Aaaaand here it is! The next chapter! :D

Many thanks to AmIDelis and Mighty Agamemnon for their reviews! X3

Everything I want to say about this chapter is at the end! Before that, enjoy!

The Prince and His Valet

v. – part 3

The story was hastily told, with Donald spending the next five minutes listening to the non-royal mouse in front of him stutter the entire ordeal. When he finished, the mallard put a hand to his head, "So what you're saying is, your name is Mickey Mouse, and the Prince had you brought to his room. After finding out that the two of you looked exactly alike, he decided it would be good it idea to trade places with you for a day. So right now, while you're here posing as His Highness, the Prince is out there. Posing as you."

"Uh…yeah. I think." The mouse that he now knew called Mickey replied uncertainly. "I…didn't really understand most of what you said, but…"

Donald stared at him for a couple of seconds, then his expression changed to one of anger and annoyance as he muttered, "Why that miserable, sorry excuse for a prince! When he gets back, I'm going to murder him!"

"I'm sorry!" Mickey suddenly squeaked, covering his head with his arms. When Donald looked at him blankly, the mouse looked up uncertainly, "Uh…I mean, you aren't mad at me?"

"Why should I be mad at you? The way I see it, the Prince is the one that forced you into doing this." Donald replied, this time taking the time to clearly enunciate every word. Well, as clearly as he could, anyway. "And stop apologizing for everything. It's annoying."

The mouse opened his mouth, but then quickly shut it again. Instead he just said, "Oh." And then he smiled innocently at Donald. For the mallard, after all these years of putting up with the Prince's fake innocence, seeing a genuine good-hearted smile coming from that same face was…unsettling. He turned away from the mouse before any reaction could show on his face. "So am I the only besides you two that knows about this?"

"Yeah." Mickey replied. "And really, I'd appreciate it if it stayed that way. H-his royal Highness said he'd be back in a blink of an eye, and I don't want to cause any more trouble, so…"

Donald stared at him again, and the peasant boy shifted nervously under his gaze while giving him a pleading look. Again, seeing a rarely seen expression on a familiar face took the duck aback a little, but then he quickly shook his head and sighed. "Fine, I'll keep your secret. But that royal pain in the behind had better get back soon, or I swear, I'm going to-"

He never got to finish that sentence, because Mickey (who obviously didn't hear anything beyond "I'll keep your secret") launched himself at him and pulled him into a rib-crushing hug. "Oh, thank you, thank you, Sir Donald!" He said a bit too cheerfully for Donald's liking.

"It's fine." Donald wheezed as he finally pulled himself from the mouse's arms. "And just call me Donald. It'll raise questions if you don't. And don't hug me again. The Prince doesn't go around hugging people."

The prince look-alike beamed at him and laughed half-sheepishly. Donald again found himself staring at this Prince's face doing everything it didn't usually do. Then he shook his head and sighed.

He needed to get used to this.

The day went on without much other incident. Mickey had meekly asked Donald if he could teach him how to properly use a sword. The teenage duck had complied, and they spent the rest of the afternoon in the courtyard, with the mouse awkwardly trying to use the blade in his hands, and Donald face-palming himself whenever the mouse lost balance on the most basic of stances. Eventually they switched the sword for a much lighter rapier, the one that Donald remembered using when he and the Prince first started the fencing lessons. Even so, Mickey still struggled, albeit with much less falling over.

But despite everything, Donald had to admit that Mickey was a fast learner. Within two hours, he was able to follow the fencing maneuvers almost perfectly. He still fumbled with the rapier, and his grip on the weapon could be better (Donald had to dodge a stray flying sword way too many times), but he was, in all, showing impressive progress.

When he told the not-Prince that, the teenage mouse again beamed at him, and the duck had to hold out both his hands and shake his head frantically to stop the enthusiastic teen from glomping him again. They finished the session with a small duel, which Donald won, but Mickey had landed enough hits to make him compliment the mouse.

The peasant boy laughed giddily as he skipped off into the palace with the rapier in his hand. Donald considered calling the mouse back to return the rapier, but figured that no one would miss it. Instead, he quickly placed everything back to where it was and followed the not-Prince to make sure he didn't do anything too out of character.

As the evening approached, the two teenage boys spent the time in the Prince's room, with Donald ambling around the room with his everyday duties and Mickey following him, curious about everything and anything. He asked questions, to which Donald either answered or cast him a look that said "You're asking about that? Seriously?" He also told Donald everything about himself. Within thirty minutes, the duck knew that the boy had grown up in London, and that he had a best friend named Goofy (which he didn't believe and laughed at until Mickey gave him a disheartened look). He also had a dog named Pluto (he had to wonder where this mere commoner who had near to none education found out about the name of a Roman god), who he had come into the palace to look for. Then he knew he was an orphan.

This caused the teenage valet to pause in the swipe he was performing while cleaning the table. Mickey didn't notice and continued to ramble on about the adventures (or misadventures, really) he had with Goofy and Pluto, all the while completely oblivious that Donald was now staring at him intently.

The duck hadn't considered that there was someone out there that shared his fate, and to find out one did was oddly touching. He wondered if Mickey grew up with the same troubles that he did, if he had ever questioned his own existence when witnessing a loving scene between a father and a son. He wondered at what age he lost his parents, and was he able to remember some of them (like him), or did he not recall his parents at all?

His musings were cut off as a maid knocked at the door and informed him that Horace needed to see him. He excused himself from the Prince look-alike (who waved good bye at him much too cheerfully for the real Prince, causing the duck to wince) and quickly exited into the hall.

"Where is he?" He asked the maid. The somber reply that came immediately caused a chill the run up his spine and the feeling of dread and foreboding to settle in his stomach.

"He's in His Majesty's private quarters, sir."

He shot the maid a fearful look and took off running as fast as he could, hoping against hope that the situation that would greet him would not be what he thought it would be.

To be continued…

Cliffhanger? :D

Woo-hoo, Mickey finally appears! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I think I might have mellowed Micky out a bit too much, but I like the contrast it shows between Mickey and the Prince's personalities. Plus, the way it flusters Donald is too fun to pass up. XDD

And as promised, I'm going to share why I chose to use fencing/swordsmanship as the plot device. If anyone remembers, in the movie when the Prince (and Donald and Goofy) confronts Pete, the Prince grabbed a sword from a guard and used it. When Pete asked for a chance to explain himself, the Prince "sheathed" the sword even though he didn't have a sheath on him (him being in Mickey's clothes and all), but I took that as an action from someone who is very skilled and comfortable with a sword, leading me to believe that the Prince is indeed very good at fencing. And that raises up the question of "who does he spar with?", because we all know we love spars. Then I thought, well, why not Donald? And everything came together when I remembered earlier in the movie, when Horace went to get the "Prince" to see the dying King, Mickey was happily practicing (well, I assume he was practicing) a fencing maneuver while reciting the moves out loud. I would imagine that the real prince's skills would be good enough so that he wouldn't have to recite the moves to get the maneuvers correct. So why was Mickey reciting them? Because Mickey was taught them. Why was he taught? Because he knew next to nothing about fencing. Then why didn't everyone else find out about the "Prince's" sudden lack of skills? Because he was taught in secret. Who taught him in secret? Again, why not Donald? :D

Or maybe that's just my excuse to involve Donald in everything. XD

Wow, that was long! Hope that actually made sense to those who actually read it. XD

Things are not looking good for the king. How will Donald react?

~ruth~