Funnily enough, I had a mental picture of the last part much earlier than the first and the second one here. Makes it really hard to write the earlier ones, though. Anyway, I had fun with this. Writing young Moulder is surprisingly fun. Also, I so very much enjoy insituating that Hayden does work with dirty tricks sometimes. 8D
As Moulder approached his second year in Castle Frelia, his tasks grew harder and longer. He quickly found himself in the city group – about half of the new monks and the "veterans" went to town daily to support orphanages, small outposts of the church and did anything that popped up and could be done by them – for his fellow novices who came from regions closer to the capital decided that he needed to get to know the city. While he certainly liked his new tasks and thrived in this environment, he was sad that now he saw Prince Hayden far less frequently.
Despite still feeling ashamed for his feelings – so inappropriate! The Prince of all people! – he couldn't suppress the boyish need to see his crush. The fact that it was this base want that motivated him to better his singing voice so that he would be placed at the altar again because he could see the prince from there the best was his biggest shame, though. Every time he opened his practice book of holy songs, he felt guilt. But looking at the prince always made his heart jump and tickled his skin so nicely...
Almost each night, as he flopped down on his bunk, he would think about this sin and any other he had done that day – so many concerning the prince... – and feel torn. Many times he prayed that the Goddess would forgive him – and in very weak moments he prayed that maybe, maybe the Goddess could bring him closer to the prince.
As pretty much every night, his prayers were interrupted by the door of his sleeping room being flung open and laughter invading the room. Moulder sighed, turned on his side and looked towards the door. His three room mates – Gregor, Lewis and Bjorn – were coming back from the mess hall.
"There you are!" Gregor, a freckled blond boy with a pointy nose, called. Moulder nodded to him in acknowledgement.
"You're always so quick," said Bjorn, who had a strong drawl and who had to repeat himself often since he tended to mumble as well. His friends had learnt to understand him regardless.
"I'm just tired," Moulder retorted and let his head slide from his arm to his pillow. The three boys turned their attention back to an earlier conversation and started to change into their night clothes. Moulder turned on his back and stared at the ceiling, losing himself in his mind and reflections.
He was rudely yanked out of them, though, as he heard the name: "– and Prince Hayden sent a battalion, I heard, but they've not reported back yet." Moulder shot up in a sitting position and looked at his room mates. Bjorn and Lewis, a dark green-haired boy who looked far older than he really was, were already lying on their bed while Gregor was standing around in front of his bed, arms crossed and looking thoughtfully into nothingness.
"What did Prince Hayden do?" Moulder asked. Gregor startled and looked at him. He promptly rolled his eyes as did Bjorn.
"Of course that would wake you up." Bjorn and Lewis snickered; Moulder blushed.
"What did he do?" he repeated, his voice slightly quivering.
"You remember the missing cargo from Grado?" Lewis asked and propped his head on his hand. Moulder crinkled his forehead.
"They're talking about almost nothing else," Bjorn added. Gregor nodded and flopped down on his bed.
"A ship disappeared, just behind the border. Nobody knows what happened and the emperor is angry 'cause it disappeared on our side. Prince Hayden sent men to investigate." Moulder swallowed and nodded. He had heard rumours about the emperor´s temper and his view of Frelia.
"And Prince Hayden has found nothing yet." Gregor nodded.
"Yeah. And Grado seems to get impatient."
"The prince gotta hurry," Bjorn commented, crossing his arms behind his head. "Or Grado'll get someone´s head."
"The prince will surely find the culprit and the ship," Moulder said. "There is nothing Prince Hayden couldn't do." He almost immediately regretted saying that aloud; new snickers arose from the others. Gregor rolled his eyes again.
"Of course our dearest Prince Hayden can do everything," Lewis said, his voice wobbling from his suppressed laughter.
"Yes, he snips his fingers and suddenly the thieves'll just turn up and confess because Prince Hayden says so!" Gregor added. Moulder was blushing furiously by now. Bjorn guffawed – even his laugh seemed to be drawled.
"Prince Hayden has already proved that he is the best investigator in Magvel," Moulder said, trying to be heard over their laughter, "and there is no reason to think he won't resolve this case as well."
