Those Green Eyes [Closed]

[St George]

OOC: this is mainly the story of two men meeting, falling in love, and changing their lives. It contains LGBTQ elements. If you prefer not to read about LGBTQ subjects, firstly, close the page and secondly, grow up. I may ask some of you at some point to make a specific news style post. If you're willing to contribute, DM me on discord.

Crown Prince Kristoph Oyvindsson of Gotmark grinned to himself as he applied some more eye-liner, singing along quietly with the song on his phone as he did. “I brought a new pair of shoes / I got a new attitude when I walk / ‘Cause I’m so over you / And it’s all about tonight.”

He spun around in his chair and picked up the gold mask he was going to wear to this party, waving it in the direction of his cousin, the Graf of Ost, Cilje. Cilje had caused a brief controversy when she revealed she was in a lesbian relationship. Cilje and her partner had since split and she was attending Gotmark’s Pride celebrations single this year.

“I'm going out with the girls / Ready to show all the boys what I got / I'm letting go of the hurt / 'Cause it's all about tonight” Kristoph continued singing as he picked out an outfit. He had hidden away his most flamboyant clothes at Cilje’s apartments in the capital, away from the prying eyes of court gossips and staff.

Cilje laughed at her cousin as he danced half-dressed, trying to hurry him up. “Why are you even taking so long? If I know you, and I do know you, Krissy, that top will end up off before midnight.”

Kristoph shrugged, ignoring the childhood nickname. “Gotta look good. Besides, I’ve seen your ‘gram, you’ve no room to talk.” Kristoph ducked the thrown cushion then froze as there was a knock at the door. He answered, then stepped back as his younger brother entered the room.

Prince William Oyvindsson and his elder brother stared at each other for a long moment, before Cilje interrupted. “Billy! What are you doing here?” Her eyes narrowed. “Anyone with you?” The young Prince shook his head.

“Just me. I’m still private enough to travel alone in this city. Although I do get mistaken for Harris sometimes.” He admitted, not taking his eyes off his brother. “For you as well, although I’m not sure anyone would right at this moment.”

William was speaking softly, both brothers aware of the tension of the moment and what it meant. He crossed the room and hugged his brother without waiting for him to reply. They shared a long moment like that.

“Too soon for an incest joke?” Both brothers laughed as they realised Cilje was still in the room and broke apart, Kristoph shaking his head.

“You’re too much, honestly.” He looked at his brother, hopeful. “Got any plans tonight? You could hit up Pride with us.”

William shook his head. “Not really my scene, no offense. Besides, Akihiro is on.”

Kristoph blinked as the famous drag queen was mentioned. “I had no idea you were a fan, Billy.”

Billy shrugged. “We both have secrets. I started watching after Akihiro did an episode on drag queen impersonators of royals. Yours was spot on.”

Cilje’s interest was piqued at the idea of her cousin in drag and came over as Billy pulled out his phone and showed the two a short video from the show. In it, an exaggerated impersonator of Kristoph in a dress paraded around a stage. Cilje laughed as she saw her elder cousin’s embarrassment.

“I think I have a dress like that…” She started.

“No. Not a chance. We’re late enough already.”

Cilje shrugged and simply said. “That wasn’t a no on doing it if we had more time.”

Kristoph huffed as his relatives laughed and grabbed his mask. “Are you ready?” He asked Cilje.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Drag Prince. Let’s paint the town rainbow!”

 

[St George]

Der Idengate was one of the oldest neighbourhoods in Lerum, though recent redevelopment had opened up the previously narrow street in places, creating a wide open space around which cafes and clubs clustered. The area had long been Gotmark’s most prominent gay village, and during pride, it came alive with even more colour and vibrance than normal.

Kristoph, mask over his face, and Cilje walked down the street with some of Cilje’s friends, trusted enough to not reveal Kristoph’s identity. Stefi, freshly transitioned and out celebrating, turned heads their way, even in the… flamboyant company they found themselves. Sporting a purple half pompadour, half mohawk hair style and dressed in bright green, Kristoph couldn’t help but laugh as she high-fived two older partiers.

Himmel wasn’t a particularly popular club but for two days a year it became the place to be as the lgbt youth of Gotmark and around Eras rubbed shoulders - and more - with some of the most famous of their contemporaries, and on the second night - Hølvete - Himmel played host to the wildest night out in all of Gothis. Kristoph had never been before and was super hyped.

Cijle was known to the bouncers at Himmel, and they got to skip the line - and avoided getting ID’d. One of the bouncers, an older man, gave Kristoph an appraising gaze and winked when the Prince caught his eye. Blushing under the make-up, he hurried after Cijle. Drink would make him more outgoing, and he went with Stefi to get the first round in - double vodka and taurine power - the third best energy drink on Eras, Stefi announced, grinning. They downed the two complementary shots they got given with their order, and took the booze back to the booth Cijle had grabbed for them.

The club was jumping and Kristoph soon found himself coaxed out onto the floor by Cijle and Stefi - after another round of drinks - and the three of them danced most of the night. Alcohol flowed and the DJ ran through the usual pride hits - an eclectic mix of EDM, dance, disco, rock and pop, but all designed to get the blood pumping and hearts jumping.

And in the noise of the night, the heat of the club, the comfort provided by being with his friends, the people who truly knew him - Kristoph, Kris, - as him and not his title, it was easy to get carried away in the moment, before time seemed to paused.

It’s a cliche. The worst cliche. The most horrific cliche in the lowest quality love story possible. And yet here was Kristoph, the Crown Prince of Gotmark, secretly attending the biggest gay party of the year, finding himself transfixed by the eyes that met him across the room.

Six feet tall, muscled abs that dove into well defined hips (thank you Himmel’s atmosphere encouraging egregious shows of human flesh), the silver and gold outfit he was wearing was topped off with a wave of hair that fell down to his shoulders. Blazing green eyes stared back at Kristoph, doing a similar appraisal, drawing a blush from Kristoph when he realised.

And the green eyed god wasn’t the only one who had noticed Kristoph staring. Even in that moment where time seemingly stopped and they were the only two in Kristoph’s world, Stefi had seen the exchange and immediately began to drag Kristoph onto the dance floor, away from the bar, and closer into this secret, shared world.

More dancing, another round of shots, and Kristoph finds himself alone as Stefi dances off with Cijle, keeping her distracted before she interjects herself into this moment, before anyone interjects themselves into this, most important of moments.

Kristoph was about to leave the floor, but a hand catches his, pulls him back around and his breath hitches as he came face to face to this stranger with the blazing green eyes. No words are exchanged and even if they were you wouldn’t be able to hear them. Just the two of them, chest to chest, hip to hip, as the DJ started up another song.

They danced for several songs, but Kristoph didn’t hear them. Didn’t see his friends or feel the effects of the drinks or much of anything. He was entirely wrapped up in the arms of this person, this stranger, their movements, their sweat intermingling as somehow, impossibly, got even closer.

Another song, more intimate, slower, and their closeness remained. No time for breath, no time for thought, just the two of them. No words were spoken. Yet Kristoph knew he wanted to spend hours and hours with this person.

After what seemed like hours, but was barely minutes, the song ended, the DJ taking a break, turning the music down and putting on a generic song.

And Kristroph tensed, like a held breath, a frozen droplet, a leaf just before it falls from the tree.

And then Kristoph looked up, and the stranger was gone.

And then Kristoph panicked.

What was he doing?

Why was he here?

What if someone found out?

What if someone knew?

What if he knew?

Suddenly convinced that his secret was out, he tore out of the room, taking off down a corridor and leaving via a secondary exit. Breathing heavily, he leant against the wall, pulling his mask off, eyes closed but heavy with tears.

What was he doing here?

“What are you doing here?”

Kristoph looked up. Flash. Picture. He starts to realise where he is, what’s going on. Flash. Another picture. Tries to stand up, cover his face. Flash. The drink hits him. Picture. The moment hits him. Flash. He staggers back, turns away. Picture.

