The Hilltop Prince

Elliot pulled up his pants and stepped down from the tailor’s stand, shaking his head and reaching for his shirt that was hung nearby. He was stopped by the sound of a familiar voice, making him cock his head to the side and think for a moment.

“Uncle.” He said simply, in a completely emotionless voice. Elliot cleared his throat and put his shirt back on. An awkward moment of silence passed as he finished getting dressed. “I was out of line. Probably shouldn’t have spoken that way to the man.” Elliot said thoughtfully as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves.

The prince turned around and walked over to his uncle. Elliot was grown now, twice the size of any man he usually encountered. But even now, looking down at Evgeny after so many years, there was something that made him uneasy still.

“Is there something I can do for you?”

Evgeny hummed as he watched his nephew dress, eyes rolling over the lines of hard muscle. It seemed he’d bulked up considerably. Interesting. His first thought was to peel back the skin and see just how dense the muscles really were. However, his brother would kill him for laying a hand on the prince so he was forced to discard the idea. Perhaps he could find a similarly muscular commoner and get the same result.

The duke almost laughed at how cold Elliot was toward him. Had he really hated his suggestion that much? It looked as though it had done the boy some good. Shrugging, he settled against one wall, leaning into it. “He’s not an important person,” he replied, “and I doubt that’s the worst that’s been said about him behind his back or to his face.” Honestly, what was the point in worrying about what a tailor thought?

He met his nephew’s eyes with a look usually reserved for ugly furniture one didn’t know where to put. Being smaller was an annoyance, but Evgeny had never been a particularly muscular man. “I came to see what you were doing,” he answered simply, “there was so much noise I could have sworn you’d gotten drunk and found a whore. Hardly becoming of a prince.”

Elliot scoffed and kept his back turned, popping open another bottle and drinking. “Hardly becoming of a prince.” He repeatedly sarcastically. The boy looked over his shoulder. “You seem to have many ideas concerning what a prince should be like.”

As mad as he was at Dane, Elliot simply couldn’t stand the sound of his brother like that. Seeing him vulnerable. It hurt him more than he could say. Dane always protected him when they were kids, and now Elliot knew it was his duty to return that favor in kind. But for four years he lived convinced that he’d failed. He remembered the good times and the love they shared; it was forcing himself to try and forget those things that was difficult.

The youger prince’s hand snapped up with surprising agility, grabbing Dane’s face and covering his mouth. “Don’t…” He spoke quietly, taking a step back and pulling Dane in closer. Elliot’s arm reached around Dane’s body…getting nearer than he’d been in years…then shut the door behind his brother. Before locking it with a click.

He stood there and took another step, closing any space between them. Elliot’s piercing blue eyes searched Dane’s features, his hand crawled over his brother’s skin and roughly squeezed the back of his neck.

“…why did you leave?” Elliot’s voice sounded calmer than it should have been.

Being in control of his emotions had never been something that Dane was very good at. In fact more often than not they ruled him. As a child he would get sad and then angry rather quickly. As a teenager the feeling of being trapped had lead him to run and now his guilt made him vulnerable to his family at the drop of a hat. He needed to repair what he had broken. He needed to be able to pick up the pieces that Elliot didn’t seem to want put back together. Losing his brother like this was more than Dane could bare. So when Elliot finally spoke, Dane felt his chest tighten. 

His eyes widened slightly as the others hand covered his mouth and he grabbed his younger brothers arm holding it tightly. As bad as this moment might look from the outside it was more than Dane had gotten out of Elliot since returning. He’d take it. He had to. His eyes flicked backwards as the door behind him was closed. Shilo left out in the hallway and Dane inside with Elliot. It was probably better that way. If Elliot was going to beat him it was better that Shilo be out in the hall. 

Wincing as his neck was grabbed, Dane tensed and looked up at Elliot. Dane wasn’t used to looking up at him. He couldn’t help but wonder how long Elliot had been taller then him. “Because I could not stand to stay.” He answered, his gaze up wavering. “I felt like an animal trapped in a cage. I needed to see the north and meet its people. Our people but I came back for you. All of you. My family.” Dane explained. “And I am never leaving again. Not like that.”