"Yeah, yeah, Moulder, our prince is the best," Gregor said and waved him off. "But hey, maybe the culprit wasn't some bandits." The other two boys quickly fell silent and looked at Gregor with curiosity in their eyes.
"What do'ya mean?" Bjorn asked and pushed himself up, sitting cross-legged.
"I mean, think about," Gregor said and leaned back against the stone wall, "last negotiations with Grado went bad, didn't they?" Moulder nodded; it had been hard to miss that spectacle. The ambassador of Grado seemed to have treated the king horribly – or so Moulder heard – and reported every tiny insult to the emperor; suffice to say that toll charges for Gradian products had skyrocketed.
"You mean Grado had something to do with the missing ship?" Lewis asked curiously.
"Well, it could be," Gregor said with a shrug. "Would be a great excuse for a war."
"War?" Moulder exclaimed shocked. "Why do you believe the emperor would want war?"
"Well, I don't know," Gregor admitted. "But it could be. Or they want reparations for the missing ship and crew."
"Or blame Frelia for some mistake someone else made," Bjorn chimed in. "And embarrass us in return."
"But wouldn't something else be better for that...?" Lewis asked and pulled his blanket up to his chest.
"Maybe." Gregor shrugged and picked his blanket up as well, draping it over his shoulders. "But maybe this was convenient." Bjorn nodded thoughtfully, Lewis fell silent and stared at the ceiling. Moulder frowned doubtfully.
"Or..." Bjorn said after a few minutes of silence and shuffling around. The other boys turned their gazes to him. "Or Prince Hayden arranged it."
"Arranged what?" Moulder asked, feeling highly alarmed.
"The missing ship," Bjorn said and slowly sat up. Moulder´s face fell; he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"So you're saying that Prince Hayden wants to provoke Grado?" Gregor asked and turned on his belly to look over to Bjorn´s bunk.
"Yah, maybe." Bjorn shrugged. "The prince also arranged the contracts with Carcino and you know how they turned out for them." Lewis snickered.
"You're right. They're probably still angry about that. Prince Hayden is really sneaky."
"Be quiet," Moulder said angrily. "Prince Hayden wasn't sneaky. If the representatives from Carcino had paid attention, this wouldn't have happened."
"But Prince Hayden still added that article, remember," Lewis argued. "So he still tried to cheat them." The adrenalin throbbed loudly in Moulder´s ears. He couldn't let them badmouth the prince like that!
"How do you know that he was the one who added it? Maybe it was an advisor or the king himself. Prince Hayden would never knowingly deceive someone."
"Moulder, your trust in the prince is surely endearing," Gregor made a little pause for effect, "to someone. But the prince is no saint." Moulder blushed again; this time the red even reached his ears. "As a prince you can't be one."
"You can," Moulder argued heatedly. He would not let them talk like this! Gregor rolled his eyes again, but this time there was no amusement on his face.
"Yeah, yeah, go to sleep now, Moulder. We're tired of your apologizing." Moulder huffed, turned to the wall and pulled his blanket up high. He tried to shut the voices of his room mates out and thankfully soon the light of the only lamp was extinguished. Moulder laid awake for quite some time – the conversation had enraged him so much that his face was still burning and his mind whirling – and only when he was surround by three different snores, he found some rest.
###
The next morning, Moulder still hadn't forgot what his friends had said last night. He was no longer angry, though, just slightly miffed. His room mates seemed to have left it behind them already and were joking like always at breakfast. Moulder hadn't had it in him to join their joking. He silently ate his gruel and then went to attend the morning prayer of the monks in the church.
He was quite happy that he had cleaning duty that day and didn't have to join Gregor, Bjorn and Lewis in the city. The solitary morning in the silent church would do him good; he could sort out his thoughts and cool down. Every time Gregor, Bjorn or Lewis had addressed him during breakfast, his face had turned hot. Even though yesterday night hadn't come up.
Disgruntled, Moulder fetched the broom from the hidden store room and began to clean around the entrance door.
His thoughts quickly returned to the accusations against Prince Hayden. Moulder had thought highly of his friends before – even though they had always teased him about his excitement over everything the prince did – but this had seriously made him doubt the state of their minds. How could anyone think that Prince Hayden would do such reprehensible things like provoking a war with Grado? Moulder clicked his tongue and accidentally hit a sitting row with his broom. He glared admonishingly at the broom and then continued his cleaning more carefully.
