#vds royalty au

[peaceoutofthepieces]

you were my crown

chapter 10

~^~

Jens hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Lucas.

This was not exactly anything new, but the shift in the manner of his thoughts was what brought him concern. Wanting to take care of Lucas was nothing new. Even wanting to do so in the privacy of Jens’s room, to lock him away somewhere he’d be comfortable and protected, was not an unfamiliar feeling.

Wanting to hold on to Lucas, to keep him safe in the crook of his arms and the hollows of his heart, was a frighteningly new sensation.

Jens, as the prince, was used to being somewhat lonely. The royal family had subjects, comrades, allies. They didn’t have many friends. Jens had gotten lucky that Senne and he genuinely got along well. It was convenient that Moyo and Aaron were his and Robbe’s age and the children of nobles his mother trusted. Robbe himself was a borderline miracle, and he’d eventually brought Jens Sander, too. Jens was lucky, and he would never claim otherwise. He knew the gift he’d been handed in each of these relationships and he would fight tooth and nail to keep them all.

He clung onto all the people in his life with a tight grasp, but none of them compared to how desperately he desired to keep Lucas.

Keep reading on Ao3

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #prince!jens au #vds royalty au #ywmc #4 chapters and an epilogue left! #next chapter will be a special vds-only one :)

[infiniteiram]

Fock the Government.

a vds one shot. you can find more on my ao3.

( @ apolloswords )

feel free to comment/message me any suggestions for one shot ideas!

As the castle opens its gates for the people to attend the Prince’s Coronation Ball, Lucas stands in front of them, wondering if he has a shot at his own fairytale.

“You guys, check this out!” Lucas heard Jayden announce from a few feet away.

Directing his attention off of the conversation he and Kes were just having, Lucas nodded at Jayden, who was making his way over to the large fountain in the middle of the village square. People bustled about, trying to get the last bit of goods they could get their hands on before the marker would eventually close for the night. The early colours of the sunset began to pain the sky as Lucas felt its warm touch linger onto his face as he fiddled with the golden ring on his finger, the rose quartz stone glistening under the sunset’s colours.

“Whatcha got there?” Kes asked as he noticed the piece of paper Jayden was waving in his hand.

Sliding across the fountain’s rim to sit beside Lucas, who was now in the middle of his two friends, Jayden flicked the piece paper towards them, so they could read it themselves.

“Hither for the Coronation Ball for Prince Jens!” Kes dramatically read out. “To Happen in a Fortnight!”

They all snickered at the poster, an image of the castle imprinted onto it as it stated the times that guests could arrive and possible snag a dance with the Prince Jens himself.

“Where did you get this?” Lucas asked, trying to gasp for air in between his laughs.

“A bunch of them got delivered to the postal shop today and we have to hang them up tomorrow. I snagged one so I could give you guys an exclusive sneak peak.”

Kes snorted. “I can’t believe it’s time for someone else in that stupid Royal Family to take reign. As if anything is going to change and they’re just going to take all of the town’s money to feed their rich asses while we’re forced to starve.”

“Even worse because Prince Jens knows nothing about the town.” Lucas added.

The other two boys looked at him, raising their eyebrows in suspicion. Lucas looked at them, confused at their confusion.

“You guys don’t know? Prince Jens hasn’t even lived here since he turned ten. He left for some prestigious boarding school in another country to learn about how to run a kingdom and was to return in eight years to take reign.” He explained before muttering under his breath. “Sounds stupid if you ask me. How are you going to run a kingdom you haven’t even properly experienced?”

“The monarchy is a joke.” Jayden replied. “Nothing but flaunting their power and richness. You know what? I bet you this Prince Jens isn’t even all that. He probably looks like he’s part ogre or giant or something.”

“Please, let’s not disrespect the ogres and giants like that.” Lucas scoffed. “As far as I know, the ogres and giants I know hold more brain cells than the entire Royal Family combined.”

“Has anyone ever actually seen what he looks like?” Kes asked.

“Nah, he was only every really shown at birth and then practically locked up in the castle before he left. There aren’t any paintings of him either.” Lucas replied.

“Hey check it out.” Jayden said, looking back at the invitation. “It says it’s a Masquerade Ball.”

“Sounds even more stupid.” Lucas snorted.

“So I guess that definitely means we aren’t going.” Jayden laughed.

Kes shook his head. “Us? I think they would kick us out upon even entering the castle. Everyone knows how much we go against everything they stand for. We’re literally the face of every protest and resistance.”

“They wouldn’t even know it was us though with the mask on anyway.” Lucas pointed out. “Theoretically speaking, we could definitely get in.”

Hopping up from his spot, Jayden crawled over behind Lucas and Kes, careful not to fall off the fountain’s ledge and into the water. After shuffling around a bit to create space, Jayden crouched down and threw his arms around them. Pulling them in closer, Lucas noticed the mysterious smirk on his face before he lowered his voice.

“Well then we could get in no problem.” He snickered. “Come on, the whole kingdom is going to be there. Once they figure out how much of a joke Prince Jens is for the future of our kingdom, we can direct them into a revolution. Think of what this means for the people of the village.”

“You don’t really think that’s going to happen do you?” Lucas asked. “We can’t just start a revolution by sneaking into the palace. Plus it isn’t even sneaking in if we’re allowed to be there.”

Kes responded with a glint in his eye. “There’s only one way to find out.”

“Fuck the government though.” Jayden explained.

“Yeah,” Lucas said under his breath. “Fuck the government.”

-

True to their words, the three of them found themselves staring at the large castle doors, open for people to enter. Many people moved pass them, eager to get to the ball in their gorgeous dresses and suits with matching masquerade masks. Lucas could hardly recognize anyone, except for his friends.

The blue mask adorned with silver detailing and jewels on his face seemed to give him a sense of confidence. While Lucas was one to speak his thoughts freely and feel secure with himself, there was something magical about people not knowing who he was. He could be anyone he wanted. While his friends and him had only intended to come to the Coronation Ball as a mere joke, he couldn’t help but start to think that it all started to seem like a fairytale.

Eventually, they had passed the guards and arrived to the actual ball, where the guests danced, converses, drank and ate gloriously, like this was their only night in paradise. Lucas would often take some glances around, spotting his friends dance with girls in their big dresses as their hair flowed past their shoulders. Trying not to feel like he didn’t belong, Lucas then made it a little game to see if he could figure out which person at the ball was Prince Jens. Was it the man in green, flirting by the table filled with cake? The man in a deep purple, twirling a lovely maiden all over the dance floor? Or maybe it was the man in a darker shade of blue, talking to some of the Lords and Lady’s that have travelled for tonight’s celebration?

Whoever it was, Lucas quickly realized he had no interest being here for much longer. Fancy celebrations and elaborate clothing? That wasn’t really his scene of things. Making sure to give Kes a look across the dance floor, he gestured his head that he would be out on the deserted balcony if they were to need him.

The night air gave him a sense of relief as he walked outside. There were no guards around and nobody seemed to have noticed his getaway. Granted, Lucas did slip out a window he had managed to open and the thick velvet drapes practically hid him already. There was nobody even remotely interested enough to be watching him.

Sitting down on the little stone bench on the balcony, he let his attention focus on the view. In the horizon, he could almost see the entirety of the village. The lanterns that lit up the street made entire place give off a soft glow and Lucas could even see some of the houses warmly lit up. There was a sense of love in his heart, as he thought about how much he loved the village and its people. How much he wanted the best for them and would stop at nothing to get it.

“Didn’t think anyone else would be out here.” A warm chuckle came from behind him and a very startled Lucas turned around.

The stranger who stood behind him was wearing a deep red suit with intricate golden details and a matching masquerade mask that covered the top half of his face. But despite the dimness of the night, Lucas still managed to make out some of the facial features. Soft dark pink lips, almost a muted mauve colour and looked like they felt like the thick velvet curtains. A structured jawline matched the smirk of the stranger’s lips and deep brown eyes seemed to take a liking towards him. Based on the lean bur obviously built structure of the stranger’s body, Lucas quickly figured he couldn’t be any further from his own age.

Lucas also quickly figured out that despite not being able to see the entirety of his face, there was no doubt that a handsome boy was behind the mask.

“I don’t think I expected to find anyone else here either.” Lucas said with a light laugh, trying not to let the sudden nervous feeling overwhelm him.

“Well mind if I join you?” The stranger asked as he pointed to the empty spot beside Lucas.

“Sure.” He replied, surprised him easy that answer had come to him.

Once the stranger sat down, Lucas felt a fuzzy feeling in his chest. While the stranger looked over to the horizon, Lucas took this chance to study him up close, the way his chest moved up and down with his slow relaxed breathing and the way his fingers tapped gently on his leg, like he was playing a melody to a song.

“What brings you out here?” Lucas finally asked, breaking their silence.

“Not too big on the whole ballroom scene.” He replied with a laugh. “I actually didn’t really want to come tonight.”

“Oh really? Me neither to be honest. My friends and I kind of came as a joke but at least they’re having fun.”

“And you aren't?”

Shrugging, he replied with another chuckle. “I mean, it’s not so bad. But I can only watch them dance for so long that I start feeling bad.”

“You don’t dance?”

“I mean I do, I can.” Lucas admitted. “I just don’t have anyone to dance with.”

The stranger stood up and extended his hand to him, as Lucas looked up at him suspiciously. But there was the same smirk on his face, one that seemed very sure and confident it what he was doing.

“Will you dance with me?” The stranger asked. “The music is much quieter but at least out here it is just the two of us.”

Biting his lip, Lucas shyly placed his hand in his. It was a bit larger but the grip he had on his felt safe and secure, like his hold was honest and pure. He followed as he was lead to a little open space, where the moonlight illuminated the both of them.

The other boy placed his hand gently on the dip of Lucas’ back as he extended their hands out. Trying not to let his hand shake, Lucas placed it gently on the stranger’s shoulder, trying to ignore how one, sparks instantly flew this body at the touch and two, his much Lucas was beginning to enjoy his touch.

The two of them quickly began to move in the flow of the music, twirling and spinning under the light of the moon and the shadows of the night. Their bodies seemed to be made for each other, as they moved with such grace that they hardly even seemed like they were two separate people. Lucas could start to feel his heart race at this connection, and based on the smile on the stranger’s lips, he assumed he felt the same. The smile was also beautiful under the kiss of the moon, a sort of radiance that Lucas would find impossible to forget.

“Are you from the village?” Lucas asked, as they continued to dance.

He shook his head. “Not really. I lived elsewhere for many years.”

“Do you come from far away? Do you have a title I must refer to you by?” He didn’t think any other commoners came from the ball, but maybe people of other villages made the trip for the royal night.

A low laugh escaped the lips of the stranger. “That doesn’t matter. Let’s just enjoy this night for what it is. Are you from the village?”

A bit confused by the rather vague answer, Lucas decided just to ignore it. After all, it wasn’t like any connection between them would disappear after tonight. Nothing but a mere memory.

“I am.” He replied with a nod. “Born and raised.”

“Ah, so I take it you know the people and place very well?”

“Like the back of my hand.” Lucas said before he frowned.

“Why do you frown at that?” The boy asked, instantly taking note at the change of behaviour.

“The Royal Family.” He sighed. “They often forget their own people and leave us fending for their scraps. We deserve better than that.”

“And you think you could give them better?”

“No. I am nothing but one of them. I hold no title, no power. But it is in my best interest to try.”

“And would you? If you were given the chance?”

“With my whole heart.”

This answer seemed to please the stranger, as he opened his mouth to speak as though he was admitting a secret. But they were quickly interrupted with a familiar voice shouting out to Lucas.

“Hey!” Kes hollered from behind him. “We have to go. Now! The guards think there are people against the monarchy and we are not going to wait until they find out we can be associated.”

Turning to face the stranger, Lucas quickly released himself from his grip. “I’m sorry I have to go.” He apologized, before turning away and running after Kes.

“Wait!” The stranger called out, grabbing onto the cuff of Lucas’ suit, pulling him in. “How can I find you?”

Scared to give out his name, in case it would ruin his chance at a good alibi and quickly blow his cover, Lucas slipped off his rose quartz ring and placed it gently in his hand.

“Keep this. If you go to the villages’ book shop tomorrow, present this ring to me. Then I will know it is you.” He whispered.

“But-“ The other boy began to say before Lucas cut him off.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized as he began to walk away. “I have to go.”

No matter how much he wanted to, Lucas didn’t look back. He didn’t want to see what he had left behind.

A beautiful night and a beautiful dance with the most beautiful person his heart had come to known.

-

“Rumour has it Prince Jens is coming to town today.” Jayden laughed as Lucas and Kes stacked a new set of books onto the shelves.

“Where did you hear that?” Kes laughed, like that statement was very far from the truth.

“Whole town is talking.” He shrugged. “Rumour also has it that he met someone last night. One of us, which is why he’s coming. To look for them. Can you believe it?”

“No.” Kes laughed again, shaking his head in pure amusement. “To be honest though, nobody seemed to know who he was last night. The whole mask thing seemed to make everyone a stranger.”

“Speaking of strangers,” Jayden noted, gesturing towards Lucas, who was only halfway listening to the conversation. “Who were you dancing with last night?”

Not bothering to turn around to face Jayden and continue shaking the book shelf, Lucas just shrugged.

“I don’t know.” He mumbled. “It doesn’t really matter now though.”

It wasn’t that Lucas didn’t want to admit it happened, but it was that Lucas couldn’t even believe it had happened. The whole night felt something out of a dream, a sequence too good to be true. However, even though he knew it really happened, Lucas didn’t want to think about how it may never happen again.

The book shop’s door suddenly opened, taking all three of them by surprise. The figure quickly closed the door behind him, and it was then Lucas realized all the cheering and hollering coming front outside. Even though Kes and Jayden seemed just as confused at the situation, Jayden got up from the desk he was sitting on and shut the shop’s window shutters in attempt to drown out the noise from the crowd.

Now all three of them states at the figure in front of them. He was tall, lean and built with a strong structure. Although his clothes seemed rather ordinary, a white flowing top and brown pants, he seemed to stand with as though he was of royalty.

“Hi.” The stranger finally spoke, only to lay his deep brown eyes straight towards Lucas. “I’m Jens.”

“Prince Jens?” Kes asked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” He confirmed, still not looking away from Lucas. “Prince Jens.”

For some reason, Lucas found himself speechless. It wasn’t because the literal prince of the kingdom was right of him and he didn’t ever prepare for actually meeting a member of the monarchy, but that there was something eerily familiar about him. The way he stood, the way his words sounded like a harmonious melody, the way his mauve lips turned upwards to a small smile and how his deep brown eyes looked into Lucas’ blue ones, like he was the only one in the room.

Like it was just the two of us. He suddenly thought.

And suddenly, Lucas realized where he knew him from.

Prince Jens was the stranger from last night.

“Your Highness.” Lucas breathed out as he dropped the book from his hands and approached Jens slowly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“It’s alright.” Jens answered with a smile. “There are no need for apologies. I only came here to ask for your name.”

“Lucas.” He replied quickly. “Lucas van der Heijden.”

“Well Lucas,” Jens said with a warm smile. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“You too.” He breathed out again, still in a state of shock. “May I ask what you’re doing here Your Highness?”

“Please, it’s just Jens.” He assured, stepping a little closer and lowering his voice. “I came looking for you?”

“Me?” Lucas squeaked out.

A laugh escaped Jens’ lips as he let his eyes wander and marvel at the boy in front of him.

“You’re so much more beautiful than I envisioned.” Jens whispered. “I knew you were beautiful from behind the mask, but I never thought one could be as beautiful as you are in front of me.”

“You’re beautiful too.” Lucas softly admitted. “A lot.”

This answer seemed to make Jens beam. “My Lucas, I came here not only to find you but to also tell and ask you of something.”

“Of course. Anything.”

“After speaking with you last night, I finally found clarity in what I plan to do now that I have a say in power. And it is that I am not yet ready or worthy to lead a great nation such is ours.” He explained. “I have decided to set my reign back one more year, in hopes that I can prepare better for it.”

“And what will you do in the mean time?”

“Well, I plan to be more connected with the people, especially those of this village who live so close to the kingdom. And I would like you to help me with that, to teach me the ways of life here.”

“Me?” Lucas squeaked out again.

“Yes, you.” Jens nodded. “All my life, I have been taught how to be a King, to rule and to lead. Bur anyone can be taught the legalities of ruling, the mechanics and principles to lead with power.” He looked at Lucas gently. “But not everyone can be taught to lead with their heart.”

“Are you sure I’m the right one to help you with this?”

“You are the right one for me.” Jens assured.

“What would I have to do?”

“Well every day, you would show me what should be done better. What needs change and reform. How better we can distribute the wealth. You can show me what you people treasure most, what we should pay more attention to and what we should aid to.”

“How do I know your words are true?”

Jens smiled. “Because, every night, when we are done learning about the people, I would like to learn about you. Who you are, where you came from and where you want to go.” Pulling his hand out of his pocket, Jens held up a dainty rose quartz ring that glistened in light of the shop. “And if you would like to dance with me, under the moonlight. Just the two of us.”

Even before seeing the ring, Lucas knew deep in his heart that Jens’ words were true. Stepping forward, leaving only a few inches between them, Lucas nodded.

“Okay,” He decided. “When do we start?”

“Whenever you finish putting those books on the shelves.”

“Oh.” Lucas snorted. “That’s easy.” Turning his head around, he hollered at Kes, who had been watching the whole interaction happen in front of him as he leaned against the book shelves. “Kes! Finish up for me okay?”

Rolling his eyes, Kes huffed some air out of his mouth. “Whatever happened to fuck the government huh?” He teased playfully.

Grinning, Jens winked at all of them, but mostly at Lucas as he confidently flicked his thumb and Lucas’ hands quickly caught the ring with ease.

“Don’t worry.” Jens assured. “I’m sure we can still make that happen.”

#vds #van der stoffels #vds fic #vds one shot #vds first meet #first meet #first inter #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #wtfock #skam nl #ao3 #ao3 fic #read on ao3 #fantasy au #alternate universe #fantasy alternate universe #royalty #royals #monarchy #rebellion #but kinda #there is a prince tho #hehe #anti government #its acc kinda funny #luc kes and jayden are funny #that is all

[vdsweek]

VDS Week 2020

So, based on the response to the survey, I’ve decided to make this page to host VDS Week. Nothing will change other than all the content will be reblogged here for everyone to find it more easily.

I’ve also decided, based on the responses I got and the date of Elippo week, that VDS Week will be held from the 10th-16th August. I hope this gives people time to create content (especially after finishing schoolwork) while also not seeming too far away!

Please tag everything #vdsweek2020 so I can reblog it!

The layout is as follows:

Monday, 10/08 - Fics / Headcanons

Tuesday, 11/08 - Soulmates / Coming Out

Wednesday, 12/08 - GIFs / Edits

Thursday, 13/08 - Roommates / Enemies/Friends to Lovers

Friday, 14/08 - First Meeting / Aged-Up

Saturday, 15/08 - Art / Playlist

Sunday, 16/08 - AU

Notes:

As with the previous VDS Week, you do not have to take part in every day! I have included two prompts in most days to give a broader choice while still giving everyone something to work with. You can do something for one prompt or the other, or separate things for both, or one work combining the prompts — it’s all up to your interpretation! If you feel like making multiple works for one prompt, that’s okay too!

For ‘AU’ day — this is basically a free day, since everything VDS is AU, but this is an opportunity to pick your favourite ‘out there’ idea and create it. Whether you want to do a Harry Potter AU, or a famous AU, or a royalty AU, whatever you like! This can again be manifested in any form - fics, gifs, moodboards, playlists, etc. It may be a good opportunity to collaborate!

On days with fics/gifs/art - please feel free to take this as a literal prompt. Fic day does not mean you have to write a fic. You can create anything inspired by this prompt. GIFs or art based on a fic, a social media edit in which Jens/Lucas is a fic writer, etc etc, anything you like! Same for GIF/art day - if your comfort zone is fics, write something based on a gif set or a piece of art!

Going off the previous point, please feel free to collaborate. Contact another content creator and suggest a fic edit you have that they could make gifs of, or vice versa! Many responses I got when I asked what the best aspect of the first VDS week was simply said the fandom. Talk to each other, support each other, create with each other! If you don’t want to reach out to a particular person, send an ask to this page with your idea, or even contact me personally and I will try to help! (Here or on @peaceoutofthepieces.)

If you have any questions, please don’t be afraid to ask! Anonymously, directly, however you feel most comfortable. If there is anything else that comes to mind or I discover I’ve left out, I’ll update you.

Create, collaborate, and have fun!

