The Sad Prince

He laughed, shaking his head. “Oh great, probably rambling on about the Yeti. I most certainly am not going to sit through that again,” he joked. “And neither are you, so grab that brush,” he instructed, now ‘protecting’ Eamon from the torture that is his sister, and now Gabe’s betrothed, endless talk of cryptids. After a few moments of painting, he grinned, looking to the other. “You have my word I will deal with her… Even if it is only so I don’t get her sent after me by you. I can only assume you would rile her up to be very angry first toward me,” he replied with a laugh.

“You know...” Eamon started, locating and picking up the brush regardless. “I’m pretty used to her rambling, I’ve literally grown up with it. So you’d suffer more any day.” Dipping the brush into the tin he slapped it against the wall, painting a streak down it. His parents had given him a semester of art tutoring when he was younger, but otherwise he had never actually held a paintbrush. Looking over at Gabriel he gave a knowing look. “Of course I would. Why would I send her to you completely placid?”

She looked up at Eamon, and smiled weakly. “Thank you. It’s been…” She trailed off and heaved a sigh. Her birthday coinciding with the rumors of the potential conflict brewing between the Netherlands and Russia had made for a rather somber day.

“It’s been as good as can be expected,” she decided with a shrug. “How are you holding up? The last few weeks have been a lot.”

The sigh basically told Eamon everything he needed to know. He would probably have the same opinion if his and Niamh’s birthday had fallen right in the middle of a potential war announcement.

“I mean, that’s better than it being worse than you thought, right?” Positive thinking came a little easier for him these days. “I’m fine I guess. Once I knew everyone was safe.” His eyes strayed to the menu and he gave a small smile. “Of course, in honour of your day. What delicacies do you suggest?”

Thomas tried to contain his laughter, but seeing Eamon try to replace the light fixture broke his resolve entirely. “Oh no, it looks good as new, they’ll never know.” He looked from his friend back to the light fixture hanging out of the wall. “They didn’t expect a bunch of dignified young royals to be trying to yank stuff out of the wall, I guess- weird, they really should’ve anticipated this.” 

“Right...of course...” Eamon murmured, staring at the device. He was probably lucky the power was out, and the absurd idea that someone wouldn’t notice it seemed to become more and more alien. The whole situation did. “Surely it should’ve been their top priority? How many light fixtures have fallen victim to our hands? They definitely didn’t account for anyone drunk and tall.”

❝ Of course not ❞  She move away from him, giving some space so he could go find his sister, and she stayed where she was observing the people around her.

“Thank you,” Eamon said graciously, giving her a grateful smile. She had mentioned brothers and so before he parted ways he wanted her to know he appreciated it. With a nod he moved off, looking for a familiar head of blonde.

    Charlotte prays every day for her siblings to be fine. The blonde offered a sympathetic smile when he assured her he’d do the same thing as her. Speaking of the present, there wasn’t absolutely nothing to be done. ❝ Now, we wait. And carry on with our life. In this moment, I just want summer. ❞

Eamon pulled a face at the suggestion that they just carried on. It seemed strange given the scale of the disaster, but he supposed she was right, there was nothing else to do. “You know, normally I’m more of an autumn guy, but summer might be nice,” he murmured, giving her a wan smile. “Thank you. Do you mind if I go find my sister?”

Tears silently streamed down her face. Though she so desperately wanted her own copy back, the sentiment was sweet. And if she couldn’t have Alwyn’s copy then Eamon’s idea was something she was seriously going to consider, “You’re sweet. You know that?” She pulled away and wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks, “I’m holding out a tiny bit of hope that it’s still out there buried, but still in good condition.” She glanced back towards the barricaded part of the castle, “If…if I don’t get it back, will you go to the bookstore with me?” She let her eyes fall back on her friend.

“Uh, thank you?” Eamon voiced without much confidence behind it as she pulled back. He didn’t think it was a compliment he had heard before, at least not often. Besides, he never really knew how to accept them anyway. As she continued to talk his brow furrowed, but he nodded determinedly with the question. “Of course I will,” he answered, pausing briefly. “Did you...want to go try and look for it? In there I mean.”

