'Ughhh…'
Lincoln felt himself stir. Darkness swam within his vision. He never felt this comfortable in weeks and it felt like he was drifting alongside the pillowy clouds. But even all that comfort, there was some sort of lurking pain within him.
Not physical pain and aches. Those were all over his body. No, Lincoln was thinking of emotional pain. Regret, sadness and, worst of all, anger, because he remembered. It all hit him like a truck, from the words to the physical pain, and it made him tremble out of fear. It was not towards the ones who caused him pain however…
It was himself. He was angry towards himself, scared of himself, and remorseful on how he acted. To think every single atrocious thing that he has done to them in the span of five weeks, just to get back at what they have done to him in a span of three weeks. To his credit, many would think that would have been any normal human being's reaction if they were pushed over the edge many times over, but it didn't matter. He did this not only to his sisters… but to his parents as well. His own family… and he hates that so much. He hated what happened so much…
Lincoln hated himself so much...
He mentally shook it off however, hopefully to think and suffer about it for another day. It was because of how soft the beddings were. I mean, he never felt so comfortable in quite a while, with actual beddings on top and below his body. A cooling sensation was felt on his head He unconsciously snuggled in the covers, never wanting to leave. It feels like a cocoon awaiting his awakening as a beautiful butterfly.
"Wait! Did he…?"
"Why yes! He doth stir! Hurry, get the others!"
"Right. Watch him for me and whatever you do, keep healing him. "
"Yes! ...Please wake up…"
Voices? It was strange, he was not familiar with those whispering voices. The first one sounded male and pompous, yet cool, serious and composing, while the other male voice had a lot of sincerity and unsophistication. Keeping his eyes closed and his movements still, he tried to listen in, hoping to get any keywords that popped up. Soon, a creaking sound was heard and Lincoln heard more footsteps approach.
"Oi! About freakin' time! Is it true!? Is he finally-!?" One of the new voice in a light male Scottish accent asked, in an amazed manner, but was immediately shushed.
"SHH! Not so loud! You're giving us all a headache from your incessant shouting!" The second new voice scolded the first, in a whispery tone. This time it was female, having a sort of motherly air to it.
"Oh! Sorry…!" The Irish voice apologized. However, some creaking was heard followed by the sound of metal hitting the ground. Instantly, everybody hushed up again, hoping they didn't wake their bedridden boy up, but Lincoln didn't react on the outside. His heart jumped just as high as the recipients of those four voices.
"Honestly, you're the clumsiest out of the four of us that serve him." The cool voice sighed. Lincoln mentally took note of the "serving" aspect.
"Look, I said I'm sorry, okay? See, from that wee noise I made, he isn't waking up."
"What?! He's not? Oh dear Lo-!" The playful voice immediately cried out, but his voice immediately stopped. Lincoln could hear the struggle in the playful voice's muffles.
"You idiots done shouting?" The cool one asked, with a bit of an edge in his voice.
"Mm-hm."
"Well, keep quiet…!" The female voice gently reminded the others. "The poor boy needs bedrest after everything that has happened." Lincoln felt a soft, tender hand, caressing his cheek. He could feel the sorrow from just the touch alone. "It's depressing that we're the only four servants left that would even wish to continue serving our lord…"
Lincoln's attention rose at the mention of "lord" and "servants". Who is this… lord that these servants were talking about? Where exactly is he now? Lincoln also took note of the beddings. It wasn't just soft, it was also fuzzy. So through deduction, Lincoln was either on tattered beddings with mold growing all around the place (which does not seem like the case) or…
...he was sleeping in a bed made from animal fur.
"Aye...it's only been three days and everybody's riled up from it." The Scottish voice turned somber, almost as if he, alongside everybody in the room sans Lincoln, were reliving memories. Lincoln had to tune into this one.
"The sad part is that the citizens are not completely at fault…" The cool one's voice turned despondent. "
"Damnit… why can't the people see that Lincoln here is a good young lad? They think he's to blame for the slaughter, but nobody has any wee proof of this!" The Scottish man ranted, going on a tirade about said slaughter. Lincoln tried to zero in on this "slaughter", but the rant was going too fast.
"Enough, Sir Charlie." The cool voice cut the Scottish man off, named Charlie. "I've already said that it's not the people's fault either. They're just… scared."