#van der stoffels #vds #vdsweek2020

[bloojayoolie]

Andrew Bogut, Children, and Click: Dutchess Super sweet, bouncy, friendly, & wiggly throwaway mama dreams of a better life "I'm a Social Group Greeter Dog! ID 29593 5 Yrs, 48 lbs Dreamingof a Family to Love Her, Brooklyn ACC TO BE KILLED – 6/15/2018 Is there anything sadder than a poor throwaway mama? Dutchess should have been treated like a Dutchess, but it seems this sweet, wiggly girl was used as an ATM machine for the money her puppies would bring and then she was shoved into the sheet (or just dropped at the shelter as a "stray" so they didn't have to pay a drop fee) to die. She arrived at the shelter full of milk, her babies ripped from her, and all we have is her one intake photo, but in it you can see that she is sitting politely on command, and allowing them to take her picture. There is confusion in her eyes, because she has no idea where she is or why this is happening to her. She most likely spent 5 years of her life with her family, and though it was probably not ideal, it was a routine she could count on. She has been super wiggly, friendly and social at the shelter, and she is SO good with other dogs that she has been utilized as a “Social Group Greeter Dog.” There she engaged in flirtatious, bouncy, gentle play with all but the most fearful pups, and if any rude boy got too obnoxious she offered them an appropriate correction and was back to play style. Please help this sweet girl live. PRIVATE MESSAGE our page or email us at [email protected] if you can foster or adopt Dutchess and save her life. It’s about time she was treated like royalty, surrounded by a family who will give her all the happiness her heart can hold. Thrones welcome! DUTCHESS, ID # 29593, @ 5 Yrs. Old, 48.8 lbs. Brooklyn ACC, Medium Mixed Breed, Gray, Unaltered Female I came to the shelter as a: Stray, 5/29/2018 Shelter Assessment Rating: Adult Only Home (Recommend no children under Age 13) Intake Behavior Rating: 1. Green AT RISK MEMO: N/A SHELTER ASSESSMENT – DATE OF ASSESSMENT, 5/31/2018 Look:: 2. Dog pulls out of Assessor's hands each time without settling during three repetitions. Sensitivity: 1. Dog stands still and accepts the touch, eyes are averted, and tail is in neutral position with a relaxed body posture. Dog's mouth is likely closed for at least a portion of the assessment item. Tag:: 4. Dog stands his/her ground while not cornered and barks at the Assessor with ears forward, body stiff, mouth closed and lips pursed when not barking. Paw squeeze 1:: 1. Dog gently pulls back his/her paw. Paw squeeze 2:: 1. Dog gently pulls back his/her paw. Toy:: 1. Dog settles close, keeps a firm grip and is loose and wiggly. Dog does not place his/her body between you and the toy. Summary:: Dutchess came into the assessment room calm and quiet, she was friendly and wiggly. She showed some concerns during the tag item, Dutchess would constantly bite the leash and become easily aroused with her body a bit tense. She would also slowly de-escalate from mouthy the leash and needed a distraction. PLAYGROUP NOTES – DOG TO DOG SUMMARIES: Dutchess was surrender as a stray so her past behavior with other dogs is unknown. 5/30: When off leash at the Care Centers, Dutchess enters the pens with a soft wiggly body. She exchanges muzzle sniffs, then mounts the male greeter. After handlers interrupt, Dutchess explores the yard the rest of her session. 5/31: Today Dutchess was utilized as a greeter. She displays a soft wiggly body with most dogs, but barks at fearful dogs that move away from her. She engages in flirtatious bouncy gentle play, occasionally mounting between bouts, and offers appropriate corrections when the energy level increases beyond her comfort level. BEHAVIOR AT INTAKE, Date of intake - 5/29/2018, Summary:: Unknown BEHAVIOR AT INITIAL MEDICAL, Date of initial - 5/30/2018, Summary:: Calm and allowed all handling. ENERGY LEVEL:: Dutchess displays a very high activity level in the care center. BEHAVIOR DETERMINATION:: ADULT ONLY HOME Behavior Asilomar: TM - Treatable-Manageable Recommendations:: No children (under 13) Recommendations comments:: No children: Due to the level of mouthiness and poor bite inhibition Dutchess displays, we believe she would be best set up to succeed in an adult only home at this time. Potential challenges: : Basic manners/poor impulse control,Mouthiness/poor bite inhibition,Leash-biting Potential challenges comments:: Leash-biting: Dutchess has been observed to become overstimulated at times on leash; fixating on the leash, jumping up high. She has not been easy to distract or refocus and is slow to recover. We recommend only positive reinforcement, reward-based training to build positive associations with the leash and to teach alternate behaviors to leash biting, as well as a front-clip harness or head halter to help manage this behavior. Basic manners/poor impulse control: It is recommended that default behaviors such as "Leave it", "Sit/Stay", "Down" are reinforced to substitute any frustration and teach Dutchess to control her impulses instead of simply reacting; proper management is also advised. Force-free, reward based training only is recommended. Mouthiness/poor bite inhibition: While she applies only light pressure, Dutchess was mouthy throughout the assessment and is quick to put her teeth on skin. This is likely an attention-seeking behavior, but it should be replaced with an alternative behavior as it can frighten people. We recommend never playing with bare hands – always with a toy - and ending play or attention whenever Dutchess puts teeth on skin. She should be rewarded with attention and treats when she stops and/or when she is seeking attention in alternate ways. MEDICAL NOTES: VET NOTES: 31/05/2018 DVM Intake Exam Estimated age: 5 yr History : stray Subjective: stray Observed Behavior - friendly, hyperactive takes treats readily Evidence of Cruelty seen - none Evidence of Trauma seen -none Objective BARH mm pink P = WNL R = WNL BCS 4/9 EENT: Eyes clear, ears clean, no nasal or ocular discharge noted Oral Exam:adult dentition PLN: No enlargements noted H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupnic ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated U/G: engorged MG, active lactation in caudal teats, milky white discharge, no vulva discharge MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Rectal: not performed Assessment thin however healthy, recently ( within 2 months ) post partum Prognosis: very good Plan: ok for surgery, body wall easily palpated SURGERY: Okay for surgery 4/06/2018 Progress exam History : stray intake 5/31-post partum and thin otherwise APH Subjective: Hematuria noted on rounds board. BARH. Sneezing but no nasal/ocular d/c. Urinated during exam with some clots-also has serosanguineous vulvar d/c and appears to be in heat. Objective: P = WNL R = WNL BCS 4/9 EENT: Eyes clear, ears clean, no nasal or ocular discharge noted PLN: No enlargements noted H/L: NSR, Grade 2/6 HM PMI L apical index, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupneic, sneezing ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated U/G: serosanguineous vulvar d/c with hooded vulva, no MGTs, lactating with developed mammae MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Assessment Lactating Serosanguineous vulvar d/c r/o in heat vs UTI vs stones vs other Grade 2/6 HM Prognosis: Good Plan: UA-RBC 250, 1+ bilirubin, 3+ proteinuria, 2+ ascorbic acid, WBC ca 500 Rec sending Ua to Antech for analysis CTM-if does not resolve rec BW and repeat UA Rec echocardiogram before spay 5/06/2018 [Spay/Neuter Waiver - Medical Condition] Your newly adopted pet has been diagnosed with a heart murmur and the staff veterinarians are issuing a permanent waiver from the spay/neuter requirements of the City of NY. Follow up care at your regular veterinarian is recommended to ensure continued treatment. Your veterinarian will advise you if surgical sterilization is appropriate. 5/06/2018 H:Monitor for CIRDC, possibly in heat S: BAR, consistent sneezing, no coughing, no vd. Eyes: Unremarkable OU Ears: Unremarkable AU. Nasal Cavity: Very mild serous nasal discharge Lungs: Eupneic Musculoskeletal: Ambulatory x 4 with no appreciable lameness. BCS = 5/9 Integument: Otherwise unremarkable haircoat. Neuro: Appropriate mentation. Rectal: Not performed. Externally normal. Assessment 1) Suspect early/mild CIRDC Plan: Move to iso, start Doxycycline 10 mg/kg SID x 14 days 12/06/2018 H:Recheck CIRDC day 7 S: BAR, consistent coughing and sneezing, no vd. Eyes: Unremarkable OU Ears: Unremarkable AU. Nasal Cavity: Mild serous nasal discharge Lungs: Eupneic Musculoskeletal: Ambulatory x 4 with no appreciable lameness. BCS = 5/9 Integument: Otherwise unremarkable haircoat. Neuro: Appropriate mentation. Rectal: Not performed. Externally normal. Assessment 1) CIRDC Plan: Continue treatment, recheck on day 10 LVT NOTES: 30/05/2018 [LVT Intake Microchip Scan: neg Evidence of Cruelty: no Observed Behavior- allowed handling Sex:FI, lactating Estimated Age: ~5-6 years Subjective: describe how he animal is presenting and any known history Eyes: clear Ears: wnl Oral Exam: teeth- stained and tartar, gingivitis Heart:wnl Lungs:wnl Abdomen- nsf Musculoskeletal: lactating, bcs- 5/9, no fleas/flea dirt Mentation: Barh, No abnormal neuro sign Preliminary Assessment: lactataing gingivitis Plan: needs dvm exam *** TO FOSTER OR ADOPT *** If you would like to adopt a dog on our “To Be Killed” list, and you CAN get to the shelter in person to complete the adoption process **within 48 hours of reserve**, you can reserve the dog online until noon on the day they are scheduled to die. We have provided the Brooklyn, Staten Island and Manhattan information below. Adoption hours at these facilities is Noon – 8:00 p.m. (6:30 on weekends) HOW TO RESERVE A “TO BE KILLED” DOG ONLINE (only for those who can get to the shelter IN PERSON to complete the adoption process, and only for the dogs on the list NOT marked New Hope Rescue Only). Follow our Step by Step directions below! **PLEASE NOTE – YOU MUST USE A PC OR TABLET – PHONE RESERVES WILL NOT WORK! *** STEP 1: CLICK ON THIS RESERVE LINK: https://newhope.shelterbuddy.com/Animal/List Step 2: Go to the red menu button on the top right corner, click register and fill in your info. Step 3: Go to your email and verify account Step 4: Go back to the website, click the menu button and view available dogs. It should read, "reserve in progress". That is YOUR reserve. Step 5: Scroll to the animal you are interested and click reserve STEP 6 ( MOST IMPORTANT STEP ): GO TO THE MENU AGAIN AND VIEW YOUR CART. THE ANIMAL SHOULD NOW BE IN YOUR CART! Step 7: Fill in your credit card info and complete transaction Animal Care Centers of NYC (ACC) nycacc.org HOW TO FOSTER OR ADOPT IF YOU **CANNOT** GET TO THE SHELTER IN PERSON, OR IF THE DOG IS NEW HOPE RESCUE ONLY! You must live within 3 – 4 hours of NY, NJ, PA, CT, RI, DE, MD, MA, NH, VT, ME or Norther VA. Please PRIVATE MESSAGE our page for assistance. You will need to fill out applications with a New Hope Rescue Partner to foster or adopt a dog on the To Be Killed list, including those labelled Rescue Only. Hurry please, time is short, and the Rescues need time to process the applications. Shelter contact information Phone number [phone] Email [email protected] Shelter Addresses: Brooklyn Shelter: 2336 Linden Boulevard Brooklyn, NY 11208 Manhattan Shelter: 326 East 110 St. New York, NY 10029 Staten Island Shelter: 3139 Veterans Road West Staten Island, NY 10309

#funny #lol #humor #memes #meme #memehumor #dank memes #funny pics #rolf #lmao #Andrew Bogut #Childre

[peaceoutofthepieces]

you were my crown

chapter 8

~^~

Instead of heading straight back to the castle the following day, they passed through Lucas’s village. Sander and Robbe must have noticed they were going in the wrong direction, but Robbe only frowned slightly and looked to Jens in question. When Jens gave a subtle nod, they followed along without a word.

Lucas didn’t notice until they were almost there, and then he turned to Jens in surprise. “Why are we going this way?”

Jens shrugged. “I didn’t promise I’d be back by a certain time, just that I’d be back today. Might as well make the most of it while we can.”

“That’s all?”

“I thought you’d want to see your friends.”

Lucas considered him for another few seconds, then focused on the road ahead again with a faint smile. Jens was probably too pleased with himself for the minor accomplishment, but he’d learned Lucas’s quietest joy seemed to be his truest. That minute expression spoke volumes. Jens imagined it would only expand further when he actually saw his friends.

Keep reading on AO3

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #sobbe #prince!jens au #vds royalty au #ywmc #i did it!

[peaceoutofthepieces]

you were my crown

chapter 9

~^~

Jens blinked bleary eyes open in time to see Lucas stumble. He caught himself by planting a steadying hand on the table, and Jens was beside him before he tried to move again. He took Lucas by the shoulders and guided him into the seat at the head of the table, where Jens himself usually sat, and crouched down in front of him, a rebuke already falling out. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Lucas eyed him. “Getting water.” His voice was hoarse; not groggy from sleep the way Jens’s was or simply suffering from disuse, but dry and croaky with sickness. Jens rose and filled a cup from the pitcher of water atop the locker by the door, then returned to Lucas and pressed it into his quivering hands.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he demanded as Lucas gratefully drank it down.

“I was going to once I’d gotten your breakfast.”

Keep reading on Ao3

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #prince!jens au #vds royalty au #ywmc #more sobbe in this one too folks 😌 #i said update today and meant it!! woohoo!! #now y’all may enjoy this before spending the weekend enjoying heartstopper with me 🥳 #(yes that is an order not a suggestion) #(please watch heartstopper!! it’s brilliant i promise!!!)

[peaceoutofthepieces]

you were my crown

chapter 5

Ao3

~^~ For the entire week, Lucas seemed to adjust well.

He knocked on Jens’s door and waited impatiently for Jens to drag himself out of bed before entering. (This might’ve had something to do with the guards, or it could be that Lucas actually was listening to him. Jens could know it was the first and still tell himself the latter.) He’d hesitantly started riding lessons with Sander, and seemed more upset about Jens always accompanying than his less-than-stellar capabilities. He’d taken to the duties of a servant without a hint of hesitation; his hands already knew their way around a stable, a wash basin, a bedroom. Jens could admit Lucas certainly had talented hands.

Jens also noticed that Lucas seemed to get along fine with most of the others. He and Sander seemed to get closer by the day, and he seemed to hold an easy respect for Robbe, softening every time in the face of the youngest’s kindness. He even shared an odd camaraderie with Lies that irritated Jens most.

Because of course, with Jens, he still insisted on being entirely insufferable.

It was made worse by the moments in between. They were rare, but Jens caught each and every one of them and clung on. Times he couldn’t help but laugh at one of Lucas’s smart remarks, even when they were always at his expense, and Lucas clammed up in surprise, staring at Jens with twitching lips. Lucas’s own laughter was even rarer, but even more appreciated. He would give a huff or snort at Jens’s expense on occasion; and then there were the blessed times when Lucas seemed to be feeling kind, and his lips curled in amusement along with Jens.

Jens thought they might have just settled into the jabs and barbs so quickly that it now seemed wrong to abandon them, and maybe they were actually forming their own deformed brand of friendship.

He couldn’t say he disliked it entirely. Some part of him had grown a little fond of Lucas’s teasing, when he realised there wasn’t much true malice behind it. Not often, anyway.

But it could be better, so this something wasn’t enough.

Jens rarely had the opportunity to get to know someone the way he could with Lucas. The only time he’d ever really made friends was with Moyo and Aaron, and even they were still based on circumstance. They were the only Lords’ sons his age around. Robbe, Senne, and Sander had all become close to him through necessary proximity. That didn’t mean he didn’t really love them, or thought they didn’t really love him, but it was different. It was another thing Jens thought had been handed to him. He knew if he was unlikable they still didn’t have to like him, but it was different.

Lucas was the first person Jens had chosen for himself.

He didn’t feel that the circumstances mattered in this instance. Jens had been the one to look at him and listen to him and choose not only to stand up for him, but to have him stand by his side. He didn’t know what it was, but something had drawn him to someone for the first time in his life.

And that someone was insistent on pushing him away.

But he wouldn’t let it hurt. Lucas was doing good—he was getting better by the day. That meant he was keeping himself safe. That was what mattered.

The morning Jens woke up on his own with the sun high behind the curtains was when he knew Lucas had finally messed up.

It was a fuzzy realisation in his half-asleep state, but he woke up quickly. He sprung into a sitting position and flitted his eyes around the room. Him, asleep; curtains closed; table devoid of breakfast. He didn’t know exactly what time it was, but he knew it wasn’t as early as usual.

Which meant Lucas was late.

Jens could do nothing more than sit in his confusion for the few minutes it took to hear a loud knock on the door. He stumbled out of bed, preparing himself to scold Lucas for being late. He was tripping over with his foot caught in the bedding when the door swung open, and now he was readying to scold Lucas for never waiting for permission.

But Lucas always waited, now, so that wasn’t right, either.

It wasn’t Lucas. It was Sander.

Jens stumbled free and managed to get out, “What—“

“The carriage never got here,” Sander interrupted without preamble. “It’s almost an hour late.”

“An hour?” Jens kicked his fallen bedding out of the way with a string of quiet profanities before walking closer to Sander. His heart picked up speed as his throat filled with questions. He asked, “Does she know?”

Sander nodded grimly.

Jens swore again and rushed to his wardrobe, flicking through in search of a worn tunic. “What do you know? Did you hear anything?”

“No. Like I said, the carriage hasn’t come. That could be the problem. It may never have even gotten there. It could have been raided, something could have happened the horses…anything.”

Jens considered. “It might not be Lucas.”

Sander shook his head, shrugging. “He could be trudging his way here, cursing you for messing up.”

“Let’s hope so,” Jens sighed, settling into his clothes before sitting down to shove on his boots. “Go look for him. Ride out; take Senne.”

Sander bowed slightly, then raised a brow. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try to convince my mother not to kill him when he does get here.”

“She can’t do anything if it’s a simple mistake, surely.”

Jens looked up at him, stood, and raised his brows back.

Sander pursed his lips and gave a curt nod. “Okay, I’m going.” He strode away, threw open the door, and almost rammed straight into Robbe.

Robbe clasped onto Sander’s shoulders and squeaked an apology, then said, “Jens. You need to come to the drawing room, right now.”

Jens didn’t waste any time arguing. He ushered Robbe to lead the way and followed after him, feeling Sander at his back. He knew what would be waiting for them, but he also didn’t have a clue. It was Lucas, one way or another. Something had happened to Lucas, or something was about to happen to Lucas.

Jens hoped that, either way, it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t need to give Lucas any more reasons to hate him.

“She’s not in the middle of killing him, is she?” Sander asked, optimistic as ever.

Robbe grimaced. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, actually. It’s not like that.”

“What?” Jens almost clipped Robbe’s heels, and slowed down only to have Sander step on the back of his boot. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Robbe pushed him into the drawing room, where his mother, Lies, and Lucas already stood, surrounding a woman who sat in one of the plush armchairs. It took Jens a second to realise it was Lucas’s own mother, Tess. She lit up when she saw him.

“Jens,” she greeted, all excited warmth, before catching herself. “Your Highness. It’s so lovely to see you again.”

Jens met Lucas’s eyes briefly, and they gave no indication of what was going on. Robbe and Sander lingered at the door, and Robbe gestured towards the hallway, silently telling Jens they would be nearby. Jens wanted him to stay, but he nodded in acknowledgment. As they left, he moved closer to the others and smiled as kindly as he could. “Tess,” he returned, wincing at the clear confusion in his voice. “Is everything alright? Can we do something for you?”

Her eyes widened and she quickly flapped a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m not here to ask anything of you. It’s just about Lucas. You understand, I can’t let him walk around alone, don’t you? It’s not safe.”

“Not safe,” Jens repeated, tilting his head, flickering his eyes to Lucas again. “I assured you, Lucas is well taken care of here. Have we done something wrong?”

“No,” Lucas said quickly, looking at the Queen.

“Not you,” Tess agreed. “Them. The ones painting my son as a criminal. He’s no criminal! I was there!”

Before Jens could reassure her or Ellis could make a cutting remark, Lies stepped in. She neatly stepped up to Tess and took the woman’s hand, squeezing in comfort. “Of course,” she said softly. “We won’t argue with what you know. But what makes you think anyone intends to do harm? It is more likely a mistake has been made, no?” When Tess hesitated, Lies frowned. “Has anyone made you feel threatened, Tess?”

“Someone is lying about him,” Tess insisted. “He shouldn’t be left out alone.”

Jens wanted to respond. He should point out that Lucas wasn’t alone, that the carriage had been sent for him every morning and obviously must have brought them both here. He shouldn’t say that it was unlikely Tess would be able to do much in the way of protecting Lucas, anyway, and the boy would likely be less afraid heading into whatever possible danger there was alone. Before he could say anything, Lucas grabbed onto his arm.

The touch was so unexpected that Jens froze up, feeling the contact zap through him and root him in place. It was only the thin layer of Jens’s sleeve separating their skin.

“Jens, I need to talk to you.” His voice was tighter than his grip. It was clear that, whatever he had to say, he would rather have kept to himself. But there was a request there now that Jens wouldn’t deny.

He nodded and drew his arm towards himself, bringing Lucas closer. Before he could guide the boy away, however, his mother clasped his shoulder with a warning look.

Lies tugged gently on Tess’s hand. “While you’re here, can I show you around? You can see where Lucas is spending all his time, and I can get you something to drink.”

“Lucas,” Tess began.

“I need Lucas for a moment, if you don’t mind, Tess,” Jens butt in. “He won’t be far, and you’re in good hands with Lies, I promise.”

She waited for Lucas’s nod before carefully accepting the offer, letting Lies guide her out of the room. Lucas and Jens remained, with Ellis staring at them expectantly.

“Why does she think you’re in danger?” Jens asked, cutting right to what bothered him most. He didn’t want to let the conversation be derailed into an argument right off the bat.

Lucas winced. “She’s sick,” he said, quiet and anxious. Jens had never seen him portray such emotion, and even now he was concealing it as much as he could. Desperation was the only reason it slipped through the cracks. “I know that’s not the best way to describe it, but I don’t know how else to explain. She gets this way, with all of these ideas, and she can’t be talked out of it, but afterwards…” He turned to Jens now, and he wore a fierce expression, but his eyes were pleading. “I can’t leave her alone.”

Jens wanted to reach out and comfort. He clasped his hands together and squeezed tightly, then changed his mind. He set a careful hand on Lucas’s arm. Lucas didn’t shake him off.

“Mother,” Jens started.

The Queen was looking at the door, after Lies and Tess. She turned to the two of them and said, “She will stay here.”

Lucas’s parted lips were the only show of surprise. Jens was sure even he looked more dumbfounded. “What? Really?”

“I understand what he means,” Ellis said, addressing Jens only, it seemed. “I will not ignore an unwell woman, not when I have the facilities to help. Just as I have let Robbe and his mother stay here for years.”

Jens did not know what to say. He wanted to point out how very different it was. Robbe was family, and Ellis had always adored him and his mother. His mother, who had been a Lady, and already a friend of the Queen’s. To him, at least, the difference was glaringly obvious; Lucas was essentially a prisoner.

Was Ellis making Tess one, too?

Was Jens horrible for even thinking she would?

Robbe hadn’t been family before getting here, he reminded himself. Ellis did not seem ill-intentioned or conniving in her offer; as sure of herself as ever, but with no hints of a hidden agenda, no signs of cunning. Maybe Jens should trust the process. Maybe this was their chance.

“But,” Lucas started, and then quickly snapped his mouth shut. Jens understood they were feeling the same. Lucas did not want to trust the offer, or even believe it, but he couldn’t bring himself to risk arguing, either. He hadn’t quite swallowed his suspicions down, however, before saying, “That is a kindness I don’t know how to accept, Your Majesty.”

Ellis lifted her chin. “Good thing the offer is not for you, then. I will discuss it with her myself. You can be grateful that it makes your job easier, now.” She looked from Lucas to Jens and back, then walked out before any of them could put in another word.

They were locked in silence for a moment, and then Lucas stepped back abruptly, pulling his arm from Jens’s touch as if it had burnt him. Jens had forgotten his hand was still on him. It felt more natural to have contact with Lucas than it probably should have, considering Jens had touched him less than a dozen times so far.

“What was that?” Lucas asked, voice wobbly as he stared down at his wobbly hands. He looked up at Jens. “Why would she do that?”

Jens pursed his lips. “She’s not a bad person, Lucas. I believe she meant it.” For now.

“But she doesn’t understand. You don’t understand,” Lucas corrected. “She’s sick, but it isn’t—I can’t—“

Jens took a hesitant step closer to him, but was careful not to encroach. “We do. Robbe’s mother, she has similar problems. Yasmina calls them episodes, when the delusions come, or other times when she…she gets kind of sad? Almost goes mute. But she’s gotten better,” he added, comfortingly. “Since staying here, she’s been given a lot of help, not just by Yasmina. There are ways it can be improved, so that it isn’t so intense.”

“She isn’t crazy,” Lucas said savagely.

“Of course she isn’t. Did I say something that implied—“

“She doesn’t need your help. I’m the one who takes care of her.”

That, he had a much easier answer for. “That’s why my mother said it will make your job easier. Now you can stay here. In the adjoining chambers, like you’re supposed to.” Jens smiled, feeling hopeful, unusually nervous, something in his heart jumping and kicking.

Lucas didn’t look as pleased with the offer as he had hoped, hands curling into fists at his sides before unfurling again, fingers stretching towards the floor. Jens’s gaze clung to them because it was easier than watching Lucas’s frustrated scowl. “Why are you so determined to make my life miserable?” he demanded.

“What?” Jens deflated. “I’m not. I’m trying to do you a favour.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“That’s what I always mean,” Jens insisted.

Lucas’s lips twitched and a muscle in his jaw jumped, holding something back.

Jens felt tired, all of a sudden. “Why do you always make it harder? Why won’t you just accept my help when it’s offered?”

“You aren’t doing any of this to help me,” Lucas exclaimed, taking a step closer. “This is for you. Everything’s always for you. I would have been better off with your mother’s death sentence.”

“And how well off would your mother be then, huh?” Jens snapped.

Lucas recoiled as if he’d punched him. His gaze darkened even further, but Jens only softened his own.

“This is for her. She will be taken care of, Lucas. I swore that I wouldn’t let harm come to you, and I know nothing would hurt you more than any harm coming to her.” Jens knew he was on the right track when Lucas’s harsh expression, and then his head, dropped, leaving him staring at the floor. “You won’t be cut off from her. You will be nearby at any time now should she need you.”

