Elwin had tried everything he could think of to get into the prince's tower. He sneaked, he bribed, he created distractions, he was a one man jester show. All to no avail, the guard at the foot of the stairs would not budge, being under strict orders from the king not to let anyone, but Elwin in particular out of all the anyones in the castle, disturb the healers work.
El camped near the foot of the stairs, making idle small talk with the tall and physically imposing guard. He was amiable enough to it, but both of them knew that Elwin was just biding his time and watching for a sign of weakness.
In the middle of the night as he sat in a chair with a blanket around him, the thought occurred to grapple up the side of the building. There was a window in the old nanny's room that he thought would be big enough for him to get through, and no bars covering it. Still it was many many stories tall . . . . He bet his sister could do it. It's just the kind of thing Dolce would do. Just for fun.
Somehow as he was trying to figure out the logistics of this with his sleepiness addled brain, Elwin managed to fall into a fitful sleep.
He was woken by voices.
“Let me help you ma'am.” The guard was saying.
Elwin opened his eyes and stood up quickly, his blanket falling to the floor in an unruly mess. The witch was coming down the stairs.
“No need.” she said. “I can see myself out. My work is done.” She passed the soldier by and her foggy old eye caught on Elwin, as he stood directly across from the stairs. “Ah, you. You're his man.”
Elwin felt heat rise in his cheeks.
“His servant?” She clarified. An obnoxiously knowing look on her wrinkled face.
El hated that about old people. He shrugged. “Yes? Sure.”
“The prince will sleep for three days.” The witch said.
“Is he alright?” Elwin asked. He didn't know what he could do about it if he wasn't alright. But this old woman was clearly up to no good. He sensed nothing altruistic about her. So what did she want?
“Better then he has ever been.” She said smoothly. Of course what else would she say, as the supposed miracle worker involved here. “I am off to collect my pay from the king and be on my way. Other matters demand my attention. I'll be depending on you to take it from here.” She gave Elwin a pointed look.
Maybe that's all it was, greed. Surely the money that the king was paying her was a handsome sum indeed. “I will, of course.” Elwin said. He gave her a look, while trying to take in all the details of her appearance, in case he needed this information later. His look said, you know I know, and I know you know I know, that you are no magical healer, and that such a thing doesn't even exist.
She smirked at him. “When he wakes up in three days. He will be hungry.”
*
Part of him wanted to follow the old woman, although he couldn't say why exactly or what he thought it would accomplish. Even more than that, he had to check on Prin. And those were the instincts that won out.
As soon as she was around the corner and out of sight, Elwin ran up the stairs as he had done so many times before. Practically flying.
The atmosphere at the top of the tower felt off, eerie almost. But he realized that may be just in his head because he didn't know what to expect. After all, it was always quiet and lonely up here.
If he felt that way about it, how must Prin feel? Elwin considered moving in to one of the extra rooms, he wasn't sure if he was technically allowed but doubted if anyone would try to stop him. If he lived up there too, maybe nothing like this could happen again. Who was he kidding? What power did he have to stop the prince's royal parents from doing whatever they pleased with their son?
Elwin felt defeated already as he turned the knob and pushed open the heavy familiar door.
Nothing looked amiss in the bedroom, the shelves were orderly, there was the wheeled bench that Prin used to scooch himself over to the shelves, where his favorite books were nestled onto the lower levels to be within easy reach. There was the desk with paper, quill pens and bottles of ink, including the funny inkwell shaped like a frog. The tapestries on the walls hung straight, with no breeze currently to stir the tassels on the bottom edges. The prince's window ledge nest looked abandoned, the small pillows and fur throw seeming for decorative purposes only. Since they had put away their childhood toys, a year or two ago (Elwin couldn't remember) the room looked more grown up but also less friendly. What had possessed them to think that the dolls and animals and wind up musical bear that dances in a circle with a bee perched on its nose, were no good anymore?
Prin was in his big bed, looking tiny in the center of it, with the blankets tucked around him and smoothed out. El didn't know why he expected to find his friend already dead. No, he didn't expect that! But why did it feel like he was already mourning him?
As he walked toward the bed, something he had barely noticed started to register. Over top of the library smell that was usual, was something different a bitter herbal smell, almost like one of his father's cooking experiments, but he wasn't sure what the plant was he was smelling, and something metallic. Like ink? No, El had helped with the butchering enough in the kitchens to know what that smell was when he smelled it. Certainly not ink.
