Chapter Text
Once Upon A Time, in a magical kingdom known as Andalasia, there lived a lonely prince. He lived in the shadow of his late older brother, under the scorn of his Queen & King. Selfish and cruel, they shunned their mistake of a child. Undertaking Knighthood, Prince Evan looks for every opportunity to show his parents he is worthy to, one day, become King of Andalasia. The kingdom’s rulers however, search for every chance to prevent the prince from taking the throne. Thus, our tale begins, as the day breaks through the rolling hills of the countryside; Prince Evan receives joyous news.
The sky blooms pink as sweet as a blossom, orange as the embers of a flame. The beginning of another peaceful morning in Andalasia. The sound of hoof beats, echoing across the valley, comes to a slow stop as the edge of the winding forest comes into view. Dust wafts in the air as the lone rider slides off their horse and to the valley floor. Strong armored shoulders standing tall and proud, stride towards the looming trees of the woods. Without a sound, the cinnamon mane swishes behind the horse as it follows the man. Side by side they walk deeper, and deeper into the growing dark. The scorching heat and rays of sunlight are steadily being drowned out by the cover of the trees. For several long moments they trot along in complete and utter darkness. When eventually, they hear the sweet tune of mourning doves, cooing a song that feels like a welcome. Light shines in the distance, the sounds of rushing water, the chitter chatter of creatures of all walks of life. Breaking through the twisting bushes, finally, they have arrived. A smile takes shape across the lone riders’ face, shining, bright, and beautiful. Only then does the filly break away from her partner, freely galloping through the lush grass, plunging into the cascading river. Her whinny of delight grabs the attention of the surrounding wildlife, and like a switch, activates a chain reaction. Woodland animals breach the wall of trees, rushing to surround the lone rider. The man pulls down his hood, spinning around to greet them eagerly.
Only then, his face is clear to view. Deep blue eyes dazzle in the morning sun, warm pink cheeks flush. A kiss from mother nature lays upon his brow, a truly unique feature. Dirty blonde hair shines golden in the light. Somehow he becomes more beautiful the happier he gets. Crouching down, his arms spread out to give as much attention as he can handle. Warm, wide palms giving loving pets, doting on the adorable babies that whine for his company. Fawns, bunnies, doves, mice, skunks, and one lazy tortoise flock around the mountain of a man. Yet, somehow he’s able to scrunch himself down to sweetly greet his new companions. A true man of Mother Nature, loved so greatly by her that all of her children can sense his pure heart.
His voice, soft and gentle, rings out across the field, “Well, hello everyone. I’ve missed you all so very much.”A small animal scampers up his shoulder, scurrying along his arm and to his open palm. The blonde man chuckles, “And hello,again, to you Chip.”
Sitting perched on his palm, the chipmunk sits up. A frown comes across its furred face, frustrations wafts from him, “Where have you been! I’ve been worried sick, you’re never gone for this long Buck! Are you hurt? Did something happen? Is your sister back? Are the King and Queen giving you trouble again-”. A finger slowly pets the top of the rambling, puffy cheeked rodent. Calming him as Buck giggles at the fire shot sling questions. Classic chipmunk behavior.
“Whoa, whoa. Careful there Chip, I wouldn’t want you to run out of air.”, at which the chipmunk, somehow, puffs out his cheeks in dissatisfaction. The small animal starts tugging on the comforting fingers impatiently, wanting answers.
“Then, what's the hold up! It’s been a week, Buck, a WEEK! I made a new burrow and had no one to show it to! These mooches wouldn’t know a thing about underground decor!”. He swings a glare to all the wide eyed creatures surrounding them. They whine in displeasure, batting their eyelashes up at Buck. The scenario not unlike siblings tattling on each other in front of their mother. The lone rider shakes his head fondly, rolling his eyes in amusement.
Smiling down at his friend, blue eyes crinkling,”Come on Chip, leave the kids alone. Besides, I absolutely, positively have the best reason for why I was gone for sooo long buddy!”. Standing suddenly, Buck holds the rodent close, spinning in a wide circle before letting his arms twirl out. Chip, hanging on for dear life, grasps at the large thumb.
Oblivious to the qualms of his furry friend, he lets out a cheer,”Chip, Chip, Chip! It's happening, it’s finally happening!”
Voice wavering, wind cutting across his fur at highly intense speeds, for a small mammal that is, “Wha-What’s happening!? Could you maybe slow down prince-y boy”. All movement comes to a stop, as Buck lets out a small gasp. Bringing Chip close to him, a sheepish smile graces the blonde's face. Face flushed and chest heaving with enthusiasm, Buck cannot contain laughter, merry and bright.
“Sorry buddy, I’m just so excited. I can’t believe it’s finally happening!” He exclaims softly, “My parents finally trust me Chippy! I’m being accepted as their heir. They found me a Princess, I’ve met the love of my life and we are to be married tomorrow.”
Silence.