For a moment, Elliot seemed angry. Seemed like he was going to react badly, break something, or even yell at his brother. Instead...his voice remained calm and soft, almost a whisper. "Why did you leave me..." He restated his question to reflect how he truly felt. At the same time, his grip around Dane's neck softened, but he didn't move his hand. Instead, he leaned in, resting his head against his brother's.

Elliot could only think of all the good times he'd spent with Dane when they were younger. How much he looked up to his older brother. But those memories were forever poisoned with the idea engraved in his mind that Dane had betrayed him. Thinking that his brother was dead was bad enough on its own. But when Dane returned safe and sound all kinds of other thoughts flooded Elliot's mind. For a while he thought that perhaps Dane hated them. He wasn't sure what he could believe, and with all of his own traumatic experiences during wartime...Elliot had become a very mistrusting person.

All of a sudden he tensed up again. It happened very quickly. Elliot grabbed Dane, pulling him into the room, then all at once tossed him onto the bed. The larger man climbed on the mattress, pinning his brother down under his weight. His hand reached tentativley over the other's neck again. But instead of hurting him...Elliot leaned down slowly. They were so close that Dane could feel the younger prince's breath rolling down his neck.

Elliot held Tobin’s hand and offered a warm smile. He nodded slowly. “They’re right, you know. It’s like the winters are getting colder, I’d have you stay where it’s warm.” The older brother ruffled his sibling’s hair lovingly, then turned away back into his room. Elliot knew how innocent Tobin was, and though usually he always loved seeing his younger brother happy, the weather in Bergia was no joke and lives were claimed every winter. “Hey, help me find my knapsack…I have something for you.”

Tobin let out a little huff as the other ruffled his hair. “You realize that I am Bergian-borne too. A little cold won’t hurt me….” Of course, that wasn’t necessarily true. Sometimes he lungs struggled in the extremely cold air, but he wanted to be strong – he didn’t want to worry his family anymore. “Something for me?” A look of excitement came over his face and he was quick to begin looking around the room. Soon, he found the bag and quickly brought it to his older brother. “What did you get?”

Elliot couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept this much. It was as though he was getting even for all the sleepless nights away from home on the field. Or maybe it was more the fact that he’d done nothing but sit in his room and get drunk since he returned home.

Regardless, Elliot was a very heavy sleeper, and it would usually take a lot to wake him. But for some reason, the sound of his mother’s voice was enough to bring him back from his dreams. His bedchamber was a mess to say the least. Even the windows were covered with sheets and blankets to hide the sun. And in the middle of this mess laid Elliot, the covers strewn haphazadrly over his sleeping figure. “Mmmm…later Mommy…” He said, groaning in his tired voice.

The clothes Elliot was sleeping in seemed a bit too small on him, and as he stretched in his bed the sound of the fabric tearing around his arms and body was actually audible. With his eyes closed he reached out to grab his mother. “Coooome…”

WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER, THE BOY COULD EASILY CONVINCE PANDORA that he needed just a few more minutes of sleep before waking up. pandora always babied his children a bit more than zeke ever did, but he always knew that it was that level of nurturing that would balance out the rugged nature that zeke employed. hopefully while they were down in the dining room eating, pandora could send someone up to take care of this mess elliot had created.

It was no real secret that Elliot was a momma's boy. It was at times the subject of scrunity around the royal court when Elliot was younger. Every time the boy ran into trouble he would run for his mother. And even now, their relationship was very strong. Elliot, in his half sleepy state, pulled his mother up close to him to hold in his arms. He wrapped his arms around the queen and sighed softly against the back of his neck.

“Come in.” He muttered disinterestedly at the knock on his door while he popped open another bottle of ale.

Elliot actually smiled at his brother when he saw him walk through the door, then shook his head at the older boy’s obscene thoughts. He sipped from his bottle and began to toss random garments from his bed with his free hand to clear up space for Henri to sit. From where he was standing, the prince brutishly wrapped an arm around his brother’s head where he sat. Then pulled Henri close up against his bare torso in an uneven hug. “I missed you too big brother.” He laughed and took another long swing, before handing Henri the bottle and joining him on the bed.