Moulder still liked his friends, despite their obvious fault, and he was angry that he was angry at them. He shook his head at that thought. But he couldn't understand why they would think like that. The thought that Prince Hayden would even want to spoof anyone... Moulder had seen how good a person the prince was. That couldn't be true.
Moulder sighed heavily. Slowly, he dragged the broom between the second and first row and then stepped forward. He stood in front of the altar; his gaze slowly travelled from the decorated white stone up to the colourful glass high above it. Latona was displayed there, her hand raised in a sign of acceptance and love. Moulder sighed internally. Then he turned his head to the first seat on the left row. There the prince always sat and listened to Moulder´s singing.
"No, he isn't a bad person," Moulder mumbled to himself and averted his gaze, dropping it to his feet. He pressed his mouth close tightly. It was all a lie, that he was sure off. Someone else was trying to dirty the prince´s name. And surely the prince would soon unveil said dark plan and-
His train of thought was interrupted by the creaking of a door. Moulder looked over his shoulder, hiding a glare, and squinted to see the intruder.
"Brother Moulder, here you are," the person said and walked around the column that was hiding him.
"Father Larov," Moulder almost squeaked with embarrassment and bowed deeply.
"Yes, yes, Brother Moulder, hurry up," the red-haired man said, hastening over and waving dismissively. "The bishop needs your service."
"My service?" Moulder asked surprised as he straightened.
"Yes. He wants you to bring this letter to the prince."
"The prince!" Moulder was too overwhelmed to feel gleeful at the thought that he would meet and speak with the prince again!
"Yes." Father Larov frowned with impatience. "The prince seems to like you so it is more probable that the letter will reach him when you're the messenger." Moulder hesitated – Larov pulled a neat letter from his robe and almost threw it in Moulder´s direction.
"The prince likes me?" he asked confused. Larov´s face darkened and he pointedly looked at the letter in his hand. Moulder quickly took it and only then Father Larov seemed to relax.
"Yes, yes, so I've heard. And now hurry. The bishop wants a quick answer."
"Yes, Father Larov," Moulder said, his tongue almost stumbling over the words, bowed and jogged to the storage room to throw the broom in and then slipped through the church door. He would be able to meet Prince Hayden!
###
Moulder quite enjoyed the rush of adrenalin that was racing through his whole body as he walked to the prince´s office, as the guards stopped him and he explained why he was here, as he waited while one guard talked to the prince and as the door was finally opened. His hands were trembling when he entered the large room.
At first Moulder didn't see the prince, only a big, broad desk on the right side. Moulder was in awe; he had never before seen such fine wood, such carefully and detailed carvings nor a desk of this size. Back in his home cloister and even here the monks´ desks were so small they could barely place anything more than paper and ink on it. But at this desk several people could sit and work.
Moulder´s shoulders slumped and he swallowed hard. He felt so very small and stupid. Moulder flinched as suddenly a door opened behind him; he whirled around.
"Brother Moulder, what a surprise to see you again," Prince Hayden said with a pleasant smile as he entered the room. Moulder stiffened, blushed and nodded simultaneous. He hastily added a bow after the prince had greeted him with a nod. Now he also felt foolish and clumsy.
The prince pushed his sleeves up, walked around the table and sat down. "I've heard you have a letter for me?" Moulder nodded and stepped forward, extending the hand that clutched the letter so hard it crumbled lightly.
"Yes, Prince Hayden. It is a letter from Bishop Findlay." A tiny crease appeared between the prince´s eyebrows, which rattled Moulder greatly. He quickly stepped back and glued his gaze to the ground. He only heard how the prince broke the seal and unfolded the letter. Many painful seconds passed. Adrenalin was still tickling and racing through Moulder´s body, but this was not the pleasant adrenalin from earlier. This felt more like walking through the Jehannan desert with winter clothing on.
"Brother Moulder, why did the bishop sent this through you?" Moulder swallowed hard; his whole body was trembling. The prince´s voice sounded so serious.
"Father Larov said that he thought it was likelier that the letter would reach you if I were the messenger." More painful seconds passed and Moulder started to think that meeting the prince, crush or not, was not exactly a good thing.
