Author's Note: As this is a humanized Bambi story, I felt the need to alter the names of a few characters. Bambi and Faline are still Bambi and Faline, but it ends with them. The changes are here for your reference: Friend Owl = Oswald. Thumper = Theodore. Flower = Florean. The Great Prince = King Barron. Bambi's mother = Queen Vera. Enjoy!
Fifteen-year-old Prince Bambi was feeling unusually depressed. This was especially unusual considering it was such a clear, beautiful day. As he sat at his writing desk, a quill in his hand and a roll of parchment on his desktop, he stared longingly out the window and down at the castle courtyard, reluctantly reminding himself that Faline would not be there waiting for him to meet her. Not that she had actually said she would not be there, but she might as well have. She had not said a word to him when he had seen her earlier that morning. He had seen her in passing and hoped he could spare a few minutes to talk to her about the argument they had had the day before, and hopefully arrange a meeting in their favorite romantic spot later that day. To his dismay however, nothing seemed to have changed since yesterday. Faline had not stopped when he had approached her. On the contrary, she had quickened her pace and rushed past him without even glancing at him. Slightly shocked, Bambi had called her name hoping she would stop or at least turn around. But she did not stop. She had left him alone to stare after her, her long, light brown, softly curled hair rippling slightly as she walked. This equally beautiful and sad image had driven all other thoughts from his mind and had remained with him ever since. This was especially bad considering at that moment, he was in the middle of an essential history examination.
"Prince Bambi?"
Bambi heard the voice say his name, but was so lost in thought about Faline that he was not sure if it was real or in his head.
"Ahem, Prince Bambi?"
The voice repeating itself, in an impatient and slightly louder tone, made him realize it was not just in his head.
"What?" he said, hastily looking up from the window.
His private tutor Oswald was glaring down at him with his large, yellow eyes. Oswald was a paunchy, elderly man and was without question one of the wisest people Bambi had ever known, aside from his father of course. Bambi genuinely liked Oswald, who for the most part was pleasant and well meaning, but when his patience was being tried, he was more than willing to let you know. This seemed to be one of those times.
"I asked you if you were finished answering question number seventeen," said Oswald, and he repeated the question that Bambi had barely heard the first time. "In what year did King Percival become known as Percival the Pitiful and what actions had he committed that earned him this title?"
Still only half listening, Bambi looked down at his parchment and briefly glanced at the answer he had absentmindedly written.
"Uh, yeah yeah," he answered with a smile. "I'm done with question seventeen. You can go on."
His tone had not been entirely convincing and Oswald, who raised an eyebrow, seemed to know this. They stared at each other for a few seconds before Oswald decided to proceed with the exam.
"Very well," he said, still not looking convinced. "Question number eighteen: Explain in detail and provide examples of how King Thaddeus…"
At that point, Bambi stopped listening and the image of Faline's cascading curls flooded his mind once again. When he heard Oswald had stopped speaking, he dipped his quill and idly began to write. He paid little attention to what he was writing and frankly neither knew nor cared if what he was writing was the correct answer. As the test went on, he found himself thinking more and more of Faline. And the more he thought of her, the more realistic these thoughts seemed to become. After question eighteen, he thought of her soft, flawless skin. On question twenty-four, a vivid image of her light blue eyes entered his mind. On question thirty, the last one of the test, he swore he could actually hear the harmonious sound of her airy laughter. By the time Oswald had graded his completed test and pronounced himself disappointed, Bambi questioned if she would ever speak to him again. This, of course, was no longer the only thing worrying him.
Later that afternoon, Bambi was lying on his back in the shade of a familiar tree in the castle courtyard. As he had expected, Faline had not been waiting for him anywhere. He was glad to at least be in the company of his two best friends, Theodore and Florean. Theodore, who was fair-haired and had rather large ears and front teeth, was the son of the royal chef. He spent most of his days cooking in the kitchens with his parents and four younger sisters. He was a bit shorter than Bambi but was tougher than he looked. Loud, easygoing, and always keen to take risks, he was considered the most outgoing of the three friends. Florean, who had black hair and was even shorter than Theodore, was quite another story. He was the son of one of the castle's gardeners. He was often seen raking leaves or planting flowers with his father. He was very shy and seemed to prefer planting to socializing, unless it was with his two best friends.