Lucas still clearly didn’t want to give in. Jens needed to give another little push. He took another step closer, and Lucas’s gaze shot up to him. “I could tell from that first moment watching you that you weren’t a bad person. I chose right then to put my trust in you, hoping it was the right decision, and hoped that you would prove it to me eventually. Now I’m asking you to sleep with only a meager wall and single door between us, still hoping you’ll prove me right. But you haven’t had any tests to see if you could trust me, and I know that. So let me to prove it to you through this.”

The speech, unsurprisingly, earned him a look of pure disbelief. “Your test of trust is with my mother’s life?” Lucas asked, with a high-pitched laugh of derision.

“I am trusting you with mine,” Jens said.

“You could kill me at any moment easier than I could lay a finger on you. You made a point of showing it, the first day.”

“And I haven’t. So, really, that should be enough to earn your trust already.”

Lucas stared at him, then grit his teeth. “I’m already late. I should be working, or these arguments will all be pointless when your mother simply has me hung.” He spun on his heel before Jens could argue, and disappeared in a second.

Jens blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair, trying to catch his bearings.

Then Lucas’s head popped back through the door.

“Have you had breakfast?” he asked, reluctantly.

Jens wordlessly shook his head.

“It’ll be in your chambers in five minutes.” Lucas didn’t move, but looked away, then back at him. “I’ll have mine in my new room.”

He left before his words could sink in and he could catch Jens grinning dopily after him.

|*~^~*|

Jens instantly realised that it was strange, having Lucas so close. His comment about breakfast was clearly his way of giving in without hurting his pride, but Jens refused to actually let him use the damp and dusty room adjacent to his own that hadn’t been used in…honestly, he couldn’t recall if it had ever been used. So they had breakfast together in Jens’s room, which was not the wholly unusual part, but which felt different already, anyway.

It wasn’t until the day had passed as normal, and Lucas was there to snuff out his fire and blow out the last lingering candles before stepping through the door on the far wall of Jens’s room, closing himself away to sleep and stay so close, that the strangeness of the situation sunk in.

Lucas was right there. Behind the door that Jens couldn’t stop staring at. Jens wouldn’t have to go through anybody else to get to him. He was right there, probably not freaking out half as much as Jens, despite how obviously stranger it must have been for him. He could be sleeping already, curled up on the single cot, snoring softly. Did Lucas snore? If he did, should Jens be able to hear it?

He listened, heard his own breath, held it, and listened some more. He could still hear nothing but his own pulse in his ears.

He rolled away from the door and forced his eyes shut.

What did it matter that Lucas was just there? He was just…there. It didn’t make all that much difference. They weren’t suddenly exchanging goodnights; Lucas had not even looked at him during this new task of leaving him in the dark. Lucas hadn’t treated him any differently all day. If anything, he’d only been more anxious to sneak away, checking on his mother in every moment he could find.

Jens should probably be thinking more about Tess, too. She had balked at the Queen’s suggestion at first, and adamantly refused. Jens had been the one to gently persuade her, and Lucas had given him the stink-eye during the whole interaction. But he had reluctantly softened, Jens noticed, when Tess did, looking at Jens and responding kindly and taking his hand as if she already held a fondness for him. Maybe he should be thinking more about Tess. He wasn’t even sure which room she was staying in, and she might have been the key to his whole problem.

He rolled onto his back, frustrated. Lucas would only hate him more, hearing him think that. It didn’t matter that Jens didn’t mean it in any manipulative sense. It sounded bad, even to himself.

Having weirdly panicked non-thoughts about Lucas had probably been better than this. He rolled onto his other side and returned to staring at the door.

Lucas was just behind it. Jens could get up and open the door and be able to look at him. But why the hell would he do that? It didn’t matter. It was unusual. Jens didn’t think anyone had ever stayed in that room. They were just a door away from him.

He wondered what Lucas thought of it, because of course, he had given no reaction when Jens had proudly presented it to him other than a mumbled ‘thanks’. It was much smaller than Jens’s room, with not even half as much furniture or decor, but it was a considerable upsizing from Lucas’s home. Lucas probably hated that, too, on the basis of some principle Jens would not understand and that Lucas would cling tighter to precisely because Jens would not understand.

Jens was getting to know him very well, he realised, with only half sarcasm.

But he couldn’t figure out what Lucas thought of the room, or if Lucas was sleeping as he ought to, or staring at the door like Jens. He didn’t know if Lucas snored, if he was sleeping, or if he seemed more peaceful or happy in his sleep, without that furrow in his brow, or if he was sleeping well or what position he slept in or if he slept without a shirt like Jens or if he had dreams or nightmares often or if he was thinking about this half as much as Jens was. He concluded that the last question was one he could probably answer on his own, and Lucas probably wasn’t thinking about hi—the same questions at all.

But he kept trying to figure it out, anyway, and avoided wondering why he felt any of it was important, and dreaded the thought that every night from now on would have the same questions, the same crisis.

It was enough to eventually fall asleep because he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. But he kept his eyes directed at the door until then, and afterwards Lucas was there, curled up in the darkness behind Jens’s lids without that furrow between his brows, sleeping peacefully where Jens could see him.

|*~^~*|

Two days after Lucas moved in, Jens found him cornered by Lotte in the hallway.

This would not be surprising or alarming if they had already met. Instead, Lucas had managed to go through all of his time here without ever being introduced or running into the little Princess. It was hardly all luck; Jens was willing to bet his mother had something to do with it. It would be easy, considering Lotte still stayed closest to the Queen’s own rooms and had classes with her tutor and maids for too many skills for Jens to keep track of. Ellis seemed to be purposefully short on details when Lotte asked about Lucas, and Lotte was smart enough to know she wasn’t going to get anywhere. She had been bugging Jens to let her meet him instead, on the simple basis it was unfair that she was the only one who didn’t even know what he looked like. Jens had always had to say no because he’d never been able to find Lucas at the time.

Now, it seemed like she’d managed it herself.

“Who are you?” Lotte demanded, with all the air of authority she’d learned from her siblings. Then, not even leaving a second to respond, “You’re him, aren’t you?”

Lucas blinked, looking shocked speechless. “Who?”

“Lucas.” They both snapped to attention as Jens joined them, Lotte with a small, sheepish smile and Lucas with a straighter spine. Jens nodded at him and gestured at the Princess. “This is my little sister, Lotte, who usually remembers more manners than that.”

Lotte made a small sound of protest, but Jens was wholly enraptured with Lucas’s softening features, his lips curving in the barest of smiles. “Oh,” he said. “I’m sorry, I should have known that.” He did a gracious dip; not quite as polished as Sander’s usual bow for the girl. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I’m Lucas van der Heijden.”

Jens would not be upset that Lucas showed the youngest member of the family more courtesy than he’d shown him. He was good with children. That was sweet. Like his smile.

Lotte flushed, but then shook her head. “You can call me Lotte, like Robbe and Sander do. And Senne and Jens’s other friends.”

“And Yasmina, and Luca, and anyone else who treats you like the favourite, right?” Jens raised a brow.

Lotte scowled and elbowed him pointedly.

Jens bent slightly as a burst of breath escaped him, but wasn’t derailed from looking at Lucas. “Don’t let her fool you. She’ll treat you like the favourite, too, but she’s not as sweet as she looks.”

Lucas only watched him in amusement. Then he looked to Lotte and very subtly rolled his eyes. (It could not have been more obvious.) Lotte giggled back, and Lucas’s smile widened a fraction, and Jens should’ve been annoyed that Lucas was getting along with absolutely everyone else on the basis of teaming up on him.

But, well. Sweet. He supposed.

Still, he couldn’t show that he was swayed that easily. He tapped Lotte’s shoulder. “Aren’t you supposed to have a dozen or so classes now? What are you doing harassing my servant?”

“I’m not harassing anyone,” she said, indignant. “I wouldn’t have had to if you let me meet him before.”

Jens held his hands up. “Don’t blame me. And don’t avoid the question.”

She pouted and gave a slight shrug.

“What are you doing?” Lucas asked him, in what should have seemed like a retaliation but wasn’t. His expectant expression made it clear he thought the answer might be ‘looking for you’.

Jens could have said that, and he wouldn’t have been lying. But he did have a more prominent reason. “I was going to ask some more questions about the Ackermans’ stay.”

Lucas pursed his lips, and now his expression just said, Ah.

Jens had been mostly avoiding thinking about it, if he was entirely honest. Every time he remembered, a tangled ball of unwanted emotions lodged itself in his chest and made him flighty with anger and anxiety. His mother had no right to make this decision for him; he was sticking by that. He wasn’t sure if it quite explained why the whole ordeal made him feel sick. Why what it might lead to made him feel sick.

He really had liked Jana, once upon a time, did have that boyhood crush on the beautiful Princess, which seemed unavoidable. And it wasn’t that Jens hadn’t thought about her in the years since; but in the way of missing a friend, not a lover.

Lucas, stuck with Jens as he was, hadn’t heard this spiel. Robbe was the only one Jens spoke to about it in any detail. The others, however, had all become victims of his sour mood and been given a gruff explanation in the first couple of days. It was enough for the one mention to make Lucas wary.

Between all of that, and the recent living developments, Jens was running pretty low on sleep.

“We’ll leave you to it, then,” Lotte said lightly. It would have come across better if she hadn’t winced.

Jens sighed, stroked her head briefly, and said, “Don’t miss anything. Go on, get Lucas to escort you if you want, then let him get back to work, okay?”

It dragged both of their smiles back as Lotte shyly glanced at Lucas and turned to lead the way. This was what made Jens a good prince—he was born to please. “Okay,” Lotte agreed, hugging him quickly around the waist before scampering off.

Lucas followed, but paused and glanced back at Jens. Whatever he wanted to say didn’t come, but he raised his brows at Jens instead. Jens nodded his assurance, feeling oddly touched, and Lucas nodded back once before disappearing, too.

Jens continued on his original trek to his mother’s chambers, and stopped when he found the door ajar. Brow furrowed, he nudged it another inch to poke his head through, but stopped again instead when he caught the shimmering glint of chain mail.

“It’s not wise,” De Smet’s deep voice slunk towards him. “He should not have been allowed to stay in your son’s chambers. You know the threat he poses.”

Jens’s heart knocked against his ribs, but he stayed stock-still as he heard his mother sigh. “I do not have to explain my decisions to you, Mathias, and certainly not this many times. I did it for the woman, not the boy. And I will not keep shooting down my son’s orders.”

“You should. He needs to be warned. The boy shouldn’t have been let live, never mind allowed so close.”

“Jens will not be warned,” Ellis said, half-exasperated and half-dismissive. “I don’t believe that telling him anything would cause the reaction you’re looking for. Jens is soft. If anything, curse Lucas too much, and it will fall on deaf ears.”

De Smet shifted, moving his back out of Jens’s sight and, presumably, closer to the Queen. “It is a dangerous game, Ellis. His kind only rot and let it spread.”

“Then let us hope,” Ellis bit back, “that Jens will dig himself out first. The boy will slip up on his own. You need not spread this urgency and push him further under Jens’s protection. Have some trust and some patience.”

De Smet sighed, now, and the clunk of his boot brought him back to where Jens could see before Jens quickly made himself scarce.

|*~^~*|

His anger had only soared to new heights after the encounter, and it pushed him to seek out Sander. He found him in the lower halls this time, heading towards the kitchen for an early lunch with Lucas at his side. They both came to a stop before Jens quite reached them, Lucas with his usual disinterest and Sander with his usual smirk.

“Don’t,” Jens said, before the knight could get a smart word in. “I am not in the mood.”

Sander’s brow twitched. “Clearly.”

“Did it not go well?” Lucas asked. “Your questions.”

Jens looked at him and felt something fierce thrum through him. He pursed his lips, giving a slight shake of his head. “She wasn’t there,” he lied. Which probably wasn’t the best way to earn Lucas’s trust, but better than the truth. Which was that he’d eavesdropped on more plans for Lucas’s eventual demise and ran away before he could get caught.

At least his mother could sit in the comfort of being right. Jens only felt more anger towards them and more protective of Lucas after hearing their words.

Why did they still think he was such a threat? Jens thought that if Lucas really wanted to do away with him, he would’ve found a way by now.

So unless he had Jens under a spell and this was what left his thoughts running every night, leaving him to eventually die a slow death by exhaustion, he was harmless.

“Do you have enough energy left for a training session first?” Jens asked Sander before any of them could question him further, or outright call out his lie.

Sander rolled his head and blew out a breath, considering. “For you, I suppose.” He nodded towards his companion. “But I already promised Lucas I wouldn’t abandon him, and he gets his lunch along with yours.”

Jens huffed, then shrugged it off. “Actually, that works out fine. He can train with us.”

Lucas gaped at him. “Your mother wants to kill me because she thinks I stole a sword, and now you want to teach me how to use one?”

Jens flushed, even while pausing to think about it. “Well, honestly, I probably would, but I meant for hand-to-hand combat. It might stop the guards from thinking they can manhandle you if you know how to break their wrists.”

This got Lucas’s attention.

Meanwhile, Sander clutched at his chest and tipped his head back with a dramatically pleased sigh. “Gosh, I enjoy it when you lose all that princely propriety.”

He spoke with an odd amount of genuity for words that were obviously sarcastic. Jens was hardly proper. Lucas’s lips twitched in amusement, as if he was thinking the same thing.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jens said. He nudged at Sander’s shoulder until Sander changed direction, turning back the way he and Lucas had come. Jens fell into step behind and Lucas hesitantly followed alongside.

“Where do you do…this?” he asked after a moment.

Jens glanced over, then nodded towards the windows. “The knights train outside in different groups, depending on their title. I sometimes lead sessions and train with them, but Sander and I got into the habit of one-on-one when he came to us and I helped catch him up. There are plenty of unused rooms down here by the weapons hall.”

“Catch up?”

Sander looked around at them. “I told you, I haven’t been here long. My training followed the usual process, but it was much more accelerated. But it meant I got special treatment and supposedly learned from the best, and now I can leave them in the dust.”

He threw Jens a wink, and Jens rolled his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

Lucas was biting down another smile.

Jens waited in the middle of the room for Sander as the knight shuck off his coat and left himself in a light grey tunic. Lucas hovered by the doorway and examined the empty room, the blank stone walls only brightened by the odd lantern and a lone tapestry. Lucas moved to examine it, and Jens wished him luck. It was too worn and faded to depict anything with much clarity. Jens wasn’t sure how old it was or how long it had been here, or if anyone else even knew it existed. Sander had examined it with care at first too, however, so perhaps Jens just wasn’t enough of an artist to understand. To him it was only another battle on another field, this one blurrier than the rest.

“Alright, Lucas, you wanna see how it’s done?” Sander called to him, meeting Jens in the center of the floor.

Lucas turned to face them and crossed his arms, giving a slight shrug. The curiosity was clear in his face.

“We’ll explain as we go.” Sander winked at Jens and spread his feet into a fighting stance, then gave a beckoning flick of his fingers.

Jens narrowed his eyes and mimicked the other’s position, then held. Sander grinned and lunged first. He was quick, being almost a head smaller than Jens, and knew his strength, but Jens had the advantage of experience. He tracked the blow and could have easily caught it, but instead he spun out, not letting his stance falter. Sander followed and narrowed his eyes.

Jens allowed a glance at Lucas. It would have been easy for Jens to land Sander on his back, but somehow, he thought that would have annoyed Lucas more than it would have impressed him. He needed to let Sander show just how good he was, and then Jens could prove that he was better. He met Sander’s eyes, and knew they had come to the mutual decision to put on a show.

Sander snorted quietly, but simply rolled his shoulders before going again.

They traded blows and parries, dancing their way around the room without getting too close to where Lucas hung at the sidelines. Sander started calling out tips as he moved, turning them into jokes more than helpful drops of wisdom. Still, Lucas seemed to be listening, from the few glimpses Jens got.

It was marvelous at replacing the tension in Jens’s muscles, and that was the important thing. It was energy instead of anger thrumming through him now, and Lucas was nearby, and there wasn’t anything immediate to worry about. This, Jens could manage.

Eventually he feinted a blow and caught Sander off guard, making him wobble and stumble back. Jens grinned, letting the anticipation of the win fill him as he checked to make sure Lucas was watching, before he found his back to the wall with the wind knocked out of him.

“Most important lesson,” Sander called, to where Lucas was hiding a smirk behind his hand. “Never take your eyes off your opponent or immediate threat. Don’t assume you’ve won before the fight’s over.” He braced his arm over Jens’s chest like he was leaning against a particularly sturdy post, rather than holding him back, and looked over his shoulder to offer Lucas another one of those winks, and Jens swept his feet out from under him.

Sander sprawled on his back with a grunt and let his arms flop to the sides. Before Jens could even speak, he let out a loud sigh.

Jens knocked Sander’s boot with his own and gazed down at him. “You were saying?” Sander flipped him off and he huffed, then addressed Lucas without looking up. “Most important lesson. Never let your guard down. Don’t assume the fight’s over before you’ve won.”

He looked up, and the most marvelous thing happened—Lucas grinned at him.

Then he was staring at the ceiling.

He wheezed as he hit the floor, and wondered if the burst of laughter he heard was actually Lucas or a result of the daze he was in. Sander kicked his leg from his own position on the floor, where he’d obviously found it appropriate to take Jens down with him. “You were saying?” Sander drawled.

Jens probably deserved that.

He watched Sander get to his feet and pushed himself onto his elbows, and then Lucas was there, offering a hand. Jens stared at him for a moment, then clasped it carefully, letting Lucas haul him up with surprising strength. Lucas released him instantly, but the feeling lingered in his fingertips much more than it had with that first brief touch outside the carriage.

Lucas brushed dirt off the back of Sander’s shoulder and was rewarded with a smile, and Jens tried not to feel bitter as he dusted himself off. Lucas was his servant, for Heaven’s sake.

“Your turn?” Sander asked him. He nodded at Jens, and Jens froze with his hands on the bottom of his tunic.

Lucas considered him, then shrugged. “I learn better by doing.”

Jens shouldn’t have felt any hesitance. It wasn’t as if Lucas would provide tough competition. He swallowed. “If you’re alright to wait for lunch for a bit longer, then sure.”

“I can’t promise I’ll be as much fun,” Lucas said.

Jens eyed him as he traipsed back to the middle of the floor, pointing at where Lucas should stand in front of him. Lucas rolled the sleeves of his tunic up to his elbows as Jens and Sander had and positioned his feet with Sander’s guidance. Jens watched him before saying, “I think you’ll surprise us.”

Jens came to the realisation quite quickly that he was unprepared for Lucas’s hands on him, and the earlier touch did nothing to lessen the effect. Lucas had kept Jens at a distance as much as he could. He’d had no reason so far to help Jens dress, and while he prepared every bath, he’d made sure not to be in the room any time Jens had one. Normal servants wouldn’t blink, but Lucas hadn’t been raised with that teaching. Jens didn’t really think it was all about modesty, but it came back to trust. It didn’t matter that Jens should be the vulnerable one in those instances; it was too close either way for someone untrustworthy. Jens understood that Lucas pretty much came with the rule ‘do not touch’, and only made the most minor of exceptions.

The rule had been forgotten now. Lucas didn’t seem to think twice about the close contact. Jens pushed aside the thought that it was out of excitement to get a punch at him. Lucas must have actually paid attention, because he managed a hit to Jens’s shoulder within a few minutes and stayed light on his feet. He managed to block Jens’s attempt, but he put him back a few steps, so Jens reached after him.

“Wait, here, it’s like this.” He waited for Lucas to set his wrist in Jens’s grip on his own, and then Jens drew his arm into position. “Use this part of your arm, keep it turned out.” The hairs on Lucas’s forearm rose as Jens trailed his fingers across it. Then he inched back, letting go as Lucas kept the position on his own, and pushed his arm against Lucas’s. They formed an x as Lucas understood and pressed back, leaning their weight into each other. “There,” Jens praised. “Now you have strength behind him.”

Lucas’s lips quirked and he nodded. He managed to apply said strength and shove Jens backward, and the dance began again.

They stopped when Jens had Lucas locked back against his chest with an arm around his throat. Both of them were breathing hard, and Jens could feel Lucas’s heart pounding against his own. He had leaned back into Jens, the energy drained out of him even though his shoulders remained tense.

“You’ve just killed yourself,” Jens told him.

Lucas made a noise of confusion, and Jens briefly tightened his arm, hearing Lucas’s breath hitch as he went entirely still.

“Don’t lean into someone who has you in a headlock,” Jens explained. “You’re defenseless. I’m going to show you how to get out, okay?”

Even though Jens had eased up again, Lucas hadn’t calmed. Jens realised, with a burst of regret, that he’d scared him. He let his grip slacken.

“Sorry, you’re probably starving now. We can leave it for another time.”

Lucas’s fingers curled around his arm. “No,” he argued, clearing his throat. “No, sorry. Show me now, while we’re here. It’s useful.”

Jens waited to see if he would change his mind, then locked his grip again. “Okay. So you’re gonna turn into my arm, and it’ll be easier to breathe. See? And move your hand down, so your fingers are between you and my elbow, then tuck your chin down into the space. Raise your shoulders to get yourself the room.”

Lucas listened and followed the instructions perfectly. His breath puffed into the crook of Jens’s elbow, where his hand already gripped the more sensitive skin.

Jens took a steadying breath. “Good. Now bend your knees, and your grip will bring me with you. This’ll make it harder for me to tighten my grip again before you can flip me.”

“I’m going to flip you?” Lucas asked, startled.

“Well,” Jens smiled slightly. “If you can.”

Lucas huffed.

“Now step back, on the right where I’m holding you. Careful you keep your weight forward, don’t lean back towards me again. No, not to the side, back. Your foot needs to go behind mine, so we’re calf-to-calf. That’s it. Feel steady?”

A moment to consider, then Lucas nodded.

“Alright, now you’re going to get out. Listen to me and then try, okay? You’re going to bend your knees, and step around with your left foot now, so you’re turning out to face the opposite direction. Keep turning your shoulders and hips into my hold to get more leverage if it’s harder than you expect. You’ll still have the grip on my arm, so pull diagonally across your chest, and I’ll trip on the foot behind me. Make sure you plant your left foot strong. Wanna try?”

Instead of answering, Lucas was already moving. Jens felt himself being drawn forward as Lucas leaned his weight, and then he was spinning. He had himself free in a second, and held onto the momentum as he pulled. Jens’s gravity shifted, and the incremental amount he’d leaned forward made no difference as he fell back onto his ass.

He was flat on the floor again, but now he could see Lucas’s smiling face above him instead of the ceiling. Jens smiled breathlessly back. “Good,” he gasped. “That was—you did really good.”

Lucas’s smile brightened, and he glanced away. “Thank you,” he said.

A sharp clap reminded them of Sander’s presence, and they both looked to find him leaning against the wall, eyes shining. He applauded Lucas with seemingly genuine enthusiasm, and pushed off the wall to walk towards them. “You two make an interesting show. That might be the best thing I’ve seen yet. And I’m impressed.”

Sander held his hand up to Lucas, and Lucas slapped it half-heartedly. He cleared his throat and went about shaking down his sleeves, and this time Sander held out a hand to help Jens up. “I think this deserves a nice lunch, His Highness’ treat.” Sander raised a brow at Lucas. “What do you think?”