Upon hearing the knock, Nell rose from her chair and made her way over to let Eamon in. She paused, hand on the door handle, and put on a smile. “Eamon,” she greeted, “punctual as always, come in.” Stepping to the side, she pulled the door open wider and gestured into the room. 

“So,” she began as she sunk back into her chair, “how have you been since our last appointment?” Nell always preferred to have physical copies of her patient’s files, digital felt oddly impersonal to her, likely a mindset picked up from her older mentor during her uni days. She held his file in her hands and glanced up from it, giving Eamon an encouraging smile. “Would you like a drink? Water? Tea?”

“You can thank my mother for that. She used to chastise the nannies if we were ever late. Something about being unbecoming,” Eamon replied, a soft smile on his face as he thought about all times he and his siblings had to be chased around to get anywhere punctually.

Like clockwork he stepped into the room and made his way to the chair meant for him. It was a well practiced action but in this one he tended to actually feel himself sink into it a little. As far as therapists went Nell was one of his favourites. “I’ve been okay. Though I do wonder...should I have been upset that my room was destroyed in the avalanche?” He asked, pausing. “And tea please.”

He was looking at the baseboards, tentatively poking at them, but a noise drew his attention and he looked up to see Eamon, holding a light fixture in his hand. Despite the dire situation, Thomas couldn’t help but laugh in shock as his friend ripped the sconce clear off the wall. “Eamon!” he exclaimed, chidingly. “You’re lucky there was an avalanche, otherwise they’d know for sure it was you wrecking the place.”

Eamon couldn’t help but stand there staring at the fixture in his hand, clinging to the wall by only the electrical wires that connected it. Thomas’ laugh caught him off guard and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to unsuccessfully shove it back into place. “They won’t really notice, right?” He asked as it fell out to dangle by the wires. Suddenly he couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up through his own lips, hard enough that he had to lean against the wall for support. “Fuck, they can manage massive metal panic doors but not a decent light?”

The soil beneath her knees had sunk into the fabric of her pants almost immediately, but that didn’t stop Ondine for anything. She was perched in the center of the patch of flowers, a small clearing created after just a few visits to care for them. In her lap was a small notebook, opened up to a page that was nearly full with doodles. Without a clue as to when she started taking notes about the plants and flowers she worked with, Ondine found that it was best to uphold tradition now, the task becoming a hobby more than anything, and a beneficial one at that.

She’d been so caught up in what she was doing, however, that when a figure appeared over her and cast a shadow across the page of her notebook, she fell backwards in a fright. “Sh—” she hissed, palm flat against the soil as she looked up at the figure that had joined her. “Sorry, sorry,” Ondine began, taking in a steady breath. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

Eamon was glad that better weather seemed to have finally made its way to Khatanga, especially after the recent disaster. While snow still clung to the mountains around them it was at least finally starting to melt around the castle and village and he could step outside with one less layer on (that usually being the overly thick snow coat). He had to admit, although there was a certain buzz that came with the intense cold looking to freeze off any bit of skin left uncovered, it was also pleasant to have fresh warmer air. Plus, these days the grounds were filled with the scent of flowers finally blooming.

He wasn’t exactly traipsing around the greenery silently, so he hadn’t been expecting the figure to take fright when he passed close by. The sudden reaction had him jolting with a gasp as well and he blinked down at her several times before finding his words. “Oh no, no I’m sorry. I didn’t realise...are you okay?”

Closing the door behind him, Rasa merely waved a hand in the air. “If you were, we’d just argue about it. Or I would try to blackmail you with sex,” her shoulders moved nonchalantly up and down as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Eamon’s display made her laugh a little. “Yeah, let’s not rely on those ‘seventy-two hour’ deodorants,” she said humorously.

As they went from the bedroom to the bathroom, Rasa took a few steps closer to the bathtub, testing the water’s temperature with a hand. At the question, she moved her eyes from the rippling water to Eamon. “I could give you my coyest smile and embarrassedly tell you I should go first because I was already getting ready for that before you arrived, but I’m tired,” she announced. “And I haven’t had that spirit in about a decade,” she admitted. “So I’m going to cut the corners and tell you you’re welcome to join me if you wish. You will eventually see me naked anyway. I won’t force this kind of intimacy on you, though. Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll turn around and get rid of this robe. And, in the meantime, you can decide whether you’d like to accept my invitation or not,” she headed towards the clothes’ hanger closer to the window. “Whatever you choose, I won’t judge,” she said that last part while looking over her shoulder at him.