A noise. Footsteps. A voice. Deep, growling, protective. No more flashes, no more pictures. Footsteps receding. Kristoph, shivering, not entirely due to the cold air, looked up.

And then those blazing green eyes ask a question, “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

 

[St George]

Kristoph wakes up to the mother of all headaches. Worse than that time he snuck out as a 15 year old and ended up in a bar with a bunch of Prydanian sailors. Worse than the infamous “Night of the Three Princes”, the first time he and his brothers all went out together.

Kristoph also doesn’t know where he is. He looked around the unfamiliar room as he tried to get his bearings, to work out why he wasn’t in his cousins apartment - or the hotel room he had booked.

Standing up, he realises he also wasn’t in his clothes. He was wearing a pair of underwear that wasn’t his as well as an oversized t-shirt in a language he was too hungover to understand.

Kristoph threw up his hands and gave up trying to remember what happened the night before and spoke out loud.

“Where the fuck am I?”

He may have spoken a bit too loudly as the door swung open quickly and the next thing Kristoph knew he was falling over backwards, his headache made even worse as the door hit him square in the forehead.

For the second time in a day, Kristoph’s hand was caught by another, grasping him firmly and keeping him upright. Kristoph looked up and found himself staring into some blazing green eyes.

A long moment passed before the dazed prince ruined everything by asking a question.

“Did we fuck?”

Those damn green eyes flickered in shock, before the hand keeping him upright let go and Kristoph fell backwards onto the bed, laughter ringing in his ears.

“No,” An accented voice said. Realisation triggered in Kristoph’s mind. Alnarian? Northern Alnaria? A member of Kristoph’s rowing team had been Alnarian. He was brought back into the room by an impatient, repeated, question.

“Do you need anything, some water?”

Kristoph laboured his way to his feet. “Some water would be nice. And uh… where are my clothes”

Kristoph could’ve sworn he saw those eyes roll as they turned away. “Follow me.”

Obeying the command Kristoph looked around as he was led to the kitchen. A small, if adequately sized apartment, typical of the type creatives lived in in Lerum. A very nice view of the old city greeted Kristoph as his host opened the shutters, just before the light of the morning temporarily blinded him.

“Urgh.”

A chuckle turned Kristoph around and he glared. “My pain isn’t funny.”

A small smile. “It’s a little funny. Drink up.” He tossed a bottle of water from his fridge to Kristoph, who fumbled his first attempt to catch it, succeeding after a wild, flailing follow-up. “As for your clothes, after you threw up over them, and me, and my carpet, I decided they probably needed washing. You didn’t make that easy.”

Kristoph flushed, sitting down at the kitchen table. “I’m sorry for any issues I’ve caused you.”

The green eyes shrugged. “It was funny after a while, and you’re cute, so you’re forgiven.” The flush turned to a blush at this. The green eyes walked around the table and extended a hand.

“Luis. We didn’t really have time to introduce ourselves last night.”

Kristoph shook the hand, suddenly awkward. “Kris. I remember dancing and drinking and not much else.”

Luis sat down facing Kristoph, one knee touching his. “You seemed pretty upset about something towards the end of the night. One minute I left to grab us some drinks and the next you had run off. Took me a while to find you.”

Kristoph didn’t know what to say. Memories of the night had come flooding back as Luis spoke. He was saved by a rapid, annoyed knocking at the front door to the apartment, followed by a voice Kristoph knew well.

“I don’t know who you are but open this door immediately before I knock it down!”

“Aw crap.”

Luis raised an eyebrow at Kristoph as the knocking continued. Kristoph sighed.

“Better open it, before she actually does.”

Luis shrugged and walked over to the door, as Kristoph stole a look at him from behind. He was dressed casually, comfortably. He looked good. Kristoph wondered what he looked like without the clothes. These thoughts were, however, interrupted by the arrival of a very concerned and very annoyed looking royal cousin.

“Hello Cilje.”

“Hello?” Was the strained reply. “Hello? HELLO?!” She was almost shouting, high pitched also. “Is that all you have to say? We looked for you everywhere!”

Kristoph winced, then realised he didn’t have his phone. “How did you find him?” Luis asked.

Cilje shot a withering glance at Luis. “I traced the phone that’s no longer working. What happened there?”

“He dropped it, and it broke.”

“That’s convenient. For you. Do you know what the penalty for kidnapping a member of the Gotmark royal family is?”

Luis went pale and turned to Kristoph. “Kris, who the fuck are you?”

The Crown Prince of Gotmark sighed. “I probably should’ve said this earlier. I’m Kristoph Oyvindsson, the next Grand Duke of Gotmark.”

 

[St George]

The swearing was constant and multilingual. Kristoph counted Gojan, Nûrlinen, Skandan and at least two languages Kristoph didn’t know - maybe something in Maru? Luis’s tirade went on for a few minutes before Cijle interrupted.

“So you didn’t kidnap Kris?”

Luis stopped for a moment, green eyes fixed on Cijle. “No, I didn’t kidnap his majesty.”

“Highness.” The correction came automatically to Cijle and she looked away, embarrassed.

Luis snorted. “Sorry, his Highness.” He said, bowing sarcastically. “Had I known his absence would be construed as a kidnapping I’d have left a trail of breadcrumbs, or grown my hair long and taken him to a tower, or stopped at a goddamn gumdrop house.”

Kris bit his lip to keep from laughing, looking out the window of Luis apartment. It was… comfortable. He liked it. It suited Luis. He imagined Luis sitting in one of the chairs, reading or watching something, or standing on the small balcony and watching the sunset.

Kristoph realised he wasn’t following the conversation, and brought himself back into the room. Both Cilje and Luis were looking at him. “What?”

“You looked a million miles away Kris.” Cilje remarked, concern on her face. “What were you thinking about?”

Kristoph replied without thinking. “Spending more time here.” He coughed to cover up what he said, then took another drink of water. Kristoph could feel Luis staring at him again as his face reddened.

A new knock at the door brought a welcome reprieve from the scrutiny, though it was Cilje who went to the door to see who it was. She paused at the peephole, then cursed loudly.

“Cilje Ingadottir, open this door immediately.” A terse, stressed voice demanded.

Luis looked over at the Graf of Ost. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Cilje cursed again, and asked the voice to wait a minute, before coming back over to the pair. “That is Commander Máijá, the head of Kris’s security detail. She’s unhappy.”

Luis and Kristoph swore at about the same time. It would’ve been funny if a former Geldkrieger commando wasn’t at the door. Cilje made a decision. “I’ll keep her busy for a bit. Say you’re sleeping. Separately.”

“Thanks Cilje. Sorry for the trouble.” Kristoph said sheepishly.

“Yeah, yeah. You know you’ve got decisions to make now, right?” Another knock at the door cut off any reply. Cilje tutted and walked away. “Also put some clothes on, cousin. You might turn me.”

Kristoph blushed as Luis laughed, and he looked around for his clothes, then remembered they were kinda ruined. And not really appropriate for meeting with his staff. Luis came to the rescue, letting him borrow a pair of old sweatpants. Kristoph was now entirely dressed in his clothes.

“Hmm.” Luis said, as they walked to the bedroom door. “You do look good.”

Blushing again, Kristoph’s mood was interrupted by the barely controlled questioning the Commander gave him.

“Your Highness, are you all right? Is there any thing I can do? Are you harmed in any way?”

Kristoph sought to reassure her. “I’m perfectly fine, Máijá. Unharmed, just a little alcohol induced headache.” He paused. “And some memory loss. But that’s fine.”

“I will have to disagree with you there.” Máijá was very tense, and seemed to be holding back information. The Prince narrowed his eyes.

“What is it?”

Reluctantly, Máijá returned the gaze. “Permission to speak freely?”

Kristoph replied, “I’ve always said you could.”

“How could you be so careless? Do you have any idea what’s going to happen now? How could you let this happen?”