"You failed?" Theodore and Florean chorused, after Bambi had told them the results of his exam.
"Yep," Bambi sighed, knowing he would soon have to deliver this news to someone far less forgiving.
Theodore whistled. "Yikes, that's rough," he said.
"Tell me about it," Bambi replied nervously, staring up into the leafy branches overhead.
Florean shook his head slowly. "I never thought I'd see this happen. I mean, you've never failed an exam in your life."
Even though the situation hardly called for it, Bambi almost felt like laughing. "You know, Florean? If your voice was deeper, louder, and more furious, I'd swear it was my dad saying that." Whatever willingness he had to laugh suddenly vanished.
Bambi did not like to think about what his father would say when he told him about the examination. In all the time Bambi had known his father, which technically had been the last eight years, he had known him to be a very strict, no-nonsense man and the last person one ever wanted to approach with bad news.
Bambi had spent his first seven years under the care of his mother, Queen Vera. Those were without a doubt the best seven years of his life. Those were the days when he had been free to play, laugh, and enjoy a carefree life. The days before he had duties, studies, and responsibilities. The days before he understood the meaning of the phrase "little prince", even though people called him that everywhere he went. And his mother… Oh his dear mother. In his young mind, there had never been a greater person ever to walk the earth. She had loved him more than anyone else in the world and the feeling was mutual. This, he had felt, was why she was the only person who never called him "little prince". It had even taken Theodore and Florean several days to call him by his name. But to his beloved mother, he had always been "my little Bambi".
It was not until Bambi was about five years old that he finally learned the meaning of "little prince". That had been the first day he had, more or less, officially met his father. Before that day, he had never given much thought to who his father was or if he even had one. He had had a pretty good idea of what exactly a father was, as he had heard Theodore and Florean speak of theirs frequently. But to Bambi, his mother was all he had needed so the fact that he did not seem to have a father never really bothered him. He'd never known that in fact, his father had always lived under the same roof as him and his mother. That is, until the day his mother had taken him out into the village for the first time. He remembered that day vividly. He'd just turned five and his mother had decided he was ready to see the rest of the kingdom. He remembered the way his jaw had dropped in reaction to how the village seemed to go on for miles. Everywhere he looked, he saw houses, shops, people, and other children: more than he had ever seen in his short life. And everywhere he looked, everyone stared at him and called him "Little Prince". He had become used to this of course, but the village people seemed far more impressed by his presence than anyone in the palace ever had.
But the biggest jaw-dropper of all came in the early afternoon. Bambi and his mother had been walking down the cobblestone street when, as though it had been rehearsed, all the surrounding chatter and gossip suddenly stopped and the villagers began to clear the street and move to the side. Before Bambi could ask his mother what was going on, she had taken him by the hand and was leading him off the street. She told him to stand still and stay quiet. He wanted to ask why but seconds later he got his answer. Everyone stared with awe in his or her eyes as a graceful, chestnut colored stallion came galloping slowly down the cobblestone street. As magnificent as the horse was however, it was nothing compared to the man riding it. The majestic stranger was unlike anyone Bambi had ever seen. He was the epitome of physical perfection. Tall, strong, and broad shouldered with sleek brown hair, brown eyes, a trimmed beard, and handsome features. It was no wonder everyone was staring at him, though he did not seem to notice them. His brown eyes were staring ahead of him, not moving an inch to glance at anyone else, at least until he approached Bambi and his mother. The chestnut horse stopped directly in front of them and, to Bambi's amazement, the stranger turned his head in his direction and looked down at him. Assuming that this man was friendly, Bambi smiled widely at him. The stranger did not return this gesture. He merely stared back at Bambi, his expression both noble and indifferent. Bambi's smile vanished. The stranger then glanced at Bambi's mother, his expression softening only slightly, and he went on his way. Bambi noticed that he seemed to be heading towards the castle. As soon as he was out of eyeshot, the villagers carried on with their shopping and socializing.
