trade. He would guide Chad back towards the noisy tunnels where the tall ones resided.

It really was all about perspective, wasn't it? Dwarves were short for humans, but for salamanders, they must be considered giants.

It was a brisk walk, the salamander often having to pause for Chad while he navigated the stone paths. Some of the turns they took he never would have been able to guess on his own – bends hidden in shadows and small nooks he had to duck down for before being let into more sizable paths would have been something he completely bypassed in his growing anxiety.

It took maybe about an hour of tricky navigation before Chad heard the distant clangs of dwarves at work, and he perked up, squinting in the distance to see a literal light at the end of the tunnel. He had to stoop down to exit the abandoned path, and he allowed his light armor to fade out of existence as he did so, allowing his eyes to readjust to the familiar light of glow stone.

The sounds of mining still seemed to be a bit of a distant thing, though Chad worried about that less than the two dwarves that seemed to be guarding the cranny he had just stumbled out of.

"Hey, you did it!" one of them cheered. "And in record time, too."

"Very impressive," the other dwarf added with a cheerful wink. "There are full-blooded dwarves that had a harder time navigating that place than you did."

Chad just sort of stared at them for a moment. "For the record, what exactly did I do?"

"Pass the worthiness test," the first dwarf informed him. "Or really, the first part of it. This is basic stuff. Most dwarves can safely navigate uncharted territories and get back towards civilization, but not all of them can keep a calm head about it and do it in a timely fashion, see? Those are the dwarves that aren't ready to move up, see?"

"Um- sure," Chad said. "But I'm not a dwarf."

"Nah," the second dwarf agreed. "But Roac said you'd be up for a challenge, so you got one!"

"And passed it with flying colors," the first dwarf said. "This is great news for you, it earns you a lot of credibility with our people."

"Okay," Chad managed. "I think maybe there was a cultural misunderstanding here, but just for the future, could you please not drug and kidnap me while I'm sleeping?"

"Perish the thought," the first dwarf said. "There won't be any need for that again going forward."

"Oh yeah," the second dwarf said. "If that ever happens again, it'd be because of a real villain, right? So uh- don't panic."

"Right," Chad said, deciding this was- this was just going to be a fun story. "You would have come for me if I hadn't found my way back, right?"

"Of course," the first dwarf soothed, the second one seeming a bit annoyed that he'd even asked. "It's what we do with all the younglings."

"But you passed the test," the second dwarf murmured. "So it's not problem."

"I- okay," Chad said, slowly putting the pieces together. "Thanks, then, for sharing your culture." Before the conversation could carry on and Chad could get lost again in the mystery of dwarves, the blond crouched down to address the lizard. "Hey, um- can you meet me back here tomorrow night? I could have a sweater done by then."

The salamander let out a pleased trill before skittering back into the shadows, happily settling in the familiar darkness of the mountain.

The second dwarf cleared his throat. "Didn't think the stories were actually true."

"Pay up, Heac," the first dwarf said, sounding rather smug, something that only intensified when Heac dug into his pocket and passed over a generous handful of coins.

Yep, just some weird dwarf things.

Chad was about to bid his new… acquaintances, he guessed, a good day (he guessed), when all three of them were distracted by a minor commotion closer to the active area of the mine. They all turned in time to see Doug skittering around the corner, the half-dwarf looking wearing an expression of intense worry that faded the moment he laid eyes on Chad.

Then he was just flabbergasted, coming to a wide-eyed stop a few feet away from Chad.

"Um," Doug began somewhat awkwardly. "I um- I- did they find you?"

"Nope," the first dwarf said while he was counting his coins. "Lad found his way out all by himself."

"With the help of a salamander," Heac muttered.

"It'd be the same as you or I using our dark vision," the first dwarf countered. "Don't get bitter now because you didn't believe the ravens."

"I passed the test," Chad offered when he realized the two dwarves would likely keep arguing if they were allowed the opportunity.

"I'm so sorry," Doug said in a gush. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

The first dwarf cut out of his argument to address Doug. "You're the one that made him dwarf-friend, your-"

"Doug," the half-dwarf stressed with a flush, making the dwarves blink. "I keep saying you don't have to use my full name."

"Aw, but Douglas is a nice name," Chad said, slowly getting back into the swing of things. Doug had come for him. He'd learned about the cultural miscommunication and had come running, and would have likely helped Chad before he spent the day pitifully wandering the mountain.

What a nice guy he was.

"Yes," Heac agreed. "Doug-lass, very um- human."

"And there's nothing wrong with that," the first dwarf offered.

Doug shifted his weight anxiously before addressing the two dwarves. "Your services are no longer required, masters. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to see our guest back to his quarters."

"Best not to go inside, though," the first dwarf suggested. "Lest that tall, elf-like fellow is there-"

"Goodbye," Doug pressed with such awkward ferocity Chad couldn't help but laugh as the half-dwarf grabbed onto his wrist and dragged him away from the two funny dwarves.

"Well," Chad said as the two of them made their way onto a more-traveled path, the dwarves around them offering Chad a wave or a few claps of congratulations because apparently all of them knew about the weird test. "At least I've got a cool story."

"You don't have to be reasonable about this," Doug sighed, dragging a hand over his face. "This is- I know it's weird, but for dwarves-"

"It's normal," Chad finished. "It's okay. I get it – context is important. I was scared at first, but once I found my salamander guide, we were able to get out okay."

Otherwise, they'd be facing a much different story.

"Still…" Doug sighed, looking somewhat dejected. "I feel like a owe you half a million apologies."

"How about we just settle for you owing me breakfast and call it a day?" Chad countered. "Is it breakfast time?"

That managed to earn a small grin from Doug. "Just about."

"Awesome," Chad said, feigning as much confidence as possible as he began his trek through Erebor in his pajamas. Like, they were nice pajamas, but they were still pajamas. He didn't even have his dressing robe. That would have given him some panache. "I've found that braving the depths of your mountain has built up quite a large appetite."

"Then maybe we should eat with Uncle Bilbo," Doug decided. "You deserve a hobbit-approved meal."

Hobbits were very serious about their food, so this was not something to be taken lightly.

"Here," Doug continued, shrugging out of his coat and draping it around Chad's shoulders, like he'd noticed the blond was self-conscious, because they were friends. He had looked.

"Thanks," Chad said, tugging the coat close.

"You really don't have to thank me after that," Doug said, seeming embarrassed by Chad's lack of shoes, but really, the damage was done and no one had been hurt, so Chad sat back and embraced the whole 'it's a new story' angle and decided not to look into it.

After all, they wouldn't have that many days left in Erebor.

-:-:-

"Eru confound the stupidity of dwarves!" was Master Baggins' reply upon learning of Chad's early morning adventure, the three of them taking breakfast out in the garden – which was, indeed, a lovely spread. "They get so caught up in their foolish traditions that they don't bother to think 'hmm, maybe this human who hasn't grown up to survive in the depths of the mountain might struggle with our dumb rituals and get himself killed, because we abandoned him to wander blind in the shadowy recesses of our mountain'!"

The hobbit released an annoyed sound and continued to pace his irritated path up and down the length of the stone-paved eating area, a handful of ravens watching on the exchange with looks of muted amusement.

"It's like they don't even think about the possible political ramifications!" Master Baggins continued. "How are we supposed to settle the minds of the citizens of our respective unions if we allow one of the charges in our care to be killed through neglect!" He let out a string of low, furious words in a language Chad couldn't place. "Dwarves!" he snapped. "Honestly, they tried that nonsense on me too when I first came to the mountain – spent sixteen hours wandering around in the damn dark, certain I was going to die, only to have that nitwit Thorin bubble in and say I would do better next time." He threw himself down in his chair with a furious growl. "It's as if they learn nothing. Dwarves are good at dwarf things while hobbits are good at hobbit things and humans are good at human things, so to try and judge one on the merits of the other is not only stupid, it's- confounding!"

"I'm um- honored by your defense of me, Master Baggins," Chad managed in the awkward silence that followed, Doug seeming to have fallen into a silence that despaired for the judgement of his kin.

"You don't have to thank me for that," Master Baggins assure him. "Though as always, your manners are greatly appreciated. Honestly," he huffed. "They should allow me to judge you by hobbit standards, for all that it matters. You'd pass our tests with flying colors."

"I'm honored-"

"And you're so nice," Master Baggins continued. "Such a sweet, earnest, thoughtful lad, and they tried to kill you in our own damn mountain!"

Chad didn't know what to say in the wake of this, so he kind of just settled for silence and tried to work on the second scone Master Baggins had set on his plate. Upon hearing Chad's story, the hobbit had left his plate positively overflowing with food, as though trying to make up for Chad's perceived slights with the comfort of his cooking, which was really thoughtful, if a bit confusing.

His choice of silence turned out to be for the best, because at that point, a new dwarf strolled into the garden, this one seeming far more regal than the usual guards and artisans Chad had interacted with.

"Thorin!" Master Baggins shouted, pushing away from the table with a scowl. "I have a thing or five hundred to say to you right now, and don't think you can sweet talk your way out of this one."

Thorin – the king of Erebor – took this chastisement with what seemed to be a sigh, which was just… very weird.

"Ghivashel," the king murmured. "I promise-"

"Inside!" Master Baggins ordered, who then proceeded to herd the king of Erebor back into his suite with a few batted waves of his hands.

So… Chad guessed they were good friends or something. He guessed that made sense. They had reclaimed Erebor together, that sort of stuff probably bonded you.

"Um," Doug said, looking a little faint. "Why don't we finish breakfast and I can show you the secret passage away from here."

"Are you worried about them?" Chad asked, nibbling on a warm, mini quiche. The eggs were so fluffy.

"Let's just say that it'll be probably better for us to be gone when they're done talking," Doug said, not seeming to be one who wanted to linger around royalty either.

Which Chad maybe felt bad about, because he was royalty, but like, unimportant royalty. He was sure Doug wouldn't mind.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Chad said, then set back to attacking his breakfast with a relish, the way Master Baggins taught him to.

After all, there was no point in wasting perfectly good food.

What would have been endnotes: Ghivashel is Khuzdul, the secret language of dwarves from Tolkien's Middle Earth, and basically means 'treasure of all treasures'. And Doug knows they need to be done by the time Bilbo finishes talking to Thorin because they will probably have make up sex or something afterwards. Just- yeah, not going to touch that one.

-:-:-

Hanover Arc – Bonding with Carlos and Doug

Notes: This happened after the accidental poisoning, was ultimately cut since we no longer needed Doug bonding. There was no way to salvage it without him, so it was ultimately done away with.

-:-:-

The sleepover was a lot of fun, Carlos slowly coming out of his shell over the course of the night to properly school Chad and Ben in the card games they had literally just taught him, all while wearing a whipped cream mustache Chad may have neglected to tell him about because it was so cute.

Because they had company, they were forced to sleep in their own beds for once, and while Chad apologized for that, Ben seemed to be so ecstatic by the prospect of actually getting somewhere with the Enchancian heirs that he didn't mind in the slightest.

"We'll make up for it tomorrow," he murmured, darting in to give Chad a soft kiss while Carlos was in the shower.

They bundled Carlos up in a spare set of Chad's clothes and called it a night, eager for what the future might bring them. Carlos parted ways with them before breakfast, likely off in search of Evie to see how last night had ended, and Chad held onto his high spirits all the way through breakfast before he braved the unknown of the marketplace surrounding Hanover castle.

His squirrel friend from yesterday dropped him to properly show him the route to the book shop, and Chad was so happy he could only hope he wasn't grinning like a lunatic. The Auradon heirs might have a chance now. Romance could happen. Ben was happier and he was about to enter a store laden with books. Everything seemed to be falling into place, and honestly, he couldn't be happier.

Which was something he seemed to be unable to contain.

"You look cheerful," a voice noted conversationally beside him, and Chad glanced over to realize it was Doug, who must have been an Erebor tagalong as well.

Wow, he was lucky.

"I'm going to look at books!" Chad chirped, offering Doug his brightest smile. "It's good to see you again. I didn't realize you were traveling along with us too."

"My father thought it was pertinent," Doug offered with a wry grin, making Chad laugh. "I feel better in your company, though."

"I'm happy to help," Chad said, forcing away a blush because Doug hadn't meant it like that, he was just being nice. "And also, you know, return the feeling."