"Scared of what, Walter? I just-." Charlie began his excuse, but Walter, the owner of the cool-acting voice, cut him off again.
"Sir Charlie! You can't deny-!"
"Hush, Walter!" The female voice shushed Walter rather harshly.
"Er, uhh! So sorry… madame…" Walter, his composure calmed, apologized, then went back to Charlie. "You can't deny what has happened a year and a half ago. How our lord's demeanor and attitude changed drastically. How… angry, bloodthirsty and dismissive he has become."
"...That doesn't mean I like it, Walter."
"I know. I don't like it either." From that, their two-way conversation ended, and Lincoln felt remorseful from what happened.
"I really do miss him being happy over having fun, Claudia…" Another conversation began, between the owner of the cheery voice and the female voice, who was apparently named Claudia.
"I know… I do too, George… I always did request that his father not be so hard on him, and look what happens..." Claudia sniffled, sounding like she was about to cry. Lincoln would have woken up from his 'sleep' and consoled her, but he had to stay prone and unconscious. Apparently from what he gathered, their lord turned bloodthirsty and caused a slaughter in a span of a year and a half. For the time being, the ashen-haired boy hoped to stay away from him from the time being.
He sounded like a jerk anyway. I mean, who would want to meet someone like that?
"Don't worry, Claudia. After all, who knows how our lord and Prince Lincoln would act when he wakes up?" George offhandedly remarked, which made a humming sound from Claudia, Walter and Charlie.
'Hmm that is a good question…'' Lincoln thought, as he also wondered what sort of person was Prince Lincoln was like when-
Wait. Prince Lincoln?
"Oh, maybe he would change back into the sweet nurturing boy he once was!" Claudia said sweetly, swooning over the past.
"Maybe he can clean up after himself this time?" Walter denoted, with a hint of playfulness in his voice.
"I just hope our lord isn't still mean and bloodthirsty, ordering and killing people around like that…" George reminisced, something that made Lincoln twitch with horror.
Lord? Bloodthirsty? Killing people?!
"Oi! Ya know that the killing part isn't true yet, ya hear me, George?! For all we know, some assassins might hear us and want the Prince dead!" Charlie barked, and that made Lincoln jump from shock.
K-K-K-K-K-K-
"KILLED?!" Lincoln bolted up without warning from the prospect of getting himself killed. He felt cold sweat on his neck, as everybody gasped in surprise. Unfortunately, Lincoln was so scared shitless, he did not notice his surroundings a few seconds later. Looking around, he hoped to see a bed with actual sheets, pillows and Ace Savvy-themed blankets, but instead he yelped that he was actually sleeping on an actual bed made of animal furs.
"AHHH!"
Lincoln looked up, hopefully to get some semblance of the world around him, only to meet the head of a bear, staring back at him.
"AHHHHH!"
Thankfully, it was mounted on the wall; the bear only had its teeth showing alongside its lifeless eyes. However, when he turned around...
"AHHHHHHHH!"
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"
Lincoln screamed frightfully at the four people who were there. The four servants also screamed in response. It lasted for around five seconds, and then an awkward silence came afterwards; Lincoln because of the sudden change of scenery and the strangers standing across from him, and the other four because of the shock that they have experienced. But before they could ascertain anything, Lincoln rolled his eyes to the back of his head…
… and promptly fell back onto the bed.
"Aieee! He fainted again!"
.o0o.
The end of the school day was just like any other day in the Loud House. Quiet, tense and unnaturally gloomy.
What? You saying that this isn't how the infamous Loud House functions? Well, naturally and routine-wise, you would probably call one crazy for even thinking that. However, after the blowup about being bad luck, those were the prime characteristics of what the Loud House is today. It's quite the oxymoron, wouldn't you say?
Many of the neighbours, while silently thankful that the Loud House wasn't causing any more ruckus, could not say it was welcoming at the slightest. It's the house is a cage holding a dangerous creature, and everyone was scared that it will be released to kill them. One could wonder whether or not they prefer the old, rambunctious and disruptive Loud House, or this new one, where it made the neighbourhood tense. They probably would never admit their answers...
Lincoln could only give an exasperated sigh. He could hear many of the activities of the Loud family going on behind the door, and here he was, sitting on his bed again. It was like this for most of the day: go to school, go back home and straight to the bed. Routine stuff. His 'sisters' and 'parents'…
God, just spitting it out in his head made his mouth give off a bitter aftertaste.