"Brother Moulder, I want you to bring my answer letter to the bishop, if you have no other duties at the moment." Moulder peeked at the prince through his hair. Hayden had already grabbed a quill and dipped it into his ink glass.
"Of course, Prince Hayden," Moulder mumbled. Hayden wrote quickly, folded the paper and sealed it with red wax. He then placed the letter on the edge of the table. Insecurely, Moulder stepped forward and took it. He hesitated, held the letter against his chest and looked at the prince. Hayden noticed it after he had placed the quill in its holder.
"Is there something else?" he asked with one quirked eyebrow.
"Ah, well, sire, I was wondering..." Moulder stammered and dropped his gaze to his feet. "If I may a-ask a question."
"You may."
"Thank you, sire. I've wanted to ask about the missing ship."
"Why?" Moulder swallowed again – what a resistant lump in his throat – as the prince leaned back in his chair, folded his hands and looked so serious again.
"I've heard many, uhm, rumours lately." Moulder clutched the letter nervously. "Some say that Grado let the ship disappear to damage Frelia´s name." He couldn't bring himself to repeat what his room mates had said about the prince; those words would never pass his lips.
"I see." The prince seemed to relax at his words; Moulder wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "I can neither verify nor negate this accusation. We do not know enough yet." The pleasant smile entered the prince´s face again and for the first time, Moulder let the prince look him in the eye. Moulder was immediately enchanted by the prince´s beautiful grey eyes. The pleasant adrenalin shot into his cheeks.
"I've told them to stop gossiping," Moulder hastily said and averted his gaze; the direct eye contact made him too excited.
"That is laudable." Moulder could not prevent the silly grin from entering his face, but at least he could partially hide it by bowing his head.
"Thank you, Prince Hayden."
"Very well, then. Please take the letter to-" Prince Hayden stopped suddenly and inclined his head to the door. Moulder perked his ears; there was a small commotion. Moulder looked at the door, curious and slightly angry; making such a ruckus and interrupting the prince like that was very rude. "Guards!" the prince called; he looked so serious again. The door was opened and one of the guards bowed to the prince. Behind him Moulder could see a newcomer; a pegasus knight who wheezed and had flushed cheeks. Her hair was in a disarray and it didn't seem like she had slept much lately.
"My apologies, Your Highness," the guard said, "a messenger from Grado has arrived and says that she has urgent news." Prince Hayden shot up in a straight position. Moulder was slightly startled and retreated back – he knew he should leave completely, but the serious atmosphere intimidated him and he'd rather say nothing at all and slink around the messenger so that nobody would notice him.
"Let her in." The prince seemed to have forgot about Moulder as well; his eyes were glued to the pegasus knight, who hurried to catch her breath. The guard bowed, let the messenger slide past him and closed the door. "What is it?" Moulder despaired inwardly as the door clunk shut.
"Your Highness, Emperor Vanya is dead." Moulder startled, his gaze shooting over to the prince. Hayden was positively flabbergasted – he quickly hid his astonishment and donned a strict expression.
"What are the circumstances?"
"Not much is known yet, Your Highness." The pegasus knight´s breathing finally had calmed and she shifted into a stiff, alert stance. "The only information Prince Vigarde and the councilmen have released is that the emperor has died during the night in his sleep. There has been rumours about the emperor´s health, but no concrete information."
"What is your assessment of this rumour?"
"I found it not to be true, sire," the pegasus knight said and nodded sharply. "Emperor Vanya seemed to be in good health." Prince Hayden shifted, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the table. He rested his chin on his folded hands.
"What about other rumours? Are there any suspects?"
"Yes, Your Highness, but most of them should not be trusted, in my opinion. Many are heavily biased and accusing their own particular enemies." Hayden nodded, by now frowning lightly. "The councilmen have announced that they will investigate the case, but at the time of my departure nothing had happened yet."
"When did you leave?"
"Three days after Emperor Vanya´s death, Your Highness." Prince Hayden´s frown deepened. Moulder shifted uncomfortably; he knew he shouldn't be here. It had been a mistake not to speak up earlier. He felt like he would regret it bitterly. "Lady Beatrice is still in Grado and observes the investigators closely as well as the Imperial Prince and his wife."
