Chapter Text
Once Upon a Time
Once upon a time there was a normally kind and gentle Prince. Attractive even as a child, handsome beyond measure and the only surviving offspring of the wise King Eric, the Prince was set to have a glorious future. He was beloved by the whole palace despite his occasional rudeness and uncouth manners, so contradictory to his normal behaviour. Many whispered this stemmed from his lack of a mother, the Queen having died in childbirth.
He grew up to be a reserved young man, sticking close to his father and preferring to use his free time reading about the land he was destined to rule over than actually seeing the land himself. As with everyone in the Kingdom, he rejoiced when the King declared his intention to marry again, welcoming the woman who was to be his step mother into the castle.
Alas, the happiness that was created with the marriage was not to last and within six months, King Eric was in his grave, long before his time. The whole of the kingdom was thrown into mourning and none more so than the fatherless Prince Virgil and his dearly beloved Queen. There could be little time for the luxury of grief however, not with the kingdom lacking a ruler. And so, with the tragic early death of his father, he began to prepare for his own reign with increasing determination. He was still too young to become King in his own right, and the Queen took on the burden till such time as he was deemed old and wise enough to rule, making sure that his wishes were heard throughout. He was perhaps, not the wisest of Princes, with some saying that he would need more aid even upon attaining his majority. A few even whispered that the sudden death of his father had unhinged him in some way although those that were caught spreading such evil rumours were instantly confined to the dungeons.
On the eve of his sixteenth birthday, the day before he was due to assume personal rule of the land, disaster struck.
A large black dragon descended like a fury upon the kingdom, raining fire and terror upon the castle and the surrounding houses. The roof of the great hall was ripped off by pale shining claws that glinted in the flickering candlelight. Fire licked the many thatched buildings, roof after roof going up in flame. The roars of the beast were terrifying to hear, as though the beast had been driven mad by some unknown cause. When the dust settled, the dragon had vanished as quickly as it had first appeared, leaving a partially ruined town to struggle to come to terms with the unprovoked attack.
The Prince had vanished too. Swept up in claws and teeth, dragged away by the fiend to be imprisoned in some tower somewhere, a living trophy for the disgusting beast.
They could not offer the hand of the Prince as a reward for rescuing him, as he was already promised to another, the son of his father's second wife. The two had first met at the funeral of the late King, and by all accounts, a fairytale romance had blossomed between them, a love at first sight that seemed all the more painful when the cruel fate of Prince Virgil was discussed.
They could however, offer a Prince’s ransom in gold, and the promise of becoming the Right Hand to the throne of the brave knight that rescued him.
Whatever it took, to bring the Prince home, to the arms of his betrothed. Without the Prince, there could be no King and although the Queen Mother reluctantly and dutifully shouldered the burden of continuing as regent until his return, there was no question of her son ascending the throne alone. Patton, for all that he was the son of a Queen and husband to be of the Prince, was only of noble blood, not the blood royal.
The whole Kingdom yearned for its Prince to be restored to them, for the quiet Prince Virgil to be freed from the evil claws of the dragon, wherever it had taken him.
Many loyal knights set off in search of the noble and handsome Prince, scouring the countryside far and wide. Few returned and those that did eventually stagger back to the castle always came back empty handed, their whole quest wiped from their memory with no evidence they had even located the dragon, let alone done battle with it.
Despite every setback however, they refused to give up hope that he would be found. Everyone knew that evil could not hope to win forever and that there would come a day when the prince would be freed from his imprisonment, wherever he might be held, and return home. When he would wed the love of his life, take the throne and with the Queen as his principal adviser, and live happily ever after.
At least, that, is how the Queen Mother recorded the tale, ordering that it be posted to the furthest reaches of the kingdom, in the hope that someone, somewhere, would hear the tale and be able to offer some insight into the location of the lost prince.
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If you could actually track down Prince Virgil and his ‘kidnapper' they would recount a very different version of events.
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Once upon a time, there lived a painfully shy and anxious Prince, who wanted nothing more than to be a good ruler - albeit preferably without having to actually talk to anyone, make any public speeches or do anything else that required having to actually interact with other people, too much pressure no. He was happiest in his study, watching the world go by and learning everything and anything he could.