It s t r e t c h e s across the lush emerald field. Bounding trees sway as wind gently wisps leaves off their branches, floating downwards in a twirling cascade.
Silence.
The sloshing of the riverbed echos. The cinnamon mane of the filly drenched and dripping as she enjoys her escape from the once scorching blaze. Lazily listening in to the conversation, she was already made aware of, from the cool of the pool.
Noise erupts.
The cheers of joy from the baby animals surrounding Buck sound out. Birds of all shapes and sizes swoop down, chirping a happy tune of love. Magic twinkles across the sky as, even Mother nature herself celebrates at such joyous news. Anyone that would stumble upon this field, would be able to tell from miles away, something truly amazing just happened.
A small bunny thumps her foot, light grey fur poofing out in excitement,” Bucky, you mean it? You really mean it?” Her sweet voice, squeaky and bright.
A twin pair of red robins spins, twisting and turning in circles around the Blonde’s head,”You're going to have your True love’s Kiss!”, they tweet out in a jingle, wings fluttering. More woodland creatures flock out the woodwork in celebration. Their voices carried out like a song, singing out congratulations. Mother Nature's child is to be wed and the news is to be spread. From North to South, East to West. Every animal is the woods will know their beloved Prince has found the love of his life. Chip scurries up to the curly locks. Sighing happily, excited for his friend, the chipmunk peers down at the Prince. Hazel eyes meeting cobalt blue.
“What does your love look like Prince-y?” Chip flops down, for once in his life, waiting patiently. The rest of the animals crowd the man, like children settling in for story time, staring up at him in wonder. The Prince radiates such joyful energy, capable of attracting any creature to him. A trait only possessed by the most pure of heart.
“When I first saw her, I swear, I thought the heavens had sent down one of their angels. Just for me.” sighing softly, he continues the tale, staring out into the distance as his mind conjures their first meeting….
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 2 Days Ago ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prince Evan slides down the stone spiral staircase, humming a gentle melody. As a Knight and crowned Prince of Andalasia, he should have many many responsibilities. His days should have been filled with nonstop work and teachings fit for a future ruler. That, unfortunately, was not the case. In fact, he was the only royal child that has never received the monarchical dogma. Evan was unexpected, a surprise…unwanted. He wasn’t meant to be heir of the throne. He was the third born in the line of Buckley. He was the last option, now that his siblings are gone. He was a mistake. Once joyful humming comes to an abrupt halt, a fragile smile fading from pink lips. Evan's eyes fall close, eyelashes fluttering in anguish, a deep breath pushing itself out of his nose into the chilly stone hallway.
‘Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Maddie will come back, everything will be fine. I won’t need to take the crown. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts’ Evan thinks, air rushes into his lungs allowing his chest to puff out from the action. A sense of crippling loyalty for his country tugs at the very foundation of his being; tugging at his sense of self. Fingertips numb, an electric surge runs its way up his legs to the forefront of his skull. Chest cold, throat tight. A hummed vibration emits from the very center of him, hands forcibly relaxed. Air escapes from between his molars. A grin glides back on his charming face, unnoticeably strained by the passing eye.
“Happy thoughts” falls out of his mouth and into the lonely corridor. A performative skip returns to stride, as he moves towards the throne room with purpose. He has plans. Important plans. Well, he will, as soon as he can convince his Majesties he is worthy of their confidence. Perhaps it's something in the air but Evan has a feeling about today. Today everything will change for the better, the raging tide will shift for calmer waters; he knows it to be true. Magic thrums its chorus in the air, settling around him like a sheen of morning dew mist. It clings to his skin like a gentle embrace, a declaration of love and a promise of protection. It has always been this way, as far as his memory reaches. Mother nature has held him close to her bosom, gifting him with a connection to her no other holds. The Prince doesn’t know what will happen but he hears the message in the air as clear as day. ‘Something extraordinary is about to happen’.
Double black-wood doors loom, dark as the peek of night. The sight brought a shiver to the top of his spine, settling at the back of his sweaty neck. Wiping at his brow, he brings his palm forward. Creating an opening at the entry way just wide enough to get his armored shoulders through. Quiet murmurs float through the immense room. Strong marble pillars fall in a straight line, guiding one's eye to the front of the room where twin thrones shine golden and awe-inspiring. A small audience gathers, advisors and country men. People of high regard Evan couldn’t last remember congregating all at once. Has something happened? Was there a call to arms? Did he miss a meeting…..was-was he not told? Doubt spreads through his mind like a disease, as he walks forward meeting the edge of the crowd. Closer than before, he notices new faces.
‘Strange’, he thinks, before he can continue the thought; the Court Herald announcement startles him out of his pondering. A hush fell throughout the room, a pin drop would sound like rolling thunder.
“Welcoming his and her Majesties. King Phillip Buckley and Queen Margaret Buckley.”, the Herald calls out proudly, in that endearing warbling tone of his.