"Good." Moulder flinched when Prince Hayden suddenly pushed his chair back and stood up. He slowly walked around his desk, crossing his arms. "What about their investigation of the missing Pride and her cargo?"
"Most of the investigators were called back. On the day of my departure there were rumours that the whole investigation would be dropped, but neither Lady Beatrice nor I were sure how true those rumours are." Hayden nodded thoughtfully – he was pacing in front of his desk by now. His gaze was lowered, which was probably the only thing that saved Moulder from being detected. He was almost pressed against the wall by now and felt the cold of the stones creep through his robes.
"Understood." Prince Hayden came to a halt and turned to the pegasus knight. "Well done, Lady Ann. You are dismissed." A smile crept on the face of the pegasus knight and she saluted. "You're getting new orders tomorrow or the day after tomorrow." She nodded and then turned and strode towards the door.
As soon as the door fell close behind her, Prince Hayden sighed through his nose. Moulder swallowed hard. Now after he heard and saw everything, it would be even harder to leave without any repercussions. He cursed himself for his earlier inactivity. The prince turned on his heels and made to sit on his chair again. Just as he leaned back and crossed his arms, he suddenly whirled his gaze around to Moulder. The young monk flinched visibly as the grey gaze seemed to pierce his eyes.
"Brother Moulder," the prince said in a voice that sounded decidedly blank and angry to Moulder. He swallowed hard and heard the paper between his trembling fingers rustling.
"I– I'm sorry, sire, I– I didn't mean—" Moulder dropped his gaze – he just couldn't bear to see disapproval and anger and disappointment, which would surely be there, in the prince´s eyes.
"Brother Moulder, I expect that no knowledge of the conversation that just took place in this room will leave this room until I allow it." Moulder nodded hastily, involuntarily digging his fingers into the letter. If the prince purposefully let silence take over to torture Moulder or not, the young monk didn't know and if Hayden did, Moulder thought he deserved it. Fidgeting nervously, he wished he could just leave already.
"I'm truly sorry, Your Highness," Moulder said. Everything was better than the silence – even self-humiliation. "I didn't intend to eavesdrop and I would never tell anybody about somebody else´s private conversation, especially not if it's you or the bishop or Father Larov. There would be grave consequences if anyone would ever spread what Father Larov is talking about with his wife. Nobody would want to know anyway, because it's nothing anyone else but them should know and very private–" Moulder rambled and noticed – as the words uncontrollably fell from his lips – that he probably just made everything worse.
"Please, Brother Moulder!" Prince Hayden interrupted him and the surprised and slightly amused tone of his voice made Moulder look up. The prince´s mouth twitched and seemed to want to broaden into a smile. "I do not need to know what Father Larov and his wife are doing." Moulder blushed and nodded hastily as the smile finally seemed to win the prince over.
"We novices do not want to know as well," Moulder said shyly, "but it's a good way to punish others." Though he was still tense and nervous, he smiled a half-smile. Prince Hayden laughed and the sound immediately relaxed Moulder; it was such a nice sound and Moulder wished he could hear it more often. It would immediately shoo any worries and negatives thoughts out of his head.
"Very well, Brother Moulder," the prince said and Moulder sobered quickly. "You don't need to fret too much. In a matter of days or maybe even hours the information will have travelled through the whole castle." The prince sighed. "News like this cannot be contained long. However..." Just as Moulder had found new hope that this would not end badly, it was crushed yet again. "I expect that this will not happen again." Prince Hayden levelled a gaze at Moulder that made the monk feel very small, very bad and very guilty. He nodded quickly – no wonder that Lord Innes rarely fussed around the prince.
"I promise, Your Highness, in Latona´s name." Moulder placed his right hand over his heart and actually managed to look the prince in the eyes. The approval he saw there made his heart thump against his chest; he imagined he felt it against his palm.
"Good. Now please deliver the letter to Bishop Findlay directly." Moulder nodded, bowed and hastened out of the door.
The conversation with the prince haunted him for the rest of the day and for many weeks afterwards. While he was still ashamed of his conduct, he felt that in a way he got to know the prince better. That they had shared something after the pegasus knight had left. Moulder just felt closer to the prince. And said closeness made him appreciate and love the prince even more.