At that, Doug's grin widened. "Could I join your book journey?"

"I'd be honored," Chad said, catching what must be the fabled bookshop off in the distance and motioning towards it. "Our stop's here."

"Then by all means," Doug said. "Lead the way."

It was nice spending time with Doug again. Chad was happy to babble to him about how his new crafts were advancing, and Doug even welcomed seeing the pictures Chad had taken of the things he'd knitted and handkerchiefs he'd embroidered on his phone.

"And your carving?" Doug asked, a light flush dusting the bridge of his nose – perhaps from the bite of minor cold.

"It's going well!" Chad gushed. "I finished my bookmark. I'm gonna practice flowers for a bit before I start trying to do people, but Ben thinks when I get more comfortable sketching them, I'll probably get more comfortable carving them, so I think there's hope for me yet."

"I'm glad to hear that," Doug said as they pushed their way into the book shop.

Oh, it was-

Yes, this was exactly the kind of paradise Chad had been hoping for. He immediately threw himself into looking for one-of-a-kind finds – fairytales and cultural histories and observations of magic development and ugh, he was so happy.

Doug had probably been to Hanover many times, since the kingdom was so close to his own. As such, he only grinned at the almost overfull handbasket Chad had laden down with books.

"I will always admire your thirst for knowledge," he told Chad plainly, because he was like that – very direct in his communications. Chad figured it was a dwarf thing, and in truth, it was one he appreciated a lot.

"Thanks," Chad said, feeling his cheeks fill with a bashful warmth. "Just- there's so much out there that we can learn. It seems silly not to take advantage of the opportunities provided to us to expand our horizons."

"A laudable mindset," Doug murmured, taking Chad's basket from him and deftly carrying it over towards the checkout counter with seemingly no effort.

The guy definitely had to be at least part dwarf. That enhanced strength and darkvision had to come from somewhere.

"I wish your Auradon associates felt the same way," Doug continued as he set the basket down at the counter.

"What do you mean?" Chad asked as he dug out his wallet. "All of them are just as adventurous as I am. Some even more. I know they'd be out here doing this if they could and-" He cut off with a blink when he realized Doug was handing a thick wad of bills over to the storekeeper. "Doug."

"If you won't accept it as a gift between friends, then perceive it as a political gesture – well wishes between the people of Erebor and Sardinia."

"But you've already given me plenty," Chad said with a flush, thinking back on the lessons Doug had arranged for him, the tool stalls he'd guided him to, the garden and stories he'd shared. "And I wouldn't have gotten as much if I'd known-"

"Exactly," Doug interrupted with a smirk. "You would have held back, and I already told you, I like feeding your thirst for knowledge."

"It's not just my thirst," Chad said with minor embarrassment as the books were neatly packed away in sturdy looking shopping bags. "It's Ben's too."

"And I'm happy to help him as well," Doug said, offering it so blithely Chad couldn't help but think it was true. "Now, would you indulge me with a walk?"

"I'm the one being indulged," Chad reminded him, but still, it was nice to walk the pleasant streets of the market place, especially with Doug, who seemed to know what everything was and didn't hesitate to share his knowledge with Chad. "So," Chad spoke up eventually, figuring he'd already monopolized the majority of their morning. "How have things been going with you? Have any romances broken out yet?"

Doug paused at this, likely startled by the turn of pace, and bust into a quiet chuckle. "No, not yet," he said. "But there was a definite shift in the mood of the Enchancian contingent at the mention of… polyamory, I believe it's called?"

"Yeah," Chad said, getting an interested look from Doug. "My friend Carlos – he's from Hanover, actually – told us that it might work better in order to get some kind of traction on the marriage contract thing, so Ben went to the Auradon chaperones to discuss it with them and his dad as soon as possible."

"And you don't think it's strange?" Doug prompted. "The idea of more than two people in a relationship?"

"No," Chad said with a shrug. "If three people are lucky enough to love each other, I think that's a gift. Why hinder it or call it wrong if they're all happy? It just seems unnecessary." He felt a certain warmth build in his cheeks. "Then again, that might just be the romantic in me."

"I wouldn't be surprised," a new voice said, and Chad must have been totally absorbed in the conversation because he didn't know someone else was upon them until they were speaking up from his opposite side.

"Jay!" Chad didn't squawk, but he definitely flailed, the Tangun teen looking at him with an expression mixed with equal parts mischief and fondness. "You snuck up on us."

"Excuse you," Jay sniffed. "I was perfectly noticeable. It wasn't my fault you didn't pay attention."

Chad waved him off with a fond roll of his eyes before turning his attention to a concerned Doug. "Doug, this is Jay, I met him in Tangu. Jay, Doug."

"Doug?" Jay echoed, like he hadn't heard Chad correctly.

"Yeah," Chad said, and now it was his turn to be confused. "Did I say it wrong?"

"No," Doug soothed, his voice firm. "You got it right for mister… what was your name again?"

"Jay," the Tangun teen informed him.

The entire exchange left Chad more confused than not.

"Aren't you guys at all the same mixers?" Chad asked. "I'm surprised you haven't met each other yet."

"I'm not," Jay cut in. "You Auradon peeps outnumber us five to one. Our focus is usually kept on you guys rather than each other."

"Oh," Chad said, taking that in. "That makes sense."

For whatever reason, that seemed to make both of them relax, as though Chad was the kind of person to argue for the sake of it.

"Yep," Jay drawled. "So uh- you guys were talking about this new polyamory thing?"

"It's not new," Chad said. "I mean, it might be new to you, but it's actually super old."

"Auradon, man," Jay said, sharing a conspiratorial look with Doug. "They're a little crazy, aren't they?"

"I don't know," Doug hummed, his lips pressed together with a neutral look. "I think they might be on to something."

"At this point, I think everyone would be happy if some kind of romance blossomed," Chad said. "Even if it was puppy love or something. Even if they don't get a marriage contract, I'm sure solidifying some kind of relationship would be a story they could sell to the public to ease the shock of discovering an entirely new union of kingdoms."

Jay made a face. "It just seems so dumb," he said. "To try and force love for political reasons."

"Maybe," Chad said. "But that's part of what being royal is about, isn't it? It's sacrifice for the sake of your people, it's allowing yourself to open up to new opportunities for their potential benefit. It's loving them enough that you're willing to risk something as momentous as love just to make their lives easier. I… I know it's kind of crazy," he allowed. "Trying to make teenagers choose their future spouses after what? A few months of mingling? It's not enough, I know that, but even if no romance comes of it, I hope this time together allows the future rulers of our kingdoms to bond and create a solid union of peace for the future."

It wasn't until he was finished that Chad realized he'd been rambling, and he was about to apologize for it when Doug cleared his throat. "Spoken like a true monarch," he said, smiling fondly. "You have a very kind heart, Chad."

"I try to," Chad admitted with a flush. "That's the way of Sardinia, you know. To have courage and be kind. And sometimes one is easier than the other, but I always find that kindness is the most important one." He let his gaze drift off towards the distance, weighed down with heavy thoughts. "It can be easy to allow life to embitter us, to make us hard, but when we do that it's… it's like we've been entirely defeated, because we've lost the point." He turned to Jay. "I'm not saying we have to be blindly kind to everyone, because not everyone has earned that right – but the small kindnesses, to ourselves or to new kingdoms or new opportunities to learn… those small things matter."

"They don't sound too small to me," Jay said, his hands shoved lazily in his pockets. "You're pretty good at this speech shit, you know? Does Prince Ben rub off on you?"

"Probably," Chad said with a laugh. "It's probably just all the therapy. Dr. Sweets has helped me learn to better articulate myself. It's nice to have that neutral third party cheering me on."

"I'd be happy to cheer you on too," Jay said, bringing Chad to a weary halt.

"…Jay," Chad said, struggling to think of a way to articulate himself.

"Not you too," Jay huffed, making Doug perk up in interest.

"Queen Scheherazade was right," Chad said. "I was distracting you-"

"The way you're distracting Doug?" Jay challenged, making Chad freeze.

"You're not a distraction, Chad," Doug said quietly. "To either of us. We know our duties, but I think… given the updated parameters, maybe our friendship will be under less scrutiny."

"You mean because the Enchancian heirs will actually try now?" Chad pressed. "So they don't have to rely on you tagalongs as much?"

There was a pause, and then Jay nodded. "Right," he said. "So, who wants brunch?"

Chad laughed. "We had breakfast like, two hours ago."

"That was breakfast," Jay said. "This is brunch. Zuchinni soup, Mushroom Spätzle Pan – other Hanoven things. Doug would know better."

"They do have some pretty good soup here," Doug offered Chad's beseeching look.

"Guys," the blond sighed, realizing he'd been outnumbered. "Fine, but promise me I'm not pulling you away from any of your duties. And also, I'm buying."

Both of them tried to protest that part, but Chad would hear none of it. If they were doing this, he was going to pull his weight and show his own appreciation towards the cool kingdom he was lucky enough to visit.

He knew he couldn't really do this again going forward. Knew he'd have to avoid Jay during their last stop if there was any hope of keeping him on task, but Chad figured he could enjoy the moment they had now, at least before it was over. They only had a few days more in Hanover, and then it was off to the above-sea capital of Atlantica – their last stop, and hope, for this summer trip to succeed.

It filled Chad with worry for his friends in the Auradon contingent, but he figured at the very least, they got an adventure out of this. If they weren't chosen, that wasn't on them. They'd done everything they could, and besides, there was plenty of opportunities for them to find their own happily ever afters back home.

So there was no point in sweating it. The future still looked very bright.

What would have been endnotes: Literally just googled 'German Brunch Foods' to get the few options Jay listed off.

-:-:-

Sea Three/Chad casual sex in Sardinia

Notes: This random whim was fun, but ultimately detracted from the relationship recovering/communication/growth part of the story, which is why I cut it. Still, it's fun to tease Harry, which may or may not have been the entire motivation for this nonsense.

Explicit content in the following scenes. Warning for overuse of the word 'flower' to refer to genitals because man was I not feeling creative that day I guess.

-:-:-

It was easy to talk about polyamory when he thought it wouldn't apply to him. Even with all his therapy, he never considered himself someone capable of winning that much love, so why bother to hope for it?

Now it seemed to just be dumped in his lap, and he didn't know if he deserved it. They hadn't known he was a prince, they didn't really know his backstory. He knew he should tell them about the full extent of his grandfather's abuse, he knew Uma would understand, it just- once it was said, then it would be done, and maybe he wouldn't seem as nice to them anymore.

He knew that wasn't the case, he knew them enough to realize they'd support him no matter what, but maybe he wanted just a few more days to enjoy what he had while he had it.

"Don't worry, blondie," Uma said, bringing him back to the present. "This doesn't have to be complicated. We're all attractive, cool people. We can hang out and enjoy each other as friends, or we could hang out and have sexy casual relations with each other and celebrate, you know, making each other feel good, but that doesn't have to wait on a marriage contract or something. We could just like each other for the sake of liking each other. Experiment for the hell of it, like normal teens do."

Chad considered this, and realized he'd already been with Uma and Gil anyway, and he'd enjoyed that a lot.

"I think that'd be nice," Gil said in that supportive way of his. "And over here, there's not as much pressure. We could just play around."

"And if we like that, great," Uma said. "That's sort of the point of sex anyway."

"…ye'll treat them nice?" Harry asked, making Chad realize belatedly that the question was aimed at Uma, Harry worried that she'd take care of Gil and Chad.

She let out an unimpressed huff. "I'll treat them like the gifts they are," she huffed. "I'll even treat you nicely, or not nicely, depending on what you want."

"Fine," Harry said. "Whatever, we may as well do this before we get dragged back to Enchancia. That is…" He sat up so he could get a fair look at Chad. "So long as that's something ye want? Ye don't have to be pressured into anything just because of us."

"I think that would be nice," Chad said, thinking about how normal teens must do things, then remembering all that once that 'normal' was what you made of it. "I'd be honored to experiment with you guys."

"Then let's get down to the ocean," Uma declared with a smirk. "I've got some stuff I want to investigate."

-:-:-

It took them a long time to convince Harry to join them in the ocean, the Port Roylan teen more used to sailing on the water than being in it, but eventually he caved under the weight of Gil's puppy eyes and Uma's unimpressed smirk, which he insisted didn't bother him despite the fact that even Chad knew it very much did.