Jens scowled at him, but Lucas’s expression was turning hopeful. He turned to Jens just as expectantly, and Jens was reminded of why he was here, of the conversation he’d overheard earlier. He couldn’t imagine how Lucas would slip up.

He wouldn’t let him.

“Fine,” he relented. “But Sander is just as capable of this himself. The cook has a soft spot for him more than me.”

“So our combined qualities make us irresistible,” Sander smirked, before pulling Lucas under his arm. “Even more so when you add this one to the mix.”

Lucas made as if to wrestle his way out of the hold, and Sander quickly let go.

Now Jens smirked. “This one does just alright on his own, I’m sure.”

Lucas’s lips quirked again, and Jens took the win.

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #prince!jens au #vds royalty au #my fics

[peaceoutofthepieces]

you were my crown

chapter 6

~^~

“This is already torture,” Jens groaned.

Lucas sighed, like he was already tired of hearing it. He probably was. It had been a long morning, and Jens wasn’t even dressed yet. Well, not ‘properly’. Lucas was currently helping him with that.

It was going swell.

“You really can’t do this yourself?” Lucas grunted, fumbling with another clasp on Jens’s jacket. At least he had two done, now.

“Yes, because clearly it’s so easy.” When Lucas didn’t respond beyond gritting his teeth, Jens decided now probably wasn’t the time for jokes. “Maybe we should just leave it open.”

Lucas’s glare could have lit his whole village on fire.

“Or I can stop talking and let you get on with it.”

Keep Reading

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #prince!jens au #vds royalty au #i ended up not including that other scene here so it’s done! #new chapter finally #it is too long for me to want to format it all here #but it’s up and ready on ao3

[peaceoutofthepieces]

you were my crown

chapter 7

~^~

“The clothes you’ve already forced on me aren’t good enough?”

Jens sighed. “Don’t make this difficult,” he begged Lucas.

“I’m not the one making it difficult. You’re the one saying we have to go get me more clothes without a reason when what I came here with was perfectly fine! A bit worn, sure, but now I have—“

“A fraction of Sander’s wardrobe that doesn’t even fit you properly.”

“It fits fine! We’re the same size.”

“We are about the same size,” Sander added, very unhelpfully. “And I don’t mind sharing, so.”

Keep reading on AO3

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #prince!jens au #vds royalty au

[peaceoutofthepieces]

you were my crown

chapter 1

Ao3

hi, I finally got tired of waiting. I’ll do my best to update weekly. hopefully you all enjoy :)

~^~

The rest of the kingdom woke before Jens.

He came to when a thick strip of sunlight was already streaming through the windows, further illuminating the already-sparkling gold tones of the room. The ends of the chandelier glittered at him from underneath the canopy at the bottom of his bed. His crown sat forebodingly at the foot. None of these rays woke him. It wasn’t the sight but the sounds, heavy, repetitive bangs on his door accompanied by a familiar voice.

“Rise and shine,” Senne de Smet shouted through the wood. “You have less than an hour to get your fancy gear on and eat before the boys get here. I’d recommend opening this door within the next five minutes unless you want cold breakfast.”

Jens groaned then let the complaint melt into a sigh as he burrowed further into his silk sheets. They had crept down along his arm overnight, slipping off his shoulder, and he resisted the urge to pull them back up to his chin and curl into the warmth. He had already closed his eyes again, head still drowsy and body still heavy, glittering dreams still holding him under. Vague images stuck with him, flashes of silver and blue, scars and swords, and he rubbed them away as he pushed himself up onto one hand. The muscles in his arm trembled under his weight, not yet having enough energy for the day, and it was this thought that finally drew him out of bed and towards the door.

He didn’t care much to cover himself, pulling the heavy mahogany doors open in just his sleep trousers. It didn’t matter that he was shivering in the autumn air, barefoot and bare-chested as he was. Senne’s threats always fell true, and Jens’s stomach wouldn’t forgive him for making it survive the day without a proper breakfast.

Senne was leaning against the far wall, and he grinned cheerfully as Jens peeked through the door. Much too cheerful for this time of day. He did hold, however, a steaming plate of food that contained a collection of Jens’s favourites, so he could possibly be forgiven. He slipped in past Jens and Jens followed with his nose in the air, the delicious scents wafting up with the smoke and instantly making his stomach rumble.

“I was worried I was going to have to barge in here again,” Senne said, still too lively as he plonked the breakfast plate down on the table a few feet from the foot of the bed.

Jens sighed but dropped into the head seat, slumping against the plush back with his head drooping forward. He rubbed at his eyes again and murmured, “Remind me why I never punished you for that.”

Senne shrugged. “Because you know you wouldn’t survive without me.” He stole an apple from the fruit bowl in the center of the table and tossed it into the air, catching it one-handed. “Otherwise, you’d be stuck with Sander.”

Jens tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “You make a good point. Why’s he not the one banging down my door?”

“He’s already leading drills. You let all your friends do the work for you while you’re all wrapped up in dreamland,” Senne teased, flicking the side of his head.

Jens was grateful when the older boy dropped into the adjacent chair at his right instead of leaving. “Don’t abuse me, I’m the Prince,” he muttered, collecting his fork and knife from next to the plate and beginning to prod at a sausage. “When are the others getting here?”

“Shouldn’t be long. They’re likely already on their way.”

Jens nodded, getting some food onto his fork and then staring at it. His stomach pleaded and protested at once. He couldn’t use the excuse that it was too early, but it was certainly too soon after waking.

Senne kicked him lightly under the table. “Eat your breakfast. With your schedule today you probably won’t get anything else until your dinner.”

That wasn’t unusual, and it also wasn’t what Jens wanted to hear. “You’re like an overbearing parent all on your own.”

“I’m only two years older than you,” Senne reminded him, fixing the cuffs of his blue tunic with apple still in hand. “It’s just also my job to look after you.”

“As my guard,” Jens muttered, “not my mother.”

Senne heaved out a sigh. “Sadly, I’m not lucky enough to be the queen, no.”

Jens snorted and didn’t bother with a reply. His breakfast was already getting hard to swallow, but depending on how the day would go, it could be the only meal he would have for a while. He could manage to shovel it down as long as he didn’t also have to try to speak. Senne didn’t seem bothered, lounging in his own chair and eating his apple, and Jens appreciated it. It was always nice, to have a sound outside of himself to break up the silence. Senne and Sander knew this, and often indulged him, but while Sander filled the space with chatter and teasing and on the most drastic occasions, music, Senne provided a more stoic presence. A silent but steady company. Jens appreciated it most in the mornings.

But even this couldn’t last forever.

Senne rose from his chair and rounded the table to chuck the remnants of his apple in the fireplace. Jens rolled his eyes but didn’t protest—even if it lay there long enough to smell, it would be ashes by the time Jens returned to his room tonight, and that was enough for him. Senne set a hand on his shoulder on the way past and squeezed. “I trust you can handle yourself from here?”

Jens hummed around another mouthful of food. “I’m good. Thanks.” He wasn’t, but he just had to scrape up the remnants of this meal and then he could join his friends, so maybe he was. Either way, Senne had better things to do than hang around and babysit him. He would be fine.

“Ah, he remembers some manners,” Senne teased, squeezing his shoulder once more before heading for the door. “Have fun and don’t die.”

It was, honestly, sound advice, and Senne’s tone wasn’t entirely teasing. Still, Jens huffed between bites and waved him off. A few seconds later he heard the heavy door fall shut. It took him considerably longer to get through the rest of his breakfast, each swallow seeming more difficult as his stomach started a protest. Eventually he managed to clear the plate, and then he took another minute to pour and down a cup of water.

He moved to his wardrobe and plucked out the first tunic within reach. There wasn’t much variety to pick from, anyway. (There was, but he wouldn’t have been caught dead in anything frilly, so it was slightly more limited. He also heavily favoured red. Exceptions were made for grey now and again.) Alongside the red tunic, he dug out one of dozens of pairs of black trousers. For now, he’d be allowed to dress himself. Depending on what his mother had planned for later in the day, this was subject to change.

For now, though, he was free, and finally on his way to the library.

This was not to do some—or any—reading. The library was reserved for members of the castle or invited guests only, and most members of the castle were not frequent visitors. Few of the knights had much interest in the dusty books on offer, and the majority of the servants preferred gossiping and get-togethers once they were free of their work. This meant that, most of the time, the library was relatively empty and easily taken over, and this was often what Jens and his friends did.

The library was quiet when he entered, as expected. It was already brightly lit through the long stained-glass windows, dust shimmering in the air as it fell from ancient texts. The books were endless, spreading out for what seemed like miles in every direction. Jens had gotten lost between the shelves as a child. There was, however, a wide open space in the center leading from the door right to a staircase at the back, which led up to an attic space Jens believed no one had entered in years and that was even dustier than down there. Various tables and sofas took up this section of the floor, mahogany and velvet creating a rich mix of red and brown.

On one of these sofas lounged Robbe Ijzermans, Jens’s best (and once only) friend.

He was spread across it with one leg kicked up along the cushions and a book open in his hands, seeming deeply immersed. He looked up, however, as Jens entered, and immediately grinned and snapped the book shut—after marking his place.

“You’re late,” he teased.

“I am perfectly on time. You’re early,” Jens retorted. “The others aren’t even here yet.”

Robbe waved a dismissive hand. “Well, I don’t have as far to travel.”

It was true that he didn’t, so much so that he might have been even closer to the library than Jens. There were not many residents of the castle who weren’t either of royal blood or a servant, but Robbe was an exception. He had lived here with his mother for as long as Jens could remember, as the woman was a long-time friend of the Queen’s and a previous Lady, until her Lord had up and vanished without a word. She had been distraught, and unable to look after her young son alone. Jens’s mother had taken them in on a rare act of love that no one had ever dared to question.

Jens didn’t care what the reasons were, only that it had given him Robbe. It made them almost more than friends—brothers in all but blood. A lot of the time Jens wished they shared the same lineage. Robbe would have made a much better successor to the throne. He was already treated like a Prince by the entire kingdom.

Robbe shifted to set both feet on the ground so Jens could sit next to him. He realised they were another mixture of those rich tones, blood and rust mingling as he slumped back and let their shoulders press. Robbe, like Jens, had a preference in colours and an aversion to frills.

“You can’t be tired when you’re likely only awake,” Robbe protested, but he didn’t push Jens away.

Jens let his head loll against the backrest and narrowed his eyes at his friend. “I ate breakfast. I dressed. I know I’m talented at many things, Robbe, but even I can’t do that in my sleep. Senne gave me a very kind wake-up call a while ago, don’t worry.”

Robbe huffed. “Senne is nice. You’re just whiny.”

Before Jens could protest, the door burst open again and permitted loud greetings.

Moyo Makadi entered with his arms spread, pushed along on a food trolley by Aaron Jacobs. Jens instantly covered his face with a hand, both to block out the sight of more food and Moyo’s cheeky wave. Moyo hopped off the cart and barely managed to help Aaron draw it to a stop before it crushed Jens and Robbe’s legs.

“Oops,” Moyo said. “Hello, you royal asses.”

Robbe snorted as Jens finally dropped his hand and rolled his eyes. He was unable to stop a smile, however, as Aaron immediately slipped in to gather him and Robbe in a hug. Moyo simply slapped hands with them both and dropped onto the closest free space, another lush sofa set at an angle to the one Jens and Robbe already occupied. Aaron settled next to him and they finally struck up a conversation.

“So, what flashy business is happening today that gathered us all here?” Moyo questioned, mock-intent as he rested his chin on his fist and raised his brows at Jens.

Jens shrugged. He wasn’t always kept in the loop regarding this information, himself. “A trial of some sort, I think.” It would, inevitably, cut this little get-together short, for him at least.

“I would love to be you,” Aaron pouted at Jens. “You get to know everything.”

Jens didn’t bother pointing out that this was far from the truth, as he in fact felt he knew very little. “You can take my place if you like,” he offered, shrugging.

Many would think him ungrateful, entitled, and maybe that is exactly what these thoughts made him, but he was really just tired. He was exhausted, constantly. He shouldn’t have been, considering he was literally served everything on a silver platter, and didn’t really have to work for anything as far as the outer world was concerned. Sitting on a throne as a pretty accessory was hardly effort, after all.

He thought maybe it was this that tired him. Monotony was supposed to be tiring, wasn’t it? He was tired from doing nothing while also doing everything. He was tired of being expected to do it with a regal aura he wasn’t sure he even had.

He might have also been tired of doing it alone.

“Are you giving away the place of Prince, now?” Moyo cocked a brow, then slapped his hands together. “I’ll gladly take any going positions.”

“You can take Jens’s and I’ll take Robbe’s,” Aaron agreed.

Robbe made a small sound of protest, sitting up straighter and removing the support under Jens’s shoulder, leaving him to tilt sideways and almost knock his face into Robbe’s back. “I didn’t offer any position. I’m perfectly content right where I am.”

“You basically live in your own castles anyway,” Jens pointed out. “But you don’t have to sit in and watch my mother judge some poor commoner.”

“Aww, Jens is just too soft.” Moyo poked his knee.

Jens rolled his eyes.

“Well, at least you don’t have to travel around in a carriage on an empty stomach to get here,” Aaron said, finally leaning forward to cast his gaze over the feast they’d brought with them.

Robbe huffed, amused, and settled back alongside Jens. “You can take your fill now. All of this is for the two of you. Jens and I already ate.”

“What?” Moyo blinked at them, then stared at the food, then at Aaron. “It’s just for you, then. I actually got up in time and already had my breakfast, too.”

Aaron’s eyes widened as he glanced between all of them and then back at the cart. He let out a long breath and patted his stomach. “Alright. We can do it.”

Jens snorted as Robbe burst into giggles and Moyo simply shook his head. Jens enjoyed these moments more than anything else, the ridiculous ones with his group of friends in which he could just be himself. He didn’t have to be polite or polished or princely. He didn’t have to be anything. He could just laugh without anyone looking at him in awe or judgment.

He really didn’t have to worry about these three being in awe of him.

Moyo turned to him with a wrinkled brow, breaching the gap between them to poke him in the stomach. “It’s probably a good thing you’re opting out, you’re getting a little soft there.”

Jens batted him away. “So what if I am?”

“Don’t they have you on some strict, fancy diet and a training regime? Thought they didn’t want a pudgy Prince.”

Jens crossed his arms over his stomach and scowled.

Robbe made a small noise of protest next to him. “Jens would be basically skin and bones by your standards. I’d rather see him soften up than fade away.” He nudged Jens teasingly, but gave Moyo another pointed look.

Moyo’s expression gentled. “He knows I’m kidding. I just think it’s crazy, some of the expectations like that they have of you. I couldn’t be a knight, either.”

“Sander loves being a knight,” Robbe pointed out.

“Doesn’t Sander just love everything, though?” Aaron asked. He had a smear on his chin from some sort of sauce, even though Jens couldn’t spot any amidst the array of food.

“He loves being a pain in my ass,” Jens muttered. Sander Driesen was a nuisance more than a knight, a member of his personal guard, and one of his best friends. He was the same age as Senne, just two years older than the group of them, and still he appeared younger. Jens could speak about (tease) Sander in a manner that didn’t feel quite as appropriate with Senne.

“Maybe,” Robbe acquiesced, grinning over at him. “But at least you know it’s with love.”

“Well, who doesn’t love our dear Royal Highness,” Moyo teased.

Aaron took another chunk of food. “And his royal heinie.”

Robbe choked on his breath. Moyo, however, immediately started cackling, and Aaron joined in once Jens flipped them off. Eventually, Robbe’s giggles joined the fray, and this was eventually what roped Jens into letting out a quiet laugh of his own. They were too much, sometimes, but he thought he quite liked it that way.

The door burst open once more to permit a fluffy cloud of white hair. Sander poked his head in and raised his brows at all of them, lips twitching slightly in response to their laughter. Jens gave him a little wave and he strode into the room, still fully decked out in his chainmail with a navy cloak wrapped around his shoulders.

“Ahh, there he is,” Moyo grinned. “The skinniest knight in the land.”

Sander pulled a face and flipped him off. “I can be skinny and still know how to skin you.”

Moyo’s brows rose, but he quietened, sinking back in his seat with raised hands.

“I’m guessing you’ve come to whisk me away?” Jens sighed.

“Afraid so. I’ve been waiting all morning to come sweep you off your feet,” Sander said, hand placed mockingly over his heart as he smirked. “I almost challenged Senne to a duel to get to your chambers.”

Jens rolled his eyes skyward.

Robbe giggled, and Sander narrowed in on him and finally softened, as he usually did. It was little secret that most of the fellow castle members favoured Robbe, and that Sander in particular had a soft spot for his doe eyes. Robbe was the reason he was here, after all.

Sander rounded the food trolley and sat on the arm of the sofa next to Robbe, ruffling a hand through his curls. Robbe would have smacked any of them away, but he leaned into Sander like a cat. “I hope you’re not letting these ones corrupt you.”

“You’re hardly a stellar role model yourself,” Robbe drawled, gently teasing.

The hand Sander placed over his heart seemed slightly less mocking, but his pout twitched towards a smirk. “You wound me, dear Robin.”

“They don’t need me immediately, do they?” Jens attempted to draw Sander’s attention back.

Sander shrugged. “I was told to fetch you so you could be properly dressed,” he announced, overly amused.

Jens groaned and slumped down in his seat as Moyo laughed again.

|*~^~*|

Ow. Cinched too tight around the waist. Again. Cutting into his throat. He let out a slight grunt and the maid handling his ties and buttons mumbled an apology, still avoiding his eyes.

“It’s alright,” Jens reassured her. He thought her name might be Lisa, but he wasn’t sure, and he refused to use it only to be wrong. “It’s not you, just these clothes. I don’t see the need for them, in any case. Do you?”

Lisa paused for a moment and considered him, actually thinking through her answer. “I think they’re nice, Sire.”

Jens blinked. She was complimenting him, he thought, but she was also disagreeing with him. Not to a large extent, of course, and the good certainly outweighed the bad, but that didn’t make it any less unusual. Most of the servants just smiled and nodded and furtively agreed with anything he said. Robbe and the boys were different, as well as some of his knights, but outside that small circle, Jens rarely garnered any honest conversation or genuine opinions. It was refreshing.

“They do look quite uncomfortable, though,” she commented, and he deflated slightly. “But at least it’s not a dress. The Princesses take a lot longer.”

This startled a pleased laugh out of Jens. “I can imagine. What with Lotte being barely twelve and Lies being so demanding.”

“I wish that Lotte was going to remain that age and never require any awkward clothing,” Lisa admitted, turning away to run her hand over Jens’s heavy cloak. She looked back at him curiously. “It’s a while yet to the meeting. Would you rather wait to wear this?”

Jens waved her off. “Sure. I’ll manage it myself, I’m sure. Thank you.”

Lisa offered a small bow, as well as the hint of a smile when Jens grinned at her. She took her leave without any further fuss and let the heavy door fall shut behind her, leaving Jens once again alone in his silent chambers. He almost wished Sander had stuck around, but Sander had been starving and Jens was the one who told him to go and find himself an early lunch. He wished he could have spent more time with the boys, as well, considering now he would simply have to wait—just in a bit more discomfort than before.

He cast a glance at himself in the mirror. At least, he thought, he was still wearing red. The padded jacket hung low on his wrists and was clasped with a belt at the waist, with the collar obscuring most of his throat. It was well fitting and of a soft material and really, it wouldn’t be so bad if he was more used to it. It just felt a little too restraining. Had he actually put on a little weight?

He tugged at the collar, skin underneath beginning to itch uncomfortably. Eventually he gave in and unbuttoned the top of the garment, taking a deep breath and finally swallowing without feeling like he was being choked. He didn’t think it looked any worse, or less professional, but then again he was never the best judge. He’d once tried to convince his mother that their family taking up a more casual style would only earn them more respect from their people, and help put them all on the same level. She had disagreed.

His door opened without any forewarning, which meant it had to be a member of his family. He turned around to see Lotte racing towards his bed, throwing herself on it amidst his protests. Her giggle floated out into the room and Jens groaned slightly, but the roll of his eyes was fond. He glanced back at the mirror and checked himself over once more, fiddling with that top button, before he let his hands drop and turned to his youngest sister.

“What are you doing in here? You know there’s a meeting soon,” he berated, only to huff in amusement when she narrowed her eyes at him. “I won’t be able to spend much time with you.”

She considered him for another moment, then simply shrugged. “I know. But I’m bored. I like whatever time I get.”

Jens softened. He knew that, in some ways, it was even harder for Lotte than it was for him. He had Robbe and the boys, and Senne and Sander, who were not only his people and his guard but his friends. Many of the people who worked in the castle were his age or thereabouts.

Lotte didn’t have the same luxury.

He went to join her on the bed, ignoring the alarms in his head warning him of creased clothes as he flopped down beside her. “Okay.” He smiled over at her and gave her a nudge. “I always have time for you.”

The girl returned his smile, but it quickly faltered. “Unlike Lies,” she muttered, picking mournfully at her fingernails.

Jens grasped her small hands in one of his to stop the motion. “She doesn’t mean to brush you off, you know. She is just busy, too.”

“Not as busy as you and you make an exception.”

He supposed this was a fair point. He also supposed sisters of twelve and twenty might not have all that much in common, but they were a special case. The three of them had almost everything in common. “Have you really tried to get her to spend time with you?”

Lotte hesitated. “Not really.”

“Would you like me to mention something to her?”

“No, that’s embarrassing.”

“It won’t be. I’ll be subtle.”

“But you’re awful at that, Jens.”

“Excuse me?” Jens sat up, affronted. “I am excellent at subtlety. It’s a big part of my job.”

Lotte seemed dubious. “How? You don’t actually do much.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean with the people,” Lotte specified, blushing slightly even as she tried and failed to hide her amusement. “You don’t get many opportunities to practice subtlety. Neither do I.”

“Clearly,” Jens quipped.

Another giggle erupted, and Jens couldn’t fight back his smile. He had his friends and his family. Lotte had always looked up to him and he had always adored her—they were as close as a brother and sister eight years apart in age could be. He and Lies were close, too, though they were also, obviously, much closer in age and more likely to match up to each other’s taunts. But Lies had always been Lotte’s favourite. The two had been thick as thieves almost since Lotte’s birth, but recently Lies had been sucked into her own position in the castle. She wasn’t subject to as much nonsense as Jens, but she had her own fair share of business and responsibilities. She had also simply grown up.

But Lotte was still growing up with them, and Jens wouldn’t just let her be left behind.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m subtle,” he said. “Lies will make an effort if she knows you miss her. You know how much she loves you.”

Lotte hugged one of his many pillows against her chest and didn’t look at him. “It’s different now, though.”

“No. You’re our sister and that will never change. Okay?”

Before Lotte could respond, a harsh rap on the door interrupted their moment. Jens closed his eyes briefly, already guessing who it was. The door swinging up with no further warning confirmed his assumption.

“Well, now you’re just being difficult,” Sander said, exasperated. “I did not drag you back here early so you could get some more sleep.”

Jens groaned and tugged the pillow out of Lotte’s grasp to cover his own face with it.

Lotte giggled, and Sander finally took notice of her. His lips instantly split in a smile, and he took a deep bow, which only made Lotte’s laughter louder. “Pardon me, Princess. I hope you know I never intended to lay on you the same disgrace as your brother.”

“Of course not,” Lotte said, ever at ease as she bounded over Jens and towards Sander, letting him place the usual kiss on her hand. “You’re only doing your job right, and I am sure he deserves it.”

“I thought,” Jens interrupted loudly, “that we were supposed to stick together. I am only here because of you in the first place, but I see you’re not yet old enough to know better than to fall for his charm.”