Bambi asked his mother who the handsome stranger on the horse had been. She answered, "He's your father, King Barron." Bambi, still so young, didn't know what to say in response except, "Wow."
Over the next couple of years, Bambi learned more about his father through his mother. He would often ask her questions like, "If he lives with us, how come I never see him?" He knew Theodore and Florean's fathers lived with them and they saw each other all the time. His mother explained to him that King Barron was a dutiful man who had many responsibilities to attend to. After all, he had an entire kingdom to run and had to see to it that every resident of that kingdom was well cared for. Another time, Bambi actually did see King Barron in the castle, from a distance. He had been deep in conversation with a member of the palace staff and had not even noticed Bambi. Afterwards, Bambi asked his mother if he would ever be able to "know" his father. His mother chuckled and told him he would when he was a little older. She did not know it at the time and nor did Bambi, but the time he began to see more of the king would come sooner than they both thought.
One snowy day during Bambi's seventh winter, Queen Vera had taken him on another outing to the village. It was always a real treat. Bambi had discovered that winter was a great time to see the village. Despite the cold, everything just seemed so festive and colorful, and the children in particular enjoyed to be outdoors more than usual. But not long into the visit to the village, the temperature suddenly dropped and the snow began to fall heavier than before. Sensing the urgency of the situation, Queen Vera took Bambi firmly by the hand and told him they had to hurry home. But there was so much ground to cover and the weather was worsening by the minute. They had to run. And run they did. But it was not good enough. The snow began falling heavier and thicker than ever and a fierce wind accompanied it. A blizzard had started. Bambi and his mother tried to run, but they could barely see through the dense snow. Everything after that happened so fast that Bambi never caught a full glimpse of it. All he could remember was shutting his eyes, the ground suddenly becoming hard and slippery, a muffled scream coming from his left, losing his grip on his mother's hand, falling, sliding on what he realized was ice, and finally being stopped by a large pile of snow on the ground. Whether minutes or hours passed after that, Bambi couldn't tell. But when the blizzard finally came to a subtle stop, he got to his feet, looked around, and saw that his mother, or anyone for that matter, was nowhere to be seen.
Bambi had spent the next several hours running through the icy village calling for his mother. But she never answered his calls and was nowhere to be seen. Everyone else in the village had taken shelter from the weather in their houses or shops. Bambi was soon getting worried and lonely. It was almost nightfall by the time someone finally answered his calls. By which time, it was snowing again and he was cold, frightened, and reduced to tears. He called out one final time for his mother, but it was not his mother who answered. He froze in his tracks and gasped when he saw none other than King Barron looking down at him, his chestnut horse standing a few paces behind him.
"Your mother can't be with you anymore," the mighty king had said to him.
Bambi understood but wished he didn't. His mother had perished, no doubt having slipped and fallen on the ice that had been more forgiving to Bambi. He lowered his head for a moment and then looked back up at the king with a tear falling down his cheek.
"Come, my son," said King Barron.
He removed his cloak and wrapped Bambi in it to keep him warm. He then picked his son up, helped him onto his horse, and they set off for home. It wasn't a very long ride, but it seemed endless to Bambi. He was relatively warm, but it was unsettling to be riding home on a strange horse in the presence of a stranger instead of walking hand-in-hand with his mother. When they finally arrived at the castle, Bambi's eyes were sore from crying and exhaustion. King Barron carried him to his room and put him to bed. And from that moment on, Bambi's life would never be the same.