So they set out for the private cove behind Sardinia Castle and allowed Uma to cast her water breathing spell on them, the four of them swimming down into the special underwater cave that Uma had created just for their privacy – her own home away from home when she needed to spend prolonged amounts of time in her mer-form.

"This is stupid," Harry muttered, shucking off his swim trunks with a dark flush and keeping them bundled above his groin, as though they couldn't see he was already aroused. "Why can't we just have sex on land?"

"Because Chad and Uma don't have access to their special places in their usual forms," Gil offered with a smile. "I mean- oops, that was supposed to be a surprise."

"Wait," Harry said, his cheeks flushing dark. "Ye mean- that thing ye warned me about…?"

Uma had already briefed Harry on the additional changes his body could go through once he transformed, though she had emphasized the rarity of such occurrences, which was probably what left Harry shocked.

"Yep," Uma said with a smirk, cool as ice. "You wanna glimpse at that, though, you've got to pay the toll. Let me transform you first so we can get a good look at your scales."

"Whatever," Harry said, passing over his swim trunks and flushing dark when Uma let out a low whistle.

It was enough of a challenge that Harry didn't hide the length pressing against his stomach, which was definitely pretty in its own way – flushed and shuddering, though Chad wasn't afforded a view long because soon Uma was casting the transfiguration spell, shifting Harry's legs into a black tail highlighted with frequent splashes of red that made Harry even prettier than he'd been before.

"Wow, Harry," Gil said dreamily, looking over his friend's tail. "You look so cool."

"Damn right, he does," Uma hummed. "Now let's see those bad boys part…"

She motioned towards his groin, and Chad likely wasn't the only one waiting with baited breath as those scales pulled apart, the tip of Harry's length poking through and…

Seeming um- substantially smaller than it had been before.

"What?" Harry croaked, staring at his shrunken length. "Uma, ye fucking-"

"Hey, don't get mad at me," Uma huffed, her lips quirked in amusement. "The spell depends on your biology. If you were a mer-man, this is what you'd be working with."

"I think it's cute, Harry," Gil offered, making Harry flush and the small length give an appreciative twitch. "And hey, it should be really easy to suck now-"

He cut off with a blink, all of them watching as the scales under Harry's length seemed to pull open, revealing-

"Huh," Uma mused as she swam closer, Harry letting out a definite whine at the pink folds that were deftly exposed. "Look at that."

Compared to Chad, hell, compared to Uma, the new addition was um- very large, swollen and twitching and seeming very eager – a strange compliment to Harry's diminutive member.

"What the hell?" Harry snapped, staring at his new privates. "Why's it so fucking big?"

"Means you're very fertile," Uma hummed, seeming pleased by this. "You could have a lot of babies if you wanted."

"I can't- that's not a thing I can do," Harry snapped, flushing dark.

"Maybe not in your human form," Uma allowed. "But according to this, you very much could." She traced the scales just surrounding the new area, making Harry shiver. "Could we please you, Hook? Or do you wanna transform back? We'd be fine either way."

"Oh, could I please touch your lady spot, Harry?" Gil asked, eyes hopeful. "I wanna make it feel good."

"Ye can- fine," Harry snapped, trying to hold onto his grumpiness as a measure of control. "But don't be disappointed when nothing fucking- Uma," he cut off with an abrupt groan, the squidmaid easing two fingers into his warmth, two fingers that he took like nothing. "I- I-"

"Yeah, we know," Uma said, pumping her fingers in and out of those twitching folds. "We all know you wanna be filled, Hook, and we're here to do it."

"Fuck," Harry groaned, the sensitive flesh releasing clouds of slick he couldn't seem to stop if he tried. "F-Fuck, Uma- I can't-"

"Do you need to transform back?" Uma asked, pulling her hand out carefully.

"No," Harry hissed, wiggling his hips enticingly. "No, please."

"We've got you," Uma hummed, and then she went back to work, Gil moving to join her while Chad watched with a dazed expression, almost mesmerized by the attention Harry was able to take, the way he writhed and shook in their hands.

He shifted so he could pet his hands through Harry's dark locks, content to watch for the moment while the other two doted on him.

"You could take my whole fist, Harry," Uma murmured into his ear. "Could take two dicks easily. Do you like the thought of that?"

"Y-Yes," Harry moaned. "I do, I… fuck."

"Nothing wrong with that," Uma hummed. "Spell must have picked up on a subconscious desire on your part."

"Uma," Harry whined, but that didn't stop her from adding more fingers, didn't stop Gil from teasing his tiny, twitching length.

"I could probably find a way to give this to you on land, you know," Uma continued. "Would you like that? Would you like having Jay's dick in you?"

A twist of her hand, and Harry mewled, releasing another cloud of interest.

"N-No," Harry gasped. "Not- not him."

"Yes, him," Uma countered stubbornly. "You want him to fuck you almost as much as you want Ben – and you know what? There's not a damn thing wrong with that, they're both hot individuals."

"Ah," Harry panted. "Ah."

"But, you know, there's always anal," Uma said, undeterred. "We've got options, though I think if they saw how wonderfully flushed you were-"

"Stop staring," Harry hissed, blushing furiously at the gazes they pinned to his groin, seeming to shudder at the way he continued to twitch wide, as though desperate for more. "It's not that fucking interesting."

"You really are, though," Gil said. "You're super pretty like this, Harry, and we're um- honored to make you feel good."

"Fuck," Harry said, gushing around Uma's fingers again.

"I think we're going to have to take things up a notch, Gil," Uma hummed, withdrawing her fingers. "Think he's ready for my tentacles?"

"…maybe after he admits he has a pretty flower," Gil settled on. "And that he likes when we look at it."

"I don't," Harry snarled, making Uma share a look with Gil.

"Okay," Uma said, her and Gil backing off in one, the squidmaid grabbing Harry's wrists and pinning them up above his head. "So," she began, her gaze fixed on Harry's warm folds. "Nice weather we're having, right?"

"Oh, super nice," Gil agreed before the two of them proceeded to throw together small talk all while staring at Harry's groin, neither of them making an effort to touch them.

Harry seemed settled with this for all of ten seconds before he started shaking in Uma's hold, trying to get his wrists out of her grip.

"Assholes," Harry muttered, weakly tugging at his arms. "Come on."

"Come on, what?" Uma asked, grinning when a new cloud of slick was released from Harry's groin, the third in five minutes, which only made Harry more embarrassed.

"Just- help me put it away," Harry groaned. "Please."

"If you want us to do that, you have to admit you have a pretty flower," Uma hummed. "And that you like it when we stare at you." She tilted her head in thought. "You might even need to elaborate on how it makes you feel."

"H-Hot," harry admitted with a flush. "It makes me feel hot, okay? I feel um- dumb and sexy and warm and just- touch me."

"Do you have a pretty flower?" Uma pressed, making Harry groan.

"Yes," he snarled. "I have the prettiest damn flower, now would ye- Uma."

He cut off with a croak when Uma plunged one of her tentacles between his folds, taking her time to grind it in and out of him until he was really shaking. Chad knew from experience how good it felt, and wasted no time nuzzling Harry's shoulder, whispering words of encouragement of how good he was doing.

"You look so pretty, Harry," he murmured. "Your flower's doing such a good job taking Uma."

"Chad," Harry moaned, curling his head towards him. "I…"

"Harry," Uma said, her voice firm. "Tell me how good your flower feels."

"So good, so fucking good- shit," Harry groaned. "My flower needs- please keep fucking it- I need- I-"

"We're here for you, Harry," Gil said, covering his shoulders with kisses. "We're here for you and you're doing a great job for us."

"So pretty," Uma hummed, and that seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, Harry falling apart with a glorious shout as he arched in their hold.

Uma was sure to guide him through it the entire time, pumping her tentacle in an out until Harry finally stopped gushing, giving him one last caress before the scales slid back into position, his small length shifting back into his tail.

"So," Uma said after they'd all caught their breath. "I think we're going to need to go swimming a lot more often."

-:-:-

They did, was the thing. Anytime they got the opportunity, they'd sneak out to the cover to transform into their merforms, not always under the guise of sex, of course. Sometimes they'd go to play tag or get some exercise or explore the marine life, but almost every time they would have to pause when Harry inevitably got worked up – most of the time without them even touching him. They'd be doing something and his scales would part, the prince letting out an embarrassed whine when those flushed folds came out on display – such a stark contrast against his scales that he couldn't hide it no matter how hard he tried.

Like Chad, after the first time it was hit or miss as to whether his length would come out as well, though most of the time it didn't, leaving Harry even more embarrassed despite the fact they all greatly enjoyed doting on him no matter what form he was in.

"Gilly," he croaked the first time the other blond had properly fucked him, only after Uma had magically confirmed the seal on the condom so as not to have any accidents.

"He's super fertile, Gilbert," Uma informed the blond sagely. "It isn't going to take much to cause trouble."

"Shit," harry groaned, releasing another cloud of telling slick.

"Should have known you were an exhibitionist," Uma said as they started sexing it up in stranger locations, until at last they had Harry in a tidepool, the prince on display to anyone who inadvertently stumbled into their private cove.

"I'm not a fucking- Uma," Harry whined, the princess working a thick vibrator in and out of him this time while Chad watched from the comfort of Gil's lap, the two of them happy to cuddle while Uma and Harry got out their aggression on each other.

It didn't stop in their merforms – it was just more obvious there because they had more freedom underwater. Above water, Uma was still very much the boss of all of them, as much as Harry tried to fight it.

Tried, and inevitably failed, which ended with him magically tied on his hands and knees while Uma worked to stretch him open, her hands parting his cheeks wide so Gil and Chad could watch her work against that puckered ring of muscle.

"You're such a fucking asshole," harry croaked, naked as the day he was born.

"And you love it," Uma cackled. "Now, if you're a good boy, I'll let Gilly fuck you, but if you're a bad boy, I might just have to give you a spanking."

Suffice it to say, Harry was a bad boy, who managed to fall apart after the eighth spank.

"Masochist," Uma muttered, her voice full of fondness. "You okay, baby?"

"Yes, Uma," Harry slurred, his eyes glazed over. "Can I be good now?"

"Sure," Uma would say, pressing a kiss to his forehead before allowing Gil to take him off for a shared bath.

No matter how much they fought, they always seemed to come together in the end, and with each passing day, Harry's adoration for Uma seemed to grow.

"You gonna put on a show for us?" Uma asked as the three of them curled up together on the bed, Harry standing mostly naked except for the bondage gear Uma had transfigured for him – this a lovely shade of light blue that brought out his eyes.

"Yes, Uma," Harry murmured with a flush, shifting to catch his bound together wrists onto the hook hanging just above his chair. As he sat down, his arms were pulled above his head, though their focus was fixed below him, to the dildo he slowly worked into himself. He kept his legs wide, flushing under their attention until the toy was fully eased into him.

"Come on, Harry," Uma said, her smile fond. "Nice and slow, now."

He took his time, working himself up and down the toy. It was amazing to see this vulnerability in him, his cheeks flushed and eyes closed, lips parted as he loosed quiet pants that got more and more desperate the longer he went on.

"U-Uma," he gasped a good ways into it. "I need- I um- I need help."

"It's okay," Uma hummed. "Just sit down, I've got you."

And that was how they learned it wasn't a dildo at all, but a vibrator, and Harry fell apart with a croak almost immediately after, his length twitching hard against his stomach.

They always took care of him after the fact, always praised him, and the more this went on, the more he seemed at ease outside their bedroom engagements, the prince seeming less snappish and defensive about everything. If anything, he seemed grounded, more open to showing affection, to showing his softer side, like he wasn't afraid of failure at every given moment.

"That's my sweet boy," Uma would murmur into his ear, pressing a kiss just under his jaw, and Harry would eagerly shiver into her attentions, wearing a smile that grew more genuine every day.

It was good to see his progression, but mostly, Chad couldn't help but marvel that he'd somehow had a part of it. Not as big a part as Uma and Gil, but still, a minor part.

That was something.

-:-:-

The Sequel that Didn't Happen – Doug-centric

Notes: I decided to take Doug's exclusion from the first story as an opportunity to make him the star of a sequel. It would be something that played off of Carlos' attempted reforms – the magic detection system he designed that would look for troubled teens. The story would start not long after the first one ended (pre-epilogue) before jumping forward in time. Of course, in this version Doug would be the kidnapped son of royalty, because what am I if not predictable?