The prince was perfectly still with the covers pulled up to his chin. His black hair was matted with sweat and his skin was pale and clammy. His eyes were closed. There was a smear of red beside his mouth.
El was frozen until he saw the rise and fall of the blanket. He was breathing.
Elwin could have wept with relief. He hurriedly sat down beside him and put his hand on the blanket over the area that slowly rose and fell steady and even like clockwork.
“Prin?” He said, barely above a whisper. He pressed down, gently nudging his friend. “Prin, it's me. She's gone. I don't believe she'll be coming back, It's okay to wake up now.”
Elwin paid no mind to what the witch had said about the three days of sleep, believing as he did that most adults, especially those in positions of power, were basically full of shit.
But still, there was a possibility, he tried to remind himself, that he should be letting the prince sleep.
Letting or no, Prin did not stir. The crescent moons of his dark eyelashes did not move from their spots of rest on the tops of his pale cheeks. They looked like millipedes. Elwin almost laughed, the prince would not appreciate that comparison, he thought. Or maybe he would. El was almost giddy with the mix of relief and worry that was confusing his heart.
Elwin rolled back the blanket, revealing Prin's naked but unbruised or broken skin. He continued unveiling him, the feeling of relief growing more comfortable as he continued to see no discernable injuries. When he got to Prin's hands there were some smears of red, but he couldn't see any cuts to associate the blood with.
“You're alright. Aren't you?” El asked. “I'll be right back.”
El covered him back up and went downstairs to fetch warm water, soap and rags as well as some cold water for drinking. It was a pain to slowly traverse the stairway with his hands full and not spill everything. He could understand why the serving staff did not particularly want to come up there.
When he returned he pulled the covers down again and washed his friend. “Are you sure you can't wake up now?” he asked.
Prin was pliant as a rag doll. Occasionally his eyes flicked back and forth beneath their lids.
Elwin continued talking to him, keeping his voice even and low. Soothing he hoped. “It just seemed like this was the right thing to do.” He said. “And I had to do something, do you know what I mean? Do you ever feel like that? Like if you don't do something, anything at all to help, you will just scream?” He washed the red from the prince's hands, still seeing no scrapes or cuts. “What have you been into? Will you tell me? When you wake up, can you tell me what that old witch did to you?” He squeezed his hand tightly in his own. “I imagine you have been well and thoroughly drugged. . .”
El swept the rest of the covers down out of the way. “I know you can't answer me. Don't worry. Just dream sweetly until it all wears off.”
Something was different about the prince's legs. Of course, El should notice it, he had seen them a million times. He stood up abruptly and went to the foot of the bed. He touched the bottom of each of Prin's feet. Weren't they even with each other? The same length, and straight. Perfect. They seemed perfect.
Elwin's heart began to beat hard in his chest. What had the old woman done? Had she done something which was impossible? He touched Prin's legs, gingerly at first, then with harder fingers, feeling the bone beneath the pale flesh. Strong and solid. “I am sorry. Sorry for this, this, what do you call it, impertinence.” El laughed. He put his head in his hand. Had he underestimated her entirely?
“No, never mind it for right now.” El said. He went to the chest at the foot of Prin's bed and pulled out a soft white night shirt. “You will not believe this when you wake up. I can't believe it myself.” He continued talking to his unconscious friend as he dressed him and tucked him back into bed. “Maybe I'm drugged as well.” He waved his hand in the air. “And none of this is real at all.”
He got a glass of cold water and pressed it to the prince's lips, tilting his head up and pouring a little water in his mouth as he had done for him in the past when he was really sick.
Prin reflexively swallowed the water.
“Good, that's good enough.” Elwin said, encouraged. He lay down beside his prince and put his head on the same pillow. After the bad night of sleep he had, it was easy to sleep the day away and part of the night.
In the night, Elwin paced and read books by candlelight. Some better parts he read aloud to the sleeping prince.
The next day, he was biting his fingernails to the quick.
He spoke to everyone he could think of about the predicament, but they all looked at him like he was crazy. Has it been three days? No? Then what are you worried about. Let the healing run its course. He even tried to gain audience with the king and queen but they would not allow him in.
On the third day Elwin was beside himself. There had been no change in the prince. He still seemed to be sleeping deeply with no movement. Even this was out of the ordinary as a person asleep will generally toss and turn or at least change position. What if the old woman had healed him but cursed him to a forever sleep? No one said he had to be better, but also awake.