Starting the very next day, Bambi's life had consisted of little more than lessons, studying, examinations, and miscellaneous royal duties, all of which became more challenging as he grew older. Even now, at fifteen, he still had much to learn about the ways of a royal life. That's not to say he had learned nothing. He was devoted to his studies and earned excellent results on his examinations (with the exception of today's). And he certainly looked the part of a prince. He was a fairly strong and good-looking youth, though he still had much growing to do before his looks rivaled those of his father. He had no beard. His untidy brown hair was yet to lie sleek and flat as his father's always had. He was not yet as tall or well muscled as his father. Even so, his features did turn a few heads. He was especially handsome to Faline, whom he had met a couple of years previously and had been in a relationship with for almost a year now.
Today, of course, it did not seem that way.
"Florean's got a point, you know," Theodore said to Bambi. "You usually do a great job on your exams. What made this one so different?"
Bambi sat up and searched his mind for the best words to explain what had happened between him and Faline. He opened his mouth to speak when… There she was, several feet away, walking across the courtyard. She seemed to know Bambi was there as she was intentionally avoiding his eye and was walking at the same fast pace as she had when he had tried to confront her that morning. Theodore and Florean, both looking curious, turned their heads in her direction to see what their friend was staring at. Faline vanished from sight almost immediately, but Theodore and Florean had gotten a decent enough glimpse of her to understand.
"Oh, I get it," said Theodore, nodding and looking sympathetic. "Girl troubles."
Bambi nodded gloomily, his eyes still on the spot where Faline had disappeared.
"Really, Bambi? You and Faline?" said Florean, sounding amazed. "But how? I always thought you were perfect for each other."
Theodore put a hand on Bambi's shoulder. "What happened, buddy?"
Bambi did not want to relive the painful experience, but he could never keep anything from Theodore and Florean.
"We'd made plans to meet up yesterday at two o'clock," Bambi explained. "But I showed up twenty minutes late and she was furious with me. She said it was the third time in a row that I've been late to meet her and… everything went downhill from there."
"Why were you late?" said Florean.
Bambi looked down at his feet. "The same reason I was late every other time. I've been busier than ever with my studies and royal duties, especially when an exam comes up. I spend so much time reading and studying that I just lose track of time. But it's not like I have much of a choice. My dad always says a prince must be knowledgeable and responsible."
"Did you tell her that?" asked Theodore.
Bambi nodded. "Of course I did."
"And?" said Theodore.
Bambi shook his head. "She just said that my studies are getting in the way of our relationship and that I need to try to manage my time more wisely. I told her I've been doing everything in my power to get away from my work long enough to be with her. She said it wasn't enough, and that we shouldn't be seeing each other if I spend more time studying than with her and just… walked away."
He finished his explanation feeling as though his stomach had just done a back flip. There was a long, awkward silence between the three of them for a while. Several minutes, though it felt like hours, passed before Theodore spoke.
"Well, I'm really sorry, Bambi. I would've thought you'd much sooner fail an exam than… well…"
Bambi knew he was politely trying to say, "break up with Faline," and cut Theodore off before he could find the right words.
"It's fine, you don't need to say it," said Bambi, holding up a hand to silence Theodore. "But I know what you mean. I never thought I'd see it happen either. I always felt like we were made for each other, you know?"
Theodore and Florean nodded.
"Even my dad knows we were made for each other," said Bambi, almost laughing again. "But then again, she is the daughter of a nobleman. There's no one better fit for a prince, huh?"
He half expected Theodore and Florean to laugh, but neither of them did.
"Uh, speaking of your dad," said Florean tentatively, "have you given any thought to how you're going to tell him about your exam?"
Bambi let out a long, loud breath and put a hand to his forehead. "No," he admitted in a defeated sort of voice. "But Oswald wasn't too pleased with me. So why should my dad be any different?"
He looked at Theodore, who was looking ahead of him with an expression that looked strangely worried.
"Well, you might want to think of something fast," he said in a slightly shaking voice.
"Why?" asked Bambi, guessing and fearing the answer.
