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The day was slow. Time seemed to tick by at half speed, though Rouxls knew this very much wasn’t the case, it did not quiet his boredom. A morning spent in his office toiling over ideas for puzzles, and nothing much to show for it but a bin of trashed ideas for block pushers. As the clock ticked to noon he stood, stopping in front of a mirror to fix his attire, and left to the court. Though he was the Duke of Puzzles, he was still given a list of non-puzzle related tasks to complete. Speaking to the members of the court, the sentries, the guards, giving them their daily tasks. Today was terribly common. Everything about it seemed as if he was re-living the day previous. Even the shouting from the throne room had become, unfortunately, quite common. Nor did it surprise the duke that it appeared the king was, again, shouting at his son. The nasty words exchanged from king to prince had become all too familiar. Rouxls tried to ignore the sounds, tried to ignore words that were clear like “worthless”, “disappointment”, and “disgraceful”, but he would be lying if he were to say the words didn’t fill him with emotion. The Rudinn guard he was instructing could see it in his eyes, the twinge of pain each time the king was audible, the hint of tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, and his hands balled up into fists at his sides. Rouxls ordered the Rudinn off, and turned away from everyone else so he might have a moment to try to clear his mind. He cleared his throat, and turned to the next Rudinn. Halfway through his sentence, he could hear a door opening, then slammin, then opening and slamming again. He could hear the prince’s footsteps tapping along the halls of the castle, and the much louder stompings of the king’s feet behind him. This too, sadly, had become all too common. But what could he do about it? He was terrified of the power given to King Spade, too scared to say anything out of the fear he would be thrown carelessly into prison leaving no one to look after the king’s son. Dare he say he had become all too fond of the boy, the way he laughed, the excitement on his face, and the darling way he was so different from his father.
Rouxls couldn’t do anything that may jeopardize his relationship with Lancer. If Rouxls was gone, well, anything could happen, and just the thought of anything happening to that dear boy filled Rouxls with a tornado of emotions too complex to write on paper. Fear he would be hurt, sadness of him being hurt, complete rage at whomever had laid their hands on him or who had been foolish enough to allow him to be hurt.
However, the duke cast all these feelings and thoughts to the back of his mind, and turned his attention back to the rudinn standing before him. He was only a few words in when he felt a thud on his legs, and looked down to see Lancer holding him tightly. “Lancer! Thou know’st that I-” The flood of emotions came rushing back to the forefront of his mind as he felt something other than tears wetting the back of his pant leg. Instinctively he turned the prince away from the doorframe as the king stepped into view, his hands caressing the child’s head. King Spade let out a deep, gruff sound and turned dramatically away from the bowing troops as Rouxls lifted the prince into his arms. Without a word to any rudinn or hathy, he carried the small boy to his bedroom. Caressing him and holding the child as if he were a toddler, shsushing his cries and attempting to silence his worries.
Once inside Lancer’s room, Rouxls lay him on the bed carefully, as if the boy would shatter if he were too rough. Shaking hands slid under his hood and pulled it down to inspect his face. At that very moment, it felt like Rouxls’s soul had broken. Blood smeared the prince’s face, stemming from a cut on his cheek just under his eye. Emotions quelling in his chest he pulled the prince close to his own chest in a tight embrace, tears rolling down his own dark coloured skin as he held the prince. Lancer hugged back as if holding onto Rouxls for dear life. The duke was shaking as anger filled his being, and if it wouldn’t tear him away from Lancer he would be beating the king at this very moment. He was pulled back into reality as he felt Lancer shift in his arms. The prince had a hand over the cut on his face and Rouxls took a deep breath as h tried to calm his shaking hands. “Be still, mine prince, I shall return posthaste.” Rouxls gave the prince a pat on the head, leaving quickly and returning with a first aid kit, and a snack for the boy. When he returned, he nearly dropped what he was holding as he saw Lancer cowering in the corner of his room. Setting the kit and bags of candy on his bedside table as quick as he could, Rouxls was at his side nearly the second he was in the room. “Arst thou wounded? Let me see, prince, come, come back up.” He was trying to usher Lancer back onto his feet but the boy kept hitting his hands away. Each time Rouxls reached for the prince his hands would be hit, smacked, or pushed, until the point Rouxls had to grab him from behind with tears rolling down his face so he could carry the squirming boy back onto his bed.
