#lostprxnce

            ❝    kier     ---    you   are   injured  .          allow   me   to   help  .    ❞         worry  --  slicked   tone   pronounces   a     STATEMENT  ,   not   a     request  .           deft   hands   have   already   set   to   cleaning   the   wound     without    expressed   permission  .

                 The fae prince sat begrudgingly atop of his horse, his fur cloak wrapped snugly around him as he battled the cold. It’d been a couple hours since him and his “escort” had passed over into the territory of the winter court. About a month ago, his bastard of a father had evidently had enough of his presence. Before Adam could figure out his scheme, he’d gathered the entire court to meet in the throne room only to announce his arranged marriage to one of the sons of the winter king. Needless to say, the fae prince had been floored and seethed - having wanted to kill his father right then and there. Almost as if sensing this, the king of the Day court had made an excuse that Adam looked ill and ordered the guards to escort him back to his chambers. Fucking coward. What shocked him more than anything was the fact that his father was marrying him off to a man. When it came to Adam’s tastes, it wasn't a secret that he preferred the company of men more. However, for his father to announce it in front of everyone and declare his marriage to another male was a bold move. In other courts it wasn't considered a big deal but in his where bloodlines were everything it was frowned upon. The only reasoning he could could see behind his fathers actions in allying himself with the winter court was because the king had a disgrace of a son as well just like Adam and he wanted at least something out of it. So why not a political marriage to cease countless warring to open much needed trading among their courts? Now here he was...riding off to his doom. Let’s hope his future husband was at least good looking. Ugh, just thinking about the whole situation he was in forced into made him want to puke. On the bright side, at least he was away from his revolting family.  

             Hours later and his company finally arrived at the kings stronghold, the citizens muttering and staring at him in awe. Needless to say, Adam was incredibly handsome even by fae standards. He possessed an exotic look about him, with his two different colored eyes and pointed ears, probably from his mothers pixie side. Which was the whole reason his family treated him like shit - like it was his fault that his dad fucked one of the lesser fae and ended up with a bastard son. Despite his “impure bloodline” Adam was one of the most powerful high fae born in centuries, having acquired most of the seelie courts gifts from years of previous breeding in his ancestry. Something his father was unaware of and would only find out when he deemed it so. Loud footsteps echoed throughout the corridor as they made their way to the winter kings throne room, being flanked by his guards. The herald declared their arrival as they swung open the giant swinging doors. “Introducing Prince Adam of the Day court and his royal escort!” Well if he was going to be thrown to the wolves, he was going to make damn sure they knew what they were messing with. Magic suddenly began to crackle in the air, gathering his power around him and making the candle and magic infused lights flicker in the room. There were collective gasps within the room, his magic so powerful it was like being crushed beneath rubble.  And just as fast as it came, he let the magic die. Standing before the king, he did an almost mocking bow as the rest of his escort knelled. “Your Majesty.” He couldn't tell if his power had unnerved the winter king, the man was truly a cold bastard indeed. Eyes glance off to the side, his attention being caught by a highly attractive figure lingering beside the kings throne. His gaze widens at the sight of the other - feeling some kind of supernatural pull towards him. What the hell was that about? 

The Seelie Court was a place of many parties, though there were of course some that were more important than the rest. This one for instance coincided with an event in the mortal realm which gave the ley lines more power than they usually had. Almost the entirety of the Summer Court was present though there was one figure who he hadn’t expected to see.

           why was he grieving ?  that’s right. just moments ago they had come back from the seelie court, now with the mission of finding a book. more precisely the black volume of the dead && with that he might just be reunited with his sister. he didn’t fully trust the queen, even if she couldn’t spin a web of lies, but it had given him hope that helen would return. not only that, but having meet family in faerie that he had searched for, but never found. add onto the fact that kieran didn’t remember his betrayal && thought they were still --- something. leaning against a tree, most wouldn’t be able to tell he was internally shaking && that everything that happened was weighing on him mentally. even after rescuing kieran, he still hadn’t allowed himself to get too close to him when it wasn’t needed. 

           a slow, deep inhale he looked up to the sky, the stars for the moment less enchanting than those in faerie, but still breathtaking enough. vision became blurry as the thoughts of everything that took place rushed through his head. kieran, cristina, helen && the aunt he never knew he had. it was kieran’s voice that pulled him from thoughts, blinking to will any tears back. “  i am not grieving,   ”   he breathed out, straightening his back.  “  besides, worrying about me isn’t why you came with us.   ”

He has learned to play the mundane, not to perfection, but to passibility, over the past years. Though he has noticed himself aging faster without the magic, and diluted time in Faerie, but he has made himself a useful resource to those who would learn things or have a tricky task done in the Shadow Market.

The Hunters, in all their glory and terror, when they passed, did not fail to leave him frozen with silence, vibrating with interest and a chill down his spine. When they rode away, he could not help but notice one of them left behind, and lingering, a moth to the light, near the Institute. His curiosity catches the better of him, and it is with no small deal of shock he recognizes the straggler. He approaches cautious, quiet.

“You are a long way from home, Princeling. Why is that?” He knows one of his kind will see past the flimsy glamour, that keeps mundanes from noting the point of his ears, the leaf-mark scar on his face. He does not keep up the pretence.