Warnings for extreme abuse (non graphic), neglect, exploitation, uh… referenced sexual abuse? I can't remember, imprisonment/slavery – all of a minor.

-:-:-

The day Dug's life had changed struck with such sudden ferocity that he hadn't even been partially prepared for it, the previous sixteen years of his existence indicating that company of any kind in his dark, dank living space never led to good things, let alone company that entered in an explosive manner. Dug didn't know how he'd come to be where he was – his masters had never felt inclined to explain it to him, only outlining their expectations for him and visiting when they felt inclined to search for a particular form of entertainment. It had taken Dug a long time to realize that no matter how dedicated or obedient or quiet he carried himself, he would never be able to completely avoid punishments. They were easier to guess when he broke things or didn't finish a certain task in time. Those were guaranteed beatings, but sometimes his masters would slink down the shadowy staircase that led to his home on days when Dug had done everything completely right. They would hurt him for the sake of it, sometimes laughing, sometimes doing other things. Things Dug didn't like to dwell on.

They called him trash and mocked his dirty stature despite rarely allowing him enough water to fix that problem. Sometimes, Dug could clean his clothes with the murky water after he'd finished their laundry, but that always left him vulnerable, and if they decided to pay a visit to him while he was in that state, it was almost always a guarantee for other things.

It was understandable why Dug would try to avoid such instances.

His life was hard, but predictable. He woke, he worked, he lived off the scraps they offered him. Sometimes mice would visit but Dug would have to hide them, for his while they would distract his masters for a short time, the reprieve was not worth witnessing their anger get diverted onto such innocent creatures.

Dug wasn't sure what he had done to deserve such a life. He just knew he had to take what comforts he could – like resting beside the dying fire to be warmed by the cinders, or hearing the gentle calls from outside. Getting a piece of bread that was more middle than crust, that wasn't stale and hard. His entire life was cleaning and shoveling the coal into the furnace, and every once and a while he'd be taken upstairs to clean the kitchen or the bathrooms or weed the gardens. He liked being outside, but he couldn't linger or they'd leave him there, and as much as he feared the house, he knew it offered safety from the wolves that howled in the distance – bloodthirsty things that would rip him apart, according to his masters.

That was his existence, until the day it'd changed, a day when Dug was down in his room, weaving a new rug from reeds. He'd gotten better at it, over the years.

The first sound of commotion left him tense but not flinching, as such things were not uncommon. Sometimes the masters fought each other – taking their frustrations out amongst themselves rather than at Dug. Sometimes they fought with the guests they invited, the ones that Dug would sometimes act as entertainment for. Such a ruckus was as likely to lead to good things as it was bad, so Dug kept himself focused on his task. There was no point in worrying when he couldn't change the outcome. He'd already saved as much spare fabric as he could for bandages and hidden it behind a loose brick next to the herbs he'd learned helped with some of his wounds. He couldn't treat everything, but it would stop the major cuts from getting all hot and puffy, and that was a good enough win for Dug.

He was calm until he heard the door to the stairs get kicked open, as though someone battered through it with brute force alone, which had never happened before. His masters were rough, but only those given the key were allowed downstairs. It wouldn't make sense for someone to force their way in, not when the basement had so little offerings, not when the rest of the house was much nice.

Immediately, whatever apathy Dug had was abandoned as he backed away from the half-finished rug, the servant scrambling towards the darkest section of the room. Were he a fighter, he would have positioned himself by the fireplace, would have used the strange toughness of his hands to grab up some of the hot embers to use as tools, but if he was wrong and it was his masters, they might make good on that promise to put hot embers in Dug's mouth, and he was almost certain that was one of the few parts of him that couldn't withstand such extreme heat.

So Dug hid, shoving himself under the rickety table in the far corner where the masters sometimes mixed and bagged their powders and potions, an area Dug was never to touch ever, lest he wish to lose his tongue.

They didn't get as mad when he hid under the table, though. They seemed to think that was funny.

Dug's heart was pounding in his chest when he pushed himself into the corner, conscious of the heavy footsteps that echoed down the staircase. It was a new sound, the boots sounding more substantial than anything else Dug had heard before, though when he caught the legs of the intruder, they seemed more slender, like his younger master.

"What is this place?" a young voice said, belonging to a second pair of legs, the feet larger than that of the first, closer to Dug's size.

"It's where they packaged the goods," the first intruder said, their voice unlike anything Dug had ever heard. Softer, perhaps? He couldn't explain it, and distantly, he wondered if maybe this was a 'woman' like the masters had in their magazines, a creature fabled to exist that Dug had never seen. "It's also where the distress enchantment indicated our endangered individual is."

"Someone's in here?" the young voice asked. "I don't see anyone."

"They're probably hiding," the soft voice said. "Hello? I am a huntsman of Queen Snow's guard. I'm here to help you."

"Oh wow," the young voice said, shifted low to a quiet whisper. "I never thought my training trip would turn out like this."

"Focus, Gil," the soft voice said, the slender legs beginning to move about the area, surveying it. "I'm sorry for the rough intrusion, but I promise we mean you no harm. You're not in trouble."

Dug said nothing, because his masters had played tricks like this before, had set Dug free only to chase him down for their own amusement. They'd done it once every couple of years to test their tracking skills, he guessed, and every time, he'd fallen for it like the fool he was.

He'd never gotten past the stream.

As his current injuries stood and with winter setting in, Dug would never be able to make it far, and he didn't have the heart to try again. He was always in trouble, he didn't even know why he was hiding.

"Hello?" the young voice called, walking in the opposite direction of the first intruder, coming closer to Dug. "I'm sorry if we scared you. If it makes you feel any better, I was scared too. That was way more intense than I thought it was going to be."

"Gil," the first intruder tutted.

"Why? It was," Gil – the young voice – replied. "I thought Huntsmen stuff was all border patrols and fighting cursed beasts. Accidentally locating drug traffickers with our new protective spells is- well, I guess it's good, but still intense." He drew closer to Dug's table, seeming to turn in a slow circle. "Do you think Carlos will get a medal for this? He definitely deserves one. Maybe Queen Snow could invent one to give to him for being so helpful. It could even be black and white, like his hair-"

In an unexpected movement, the young intruder crouched down, likely for the purposes of looking underneath Dug's table, and caught sight of Dug cowering in the darkness.

"Hey, there you are!" Gil chirped, his lips pulled into a smile that didn't seem half as ruthless as Dug's masters.

Despite this, Dug still flinched back, pulling his legs even closer towards his chest while he felt tears leak from the corners of his eyes, because change was never good.

"Oh, hey- please don't cry," Gil said, and while Dug had heard this request before, it had never been offered so… was it worriedly? He didn't know. "I promise, we're not here to hurt you. And we're not going to let any of those guys upstairs hurt you either, okay? They're all being arrested as we speak."

Dug didn't know what that meant, and now that he was found, he knew there wasn't much hope for him. He took in his would-be attacker, and at least he had long hair like Dug. Maybe he wouldn't yank on Dug's as much because of it. Gil's hair was gold, and glint in the low light of the basement, and his outfit – much like the first intruder's – seemed to be some kind of uniform, durable leathers and enchanted armor pieces the likes of which Dug's masters had only ever yearned for. They'd been trying to get something like it from the black market, but they hadn't had any luck.

Dug was sort of glad for it – upkeep on such clothing would likely be difficult.

"Gil," the first intruder sighed, their steps quiet when they moved to join him. They kept back a few feet, thankfully, and when they knelt down, Dug realized that it was a woman in the flesh, though she was dressed as a warrior instead of in those revealing clothes in the magazines, her hair pulled back into an intricate braid Dug longed to study. "This is the part where you hang back and observe like a good trainee."

"But I can't leave him there," Gil insisted, giving the woman a pained look before turning back to Dug. "Hey, um- you are a 'he', right?"

It wasn't a question Dug had been asked before – his masters and their friends already knew the answer to that question – so he slowly nodded, confusion buffering in against his fear.

"Great," Gil said, smiling wide. "Me too! I mean- I'm Gil." He pressed a hand against his chest to indicate this. "And this is my trainer, Sara." He motioned to the woman. "We came because one of our kingdom's scanning spells detected an endangered person, and that's you. And because all of Hanover's citizens are entitled to not being in danger, we came to see if we could fix things, because we're good guys."

Most of those words were beyond Dug. Hanover, he knew was the land the house was in, his masters had referred to it before. He'd also overheard them complaining about 'scanning spells', but none of them had seemed to worry about them very much.

He didn't know what endangered meant, unless they were referring to his various injuries, but he'd had some various assortment of aches and pains for as long as he could remember, so he wasn't sure why they would come now and not before, unless he really was the garbage his masters said he was, and he hadn't been worth it then.

"What's your name?" Gil asked after a strained beat of silence.

Doug frowned, then pressed a hand to his mouth to show that he remembered his training, shaking his head fervently. He was a good dog. Good dogs didn't make noise.

"You can't talk?" Gil asked, his brows furrowed together, something that worsened when Dug nodded. "Can you write?"

He'd seen his masters do such things when he worked in the kitchen, but he'd never been allowed to try it himself. The very thought of it made Dug feel shaky.

He shook his head.

"Okay, then we'll just stick to yes or no questions," Gil decided. He shared a look with Sara, who seemed content to let him take the lead. "Do you know how long you've been here?" Dug nodded. "Could you show me on your fingers how many years?"

Counting, Dug could do, as it was a necessity of his chores. They'd send him to hunt for mushrooms but only if he brought back the right amount.

Shakily, Dug held up both his hands, keeping his fingers splayed, and then lowered four of them, hoping they would understand.

"Sixteen years?" Gil asked, and Dug nodded.

Sara cleared her throat. "Is that your entire life?"

When Dug nodded again, her expression seemed to fall the way his masters' did when they had just been vexed by something that they'd likely take out on Dug, and immediately, Dug hid his face in the shelter of his knees, hoping that whatever punishment might follow would be a swift one.

"Hey, no – she's not mad at you," Gil murmured. "She's mad at the guys upstairs that locked you down here, okay? Not you." When Dug risked looking up, it was to see Gil's supporting smile, and he seemed to sincerely believe that.

"Gil's right," Sara murmured, and when Dug looked at her, her expression was neutral once more. "Nothing here that happened is your fault, but we would like to get you out of here so we can get your wounds treated."

She nodded towards his feet, which bore so many blisters and scabs Dug had sort of stopped noticing them, the aches a familiar part of his existence. Dogs didn't wear shoes, and only bad dogs wanted them.

"Could you come out from under there?" Gil asked, holding his hand out. Dug flinched, making the blond frown. "I promise, we're not going to hurt you. I know we look scary because of all our weapons and stuff and- oh." He pulled his hand back, fumbling for something on his belt (which did have a sharp looking axe attached to it) before he put his hand back out again, this time armed with a knife. "Here," Gil said, placing the knife right next to Dug, within his reach. "That way you're not unarmed."

"Gil," Sara chastised, but Dug was too busy fumbling for the knife, pulling it close to his chest.

He knew this was a test. They'd give it to him but he couldn't use it because if he did, the punishment would be far worse than before. It was a test, but it made him feel a lot better, so he curled his fingers around the hilt and tried not to stare at being offered so substantial a weapon. Even his rug-making knives were smaller than this, dull and flat and barely good for anything.

Gil held his hand out again. "Could you come out now?"

Dug swallowed hard, wondering why he'd even waited this long. He tentatively reached out, curling his hand around Gil's own, wanting to flinch at how much dirtier he was. He would mar the blond's leather work gloves, at this rate, fingerless things like the ones his masters liked to wear sometimes.

"Hey, you're doing great," Gil chirped as he gently tugged Dug forward, and he didn't even berate or curse at Dug when he shakily crawled out from under the table, his legs wanting to crumble underneath him entirely, though he knew that was mostly from fear rather than exhaustion. "Do you want me to carry you?"

Dug froze, giving him a confused look. He'd never been carried before, though sometimes his masters dragged him. They thought it was funny.

"Here," Gil said, and then he was guiding Dug's arm around his shoulder, wrapping one of his arms around Dug's waist, like he was afraid to touch his wretched state. "You can lean on me."

