stupid Birb Bomber

“I can barely breathe without feeling nauseous, and you want me to eat?!” You whined, sprawled on the wooden dock of the port as you tried to make your stomach stop churning. Lucas scooped you up into his arms the second he was done helping Pierre. 

“Come now, darling. Lying there like that makes you look like a commoner.”  

“I am a commoner.” You snarked, trying to squirm out of his arms. His grip just tightened. 

“You were a commoner.” He corrected, carrying you towards a waiting carriage. 

“What is it with you and commoners?” Pierre asked with a frown. Lucas glared at a guard who tried to help Pierre into the carriage, placing you down to help him himself. You clambered in after him, refusing to let Lucas help you.  

It was overly ostentatious inside, in your opinion, but the seats were comfortable enough. You were glued to the window as the carriage began moving, watching as it slowly made its way through town. It looked similar enough to your old kingdom, down to the castle being the overall highest point up on the cliffs, where it could look down upon the sea. 

“We could’ve just walked.” You huffed as the carriage pulled up in front of the castle. 

“Among the commoners? Darling, we are royalty. We do not mingle with commoners.” Lucas scoffed. 

“Again. What did the commoners do to you, Lucas?” Pierre scoffed as the carriage door was opened by a butler. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N. You can take a walk through town another time if you would like.” 

“They’re my child, Pierre. I decide what they can and cannot do.” Lucas hissed, his eyes flashing with a sudden danger. You watched as Pierre instantly froze before quickly looking away. He was silent as the three of you climbed out of the carriage, quickly making an excuse to head inside as Lucas showed you the gardens.  

Back home the palace gardens had become your own kind of safe haven. They were the place you ran to during your breaks when you didn’t have enough time to go down to the beach. Technically, maids weren’t supposed to be there, but no one had ever stopped you, so you kept going back. 

You had your own little corners here and there. You loved climbing the garden wall to look at the ocean, loved the hedge maze you’d begun trying to map. In the summer you’d splash around in the fountains sometimes, just enjoying nature as you cooled off. 

Looking back, you were almost certain King Peter knew what you’d been doing. His office faced the back area of the gardens after all, right where most of your preferred areas were. But even if he had been the one to allow you the small mercy of enjoying the gardens, it just added more confusion to your feelings about him. 

It wasn’t something you enjoyed thinking about a lot, in fact you tried to ignore it when you could. You think you loathed him, but there was also a part of you that had never grown up from the small child who learned that the King was also their father. The small part that had drawn a little stick figure family of you and the king holding hands like you saw other children do with their families. The small part of you that craved the validation and love that came with having an actual parent there who wanted them and loved them. 

But that small part was also drowned out a lot by the hatred you felt. Hatred for what happened to your mother, for being forced to watch everything hidden away inside the walls. For never being good enough to have your own crown or debut or anything your half siblings had gotten. The love and care they’d grown up with.  

A storm was brewing within you even now, weighing if trying to run back to a King who never cared about you was even worth it. Weighing if he would even care and want to be your father, if you even wanted him to try. Maybe you did, just to watch him fail so you could finally move on. 

It was pointless though, not when you were stuck here with Lucas. Walking through an unfamiliar garden as he monologed about something or other without much care to if you were paying attention. 

Then there was Lucas. In the week you’d spent on his ship, you’d learned quite a bit about him. For one, he was the reason why Pierre needed a cane. Lucas had been the one to tell you, laughing about it as if it were some funny story. Any plan of running away had died almost instantly after you learned about that. If he was willing to do that to his brother, what would he do to you if you tried to run?  

You’d also learned that he got murderous very quickly if he couldn’t find you. You’d snuck into Pierre’s cabin once on the ship so he could help you with your hair and in the five minutes he couldn’t find you Lucas had apparently thrown two people overboard. You still hadn’t fully emotionally processed that yet, you think.  

So those were your two options for fathers. The man that had never acknowledged your existence or the man who was likely to hurt you to keep you with him.  

Both made a certain type of dread just pool in your stomach. 

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ 

A crown was a heavy burden to bear. Lucas had you fitted for one the day after you’d arrived back as well as having a full wardrobe made for you. Now, at least you looked the part of the royal he wanted you to be. The crown wasn’t a full one, more of a jewel encrusted circlet, but it was still heavy and made your head hurt if you wore it for too long. 