He remembers them beginning their routinely things when he heard the doors open. However, not a lot of energetic noise was present. It was almost as if that certain spark was lost, like they lost the heart to really enjoy their daily activities because of what happened yesterday.
It didn't deter Lincoln at all. In fact, he welcomed the peace and quiet, something that came once in a blue moon. He needed it…
The ashen-haired boy looked around his room. His gloomy apathetic eyes looked around the bedroom. It was as if everything seemed to be in order. Clothes, posters, desk, bookshelf-.
Lincoln paused at the bookshelf. Within the stacks of comics that were neatly ordered from first issue to the last one at one of the ends, a hardcover book stood out to him from the stack. Giving it a hard look, he realized it was a fairy tale book. "A pretty famous one at that," quoted Mrs. Johnson, his homeroom teacher. Lincoln thought as he continued to stare at it. He remembered that it was Monday and that it was for a book report due in a month and a half from now. Due to some… "outside interference"... he was the one who got the last book on the list.
Many would consider what he has been forced to choose boring and archaic, but to Lincoln, it had a bit of mysterious attraction for some reason. Getting off from his bed, he reached over and grabbed it, looking at the front cover and reading it out loud.
"King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table…?" He recited, legitimately curious. It had everything an imaginative little boy would enjoy reading: knights, princesses, huge epic battles, swords, shields, royalty, adventure…
Oh well, what's the worst that can happen?
Opening the book, Lincoln relaxed himself, sat back down on his bed and began to read.
.o0o.
"Ughhh…"
Lincoln groaned as his eyes spiraled back and forth in circles. His muscles began to gain feeling once more as he twitched and moved. Finally, he began to open his eyes, hoping to whatever God was out there that the nightmare was over.
"Ah! He's awake! Again! The young prince is awake! Again!"
"He is?! Again?! Cheers!"
Lincoln only stiffened from the confirmation that it was not a dream at all. Turning his head around, he can only watch as two men, one tall and bulky and one short and thin, jumped around and danced with brimming joy like giant rabbits finding a motherlode of carrots. Their arms were linked together as if they were hugging, and Lincoln only heard cheers from the bumbling men, who were honestly making a lot of noise from shaking the floorboards.
Lincoln only watched them in complete confusion. One of them was a large muscular mountain of a man, having bare muscular arms bulging out, and a puffed chest. The only sorts of attire he had on were a thick chainmail without the sleeves, some chain leggings around his brawny legs, brown combat boots, and undergarments. Messy bunches of white hair decorated his wiry form: on his head, forearms, face (in the form of a mustache and braided beard) and a little bit poking out of the chest area. The most notable aspect however, was the black eyepatch over his left eye. His face looked gruff, but the large smile and the tears forming in his large eye says otherwise. It kind of reminded Lincoln of an old Scottish man.
The other man is actually short, yet had a large smile on his face. Compared to the large man's muscular form, this one was more thinner and shorter. Actually, now that Lincoln looks closer, the short man looked rather young, maybe around a few years older than Lincoln. The features that he had was the brown hair on his head and the tiny black eyes. He had a brown vest, neatly tied up in brown string and tied with a brown strap, with yellow cuffed garments underneath. He also had a beige leggings and black boot. All of that was covered up into a brown friar robe that was left open, which made him look like a priest or low-ranking cleric. The look of his face was incredibly jolly and innocent, indicating that this man was young, a little naive, and possibly religious.
Lincoln could only stare at them. Who were these people? Something within him wanted to well up, but he didn't know what it was. It also did not help that both men were now looking at him with happiness.
"Lord Lincoln! You're finally awake, alive and well! We were so worried that you would have been snoozin' forever! Oh, it brings tears to my eyes…" The old Scottish brute bellowed with happiness, tears about to well up from his eyes, and a wide smile stretched across his face, showing his many disjointed teeth. Sniffing, he grabbed a handkerchief from behind him and wiped his tear ducts before tears leaked out. "...and this time I'm not afraid to admit it!"
"Ohhh, praise be! The young prince has awoken! Praise be! Praise be!" The priest raised and dropped his hands, almost like religious bowing, tears in his eyes as well. "I knew my God would not fail me! I knew I made the right choice!"