He tried to live up to his father’s wishes as best he could, but day by day he was painfully aware of how much he failed in that regard. Of how far he still had to travel if he could hope to ever match his father. He needed to become braver, bolder, wiser. There was so much left he had to learn and the sheer list sometimes overwhelmed him. Not even the actual topics themselves, just the amount. No matter how many times his father told him it didn’t matter, and that he still had many years in which to grow into the man he knew he would become, Virgil couldn’t help but feel as if he was on a much shorter time limit, that he needed to improve and fast. Instead, he remained the same anxiety ridden boy who was not yet ready to rule.
And then his father died and he was proven right. His father’s untimely death when Virgil was only twelve after a mere six months of marriage to his second wife was the start of years of misery for him. It happened so gradually that he wasn't aware of what was even going on until it was far too late.
Things changed when the Queen took control of the castle, the odd shift in staff the first hint that things were not as they had been. Many of the old staff, men and women he had known for years, were fired, replaced by those of the Queen’s choosing. An old woman was welcomed into the Castle, and given the role of personal cook to the Queen - although Virgil never saw her actually make anything, he would quite often smell things from her room, foul scented concoctions that made him glad she wasn’t his cook.
Any time he expressed an interest in a place, subject or a person, something would happen to remove the chance to spend time with them or go there. Gradually, over time, Virgil learnt to stop asking, to stop looking out for experiences beyond the walls of the castle, for conversations beyond the approved limits of the Queen Mother.
He became almost completely isolated from the outer world, barely setting foot out of the castle for years. While Virgil would have previously considered that the best thing that could have happened to him, he knew that it wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing. As much as he hated the role that he had been born into, he was too dedicated to simply abandon it. How could he hope to one day rule on his own merit when he knew so little about ruling, about government or his people? His tutors were replaced by nominees of the Queen Mother’s choosing, men who seemed to care little for the task of changing a nervous teenager into a man fit to rule and more focused on ingratiating themselves in with the Queen Mother, by attempting to convince Virgil that he should listen to her in all things, that she was only looking out for him and the kingdom as a whole.
His history tutor stopped teaching him about his own family history, about the men and women he was directly descended from and how they had helped shape policy directly. Instead it had been more about the people the rulers were surrounded by, or tales of the various regencies that had taken place, of mothers protecting children. His tutor of politics simply vanished, teaching one day and gone the next with the simple explanation that he would have no need of such a thing for many years to come and they didn’t want to tax him too much. It was for his own good, the Queen Mother cooed softly. After all, with her by his side and Patton on his arm, he wouldn’t need to learn everything at once, they could let his anxiety calm down first, could introduce him back to the topic bit by bit. And if he was never ready to learn properly, then it didn’t matter. His own sanity came first and Virgil hated how she twisted everything around, made it sound as though she was doing him a favour by removing people, topics, by making him dumber through inaction.
The less said about his new tutor of courtesy and courtly manners, the better. The woman seemed to have no thoughts in her mind beyond ‘always lead with the left foot’ or ‘a gentleman must always open a door for a lady.’ It was impossible to hold a conversation with her and in all honesty Virgil was a little afraid that she might be too good at her job and teach him too much. The idea that such things might be all he would care about, all he would be allowed to care about, with nothing to look forward to but more of the same… it was enough to create nightmares that would leave him shaking for hours.
The Queen Mother always waved away his concerns whenever he tried to express them, always promising that when he came of age an account would be made of all the decrees and decisions that had been made while he was a minor. He would have full power to do as he wished once he reached his majority. And should he still desire guidance, as it was only proper and right that he did, then she would always be on hand to aid him.
The way she promised she would be there to guide him made it sound more like a threat than anything else, something shivering in his soul, a warning that this would not be a choice she would give him.
His father would not have approved. Virgil knew that, knew that this was wrong somehow but he didn’t know how to change what was happening. The Queen Mother had eyes and spies everywhere in the castle. She knew of any potential rebellion before it could even become a fully fledged idea in anyone’s head. Virgil was told over and over again that it was his duty to listen to her, that he should listen to her in everything.
So much so, that as the years dragged on, he was starting to believe it.
If it hadn’t been for the one secret he had been able to keep, he probably would have eventually accepted the world as the Queen Mother was crafting around him, would have allowed her to become the power behind the throne as he one day realized she wanted.