Theodore didn't need to reply.
"Bambi!" called a deep, familiar voice from nearby.
Bambi flinched and nervously turned his head in the direction of Theodore's gaze. There was King Barron, halfway across the courtyard and marching in a dignified manner towards them. He was plainly dressed in a long riding cloak over a simple, pale blue shirt, dark blue pants and black boots. He'd clearly just returned from his afternoon ride. But his simple attire did not conceal his stern expression or his stiff posture, both of which Bambi had long since associated with trouble.
"That's why," said Theodore quietly, answering Bambi's question rather late.
The three boys leapt to their feet as the king approached them. Bambi straightened his posture to the point of perfection, trying at least to prevent being told how a prince would or wouldn't stand.
"Hi, Dad," he said in a trembling voice that his princely posture could not conceal.
"Good afternoon, Your Majesty," said Theodore and Florean, bowing their heads.
"Good afternoon, boys," said King Barron as he reached them. His eyes were on Bambi but he was clearly addressing the other two more than him. "Could you two give us some privacy please?"
"Yes, Sir," said Theodore and Florean together, bowing their heads again. They both gave Bambi half nervous, half encouraging smiles and left the king and prince alone. Looking past his father, Bambi saw them walk halfway across the courtyard and then stop and pretend to talk amongst themselves.
Bambi then focused his attention onto his father. His nerves suddenly increased when he noticed just how short he felt compared to the king. Though he was standing as tall as he possibly could, with his back erect, shoulders squared, and chest puffed out, the top of his untidy head barely reached his father's eye level.
"Now Bambi, there's something we need to discuss," said King Barron seriously.
"I have a feeling I know what this is about…" Bambi started.
"It is," King Barron interrupted. "Oswald's just been to see me. In fact, he was at the castle gates waiting for me. And he informed me of your disastrous performance on today's history examination."
Bambi gave a very nervous chuckle. "Yeah, that's what I was expecting."
His father glared at him. "Bambi, this is no laughing matter. It is absolutely essential that a young man of your rank be knowledgeable in all fields of study. I don't know how many times I've told you that."
Bambi's nervous smile faded. "I know," he said, sounding more sincere. "I'm sorry, Dad."
"How on earth do you explain this?" the king asked, sounding all the more impatient. "Oswald tells me you've been doing very well in your lessons. What possible excuse could you have for failing?"
"Uh…"
It had been one thing to explain his situation with Faline to his friends. It was quite another thing to explain it to his father. He didn't want to relive the events of yesterday a second time in any case. How on earth would the strict, perfect, well-educated King Barron understand that his son had failed an exam as a result of a broken heart? It was times like this that Bambi privately wished his father wasn't a king. Maybe if this were the case, he, Bambi, could have easily approached his father seeking advice about how to mend a damaged relationship. But his father was a king by and by. He displayed dignity and pride at all times. What help could he possibly be to his heartbroken teenaged son? Could young love even be relevant to him compared to books and examinations?
"Uh…" Bambi repeated, nervously looking down at the ground.
"Bambi, a prince does not stammer," said King Barron crossly. "Nor does he hang his head. Meet my eyes and speak up."
And Bambi did, reluctantly. He looked into his father's eyes and said the only thing he could think of on such short notice.
"It's personal."
"That's not good enough," the king replied in a testy voice.
"I'm sorry, Dad," said Bambi, now feeling more defeated than ever. "It's all I've got."
His father raised an eyebrow and stared at him sternly for what must have been an entire minute, as though thinking this could intimidate Bambi into providing a sufficient explanation. If this was the case, he was ultimately let down.
"Very well then," he said, not sounding entirely convinced. "I'll overlook this one examination. But to ensure it doesn't happen again, you will spend one hour every afternoon reading aloud under my supervision, beginning today."
Bambi couldn't believe his ears. More study time to interfere with his time with Faline, assuming she would ever speak to him again? Hadn't his endless study hours been the reason he and Faline had argued in the first place?