Tentatively, Dug tried it out, wondering if Gil would shove him to the ground if he tried for too much, but the blond merely accepted his weight with a grin before guiding them back towards the staircase.

Dug felt suspended in disbelief his entire way up the stairs, willing his pulse to settle when they passed the broken door, when they walked down the hall. They got out into clear air and sunshine to see a large collection of vehicles outside the house like none Dug had ever seen. There was a huge car with a gigantic square back that one of his masters was being led into, but his hands were tied behind his back and his face was bruised and bleeding, the man spitting curses before he was locked inside by a man wearing the same uniform as Gil and Sara.

"We found the victim," Sara said to one of the nearby uniformed men while Gil led Dug to a car with a smaller box on the back, this one seeming to have a small bed inside, as well as a bench and a lot of storage drawers. "He's about Gil's age, far as we can tell. Mute, male, has been here all his life."

"Fucking hell," the uniformed man sighed, glaring at the car that held Dug's master.

"I'm gonna see that he's taken to the hospital now," Sara said. "We'll go from there."

There was a person in the back of the smaller box car that wore a different outfit from Sara, though it also seemed like a uniform – words embroidered into the breast of her jacket indicating something. She sat Dug on the bench between Gil and Sarah and started looking at the cuts and burns on his hands, which was scary enough, but then someone shut the back of the car and it started moving.

Dug had never been in a moving vehicle before. He'd seen them, been dragged behind them, but had never gotten in one. It was scary, to see the house slowly disappear out the back window, to realize that if this was all a trick, it was a far meaner one than any they'd tried before, because the new woman was cleaning Dug's hands and treating them gently, rubbing ointment against his aches before putting bandaids on them – which Dug had seen before but also never used.

Were they really going to a hospital? His masters went to the hospital when one of them got injured on the job, and they always came back grumpier than before. It almost made the days or weeks they'd been missing not worth it.

Would Dug come out of the hospital annoyed too? What did they do there?

He didn't know, but he was distracted by the conversation Gil kept up with him the entire ride there. The blond seemed perfectly happy maintaining a conversation by himself, explaining everything that was happening, where they were going. The words sort of washed over Dug, who kept expecting to be throne from the car at any minute, for his masters to burst in through the back doors and drag him out snarling, ripping off the band aids he'd just acquired.

And yet, that never happened. The second woman treated Doug's hands before moving to his forearms, then started treating some of the cuts on his face.

Dug didn't know how much time had passed before the car came to a stop, and when the back doors opened up, it revealed a world unlike any he'd ever seen before.

His entire life had been spent in the woods and the farmhouse, but the place Sara ushered him towards was gigantic, the biggest building Dug had ever seen, and there were more cars in front of it than he'd ever seen in one place before. He was so overwhelmed by the bright lights and smooth rock floors that he didn't realize he was getting ushered into a chair with wheels on the side until he was sitting in it, and then the second uniformed woman pushed him into the massive building. The hospital.

There seemed to be people everywhere – bright lights everywhere. They hurt Dug's eyes, and the noise was more than he was used to, making him huddle in on himself. It was a relief to finally be shown into a small room away from everything else – this place painfully clean, like some kind of bedroom – which made Dug realize he was sitting in a chair.

Immediately, he scrambled out of it, searching for a new corner for him to cower in. In his dazed state, he'd forgotten himself, and it had been so nice not to put weight on his feet- he hadn't been thinking. He should start punishing himself now, before they did it.

"Hey, are you alright?" Gil said, the blond crouching in front of Dug again. "Did the chair hurt?"

Dug shook his head frantically, feeling new tears build up in his eyes. He swallowed hard, then pointed to the chair, pointing to himself before shaking his head frantically. Gil didn't seem to get it yet, but he should know. Dogs weren't supposed to get on the furniture.

"You're… not supposed to use chairs?" Gil asked, seeming to put it together.

Dug swallowed hard. Nodded.

"Oh. Okay." Gil didn't seem to understand, but he didn't yell at Dug either. "Um… how about beds?"

Dug shook his head again.

Sara and the person who'd been pushing the chair with wheels were still in the doorway, holding back to give them space or, more likely, to close off that avenue of escape.

"…that is a conundrum," Gil said, and then he was standing up, walking over to the bed. He grabbed something off of it and returned, holding it out to Dug. "Here, it's a pillow," he said. "You can sit on it."

It was… a cushion? He wanted- he was worried about how hard the floor was.

Dug could scarcely believe it. He grabbed the pillow before the blond could take it away. He was used to the packed dirt of his basement floor, but this was- it was cold and harder, and the pillow did help.

"See, that's better," Gil said, smiling wide. "I'll try to get you some more, okay? Get you a proper nest."

Dug didn't know what that meant, but he simply nodded, waiting for Sara and the new person to come inside. He could see it was a man now.

"Does he have any pressing injuries?" the man asked, addressing Sara.

Sara shook her head. "Nothing life threatening."

"Then we'll need to get him cleaned up first," the man said. "Can he do it on his own?"

"Can you?" Gil asked Dug, seeming to understand he was eavesdropping.

Dug gave him a helpless look. He couldn't see a rag or bucket in the immediate vicinity.

"I could help you," Gil offered, making Dug pause. "Show you how to use the stuff, I mean. The room comes with a bathroom."

Dug had cleaned many bathrooms before, but he had never dared to use one.

"We'll have to cut his hair," the man said, looking at the tangled, oily mess falling around Dug's shoulders.

Immediately, Dug was clutching at it with his free hand, his stomach tightening. His hair had always been a mess, but it was- it was his, and despite its knots, he'd always felt a connection to it, even when it gave his masters extra leverage to grab onto him.

"Hey, it's okay," Gil soothed. "I'll help you clean it up, alright? It will be okay."

He helped Dug up before the others could argue this, then led him through a small door Dug hadn't noticed before that was indeed a bathroom – this one also brightly lit and very clean.

"Sara's going to get you new clothes, okay, but we're gonna focus on your hair," Gil said, before fumbling for a comb that had been left on the counter.

Dug had never had anyone help him with anything. No one had ever washed his clothes or treated his wounds. No one had ever touched his hair in a manner that wouldn't immediately instigate pain. Already that day had given him band aids, something he had seen but never experienced, and the idea of even having a comb near him, let alone getting used…

He held his breath, but Gil was careful when he angled the brush near Dug's hair, focusing on the very ends of his tangled locks while they both settled in on the floor. Dug braced himself for new tears against his scalp, but when Gil started his work, he didn't really feel much of anything. Amazingly enough, the blond seemed to be taking great pains not to hurt him, even though that most assuredly took more effort than not.

They stayed on the floor like that for Dug didn't know how long. His hair was sort of awful, but Gil never complained, patiently working through every tangle, occasionally misting Dug's hair with some solution that Sara had delivered along with the new clothes. They looked soft and whole, and they weren't even brown. There were socks too, and Dug wanted to touch them, but he was still having trouble believing that anyone would put this much effort into him.

But Gil did. He worked and worked until Dug's hair was tangle free, and only then did he pull back with a wide smile.

"There you go," Gil said, gently tugging Dug to his feet. "Now um- have you ever used a shower before?"

Dug had not, but Gil taught him how – showed off the system that fell down like soft rain, the water warm, which was a definite first for Dug.

Being naked in front of someone else rarely meant good things for Dug, but for Gil – after he'd spent all that time on Dug's hair, if he um- wanted to do other things, Dug thought he maybe might not mind. It might even be nice.

It had never been nice before, but he was experiencing a lot of firsts that day. That could be a first too.

Except Gil didn't seem interested in what Dug's masters had used him for. He seemed to get flushed for some reason when he helped Dug out of his clothes, but he didn't make any advancements past showing Dug how to clean himself when the servant got into the shower. It felt… it was so nice – and he looked down to see the dirt and muck swirling down the drain, browns and grays and old wounds that had reopened and leaked clotted blood. It took a couple of wash cloths and bottles of cleaning stuff to get Dug entirely free of his grime, and when he finally stepped out of the shower, there were towels – soft ones, to dry off with. He wouldn't just have to put his clothes on wet. He'd get to- it was almost like a real person.

"Hey, look at you," Gil said after he'd helped Dug into the new clothes, the socks saved for later because someone was going to bandage Dug's feet too, apparently.

The blond guided Dug over to a mirror, and the servant froze, not recognizing the person staring back at him. He'd seen his reflection in the cracked mirrors of the farmhouse when he'd cleaned the bathrooms, but he'd never looked this… normal.

"Yeah," Gil said, coming up beside him with a wide smile. "You look really nice."

Nice. The very thought made Dug feel warm. He'd never been anything more than wretched his entire life. To be considered nice seemed entirely impossible, and yet, Gil seemed to mean it.

"Come on," Gil said before urging Dug back into the other room.

Sara was there with two more individuals – the man that had wheeled Dug in and a giant beast of a man with dark skin, someone that made Dug instantly want to dart back into the bathroom, except he was wearing a smile that was just as warm as Gil's.

"Hey there, kiddo," the giant man greeted, his tone jovial and warm. "I'm Dr. Sweet, I'll be looking after you while you recuperate. Why don't you come and have a seat and we'll see what we can do, okay?"

While they'd been in the bathroom, the corner Dug had originally hid in had been decorated with a large, flat pillow – with dozens more on top of it. They wanted him to rest there, to- they'd done this for him. For his comfort.

It was enough to make him start tearing up – the cleaning and the clothes and the band aid he already had, the comb Gil had let him keep.

"Hey, it's alright," Gil soothed as he lowered Dug onto the pillows. "You deserve this, okay bud? You deserve this and then some."

It still seemed entirely impossible to believe. The trip. The rescue. Being somewhere beyond the farmhouse. He kept thinking that eventually he was going to wake up, and he'd have hell to pay because he'd fallen asleep instead of finishing his woven rug.

So when Gil wrapped an arm around his shoulder, Dug leaned into him, because maybe he really was the knight in shining armor his masters had always mocked him for wanting, a concept he never would have even thought of had they not told him of it themselves.

Dug was a damsel, and yet despite being no fair maiden, he had gotten saved.

Perhaps now, he could allow himself the risk of hoping.

What would have been endnotes: Sara is from The Huntsman – Winter's War or whatever, which isn't a Disney movie but I needed a Huntsman who wasn't Erik (Snow White's husband in my head canon) so she got to step in.

-:-:-

So much happened in the next few hours, Dug could barely process it. There were scans to check for broken bones, blood tests. There were salves and ointments and potions and more bandages and diagnoses – and Gil and Sara remained for all of it. Halfway through the evening, Dr. Sweet had given him something called sunglasses that were a blessing, dark shades that protected Dug's eyes from the bright glint of the overhead lights.

Dug learned that he was malnourished and underweight, learned that he was dehydrated and had hairline fractures from old wounds that hadn't healed right. He had a few infections – some from his wounds, some not, and something called an STI, which explained some of Dug's issues um- down there. By the end of it, Dug was given medicine – not drugs, because he couldn't take drugs, he would never dare cut into his masters' profits, and he liked these new masters far more than he'd ever enjoyed the old ones. They gave him something that made him feel less achy and something to help with the infections and an IV bag to help with nutrients and then they'd gotten Dug food, and not just- not just whatever they had leftover but an actual meal.

It looked so very perfect that Dug was terrified to touch it. There was soup and a roll and tea and apple juice, and it all smelled so delicious and was so much that Dug feared it might be taken away. He'd already gotten so much, but to also have this was- and what if he ate it and then they beat him until he threw it up again? His old masters had only done that sometimes, they found his other punishments more interesting, but if they did that too… they wouldn't have gone through the effort to treat him if they were just going to hurt him, right?

"Try to eat as much as you can," Dr. Sweet said gently. "But don't force yourself. Your stomach's smaller than it should be because you haven't gotten regular meals, so just eat what you can, and know that when you're hungry later, we'll get you more."

"I promise," Gil said, his eyes wide and meaningful. "I'll get it for you myself. I'll punch people if I have to."

"But he won't have to," Sara cut in gently. "Because you're a patient at this hospital, and patients do not get starved."

With that spelled out for him, Dug shakily started eating the food.