He tried harsh smelling medicine that was used to bring people out of faints, but Prin did not even wrinkle his nose in his sleep. El even pricked his finger with a sewing needle, but on seeing the bright drop of blood was so regretful he almost cried. He kissed the finger until it stopped bleeding and apologized profusely. Was he losing his mind?
Dolce came and tried to lure El into leaving Prin alone and doing something to distract himself. She brought him strong liquor to drink.
Elwin tossed his sister back out the door but kept the liquor. A goblet full of that and he was too tired to stand vigil anymore. He fell into a fitful sleep by Prin's unmoving side.
The next morning, the fourth since the prince had been asleep. Elwin woke up with a headache from too much drink. He took some quick swallows of water to try and drive it back.
“That liquor was a bad idea.” He told the prince. “Well today is supposed to be the day. What do you want when you wake up? That almond cake with sugared flowers on top, you like that. Or chocolate pastries? Do you want some new books? I'll take you to town myself to pick them out. You can ride piggy back. I don't care what anyone thinks anymore, I truly don't.” Elwin sat down beside him, and brushed the curls away from his forehead, at this point not expecting any response. “They shouldn't keep you in here like this. Forget about me moving up here, you can move in with me in the cottage. Mother and father are never even home, they would barely know you were there. You would like it I think, the neighbor has a baby girl whose laughter fills the whole courtyard. Dolce might tease you a little, like she does me, but she means well mostly.” Elwin felt tears prickle his eyes. He could almost forget that he was not talking to a regular young man like himself, but to a prince, whose life was not his own to do with as he pleased. If he even had a life left in him.
El rested his ear against Prin's chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. “I know you're still alive but are you still in there? Are you still mine?” His cheeks burned at the question he himself had asked. What did he even mean by that? He was quiet for a long while. Despair creeping over him like a blanket meant to smother.
He lifted his head from the heartbeat that was no longer comforting and watched the prince's still face. He looked carved in wax.
“Do you want to talk about dragons?” Elwin asked, barely able to drag his voice above a whisper.
Prin's eyelid's twitched, and the curtains began to rise up over the brilliant blue sky of his eyes. “Where did we leave off?” he wondered.
Elwin had tried everything he could think of to get into the prince's tower. He sneaked, he bribed, he created distractions, he was a one man jester show. All to no avail, the guard at the foot of the stairs would not budge, being under strict orders from the king not to let anyone, but Elwin in particular out of all the anyones in the castle, disturb the healers work.
El camped near the foot of the stairs, making idle small talk with the tall and physically imposing guard. He was amiable enough to it, but both of them knew that Elwin was just biding his time and watching for a sign of weakness.
In the middle of the night as he sat in a chair with a blanket around him, the thought occurred to grapple up the side of the building. There was a window in the old nanny's room that he thought would be big enough for him to get through, and no bars covering it. Still it was many many stories tall . . . . He bet his sister could do it. It's just the kind of thing Dolce would do. Just for fun.
Somehow as he was trying to figure out the logistics of this with his sleepiness addled brain, Elwin managed to fall into a fitful sleep.
He was woken by voices.
“Let me help you ma'am.” The guard was saying.
Elwin opened his eyes and stood up quickly, his blanket falling to the floor in an unruly mess. The witch was coming down the stairs.
“No need.” she said. “I can see myself out. My work is done.” She passed the soldier by and her foggy old eye caught on Elwin, as he stood directly across from the stairs. “Ah, you. You're his man.”
Elwin felt heat rise in his cheeks.
“His servant?” She clarified. An obnoxiously knowing look on her wrinkled face.
El hated that about old people. He shrugged. “Yes? Sure.”
“The prince will sleep for three days.” The witch said.
“Is he alright?” Elwin asked. He didn't know what he could do about it if he wasn't alright. But this old woman was clearly up to no good. He sensed nothing altruistic about her. So what did she want?
“Better then he has ever been.” She said smoothly. Of course what else would she say, as the supposed miracle worker involved here. “I am off to collect my pay from the king and be on my way. Other matters demand my attention. I'll be depending on you to take it from here.” She gave Elwin a pointed look.
Maybe that's all it was, greed. Surely the money that the king was paying her was a handsome sum indeed. “I will, of course.” Elwin said. He gave her a look, while trying to take in all the details of her appearance, in case he needed this information later. His look said, you know I know, and I know you know I know, that you are no magical healer, and that such a thing doesn't even exist.