"But…"
King Barron held up a hand, which Bambi knew well by now meant, "No objections".
Bambi sighed sadly. "Yes, Sir."
"Good," said his father. "I'll expect you in the parlor in fifteen minutes. Bring whatever books you require."
And on that note, he turned to leave. Bambi watched him as he crossed the courtyard, passed Theodore and Florean, opened a door and disappeared through it. Moments later, Theodore and Florean were back at Bambi's side.
"So, how'd it go?" asked Theodore, trying to sound enthusiastic.
Bambi gave him a look that said, "How do you think it went?"
Theodore's smile faded. "That bad, huh?"
"He already knew, Oswald told him everything," Bambi confessed. "Now I have to spend an hour a day reading to him out loud."
Florean shuddered. "I feel for you. I'd hate having to do that," he said in a comprehending voice.
"Well I guess it could be worse," said Theodore, once again trying to sound optimistic. "At least you'll be less likely to fail your next exam."
Bambi glared at him. "You know I didn't fail that exam because I didn't study. If Faline and I hadn't argued yesterday, I would've aced the exam."
The fake smile left Theodore's face.
"Did you tell that to your dad?" Florean asked Bambi curiously.
Bambi scoffed. "Of course not," he replied, as though he had just been asked the most obvious question in the world.
"Why not?" Theodore and Florean asked together.
Bambi looked at them looking puzzled. "Well, how could I?" he said slowly. "What good would it do? He'd just tell me something like, 'A prince does not let a broken heart interfere with his work'."
Theodore and Florean looked at each other, then back at him.
"Do you know that for sure?" Theodore asked.
What kind of question was that? "Of course I do. That's all I ever hear from him: what a prince does or doesn't do. We mostly only see each other at meals, and even then all we talk about are my royal duties."
"I don't think that's true," said Florean rather boldly. "You must've told him that you and Faline are a couple. You told us he thinks you two were made for each other, didn't you?"
Bambi did not need to think a long about what Florean was asking. He had, in fact, just told them this a few minutes ago.
"Okay, yeah, he knows about that," Bambi admitted. "I told him about it last year, when Faline and I started seeing each other."
"Then why wouldn't he understand if you told him about your argument?" asked Florean, shrugging slightly.
Bambi did not say a word.
Florean smiled. "You shouldn't underestimate him, Bambi," he said. "He is your father after all."
"Exactly," said Theodore, nodding vigorously. "Just talk to him about it," he said to Bambi. "You really won't know how he'll react until you tell him. And anyway, it's just like my dad told me this morning." He cleared his throat and imitated his father's slightly deeper voice. "'Never keep your feelings bottled up. Otherwise, they'll burst out of you in an ugly explosion'."
Leave it to Theodore's father to give his son daily moral support. Still, Bambi had to admit there was some sense in what he'd just heard. He certainly didn't want to keep his feelings for Faline bottled up. Still, part of him remained stubbornly convinced that his father would simply tell him he was handling the situation in an un-princely manner. On the other hand, Florean did have a point. King Barron knew Bambi and Faline had genuine feelings for each other, and he did seem to support this entirely. Bambi struggled inwardly for several seconds, and then remembered that he had limited time to gather his books and meet his father in the parlor.
"Uh, I have to go," he said, starting to walk away.
Before he had taken too many steps, Theodore reached out a hand and caught him on the shoulder. They faced each other for a moment before Theodore said, "Good luck, Bambi."
Bambi thanked him and went on his way.
Half an hour later, Bambi was doing everything in his power to keep his mind on what he was reciting from his history book. It was not an easy task. Images of Faline were once again flashing across his mind. Granted, he would rather have anything on his mind than what he was currently reading: a fairly disturbing chapter on some war that had taken place over a century ago. Yet, at exactly the same time, Faline was the last thing he wanted on his mind when his father was present.