Lotte stuck her tongue out at him, which might have proved his point. “You are just jealous Sander is better at it than you. Enjoy your meeting.” She gave him a wave and a smile before slipping away, and Jens watched after her, hoping above everything that she wouldn’t get old enough too quickly.

Sander also smiled fondly after her, but grew stern once he returned to Jens’s gaze. He placed his hands on his hips and sighed. “Your mother is going to have me in the stocks one of these days, and then I will teach you how that works in our next training session.”

Jens snorted. “I would like to see you try.”

|*~^~*|

He hated sitting in for Court. It was less about the ‘criminals’ and more about the royals, the endless lines of knights and Lords and servants, eager to witness another fool. He didn’t care much for fools, but he cared even less to laugh at them. It soothed him only slightly that Sander and Senne were visible near the front of the room.

He cared least for his formal attire. He was overheating in his jacket, once again delicately buttoned up to the throat, the collar digging into his skin. He’d tried leaving the top hanging open, and it had hardly taken a second for his mother to give him a sharp glance, nodding to a maid that had hastily run to button it back up. He was left to sit and suffocate.

His mother was seated next to him, as regal as ever in her throne. Her fitted dress was a deep burgundy, multiple shades darker than her son’s jacket, and her hair was pinned up neatly with her crown placed carefully atop it. She hadn’t paid attention to Jens, bar the instance with the clothing ‘mishap’. Instead she was talking quietly to Senne’s father, who also happened to be the head knight, or Commander. Jens didn’t know him well, and the man never seemed to give him much thought. Which was fair, he supposed, as he was obviously of less importance, and the position and size—a little behind and a lot smaller—of his own throne in comparison to his mother’s was a good reminder. This meant he was left alone as they waited for whatever poor soul was being charged to make their way to the throne.

For some reason, he wasn’t expecting the poor soul to be a boy roughly his age with scruffy hair and striking blue eyes set in a delicate face.

Jens straightened subtly in his chair, placed to the right side of his mother’s throne, and met the boy’s eyes for half a second.

His mother ordered a sharp, “Kneel.”

Before the boy could comply, one of the guards that had escorted him set a heavy hand on his shoulder and forced him down, making him land on the stone floor in a manner that left Jens’s own knees aching in sympathy. The boy simply caught his breath and held his chin high, looking straight at them and through, his jaw clenched.

Jens drummed his fingers on his knee in interest.

The same guard gave the boy’s head a forceful shove. Jens thought he might have been one of the Berg children, though of the four brothers there were in that family, he couldn’t distinguish this one. He could see, however, that the guard must have been twice the boy’s size in bulk. “Speak your name to the Court.”

The boy took a breath as some of his masqueraded confidence slipped. “Lucas. Lucas van der Heijden.”

Jens licked his lips, cataloguing the sound of his voice, the way his mouth parted for an instant before the actual sound escaped. The name rumbled deeply around the room and seeped into the walls, encased in the brick in case it would otherwise be lost.

Jens’s job was to watch, to note, and to only give judgement if asked. It often didn’t take him long to form conclusions. His conclusion of Lucas van der Heijden was that he seemed, at once, nothing and everything like a criminal.

He was young, and clean cut, though his clothes were a tad too tight and an inch too short on his ankles, fraying at the hems. There was a smudge of dirt on his cheek, a familiar sandy mixture that Jens had seen on all hostages of the castle cells. It was impossible to tell how long he had been kept in them—Jens was rarely offered such information. There was an innocence to his youth but a confidence in his posture. His eyes held a pleading light and a resolute film. Whatever his crime in regards to the crown, he held a loyalty to someone.

“State his crimes,” the Queen requested. She had abandoned any attention towards the Commander, though he remained by her side. She was looking at the boy with a cool intent that surprised Jens.

The opposite guard, whom Jens failed to recall a name for, stared straight ahead as he spoke up. “Thievery and dishonor to the Court, Your Majesty.”

Jens could barely hold back a snort. He relaxed slightly. There was rarely a severe punishment for a loaf of bread. The scene before him suddenly made more sense.

His mother’s tone, however, was unusually steely. “Thievery of what?”

“Sir Viktor’s sword, Your Majesty.”

Jens blinked. A rumble of interest spread through the Court. That was something of a surprise. Jens was suddenly paying more attention.

Lucas’s jaw tightened and he gave a minuscule shake of his head, so much so that Jens was sure he was the only one to notice.

The Queen didn’t seem quite as intrigued, which meant she had already known. “And what, boy, do you want with a sword?”

“I didn’t steal it.” Lucas spoke through gritted teeth, but his gaze didn’t waver. “I’ve never even seen the sword before.”

“It was found under his bed, Your Majesty, free of its sheath. Sir Viktor had been missing it for a full day before organising a search.”

Jens barely resisted rolling his eyes. If Viktor had been missing it that long, he was almost in need of a punishment himself. He’d known Viktor Deruwe, Senne’s brother, for only over a year, becoming acquainted with him long after he’d already met Senne. Senne’s loyalty and honour, that Jens had become easily familiar with during the man’s service in his personal guard, did not seem to emanate as clearly from his brother. Jens had received only a few pleasures of his presence, and pinned his discomfort down to this unfamiliarity. As he watched Lucas’s expression tighten further, however, there was something that didn’t sit quite right with him.

The feeling only strengthened as the Queen raised her head and stared Lucas down. “You’d do best to not add dishonesty to your list, Mr van der Heijden. The proof sits against you. If you claim not to have stolen it, how do you suppose it ended up with you?”

Lucas swallowed. For a tiny second, his gaze flitted over to the crowd on his left. Jens followed his gaze and found nothing that stood out, other than his own friends. Senne was watching Lucas intently, and with mild surprise, though he did not appear angered on his brother’s behalf. Sander was flicking cautious glances at him anyway.

“I didn’t steal anything,” Lucas repeated. “I’m an artist. I have no reason for a sword.”

“And yet,” the Queen said lightly, “there was one so close to you. Are you able to explain that?”

Jens came to the realisation too late, after noticing the hard lines of his mother’s frown and the steel underlining the easiness of her voice. This wasn’t a trial—this was merely the sentencing.

“Someone else must have placed it there,” Lucas said, just as light, with just as much steel underneath.

“I’m sorry, Mr van der Heijden, truly, but the evidence against you is not something I can simply dismiss as a wrong guess. Do you have proof, of anyone else who may have had access to your quarters? Even so much as a theory.”

“It’s not hard,” Lucas laughed slightly, “to access my quarters. From the way your guards stormed my home yesterday without so much as a knock as a notice, that seems fairly clear.”

Jens raised his brows as the Queen lowered hers. “You’d do well not to speak out of turn, boy. Evidently, my guards had every right to rip your home to shreds if they so pleased.”

Jens looked at her in surprise. He knew his mother held a firm and stern rule, but she had never shown herself to be cruel. Jens would never have expected her to so openly disregard the rights and welfare of her people. He supposed Lucas was good at pushing buttons, and he’d somehow managed to hit a number of her’s throughout their short interaction. Jens glanced over Lucas again, his curls scattered and shoulders straight, and felt a stab of worry in his stomach.

Help yourself, Jens silently urged. Try to win her over. Don’t make it worse.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty.” Lucas seemed to force the words out, dragging them from himself as if he was being made to pull his own teeth. “My mother—I take care of her. I worried that she would have been harmed in the fray.”

Jens watched his own mother soften slightly before regaining her resolve. “While that’s admirable of you, it doesn’t truly explain your resistance. Your lies, Mr van der Heijden, may only lead to further searches of your home in an attempt to confirm either your guilt or your innocence. Would you not, in that case, rather save your mother the trouble?”

Jens swiveled his gaze back to Lucas, watching the low blow hit, cataloguing the way the boy’s own resolve crumbled.

Then he straightened, undeterred by the hand still tightly clasped on his shoulder. “My mother has no involvement, because neither do I. I’m not lying. I stole nothing.”

The Queen regarded him for another long moment, as did Jens. Then she released a heavy sigh. “I was hoping that your cooperation would provide an option for leniency. A true explanation may have lightened your sentence, but the proof against you is overwhelming.”

Jens’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t quite sure he agreed, but he was only meant to give his opinion if he was asked. He didn’t think his mother much cared what he thought, most times, but especially now.

“I cannot believe that you are free of intent to threaten the crown, due to the unusual action of your crime. I fear I have no choice.” She stood from her throne and stepped down from the dais, looming over Lucas in her heavy red robes and shimmering crown. “Lucas van der Heijden, for the charges of thievery and dishonor to the throne, I find you guilty and sentence you to death.”

The murmur this time was of a much more extensive volume, but it wasn’t quite enough to drown out Jens’s incredulous burst of laughter.

All eyes turned to him, and he felt his shoulders stiffen. Lucas’s gaze was most prominent, evidently confused, with eyes wide and disbelieving. His mother’s were equally surprised, though underlaid with anger.

Definitely not supposed to be voicing his opinion today, then.

Jens did his best to ignore his discomfort under the attention and keep a princely smile on his face. “Since when do we sentence death without proof? Now you wish it upon one of your younger subjects for the kidnapping of a sword that wasn’t even put to use?”

The murmur that he’d silenced picked up again, and his mother raised an unimpressed brow at him. “The proof has been presented to you as it has been presented to me. Are you aware of evidence we are not?”

“I’m aware that there is a possibility, however slim, that he is telling the truth. Even if he had stolen it and intended to put it to use, the sword has been retrieved. He presents no real immediate threat. If anything, I believe he would have committed the crime as a scared boy with family he wishes to protect. Surely that is something any of us can understand. He may be deserving of punishment, yes, but death?”

The room had fallen into utter silence. Jens didn’t dare look at any of the Court members, but he chanced a glance at Lucas. The other boy was staring back at him, with all surprise now wiped from his face. He wore a carefully constructed blank expression, that didn’t break as Jens looked back at him.

Jens didn’t know why he felt such a strong urge to save him. But now that he’d started, he couldn’t bring his own argument to an end.

“So what else do you suggest?” His mother asked this at length, unwillingly.

He shouldn’t have spoken out. It wasn’t his place. It wasn’t good for her, he knew, to have her rule questioned in public by her own son. But he’d argued without thinking, looking at Lucas and feeling an inexplicable need to stand up for him. To protect.

“It’s his loyalty in question, is it not?” Jens raised a brow and waited for her nod. “So let him prove it. I’m sure someone youthful and strong could have a place serving the Court.”

The murmur picked up again. Jens resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he skipped over all the incredulous looks to find his friends, and was assured to have Sander and Senne watching on with surprise but approval. Sander cocked a brow at him, as if impressed, while Senne merely nodded his encouragement.

His mother stared at him. “Your suggestion is to allow him a position in the castle?”

“He couldn’t be placed under more watch,” Jens said simply. “I would rather test someone’s loyalty and perhaps gain a better bond than let a life go to waste.”

This murmur sounded somewhat agreeable, though it was silenced the second the Queen raised her hand. “There are no positions in the Court up for offer, and I cannot possibly gift a thief the sword he’d stolen.”

Jens didn’t even pause to think. “I don’t have a personal servant.”

There was, surprisingly, no murmur. The room was eerily quiet as Jens and his mother stared each other down and Lucas flitted his gaze between them.

It was not a lie, and was perhaps even the reason he had been doing this. He was tired of fussy maids lacing his shirts and buttoning his coats and buckling his cuffs. His sisters both had maid-servants, while Jens was left with an array of strangers carrying out various duties, never even able to become familiar with faces as they avoided contact and conversation at all costs. He did his best to be amicable with the castle staff, to form relationships, to form bonds. But aside from the few close friends he saw only on occasion (and even they were sons of various Lords in various agreements with his mother), and a few chosen guards, Jens spent most of his time alone.

He wouldn’t have minded someone like Lucas by his side. Someone his age, who wasn’t afraid to look him in the eye.

“You wish to risk letting a criminal become your personal servant? You would trust him to be so close to you?”

Jens let his mother stare disapprovingly at him before shifting his gaze to Lucas. They considered each other, concrete met with intrigue, before Jens gave a simple shrug. “I would.” He saw Lucas shake his head slightly in disbelief, and only became more sure. He turned back to his mother and kept his expression and tone firm. “It’s my risk to take, and I believe there isn’t much risk to it. If I am wrong, then I should get what’s coming to me.”

A few of the guards gave a quiet titter in acceptance, and he watched as his mother looked at a spot in the crowd for a lengthy moment.

Then she was nodding her acceptance.

She looked down upon Lucas. “Very well. You will have a guard assigned to you that will accompany you on any outings, alone or with the Prince. While you are in his service, there will be guards stationed at his door and extra security provided throughout the castle. It is only as a sign of trust towards my son that you are being given leniency. You should be grateful to him that you are leaving here with your life.” She looked to the guard on his left, the one that had spoken calmly to them without laying a finger on Lucas. “Take him and remain with him until the new measures I eventually decide upon are fully put in place.” She then turned to the room at large and raised her voice to address them all. “You are dismissed.”

Lucas listened to her silently, and remained wordless as Berg yanked him to his feet. Jens watched on until his mother spoke up again.

“Jens, you are to accompany him now. If he is not to be trusted from the beginning then he is not to be trusted without his apparent savior. You are also dismissed,” she said. “Though you will be meeting me again later to discuss this decision further.”

Jens bit back a sigh and rose to his feet. The intrigue spiraling up in him was quickly turning to elation. He felt that he had been entirely right to speak up and to continue to stand his ground, and it was a thrilling realisation that he could. It had even been easy, to earn the support of his mother and the Court, in what at first seemed to be an unshakable stance.

As he made his way down the dais and met Lucas’s stony gaze, however, he considered that it may not be as simple as he thought.

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #prince!jens au #vds royalty au #my fics

[peaceoutofthepieces]

“Sander,” Robbe whispered, imploring. “You can’t take this on. Never mind the pressure, but you can’t be expected to be available all the time. And now switching rooms? It’s too much.”

“It’s very little for them to ask of me, Robbe,” Sander argued, abandoning his task to turn and face him. “I’m a knight. This is nothing.”

Robbe shook his head. He had known Sander would fight him on this, but it still always hurt when the older boy refused to listen. “You know it’s not. Sander, you—“

“It’s been months,” Sander cut him off.

His voice was quiet and strong at once. He looked so small just then, even though he was obviously determined. He’d straightened his shoulders and was holding Robbe’s eye, and still, something lurked underneath. There was a silent desperation, a wildness that Sander had always seemed to contain, confined tightly in his chest but always threatening to explode. It was there in his eyes, a plead mingled with the insecurity he truly felt.

It wasn’t just that he wanted Robbe to believe him. He wanted Robbe to convince him. To reassure him that he was, in fact, right, and more than capable of holding the weight he’d placed on himself.

But Robbe cared about him too much to do that.

“I know,” he said softly. “But it has been months before.”

Sander instantly shook his head, insisting, “Never this long. It’s different.”

Robbe closed his eyes. It wasn’t, and it wouldn’t be, regardless of how much Sander tried to will it into existence. Robbe knew it; he’d already seen it. He couldn’t let Sander believe it and be reckless with himself as a result.

But what more could he say?

#for sander’s birthday #because i never gave a sobbe snippet for this 🙈 #sobbe #wtfock #prince!jens au #vds royalty au #knight!sander #royal!robbe #<- okay but that sounds so cute

[peaceoutofthepieces]

you were my crown

chapter 3

Ao3

~^~

There was a distinct tension permeating the carriage. Lucas looked especially uncomfortable, and Sander heaved sighs and shifted in his seat every few minutes, as if he couldn’t stand staying still. Jens knew he couldn’t, that if anything he’d rather be up front, but mostly would have preferred their usual method on horseback. But when Jens had asked Lucas if he could ride, he’d stared back as if Jens was insane, and Ellis was not quite ready for Lucas to be left alone with her son without ‘protection’, so here they all were.

Jens was feeling a bit uncomfortable, himself.

It was nothing to do with the carriage and the rather useless cushion under him, either, but a combination of Sander’s fidgeting next to him, Lucas’s avoidant gaze across from them, and his own inability to stop staring.

Lucas had stared at the carriage with a somewhat dubious expression, and then the lush cushion on his seat with utter disbelief. He’d nudged it aside to sit on the wood, and Jens had just tried not to be disappointed that Lucas hadn’t sat next to him. Sander had slanted another one of those looks between the two of them and sat himself next to Jens with a huff. Lucas had caught Jens’s eyes then, just for a second, before directing his eyes at his lap and keeping them there for the entire journey.

At least, until Sander could no longer take the silence.

“I’m going to teach you how to ride a horse,” he told Lucas. “First duty.”

“That doesn’t at all fall under either of your duties,” Jens pointed out, earning himself a sharp look.

Lucas didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t look upset either. “Why?”

“Because I think you’ll like it, and you’re going to get tired of walking to the castle every morning and night very quickly.”

This was enough to make Lucas’s expression crumble in distress for a second before any emotion was neatly tucked away again. He was, however, slightly more grim-faced as he offered Sander a single nod. Then he hesitated and flicked a glance at Jens. “But, what does that matter? I won’t be allowed to take a horse from the stables.”

“You will,” Jens flicked his hand.

Lucas stared at him, and Jens returned his gaze as steadily as he could. It was quite the promise to make, he knew, and he wasn’t actually sure he could pull it off, but for Lucas, he’d try. Lucas was still closed off, but he seemed less tense since finding out he could go home, even during the meeting with Ellis. Jens had done this for him, and Lucas knew it. He seemed to be appreciating it more than Jens saving his life in the first place, which was odd, but well, Jens wouldn’t question it. He might not be the best people-person, but he knew when he’d tried his luck far enough. He knew to accept Lucas’s glances of enquiry and nods of acceptance and rare smiles for now.

He would have time to work out the horse thing, while Sander actually taught Lucas, and until then, “I’ll send the carriage out for you for now.”

Now Lucas allowed a blink. “I can just walk. It’s what I’m used to.”

“It’s a good distance. I don’t need you exhausted for the day before your duties even start. They might sound simple but I’ve heard plenty of complaints before,” Jens warned him. “Daily.”

His mother had done a rather good job of outlining what was expected of Lucas regarding his new position. He would bring Jens his meals; he’d take care of washing and polishing both clothes and weapons; he’d do whatever needed to be done in Jens’s room, including lighting the fire and changing the bedsheets and organising baths; he’d be present at any events inside the castle and accompany Jens to any outside in order to serve him, and he’d take over the task of preparing Jens for them and finally relieve the poor maids. Along with all of this, he’d do whatever Jens, or the Queen, or even Sander, in this special instance, told him to do. It was what was expected of most servants—more than was expected of some but less than was expected of many. Lucas had accepted it with the same grim expression and one of his quiet nods.

Ellis, then, had politely pointed out the extent of special treatment he was getting. For anyone. Never mind a ‘traitor’. Not everyone, she’d said, had the honour of the Prince being their personal escort. Then Lucas had managed a tight smile but a rather impressive bow and a mumble of gratitude.

It was true. Jens rarely ventured outside the castle grounds unless it was to hunt or let some Lord or another play host. He’d ventured to bordering kingdoms only a few times to meet allies with his mother, either to make deals or attend their rather lavish parties. He tried to imagine Lucas hovering at his shoulder during such an event and bit down a smile. They hadn’t gotten a chance to visit Milan yet, after all, but Jens still had the thought in mind. Lucas would need official robes eventually—Jens would make him see it had nothing to do with pity, that it was a necessary custom. If he was amused and intrigued by the mere thought, well, that was a mere bonus Lucas didn’t need to know about.

“Do you think someone might faint when they see you?” Sander asked, looking at Jens curiously. His voice was innocent, but his lips were tilted in a faint smirk. “I’m always curious to know if there actually are people out there who’d end up helplessly falling at your feet.”

Jens scowled at him, but Sander had already turned to Lucas.

“What do you think? Anyone you know around here going to die at the sight of him?”

Lucas sweeped his gaze over Jens consideringly. Jens expected a biting remark, but he had to admit the slight smirk on his face was a bit of a surprise. “Unlikely they’ll be disappointed.” Jens’s heart thumped in surprise, and then Lucas continued. “They already expect very little.”

Sander immediately burst out laughing as Jens turned his scowl on Lucas. He couldn’t quite bring himself to be mad or upset when Lucas’s lips twitched up further as he gazed back before eyeing Sander in amusement. Sander patted Jens’s shoulder consolingly and only laughed harder when Jens batted him away.

“I should have known better than to let you in on this.” He glared at Sander, then frowned at Lucas as he slouched down in his seat, being jostled slightly on the way as the carriage trundled over a bump. “You can’t team up on me, I’m the Prince.”

“I think that’s probably why we have to team up on you,” Lucas mused, and Jens was so pleased to hear him respond he didn’t immediately have one of his own.

Sander pointed at him. “I knew I had a good feeling about you. You understand how it all works.”

Lucas didn’t seem as sure, but he just shrugged. “Fast learner.”

“So I was right to pick you,” Jens said. “You’ll be the most coveted servant in no time.”

Lucas rolled his eyes at that, but his slight smile hadn’t disappeared, so Jens knew he hadn’t made a mistake and Lucas heard the teasing. He even seemed prepared to respond, looking at Jens with the same, faintest glimmer of amusement and challenge, and Jens felt his heart thrum. But Lucas just flicked his eyes around Jens’s face before looking away, staring out the small window this time as they returned to silence.

They’d made it out of the Court and the surrounding village, where no one had blinked at the carriage after seeing so many trundle in that morning. Lucas had still seemed more tense then, when the raucous sounds of life had surrounded them and face after face could be glimpsed outside. Jens wasn’t a fan of it, either; he kept waiting for someone to catch sight of him. The journey felt much more peaceful now that they’d made it onto more barren roads. The dirt extended from the path into the fields and flirted with the edge of the forest on the left, making everything a medley of grass green and dusty brown. There was a spark of yellow or red here or there, wilting on branches or melting into the undergrowth where autumn was beginning to strip everything away.

But the sun was still out, and it was playing all those yellows and reds across Lucas’s face and setting his hair alight. Jens watched him while Lucas watched the scenery and he wondered, again, what exactly he had gotten himself into.

He diverted his attention out the window just in time to see the forest shift away, reeling into the distance as it backed off to make space for a stretch of fields. The open space was dotted with wooden buildings, small shelters and cabins that were soon found in closer clusters as they entered a new village. Sander leaned forward to look out as Lucas leaned back, straightening up with his hands curling into fists atop his thighs. Jens stared at him until Lucas felt his gaze and met his eye, and then he offered a reassuring smile.

Lucas allowed it for only a moment before looking away again and clearing his throat. “We should get out soon and walk the rest of the way. The road narrows the further we go. Not really meant for anything more than a horse wide, at most.”

Sander raised his brows, as if shocked that someone would give anything like an ‘order’ to someone like Jens. Sander turned to look at him and Jens shrugged back—he was just amused.

“Here?” he asked Lucas.

Lucas shrugged, taking a closer look out the window before nodding. “You could get another ten yards or so, probably.”

Jens nodded at Sander, who leaned forwards towards the front of the carriage. Lucas started and slid out of his way as Sander almost headbutted him, then the knight managed to get the hatch at the front open and whistled to the coachman. The carriage slowed in an instant, rolling to a stop just as Sander fell back in his seat, knocking his shoulder off Jens’s.

“Sorry, damn,” Sander muttered as Jens shoved him off. Jens was more annoyed that it almost made him miss Lucas’s tiny huff of amusement than about the actual jostling.