The questions confused Kristoph - and he saw that Cilje and Luis were just as in the dark. His cousin took over. “What are you even talking about?” She asked.

“This.” Máijá pulled out her phone, and showed the screen to Kristoph. There, on the biggest daily newspapers in northern Eras’s website, the main story…

Crown Prince of Gotmark Spotted at GAY CLUB - Sweaty Shirtless Heir to Grand Dutchy IS GAY?!

Kristoph Oyvindsson, heir to the Grand Dutchy of Gotmark, was snapped by our paps as they braved the cold night to get into the biggest GAY PRIDE party of the summer, where young and old alike get involved in raunchy behaviour and debauchery.

But not even we imagined that the man we dubbed the Most Eligible Bachelor in Eras would be spotted shirtless in gold sequins, with glitter and sweat all over him. Our snapper tried to question the Prince before he was forced away when a member of his entourage intervened.

Kristoph pushed the phone away, which was grabbed by Cilje, who started reading. Luis looked over her shoulder and read the headline. “Drasl. What are we going to do?”

Cilje turned to Máijá. “Does he know?” She didn’t need to explain who ‘he’ was.

“Probably, he gets all the morning news.”

“Shit. Right, we need to get on top of us - and get Kris back to the capital immediately.” She turned to Luis. “Luis, sorry to impose, but you’re now involved in a royal scandal. We’ll need you to come with us.”

Luis stiffened. “One problem, Graf, is that your title?”

“Just Cijle is fine.”

“Ok, Cijle. One problem with that.”

“And that is?”

“You’ve lost the Prince again.”

Cilje and Máijá looked around - the front door to the apartment was open, and the Crown Prince of Gotmark was in the wind.

 

[St George]

Lerum wasn’t a busy city, Kristoph reflected, outside of its cultural centre. The gay village and historical districts both would be packed around this time of day, but here, out by the old docks, things were quiet.

After leaving - fleeing, he berated himself - Luis’s apartment, he had hidden out down here, in a small cafe. There were enough people that he might be recognised, but he kept to a corner and didn’t make eye contact with the waitress as she brought him a coffee.

There was a newspaper on the table next to him, and he picked it up to see if he had made this paper's front page. Nothing. He read through some more, mood rising as he saw he wasn’t on any of the pages. Kristoph finished the paper, just as the waitress turned up the volume on the small television on the wall.

“Still no comment from the palace on the pictures out of Lerum, and from what our sources tell us, the newly-outed Prince is nowhere to be found. More on this developing story after the break…”

Kristoph reached the door of the cafe as the story finished, walking out into the cold. Gotmark was a progressive, accepting place, he knew this. But at the same time, there was a difference between being a member of the public who was gay and the heir to the throne.

Heir to the throne, and gay. It was almost comical. The oldest son of the Grand Duke of Gotmark snorted in derision. This was always going to happen. At some point or another, he would’ve had to face up to his two conflicting realities.

He could give up the throne, give up royalty entirely. Go live outside the country, where he wouldn’t trouble the succession. Maybe he and Luis could go back to Alnaria. He mentally smacked himself at the idea. Yes of course the dude whose last name you don’t even know will take you away from your royal disaster back to his home country. Moron.

If he gave up the throne, he’d still be there, exiled, a potential lightning rod for dissent. If he didn’t remove himself from the succession, the conservative elements of the country would be up in arms about a gay grand duke.

Even the more moderate ones would raise questions about the succession after him. In their minds, hell in Kristoph’s mind, the role of the eldest son was simple. You are born, you grow into a good ruler, you get married, have children, secure the succession of your house and so on.

And Kristoph knew he couldn’t do that. Not now. He couldn’t lead a life that was a lie. His secret was out. No way of explaining this one away. No, it wasn’t a prank. No, he wasn’t ‘tired and emotional’. Well, he was tired and emotional, but not in that way, the old way that meant ‘was too drunk to know better’. Which he was, but not in that way.

Kristoph shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Ha. As if that was possible, currently. He stopped at the Torstig Docks. Torstig Simonsson was the tragic founder of Lerum, Kristoph recalled. He had done a study on him and other allegedly mythical figures in Gotmarker history, and his ultimate fate, taking his own life when left with no other option.

Kristoph stepped along the edge of the docks, looking out at the grey water, deep and imposing. He shivered. How easy would it be? He wondered. If Billy was here, he’d probably have the precise amount of time it took for the freezing water to take you. Harris would probably push him in as a prank. Enje would’ve already dragged him away by now, badgering him into taking her to Lerum’s shopping district.

A gust of wind could take him over, Kristoph noted. There was no barrier at the end of the docks to prevent anyone falling in, and Kristoph knew the docks were deep and with many hidden currents. A step off… and nothing.

Kristoph stood on the docks for a long time.

And then went to take a step.

 

[St George]

“Are you ok?”

Kristoph turned around, taking a step away from the dock edge. A woman in her twenties, with dyed black hair, was looking at him with concern on her face. She reminded Kristoph of Cijle’s teacher friends.

“Yeah, yeah I think so.”

Kristoph’s reply didn’t seem to convince her. “Are you sure? You were pretty close to the edge there.”

Kristoph didn’t reply, and looked back out at the waves. He felt her stand next to him.

“It’s not easy, you know? Actually doing it.” Kristoph didn’t have to ask what she meant. “Even at your lowest point, that moment where everything is at its bleakists. Where you’re so far down in the hole that you can’t even see the light of day, let alone a way to get out.”

Kristoph shifted uncomfortably as she continued. “You have to ask yourself a question. Are you done?” She turned Kristoph around to look at her, showing no recognition of him as they locked eyes. “Are you? Are you at the point where you have no fight left? None at all?”

Kristoph looked at her, then turned away from the dock. “Maybe I’m not. I don’t know. I feel pretty deep in the hole right now.”

The woman made a sympathetic noise. “There’s always a way out of the hole. Might not be obvious, but there’s always a way. Sometimes you just have to look for it.”

Kristoph wasn’t entirely convinced. “It’s easy to say that when you aren’t in the situation. Sometimes there isn’t a way out.”

“I thought so too, until I got a ticket out of Oclusia and a work visa here. Turns out teaching Gotmarker students is a lot better for your mental health - and job prospects - than teaching back home. Less trouble too.”

Kristoph didn’t press further, the woman wasn’t prying into his business and he wouldn’t pry into hers.

“I’m not sure I can just get on a plane and fly away from my problems.”

“But there’s always an option. Someone new in your life to give you hope. A goal to aim for. Some motivation. It’s hard. It’ll always be hard. One day it might stop being hard.” She placed a hand on Kristoph’s arm.

“You owe it to yourself to try.”

“Duty.” Kristoph almost spat the word, before softening. “I guess I do. What do I do next?” He wondered aloud.

“Start the climb.” Came the reply, before the woman started walking away. Kristoph started to set off after her but decided against it. He looked back towards the waves one more time, before setting off in the opposite direction

Kristoph realised pretty quickly that he didn’t actually know where he was going. He was lost, in Lerum, for the second time today. Sighing, the Prince leant against a wall, yawning. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the car that stopped nearby, or the person who stepped out.

His eyes closed, Kristoph became aware of someone stood in front of him. A soft clearing of the front, Kristoph decided he didn’t want to speak to whoever it was. A more impatient sounding noise followed. Again, Kristoph didn’t feel like opening his eyes. He heard a second set of footsteps.

SLAP

Kristoph opened his eyes, shocked that someone would ever hit him. He held a hand to his cheek as he saw his cousin Cijle stood in front of him, furious. And behind her, amusement lightening his face, was a pair of goddamn green eyes.

“Uh, ow.”

“Shut up.” Cijle grabbed his arm, dragging him along. “Get in the goddamn car.”

Kristoph let himself be manhandled into the car, sat in-between Cilje and Máijá, who looked scarcely more amused than Cijle did. Luis sat across from him, still amused. The car started moving at a certain amount of speed.

Kristoph felt awkward. “So uh… sorry for running out.”