“Oh...well then...” Eamon murmured, blinking slowly at her. It made sense he supposed, but he wasn’t really used to arguing outside of his siblings, and he had certainly never been blackmailed for sex before. With the deodorant comment though he couldn’t help but smile.

He had to admit he hadn’t been expecting the response from her. When he asked he presumed she would either say go ahead before her, or that he could take a rest while he waited his turn. “O...oh.” Turning away as Rasa dropped the robe he felt his face heating up. He wasn’t a stranger to casual sex, in fact he had probably been naked around his fair share of the castle residents. But there was something so unexpected about it, and casual, she wasn’t doing it to seduce him. She did have a point though, one day they would have to see each other naked, after all they were expected to create heirs. Besides, if he stopped and waited now there was no chance he wasn’t falling asleep. With a nod half to himself and half at her he began to shed his clothes, careful not to focus on her as he moved to the bath to join her. “Thank you, I guess? Not everyone would share their bath water.”

Though Katrien had intended to throw a party for her birthday this year, with all the rumors flying of the conflict between her own country and Russia, it hadn’t felt terribly appropriate. Kat was absolutely not one for politics, but even so, throwing a party for herself while in the country that might’ve been about to wage war on her own felt… off.  So instead, that evening, she simply sat in the dining hall, trying to keep her head down and enjoy the food from her home in relative peace. 

When she noticed someone sitting across from her in peripheral vision, she said, without looking up, “If you’re here to ask me what’s going on with The Netherlands and Russia, don’t bother. They don’t tell the spares anything.” 

Eamon rarely had dinner in the dining hall, but every now and then Niamh dragged him in, or he was encouraged to do so by Nell. It was the latter in this instance, but at least as he scoured the tables his gaze fell to a familiar face. Making his way towards Katrien he lowered himself into the seat opposite, lifting a brow with her words.

“I wasn’t, and trust me when I say I know it,” he replied, wondering idly what was on the menu for that evening. “Happy birthday by the way. I hope it hasn’t been too bad.”

Elias grinned, “are you saying I couldn’t try out for the leading lady?” With his free hand he pretended to brush long, luxurious locks over his shoulder as he gave Eamon an exaggerated wink. 

At the mention of making a decision the prince’s grin faded, and he took a long, quiet drag on his cigarette. “Nah,” he exhaled, blowing smoke away from Eamon. “Liechtenstein, we’re neutral. Always have been, more or less, you know? Neutrality suits me fine, I don’t have beef with either of them, they should follow their hearts. We’re all gonna die one day may as well do it happily,” he shrugged. Elias didn’t really like thinking about serious matters, such as politics, war, anything related to running a country, really. In fact, he usually went out of his way to avoid them completely. That being said, he could still feel the weight of the situation, and he knew what his responsibilities were, even if he wished blissful ignorance on himself. 

“Here, knock yourself out,” he offered the lit cigarette to Eamon and smiled.“So what would you do in their situation? The lovebirds. I don’t care about the war-” he wrinkled his nose, then corrected himself, “don’t care to discuss it, anyway.” 

Eamon pretended to study the other with the extravagant motions, as if thinking very carefully about it. “Actually you’re right, it would have to be the Princess. You’re too pretty to be Matthias.” There was a slight smile though there, to show he was mostly joking.

“Lichtenstein...huh,” he mused, running the name over in his mind. “So you and Switzerland huh? Kings of neutrality. Wait, isn’t Lichtenstein that tiny place you could walk through in like five hours?” Eamon had vague recollections from his years of education, some things he had tried to pay attention to in life despite the difficulties of those years. Taking the cigarette offered the Irish prince raised it to his lips, drawing it in as he leant back.

“I guess that makes me the prince right?” Exhaling a stream of smoke he passed the cigarette back. “Probably the same as them I guess. Maybe try to keep it more on the down low though. What about you?”