She smirked at him. “When he wakes up in three days. He will be hungry.”
*
Part of him wanted to follow the old woman, although he couldn't say why exactly or what he thought it would accomplish. Even more than that, he had to check on Prin. And those were the instincts that won out.
As soon as she was around the corner and out of sight, Elwin ran up the stairs as he had done so many times before. Practically flying.
The atmosphere at the top of the tower felt off, eerie almost. But he realized that may be just in his head because he didn't know what to expect. After all, it was always quiet and lonely up here.
If he felt that way about it, how must Prin feel? Elwin considered moving in to one of the extra rooms, he wasn't sure if he was technically allowed but doubted if anyone would try to stop him. If he lived up there too, maybe nothing like this could happen again. Who was he kidding? What power did he have to stop the prince's royal parents from doing whatever they pleased with their son?
Elwin felt defeated already as he turned the knob and pushed open the heavy familiar door.
Nothing looked amiss in the bedroom, the shelves were orderly, there was the wheeled bench that Prin used to scooch himself over to the shelves, where his favorite books were nestled onto the lower levels to be within easy reach. There was the desk with paper, quill pens and bottles of ink, including the funny inkwell shaped like a frog. The tapestries on the walls hung straight, with no breeze currently to stir the tassels on the bottom edges. The prince's window ledge nest looked abandoned, the small pillows and fur throw seeming for decorative purposes only. Since they had put away their childhood toys, a year or two ago (Elwin couldn't remember) the room looked more grown up but also less friendly. What had possessed them to think that the dolls and animals and wind up musical bear that dances in a circle with a bee perched on its nose, were no good anymore?
Prin was in his big bed, looking tiny in the center of it, with the blankets tucked around him and smoothed out. El didn't know why he expected to find his friend already dead. No, he didn't expect that! But why did it feel like he was already mourning him?
As he walked toward the bed, something he had barely noticed started to register. Over top of the library smell that was usual, was something different a bitter herbal smell, almost like one of his father's cooking experiments, but he wasn't sure what the plant was he was smelling, and something metallic. Like ink? No, El had helped with the butchering enough in the kitchens to know what that smell was when he smelled it. Certainly not ink.
The prince was perfectly still with the covers pulled up to his chin. His black hair was matted with sweat and his skin was pale and clammy. His eyes were closed. There was a smear of red beside his mouth.
El was frozen until he saw the rise and fall of the blanket. He was breathing.
Elwin could have wept with relief. He hurriedly sat down beside him and put his hand on the blanket over the area that slowly rose and fell steady and even like clockwork.
“Prin?” He said, barely above a whisper. He pressed down, gently nudging his friend. “Prin, it's me. She's gone. I don't believe she'll be coming back, It's okay to wake up now.”
Elwin paid no mind to what the witch had said about the three days of sleep, believing as he did that most adults, especially those in positions of power, were basically full of shit.
But still, there was a possibility, he tried to remind himself, that he should be letting the prince sleep.
Letting or no, Prin did not stir. The crescent moons of his dark eyelashes did not move from their spots of rest on the tops of his pale cheeks. They looked like millipedes. Elwin almost laughed, the prince would not appreciate that comparison, he thought. Or maybe he would. El was almost giddy with the mix of relief and worry that was confusing his heart.
Elwin rolled back the blanket, revealing Prin's naked but unbruised or broken skin. He continued unveiling him, the feeling of relief growing more comfortable as he continued to see no discernable injuries. When he got to Prin's hands there were some smears of red, but he couldn't see any cuts to associate the blood with.
“You're alright. Aren't you?” El asked. “I'll be right back.”
El covered him back up and went downstairs to fetch warm water, soap and rags as well as some cold water for drinking. It was a pain to slowly traverse the stairway with his hands full and not spill everything. He could understand why the serving staff did not particularly want to come up there.
When he returned he pulled the covers down again and washed his friend. “Are you sure you can't wake up now?” he asked.
Prin was pliant as a rag doll. Occasionally his eyes flicked back and forth beneath their lids.
Elwin continued talking to him, keeping his voice even and low. Soothing he hoped. “It just seemed like this was the right thing to do.” He said. “And I had to do something, do you know what I mean? Do you ever feel like that? Like if you don't do something, anything at all to help, you will just scream?” He washed the red from the prince's hands, still seeing no scrapes or cuts. “What have you been into? Will you tell me? When you wake up, can you tell me what that old witch did to you?” He squeezed his hand tightly in his own. “I imagine you have been well and thoroughly drugged. . .”