“Oh we’ll get to that Kris. We’ll get to that.” Cijle was unhappy. “After we get out of this without Luis being deported, me being executed or you being disowned.”

“What’s going on?” Luis asked her.

Cijle fixed her cousin with a level stare.

“We’re going to see your boyfriend’s dad. The Grand Duke of Gotmark.”

 

[St George]

“I mean… we don’t have to go see the Grand Duke.”

It was Kristoph who said, but all three had been thinking that same thought. The car carried on through Lerum - it’d reach a private train station for royal and military traffic soon. Luis and Cijle both looked at him.

“Where would we go?” Cijle asked him.

“Your parents own a number of empty winter properties. I have my own residence near the northern border. We could even go to Alnaria on tour or something. I could claim I’m ill.”

“And when the Grand Duke summons us, as he will inevitably have to?”

“I don’t know, we leave now and we won’t have to worry about that for months probably.”

Cilje didn’t look convinced, and Luis was expressionless. The Alnarion sighed. “I really don’t want this conversation, whatever that’s going to look like. I barely know you, Kristoph. I’d like to know you better, but I’m not sure that can happen if we don’t meet with the Grand Duke.”

“It might not happen if we do,” Kristoph replied, a strained look on his face.

“That is a risk you two will have to take,” Cijle said. They looked at her. “Kris, your plan, it’s tempting. I’ve wanted to run away in the past too before my parents knew about me. It’s not worth the pain of hiding. Not anymore. I know there are political and dynastic concerns at play here, I do. But even with those weighing on his mind, your father is a good man.”

“Sometimes good men sacrifice the individual for the whole, Cijle.”

“You’re his son.”

“And he has a whole Duchy to think about, not just his eldest son.” Kristoph turned to Máijá. “Máijá, please organise to drop me off elsewhere. I won’t be going to this meeting.”

“Kristo-” Cijle and Luis both started to speak but he held his hand up.

“I am taking the decision out of my father’s hands. I will go the Trähus, that’s where he’ll end up confining me anyway. I will claim an illness that keeps me away from court for the next few months and unable to take visitors. You are welcome to join me or not. I will not be going to this meeting.” He turned again to Máijá. “Make the arrangements.”

“No.”

Kristoph raised an eyebrow.

“I apologise, Your Highness, but let me make one thing very clear. I am here to ensure your safety and wellbeing, that is my one and only priority. Up until this point, for the last 24 hours, I have not been doing my job. Partially my own fault but also yours.” Kristoph went to interrupt but Máijá cut him off and the Prince fell silent.

“I’m not done. With all due respect and taking into account our differing stations and three years I have been your primary, you’re full of shit Your Highness.” Máijá ignored the scandalised noise Cijle made.

“You are lying to yourself now just like you’ve lied to yourself for however long it is that you’ve known that you are who you are. You don’t want this conversation with the Grand Duke, that’s fine. But what you are asking of your cousin is too much. What you are asking of this stranger is too much.” She turned to Luis.

“Hello, I don’t know you but I feel like you’re sticking around. I’m going to probe your background, your history and your known associates. I do this to protect the Crown Prince. That’s my job. Don’t get in the way of my job or do anything that will make my job overly difficult and we’ll get along just fine.”

She turned back to Kristoph. “I can only do my job well, Highness, if you’re going to cooperate with me. And whilst I have orders from your father to take you to him, that only happens if it’s in the best interests of your safety and well-being, and we both agree that it is. You say the word, Prince, and we’ll go where it is you want to go.”

She locked eyes with Kristoph as the idea to speak came to him. “But I know you, Kristoph, and what you’re going to do is put on your big boy pants, shut up and enjoy the train ride we’re about to have to the Summer Palace.”

The car stopped. They’d arrived at the station, and a simmering tension had settled in the car. Cijle and Luis looked at Máijá. Máijá looked at Kristoph. And Kristoph?

The Crown Prince of Gotmark got out of the car and walked to the train, turning to bark impatiently at the others. “Are you coming, or not?”

The other trotted along in the wake of the Prince, who greeted the waiting train attendant with a nod, instructing them to use the private line only. They tried to argue the decision but fell silent after Máijá reminded them who they were speaking to. The private line would be slower but it wouldn’t interrupt normal train travel for Kristoph’s benefit.

Kristoph had Cijle show Luis around the royal train after boarding and the train began to pull out of the station. The three carriage train was wide enough to host a number of small offices/bedrooms and Kristoph asked Máijá to follow him into one. He shut the door and turned to his bodyguard.

“Do you wish to be relieved of your duties?”

Máijá was taken aback by the question. “No.”

“Good. You’re doing very well.”

Kristoph left, leaving the former soldier deep in thought as the train trundled out into the Gotmark countryside.

He ran into Luis and Cijle as they sat at a counter drinking juice. He made small talk with his cousin but his attention was very much on the tall, green-eyed Alnarion throughout. Finding an opening, he asked Cijle to get in touch with her parents, just to see if they could activate the Trähus's staff. Kristoph was sure they’d be sent to the currently empty residence and wanted it ready.

As his cousin left to set that up, he took Luis by his hand and pulled him into one of the side rooms, both keen to get to know one another as the journey continued...

 

[St George]

1993

“You know you’ll never be allowed to marry her, right?” Oyvind Kiansson looked up as his cousin walked into the room. The grandson of Oyvind’s namesake just like he was, Karl had a claim on the Grand Duchy but had long ago abandoned any such ambitions.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Oyvind replied.

Karl snorted derisively. “You’ve not been able to lie to me since we were 6, little cousin, don’t start trying now.” He sat down next to the Prince. “They won’t let you marry her. Leva. They will find some way to split you apart.”

Oyvind carried on polishing his boots, but was perturbed by Karl’s words. “It’s not like she’s a Courantist or anything. Levavita is a nice girl. Good family. Strong genes to pass onto our children.”

Karl agreed. “I like her. She’s good for you. But they won’t let you marry her. Best to move on.”

Oyvind turned to his cousin, eyes narrowing. “What is it that you know that I don’t?”

Karl shifted uncomfortably. “I hear the way some in the Summer Palace talk. They wouldn’t talk the way they do if the highest level in the royal household also wasn’t speaking and thinking that way. They’ll use different, politer terms.”

Karl looked up at Oyvind, meeting his eyes. “That means your father, too.”

“What is the issue even with Leva?” He sighed.

“You said it yourself. Genes. Good genes, yes, but the wrong genes.”

“But why? What’s the cedar-damned point?”

“She’s wrong for the role you will one day inherit.”

“But why?”

“She just is. The country won’t accept her blood. Your parents will reject the match. End it, Oyv, before it’s forced upon you.”

Oyvind sighed again, leaning back against the wall. Karl would only be telling him this if he had multiple indications that it was true. He loved Leva, he was pretty sure. The 19 year old girl excited his mind and heart. And his loins, he grinned to himself, remembering the last time they had met up.

“C’mon, let’s go eat.” Karl broke the Prince out of his revere. Oyvind sighed and followed.

2020

Grand Duke Oyvind V Kiansson paced. He paced 6 paces in one direction, then turned around and paced 6 paces back. Exactly. Six paces one way, six paces back. And he counted each pace as he paced.

“They are sticking to the royal railroad only?” He asked. Duke Karl Gustafsson nodded.

“Yes. Your son instructed them to stay off on the main line, so as not to disrupt normal traffic.”

Oyvind grunted. He could hardly chastise his heir for doing so - with a lack of roads in Gotmark most people got around on the trains, both the local broad gauge tracks and the higher speed commercialised ones that connected to Goyanes.

“He’s smart, I’ll give him that.” Karl said.

Oyvind’s mood darkened. “Not so smart. If he was smarter this would’ve been avoided.”

Oyvind had an… awkward relationship with his son. Kristoph was headstrong, but dutiful. They clashed over policy, the direction in which Gotmark might travel, but never in public. Kristoph, as the eldest, had always strove to set an example for his younger siblings. Oyvind had witnessed it, multiple times.