He wanted to inhale all of it, but he forced himself to go slow, drinking from the bowl when he thought it was cool enough and tearing off small pieces of bread. He didn't have nearly as much as he wanted to, but he still had more than he'd ever gotten before, until he was tearing up again.

"It's all good, bud," Gil said, hugging him to his side again. "It's okay, you can have more later."

Though it went against everything he'd come to experience, Dug found himself believing Gil. It was sort of terrifying.

Eventually, when the food and the doctors were all done, when Dug had answered as many 'yes' or 'no' questions for Sara as he could, Gil told him it was time to rest.

"I have to go back with Sara and fill out my paperwork," Gil explained, making Dug's stomach drop. "But I'll come visit you tomorrow, I promise."

Gil wasn't- Dug supposed he was too young to be Dug's new owner, which made the servant wonder who exactly was his master now. Was it Sara?

The answer to his question came shortly, when a beautiful woman accompanied Sara into the room, her skin pale like snow and her hair jet black, like the night sky. Even Dug, with his limited experience of women, understood that she was likely a spectacle among, striking and terrifying in one swift blow. She was so eye-catching that Dug didn't immediately notice the dark skinned man that had followed her until they were standing side by side in front of his corner nest.

"Hello," the woman said, easily shifting onto her knees so they could be on the same level, Sara and the man doing the same from either side of her. "My name is Queen Snow White. I am the leader of Hanover, the kingdom you live in." She tilted her head towards the man. "This is Sultan Jafar. Sara has informed me that you do not speak or write. Do you know how to sign?"

Dug, who didn't know what that meant, shook his head regretfully, wishing he could appease the leader of his kingdom. He hadn't even known they were in Hanover.

She showed no sign of being upset at this, though, merely nodding. "Sultan Jafar is an expert in mental arts," she explained. "With your permission, he could cast a spell that would allow us to communicate. It would only be while we held hands, and it would last for a few minutes. Would you be comfortable with him casting this spell?"

Considering the fact that Dug already had more good things than he could have ever hoped for, he nodded, hoping that he wouldn't get cursed the way his masters had always threatened.

The queen smiled, a small thing, something that made Dug swallow hard. To distract from that, he held out his hand towards Sara, offering the other one to Gil. After a beat, both of them took it, Queen Snow and Sultan Jafar following in suit until they had a complete circle.

"Here we go," Sultan Jafar said, and then a shimmering energy seemed to fall over them, something that made Doug's heart beat fast.

Still, Gil seemed comfortable beside him, seemed certain, so Dug tried to be brave too, tried to believe that he might be alright.

"Thank you," Queen Snow said, smiling wide. "Now, what is your name?"

"Just think the answer," Sultan Jafar explained, giving him an encouraging look.

Dug swallowed hard, then focused. 'Dug'.

He was pretty sure it had started off as 'Dung', but his masters had dropped the 'n' at some point, and Dug had been happy for the upgrade, however slight it may seem.

"Doug?" the queen echoed, making Dug nod. "Do you know who those gentlemen were who were holding you hostage?"

Dug didn't know what that meant, but the answer was just the same anyway. 'My masters'.

The queen tensed for a moment, then pushed on. "Do you know their names?"

Dug paused, because he remembered fleeting terms they'd hurled at each other, but 'I never dared refer to them as anything else.'

"Okay," the queen said, not upset. "Did they hurt your throat, Doug?"

Dug shook his head. They'd injured there before, but it hadn't been recently. He was pretty sure she wanted recent wounds.

Sara cleared her throat. "Could you tell us why you don't speak?"

Dug nodded. 'Dogs don't talk.'

That made most of them freeze, Gil tensing up beside him.

"Is that why you avoid furniture?" Sara continued, holding his gaze carefully.

Dug nodded.

"Doug," Queen Snow began carefully. "Do you understand what was done to you?"

Dug cocked his head to the side, feeling his cheeks flush dark. It was obvious that he didn't. 'I was a dog'.

"You are not a dog," Queen Snow said, her voice soft but certain. "Those men were criminals, and they committed many crimes against you. They hurt you and starved you and treated you poorly, and none of those things should have ever happened. There are laws in place to protect you from those things, and because they broke those laws, those men are going to be locked up for a very long time."

Locked up like Dug had been? He wasn't sure if he pitied them or not. He was pretty sure he didn't.

'Who will be my master?' Dug asked before he could lose his nerve. 'Are you my master?'

He needed to know who he was supposed to listen to.

Queen Snow froze, her gaze going wide, and then she seemed to relax. "I'm not your master," she said. "But I will be your guardian. Do you know what the difference is, Doug?"

Dug felt his brows furrow in confusion before he shook his head.

"That means I'm in charge of protecting you," Queen Snow explained. "I'll be in charge of making sure you are fed and comfortable. Making sure you have clothes and that your wounds are treated and that you have a safe place to live. I will be your protector, your shield, and I will try to teach you the ways of the world." She looked at him knowingly, her gaze never leaving his. "I may be the queen for the entire kingdom, but for you, I am your guardian – is that acceptable?"

If she did the things she said she would, it was more than Dug could have ever hoped for. The problem was, it simply felt too good to be true.

He turned an imploring gaze onto Gil, who seemed to understand. "It's okay, Doug," he said, grinning wide. "She's not lying. Queen Snow raised my friend Evie. She's really nice, and she'll take good care of you." He squeezed Dug's hand, but it was gentle, not rough like his old masters would have been. "And besides, you've got me too. I'm your friend now and you can't get rid of me."

'Friend?' Dug asked, mostly on accident.

The closest he'd come to friendship were the mice he'd saved and released out into the woods.

"Yeah," Gil confirmed, grinning wide. "You and me, bud, we're friends."

It was all so much, Dug didn't know what to do with it.

So he started crying, but the others didn't seem to mind, didn't care that the spell was over, because in the next moment Queen Snow was holding him close, Gil staying next to his side. Dug had a guardian. Dug had a friend. He was worth something.

Now he just had to keep it.

-:-:-

Chapter Two – Envoy Sequel

-:-:-

Doug was training when Gil found him, the huntsman-trainee running through his axe forms because the castle workers wouldn't allow him to log anymore time in the archery range that day. He'd already tended to the mystical herb garden he and Queen Snow managed that morning, as well as turned in the paperwork required for his GED, his rune and potion studies, and attending to his and Gil's horses in the stables. They didn't get to ride them all that often, but when they did, it always made Gil smile to see his mare's coat glossy and well-cared for, her hair free of tangles.

It had been a rough four years, sharing Gil with Auradon while learning how to become a somewhat functioning person. Doug was almost certain he didn't entirely succeed, not that he allowed it to bother him much. His therapist – who he was still getting used to after all this time – thought it was perfectly fair for him to take time confronting certain things, and as Doug had already learned so much in the four years he'd been liberated from the drug runners' basement, in the four years since he'd become Queen Snow's ward, he chose not to feel guilty for this.

It had been a natural development for him to go into the huntsman trainee program. Seeing as Doug felt most comfortable outdoors, that he loved animals, that he found the solitude they often worked in and the long hours of training and conditioning to not be nearly as arduous as his old life had been, it was a perfect fit. It helped that Gil was a part of the program, that Huntsmen tended to sleep in pallets outdoors, which had been a neat way to get around Doug's aversion to furniture. Even to this day, most of Hanover's family events were picnics because Doug was still getting used to chairs and tables, though for Queen Snow, he did try.

Humanity and castle life was tricky. The building was huge and there were people everywhere, but it was worth it for patrols with Gil, for training sessions in the woods or practice time in Queen Snow's private magic room. There were hundreds of workers at the castle, but because of Doug's trauma, he'd only seen a handful of them Queen Snow and Sara had vetted for him. He hadn't even met Queen Snow's younger sister, Evie, despite hearing numerous tales of her.

Gil had gone to school with her at Auradon Prep for the first three years of Doug's new life, and then he'd committed himself to his Huntsmen training when they'd gone off to college – he and Doug officially getting slotted as each other's partners.

Huntsmen generally operated in pairs unless they were trainers, and then them and their partner each took on a trainee, like Gil had been. Sara's partner was a man named Erik, who was big and broad and had warm eyes like Gil. He and Sara had worked together to train Gil and Doug at the same time, mostly to give Doug a chance to socialize, and Doug couldn't be happier for it. Any chance to interact with his heroes was a gift, which was why he perked up when Gil strolled into his clearing, even if the blond was wearing an expression of dejection.

'What's wrong?' Doug signed, hooking his axe back onto his belt before Gil could be forced to stumble through the social niceties that seemed to be expected from humans for some reason. Like Doug couldn't tell Gil felt horrible.

The blond paused, seeming to fight with himself for half a moment as to whether it was polite to immediately launch into a recap of his woes or awkwardly muster through a painful hello and status update that he didn't have the mind to focus on anyway.

Eventually, he sighed before throwing himself down to rest against the base of the nearest tree. "I broke up with Harry," Gil said, the words immediately making Doug ache for him. "And the others too, but Harry was the breaking point."

'I'm sorry,' Doug signed, moving to settle in next to Gil. 'I know you cared for them a great deal.'

He knew things had been strained for the blond since his relationship had expanded to include six other people. Doug wasn't surprised that Gil could warrant the attention of so many. He was sunshine incarnate, and he deserved to bask as many people in the glow of his enthusiasm and happiness as possible. Doug had never thought he'd had a shot with Gil, though he loved him just the same, as much as someone like him was capable of such things.

"I did," Gil sniffed, his eyes beginning to redden with the telling premonition of tears. "I liked all of them a lot- it was just- it was too much, and with Harry still being upset at me for not going to college with them…" He broke off to duck his head, hiding it in the shelter of his hands, and Doug curled an easy arm around his shoulders, holding he blond close.

Gil didn't need to elaborate on his relationship troubles. As partners, Doug was subject to every trial and tribulation in Gil's life, and he offered what limited advice he could, his support forever present. It seemed that without the constant day-to-day contact between Harry and Gil – something the Port Royal prince had become accustomed to with the 15 years that had proceeded it – things had become a bit strained. While the rest of Gil's romantic partners were studying to become the best rulers they could be down in Auradon, Gil spent most of his time in the woods of Hanover, training and running patrols with Doug, battling the cursed beasts that remained a secret to all but Queen Snow and the Huntsmen alone.

Theirs was a noble calling, though it might not seem that way to those that didn't understand it. Prince Harrison hadn't, and for that, Gil had suffered, though Doug suspected there was more to it than that.

Gil pretty much confirmed it himself when he finally lifted his head. "It might be for the best, though," he sniffed, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "I didn't really want to help lead any kingdoms except for maybe Hanover, but Harry got mad any time I brought it up." He sniffed again. "He a-already knows I'm not good at sailing or managing trade and I like having a stable base of operations, but he'd always get all mad, like I was insulting him specifically because that was stuff he liked, when I just- you know, was sharing my opinion." He shook his head, scrubbing furiously at his cheeks. "I can't make the others choose between me and Harry anymore, and I feel bad for leaving Carlos as the only normal person, but not enough to give this up."

Gil leaned into him more fully, and Doug held onto the warm feeling that spread through his chest, something that comforted him down to his bones. As little as he spoke of it, Doug was almost certain he'd become a sort of point of contention between Gil and Harry. The royals that Gil had dated had wanted to meet Doug for a long time, but the junior huntsman had never felt stable enough for such a thing, the prospect usually sending him into fits of panic. Queen Snow and Sultan Jafar were one thing – Queen Snow was his guardian and Sultan Jafar was the one who had given Doug the enchanted necklace that allowed nearby individuals to understand his signing, assuming he had it turned to that setting. Usually, Doug had it fixed on a setting that only allowed those with special necklaces of their own to be able to understand him, because even after all these years, he was still terribly shy.

They were one thing – everyone else was another.

As one of the people Gil most spent time with outside of Auradon, Doug had likely been an intriguing mystery to Gil's partners, though hopefully now he would be a forgotten one, however unlikely that may be. If Gil had ever broken up with Doug, Doug knew he'd do anything to try and win the blond back, assuming that was within the realm of his capabilities. People like Gil were a gift, and not one Doug would ever be foolish enough to overlook.

He wondered if they were to expect a lot of random teleportations in from Auradon in the oncoming future, and decided promptly not to worry about it. There was nothing he could do about maybes, there was only the definites, as Sara would say.