El swept the rest of the covers down out of the way. “I know you can't answer me. Don't worry. Just dream sweetly until it all wears off.”
Something was different about the prince's legs. Of course, El should notice it, he had seen them a million times. He stood up abruptly and went to the foot of the bed. He touched the bottom of each of Prin's feet. Weren't they even with each other? The same length, and straight. Perfect. They seemed perfect.
Elwin's heart began to beat hard in his chest. What had the old woman done? Had she done something which was impossible? He touched Prin's legs, gingerly at first, then with harder fingers, feeling the bone beneath the pale flesh. Strong and solid. “I am sorry. Sorry for this, this, what do you call it, impertinence.” El laughed. He put his head in his hand. Had he underestimated her entirely?
“No, never mind it for right now.” El said. He went to the chest at the foot of Prin's bed and pulled out a soft white night shirt. “You will not believe this when you wake up. I can't believe it myself.” He continued talking to his unconscious friend as he dressed him and tucked him back into bed. “Maybe I'm drugged as well.” He waved his hand in the air. “And none of this is real at all.”
He got a glass of cold water and pressed it to the prince's lips, tilting his head up and pouring a little water in his mouth as he had done for him in the past when he was really sick.
Prin reflexively swallowed the water.
“Good, that's good enough.” Elwin said, encouraged. He lay down beside his prince and put his head on the same pillow. After the bad night of sleep he had, it was easy to sleep the day away and part of the night.
In the night, Elwin paced and read books by candlelight. Some better parts he read aloud to the sleeping prince.
The next day, he was biting his fingernails to the quick.
He spoke to everyone he could think of about the predicament, but they all looked at him like he was crazy. Has it been three days? No? Then what are you worried about. Let the healing run its course. He even tried to gain audience with the king and queen but they would not allow him in.
On the third day Elwin was beside himself. There had been no change in the prince. He still seemed to be sleeping deeply with no movement. Even this was out of the ordinary as a person asleep will generally toss and turn or at least change position. What if the old woman had healed him but cursed him to a forever sleep? No one said he had to be better, but also awake.
He tried harsh smelling medicine that was used to bring people out of faints, but Prin did not even wrinkle his nose in his sleep. El even pricked his finger with a sewing needle, but on seeing the bright drop of blood was so regretful he almost cried. He kissed the finger until it stopped bleeding and apologized profusely. Was he losing his mind?
Dolce came and tried to lure El into leaving Prin alone and doing something to distract himself. She brought him strong liquor to drink.
Elwin tossed his sister back out the door but kept the liquor. A goblet full of that and he was too tired to stand vigil anymore. He fell into a fitful sleep by Prin's unmoving side.
The next morning, the fourth since the prince had been asleep. Elwin woke up with a headache from too much drink. He took some quick swallows of water to try and drive it back.
“That liquor was a bad idea.” He told the prince. “Well today is supposed to be the day. What do you want when you wake up? That almond cake with sugared flowers on top, you like that. Or chocolate pastries? Do you want some new books? I'll take you to town myself to pick them out. You can ride piggy back. I don't care what anyone thinks anymore, I truly don't.” Elwin sat down beside him, and brushed the curls away from his forehead, at this point not expecting any response. “They shouldn't keep you in here like this. Forget about me moving up here, you can move in with me in the cottage. Mother and father are never even home, they would barely know you were there. You would like it I think, the neighbor has a baby girl whose laughter fills the whole courtyard. Dolce might tease you a little, like she does me, but she means well mostly.” Elwin felt tears prickle his eyes. He could almost forget that he was not talking to a regular young man like himself, but to a prince, whose life was not his own to do with as he pleased. If he even had a life left in him.
El rested his ear against Prin's chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. “I know you're still alive but are you still in there? Are you still mine?” His cheeks burned at the question he himself had asked. What did he even mean by that? He was quiet for a long while. Despair creeping over him like a blanket meant to smother.
He lifted his head from the heartbeat that was no longer comforting and watched the prince's still face. He looked carved in wax.
“Do you want to talk about dragons?” Elwin asked, barely able to drag his voice above a whisper.
Prin's eyelid's twitched, and the curtains began to rise up over the brilliant blue sky of his eyes. “Where did we leave off?” he wondered.