Kristoph was the one who spotted Billy’s interest in security matters, channelling that in ways that would benefit Gotmark, convincing Oyvind to allow William to take a leading role. Oyvind still had… reservations… about how much control William exercised, but Kristoph was always there to reassure him.

Harris was the trouble maker, normally. The assignment as ambassador to the Pan-Gotic Union had taught him discretion, but prior to that he had generated a distressing number of headlines. Oyvind’s first grey hairs had appeared after a particular incident involving an Occlusion tutor, a small amount of gold bullion and a goose.

“Kristoph is supposed to be the one that keeps out of trouble.” Oyvind said allowed, resuming his pacing.

“My information suggests this isn’t his first… uh… interaction. But he’s previously been discrete.”

Oyvind gave no indication he heard the information.

“Your Majesty… Oyv… can I speak as your cousin?”

Oyvind ceased pacing.

“Speak, cousin.”

“Kristoph needs to be… discouraged… from these actions.”

“Well yes, it would hardly due to have him plastered across the front pag-”

“You misunderstand me, Oyv.” Karl interrupted. “I don’t mean the actions done in public. I mean all of it.”

Oyvind raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realise you felt quite this way about the subject.”

Karl shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not that I have anything against… those people. But it’s wrong for the role he will eventually inherit. If he wants to ascend to the throne one day - which he has to do - then he needs to choose to stop.”

“Go on.”

“There are… doctors… who can help him. Confine him to Traumslott and I will have them visit him - I can supervise this personally.”

Oyvind blinked slowly, but said no more, continuing to pace.

1994

Leva tried not to cry as she read the letter. She hadn’t been allowed to see Oyvie for weeks, after he had withdrawn from the university. She had tried to track his movements in the press but all he seemed to be doing was staying in his residence, the Traumslott. Whether he was comfortably ensconced or vasciliating about them played on Leva’s mind.

He had suddenly cut off contact with her 6 weeks ago. Not a word, a note, a message, nothing. They had gone from talking multiple times a day, planning a future together, to nothing. He had proposed! It had been a rainy day and they had been watching television and working on their studies, when she returned from the kitchen to find Oyvind on one knee.

She said yes instantly.

She still wore the ring. Was wearing it right now.

Desperate, she had approached his cousin, Karl. The son of the Duke of Malmo, Karl had never been overly kind towards her, but she didn’t feel entirely disliked. Oyvie put it down to Karl just being an asshole. She hoped he could help.

“He broke up with me, via letter?” She asked, voice trembling.

Karl nodded stoically. “He has other responsibilities to consider. And his parents have found him a suitable match. It isn’t you.”

Leva replied on autopilot. Said she understood. She’d be fine. Karl offered to organise a break from her studies, and a free ticket home to Iraelia to collect herself. She accepted, trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible. Karl organised a car for her, but before she left asked for the engagement ring back. Levavita politely, and firmly, refused.

A few days before Crown Prince Oyvind Kiansson married Catrinna Freyadottir, his fellow student at the University of Gotmark Levavita Bialik died in a car crash outside of the Gotmarker capital. Her remains were returned to her family, though her left hand had been severed in the crash, and never recovered.

 

[St George]

The Grand Duke wasn’t there to greet them as they arrived at the Summer Palace’s station. Probably for the best, mused Kristoph, before he swore and ducked instinctively, just as Cilje entered the carriage he was sitting in.

“What are you doing?”

“She’s here.”

“Who?” Cilje looked out the window, spotted the person standing on the platform and froze. She almost attempted to join Kristoph on the floor but was seen.

“Aunt Catrina!”

“Cilje. You look well.” Their conversation was going on through the open window. “Where is Kristoph?”

Cilje looked around and made a show of Kristoph not being in the carriage. “I think he’s in the other carriage,” She said, then at the glare from her aunt stretched and pointed towards where her cousin was hiding.

“Traitor.” Kristoph mouthed at her as she shot him an apologetic look.

“Kristoph Oyvindsson, stand up.” Uncomfortably, the heir to the throne of Gotmark climbed to his feet.

“Hello, mother.”

The Grand Duchess gave her son a withering look. “Get out here, all of you.”

Reluctantly assembled on the platform, Catrina stared at all three of them. “Well, how are we all? Did the journey helped you get over the hangover I’m sure you had?”

Kristoph looked away. This wasn’t how he thought the first conversation with his mother after coming out would go. Luis seemed to sense it too, but didn’t really know what to say. So Cilje stepped up.

“The journey was… uneventful. We were hoping to settle in before seeing anyone.” Cilje tried not to sound too hopeful.

“Hmm.” The Duchess looked between the three. “We’ll get you set up later. There are important things to do first. Kristoph!”

The change in tone, from calm to demanding, broke Kristoph’s revere. He had been holding in a breath and didn’t realise it. He looked into his mother’s eyes for the first time since arriving.

“I knew.” She told him. “I always knew.”

And that was all he needed to know. Everything, the events of the last few days, and the secret he had been carrying, hiding, within himself. The Crown Prince of Gotmark hugged his mother tightly and cried silent tears full of sadness and happiness.

They spent a long moment like that, just as mother and son, before Catrina slowly extricated herself from the embrace. She turned to the other two, both looking awkward. “Kristoph, Cilje, why have neither of you introduced me to this young man?”

Kristoph was still composing himself so his cousin made the introductions. “This is Luis, Aunt Catrina. He and Kristoph are…-” Cilje paused, unsure of how to explain their relationship.

“Hoping to get to know another better.” Luis supplied, drawing a raised eyebrow from the Duchess. Luis was nervous in the presence of such a person. Catrina drew conversation and attention to herself just by her presence. The very definition of larger than life, it seemed to Luis that Kristoph after her a lot.

“I’m sure we will all get to know each other better.” Catrina said, then turned to Cilje. “Cilje, please take yourself and Kristoph to the Orm sitting room. I will join you shortly.”

Cilje knew better than to question her aunt but Luis started. “I would prefer to stay with Kris.”

There it was, Luis was sure of it. A flash of… something… is Catrina’s eyes. This was someone fiercely protective of her family, and willing to fight for it. She would’ve spoken sharply, if Kristoph hadn’t got there first.

“I’ll be fine.” Luis didn’t seem convinced, so Kristoph repeated himself. “Really, Luis, I’ll be ok. Cilje will give you the tour. This won’t take long, I’m sure of it.”

Luis acquiesced but shot Kristoph a look. He didn’t need to do this alone, Luis would’ve been there. The Crown Prince nodded to him, as his mother took his arm.

They began walking, not directly to where he’d meet his father, Kristoph realised. She was giving him time to collect himself before seeing him. Kristoph felt so stupid. Of course she had known! It was impossible to keep a secret from her. Every time he had snuck out, or Billy had come up with a scheme, or Harris had done something borderline insane, of course she had known.

They walked in silence for most of the way, before his mother spoke. “Luis seems nice.” A neutral statement.

“I think so. I hope to be able to find out for myself with outside pressures.”

His mother laughed. “Oh my son. There are always outside pressures. From family. From friends. From the country. You have to decide whether they matter more than he does.” Catrina paused. “I did expect to have this conversation with you one day, but not after the papers had, what’s the term that is used, outed you?”

Kristoph internally cringed. “That is the term.” He thought about the likely press coverage and how much time had passed since that night. It was probably awful. “I broke my phone so I haven’t checked. How bad is it?”

“Well, the gutter press is obviously full of it. It’s like they’d never heard of Hugo or something.” Hugo von Hagen was King of Hessunland, and also an out homosexual. “Some of the friendlier press is saying it’s a private matter, but they’re being drowned out by the tabloid nonsense.”

Kristoph sighed. “I’m sorry for putting you all through this.”

“My son, if you never caused me to worry I’d just worry that you weren’t living your life. Let lesser people snipe at you from the sidelines. Stand tall where they don’t.”