“I’m grateful to be back. Home does feel…different though. What news on your end?”

Even with the amount of time that has passed, Elliot hasn’t changed a single bit. Of course, he became more muscular from his service in the military but pretty much everything remained the same. At least in terms of appearance, Elliot was growing up to be a mighty fine man. He had plenty of catching up to do with the fourth born and the two brothers definitely needed to catch up. 

Returning the embrace, he patted Elliot’s head softly and sighed. “You reek of alcohol. So early in the day too,” Henri scolded before snatching the bottle to take a mighty swig for himself. Grinning, he grunted at the burning sensation in his throat and fell back to lie down with Elliot on the bed. “You’ll never believe this. Prince Solomon has taken quite the interest in me. I might stand a great chance of becoming a Queen someday,” he explained as a smile graced his features. “What about you? Anything interesting going on?”

Elliot often thought of his brother Henri when he was away. He always felt for his older brother and the burden that he carried. As a kid, Elliot's older brothers were his role models, and he always remembered having the most fun with his brother Henri. But deep down he knew that as second oldest, Henri would always have a very important role to fill.

Elliot stood there with his shirt pulled up in his room, another man kneeled in front of him. His back to the door which happened to be wide open…clearly not caring who would see or hear him. It was…a very strange situation at first glance.

“….I still don’t understand why I need tailored pants. This is a waste of my time, get out of here. Get!”

His attention turned to the tailor settled between the prince’s legs and not one speck of empathy welled up in him. The man had chosen his career path, he should deal with whatever came. 

Once the tailor had scurried away, Evgeny laughed softly. “Because sometimes unpleasant things are ridiculous but necessary,” he stated, stepping farther into the room. “And people tend to like seeing attractive people in fitted clothes.” 

Elliot pulled up his pants and stepped down from the tailor’s stand, shaking his head and reaching for his shirt that was hung nearby. He was stopped by the sound of a familiar voice, making him cock his head to the side and think for a moment.

“Uncle.” He said simply, in a completely emotionless voice. Elliot cleared his throat and put his shirt back on. An awkward moment of silence passed as he finished getting dressed. “I was out of line. Probably shouldn’t have spoken that way to the man.” Elliot said thoughtfully as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves.

The prince turned around and walked over to his uncle. Elliot was grown now, twice the size of any man he usually encountered. But even now, looking down at Evgeny after so many years, there was something that made him uneasy still.

Elliot stood there with his shirt pulled up in his room, another man kneeled in front of him. His back to the door which happened to be wide open…clearly not caring who would see or hear him. It was…a very strange situation at first glance.

“….I still don’t understand why I need tailored pants. This is a waste of my time, get out of here. Get!”

Henri knocked on the door before entering, arms crossed as he saw his younger brother. “What, he couldn’t take you all the way?” he teased, fully aware of how well-endowed Elliot was. The second born stepped inside and sat  on the corner of the bed. “So tell me. How’ve you been? I must say it’s really nice to see you again.” A smile crossed his features, icy blue hues trained on Elliot. 

"Come in." He muttered disinterestedly at the knock on his door while he popped open another bottle of ale.

Elliot actually smiled at his brother when he saw him walk through the door, then shook his head at the older boy's obscene thoughts. He sipped from his bottle and began to toss random garments from his bed with his free hand to clear up space for Henri to sit. From where he was standing, the prince brutishly wrapped an arm around his brother's head where he sat. Then pulled Henri close up against his bare torso in an uneven hug. "I missed you too big brother." He laughed and took another long swing, before handing Henri the bottle and joining him on the bed.

Elliot stood there with his shirt pulled up in his room, another man kneeled in front of him. His back to the door which happened to be wide open…clearly not caring who would see or hear him. It was…a very strange situation at first glance.

“….I still don’t understand why I need tailored pants. This is a waste of my time, get out of here. Get!”