Strolling in like living marble statues, cold and imposing, his parents settle in their seats. Their gazes passed over him like just another face in the crowd. A ghost in a room full of warm, living bodies. Business as usual. Just on the wrong side of numb, the continued proceedings fly over Evan’s head as he struggles to keep his head above water. The only thing tugging him from the murky depths is a sharp call of his name.
“Prince Evan”
It's short. Called out with an air of exasperation.
“Were you listening, or are you not capable?”
The low feminine tone does not soften the blow.
Cowing, head bowed down, shoulders straight and tensed. At attention yet, appeasing. Unlike the cover of bodies he had before, now a wide gap has appeared. Giving the King & Queen a direct line of sight to the sweet Prince. Throat dry, he struggles to force the lump down his larynx. Sweat beads on his brow, yet again.
“Yes, of course my Queen.”, he says. Strong, practiced, performative.
“.....Good. Now as I was saying, the royal court has come to a decision. Our neighboring kingdom, Balastali, will soon be arriving. Discussions have gone well, it has been decided. Prince Evan will be betrothed to Princess Taylor and in two days time will be married forthwith. Bringing our two nations together, and a new age of peace for all our people.” Every eye in the room burns with their touch, sliding over his skin like molten fire. Nature’s touch surrounds him yet again, cooling him from his toes to ears. Marriage. Married? He is to be married to a woman he’s never met, in two rotations of the sun.
The Queen, skin wrinkled with age; telling of the length she has walked this land. Skirt flows down, pillowing the floor in elegance, becoming of her stature. Blood red fabric makes up the gown, a corset black as night with stark white embroidment dons the long sleeves. Their family colors, not that he himself is normally adorned with them. Her hair, an ashen blonde, was held tightly away from her forehead; up in intricate braids twisting around her bun. Face posed in a set position of regal honor. Proud. A look never before directed at him. Not until today. The Queen steps done, slow and precise. She strolls forward until she is just in front of, close enough to touch. He can’t remember the last time they’ve been this close. Gently, she raises her arm, laying her palm just underneath his jaw. Her hand is cold and small, has it always felt this tiny to him? He can’t even begin to remember, his mind whirling, prey instincts clawing their way to the forefront of his skull. Clearly, his body has chosen ‘freeze’ as its best chance at survival. Imagine that, such a small woman putting the fear of god into such a massive beast of a Knight, just by laying a hand on his face. If his Majesties could peek into his head just then, their disappointment would be immense. An unfamiliar, kind smile crosses her face. Eye lines crinkling, raising her head up slightly when meeting his downward gaze.
“You, my son, will carry on this line, for the future of Andalasia. Your duty to this country has begun. When Princess Taylor arrives I expect you to be a part of the welcoming party at the gates. She is to be your future queen, and you will treat her as such. This union of hearts will progress us into a new age; Your marriage will feed the bellies of the hungry, house those of the poor, stuff our nation's pockets full and stop wars. You, my son, will make us proud.”, Her words flow out perfectly like the delicate strokes of an artist. Purposeful and full of promise. Magical. Evan melts into her hand, like a puppet with its strings snipped. Some parts of his body are still wooden and tense, fighting the mind’s plead to…..
‘Let Go’ ‘Be Calm’
‘Mother is here’
‘Relax’
‘This Is What You Wanted’
‘This Is What We’ve Been Waiting For’
‘Why Can’t You Just Enjoy It’
Just as soon as the sudden warmth came, it left. His jaw is left cold even as her frigid hand leaves his face. A reminder of all he ever wanted, yet still not quite right. He’s left reeling and bewildered, unsure of how to hold himself up after she clipped his strings. Awkwardly, he rightens himself as she spins away. Time begins again, as if the action outside the status quo never happened in the first place. A momentary lapse of judgment or perhaps, maybe...something more? Turning her back on him like a closing door. She glides to her throne, where the King waits, silently regarding him passively; until he too, shifts his gaze to other important matters. Life unpauses, the clock ticks on and continued discussions of the wedding are spoken, not to him but at him. He nods in agreement when it's expected, stares at the wall and ponders silently. This, this is his chance. This has to be what the universe was telling him earlier. The opportunity he’s been waiting for, a chance for his parents to look at him with pride and love shining in their eyes. An acknowledgment that he is their child, a member of the Buckley royal line. Something to be held and coveted, not hidden away in shame. A way to finally service his people, to actually be allowed to help people. God, he just wants to be useful to somebody, anybody. Yes, he will be marrying a stranger but, if it's for the good of Andalasia and her beautiful people? Then, he’ll do it. He would marry her hundred times over, get on his knees and beg for her hand.
With that thought he straightens his spine, skin dry and warm. Shoulders back, head held high. Prince Evan Buckley, a Knight of Andalasia shining silver and golden in the cascading light from the castle's windows. A grin grows on his face, real for the first time that day. Mind settled on the matter, giving him a confidence he hasn’t felt since he completed his knighthood.
The tide has shifted. He might just find his way back to the shore.