You spent most of your time now at Lucas’ side. Sitting in his office while he did work, sitting on a throne next to him as he held court. The nobles had only made the mistake of gossiping about your possible background in his earshot once. 

You’d learned that day that the smell of blood made you nauseous and that Lucas absolutely terrified you. 

Pierre had scolded him for giving you nightmares when you’d woken up screaming that night, quietly apologizing that he couldn’t help you more. That he couldn’t shield you from the madman that was his brother. He’d made you some warm tea with honey before convincing Lucas to let him read you a book to help you go back to sleep. 

You hadn’t slept well since, haunted every night by the sight of blood-soaked silk, a dripping sword and eyes that looked at you with nothing but fear.  

The few days he hadn’t been focused on work; he’d taken you down to the private beach at the bottom of the cliffs. It was the same one he’d told you about the day he’d caught you when you were just looking for shells. Now you hardly payed them any attention, just staring out at the water. 

If this was what being a royal was, this isolation and fear and discomfort, maybe you should’ve been happy to be raised as a maid’s child. To grow up with chores but also a certain kind of freedom. There were no escapes here, just guards and the silent threat of violence hanging over your head.  

But, as it did, time still passed. Pierre was the one who seemed to notice how much you hated being forced to Lucas’ side all day. He’d taken to picking out books for you and dragging you away whenever Lucas would allow.  

You liked him a lot more than Lucas but learned very quickly not to make it obvious. Lucas didn’t like that anyone could be above him in your mind, not when he was your ‘father’. He’d yelled at you about it once, made you cry and only stopped when you finally choked out that he was your favorite person. 

You were trapped, wishing desperately for a way out. Wishing that for once someone would be on your side for the right reasons. 

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ 

There was a man in your room. He was dressed in black, his face hidden with a hand over your mouth as he woke you. It was dark out, the moon hidden behind storm clouds and torrential rain. It muffled the noise enough that he could whisper to you without the guards outside hearing. 

“Do you want to go home?” He asked, his voice vaguely familiar. 

“Home?” You whispered back, voice muffled further by his hand. 

“King Peter sent me. I can take you home, Y/N.” It only took you a second of thinking before you nodded. You wanted the head maid back, your chores, your tiny room. You wanted your old life back, even if hiding in the walls was painful. You wanted to go home. 

He led you out onto the balcony outside your window, having picked the lock from the outside. The marble was slick with rain, and the wind whipped your hair as you slowly climbed down the rope he’d tied to the railing. You slipped halfway down, catching yourself on your wrist. You heard a crack, bit your tongue to stifle a noise of pain and stood up. You could let yourself be in pain when you were safe, and you weren’t safe yet. 

The man noticed immediately, wrapping a spare cloth around your wrist before leading you to a small crack in the palace wall. You were already soaked through, freezing cold, but you were almost out. 

The second you were both out and out of sight of the castle, you ran. Darting through the dark streets, trying not to slip on wet cobblestone, just sprinting towards freedom.  

There was a ship waiting at the dock, a merchant ship from the look of it. The man led you on board where it was completely silent and empty. He pulled up the gangway behind him as he led you below deck. 

There were a few barrels, assumedly of wine or mead. However, he opened one to pull out a dry set of clothes. One for him and one he handed to you. Your old clothes, one of your old uniforms. The feel of the coarser fabric almost made you cry after weeks of unusual silks and satins.  

You felt exactly when the anchor was raised, and the ship began to sail away from the dock. Felt the relief as Lucas’ castle faded smaller and smaller before it was out of sight completely.  

The man had begun unwrapping his face and you froze when you realized just who your mysterious savior was. Standing there, in all his princely glory, was your brother. Well, you supposed half-brother was more accurate.  

“What?” He asked, rolling his eyes. “As if Father would trust anyone else with a job as delicate as this.”  

“He sent you for me? King Peter did?” You asked, your voice shaky and nervous. The little kid inside you was screaming that maybe he did care, at least a little.  

“Who else would’ve sent me for you? He would’ve come himself if he wasn’t overseeing the rebuilding of the parts of the castle that burned down. Just be happy I didn’t have anything better to do.” 

You ignored his snarky tone and his lack of interest in you, changing into dry clothes as the ship rocked back and forth. You never thought you’d miss the seasickness but this time? This time it meant you were going home.