Kristoph was lifted by her words, but came to realise they were stood outside of the study likely to contain his father. He steeled himself.

“Remember, he’s still your father. You’re still his son. He wants you to be happy.”

Not entirely convinced, Kristoph gave his mother’s hand a last squeeze, as she walked away.

“Well, if I am going to be beheaded.” He told the headless statue of his ancestor Oyvind, whose execution by the Aarkvests had caused his son Job to rebel against them, “I guess I’ll be in good company.”

Kristoph pushed open the door and walked inside.

 

[St George]

Kristoph was surprised to see his father wasn’t alone as he entered the room, though when he realised who the figures that turned and quickly approached him were he felt more at ease. His siblings, William, Harris and Enja all embraced him briefly, before Enja started asking him questions about Luis.

“So, like, where is he? What’s he like? Are you and he boyfriends? When did you meet him? How long have you been going out? Can I meet him? Can we go shopping?” Kristoph endured the questioning before Harris rescued him.

“Jeez Enj, give him some breathing room. I’m sure he’ll tell you all about his new beau over some kind of spiced latte.” Harris winked at his older brother as he said it. Enja seemed to find a new latte flavour every month, and usually insisted one of her siblings go with her to try it.

Enja huffed, but Kristoph spoke to her. “We may have to make a day of it, little sister. And how is Cosona treating you? Keeping out of wine caves?”

Harris laughed. “Just about. The PGU oscillates between periods of very intense activity and then almost nothing. It’s something I’ve spoken to Jurgen about trying to change, but we lack ideas currently as to this. A number of members are… reluctant… to allow more bureaucracy.”

Kristoph sighed. “The Vallish?”

“Not just them. But we’ll work it out. Kelle thinks she has a way around them.” Kristoph raised his eyebrows at the mention of Harris’s former classmate.

“Have you and Kelle been working closely often?”

Harris flushed. “Nah, I’m not sure you get to ask that question, big brother. Not at the moment.” They both laughed, though it seemed hollow given the situation.

William chose that moment to speak up. “Was the journey here uneventful?”

Kristoph nodded. “Your staff do an effective and discreet job.”

William pressed on. “I heard there was an unwelcome guest.” It took Kristoph a moment to understand his brother’s emphasis. Then it dawned on him, and he looked up sharply. William saw and stepped in front of his brother, just so the unwelcome guest didn’t realise.

Karl, their uncle or cousin or something like that, was also in the room. None of them liked Karl, despite him being family. He was neither welcoming nor tolerant, though he put on enough airs and graces to be kept around by their father.

“Nothing that was too difficult to deal with. Just a small thing that needed dealing with.”

William nodded. Kristoph knew he hated Karl more than most, and that made the Crown Prince intensely curious. He made a mental note to have a long discussion with his brother about Karl.

“Time to go, I need to speak to Kristoph.” For the first time since his son had entered the room, Grand Duke Oyvind had spoken. Karl made no motion to move as Kristoph’s siblings went to leave, but William stood and stayed. Oyvind tutted.

“Not always is your presence required, Billy.”

The younger son didn’t move. “And yet I feel very strongly like this is one in which it is.” His eyes didn’t move from his fathers, and the two stared at each other for a long moment. Kristoph went to speak, to dismiss William, but Oyvind waved him quiet.

“Fair enough, but I will speak bluntly to you, my son. Choose your moment to interfere wisely.”

“As you taught me, father.”

Oyvind dismissed the praise with a noise, turning to his son.

“And as for you.” Kristoph almost flinched. There were a number of things evident in those four words. Anger. Disappointment. Resentment? Maybe a little. “What on eras were you thinking?”

Kristoph paused. “I’m not sure what to sa-”

“You could start by apologising for the shame you’ve brought to your family, your father and the throne.” Karl interrupted aggressively. “Seriously, after everything, everything that’s been handed to you, you go and throw it away with a stupid, self-drestructive act to indulge a phase.”

Kristoph didn’t look at him, or his father. Karl’s tirade continued. “Hundreds of thousands of dram, the best education, all to prepare you to succeed your father. And instead you go chasing some degenerate act of hedonism. And why? Tell me, Crown Prince, why do it?”

William went to defend his brother, but Oyvind stopped him with a look before he could. This was Kristoph’s battle to fight. Karl continued without noticing the interaction.

“After everything that’s been done to put you in a position to set a good example, stand for the values of Gotmark, for this nation. And you’ve put it all at risk, because you couldn’t keep your perversion suppressed. Did you stop to think, before you gave it up to an elf-cosplayer? A low-born Alnarian? Did he make you feel good, Krissy? How will he feel, when your actions get him sent back home. Not only have you disgraced yourself, you’ll have caused an international incident”

The Crown Prince let the words wash over him. The hatred, vile and venom coming from Karl was something he hadn’t seen before. But Kristoph was becoming increasingly annoyed with what was happening. His brother had been silenced. His father was saying nothing. And this minor relation of the family had the nerve to speak this way?

“Are you even fit to be Crown Prince, Kristoph? Are you? I want you to think very hard about that, because your actions suggest that you are-”

“Sorry, who are you again?” Karl paused, taken aback for a moment before replying.

“I’m the person asking you if you’re fit for the role you were give-”

“You’re no one.” Kristoph stood after interrupting him again. “My personal affairs are the business of three people in particular. Myself, my chosen partner, and in a distant third, my father. I will speak to him about my personal affairs. But you?”

Karl and Kristoph locked eyes. The older man was certainly full of hatred, Kristoph noted. “I’m not sure exactly what it is you do, but you are neither someone of sufficient rank or friendship with me to speak to me in such a way.”

“You believe I am not fit, obviously. You think I have disgraced myself, my family and my father. You are entitled to think and believe those things. Just as I am entitled to think that you are a shitty father to your daughter and a shitty advisor to my father. And if you think those opinions are wrong I challenge you to prove it with your actions.”

Karl tried to respond but Kristoph spoke over him, looking directly at his father. “I am a homosexual. I’m not the first gay royal and I likely won’t be the last. If the succession is what worries you well you inherited the throne from your older brother. I can adopt. If adoption is not sufficient then my brothers or sister will likely have their own children, to further secure the succession.”

“If it is a personal distaste for who I am, then we shall work on that, you and I, as father and son. I regret the way you found out about this single facet of who I am. It was never my intention. I do not regret who I am. I will never regret who I am. No one will ever make me regret who I am.”

Kristoph finished talking, but remained standing, eyes locked with his father. Oyvind, in that moment, for the first time, looked different to his son. He seemed older, more vulnerable. Some of the reserve between father and son had gone, the reverence of a child for his parent fading. They were more like equals than before.

Karl was still furious, but before he could rebut Kristoph, William cleared his throat. “I think, father, that a variation on your planned course of action is required. You had intended to send Kristoph to the traumslott until this blows over. This would still be a good course of action to take - away from the prying eyes of the press. I believe my department would be better to cover the security arrangements, however.” William didn’t look at Karl, but he could feel the older man bristling at the suggestion. “With your permission of course, father.”

The Grand Duke, deep in thought, agreed. He told Karl to stay in the room, and dismissed his sons.

 

[St George]

Kristoph laughed in relief after the two left the room. His celebrations were short lived, as William pulled his elder brother into a side room. Kristoph quirked an eyebrow but Billy motioned him to shush.

The room was adjacent to where they’d just been - their fathers study, and William beckoned Kristoph over to the wall. The younger brother opened a door Kristoph didn’t even know existed, and the two squeezed into an alcove - seemingly a place between the rooms.

Kristoph stayed silent but his impatience was growing… until he heard Karl’s voice. He sounded annoyed, to Kristoph’s satisfaction. He couldn’t hear who he was talking to, it seemed Karl was on the phone.

“The plan will have to change. We can get your lot into the Traumslott anyway. Communications blackout will be easy enough to organise, and both Princes will be called away. That will leave Kristoph’s… distraction… on his own. Take him. And make sure he doesn’t come back.”