Lincoln couldn't say anything as he was watched the two men bawl their eyes out. What could he say? Apparently, for some reason, they knew him as their 'lord' or 'prince of this kingdom'. He really did not want to offend them in any way possible in terms of insults, but he had to get across that he isn't a prince nor a lord of any kind. "Uhh…" He only began, but the door slammed open, and what looks like a young frilly maid ran in, looking frantic.
"He's awake?! Sir Charlie! George! Is thy prince awake?!" She exclaimed in surprise, until her eyes locked on Lincoln himself, who stiffened a little for being the center of attention. The maid in question looked rather beautiful, having beautiful long raven-coloured hair. The attire was more standard to a maid: black dress, with a white apron, beige bandana, white stockings and black shoes. Her nose is small, and her lips were supple, but her eyes gave a sense of love and care as tears ran down her cheeks. "Lincoln!" She cried out, and launched herself into a bear hug, easily knocking over the large knight, aptly named Charlie, and the young robed priest named George. "Oh, thank goodness you've awoken! I would've been drinking cold homemade mushroom soup without my lord!"
"Oi! Calm yourself, Claudia! You're going to suffocate the prince before he even had his first meal in ages!"
Lincoln had to admit; he was not used to the clinginess that was this woman, who was certainly not listening to the overbearing Scottish knight. George also began to sniffle a little, as he joined in the big friendly hug. The maid then quickly broke off the hug.
"Oh! That's right! We must get you some food! Quickly, we can get him some of his favourite meat porridge stew that Prince Lincoln oh so adores!" The maid named Claudia exclaimed, but before she can leave a trail of dust, the door opened and a tray along with a blond-haired man walked in.
"There is no need for that, Miss. Claudia." The well-dressed butler reassured, as he placed the tray on the little table beside the bed. By the looks of it, Lincoln was drooling at the sight of the beef, vegetable and barley stew. "I have already made a batch, specifically for the young prince. He will be up at no time." The butler replied in a cool, sophisticated, yet pompous and reassuring tone. Lincoln took a closer look at his features. The butler in question looked like he was in his early twenties, with smooth skin and a fair body build on muscle. He had a small thin mustache on the top of his stiff upper lip, and his blonde hair was combed back. Thin glasses adorned his face and his attire had a red butler's coat, a yellow vest lining underneath, a cravat, yellow pants, socks and red shoes. What caught Lincoln's attention was that his eyebrows were always furrowed, almost as if he was cross with the ones he looks at. He had the perfect posture and attire for a butler, something Lincoln has never seen in real life before. Before he really thought any further, the man walks up to Lincoln's bed, placed his right hand on his left pec, and bowed. "Young Prince, I bring thee a late lunch, courtesy of myself and Miss Claudia here." The man smiled politely at him, which was only met with silence from Lincoln himself.
"Oi! How come you haven't saved any for us?! We're hungry too, you know!" Charlie snapped at Walter, who further furrowed his eyebrows (something that sounds impossible despite how furrowed they were). Claudia just narrowed her eyes at Charlie for saying something rude to Walter, and George was worried it was going to turn into another spat.
"Well, it's a meal, fit for thy prince, and only thy prince." Walter replied, in his cool manner. Charlie only had his jaw drop.
"B-But… it smells so heavenly…" The large bodybuilder of a man drooped his head and arms, his salivating tongue mourning at the loss of the taste and nutritiousness of beef, veggie and barley stew.
"Well then…" Walter, the butler, turned to Lincoln, who was still silent. "Lord Lincoln, please eat the stew before it gets cold. We wouldn't wish to waste it for Sir Charlie to have, right?"
Instantly, Charlie raised his head, a joking smile on his face. "Hahah! Well, he better start eating it then! I'm so hungry, even a full boar can't fill me up!" The large aged warrior laughed heartily, gaining a brief smile from the other servants, sans Lincoln, still not reacting to any of this.
"Both of them are right, Lincoln. Please eat. You haven't eaten in three straight days." Claudia, the maid, reassured to Lincoln, rubbing his back. However, no response was generated, as he was still silent.
"C'mon, Lincoln! Up and at'em!" George, the young friar, said in a bubbly fashion. Still, Lincoln wasn't able to generate a response. Even after everything that has happened, he didn't move. He just stared at the four servants who were acting like they were family to him… What could he say to them?
And for some reason, the silence began to unsettle the four of them. All four of them lost their own smiles, twisting into expressions that imitated Lincoln when he watched the Harvester his first time. It was if all four of them remembered, and about to relive a horrible, tragic memory...