'The Huntsmen are lucky to have you,' Doug signed when he thought Gil's eyes were clear. 'As am I.'

"Aw, Doug," Gil said, mustering a weak smile. "You always say the nicest things."

'I try to match up to your sunshine personality,' Doug signed, and while it was bold, it was worth it for the slight flush he earned him. 'Come, I think this is one of those instances where we're allowed to spoil our dinners with ice cream.'

Gil paused, as though startled, then immediately perked up. "That's a good idea," he said, and Doug wasn't sure if he actually believed that or was desperate for a distraction, but either way, he eagerly latched onto the prospect. "But you can finish your training, if you need to. I didn't mean to throw things off the rails."

'You could never do that, so no worries,' Doug signed before standing, using his advanced strength to tug the blond to his feet. Queen Snow wasn't sure where he'd gotten it from, though the common consensus was that Doug had come from some kind of mystical descent, allowing him to be stronger than the average person. He hadn't even known it until the Huntsmen weapon maker had started crafting special longbows just for him, bows that required a pull strength greater than the average individual. It was something that left Doug flustered, though ultimately glad that he could contribute to Hanover and Gil's defense more thoroughly by striking at targets that were farther than the range of the other Huntsmen's bows.

"Thanks, Doug," Gil murmured, his hand slipping into Doug's as they started their trek back towards the castle. "I'm glad I came to talk to you."

'Me too,' Doug signed, offering him a smile. 'Partners for life, remember?'

"Yeah." Doug likely imagined the way Gil's flush darkened in response to this, but still, it was an appealing prospect. "Partners for life."

Such was the Huntsmen way.

-:-:-

Queen Snow found them in the far corner of the kitchen, near the fireplace that always ran at full blaze for Doug alone. He'd lived his entire life previous to this stretching embers and what tender he was allowed to maintain his warmth, and while he could withstand cold temperatures longer than most people – at least, longer than Gil – it was still a comfort to know this place would always be available to warm his bones. The fireplace in his suite was much the same way – both set up with enchanted logs that would never burn out, some of the first rune combinations Doug had learned, so he would never be without such a comfort.

The kitchen – which was like a cozier version of the basement Doug had once lived in – was a frequent retreat of theirs. With its abundance of food and the chefs that seemed to enjoy spoiling them – always ready to provide hardy honey oat bars or jerky for when they were heading out or strudels if they were staying in – it had become one of the first places Doug had gotten used to staying inside, where he'd gotten used to being in a room with more than ten people without surrendering to a panic attack.

Gil didn't seem to mind eating their thrown-together sundaes by the fire, the same as he'd never minded, the two of them sitting upon the cushions specifically placed for their usage, their backs against the wall as their spoons scraped the bottom of their bowls.

"This was great," Gil forced himself to chirp, even though it was obvious he wasn't a hundred percent happy yet. "This is- I mean, if you ever needed an excuse for ice cream dinner, this was it."

"Ice cream which will hopefully not supplement your actual dinner," a gentle voice cut in, and both of them looked up to see Queen Snow gliding towards their retreat, a fond smile on her face. "Hello, gentlemen."

"Hello, your majesty," Gil said, grinning wide. "Can we be of service to you?"

"Actually, yes," the queen said, making Gil startle.

Usually junior huntsmen such as themselves were not requested for missions directly from the queen, though it seemed to happen to Doug and Gil quite frequently. It likely had to do with the fact that Doug was Queen Snow's ward, and while he'd feared how this favoritism might affect his and Gil's standing with the rest of the huntsmen trainees, none of them seemed to have anything but respect for them. Doug attributed this to the long hours he and Gil dedicated to training to justify any preferential treatment – Gil fearing his connection to his romantic partners and Doug fearing his guardian's standing might give them unfair advantages. So far, they'd worked to earn everything they'd been given, but there had been no murmurs of special missions lately, which left Doug off-balance.

"As you know, the young heirs of Enchancia celebrate the end of the academic year with Cotillion," Queen Snow said, and in his peripherals, Doug saw Gil nod. The blond had actually been to a handful of Cotillions, and while he'd described each of them to Doug, had shown him pictures, Doug himself had never been to anything like it. He'd yet to manage to courage to attend even a Hanoven ball. "King Adam and Queen Maleficent decided that this would be a suitable opportunity for the older royals to meet up as well. Prince Benjamin will be hosting a ball for the collage-level royals, but the rest of us have been invited for an event hosted by King Adam and Queen Maleficent." She offered them a grin tinged with the smallest hints of playfulness. "As you can imagine, I would hate to miss anything managed by that motley pair." Her smile pulled wide, making the skin near her eyes crinkle in a familiar show of happiness. "I would like you gentlemen to accompany me to Auradon City. I'll be taking Sara and Erik, of course, to act as my senior guards, but I believe this would be an excellent opportunity for both of you to get some more culture."

By both, she meant Doug, because Gil had lived three years in Auradon City. It was Doug that had yet to travel out of Hanover, who'd only just started exploring its capital city in the past year, always with Gil by his side.

Auradon City, on the other hand, was the capital of Enchancia, the capital of the entire united kingdoms, and each kingdom had representatives based there, each kingdom had an embassy and summer home and some amount of properties they traveled to for united council business. She wanted him to go where all the most important people in the world would be. Where Gil's former partners would be.

"Can you do this?" Queen Snow asked, her gaze on Doug because she knew who the holdup would be. "I would understand if you would prefer to stay in Hanover. There would be no penalty against you if that was your preference, I merely wanted to extend the invitation." Her smile shifted into something unreadable, something Gil always claimed was love, but that baffled Doug, because he wasn't the queen's flesh and blood, merely her tragic obligation. "You both deserve a fun summer adventure, after all."

Gil fidgeted restlessly beside Doug. "Would we be teleporting there?"

"Of course," the queen said, immediately making Gil's shoulders relax. "Have peace, Gilbert – as much as your fathers miss you, I would not put you through the trial of a sailing trip." She cocked her head to the side, making her dark locks shift against her shoulder. "We will be teleporting to Atlantica to meet up with the other northern rulers before we teleport to Auradon – perhaps there will be the opportunity to see your fathers there."

Considering the fact that it would logically make more sense to teleport from the Moors rather than Atlantica, that kingdom had been selected for the express purpose of allowing Gil the opportunity to see his fathers in person, so Doug wasn't surprised when Gil's smile shifted into something more genuine.

"That'd be cool," Gil said. "I mean- I'd um, be honored, your majesty- but uh…" He turned to face Doug, because they were partners, and partners made decisions together. "What do you think, Doug?"

Doug was, of course, understandably worried, but there was little he could deny either Gil or his queen. He'd known the moment this conversation had started what his answer would be.

So he set his bowl aside, mustering a small smile. 'Let's have a summer adventure'.

"Okay!" Gil cheered, turning back towards Queen Snow. "We're at your service, your majesty."

"I'm happy to hear it," the queen said, and after all this time, Doug was certain that she meant it.

-:-:-

Settling down in the Hanoven summer home was a distinct relief after a day of traveling, though Doug tried not to show as much, especially considering Gil's enthusiasm.

Atlantica had been just as beautiful as its pictures, and while Doug was somewhat intimidated by the massive expanse of water stretching out along the coast, he took some comfort in the merfolk he knew that inhabited it. King Triton made a habit to have constant underwater patrols running to help out any ailing vessels or sailors that had gone astray, so even if Doug fell into the water, he'd be okay. Gil had taught him to swim last year, though their pool was much smaller. The saltwater had been a welcome distinction from the ponds his old masters used to half drown him in for fun, and while Doug would likely be unable to swim in a lake anytime soon, he knew enough that he wouldn't be a liability.

Thankfully, Huntsmen did not generally swim, so he took that good fortune for what it was and focused his attentions on combat and survival training – both things Queen Snow urged him to learn so he would never again feel helpless.

He could admit he was grateful for this encouragement. In truth, he did not mind being hurt so much himself, but to think of a scenario where Gil was at risk and Doug couldn't help him- that had been a suitable motivation in itself. Doug may not being able to protect his own person, but he wouldn't be able to live with himself he couldn't protect others. It was yet another tenant of the Huntsmen ideology that he appreciated so much.

Atlantica was fun, for as brief a visit as it had been, Doug meeting Gil's family in person once more. As always, his Papa LeFou was extremely grateful for Doug's efforts to look after Gil during their training, the man quick to gift Gil and Doug with a basket of baked goods 'for the road', disregarding the fact that they would be teleporting to Auradon.

Gil's father was a massive man, but like Dr. Sweet (who had become Doug's primary physician – after months of physical therapy and surgeries and treatments, Doug would trust no other) and Gil, had a genuine kindness and gentility that made Doug at ease around him. As was the case with Gil's older twin brothers, who'd nicknamed themselves Junior and Trois, since they bore such a strong resemblance to their father.

"And it makes them easier to tell apart," Gil had whispered the first time Doug had been introduced to him, though it had taken him a few years to realize that was true.

Queen Maleficent teleported them to the Main Transportation Hub in Auradon City – something she and the other proficient magic users had designed that allowed for the royals of Auradon to instantaneously travel from their kingdoms to the capital. All the teleportation hubs were kept under the tightest security – accessed only by those with security clearances. There was another, even more guarded, teleportation pad that led directly to Auradon Castle, but thankfully their party bypassed that so they could retreat to their own summer properties – King Triton and the Turners heading to their beach houses while the rest of them took cars to the gated community that housed the large estates kept by the royal families of Enchancia.

The one King Adam had gifted to Queen Snow for Hanover was in a wooded area that felt strongly of home. Doug had only seen pictures of the place from his guardian, the queen occasionally asking his opinion on different things during the construction process, something that had started up not long after he'd come into her care.

"Let me show you to your suite," the queen said, which wasn't entirely appropriate in huntsmen trainee terms, but in guardian terms was slightly more allowable. The Queen was smiling, seeming secretly pleased with herself, and Doug learned why that was shortly, when she led them to a second-floor suite.

It was, without question, perfect, because it was a lot like his suite back at Hanover Castle.

He knew without asking that the fireplace had enchanted logs in the hearth, knew that the couches had been replaced with large bean bag chairs perfect for lounging. There were two bedrooms, but both seemed to feature round tents made with ornate, velvety cloth that hung from the ceiling, surrounding a circular mattress rife with pillows. There were glow lights dancing around on the ceiling of the tent, so Doug wouldn't be in darkness even if he chose to close it, and his bedroom had an abundance of windows, had a balcony with a trellis that led down to the gardens, and there was a low desk so he could sit on the floor and work on his rune studies. There was even a small room set aside for his potion experimentations, and also-

"Ta da!" Queen Snow cheered, grinning wide. "King Adam informed me that this was the very best piano available in Auradon City."

"It really is shiny," Gil agreed, tugging Doug over towards the impressive thing – polished wood and beautiful, unblemished keys.

A piano bench was one of the first pieces of furniture Doug had gotten accustomed to using, partly because it was so unlike anything he'd ever seen before, and partly because using one allowed him to access a piano, something that seemed to come to him naturally for some reason. He didn't know what it was about music that called to him, but he suspected with his difficulties speaking, being allowed to express himself in such a way was… it was comforting. It was indulgent and practically useless knowledge and skills to work at, and yet, Doug loved it, and Queen Snow had never been anything but supportive.

As it was, Doug struggled to fight back tears, though these were from happiness.

'Thank you,' he signed, thinking about the second-floor bedroom that was so far from the basement, thinking of the time she'd spent to set this up for him. 'I love it'.

"I'm glad," the queen said, her gaze sparkling wide. "Now come, I want to show you the rest of the property, and then perhaps an outdoor picnic is in order."

Queen Snow hosted a lot of small picnics, mostly because sitting on the ground for such things was an expected, normal occurrence, and she made too many allowances for Doug. Still, she wouldn't hear of it anytime he thought to bring up this matter, so instead he felt grateful for her consideration, for their indulgence. They might be in Auradon, but they'd brought Hanover with them, and that would always be a comfort.

-:-:-

The next day, Queen Snow insisted Doug and Gil 'explore the town', which was mostly an excuse for Gil to show Doug all the places he'd described over the past few years. Doug was understandably wary due to the individuals that could potentially be prowling the streets, but in the wake of Gil's earnest expression, it was easy to surrender, knowing that no matter what they did, Doug would feel a baseline of unease.