Only once they’d settled and all surrounding noise had stopped did Jens open the door and hop out, ignoring Sander’s muttering about ‘improper princes’. The dirt road was firm under his feet, but he’d already collected a layer on his shoes from the landing, which made him wince. Lucas would likely be the one left to clean it, which seemed to make sense and feel entirely unfair at the same time.

He ignored it for now and looked back into the carriage, where Sander gestured for Lucas to go first. Jens held a hand out almost automatically, then felt a little stupid, then shocked out of his dirty shoes when Lucas took it. He curved his fingers carefully over Jens’s palm, only letting his weight bear down lightly as he stepped from the carriage. Only for a moment, and then the touch was gone. Jens would have thought it didn’t even really happen if his hand wasn’t tingling, but it was, and Lucas wasn’t looking at him, and Sander was muttering again.

The knight jumped down and slammed the door shut behind him, giving Jens a withering look as he sniffed. “Thanks for the hand, that was very kind of you.”

Jens blinked, then broke out of it and slapped Sander on the back. “You’re welcome.” He caught Lucas wiping a hand over his mouth, as if he was brushing away a smile, and didn’t bother biting back one of his own.

Sander heaved a sigh and gestured at Lucas. “Well, lead the way.”

Jens lingered to thank the coachman and tell him they hopefully wouldn’t be long, then paused to pet the horses and feed them a couple of sugar cubes before catching up to where Sander and Lucas were waiting. He could see the landscape better now, and cast his eyes around as he fell into step alongside Lucas and Sander followed behind. The road did indeed narrow quickly, turning into more of a path as the grass inched inwards and more houses took up the extra space as they made it into the village. They were quaint and quiet, some with smoke coming from the chimneys and others with their doors open and noise coming from inside.

The center of it all was swallowing them quickly, and Jens straightened as he felt Sander stick closer to his back. Here, there were houses and farms and stalls, people milling around between all the available set-ups and conversing and bartering with their neighbours. It didn’t take long for Jens to feel the weight of a couple of stares, and his shoulders crept up. Lucas glanced at him, but kept tall and straight-backed as he walked, evidently at ease—at home. It took a little longer for Jens to realise the stares were for him, not the prince by his side or the knight following. Of course, he thought, they likely knew where Lucas had been. The whole village probably wondered when and if he would return, and now here he was, walking in with a royal escort.

It really should have been garnering them more attention. But even of the starers, no one said a word. They only had to walk another few yards to realise that it was because focus was directed elsewhere, to a commotion by one of the smaller stalls.

Jens didn’t even think about following Lucas as he furrowed his brow and pushed through the growing crowd, but he heard Sander’s aggrieved sigh and felt the knight’s hand at his back, curled in the fabric of his jacket. The vibrant velvet stood out, the red drawing eyes like a beacon, and the crowd was parting and staring now, raising a new murmur as they made it near the front and caught sight of the scene. Jens was, for once, extra thankful for his height as he gazed over the remaining heads.

He saw what he suspected was the seller’s back first, a tall and fairly burly man with buzzed hair and broad shoulders. He had a tight grip on the arm of another man—or possibly boy—who was much slighter with darker skin and a full, curly head of hair, though he also had a thin mustache and scruff on his chin. Lucas cursed softly under his breath, but Jens was watching as the smaller of the two laughed, the sound seeming nervous as he did his best to hold his hands up and keep the other man at bay. He said something Jens couldn’t hear, and then the man was gripping his throat in one large hand instead and Jens slithered through the remaining gap in the crowd.

“What seems to be the problem here?” he demanded, using his best authoritative tone as he stepped up to the two men. The younger boy looked at him, wide-eyed, but he went ignored by the other. It only worked to piss him off further, so he wrenched the man’s grip away and twisted his arm until he finally acknowledged Jens’s presence with a pained shout.

The crowd had gone utterly silent, now, and it made the boy’s dry gasp more audible as he stumbled back after being released from the choking grip. Jens didn’t look at him yet, focused on the more aggressive threat. The man stared down at him, glaring in pain and trying to wriggle his wrist free before, very slowly, his face went white with recognition, and he froze.

Jens smiled at him, and knew it likely wasn’t his kindest. “That’s better. Now, I believe I asked a question. Do we have a problem here?”

The man gaped a few times, then stuttered something unintelligible before steeling himself and flapping his free arm at the boy. “This kid was trying to steal from my stall,” he growled. Jens noticed he had a slight beard, as well, though it was much lighter and the lines of age were also carved into the skin around his mouth and eyes.

“Trying to?” Jens pressed.

“Lifted one of my fresh apples and stuffed it in his pocket,” the man grunted. “Went to run if I hadn’t been quick enough.”

Jens flicked his eyes around to the boy for just a moment. He was watching on in disbelief, but didn’t seem to have any stolen goods on his person. Jens looked elsewhere and lingered on what must have been the man’s stall, where an array of fruit was laid out but a lone apple sat precariously on the corner. He nodded towards it. “That apple?”

The man nodded hesitantly.

“So he was already unsuccessful in his attempts,” Jens said, raising a brow. “What reason did you have to react with violence?”

The man sputtered, and eventually his face reddened. “The boy’s a thief with a bad mouth! Somebody needs to teach him a lesson.”

Jens considered him, unimpressed. He turned to the boy. “Was that all true? About the stealing?”

“You’re the Prince,” the boy blurted, as if the recognition had only settled in. It seemed like that was probably the case, considering the shock in his expression. When Jens’s brow simply rose further, he settled and answered quietly. “I live with four siblings, my parents, and my grandmother. We were running low.”

Jens’s heart twisted. He pursed his lips and turned back to the man, who was beginning to grimace at the pressure on his wrist. “Sounds like he’s hungry, not a casual bandit. He’s no threat to you. You’ll lose a few extra customers if you always choose to raise your hand like that,” Jens warned.

When the man grunted, but eventually nodded in acceptance, Jens let him go. He moved back to his stall in an instant, wincing as he rubbed over his red skin. Jens turned to the boy instead just as Lucas made it through the crowd, looking as if he was shaking Sander’s grip off of him.

“Christ, Kes,” Lucas muttered when he was close enough. “I haven’t been gone that long, I expected you to be able to stay out of trouble.”

The boy—Kes—had lit up as soon as he laid eyes on him, and he lurched past Jens to clasp Lucas in a tight hug.

Jens blinked as Lucas hugged him back, still seeming to be scolding Kes under his breath. He looked to Sander, who was still standing a couple of feet away, but he looked just as bewildered. He made a face at Jens and shrugged, as if it was strange but not that strange. Which, it probably wasn’t. This was Lucas’s home, he reminded himself. Of course he would have friends here.

“You’ve been gone long enough,” Kes huffed, pulling away from Lucas; though neither of them fully relinquished their grip on the other. Kes looked between Jens and Sander. “But I am planning on killing you myself if you’re just back for a final goodbye. What’s with all this?” He gestured to Jens somewhat dramatically, and Lucas followed the gesture so their eyes met again. Jens tried not to let it make him feel small.

Lucas’s expression was complicated, or Jens just hadn’t at all figured out how to read him yet. They had only known each other a few hours. “‘All this’ has some sort of saviour complex, apparently,” Lucas said.

Sander snorted as Jens frowned, feeling irritation begin to bubble. “A ‘thank you’ would suffice,” he snapped. “Or would you like me to let your friend get pummeled next time?”

“You didn’t know he was my friend,” Lucas dismissed.

“So are you upset now that I wasn’t doing it on your behalf? You’d rather I only defend your honour? Really, I’m beginning to get mixed signals.”

Sander hid his smile behind his hand as Lucas glared and Kes whipped his gaze between them in bewildered intrigue.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Lucas said.

Jens grit his teeth in a likely unpleasant grin. “What exactly is it you want to say then, Lucas? Please, enlighten me.”

“Are we finally giving orders now, Your Highness?”

Oh, Jens shouldn’t have bothered. At this rate, he was going to strangle the boy himself. He had thought they were getting along in the carriage. What was he doing wrong? Why did Lucas insist on being such a brat?

Sander was suddenly at his side again, pressing a hand between his shoulder blades. “Okay, as entertaining as this is—really, you’re both better than a court jester—we should be moving along. And maybe just lower your voices, if you want to continue.”

Jens scowled at him and was only met with raised brows and a pointed nod. He glanced past Sander and caught sight of the crowd, which hadn’t dispersed at all. If anything, it had only grown—the attraction amplified by the Prince inserting himself in the brawl, most likely.

Sander would say he has no self-awareness, but he understood fairly well pretty quickly.

Lucas winced as Kes gave a low whistle. Lucas reached out and Jens tensed, waiting for contact, but it never came. He was simply being herded in the right direction with Kes now leading the way in front of him and Lucas at his back, with Sander bringing up the rear. The knight was smart enough to actually do his job and keep Lucas in his sights, which was probably unnecessary for the expected reasons; but Jens appreciated knowing there was someone watching Lucas’s back, at the moment.

“You could just leave,” Lucas said, and it wasn’t as harsh as Jens expected. “I’m here now. I’m not going to run, I wanted to come home. And now you know Kes and could probably use him as blackmail, or something.”

Kes looked around Jens to gawk at him. “Are you trying to give them ideas?”

“No ideas necessary if he doesn’t run off,” Sander said, shrugging.

“He’s not offering you as a sacrifice, he’s using you to earn my trust. He won’t risk you by getting himself in trouble, knowing we could come after you now,” Jens said bluntly. “Smart, really.”

Lucas huffed. Still no ‘thank you’ on the horizon, then.

Kes was leading them away from the center of the village, winding outwards through a dirt path until the houses became more sparse again. They also seemed smaller here, stuck into the available spaces between fields. Most seemed to be constructed from timber and wattle, and it was so unlike the sturdy stone of the castle walls that Jens felt cold and wobbly looking at them. He had slept in worse places (the forest floor, for example), but he had never lived outside the castle for more than a week at most. His home was a fortress, built with enough care to offer protection and warmth even in the coldest winters. The recognition hit suddenly of just how much of a privilege this was as he took in the fragile shelters around him. He’d only ever seen the outer villages in passing; he hadn’t taken much in or thought to dwell on it. But the realisation that all these people, people like Kes and Lucas, lived out here came as an odd sort of surprise.

Even Sander had once lived somewhere just like this, though Jens had no idea where and Sander never spoke about it. He was giving no reaction now, not that the others would notice, but to Jens he appeared more withdrawn than usual. Since they had made it away from the bustle of the town, he was silent and solemn, which were both unusual traits for him.

Jens supposed it could have had something to do with the people still surrounding them, more and more coming out of their homes as their group passed through and finally made it to a small hut, which Lucas entered without knocking.

The house was small and open—Jens could see most of the space from his half-glimpse inside the door. There seemed to be minimal furniture, and yet what was there was still cluttered, forced together in places it probably shouldn’t be. It was dim, and as odd as it was, Jens almost thought he could feel a breeze coming out of it.

Lucas looked at it with such awe that Jens thought he should probably try to see it differently. All tension melted from his shoulders as he stepped through the threshold and called, “Mama?”

Kes slithered in next to him and set a hand on his shoulder as Jens and Sander hovered outside. “She could be sleeping,” Kes told him softly. “We’ve been checking in on her while you were gone. Isa’s actually been staying.”

Jens didn’t know who Isa was, but he assumed she was the girl who appeared from behind one of the curtains and who was definitely not capable of being Lucas’s mother. Her face lit up when she saw him, however, and Lucas smiled when she barreled into him and wrapped him in a hug. Jens absorbed the expression and tucked it away and wondered just who this girl was.

“I knew you’d be back in no time! I told them it all had to be bullsh—“

“Ies,” Kes cut her off with a hiss, jerking his head towards the open door.

Isa’s eyes landed on them and went comically wide. She gaped, eyes lingering on Jens’s face and Sander’s chainmail, before she dropped into a surprising, slightly awkward curtsy. She leaned in close to Lucas and whispered (rather pointlessly, because they were all close enough to hear everything), “You came back with a knight-in-shining-armour and Prince Charming?”

Lucas only flicked his gaze towards them for a moment. “I would hardly say ‘charming’ is the right word.”

Much like Kes had, Isa gaped at him for the audacity. Jens was begrudgingly beginning to like them.

“You are just getting our roles mixed up, you see,” Sander told her with a winning smile. “Lucas has already learned I’m the charming one. And Jens is more likely his knight-in-shining-armour.”

Jens watched Lucas roll his eyes and rolled his own in response. He turned his own attention to Isa and offered her a smile too, as well as his hand. “It’s nice to see someone aware of the property courtesies, or at least with some basic manners.” He tilted his head pointedly towards Lucas, and the girl laughed, slipping her hand into his. Jens left a kiss to the back of her fingers; he too was aware of his courtesies.

It made Isa flush a pretty pink, and it also made Lucas scoff, which was the main goal. Jens raised his eyebrows at him in a dare to say something about it, but their staring match only lasted a few seconds before they were interrupted by more soft footsteps.

“Luc,” a gentle voice said. Lucas was instantly rushing across the small house to capture an even smaller lady in a hug. She was actually a little taller than Isa, but thinner, and she had Lucas’s light brown hair but not his blue eyes. Still, it wasn’t hard to tell that this was obviously his mother as she clutched him back tightly and he let out a shuddering breath.

Jens’s heart twisted. This was Lucas’s home, that much was clear. It seemed impossible that it had almost been taken away from him that same day. Lucas clearly belonged here with each of these people, regardless of what their connections were, and there would have been heartbreak left behind if he was gone. Jens was even beginning to understand why Lucas detested his ‘help’ so much. He lived his whole life here, and now it would be nothing more than a place to sleep. Even that would be cut short.

“I’m sorry,” he heard Lucas mumble. “I’m so sorry.”

The woman pulled back to cup his face gently in her hands, stroking her thumbs over his cheeks. “Oh, you didn’t do anything wrong, darling. I know you didn’t. I’m so happy they saw that too and you’re safe.”

It was enough to make Lucas stiffen again. “Well, Mama,” he trailed off, because it didn’t matter—she had already caught sight of them in the doorway.

“My, I am so sorry,” she stammered, gripping tighter to her son for a moment before letting go and curtsying as well. Jens really didn’t know where Lucas had gotten his manners, then. She glanced between them and Lucas. “Your Highness. To what do I owe this honour?”

Jens opened his mouth, then quickly closed it again.

Sander rested a hand on his shoulder and stepped up next to him. “We’ve just come to escort Lucas home. There are some...conditions, to his return, that we’ll gladly discuss with you unless Lucas wishes to do so on his own.”

Jens nodded his own agreement and looked to Lucas, who wrapped an arm around his mother but didn’t respond. It was apparently enough permission for the woman to hastily beckon them inside and offer them a drink.

They all crammed into the small seating space. Jens sat with Sander stood just behind him, across from Lucas and his mother. He hadn’t actually thought much about Kes and Isa, and expected them to leave before they discussed Lucas’s situation. But Isa had taken the one spare stool and Kes had leaned against the wall behind her, both of them watching on expectantly. Mostly watching him, with a slightly familiar wide-eyed wonder. It made Jens more nervous than it probably should have. The space was also, as he thought, run through with a terrible chill, and he felt strange shivering in his thick jacket when Lucas looked perfectly collected in his thin, threadbare tunic.

Lucas’s mother had introduced herself as Tess, and poured both visitors a glass of water with trembling hands. It was likely nerves, but she seemed steady and curious as she looked from Jens to Sander and back. “You mentioned conditions? But Lucas isn’t guilty of anything?”

Jens once again looked to the boy in question, who, shockingly, stared back rather defiantly. His look seemed to say, ‘go ahead, you can tell my mother that your mother wants to kill me’.

It was also possible that he was reading too much into things.

“We don’t believe that he is, no,” Jens said softly, looking back to the woman placatingly. “But we also have no proof of his innocence. I’m sure you understand the Queen has to react with caution to any possible threat of treason.”

“But I was here. I am always here,” Tess said firmly. “Surely, I can attest to his innocence?”

“No one can even know when the sword was taken,” Sander said. “Unless you are here every moment of every day with Lucas, it would still not be counted as proof. And I’m afraid as his mother, you’re already likely to be considered as an unreliable witness.”

“So what does that mean? There is no way of proving his innocence? Can’t you find out when the sword was taken? Surely knights aren’t supposed to leave their weapons lying around and would notice before long,” Kes said, clearly sharing his friend’s fiery spark. Jens noted that Lucas seemed a lot more wary in the face of it, flicking his eyes to Kes nervously. His sense did, apparently, extend from his mother to these friends.

Sander just snorted. “No, they’re not. And it will be looked into further, because if Lucas had nothing to do with it we need to know who did.”

“But until then, we can’t absolve Lucas of guilt entirely,” Jens explained. “So, rather than a...harsher punishment, it was agreed upon that Lucas would work for me in the castle.”

“Work for you?” Tess questioned, confused, her eyes flicking briefly to Sander.

Isa snorted, then immediately looked embarrassed about it. “What sort of work is Lucas qualified for? He can’t cook to save his life, and could you imagine him trying to use a sword?”

Lucas frowned at her.

Tess set her hand on Isa’s and gave a squeeze, appearing amused. “I doubt that would even be allowed, sweetie.”

“No,” Jens agreed. “He’ll be my personal servant.”

The room—the house, this space was the whole house—went utterly silent. They all stared at him, blankly or bewildered, and then at Lucas, disbelieving.

Isa was the first to find her voice. “What—what does that actually mean? I mean, what will he be doing?”

“I’m not actually sure of all the details myself,” Jens said slowly. “I’ve never had a manservant, which is partially why I suggested it, but it also means it shouldn’t really involve anything too difficult. Lucas will just be expected to take care of things like meals and clothes, looking after my chambers and my things, accompanying me.”

They absorbed this for a moment. “So he’s basically working as your mother,” Kes said.

“My mother’s the Queen,” Jens said, confused, before realising it was meant to be some kind of joke.

“More like a slave,” Lucas suggested, still bitter. It earned a sharp look and quiet reprimand from his mother, which actually made him shut his mouth and shrink in his seat. Jens marveled at all the power in this tiny woman.

Sander tsked. “Jens would never treat someone that way, and he’s already managed to overrule his mother for you. You’re lucky.”

Lucas didn’t huff or scoff this time, but he looked like he wanted to. It was likely the presence of his mother keeping him at bay, then, not an agreement with Sander’s words.

“It’s just a job,” Jens said, leaning across the table towards Lucas. He didn’t have to go far. “I know that it is meant to be a punishment, but we do not plan to treat it that way. You’re no different to anyone else working in the castle, except you actually have a higher standing than many of them. You will be treated with just as much respect and paid just as kindly as anyone else.”

That finally broke Lucas’s facade enough for him to furrow his brows. “Paid?”

“Maybe out of my own pocket,” Jens admitted, “but yes.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

Jens furrowed his brows back, frowning. “You will not be able to work otherwise to earn anything. You don’t wish to live in the castle. How do you expect to live otherwise?”

“You were invited to live in the castle?” Isa demanded, eyes bright.

Lucas ignored her for the moment and continued to address Jens. “I was under the impression that my life was my payment. Or is it actually not still under threat?”

“Your life?” Tess repeated, shocked. “Have they threatened to kill you?”

Jens winced, but Lucas was already laying a hand on her shoulder placatingly. Still, he didn’t speak up to deny her worries, and her startled, terrified gaze lay heavily on Jens, and he found himself leaning in her direction instead. “Lucas is perfectly safe, I assure you.”

“But he wasn’t, was he?” Kes asked. His gaze was no longer filled with the initial bewilderment and faint awe; it was hard and heavy and filled with questions, as if he was suddenly intent on picking Jens apart. It made Jens oddly nervous, although he was oddly glad Lucas seemed to have these people willing to protect him, looking out for him.

Lucas, thankfully, answered on his own this time. “I was initially sentenced to death.”

Tess sank back in her chair as she stared at him, raising a hand to grip tightly onto his. She was as white as a sheet. Lucas quickly shifted around to look at her more directly, holding onto both her shoulders now and gently stroking his thumbs back and forth. It was the most kindness Jens had witnessed from him so far.

“I’m fine,” he said, at once soft and firm. He flicked a glance at Jens. “His Royal Highness—“ he seemed pained using the full title; Jens was utterly amused “—laughed at the idea, and it seemed that was enough to save me.”

Tess blinked, looking from her son to Jens and back. “I beg your pardon?”

“You laughed?” Isa said, baffled, then immediately looked embarrassed again. Kes sighed as he put a hand on her shoulder.

“To be fair,” Jens defended himself, “it was a rather ridiculous idea.”

“To be fair,” Sander added, “it also worked.”

Jens waved a hand at him in agreement and thanks.

“He convinced Her Majesty that she had no actual reason for such an extreme punishment,” Lucas said quietly, looking at Jens now. “He earned me a second chance and as much freedom as he could.”

“Hang on,” Jens blinked at him. “What is this sudden gratitude?”

A muscle in Lucas’s jaw twitched. “I recognise what you did for me. That does not mean,” he enunciated clearly, “that I have to like you. Regardless of how kind a keeper you view yourself as, you made me your prisoner.”

“He saved your life,” Tess said, but there was no intonation of any argument or rebuke. There was only relief and an overwhelming gratitude of her own; her eyes were shining as she looked at Jens. Jens was grateful when Kes spoke and he had a reason to look away.

“Why would he do that?” The question seemed to be in response to Lucas or Tess, but he was only looking at Jens as he asked it, now even more calculating than before. “You don’t even know Lucas.”

Jens shook his head. “Why should that matter? Even if he is guilty, he doesn’t deserve to die. Even if he had hurt someone, it’s not always so black and white. I didn’t know you, either, when we arrived today, but that didn’t mean you deserved to be harmed.”

Kes leaned back against the wall, dragging his gaze over him appraisingly.

“Thank you,” Tess whispered, dragging Jens’s attention back. He was surprised when she reached over and clasped his hand, squeezing tightly, and Lucas flinched as if making an aborted move to pull her away. “Thank you, so much.”

Jens’s heart warmed, and his throat felt tight. Like he had with Isa, he brought her hand to his lips and lightly kissed the back of her fingers, then squeezed them in return. “I mean it. It’s not to earn thanks. I believe Lucas deserves his safety and I will do what I can to maintain it. I would’ve done the same for anyone.” He cut his eyes to Lucas. “Whether they would be grateful or not is not the point.”

“He also negotiated with the Queen to make sure Lucas could stay here. We were only to escort him back to make sure he really did come home, but he’s free to stay here now and will only be expected to come to the castle every morning to do his duties,” Sander explained.

“Will you have to walk every morning?” Isa asked, disheartened as she looked to her...friend? Something more?

Lucas glanced at Jens.

“Only to the end of the village, where the road widens,” Jens said. “A carriage will wait for him there and bring him back in the evenings.”

When they all stared at him once more, he shrugged. “It will make sure he turns up?”

“It sounds like you’re getting a reward, Luc, not a punishment,” Kes pointed out with a snort. He walked over to clip the back of Lucas’s head. “Maybe stop acting like an ass, yeah?”

Sander let out an aborted laugh, and Jens belatedly realised this was assurance that he’d earned Kes’s approval. It seemed like an important—possibly vital—first step. Even though Lucas scowled and batted him away, he didn’t complain, and his following glance at Jens didn’t seem filled with quite as much disdain. Jens chanced softening his own gaze, and Lucas clenched his jaw and looked away.

“Boys,” Tess admonished half-heartedly. “We still have company.”

Jens drew his gaze away from Lucas and offered her a smile. “We should be getting going, though.”