Kristoph froze up and was about to move, to storm into the room and… he didn’t know. Confront Karl? Attack him? This was rendered moot by Billy forcibly holding him in place. He struggled silently for a few seconds before his brother managed to snap him out of it. Hearing Karl’s plan was important, seemed to be the message.

“I will be on site in the immediate aftermath, to ensure things go smoothly. That’s all I’ll say for now. We’ll speak again soon.” Karl’s phone call ended, and the two brothers heard him walk away.

Kristoph again went to speak, but William stopped him. “Not yet.” He led Kristoph out of the room. “We’ll be missed if we’re any longer, but know that things are in hand. Speak naturally.”

Kristoph couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Billy if you expect me not to do something then you must be mad.”

“I expect you to do what you can to protect yourself and Luis whilst keeping up appearances. Let me handle security, Kris. We can catch Karl in the act here but you have to let me and my people do our work.”

“He just organised a killing, Billy.”

“And it’s probably not the first.”

Kristoph stopped short, causing both his brother and a couple of passing maids to look at him. He started after his brother again quickly. “What do you mean?”

William shook his head. “It’s nothing, I’m sure. Just… I have access to a lot of old files. And some of the things in those files raise eyebrows, to say the least. I can’t say more.”

“Tell me,” Kristoph asked him.

“When we get to the Traumslott. Not here. Too many ears I don’t know.”

They walked in silence for a time, passing through halls they’d grown up in. They suddenly seemed less safe than they had just a few hours ago. Kristoph shivered, which his brother thankfully ignored.

They were approaching their mothers suite of offices and sitting rooms when Kristoph asked the question they both were thinking.

“Does he know?”

William said nothing, but Kristoph pressed, stopping his brother in his tracks.

“Billy, do you think he knows?”

His brother closed his eyes, looking tired. "Keep walking Kris." Kristoph looked annoyed, but continued walking. “I think he knows a lot - and thinks his cousin is a harsh but fair tough love type. There was probably a plan to get you ‘counselling’ or some other pointless shit. Maybe he was going to suddenly convert to Courantism and have your ‘demon’ exorcised.”

“And the other things? The ones Karl has done?”

“As I said, I’m not sure he has done anything, but if he has, I’m convinced father didn’t know about it.” He paused. “I am rather hesitant about digging further.”

Kristoph looked him in the eyes. “It has to be done, but it’s not something you can do alone. When this is over we’ll find out, together.”

Billy nodded, and was going to reply when a nearby door opened. “There you both are. Come on, you need to rescue Luis from our mother and Enja.” Kristoph chuckled as Harris led them on, into the room.

It took a few moments to extricate a grateful Luis from his female family members, and the four of them walked the halls for time, before they split apart. Kristoph showed Luis the room that had been prepared for him, and as soon as they entered Kristoph hugged this man he was only just getting to know, saying nothing of note to Luis’s question.

They stayed like this for a long time, clinging to each other, the Crown Prince of Gotmark and this stranger with the green eyes.

 

[St George]

“Luis can I ask a question?” They were sat together, on the train to Traumslott, Kristoph’s official residence in the north of Gotmark. The scenery was a comforting endlessness of snow capped trees and the occasional town or more often, village and hamlet.

They had left the Sommarslott earlier in the day, seen off by Harris and Enje. The Grand Duke had not made an appearance, nor had Karl. The official Royal photographer had though, and he had snapped some photographs for a press release saying Kristoph would be spending time at Traumslott to ‘reflect on recent events’.

Kristoph understood the need for some kind of official statement, but he had rolled his eyes at the wording. Still, his father had decided on what would be included, and he would be giving a press conference at around the same time Kristoph would be arriving. Kristoph didn’t know what he was going to say, but was grateful to him for doing that.

“Sure, Kris, what is it?”

They’d spent most of the night and day before talking, getting to know each other. Luis was working as a translator in Gotmark whilst he studied for a degree in Modern Languages from the Lerum Institute of Higher Learning. He had two sisters, both of whom were madly in love with various royals throughout Eras - Kristoph joked that he should pass on his brothers phone numbers to them.

Kristoph had told him about growing up in the Palace with his brothers, and later his sister. The three brothers had briefly torn up the social scene in Gotmark before Kristoph began to settle down and take his role as heir apparent more seriously. Luis got the impression that the weight of that role was particularly heavy.

“When did you figure out you were gay?”

“Having second thoughts, Kris?” Luis teased in response to the question.

Kristoph snorted. “Hardly. I vomited on your carpet, I owe you the chance to do it on mine. I was just wondering, is all.”

Luis nodded. “I guess on some level I always knew I wasn’t interested in girls. They just never held my attention when I was younger. As for when I knew I was gay? I was probably 16 or 17.”

Luis leaned back on sofa, putting his arm around Kristoph. “So I was on the swim team, and we were in the locker room. One of my teammates walked up and it was like something just clicked.”

Luis spoke wistfully. “Dude looked like an angel. Like one of those Kilith gods that would've made artists and sculptors drop tools and spend some time alone. The water glistened off his skin as it ran down his natural curves. Down that V…”

Luis sighed as Kristoph listened intently. “He walked right towards me, opening the locker next to me. I bit my lip, trying to remember basic sentence structure. My heart thundered in my chest. I couldn't have cared less about breathing.” Luis took Kristoph’s hand and put it on his heart.

“You ask when I knew I like guys? Like... really liked guys?”

Kristoph nodded.

“I'll tell you. It's when I bit my fucking lip.”

Kristoph, on a whim, stood up. Luis looked Kristoph up and down, almost hungrily. Stood above the taller man, Kristoph appreciated the reverse in perspectives. The shirt Luis wore hugged his frame closely, and from Kristoph’s perspective he was definitely well built.

His gaze travelled upwards, over his chest and up to his face - the strong jaw, the lips he’d spent a lot of time getting familiar with. And those eyes, emeralds blazing.

Kristoph bit his lip.

“Am I interrupting?”

Kristoph and Luis both looked to the door, then Kristoph hurriedly straightened up, away from Luis. Stood in the door, observing proceedings, was the Grand Duchess of Gotmark.

 

[St George]

“I am intruding.” It wasn’t a question, coming from the Grand Duchess of Gotmark. Catrina sat down next to Luis and Kristoph. The three sat in silence for some time.

“You wouldn’t do so without a reason to, mother.” Kristoph finally said. He had grown tense, Luis realised, and wondered why.

“I heard about what happened with Karl.”

Kristoph raised an eyebrow. “Father told you?”

Catrina laughed. “No, no he didn’t. But I always find out anyway.”

“Billy.”

Kristoph’s mother didn’t address that. “Karl is… an old friend, and family, of your fathers. Distantly, through Etta Dukemother, myself as well. He is… conservative... to say the least, and has a certain proclivity for actions that he thinks best represent your father’s will.”

“Is father aware of this?”

Catrina sighed as Luis shifted uncomfortably. He felt like an intruder on what should have been a private conversation. He stood up and walked to a counter where a minifridge sat, grabbing a bottle of water.

“Your father has a blind spot when it comes to his cousin. Sometimes I think he’s aware of what Karl does, other times I’m not so sure.”

Luis let the two talk, lost as he was in his own thoughts, engaging only when spoken to, before the Grand Duchess retired for the evening..

===

“You know, you didn’t have to engineer a national scandal just to come and see me, Kris.” Viktor Viktorsson finished pouring their drinks and sat down, across from the Crown Prince. “The Traumslott is technically your primary residence. You could move in permanently at any time.”

“That would be…” Kristoph struggled to find the right words.

“Too much of a commitment? Too much like settling down? Don’t tell me the elder third of the Three Princes still feels the need to sow his oats, so to speak.”

“Jeez, VV.” Kristoph ran his hand through his hair, laughing. “It’s nothing like that. Can’t I just come and see an old friend since I’m in the neighbourhood?”

“That’s Doctor VV, Kris, and even before I qualified as a psychiatrist I could always read you.”