"This will be so great," Gil whispered, the two of them exiting the private car Queen Snow insisted was at their disposal.

She wanted to be sure of their safety despite the fact that it was they tasked with guarding her, but Doug had never come even slightly close to winning any arguments that were along those lines, so he didn't waste the energy of attempting one that day.

"Check it out, Doug – this is one of my favorite cafes," Gil explained, motioning to a modest shop with wide windows that was open and bright. "They have the best baked goods here, and you know what?" He leaned in closer to ensure their conversation wasn't overheard, despite the fact that Gil's whisper wasn't, in fact, all that subtle. "No seafood." He pulled back with a flush, bashfully rubbing at the back of his head. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, you know, just- the variety here is pretty great."

Seafood was a common staple of the diets of both Atlanticans and Port Roylan citizens. As such, Gil had been eating it the entirety of his life, but he'd already admitted early on in their training days that he preferred the staples they served in Hanover Castle. Savory, hearty meals, or things they hunted for themselves. They were both experts in scavenging and outdoor cooking at this point, and Gil seemed to revel in every creation he made, bursting with a low level of pride despite the fact that their baseline goal was always for it to just be edible. The fact that they could make it tasty as well was merely a boon.

"This place is known for their croissants," Gil continued, gesturing towards the shop. "I was thinking maybe we could get a box to take back to the others – or maybe just some for us to eat later. I promise you'll like them. They have so many kinds! Butter and chocolate and almond and-"

Gil cut off suddenly, his eyes going wide, turning back towards the sidewalk. Doug had heard someone approach and made note of it as a matter of instinct, the same way he had with the dozens of other people on this not-so busy street. With all his anxiety though, he should have kept a better eye out, because when he turned, who was present but Prince Harrison Turner himself.

On the bright side, he didn't look like he was ready to pick a fight, though that could easily change. According to Gil's descriptions, Harrison had become more volatile over the past few months.

Now though, he mostly looked tired, though he did manage a small grin for them.

"Gilly," he greeted, his tone neutral, not mocking. "And um- ye must be Doug?"

Doug nodded and then, after a moment's hesitation, switched his pendant to the setting that allowed all in the near vicinity to understand his signing. 'Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, your highness.'

"Likewise," Harrison said, and that was neutral too. "I was just taking a walk and I- well, I thought…" He gestured towards the café. "We must have had the same idea."

"I was showing Doug around," Gil said, his tone tight.

"Ye picked a good place to start," Harrison said, his smile a little shaky. "Could I um- buy ye something?" Harrison asked. "As a sort of 'welcome to Auradon' gift."

Gil's lips began to tug downwards in a frown. "It's just a friend-thing, right?"

Harrison's smile tightened, but it still held when he nodded. "Yeah, just a friend thing."

"Then um- sure," Gil said, shooting Doug a look to see if he was okay with that.

The former-servant simply offered him a nod, and then they were on their way.

The café smelled wonderful, not unlike the kitchens back at Hanover Castle, and Doug instantly felt at home, comforted by quiet murmur of conversation and the familiar scents.

"Like it?" Harrison asked, focusing on Doug for whatever reason. The trainee nodded, and he pushed on. "Gil was the one that found this place while we were in school. He always had a good eye for that kind of thing." He looked around, offering them the kindness of averting his attention. "Would bring us presents and coffee and stuff from here."

'Gil is very thoughtful,' Doug offered him as they moved closer to the display case. 'Very kind.'

"Ye got that right," Harrison said, and for whatever reason, that seemed to make him relax into something that seemed like less of a show. "I'm glad I finally got the chance to meet ye. Gil's been talking about ye all these years, but never showed us any videos or anything."

Doug felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. 'I'm still working on my shyness,' he signed, figuring it was closest to being true. 'It's… hard, and my translation spell doesn't work with electronics.'

"That's fair," Harry said, making Gil's shoulders relax. "Sorry, that wasn't a criticism, just- I haven't been getting a lot of sleep."

'My sympathies,' Doug signed, and he meant it. It had taken a long time before he'd started sleeping through the night, and even longer before his dreams had settled from anxiety-ridden terrors to something close to peaceful.

"From most, I wouldn't believe that," Harry murmured, rubbing at his eyes. "But from ye, it feels genuine."

They reached the front of the line before either Gil or Doug could reply, and Gil took over things then, making some efforts to reclaim control of what was going on. He ended up ordering two boxes and having them delivered straight to the summer house, and then Harry ordered something for them to eat at that moment, along with sugary coffee drinks Sara usually made fun of that Erik secretly adored.

"Come on," Gil said when the prince had paid, seeming restless, and it was a relief to be led back out into the sunshine even though the shop hadn't been full, a relief to be led down to a park where they could eat their prizes.

'Thank you,' Doug signed when they settled into a secluded nook, a slight reprieve that wasn't quite like the forests of Hanover but close enough to it for him to feel relaxed.

"No problem, Doug," Gil chirped, smiling brightly before he bit into his snack.

Doug followed in suit, as did Harrison, though he was admittedly slower, as though he didn't have much of an appetite.

Doug would blame him were this the case. He wouldn't find himself that hungry if Gil had willingly cut himself from Doug's life.

"So," Harry spoke up after a few minutes of silence. "Evie's hosting a little get together-"

"Harry," Gil sighed, his shoulders slumping in dejection, like he'd been waiting for this and yet hoped it wouldn't happen.

"Well, we can still be friends, can't we?" Harry pressed, something desperate in his tone that Gil likely didn't catch. "Ye shouldn't- just because I'm an asshole doesn't mean ye should be without them too."

"I just think I need more time," Gil sighed. "I haven't been broken up with you guys for that long."

"And that's the thing," Harry began, making Gil's tension increase. "I understand ye breaking up with me. I wasn't being as supportive as I should have been, I see that now, but there's no reason ye have to cut ties with the others."

"There's every reason, Harry," Gil said, his eyes beginning to redden with a familiar heat that made Doug's chest ache for him. "You know it has to be equal. That kind of dynamic in a poly relationship – it wouldn't work, it wouldn't be fair."

"So what?" Harry pressed, his croissant seemingly forgotten. "Ye gave up seven other people because of me? I'm that bad?"

"No," Gil sighed, looking the prince over with a dejected look on his face. "You're not that bad, but this isn't- it's not working. I like being a huntsman, and my duty's to Hanover, not Port Royal." He shook his head. "It doesn't work, and that's not our fault-"

"It is mine," Harry hissed, tears beginning to build in his eyes. "Gilly, please. Come back and talk to Uma. Ye know she's better at balancing us than I could ever hope to be. Come back and talk to the others-"

"No," Gil said, and Doug realized with a jolt that he was crying too. "I can't do that, Harry, just- let me go."

He was standing before he'd even finished the statement, and Doug followed on reflex, always one to follow his partner's cues.

"I hope you have a good summer," Gil continued, his voice shaky before he jerked it in a familiar bid for retreat. "I'll um- I'll see you eventually," he said, and then he was moving, Doug on his heels, both of them choosing to ignore the rough cry that broke out behind them.

So. That probably wasn't the exploration Queen Snow had been hoping for.

-:-:-

"He always does this," Gil complained when they retreated back to Doug's suite, both of them stopping to reheat their treats and coffee because Gil had insisted. They were lounging in front of the enchanted fire now, Gil's shoulder brushing up against Doug's, the blond likely trying to ground himself. "He gets all mad and then he'll get super sad but that won't stop him from getting mad again and I can't- I can't do that anymore."

'I'm sorry,' Doug signed, keeping his food on the hearth so his hands could be free between tastes. 'He loves you very much, Gil, I think he just needs more time to grow.'

Gil sighed. "Evie said something like that once," he admitted. "It's just hard when he's mean to me in the moment. I know the pressure of his position makes him cranky, but he has two sisters. Harriet's the one actually inheriting the Port Roylan throne, so it's not like he's the crown prince, not like the others. I don't know why he's getting all twitchy, and anytime I tried to ask him about it, he'd get all mad again!" Gil leaned a little bit more into Doug's side. "He acts like it was just one thing that made me break up with him, but it was a lot of stuff that built up over time, and I know if I go back and talk to the others, they'll talk me into staying, and I just- I can't do that."

He seemed resolute on that point, shaking his head for good measure, and it almost seemed like he was following orders, like he had a directive he wouldn't shake from no matter what.

"But it's okay!" Gil continued on brightly, forcing himself into a more chipper attitude for Doug's benefit, even if the brunette didn't care if he needed to hurt some more, it would be understandable, considering the circumstances. "I may have lost them, but I'll always have you – right, Doug?"

'Always,' Doug confirmed, offering Gil a light smile.

"Perfect," Gil said, mostly to himself. "Then we're set for life."

It was a comforting prospect, one that felt entirely too good to be true, but still, Doug held onto it, knowing when the future came, that he'd need it.

-:-:-

"We have been invited to dinner at Auradon Castle," Queen Snow informed them when Doug and Gil trained in from an afternoon of training, the two of them going through their weapons' forms and hand to hand combat training before progressing to target practice.

As such, neither one of them was particularly presentable when the queen approached them, both sweaty and disheveled, but by this point they had learned not to be embarrassed by such things, as Queen Snow never seemed to mind.

"Sara and Erik will be present as my guards," the queen continued. "But you are my guests, and will be seated with us at dinner."

"Queen Snow," Gil sighed, making Doug's guardian smile wider. "We're the junior huntsmen. You shouldn't show us favoritism."

"As junior huntsmen, it is entirely under my purview as to how you should be treated," the queen offered melodiously. "Besides, you are not attending as huntsmen, but rather as my ward and close family friend. An invitation of those is not favoritism, but friendship. Now, run along and get cleaned up. Your outfits are waiting in your suite."

'Yes, your majesty,' Doug signed, Gil murmuring along beside him before both of them shifted into frazzled bows and retreated, the queen's quiet chuckles echoing behind them. One way or another, Doug's guardian seemed intent on getting him to socialize – and on one hand, Doug was grateful, because he knew intellectually that he needed that outside push in order to get moving, but on the other…

Well, his aversion to high-ranking individuals seemed like an ingrained thing, despite the fact that none of his old masters had been of noble descent. He didn't really know what the issue was there, but he ignored it, labeling it as unreasonable.

He couldn't make Queen Snow look bad, not after all she'd done.

The dinner would be fine.

-:-:-

"You don't have to come if you're not ready," Queen Snow said when they were three fourths of the way to the castle, Doug's guardian catching him fidget for what may have been the fifteenth time despite his usual propensity towards stillness – something that had been a boon in terms of making himself a smaller target for most of his life. "I can just as easily say that you're feeling under the weather and the driver can take you right back to the summer house." She reached over to him, curling her hand into his own, likely feeling the way his fingers trembled. "I never want to push you too much, dear, please know that." She turned her attention to Gil. "I could make your excuses as well, Gilbert, if you're not ready for this yet."

"No, I can- I can do this," Gil said, nodding to himself as though to emphasize this. "I mean, there will be plenty of other people there, it will be fine."

The focus wouldn't entirely be on him and his recent breakup with Ben, he meant, and Doug knew Gil would never ask it of him, but he had a feeling that the blond would feel more comfortable with his support. It was clear Gil didn't entirely wish to come to this dinner, but his good manners obligated him to attend, and while Doug didn't feel much better…

He couldn't stay locked in the basement forever. Eventually, he had to move on with his life. He may as well back up his partner while he did so. There was no cause more noble than that.

'I will come,' Doug signed with one hand, making the queen offer him a small smile.

"If you change your mind at any moment, I will invent an emergency and we will leave," the queen promised. She took her duties as his guardian seriously, but she always had, and for that, Doug was truly lucky. Most of his life was already a testament to the fact that this was not always a guarantee. "That goes for either of you."

"T-Thanks, your majesty," Gil said, reaching up to rub the back of his head with a bashful flush. "We really appreciate it."

"No thanks are necessary for this, gentlemen," Queen Snow hummed. "You're just as much in my care as I am yours."

For whatever reason, she seemed to truly mean that.

---

-:-

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And then there was a dinner where Harry was super jealous and everyone learned about how cool Doug was, the end.

And that was all she wrote ;)