The Castherian noble was allowed inside the castle and made his way to the prince’s room without an escort. And maybe that was a good thing because when he stood right outside of the open door, the sight, and the exchange of words leaving Valentine awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

However, when the stranger left, bumping into the noble, Val straightened up and walked inside, as if what happened before this didn’t occur, though the blush on his cheeks said otherwise. “Hello, Elliot. I see that you are relieving your stress with drinks and… fleshly pleasures,” he said, believing that the other man was servicing him.

It wasn’t easy to get on Elliot’s nerves, even when he was under the influence of the drink. But today it seemed everything was bothering him. The young prince leaned against his nightstand, rubbing the back of his neck and sighing deeply. He reached into his drawer to produce some kind of strange root his doctor had given him for moments when his drinking made him sick, and popped it in his mouth. Instead of chewing it he grabbed a bottle of ale to wash it down...then thought twice and set down the bottle.

When he turned around Elliot saw the last person he ever expected to meet in his chambers like that. The sight of Valentine brought back many sudden memories, and for a second the prince stood there looking dumbfounded. He took a moment to gather himself, then narrowed his gaze at the nobleman. "Step inside and close the door." He commanded to him. Elliot took a seat on the bed, eyes trained on Valentine the whole time. He folded his arms over his chest and sat there for a few minutes chewing on the bitter medication he had taken. He spoke once he was sure they were alone.

There was a loud sound of fabric tearing as Elliot quite literally ripped his pants off and stood there in just his undergarments. He reached for the nightstand to grab a large bottle of ale, and took a long swing. He heard his brother’s voice in the background, but didn’t respond. Instead the younger prince kept his back turned.

Elliot would probably never admit it, but losing Dane had probably been the most crushing experience he was ever forced to endure. He saw many a great and terrible things when he went to war. But his true drinking problem all began when he recieved word of Dane’s disappearence. Time passed and there was no news of his brother. Each day became long and longer. Elliot even dispatched a group of his own men to search the mountains for his lost sibling, on pretense that they were some kind of scouting party. When he finally accepted his brother’s death, he vowed to never allow anyone to have that much control over his emotions. It made Elliot’s entire outlook towards his family change.

And now Dane stood there speaking to him. Elliot turned slowly, then moved towards his brother even slower, eyeing Dane up with each deliberate step. He stopped when his chest was all but up in Dane’s face, then leaned against the door frame. Elliot took another sip from his bottle, but didn’t say a word, his deep blue eyes searching his brother’s face.

When Dane had left, he had not thought much about what would happen to his family with him gone. He had thought they might be relieved to have him gone. To have his never ending energy and uncontrolled emotions out of the home for a little while. Never in a million years had Dane thought that he would be a loss to them. That they would miss him or grieve him. When he got back he had been slightly surprised by the damage he’d done to his mother, father, and brothers. Of course, he knew now how much they cared. He knew now that leaving was the worst mistake of his life and that making up for it was going to take time. But he was willing to put in the work needed to get his family back. It seemed everyone else was willing as well. Everyone but Elliot. 

He watched as his brother crossed the room and smelt the ale on his breath once he got close. As children, Dane had watched quite closely over Elliot. TH\he man before him was his closest younger brother. He was Dane’s to teach. He remembered wrestling in the snow and showing Elliot how to hold a sword, or how to shoot a bow. He remembered sneaking out with him as teenagers and finding the best pubs to drink at. The best whore houses to play in. He missed those days. Dane wanted so badly to take the last four years back and yet Elliot seemed stuck on them. Not that Dane blamed him. No, he just wished he’d work with him. 

Looking up at his little bother, Dane’s amber eyes narrowed slowly. He felt Shilo push against the back of his legs but did nothing to break eye contact with Elliot. He was not about to back down. “I am not a ghost.” He pointed out in a flat tone. His mouth turned down into a harsh frown. “You can not simply ignore me all my life.” Dane added in a slight hiss. “Do you want to hit me? Hit me. I do not care. Just do something, Elliot for-” HIs throat tightened suddenly. Eyes softening as his voice quivered. “-for godsake.” Dane breathed.