“I’m sure he has things to do, Mama,” Lucas said, in a drawl that let Jens know he was about to be mildly insulted. “Orders to give, hair to fix.”

Jens straightened and raised a hand to his head, running fingers through the strands curling over his face. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

Lucas raised a brow at him, as if he’d just proven an excellent point.

Sander clapped a hand on his shoulder. “He’s teasing you, idiot. About how you probably only care about your hair? Even though it does fall flat because this—“ he ruffled Jens’s already messy hair “—is atrocious, you still managed to prove his point. Who lets you outside?”

“You?” Jens said hesitantly, then frowned. “Wait.”

“Did you just...forget you’re the Prince?” Kes asked.

Jens opened his mouth to protest and jumped as the door banged open instead. He twisted around to see and had to peek around Sander, who instantly moved in front of him at the intrusion.

In the doorway was yet another boy with wildly curly hair and a light scruff. He had a full water bucket hoisted in his arms and his foot was still slightly raised from where he’d kicked the door open. He was staring at the large group of people cluttered in the small space, taking in Sander’s hand on the hilt of his sword and then Jens peeking out from behind him, before his eyes found Lucas.

“Luc!”

His hands loosened dangerously on the bucket and he fumbled for a moment as water sloshed around the rim. Kes appeared in front of him in an instant and hastily took over, yelping out a “careful, Jayden” as water splashed over his shirt. He managed to get the bucket from Jayden and carefully set it down out of the way, and Jayden was already moving forward with a grin.

He halted after a single step, however, eyes landing on the looming knight in his path. He flicked his gaze down to where Sander’s hand still rested and back up. Jens curled his fingers in Sander’s sleeve and gave a quick tug, but Sander remained and narrowed his eyes at Jayden.

Jayden blinked. Then narrowed his eyes back.

Sander nodded in approval at the handling of the stare-down and immediately backed off, leaning casually against the wall beside Jens again.

Jens huffed, used to the antics by now. Jayden only looked bewildered for a second before moving on in favour of bounding around to Lucas and wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug. “Shit, I was sure they were gonna kill you or something.”

The others shared a look. Lucas simply patted Jayden’s back.

Sander tapped Jens’s shoulder, and Jens convinced himself to get to his feet. Lucas nudged Jayden off of him and looked up at them. “Do you need me to walk back with you?”

Jens tilted his head, surprised that there was no teasing or sarcasm in the comment, and marveled at the manners Lucas seemed to learn within minutes of his mother’s presence. “No, the deal was to bring you right here. We’re not going to drag it out.”

“I meant so you don’t get killed,” Lucas said dryly.

Jayden suddenly, and finally, hissed, “Lucas, isn’t that the fucking Prince? What are you doing?!”

“Language,” Tess quickly reprimanded, offering Jens a nervous, apologetic smile.

Isa patted Jayden’s arm and quietly assured him they’d fill him in later as Jens cocked a brow at Lucas.

“I can take care of myself,” he said easily.

“You mean you never go anywhere without a knight and they’re under strict orders to protect you?”

“No,” Sander huffed. “Weren’t you watching him like a hawk earlier? He can take care of himself.”

Lucas looked dubious.

Within a second, Jens was leaned across the table with a dagger tucked gently under Lucas’s chin. He heard a few gasps and one cry of protest, but Lucas only drew a sharp breath and stared back at him through slightly wide eyes. “I’m not sure how you think this works,” Jens murmured. “But Sander’s only had a sword in his hands for a couple of years. I’ve had a knife in my belt since I could walk. I’m already the one protecting you, don’t forget. I can take care of myself.”

Lucas swallowed, and Jens drew the dagger back enough that it wouldn’t pierce his skin when Lucas refused to lean away. “Okay. Point taken.”

Jens rolled his eyes and slipped the dagger away again, leaning out of Lucas’s space and moving towards the door. “Sunrise,” Jens reminded him. “Your carriage awaits.”

He was aware of Sander’s quiet laughter as he followed him out and pointedly ignored it. He’d barely gotten three yards before someone had caught up with him, and a gentle voice was calling, “Your Highness.”

He paused and turned back to Tess, feeling oddly nervous all of a sudden. He had just held a dagger to her son’s throat right in front of her and left without another word, after all, and following all his judgment of Lucas’s manners, he probably should have recognised that might be rather rude. Still, he just straightened his shoulders and asked, “Yes?”

“I just wanted to apologise for Lucas,” she said quietly, looking down now as she wrung her hands. “I know that it is not proper, but it’s partly my fault. He’s very protective.”

Jens let his posture soften and stepped closer, bringing his hand up to touch her arm lightly. “I could see that right away. He wanted nothing more than to come back to you. I understand his anger at how much this disrupts his life here.”

“I don’t know what we have done to deserve such kindness from you.” Her voice wobbled, but she looked up at him now. “He is scared and will not recognise it, but I do, and I cannot thank you enough. I know it is wrong of me to ask you for more…”

“He’ll be safe,” Jens assured her. “He will adjust, and I’ll keep him safe. I promise.”

She reached for his hand and held it tightly between her own, squeezing once. “Thank you,” she repeated, breathless with her relief.

Jens kissed her knuckles again, overwhelmed with sympathy. He wanted to ask where her partner was, Lucas’s father, because he thought it would help him understand but knew he would not like the answer. Instead he gave her hand a final squeeze, allowed her to see the promise in his gaze, then glanced back through the open doorway.

He could still see Lucas, still at his place at the tiny table, but now his head was tilted back and his mouth was open in laughter as he looked up at Kes. The noise of them all filtered out, their easy familiarity and joy, and Jens turned away quickly and nodded to Sander.

Sander led them back to the carriage in silence, and his confident stride stopped anyone from speaking up or approaching. Only when they’d made it back out of the village and onto the small path did he fall in step with Jens and speak up. “You’re going to have your hands full with him, y’know.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Jens huffed.

“He didn’t even flinch.”

“He looked happy about it.”

Sander barked a laugh, clapping his hands together as they reached the carriage. He patted the horse’s flank on the way past and winked at the coachman, who gave him a two-fingered salute in response. “He’s a treat. I can’t wait.”

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #prince!jens au #vds royalty au

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Jens raced down the hallway and burst through the doors to his chambers. He looked around the room wildly, heartbeat picking up as he came up empty. He strode across the room to the door in the far wall, silently begging, and didn’t hesitate before barging in there, too.

This graced him, finally, with what he was searching for, and he heaved out a breath of relief at the sight of Lucas.

A very naked Lucas, he realised belatedly.

He cursed in surprise, his hand flying to cover his eyes as Lucas finally noticed him and yelped in response.

“Oh, for the love of—do you never knock?” Lucas demanded, voice unusually high.

“Sorry,” Jens squeaked. “Sorry, I’m sorry. But I mean—“ he peeked through his fingers, resolutely keeping his gaze above Lucas’s waist as the other man scrambled to pull on his pants “—it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Sorry,” Jens repeated, softer. He’d squeezed his eyes shut again, but he began to slowly lower his hand after hearing the rustling stop. Then there were soft footsteps, a nearing heat, and gentle hands slid over his, smoothed up along his wrists and back down to take a light grip on his fingers. Jens squeezed and breathed as his pulse settled. “Decent?”

“Enough,” Lucas hummed. “I won’t test your patience, because obviously you’re in a rush. What’s wrong?” He brushed his lips over Jens’s jaw in a familiar soothing gesture.

Jens let his eyes flutter open and gazed down at him, finding his upper half still bare. He swallowed as Lucas raised his brows at him, appearing simultaneously unimpressed and amused. He felt his cheeks flush. “Nothing,” he murmured. He squeezed Lucas’s hands once more, then let go to skim his touch up Lucas’s arms and settle on his shoulders. He gripped on, letting his thumbs rub circles in the junctures of Lucas’s neck and shoulders. It wasn’t a particularly unusual touch, and it wasn’t quite as intimate as other gestures they had shared, and so it didn’t make his veins sing the way it may have a month ago. But it was a comfort, and it still felt like a novelty.

Lucas’s brow furrowed, and the eyes underneath flickered searchingly over Jens’s face. He let his hands drift to Jens’s waist and pulled him a step closer. “You didn’t think I would be here. You burst in because you weren’t expecting to find me.”

Jens’s lips parted and closed again. He couldn’t lie to Lucas. He had never been able to, and he wasn’t about to start now. “No,” he admitted, his flush deepening. “I thought…”

He couldn’t say any more, but he didn’t have to for Lucas to understand. “Did you really think I’d leave?” Lucas asked quietly.

Jens found that he could not answer this, either.

“Jens.” Lucas removed a hand from his waist and knocked it against his chin, tilting his head up so their eyes met. “It was a stupid comment. I do not care what he says or what he thinks. I only care about you. You’ll have to try a lot harder than that to get rid of me.”

Jens squeezed his eyes shut again. It was not for Lucas’s dignity this time, but his own. He tilted his head forward until it rested against Lucas’s, and Lucas kissed the spot on his chin his thumb had occupied a moment before. “I would understand if you wanted to leave, Luc. You always have. I don’t expect to keep you here, but I...I want to.”

“Things have changed,” Lucas said simply, voice soft and lilting, so familiar to Jens in a way he never expected. The tone lightened further as Lucas attempted to soothe the situation. “And other things haven’t. Your mother would still have my head before I got far.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Jens admonished, but his lips quirked against his will. They morphed into a full smile at Lucas’s small, breathy laugh, and he couldn’t resist seeking out the sound. He guided their lips together carefully, letting them meet in a light caress, only for Lucas to huff and pull him closer with a hand on either side of his face.

Lucas kissed him hard, with a surety that both melted and rebuilt Jens. It barely lasted half a minute and had only the briefest flicker of a tongue, but it left Jens wrung out and licking his lips when Lucas pulled away, chasing the lingering, tingling taste. His heart stuttered as Lucas stroked his face and gazed at him with intent.

“I would never leave you behind,” Lucas said, firmly enough that there was no room for questions. “And if in some unlikeliness I ever did, or was forced to, then I would still always come back for you.”

#van der stoffels #vds #this is just to get me back into the swing of this #and as a special request 😙 #wtfock #skam nl #prince!jens au #vds royalty au

[peaceoutofthepieces]

you were my crown

chapter 4

Ao3

~^~ The scrape and swoosh of curtains opening followed by a blast of light to his face woke Jens up. He winced and jerked away, raising a hand in front of his face before he came to his senses enough to shoot up and look around in bewilderment.

Lucas stood watching him by the window with his arms crossed over his chest and head cocked, completely unimpressed.

Jens pulled the covers up over his chest with a sputter. “What are you doing?”

“My job,” Lucas said bluntly, rolling his eyes slightly at Jens’s gesture and pointedly turning away. “I didn’t pick you for the modest type. Does this mean I won’t actually have to be involved in your bathing?”

It was too early. There was too much in that little bit of speech to parse through with his sleep-addled brain. It was too early to be reminded of Lucas’s heavy sarcasm and persistent disrespect. He did not have the energy to step up to the taunting, nor was he awake enough to fret over Lucas connecting him and modesty and bathing all at once and how that made him jittery.

Jens let the covers slip away from him carefully, ignoring the sleep still clinging to his limbs to step out of bed, ambling his way to the table. Faux confidence carried him to where Lucas had laid out his breakfast. Well, ‘laid out’ was generous. He saw Lucas look over his shoulder at him as he lifted the plate and drew it with him to the head of the table. Only when he sat down did he allow himself to look back at Lucas, finding the boy’s gaze quickly glancing off his stomach.

“These are, obviously, private chambers.” Jens raised a brow. “You’re supposed to knock.”

Lucas met his eye and raised a brow back. “I did. Multiple times. And I called your name. I thought someone might have offed you in your sleep, and the door was open, so.”

Jens sunk slightly in his chair and repeated, “You’re supposed to knock. Wait to be invited. You’ll lose this position right away if you don’t obey basic courtesies like that.”

“Pity,” Lucas said dryly.

“It will be, when you’re dead.”

Lucas’s expression went blank at that, and he turned away to neaten the curtains. Jens glanced at his breakfast, then returned to watching Lucas’s back.

“The carriage was waiting for you?” he asked. “You found it okay?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Lucas replied calmly, his tone clipped with mock politeness. As he turned around and slowly came closer to Jens, however, some of the usual passive aggressive emotions slid from his expression. “It was better than walking would have been, I imagine.”

Jens tilted his head and failed to hide a small grin. He knew the chances were high that such a response would simply shut Lucas away again, but he couldn’t help it. “Is that a thank you?”

Lucas scoffed and rolled his eyes, but didn’t retreat, which Jens took as both a positive answer and sign.

“You’re off to an okay start, otherwise,” Jens offered. “I mean, you’re here, and you managed to bring breakfast. Sander’s tour must have been worth something.”

Lucas hummed. “Sander met me at the door,” he admitted.

Jens laughed. Lucas’s lips twitched at the reaction, and Jens thought, pleaded, Maybe. Maybe, hopefully, eventually. It seemed unlikely that they would ever be friends; it seemed impossible that they wouldn’t have to be something.

Jens had earned himself a new companion, someone who would be able to take the edge off the loneliness of his life, and he had doomed himself to one less possible friend. It wouldn’t be a real option even if Lucas didn’t hate him—because Lucas was his servant and had his own friends, and Jens couldn’t really have any.

It cut his laughter down abruptly, and he had to remind himself that it didn’t matter. It wasn’t about him. He couldn’t have let anything happen to Lucas, to any innocent, and that was all.

He managed to keep his smile, and gestured at the seat next to him, nudging the second plate towards Lucas. “Come eat.”

Lucas blinked at him. Then he pursed his lips. “I don’t need your scraps.”

“Well, good, because I usually try not to leave any. But you should eat your own breakfast before it goes cold.” Jens pushed the chair out with his foot, making Lucas step back.

“My own breakfast?”

Jens nodded at the plate, smile twitching. “What else was that supposed to be for?”

Lucas hesitated. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “I thought…”

“You thought I was going to stuff my face while you’re expected to starve?” Jens guessed. When Lucas pursed his lips again instead of replying, Jens huffed in amusement. “The servants also get meals, Lucas. Usually they eat breakfast earlier, though it depends on the job. You would be expected to eat yours first before coming to me, so you’d be ready to start your duties.” His smile widened. “Here I was thinking you’d simply wanted to eat with me.”

There was a slight flush to Lucas’s cheeks, but he still managed a derisive huff at the statement. However, he finally moved, carefully taking the seat Jens had offered at his right hand. He pulled himself close to the table as Jens pushed the plate in front of him, then hesitated. “I had something to eat before I left home,” Lucas said.

Jens poked at his egg, then took a bite. “What did you have?”

“Just...some fruit,” Lucas mumbled.

“If you don’t want to eat it, that’s alright,” Jens said. “But it’s for you.” Then, “I can’t imagine fruit is all that filling. Have more when it’s available to you, Lucas.”

Lucas appeared as if he was going to argue again, then swallowed the words down and dug in. Jens watched him only long enough to make sure he didn’t actually dislike the food or wouldn’t change his mind, then politely glanced away and focused on his own meal. It was rude to watch someone else eat, is what he’d always thought, but he couldn’t help shooting occasional looks at Lucas, couldn’t help but notice the way he quickly devoured the food once given permission.

When he paused a moment to rub at his chest and clear his throat, Jens wordlessly poured a cup of water and handed it to him.

Lucas took it with a small, surprised ‘thank you’, and gazed at Jens for a moment before finishing off his food. It was, admittedly, less than Jens’s and probably not entirely as appetizing, but it was mainly down to Lucas’s speed that he was finished when Jens still had a quarter of his plate left. Lucas grew a little awkward at the realisation, but simply shrunk back in his chair and sipped at his water before asking, “What should I do, now?”

“Let your food sink,” Jens said. “There’s no rush. I won’t personally need you much today. You might be asked to do the polishing, but don’t let anyone bully you into cleaning anyone’s things but mine. That isn’t your job, and if anyone tries to make it one, tell me. Likewise with the stables and the horses. You can help out in any cases you want to, but we already have people doing those things, so just tend to whatever is mine. Okay?”

Lucas nodded hesitantly. He looked a bit nauseous; Jens wasn’t sure if he was overwhelmed or had just eaten too quickly.

He found himself trying to be reassuring regardless. “Sander will guide you around for the day, anyway.” He furrowed his brow, looking around at the door as the realisation occurred to him. “Isn’t he supposed to be here, anyway? And weren’t there supposed to be guards stationed outside my door?”

Lucas shrugged. “Sander said if it was my job to get you your breakfast now there was no reason for him to traipse after me. I guess the guards idea hasn’t been implemented yet.”

“My mother might not be happy,” Jens said, swallowing thickly. Trying to eat faster so Lucas wouldn’t have to sit and watch him was not working well. “But it’s her own mistake, so I guess we enjoy it while we can.”

This made Lucas quirk a brow at him, but this time he did not seem annoyed at Jens’s smile. In fact, it almost looked like he wanted to return it. Instead, Lucas looked away, taking in the room. It only lasted a moment before he was inevitably drawn back to Jens’s bare torso.

Jens sat back in his seat, and Lucas’s gaze flickered up to him. “Ask,” Jens said.

Lucas shook his head. “I won’t. If you want to tell me, then you will. It’s not any of my business.”

It wasn’t a surprising response, really; not from Lucas. Jens considered him, then prodded at the jagged scar on his stomach, cutting through the muscle like lightning. “I’m not modest,” he said eventually. “I’m just never sure of how people will react.”

“It’s just a scar,” Lucas replied. It wasn’t dismissive, nor was it comforting; it was fact. There was no judgment or pity in Lucas’s voice, none of the usual irritation or sarcasm. He showed a faint curiosity and nothing more. “I have one on the back of my shoulder from falling out of the bed when I was seven. One on my foot from where a calf stood on me. This—“ he brandished the inner side of his left arm at Jens “—from when I fell off a cart with Kes and broke my arm. Should I go on?”

Jens huffed, shaking his head. But he leaned his arms on the table and accepted the truths for one of his own. “I was stabbed when I was ten. They would have sliced me in half if they could’ve. Probably should have died, honestly. My father did.”

Lucas’s eyes darkened and he pressed his lips together.

It was something everyone knew, the trajedy that killed the King. It had been more of a battle than a war, because it had done nothing but silently brew until that single fight. The culprits had all died in the process or been caught in the aftermath, at least, and the kingdom had mourned and rallied together.

But then there was this.

“I didn’t know anyone else had been involved,” Lucas said, quietly. “I mean, with the rest of the family. I thought they were only after the King. No one ever said any different.”

Jens shrugged. It wasn’t as heavy as it once would have been. “I guess they thought I would just be the next King if they didn’t do something about it. And I would’ve been, if I hadn’t almost died. It was the only reason my mother took over.”

“You were ten,” Lucas said, dumbfounded. “You were a child. You couldn’t have been a leader or a threat.”

“I still don’t think I could be,” Jens returned with a slight laugh. “But different people will always expect different things.”

Lucas stared at him as if he had never seen him before, or was seeing something new. He leaned forward as if to settle on the table with Jens, but was interrupted by a knock and the door swinging open.

Jens whipped his gaze around, expecting to see Sander or one of the boys again, and instead catching sight of his sister.

Lies strode over to them with all her usual elegance, the pale green lace of her dress sleeves flowing around her arm as she lifted her hand in a greeting. She made a thorough examination of Lucas and no attempt to hide it, before settling an unimpressed look on Jens.

“You know,” Jens told her, “the purpose of knocking is completely defeated when you don’t wait for an answer.”

“I was worried you were being murdered,” Lies said, too loftily to be serious. She looked from Jens to Lucas. “But he’s harmless, isn’t he? Aside from the killer looks.”

Lucas snorted in surprise, then immediately covered his mouth with his hand. Jens blinked at him before staring sharply at his sister.

Lies rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you know he’s not for me. A little...delicate, for my taste. Surely someone’s catch, though,” she quickly added in Lucas’s direction, who dismissed the assurances with a flick of his hand and an amused smile.

“Did you want something?” Jens asked, brow raised.

“I brought gifts,” Lies said, gesturing behind her to where two guards now stood in the doorway. Lucas sat up in his seat at the sight and shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, and Jens shot another sharp look at his sister. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just following orders to take care of my little brother.”

“You’re not even ten minutes older than me, Lies.”

She, predictably, ignored him. “I also have orders to give.”

“What, so you aren’t just here to stick your nose in?”

“Well,” she shrugged, looking at Lucas again. “I had to see what you’ve made all the fuss about.”

“I haven’t made a fuss.”

“Are the orders for me?” Lucas asked, interrupting their bickering with an unusually polite tone and patient expression.

Of course, he would even like Jens’s twin better.

Lies indulged him with one of her most winning smiles. “No, no. For you, I simply wished to introduce myself.” She stepped further into the room, rounding behind Jens to Lucas’s side of the table. He rose to meet her, and her smile widened. “I’m Lies.”

Lucas bowed and held out his hand. Lies slipped her own into it easily, and Lucas brought it to his lips in a gentle kiss. His eyes flicked past Lies to Jens, pointed and mocking, and Jens felt himself bristle again. The understanding he had thought passed between them just moments ago slipped through his fumbling fingers as if it had never truly been within reach.

“It’s an honour to meet you, Princess,” Lucas said. Jens really might kill him himself, eventually. “I’m Lucas.”

Lies hummed, amused. “How chivalrous. You’ll have to be careful where you take him, he might be new competition.” She winked over her shoulder at Jens.

“I don’t go anywhere,” Jens said, confused. “Nor do I compete for anything.”

Lucas snorted again, and this time something thrummed in Jens’s chest.

Meanwhile, Lies sighed and ruffled Jens’s hair, finally parting from Lucas’s careful hold. “Pardon, Lucas, it seems like I do have an order for you. Try in some of your time here to make this one less boring, will you? This is joyless.”

“I’m not sure it’s possible, Your Highness, but for you I’ll try.”

Lies beamed at Lucas, clapped her hands once, then pointed sternly at a scowling Jens. “And, for you, mother dearest has ordered a family lunch.”

Jens blinked. It wasn’t entirely unusual that they would have such family get-togethers, but it wasn’t entirely usual either. They were reserved for special dates, birthdays and anniversaries and the like, or for announcements their mother wished to break to them before anyone else. It was certainly no one’s birthday, and as far as Jens knew, it was not an anniversary either. “Moyo and Aaron are still here. I’m supposed to meet them for lunch before they leave again.”

“Don’t argue with me, Jens, I’m just the messenger. Take it up with her if you want.” Lies shrugged, already on her way back out the door.

Jens looked back to Lucas, who had already returned to facing him with his arms crossed. Jens tucked his own arms around his stomach, his thumb absently rubbing over the scar there. He was not modest, and likewise, he was not self-conscious, but then again, he never had anyone looking at him that wasn’t his family or Robbe, with Senne and Sander being the odd exception. None of the maids have ever really seen him in such undress, even, despite readying baths and bedsheets and the more complicated clothing he was so often forced to wear; this was outer garments or just the buttons, laces and ties he could not manage himself.

He felt barer when it was Lucas. This wasn’t exactly embarrassing or scary or uncomfortable. He wouldn’t have sat with Lucas so long if it had been, and he wouldn’t have mentioned the marring of his skin himself. But it was unfamiliar; it was new. He felt twitchy and hot in the face of it. Unsure.

Thankfully, Lucas was as unaffected as ever and spoke up first. “I can see the similarity.”