“Lancer!” He finally snapped. “Why dost thou protest! I only wish to care for thee.” Lancer turned away from him. “Lancer, please, speaketh upon to me.” Silence from the prince. Rouxls fell onto his knees, and Lancer pulled his hood back on. Rouxls reached out to him, and Lancer kicked his trembling hands. He reached again, and Lancer kicked weaker this time. He reached a third time, and was greeted by another weak response fro the prince. He reached a fourth, and was met only by a small movement of the foot. He rested one hand on Lancer’s leg, and his other hand wrapped around his torso. “My prince.” He spoke in a soft, but shaking voice. “Tell me, why dost thou protest?” He turned Lancer back towards him. “Why doth thou fight me?” He pulled Lancer slowly from the bed to his lap. “Please, mine prince, alloweth me to heal thy wounds.” He removed Lancer’s hood again, and smiled at the boy that he cradled in his arms. He reached into the first aid kit, pulling out a bandage. He removed it from the packaging, and laid it across the prince’s face. The bandage had the characters from a popular kids show printed on it, in fact, it was Lancer’s favourite show. Lancer wiped his eyes, and gave a small smile as Rouxls rubbed his head. “There we are, that beist the prince I knowe.” Lancer’s smile faded and he turned his head away again, his blue tongue just barely poking out from his mouth.
“Hey le- hey Rouxls?”
That caught the duke off guard. It had been months since Lancer used his name instead of just calling him “lesser dad”.
“Yes, my prince?”
“Why do you, do this? All the stuff that dads are supposed to do?”
Rouxls thought for a moment. At first, he simply put up with the prince’s presence, but recently he had grown so fond of him. “I supposeth,” he started before trailing off and not finishing his sentence.
“Well?” Lancer pushed on.
“Well, mine own upbringing was, unfavourable. And, I don’t wish to see thee experience what I had. But, there’s only so much I can achieve.” He said, his mismatched eyes flicking to the bandage before looking back into Lancer’s. “The shorte answer, I suppose, I careth for thou.”
Lancer stood, eye level with Rouxls who was on his knees, and hugged him tightly. “Why doesn’t my father like it?”
Rouxls returned the gesture, hugging Lancer close to his chest. He knew the answer. Spade didn’t want anyone trying to influence his son. Spade wanted his son to be a machine, to not have feelings for or attachments to anyone, but a child wouldn’t understand that.
“I do not knowe, my prince.”
Lancer’s grip tightened, and though he tried to sound calm his voice shook. “Why can’t father be like you?”
Rouxls felt his throat tightening, his hands holding Lancer tighter, his words became lost in the tears staining his dark blue cheeks. Why couldn’t Spade be a regular parent? Why couldn’t he properly love his son, and give him the affection he so rightly deserved? Holding himself back from tears, he held Lancer and stood up, holding him briefly before setting him back on the bed.
“Lancer, why did you fight me?”
Lancer looked away from him, fiddling with his fingers. “Father said, said I shouldn’t be so, so soft around you.”
Rouxls frowned and then smiled as he sat next to Lancer on the bed. “Well, that would be rather difficult.” He set one hand on Lancer’s shoulder as the prince looked up at him, confusion written clear across his face. “Thy fur be as softe as plush!” He teased the prince by poking his belly, and Lancer laughed a little, and Rouxls tickled him more making the prince laugh harder, now protesting only to get his lesser dad to stop tickling him. Lancer teased back by summoning two spades to lightly squish Rouxls’s face, and the two laughed together, and calmed down. Lancer hugged Rouxls again, and this time it was much warmer.
“Ah, I have a surprise for thee, prince.”
Lancer looked up with intrigue. “What’d you get me?”
Rouxls held up a back of gummy candies. “Thine favourite worms!”
Lancer was nearly vibrating with excitement as he took the gummy worms from Rouxls, stuffing a handful into his mouth. Rouxls smiled fondly at the boy.
“Do not eat with too much haste, mine prince, or thy stomach shall ache.” He looked over at the clock. Nearly an hour had passed. “Ah, I must returneth to mine duties. Get thy rest, and fuss not with thine face.” Lancer shot out of bed to hug Rouxls one last time, and Rouxls hugged him back.
“Tonight, will you still read to me and tuck me in?”
A smile came across the duke’s face. “Why of course, my prince. It wouldeth be mine honor.”
“Thank you, dad.”