Bambi had been reading aloud for a mere quarter of an hour and already had displeased his father by stumbling on several words that he would normally have no trouble pronouncing. But there was little he could do to help it. His mind was already burdened with Faline, and his father slowly pacing the room as though waiting for him to stumble on another word did not make matters any better. King Barron had forsaken his riding cloak, though he was still plainly attired and his sleeves were rolled up, and he was taking occasional sips from a china teacup (he liked a good cup of tea after his afternoon ride). Even so, he was still as rigid and stern as ever. Maybe even more so, as Bambi's reading was no doubt beginning to infuriate him.
"'After mounting his noble steed, the Captain of the Guard turned to address his remaining troops. He faced his army knowing they were now outnumbered by ten to one. His stomach dropped and his face began to flood with… with…'"
Once again, Bambi could hear Faline's beautiful laugh as clearly as though she was standing right beside him. He glanced at the next word, completely distracted by the vivid thought of Faline, and blurted out what he thought he saw before he could make full sense of it.
"'… perception.'"
No, that wasn't right.
As though he had expected this, his father turned to face him, took the book from him, and located the misread word without needing to ask where it was.
"Perspiration, Bambi," he corrected.
"Sorry," said Bambi, for what felt like the hundredth time. Although he'd meant it every time, perhaps there was no point in saying it anymore.
"That's the eleventh word you've misread," said King Barron sternly. "Really Bambi, what's gotten into you?"
Upon hearing this question, the answer flashed before Bambi's eyes so vividly that it hurt. It wasn't just a glimpse of one of Faline's fair features this time. He could see and hear everything he loved about her all at once. The way her hair flowed naturally on a breezy day. The way her eyes shone like blue diamonds every time he looked into them. The way she laughed every time he said or did something stupid out of nerves. The way his heart beat like crazy every time he felt her leaning on his shoulder. At that moment, it all became more than he could bear.
"Let's start over, and this time in a professional manner," said his father, turning back several pages of the book.
While Barron's attention was on the book, Bambi covered his eyes with his hand, slightly ashamed that he was about to unveil his feelings in front of his father. As he shut his eyes, the image of Faline became more vivid than ever. He could feel tears beginning to form in his eyes.
"Begin," he heard his father say, and he knew he had just looked up from the book and was now holding it out to him.
But Bambi did not look up, nor did he take the book from Barron. He could hold it back no longer. No longer caring what his father would think, he began to sob at the thought of never sharing a precious moment with Faline again.
"Bambi?"
His father's tone had changed. It sounded less harsh and demanding and there was a hint of concern in it. Bambi heard what sounded like a book and something china being put down on a hard surface and assumed his father had put the book and teacup down on the small table in front of them. Then he felt a pair of large, surprisingly warm hands on his shoulders.
"Bambi, what's wrong?"
There was no doubt about the concern in his father's voice now. His tone was unexpected, but not discomforting. Bambi suddenly felt that he wanted to explain his problem to his father, but still found it difficult to relive what had happened with Faline.
"Yesterday…" was all he managed to say.
The realistic image of Faline was still fresh in his mind. It was as if it was taunting him. As if it wanted him to feel this torture.
He felt his father's hands apply pressure to his shoulders, as though they were guiding him to a different direction.
"Sit down, Son," said his father, and Bambi knew he was guiding him downward onto the couch behind them.
Bambi sat down and felt his father join his side.
"Look at me," said King Barron, lifting Bambi's chin upwards so that their eyes met. "What happened?" he asked patiently.
Bambi sniffed once or twice and tried to wipe the tears from his eyes, which turned out to be pointless as more of them took their place. He cleared his throat and began to explain the situation to his father.
"Yesterday, Faline and I had an argument," he said slowly.
This one simple sentence brought a look of comprehension to his father's face.
"Oh," he said, nodding. "I see."
Feeling encouraged, Bambi continued his tearful explanation. "I thought if we both just slept on it, everything would be alright in the morning. But when I saw her this morning, she wouldn't even look at me."