As mad as he was at Dane, Elliot simply couldn't stand the sound of his brother like that. Seeing him vulnerable. It hurt him more than he could say. Dane always protected him when they were kids, and now Elliot knew it was his duty to return that favor in kind. But for four years he lived convinced that he'd failed. He remembered the good times and the love they shared; it was forcing himself to try and forget those things that was difficult.

The youger prince's hand snapped up with surprising agility, grabbing Dane's face and covering his mouth. "Don't..." He spoke quietly, taking a step back and pulling Dane in closer. Elliot's arm reached around Dane's body...getting nearer than he'd been in years...then shut the door behind his brother. Before locking it with a click.

He stood there and took another step, closing any space between them. Elliot's piercing blue eyes searched Dane's features, his hand crawled over his brother's skin and roughly squeezed the back of his neck.

“elliot!” pandora called, stepping into the chambers of his fourth born, looking at the mess that the young prince had already accrued in the few weeks he had been back home. most of it was clothes strew about the chamber floors, a habit he had started in his youth and never grew out of, but there were plenty of empty ale and vodka pitchers littered about. pandora enjoyed a drink as many a queen did in their spare time, but he was still able to function properly. with this new habit of elliot’s, he was beginning to wonder if it would become a problem. “wake up, baby boy! mommy’s waiting.”  

@prince–elliot

Elliot couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept this much. It was as though he was getting even for all the sleepless nights away from home on the field. Or maybe it was more the fact that he'd done nothing but sit in his room and get drunk since he returned home.

Regardless, Elliot was a very heavy sleeper, and it would usually take a lot to wake him. But for some reason, the sound of his mother's voice was enough to bring him back from his dreams. His bedchamber was a mess to say the least. Even the windows were covered with sheets and blankets to hide the sun. And in the middle of this mess laid Elliot, the covers strewn haphazadrly over his sleeping figure. "Mmmm...later Mommy..." He said, groaning in his tired voice.

Elliot muttered to himself as he struggled to unbutton the pants that didn’t quite fit him. When he heard his brother’s voice he tensed up for a moment, then turned around slowly.

“Tobi.” His voice was noticably changed from the tone he was using with the seamster. Just then the realization that he had probably gotten very carried away struck him. “I…I should go apologize to him. Sorry you had to hear that.” He beckoned for his brother to come in with a wave of his hand. “Where have you been?”

Tobin frowned as he approached the other. “You probably should apologize when you see him again…” he agreed. The youngest was against being cruel to the help when they were just trying to do their job. Reaching out, he took Elliot’s hand in his own, running his thumb over the back of the other man’s hand. “I was just riding on Flurry while it’s still nice out. I won’t get to take her out when the winter gets really bad because Papa and Mama don’t want me getting sick again…”

Elliot stood there with his shirt pulled up in his room, another man kneeled in front of him. His back to the door which happened to be wide open…clearly not caring who would see or hear him. It was…a very strange situation at first glance.

“….I still don’t understand why I need tailored pants. This is a waste of my time, get out of here. Get!”

…And when he saw it was just an uncomfortable seamster, he wasn’t entirely surprised. He sighed as the other nearly knocked him over on his way out of Elliot’s room before focusing on his brother. “…Elliot?” he began, his voice gentle, as usual. “Are you alright?”

Elliot muttered to himself as he struggled to unbutton the pants that didn't quite fit him. When he heard his brother's voice he tensed up for a moment, then turned around slowly.

“Yes I’m tapping the keg, why not? Yeah no that’s what I-”

Elliot’s rant was interrupted by an oddly familiar voice. He wasn’t drunk enough to be hearing things. The large man turned almost comically in his stool, which seemed uncomfortably small for him, his first clutching a pint and eyes in a squint.

“Solomon.” He said, more so relieved that he wasn’t going crazy. It had been a long time since these two crossed paths, Elliot barely recognized his soon to be brother in law. “Uhm…care to take a seat?”

There were no free seats next to Elliot. So he resorted to pulling the guy sitting to his right clean off his barstool by the collar of his shirt.