@eamono-rourke

Nell ran a hand through her hair, fingers catching on stubborn strands at the back which resulted in a sigh. It had been a long, tiring day of revising and organizing files in between seeing patients, but Nell ultimately enjoyed it anyway. She liked to be busy all day, every day.

She glanced at her watch, noted the time, then quickly retrieved her next appointment’s file. Eamon O’Rourke. She spent quite a bit of time worrying about the Irish prince both on and off the clock, mostly because in her relatively short career as a psychologist she’d only encountered persistent depressive disorder a few times. Although that technically didn’t matter, as no two patients were ever exactly the same. 

Another week and another therapy appointment. Eamon could be hit and miss about how he felt towards them, sometimes he enjoyed the working through of emotions and other times he loathed it. Either way after ten years of it he was more than used to it. 

Having farewelled Niamh he made his way towards Nell’s office quarters at the designated time, pausing in front of her door. Taking a deep breath to try and calm himself as he always did he raised his hand and knocked. “Nell? It’s Eamon.”

Elias wasn’t really one to gossip, the Liechtensteiner prince was usually too absorbed in his own little world for that. This particular rumour, however, seemed to be on everyone’s lips and was hard to miss even for him. Aside from finding the whole military deal absolutely tiring and a complete vibe killer, Elias did find the idea of “forbidden” love very intriguing.

“Going against parents to be with the one you love, they lap that up in Hollywood.” he thought aloud, before taking a long drag of his cigarette. “It’s sweet, you know, if you exclude the countries acting like little kids playing with those green plastic army men.” 

Eamon couldn’t help but let out a snort with the whimsical thoughts the prince was giving. He hadn’t even reached the figure, just been within hearing distance, but it had been so ridiculous he couldn’t help it. “Perhaps it’ll be the next big blockbuster. Maybe you could even try out... it’d have to be for the Dutch prince though,” he started, sinking down heavily next to the other.

“Aren’t you suppose to be deciding who’s back you’re going to support if it turns into war?” It was a valid question, he knew his eldest brother would be taking the possibility seriously. He also knew that their family would unanimously stand beside Matthias, not that he paid as much attention to politics as he should. With a half sigh he gestured towards the other. “Are you going to share that?” 

Gabe grinned. “Listen, I’d switch and give you the easier job, but I am most certainly not going to help Vee shovel. The rest of my day will be filled with nag this and nag that, and probably won’t shut up about the Dobhar-chu for the one thousandth time. I swear she has her spiel memorized at this point about that stupid water weasel, yet can’t grasp the hint that I have heard the story when I am reciting it back to her,” he complained. “You can always just ditch her and pick up a paint roller. I’ll tell her I suckered you into it if she complains about it to you.”

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” Eamon commented, a slight snort escaping. “Who do you think she practiced the Dobhar-chu talk on? Besides, she was actually talking about some kind of snow cryptid which was pretty fitting.” The invitation to stay in the warm with a less strenuous task proved tempting and Eamon looked around himself for a spare paint brush. “Alright, you better do. It’s your head on the line this time. And if you fail me on it I’ll send her your way for more Dobhar-chu talk.”

Thomas felt a little silly- both for going with his friend’s desperate bid for escape, and for not even considering trying to get out himself. He would’ve been content to sit and wait until they were inevitably rescued, and now he was realizing just how defeatist that was, seeing how desperate Eamon was to get out of here. He reached for a light fixture, but, naturally, he was too short to reach it. “I guess you should try the lights,” he told Eamon with a grimace. He took his phone out of his pocket and switched on the flashlight, taking a better look at their surroundings. “Otherwise… something on the baseboards, maybe? I’m not sure what else there would be in every room.” 

If Eamon hadn’t been so beside himself with panic he probably would’ve laughed at Thomas’ attempt at reaching the light. Instead he simply nodded, and made his way over to where the English prince was situated, pausing as he reached up. “How about you look down there and I grab up here?” He suggested, before tugging a little less than gently at the sconce. For a split second as he felt a shift he thought that he had been successful, but then it gave way as the entire thing came out of the wall. “Oh...whoops.”