It hurt to discuss that too. He paused briefly to let a few more tears fall.
"And when I was taking the exam, I barely knew where I was. She was all I could think about. And that's why I failed," he finished.
"I'm sorry," his father said sincerely. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" he added, not unkindly.
Bambi wanted to shrug, but he suddenly remembered everything Theodore and Florean had told him about keeping his feelings bottled up and underestimating his father.
"I didn't know how to," he said simply. "I'm sorry."
"Bambi," his father said, sounding as though he was trying to reason with him, "you can always tell me when something's upsetting you. Especially if it concerns you and Faline."
Bambi sniffed and nodded. "Maybe I should have. It just hurts to talk about it."
"Sounds familiar," his father confessed. "I know love is hard when you're young. Your mother and I had our fair share of arguments when we started off."
In spite of himself, Bambi looked up at his father, rather taken aback by this bit of information. He'd always thought his father was perfect. It was so odd to actually hear him admit that even he had had relationship troubles in his youth.
"Really?" he asked.
His father chuckled. "Don't look so surprised. I may be a king but I'm still only human," he said, correctly interpreting Bambi's thoughts.
Bambi wanted to chuckle too, but the hole in his heart was preventing him from doing anything other than shed tears.
"I don't understand," he said, referring again to Faline. "I love her."
"I know," his father said, patting him sympathetically on the shoulder.
"I thought she loved me too," Bambi continued.
"She does, I know she does," said his father. "Her parents tell me she speaks very highly of you. It sounds like you treat her very well."
It was true, and there was no denying it. Bambi treated Faline with all the love and respect he felt she deserved. And yet, even that didn't prevent them from having the argument they had had yesterday. A few more tears fell from his eyes.
"She's a wonderful girl, you know," his father continued. "She's polite and intelligent."
Bambi nodded. He knew that better than anyone.
"And also very pretty," his father added rather slyly.
They both chuckled and King Barron punched Bambi lightly on the arm.
"Believe me, if any girl loves you, it's her," the king continued in a slightly more serious tone. "One argument isn't going to change anything. You just need to give each other some space. And when you're both ready to reconcile, everything will be as it was before."
Bambi smiled weakly. "Thanks, Dad."
His father returned the smile and then suddenly looked thoughtful. "We've never talked like this before, have we, Bambi?"
It didn't take Bambi long to figure out what he had meant. It was rather strange. Throughout the entire conversation, he had felt more like a son talking to his father than a prince talking to a king. It really had been the first time they had ever had a conversation like the one they'd just had. And what made it ever more odd was how natural it had been. Bambi had cried and expressed his feelings to his father without feeling ashamed or awkward, for the most part anyway. He had even learned a great deal about his father as well as from him. The man he had once thought was so perfect and proper had been young once, had experienced a broken heart more than once, and had learned to recover from it. And what was more, underneath his majestic and glamorous profile, he actually had a sense of humor. Bambi had learned more about his father in just a manner of minutes than he had in the last nine years. And he had to admit it felt nice.
"No, we haven't," he answered, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes.
"Did it help?" his father asked.
Bambi thought for a moment. Although he had cried all he could about Faline, he still didn't feel completely better about the outcome of their last meeting. But he definitely felt better about something, or rather someone.
"A bit," he answered.
He could still feel a slight pain in the pit of his stomach. It must have shown on his face because his father ruffled his hair in a fatherly way, no doubt trying to make him smile.
"Are you alright?" he asked gently.
Bambi didn't pause this time. He already knew the answer.
"Yeah."
A mere couple of seconds later, King Barron's strong arms had Bambi in a warm, fatherly embrace. Bambi, not at all surprised by this until now rare sign of affection, returned the gesture and buried his face in his father's shoulder. Even though things weren't going well between him and Faline right now, Bambi felt relieved to know he had started a great relationship with someone else, even if it had taken most of his life.
"I love you, Son," said Barron, patting Bambi on the back.
"I love you too, Dad."
The End