Lincoln was wondering if he had done something wrong, maybe antagonize them. He hasn't even thanked the four strangers yet, and now he's acting like a horrid guest. Yet still, it intrigued him. Even Charlie had a frightened look on his face; one who normally is brave, fiery, courageous and headstrong suddenly backing away with a panicking expression… There was something definitely wrong.
"Umm… Lord Lincoln? Have we…?" George began to shake in fear, a large contrast to his bubbly self. A reason for shaking was unknown to Lincoln.
"P-Please milord, have mercy…" Claudia whispered in horror. Tears began to well from her eyes.
"M-Milord… is the soup not adequate for you? Please tell me, and I shall arrange for another dish of your choice. J-Just please… don't hurt us..." Walter, being the most composed yet still showing signs of panic, politely stated. He bowed down to show that sincerity, but nobody missed the tremble in his hand and the small whimper that came out of his lips.
That snapped Lincoln out of his reverie. The words 'please… don't hurt us…' rang thousands of deathly church bells within his mind.
'Mercy…'
'Lincoln…'
'Please… don't hurt us…'
"No! No! I would never hurt you!" Lincoln quickly blurted out, needing to get that answer across. He did not know who these strange people were, but having them being afraid of him is not the way to go about it.
Not after what happened.
Thankfully the tension disappeared and everybody let out the breath they never realized they were holding. They still had a couple of shudders but they could recover. It was just a memory after all.
"Ehh, so... why didn't you speak up about it?" Charlie asked, a little worried about how this turn of events was going to unfold. Nobody knew what to expect, Lincoln especially, feeling afraid. Although the fear still lingered, the four servants' concerns, confusions, fears and anticipations killing them from the inside.
"W-Well… I-I just…" Lincoln began, lowering his head and twiddling his thumbs. "I-I…W-Who..." All four servants craned their heads towards him a little closer. However, none of them expected the ashen-haired boy to mutter the next four words:
"Who are you people?"
.o0o.
The clacking of shoes echoed through the halls as a maidservant quickly trekked through the halls. The castle was looking ornate as a few other servants were donning aprons and cleaning or dusting the walls and floors. Dodging around them, the hurrying maidservant stopped at a door and, before correcting his posture, cleared her throat.
"Milady! I've come bearing news that you must lend your ears to." She politely declared. However, she was met with silence.
"Uhmm milady? Are you troubled? May I come in?" The maidservant asked to the recipient behind the door. Again, there was silence. Sighing to herself, the maidservant took measures into her own hands and opened the door.
The room looked a lot more luxurious than the standard rooms that were for the other residents in the castle. Paintings, treasures and jewelry were on the walls, or displayed on cupboards. The tiles were clean and smooth, compared to the wooden floors in the other floors. A clear view was shown outside, complete with the sunbeams shining down. Whoever it was shining down upon, had a black dress and headdress, lying on the large king-sized bed, grieving and mourning with her head on the sheets.
"My queen…" The maidservant bowed her head, hopefully not disrespecting her space. "Forgive me for entering but I have two pieces of urgent news that you must hear about." Initially she got no response, but a few seconds later, a sniffle was heard and the aforementioned queen, garbed in black funeral attire, sat up straight. Turning her head slightly, the maidservant saw her left cheek stained completely in tear tracks.
"..." The queen had no response, signaling the maid to elicit her news. So clearing her throat, she dropped her first bombshell without hesitation or anticipation.
"Prince Lincoln has woken up, milady." She said.
The queen, hearing the news, nearly went a little slack. A small gasp erupted from the mourning woman. The maidservant couldn't decipher her reaction so instead, she dropped the second bombshell.
"Also, his four retainers have stated that he has completely lost his memory. He has no recollection of anything."
That made the queen jolt upwards. The maidservant could only watch, unable to read the emotions the queen had. It was best not to disturb her any longer.
"Forgive me for disturbing you, milady. The rest of the castle has been informed. I bid you good day." She bowed and left, closing the door gently, hoping that the queen wasn't angry.
Contrary to that belief, the queen… well, she didn't know what to feel. Many emotions began to well up from within her fractured confused heart, to the point where she began to shake. Fresh new tears fell down her cheeks. She didn't know what to think or feel about this.
She just... felt.