During those long years, his only friend was the palace librarian’s assistant, a young man of similar age to the Prince, by the name of Logan, considered too insignificant for even the Queen to bother firing. Virgil had learnt by now that anyone he showed any marks of favour to would be removed from his life and so when he first met the quiet librarian he resolved to be quiet in turn and to somehow make - and keep - a friend.
Logan promised a route to a world he had not seen for so long. And access to so many books, to thoughts and conversations free of the malign influence. It helped that Logan seemed as social awkward as he was, that he didn’t understand the attempts at first for what they were, didn’t realise it was anything more than Virgil attempting to simply learn more, Logan prefering to keep to himself when not on duty.
Not even one as self contained as Logan however, was able to say no the Crown Prince. At first it had been a relationship of convenience, Logan simply letting Virgil talk to him as he wanted. Gradually, he had come to realise that despite the rumors slowly being passed around the castle as to the Princes mental incapacity, he was hardly the halfwit the stories painted him as. Instead, he came across as a serious, intelligent young man who wanted to talk about astronomy and the natural world, to name but two of the subjects they would endlessly debate.
Somehow, Virgil kept their friendship a secret. Logan was not the sort to seek out personal connections of any sort, and had in fact scorned attempts by others in the past who had tried to become his friend. It didn’t seem possible that the anxious Prince would succeed where charming, confident people had failed and so not as much notice was paid to their relationship as others had been in the past.
It was something of a surprise to everyone, Virgil included, when his betrothal to Patton was announced.
He liked Patton well enough, he supposed. In fact, he greatly suspected he would adore Patton given the chance - as a friend. Just as he suspected that the other teenager would feel the same way about him, if any feelings were allowed to develop. They never got to spend any real time together, were never left on their own and so their relationship stuttered along rather than grew into anything. Virgil saw enough of Patton to realise he was the complete opposite of his mother, that where the Queen was haughty and grasping for power, her son was kindness personified and more likely to be found in the kitchens trying to make friends with the cook over trying to one up the endless crowds of ambitions courtiers.
It didn’t help that he knew Logan harboured feelings for Patton and, so he suspected, Patton returned those feelings. It was hard not to suspect considering he had come across Patton doodling hearts on paper once or twice that most definitely did not have his initials inside. He didn’t mind. Logan was the closest person he had to family and Patton could have one day become the same if it wasn’t for his mother and so he wanted nothing but happiness for them both.
He constantly urged Logan to admit his feelings to Patton, trying to convince him that Patton felt the same and that it wasn’t forward for the librarian assistant to ask a Lord like Patton if he could possibly court him. Virgil couldn’t help but dream of the possibilities that could occur if the two of them got together.
Maybe if Patton and he came to the Queen Mother together, publicly, and both asked to be excused from their arranged marriage, she would have no choice but to agree. And if Virgil didn’t marry her son, maybe he would be able to shake free of her influence after he was crowned. He would keep Logan by his side as his science advisor, Patton would be given any job he wanted and maybe he could learn to be the kind of king he wanted to be with their help.
Virgil had taken to avoiding the library whenever Patton was visiting, so as not to bump into them or worse, drag any of the invisible eyes that still followed him into their - hopefully - budding romance.
He should have known that it was too good to last and that the Queen Mother would not let something as trivial as her son’s happiness get in the way of her ambition.
One morning, a few months before his birthday, he was summoned by his step mother, the Queen archly explaining that both the Librarian and his assistant had been caught plotting treason, trying to kidnap her son and flee with him as their hostage. Out of mercy, she had refrained from the death penalty but both had been exiled and transported to the furthest corners of the Kingdom. Virgil had been too stunned to do anything, mind going blank as he stood there, simply nodding once or twice before fleeing for the relative safety of his own chambers.
It wasn’t hard to work out what had really happened.
Patton had not been as subtle as Virgil. Patton, despite having the woman as his actual mother, still didn’t seem to understand the true depths of her character or how far she would go. Patton, locked himself in his room for days on end sobbing his heart out and Virgil didn’t know how to fix it. He didn’t have any allies left in the Castle, nobody he could trust, nobody he could turn to in order to make things better. How was he ever going to find Logan?
A week later, he discovered the dragon in the dungeons.