Jens raised a brow. “We’re not identical.” Lies’s hair and eyes were lighter, and she wasn’t quite as tall, and her face seemed both softer and more delicate than Jens’s at once. There were similarities amongst all of them, but they bore no closer resemblance to each other than they did to their mother or Lotte.

“No, far from it,” Lucas agreed. “She is much more likable.”

Jens resisted the urge to throw food at him.

Lucas’s lips twitched as if he could tell. “Does this mean I won’t have to bring you lunch?”

“No,” Jens sighed. “It also means I won’t be able to guide you through anything until after that. But I’m sure that doesn’t disappoint you.”

Lucas simply shrugged.

“I’ll tell Sander. You could have lunch with the boys, if you want,” Jens suggested.

“Could I?”

It wasn’t hopeful. It was not a request, not curiosity, not to seek permission. It was dubious, deadpan disbelief. Jens supposed Lucas was right not to expect the offer to be casual or genuine; servants were there to serve.

“You would have been there with me, anyway. You are expected to stick with Sander for the most part. And you have to eat, regardless. Join them with Sander, if you want to.”

Lucas considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. What until then?”

“First,” Jens rose to his feet, “you’ll help me find one of these ridiculous shirts my mother likes and then help me get it on.” He moved towards his wardrobe, and looked over his shoulder when Lucas did not follow.

Lucas blinked at him. “Seriously?”

Jens huffed a laugh. “Welcome to the life of a Prince.”

|*~^~*|

The only saving grace about having lunch with his family was Lotte. She had beamed at Jens when he came in, then immediately scowled as he ruffled her hair. Now she was perched next to him at the table, one foot hooked up onto the chair out of sight of their mother who, of course, sat at the head. Lies sat across from him, managing to look both bored and completely composed at once.

It was becoming concerning. They had gotten through the first half of their food on idle chit-chat, and Ellis hadn’t told them why they were here.

Lies, like Jens, kept flicking looks at her. Like she was waiting, but not like she was curious. Like she knew.

“Care to fill us in?” Jens eventually prompted.

His mother looked up at him as Lies faltered with her food. “Pardon?” Ellis asked.

Jens flicked a hand between them. “Whatever it is we’re all gathered about. Whatever you’ve already obviously talked to Lies about.”

Ellis sighed, considering her plate before passing a hand over her mouth. She folded her arms over each other and looked at him steadily. “You are going to need to start preparing to take over the throne.”

Jens blinked.

“Isn’t Jens already doing that?” Lotte asked, with the easy, childish curiosity Jens didn’t feel he was allowed to have.

It made their mother gentle, which shouldn’t have been a relief. Jens knew how much she adored her youngest daughter; even if she didn’t have much time to show it. “Of course,” she began to explain. “It has always been the path he’s been on. But I mean, really start preparing. Deciding what kind of leader you will be...and who you will have by your side.”

“But…” Jens hated how small he sounded, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Why? You aren’t going anywhere. What’s the sudden change?”

“You can never be too prepared,” Ellis said lightly. “Besides, you can assume the throne any time. It is not always a passage that only follows death.”

“But there’s no need. And I don’t want to.”

Lies huffed. It sounded considerably less amused than when she’d been trading teases with Lucas in his chambers this morning. “You know this isn’t about what anyone wants, Jens.”

Jens frowned at her, feeling shame and irritation bubble in his chest at once. It didn’t dissipate when his mother covered his hand with her own.

“She’s right. You’ve always known your duty.” She took a breath that turned into a sigh. “And the kingdom has always been restless under the rule of a single queen. You know it was never supposed to be my throne.”

It threw him back in his chair. Of course he knew—he’d admitted the same fact to Lucas just this morning. The realisation made him dizzy now.

The kingdom was restless about their Queen?

It seemed impossible. Since his father’s death, there had never been an attempt on the throne. The kingdom had never been more cohesive, more peaceful. It had never run smoother than it has while guided by the flick and flow of Ellis’s hand. They loved her. Jens heard the nasty comments about their family in general, about any kind of royalty, but even those people always held a grudging respect for the woman after meeting her.

But Jens didn’t go anywhere. He didn’t see anyone, not really. No one that wasn’t already close to their family.

If there were rumbles of disloyalty, how would he know?

If those people existed and discovered Ellis had somewhat stolen the throne, what would happen?

How stupid and reckless could Jens be, and why did Lucas specifically seem to bring it out in him?

He realised immediately and with abrupt clarity that he absolutely could not admit this to his mother, and pressed his lips tightly shut.

Lucas didn’t even care. He didn’t say anything about that. You chose to trust him only a day ago. Don’t change your mind now. He hasn’t given you a reason to yet.

He didn’t bother acknowledging that by the time ‘yet’ arrived, it might be too late. It wouldn’t help.

“I...I wouldn’t rule any differently,” he said, swallowing. “And Senne would just move into his father’s position, right? He and Sander would be there, and Robbe.”

Ellis smiled, but it looked more like a pursing of lips. “Of course, I assumed as much. But that’s not what I mean, darling. A single king may be an improvement, but the ideal kingdom is run by a king and his queen.”

Jens stared at her. “Hang on. You’ve arranged this to tell me I need to get a wife?”

Lotte sunk away at the snap in his voice, and he glanced at her in apology. Lies seemed entirely unaffected, sitting with her chin propped on bridged hands.

“You’re the Prince, Jens,” Ellis said, stroking his hand gently. “And you’re beautiful, and charming, and the people love you. Everyone has already been waiting years for you to find your Princess.”

“Hoping they’ll be the lucky one,” Lies added, with only half the sarcasm Jens was sure she wanted to use.

Jens shook his head. “It’s not my fault I just haven’t met anyone like that.”

“Well.” His mother drew her hand away. “That’s why I’ve invited King Ackermans and his daughter.”

Oh. Oh, no. No way.

Lotte understood just as quickly. “Wait, Jens doesn’t even get to choose?” She seemed appalled at the idea, leaving Jens feeling very justified in his own anger.

“It’s not set in stone,” Ellis said. “But I think it is a good match.”

Jens’s fury must have been showing on his face. She hastened to add, “You and Jana used to be such lovely friends when you were children, Jens, surely you remember.”

Yes, Jens thought, when we were children. The last time he had seen Jana was before his father died—a good ten years ago. The last time she had come from the bordering kingdom was for his father’s funeral, when Jens hadn’t even gotten to see her, still on his own deathbed.

“You’re lucky that it can be this simple,” Lies said.

Jens gritted his teeth. “Easy for you to say when nothing rests on you,” he snapped.

Lies glared at him, clearly prepared to retort, before Lotte leaned towards her and quietly pleaded, “Don’t fight.”

Her mouth snapped shut, and she glanced at her little sister before carefully relaxing in her chair.

Jens didn’t want to fight, either, but he was too annoyed to settle. He pushed away from the table, the scrape of the chair loud and grating on his nerves further. He pointedly avoided Lies’s apologetic eyes and Lotte’s crestfallen expression, but Ellis never knew how to go ignored.

“Jens,” she called after him. “You haven’t even finished your lunch, for pity’s sake, sit down!”

He let the door slam shut behind him.

|*~^~*|

Robbe met Lucas’s eyes as he crept through the open doors to the stables and quickly raised a finger to his lips. He was impressed when Lucas gave absolutely no reaction—no questioning gaze, no raised brow, no quirk of the lips. Lucas simply glanced over him as if he wasn’t there, exactly how he wanted.

It made it all too easy for him to creep up on Sander.

He made it to the knight entirely unnoticed and quickly curled his fingers around Sander’s sides, digging in with enough pressure to feel like a jab and enough lightness that it wouldn’t hurt. The result was exactly as intended; Sander jolted and whirled on Robbe with his hand moving to grasp a sword that wasn’t there. Just as quickly, the hand was around Robbe’s throat. Then it dropped even quicker.

“I could have killed you,” Sander said, with his usual brand of over-expression that could have just as easily been under. The tone was indignant, the words irritated, the pout of the lips a whine, the light in the eyes fond. All were out in force, and all conflicted and made each other lesser.

Robbe snorted in response. “Uh-huh.”

“Seriously, Robbe,” Sander frowned. He was fixing Robbe’s collar with one hand; the other was slipping around Robbe’s wrist. “You need to stop with that.”

“Because it annoys you that I can still do it so easily?”

Sander sniffed. “I knew somebody was there.”

“No, you didn’t,” Lucas said.

Robbe had forgotten he was there, but when he shifted his eyes from Sander he saw the boy was grooming Jens’s horse and not even looking at them. He seemed caught up in the brushing motion, petting his other hand along the horse’s side absentmindedly. He looked more content than Robbe had seen him so far.

“How would you know?” Sander demanded.

Lucas looked over to raise a brow at him. “I was here.”

Sander opened his mouth to argue, then simply huffed and waved Lucas off, returning to where he’d been fixing a strap on his own saddle. He didn’t quite let go of Robbe right away, so Robbe was drawn to his side in the process. He couldn’t say he minded.

He poked Sander’s side. “Don’t be mad,” he requested.

Sander huffed again. It faded midway as Robbe leaned his chin on Sander’s shoulder and knocked their heads together lightly. Sander’s hands paused for a second, and he was smiling by the time they resumed their task.

“That’s better,” Robbe grinned, pushing himself away to wander towards Lucas. “Are you two joining us for lunch? I’d rather not listen to Moyo and Aaron alone.”

“You can’t survive a day without me, that’s all,” Sander called over his shoulder. Robbe glanced back just in time to catch Sander’s wink and rolled his eyes, despite the warmth in his stomach and his growing smile. Sander hung up his saddle and returned to Robbe’s side, knocking their shoulders together, as tactile as Robbe himself.

Robbe loved him.

He loved Jens, and he loved his mother, and he loved his other friends, but none of them were like Sander. Losing his mother would break his heart, and losing Jens would be something like losing a limb; he’d never function the same.

But Sander…Robbe couldn’t bring himself to imagine what it would be like to lose Sander.

He wasn’t sure what that meant.

He just knew he felt content when Sander easily pulled him to his side, softer today without the usual chainmail or cloak. It was just a washed-out black tunic for Robbe to rest his cheek against. Soft and worn; comfortable and familiar.

He was startled when Lucas spoke. “Are you sure it’s alright?”

“Jens told you it was, didn’t he?” Sander said. “He’s not testing you or anything. He’s not that smart.”

Robbe made a small sound to rebuke him, which Sander predictably ignored.

Lucas only huffed, then hesitantly shook his head. “I know Jens said so, but that doesn’t mean…it isn’t really your duty to babysit me. We don’t have to be friends.”

Sander’s hand tightened for half a second on Robbe’s shoulder, and a pained look crossed his face. Robbe understood. Sander had been just as unsure of their kindness in the beginning.

“No one has to be,” Robbe agreed, quickly. “But that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re asking you if you want to join us for lunch because we’d like you to.”

“And because you’ve already been brushing that horse for seventeen minutes. You are going to get tired of it eventually,” Sander added.

Lucas’s hands dropped quickly to his sides, and he looked at Sander in bewilderment. “How would you even know that?”

Sander snorted. “I was here,” he lightly mocked.

Lucas narrowed his eyes at him, but his lips were twitching. Robbe got it—Sander was irresistible. It made his heart swell with pride and clench at once. Something in him tripped and faltered as Sander left him to take the brush from Lucas and put it away before clasping Lucas’s shoulder.

The fears he’d developed yesterday seemed real, all of a sudden. He’d half-talked to Jens about it while lying on his bed, while Sander had still been missing—busy with Lucas. He’d been overthinking it while Sander was away with Lucas and Jens. He could picture it with sudden clarity, now. It wasn’t just new duties that would be taking up Sander and Jens’s time; it was a whole person. A person with whom feelings and care could be involved. A person that would be involved with all of them, even if he had only been altering one dynamic.

Robbe curled his arms around his stomach and wrapped the feeling away. Neither Sander or Jens would leave him behind. The notion on its own was ridiculous.

Lucas could be Sander’s friend, because he could be Robbe’s too. It was way simpler than his brain was trying to make him think.

“Robin,” Sander said, in that way that suggested it wasn’t the first time. He was smiling at Robbe, holding out a hand, and Robbe reached for it without a thought. Sander gave him a gentle tug. “Coming?”

Robbe fell into step alongside Sander and allowed himself to enjoy the light sweep of Sander’s thumb over his knuckles before pulling his hand away. Lucas hesitantly followed along by his other side, pulling too-short sleeves down over his wrists and watching his feet. He flickered a glance at Robbe, and his shoulders loosened when Robbe smiled instead of looking away.

“You’re his best friend, right?” Lucas asked after a second. “Prince Jens, I mean. You’ve lived here a long time but you just genuinely like him, don’t you?”

Robbe blinked, surprised by the question. He probably shouldn’t have been. Everyone knew him; he realised that. Everyone certainly knew Jens, and they knew who Robbe was to him. Robbe occasionally forgot that this didn’t mean they were known, and it definitely did not mean they were automatically liked.

Lucas had every right and reason to be skeptical. Robbe should have expected it and been prepared for it, but even Sander had never questioned them much.

But this question was easy.

“I love Jens,” he agreed. “He might as well be my brother. But it isn’t just that we grew up together or I feel I owe him anything. Jens is one of the best people I know. He always has been. There’s plenty to like about him.”

“Well, now, let’s not get carried away,” Sander interrupted. “Others here are just as likable, if not more so.”

Lucas raised his brows as Robbe rolled his eyes. Neither could hold back a smile. “You, for example?” Robbe said, already dripping sarcasm.

Sander placed a hand to his chest while tugging the library door open. “Why thank you, Robbe, that’s so sweet of you to say. But I was talking about you.”

Robbe’s prepared retort died on his tongue, and he felt hot as Sander grinned down at him. He resisted the urge to raise his hands to cover his cheeks.

Lucas simply hummed his agreement. “You are the nicest. Even without knowing you—the kingdom adores you. I can understand it.”

“Understand what?” Moyo questioned from inside. He wiggled his fingers in a wave when they all turned startled gazes on him. “Have we just swapped one pretty boy for another?”

Aaron slumped back next to him with a groan. “Don’t tell me Jens is actually bailing again.”

“It didn’t seem like he had a choice,” Lucas said, in Jens’s defense. He pulled a face once he realised this.

Robbe considered him. He hadn’t known how to respond to Lucas’s compliment, and he was glad they had been interrupted so that he didn’t have to. But there was something about the way Lucas had said it and how he had asked about Jens in the first place that made Robbe turn back. “Why can’t you understand why people like Jens?”

Lucas blinked over at him in surprise. Robbe just smiled sheepishly at him, and Lucas shrugged, uncomfortable.

“Do people like Jens should be the first question,” Sander said. Robbe punched his shoulder.

“They do, I suppose,” Lucas admitted. “My friends didn’t have the highest opinion, or I guess just didn’t really care, but then…I guess they like him alright.”

“You don’t,” Robbe said.

“I didn’t say that.”

Moyo nodded as if Lucas had said something very smart. “Good. Probably shouldn’t give them any more reasons to accuse you of treason.”

Lucas pulled another face.

Sander tugged them both to sit down. “Okay, continue while eating, please. I need to move afterwards.”

“Move?” Moyo and Robbe asked.

Sander looked to Robbe. “Jens and I told you, didn’t we? I’m moving rooms closer to his because of this whole business?” He gestured at Lucas.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas said. “You shouldn’t have to do that.”

“It’s no big deal,” Sander shrugged.

Robbe watched him, not feeling quite as sure.

Sander denied Lucas’s offer of help, urging him to take time to finish his lunch (unnecessarily—Lucas had devoured his food) and then to enjoy the short time he would have free of both Jens and Sander. Robbe stood up to follow, however, and Sander didn’t argue with him.

Now they had half of Sander’s things moved in a single trip between rooms, and Robbe was pondering the best way to ask Sander if he also thought this was a terrible idea.

He settled on asking, “Are you sure you’re okay with all of this?”

Sander dumped some of his clothes in the wardrobe and shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be? This room’s better than mine. I think they’ve even got a comfier mattress. Why is that kind of special treatment wasted on guests?”

Robbe smiled slightly, but tried not to fall off track. “I’m not just talking about the room.”

Sander turned to face him slowly, moving shirts from one hand to the other. “What then?”

“All this is a bit…I don’t know. It was kind of a rash decision, right? It’s a lot of…responsibility.”

Sander snorted. “Are you saying I’m not responsible enough, Robin?”

He couldn’t believe Sander was making him spell it out when he knew exactly what Robbe was talking about. “You’re not healthy enough, and you know it,” he breathed.

Sander’s face went blank as his hands froze. He stared at Robbe, who refused to look away. Sander broke the gaze first, turning back to his wardrobe and fiddling with a hanger. He said nothing.

“Sander,” Robbe whispered, imploring. “You can’t take this on. Never mind the pressure, but you can’t be expected to be available all the time. And now switching rooms? It’s too much.”

“It’s very little for them to ask of me, Robbe,” Sander argued, abandoning his task to turn and face him. “I’m a knight. This is nothing.”

Robbe shook his head. He had known Sander would fight him on this, but it still always hurt when the older man refused to listen. “You know it’s not. Sander, you—“

“It’s been months,” Sander cut him off.

His voice was quiet and strong at once. He looked so small just then, even though he was obviously determined. He’d straightened his shoulders and was holding Robbe’s eye, and still, something lurked underneath. There was a silent desperation, a wildness that Sander had always seemed to contain, confined tightly in his chest but always threatening to explode. It was there in his eyes, a plead mingled with the insecurity he truly felt.

It wasn’t just that he wanted Robbe to believe him. He wanted Robbe to convince him. To reassure him that he was, in fact, right, and more than capable of holding the weight he’d placed on himself.

But Robbe cared about him too much to do that.

“I know,” he said softly. “But it has been months before.”

Sander instantly shook his head, insisting, “Never this long. It’s different.”

Robbe closed his eyes. It wasn’t, and it wouldn’t be, regardless of how much Sander tried to will it into existence. Robbe knew it; he’d already seen it. He couldn’t let Sander believe it and be reckless with himself as a result.

But what more could he say?

I’ve seen it firsthand. What happens when you can’t get out of bed for a day, then two, then a week? There’s no way of hiding it, now—what would be your excuse?

What made you think you could do it, in the first place?

“Mama…” Robbe started, trying not to be hurt by how Sander rolled his eyes and turned away. “She’s been well this long before and it didn’t last either, Sander. It’s not—we don’t even know what—“

“I know,” Sander cut him off, moving towards him abruptly. His hands fluttered by his sides as he stopped in front of Robbe. “I wasn’t thinking of that, I didn’t realise…I didn’t think of how it would be necessary to be around all the time. But I can’t take it back now, Robbe.”

Robbe shook his head. “Of course you can. Now is the perfect time to take it back, before it gets too far.”

“No one else will treat Lucas right.”

“You can’t know that.”

“They’ve already shown it! He’s unhappy enough here, and Jens is a disaster, and I committed to them both.”

Robbe swallowed, shaking his head more. Trying to think. “What about Senne?”

“He has enough duties. Besides, it’s his brother involved in all of this.”

“They don’t even get along. I’m not even sure they speak.”

Sander sighed. “They do, but that’s not the point. Just—“ he curled his hand around Robbe’s wrist. He was no longer looking him in the eye. “—don’t doubt me. I won’t be able to do it if you don’t think I can.”

Robbe’s heart dropped into his stomach. Then he dropped his head against Sander’s shoulder and sighed back. He slipped his hands around to Sander’s back and curled them in his tunic. “Sorry. You know I think you can do anything. I just…”

“I know.” Sander hugged him back, tipping his cheek against Robbe’s head. “You’re probably right, though.”

“No, Sander—“

“I hate it, but I know you’re right. I know I’m not—that it won’t just—“ Sander broke off on a sound of frustration. Robbe squeezed his waist. Sander squeezed back. “But maybe it won’t happen. That I’m needed and I can’t…I don’t think it will be this important for that long. They’re not even making me keep an eye on Lucas every second now, and it’ll ease up from here.”

“But if it does happen?”

“I’d hoped I’ll have you,” Sander admitted quietly. “And I—I could probably talk to Jens, if I have to.”

Robbe tried not to sound too eager. “He would understand. They could help.”

Sander pressed his face harder against Robbe’s head. “There isn’t any helping this, Robbe.”

“You don’t know that. My mother, she used to be worse. I mean, she still gets bad, but it used to be constant, Sander. And more extreme. But she has help now.”

Sander didn’t say anything, but his head still lay heavy. Robbe hugged him tighter. Sander clenched his hands around Robbe’s shoulders. “Just promise me I’ll have you,” he eventually whispered.

Robbe ignored the swoop of his stomach, and the burn of his nerves where Sander’s thumb brushed bare skin, and whispered back, “Always.”

#van der stoffels #vds #sobbe #wtfock #skam nl #prince!jens au #vds royalty au

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Lucas’s breaths were ragged even as Jens grasped him by the back of his neck and pressed their foreheads together. “You can’t keep saving me,” he choked.

Jens thought about Lucas on his knees the first time he’d seen him, stubborn and loyal and good even with his sharp tongue and his snark. He thought about Lucas’s honest eyes lighting up when Jens took him home and his mother was waiting. He thought about Lucas’s brilliant smile, taunting and teasing and trusting, gentling with every day that Jens knew him and made every attempt to draw it out. He thought about Lucas’s capable hands, flipping him off and shoving him around, carding through his hair and cupping his cheek, mapping out his skin and holding onto him. He thought about Lucas’s ability to match every one of Sander’s sarcastic remarks with a fond barb of his own and how he managed to understand Robbe better than any of them. He thought about the fear that had rushed through him at the thought of Lucas dying that very first day, and how much it felt multiplied now at the thought of losing him. He thought about the way Lucas looked at him and told him he loved him without a hint of doubt.

Then he gave Lucas’s neck a squeeze and said, “Watch me.”

#van der stoffels #vds #prince!jens au #vds royalty au

[peaceoutofthepieces]

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH 🏳️‍🌈🌈🌈

could we have a little prince au snippet for pride??!?!

oh HIII happy pride to you too!!! we can always have a little prince au snippet and because you asked and I am flattered, you can have TWO!! one fairly pride-relevant I think, and one for some of the usual round of royal ol’ fun.

the first:

He knew that it wasn’t unheard of, that gentry and commoners alike all fell to such scandalous affairs, that even some of his knights had partaken in such intimacies. He also knew that in some bordering lands anyone acting upon such desires would be slaughtered on the spot. That wasn’t the case here, either because the matter was too trivial or because it was something hidden. They knew as long as they were not seen they would not be punished. Jens only knew it was something that really happened through whispers, and even they were filled with doubt, as if the stories could not be rooted in reality but fever dreams.

It might not have been wrong, but it was not right.

It certainly wasn’t normal.

and one more:

“Actually, that works out fine. He can train with us.”

Lucas gaped at him. “Your mother wants to kill me because she thinks I stole a sword, and now you want to teach me how to use one?”

Jens flushed, even while pausing to think about it. “Well, honestly, I probably would, but I meant for hand-to-hand combat. It might stop the guards from thinking they can manhandle you if you know how to break their wrists.”

This got Lucas’s attention.

Meanwhile, Sander clutched at his chest and tipped his head back with a dramatically pleased sigh. “Gosh, I enjoy it when you lose all that princely propriety.”

He spoke with an odd amount of genuity for words that were obviously sarcastic. Jens was hardly proper. Lucas’s lips twitched in amusement, as if he was thinking the same thing.

#i’ve gotten a bit sidetracked from it but it’s still coming soon! #love and miss you all #van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #prince!jens au #vds royalty au