“Nothing to read here, Doc. Just catching up with an old friend.” Kristoph was being evasive.

Viktor shot back. “You’re 23, you don’t have old friends.”

“What does that make us then? We don’t exactly keep in touch.”

“It makes me bad at correspondence and it makes you deflecting royally, to pardon the pun.” Viktor downed his drink. “Now you obviously came here for a reason, so let’s skip to the part where you start talking.”

Kristoph sighed, then downed his own drink. He had told Luis he had some business matters to attend to once they got to the Traumslott, leaving him with his mother and brother. He wasn’t sure which of the males was getting the worse deal there, but Catrina would certainly be enjoying herself.

It had been a lie, whatever he told them. Máijá had organised a car for the two of them, and she was waiting outside, complete with a cell jammer, just in case any eagle-eyed member of the public wanted to tip off the press that the Crown Prince was seeing a shrink.

Inside, Kristoph still hadn’t decided where to begin, but after a lot of prompting from Viktor, started to really explain things…

“It was those damn green eyes…”

 

[St George]

The library at the Traumslott, Luis decided, was worth going through all of this. Whatever this was, he still hadn’t decided. Kristoph was… intoxicating. Not the royal stuff, that was just a complication.

It was Kristoph himself that had Luis not knowing if he was coming or going. He was simultaneously vulnerable and formidable, soft and intimidating. The intensity of what they both were feeling had surprised Luis. And that was so far out of his comfort zone that Luis had gone exploring around this literal castle, ensconcing himself in the library.

Spacious, yet intimate, most of the works were in Gojan or other Gotic languages, but there were a few in his own language and some more in older languages still. These weren’t so much books as notes on ancient, probably lost works, predating the Gojan settlement of Gotmark.

“I could spend weeks here.” He said to himself. He left unspoken the question he had been avoiding.

Should he stay? The idea was attractive to him. He wanted to explore this growing relationship he had with Kristoph, work out what that meant for himself. But he was also a deeply private individual, despite being out. The scrutiny he would be under, both from the royals themselves and from wider society wasn’t something he was sure he could deal with.

His phone buzzed. Luis looked down at it, eyes narrowing as he saw the message from his manager at work. Reporter came in looking for you. Asking about you. Told them to leave. What’s going on? Where are you?

Luis grimaced, and wrote a quick reply. Will explain more soon, but I’m ok. Found myself in the north. Please don’t tell them where I am. I’ll be back very soon.

That should be enough to keep him from pressing too much, Luis thought, and he’ll be back tomorrow anyway. He just needs to find a way out of here.

Luis shook himself, chastising his own brain. He wasn’t a prisoner here, he could just go out the front door. Leaving the Library, Luis started towards the main staircase, before darting around a corner as he heard Kristoph’s mother in conversation with an aide. He shrunk into the alcove he was hiding in, embarrassed, until they moved further away.

Ok, he thought, front door is out. I do not want that conversation. Is there another staircase? He wandered the halls for a while before finding what seemed to be a service entrance. He breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door.

===

Máijá Torstdottir was annoyed. In fact she was more than annoyed. What had meant to be a short detour so her charge could see this doctor, a shrink he knew from his time at University, had lasted a hell of a lot longer than it should have, and to make matters worse, both Kristoph and the Doctor had come out of the building on unstable feet.

“Did you have to drink half a bottle of Brennivin? We should’ve been back hours ago.”

Kristoph snorted to himself drunkenly, but also felt bad enough that he tried to apologise. Badly. “We’re sorry Máijá, but the doctor prescribed it.”

Viktor continued. “Half a bottle now, the rest once we get back.” He had snuck it into the car and now brought it out his jacket pocket.

“Oh hell no. You are not getting us pulled over by the locals. We are supposed to be keeping a low profile here. Now, sit still and let me drive.”

Máijá took a longer route back to the Traumslott to let them sober up a bit. Once they arrived, she quickly wished she was the one with Brennivin. Both Prince William and the Grand Duchess were upset. She initially thought that this was due to the state that Kristoph was in, but after handing him and the doc off to some servants, they pulled her into the security room.

“Something’s happened.” Prince William began, gesturing to a tech to play some footage. It was from a service corridor in the east wing of the palace, near the library. The video showed Luis exiting by the service entrance as some workers were coming in. The tech paused.

“Is… is Luis still here?” She asked, dreading the answer to that question.

“No, but we need to find him, quickly. He’s in danger.”

“Danger? He left on his own.” Máijá didn’t understand.

“No,” William said. “He didn’t.”

The tech resumed the footage, switching to an outside camera. It showed Luis stop and turn around to go back into the building, only for him to be grabbed and hauled into the small van that the three workers had arrived in.

“We tracked it leaving the grounds an hour ago. After that, we’re not sure where it went.”

Máijá slammed the desk. “So the Crown Prince’s new partner was just abducted, and we have no idea where he might be being held.”

William nodded. “Yes, and I don’t think we have long to find him.”

 

[St George]

“Three days. It’s been three days William. Where the fuck is Luis? Where is that bastard Karl?”

William rubbed his temples. The search for the kidnapped Luis was not going well. Luckily it hadn’t reached the press yet but they were pressing. And Kristoph was an even bigger mess than he had been before.

“We’ll find him, Kris. And soon. We have leads. And we’ve hit the normal sources much harder than we normally do. Someone will talk, and soon.” William was looking over a report of suspicious activity in a town nearby.

The Crown Prince wasn’t convinced. “When? He could be dead, Billy.” The fear and loss in his voice was clear enough that others in the office noticed, chancing glances at the two royals. William shot the nosy few he noticed a dirty look, then took Kristoph by his arm, and into a side room.

“Kris,” When his older brother didn’t respond he spoke harsher. “Kristoph you ass wake up.”

“What?”

“This is about more than your love interest. This is an opportunity to get rid of Karl.”

Kristoph didn’t understand. Luis was missing. That’s all that mattered. “Bill-”

William cut him off. “If he doesn’t turn up but Karl goes down, that’s an acceptable loss.” He turned away. “So get your head in the game. This is importa-”

William was cut off by his brother spinning him around and slugging him in the face. He fell to the floor but struggled up, barely avoiding a second punch.

“There you are.” He quickly stepped backwards, out of range. “I knew that would wake you up.” Kristoph was mid-pursuit when he heard what his brother said.

He paused for a long moment. “You wanted to provoke me? Why?”

“Because you aren’t of any use to anyone when you’re like this.” He held up his hands to placate his brother. “Kris, I get it. I get it. I do. But we all need you here, with us. Worry, yes. But don’t let it consume you.”

There was a knock at the door, but the two brothers just stated at each other, strain evident on both their faces. “We will find him.”

“We have found him.”

Both men span around at the voice. Máijá stood in the doorway, unsure entirely of what had just occurred but knowing she had to intrude.

“We got a tip, this morning. Armed men in a disused warehouse in Torst. Intel suggests it’s what we’re looking for.”

Both men burst into action. “Ok, let’s get a team geared and ready to go.” William said.

“Already there, ready to breach on your order.” She led the two men back into the office, where a number of staff were already watching a screen, the view of an armed officer wearing a camera on display.

William took command of the room, putting a headset on and handing one to Kristoph. “All teams, breach when ready.”

What happened next was quick, efficient and it surprised Kristoph. He had never seen Gotmark security personnel in this kind of action. They moved with purpose, putting down several armed men inside the warehouse without alarm being raised. They slowly closed in on a central location, Kristoph’s heart beating what felt like a thousand beats a minute as he saw, tied to a chair, face beaten and bruised, one of those green eyes swollen shut, Luis.

“Primary target secure.” The team leader said as she helped to untie Luis. “Luis, can you hear me?”

Luis’s reply was hard to make out, but he repeated himself. “You… were in Lerum?”

Steffi laughed. “Surprised you remember me, Mr Hallacar. But yes. Now hold onto me, we’ll get you out of here.”