The older, but slightly smaller, prince simply watched as the younger male moved to grab a man from his seat, nearly throwing him off of it. Instead of focusing his gaze on the prince, though, his gaze was focused on the commoner, surprised by the prince’s lack of respect for his own people. “Ser, are you alright?” Solomon spoke, rushing to the aid of the male that had been so rudely tossed aside. It was a sign, like that, that had Solomon looking at the other male in a different light - but he knew that ale could certainly do a number on people.

After ensuring that the male was alright, and giving him a handful of gold, the crown prince moved to the seat that was now empty and sat beside the prince. “Your finding a seat for me wasn’t necessary, your grace… I could’ve found my own.” And without harming his family’s relationship with its people, either. “But it is good to see you. Your time in your father’s military clearly has done you well. I believe last I saw you, you were slimmer than I, and now look at you… If one were to look at you, they’d no doubt you have Bergian blood in you.”

Elliot sat there with a serious expression over his face. He sipped from his mug quietly as Solomon dealt with the scene behind him. The chatter in the tavern continued, with a few hushed whispers and faces turning to look at the two princes. When Solomon finally took his seat, Elliot listened to him, but made no effort to respond. Instead, he whistled to the barkeep and extended his cup. After his refill, he took another drink, then finally turned to look at his companion.

"A word of advice...this is not the place to be handing out money. Right now you've just attracted much unwanted attention." Elliot spoke low, gesturing with a wave of his hand at their surroundings. "You'll come to learn that in Bergia, these people are more likely to respect a ruler who can stomach his drink, rather than one who babies them." After all...no one ever babied Elliot...

“Fuck…I told you it wouldn’t fit…hold on hold on, how bout like this…Mmmm…yea that feels right. Actually fuck it, nevermind, you’re no good at this. For fuck’s sake.”

Elliot stood there with his shirt pulled up in his room, another man kneeled in front of him. His back to the door which happened to be wide open…clearly not caring who would see or hear him. It was…a very strange situation at first glance.

“….I still don’t understand why I need tailored pants. This is a waste of my time, get out of here. Get!”

Elliot was obviously a few drinks in, and the poor seamster had no choice but to stand and nod at the brutish prince, before hurriedly taking his leave. He left in such a rush, in fact, that he couldn’t help stumbling into someone on his way out of the dark cave that was Elliot’s chamber.

Throwing his arms up above his head, Dane stretched out and yawned loudly as he walked down the hallway. It was mid day and he’d been up early to take Shilo out. They went for a hunt as well and had brought back a good about of pheasants for dinner. The wolf walked at Dane’s side him. He knew his name, which was a good start, and pretty much knew not to leave Dane at this point. Right now that was probably just because Dane often gave him little bits of meat and because they’d spent about two weeks together. But over time Shilo would learn to be with him. 

As the two walked do the hallway, Dane over heard some sounds that were interesting to say the least. He headed towards them and stopped in the door way of Elliot’s chambers. looking into the room, Dane could not help but laugh. The man making his pants ran out past him and the older prince rolled his eyes. “Mother wont be pleased with you sending him away like that.” He pointed out, arms crossed over his chest. “Are you ready to speak to me yet?” Dane asked in a slightly more serious tone. Elliot had not said much to him at all since he’d come back home. It was horrible. He missed his younger brother something terrible. Not that he looked younger now. Dane was sure that if people guessed, they’d think Elliot was older. He’d turned into quite the man while Dane had been in wilds of the north. 

There was a loud sound of fabric tearing as Elliot quite literally ripped his pants off and stood there in just his undergarments. He reached for the nightstand to grab a large bottle of ale, and took a long swing. He heard his brother's voice in the background, but didn't respond. Instead the younger prince kept his back turned.

Elliot would probably never admit it, but losing Dane had probably been the most crushing experience he was ever forced to endure. He saw many a great and terrible things when he went to war. But his true drinking problem all began when he recieved word of Dane's disappearence. Time passed and there was no news of his brother. Each day became long and longer. Elliot even dispatched a group of his own men to search the mountains for his lost sibling, on pretense that they were some kind of scouting party. When he finally accepted his brother's death, he vowed to never allow anyone to have that much control over his emotions. It made Elliot's entire outlook towards his family change.