Something With a Prince

14 Years Ago

She was no longer his friend, that much was clear to the young prince when he returned from the forest.

They told him he must have hit his head while trying to find his way home. He was out there all night until the watch found him curled up against a tree, sleeping peacefully. He believed them. After all, what other explanation could there be?

The young prince found his way through the castle and into the village, feeling as if he had forgotten something. His older brother walked by his side, not saying much, but letting his hand rest on the young prince's shoulder. He was not angry at having to keep an eye on his little brother from now on. He felt worried for him. The way those brown eyes would search the streets like he was looking for something, and yet, his tiny face gave no sign of distress. The older brother wondered if the little prince knew he was searching at all.

There were a lot of questions, all that were unanswerable because the young prince did not know why he was there, how he got hurt, or what he was doing. He knew his head hurt and that it was very cold. But somehow, when the young prince and his brother arrived at Rosemary's home, some things began to make sense again. He remembered telling a girl with blue eyes a story. He remembered her believing him.

The princes were greeted at the door by Rosemary, and they all felt an undercurrent of tension about the room. She offered them baked treats and let them play on the floor with all sorts of toys that were strewn about the carpet. The older brother was fascinated by a sword hanging above the mantle, while the young prince stood facing the bookshelf, trying to remember why it made him so sad. That was when she came out of her room.

The older brother smiled at her, happy to see his friend again. She looked different to them both, but in a good way. Her eyes were no longer dark around the edges, her hair was combed down in neat curls, and she was fully dressed; no longer wearing that ratty nightgown. Once again, she looked like that young girl they knew, but it was only the look that returned to normal.

"Thea, you're better?" The older brother pulled her into a hug, which she steadily returned. It was as if she had just woken up from a heavy sleep and didn't know if the world was the world or a dream. The young prince watched her carefully, feeling a turning in his stomach and an itch in his throat that he did not understand.

"Hi, Arlyn." She pulled away from him and was overtaken by a smile, "Are we going to play here today? Are you going to teach me how to fight?"

The older brother laughed, pushing her hair into her eyes, "You can't fight me yet, you're too small." Then he looked over his shoulder at the young prince, "Should we take Thea to the garden and play dragons?"

The young prince felt like nodding, but she was staring at him in a way that made him hold back.

Her blue eyes were very cold. "I don't like playing with Lansing. He slows us down, and cries when we make him the dragon."

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do! You're stupid and always falling down." She looked to the older brother, "Why can't we just play? Why does he have to come?"

"Tallethea!" The Mother tugged her daughter to her, stunned at this sudden outburst. "What has gotten into you? Lansing is your friend. We don't talk to our friends like that."

The young prince, well, he tried to hide the quiver in his lip. She caught it anyway.

"See, he's crying right now!" She whined, throwing her arm out, gesturing to him.

His older brother stepped beside him, tucking him under his arm affectionately, "Come on, Thea. Please let him come. You won't fall down, will you, Lansing?"

"Yes, he will," She was glaring at him. He couldn't figure out why. "He ruins everything."

The young prince bolstered, "I'm not crying and I'm not stupid!"

The children began yelling, throwing words around the room like a group of politicians. The older brother was in the center trying to mediate, but it was not working at all. The younger two were fighting horribly, one trying to inflict as much hurt as the other. Even the mother couldn't get the two of them to settle down, until she pushed her daughter and the eldest outside into the backyard while she grappled with the young prince to calm down.

He was not crying, he was fuming. She had never seen that reaction from her child before, and a hidden part of her wondered if that was what the witch was talking about. Then she stopped wondering and forced the notion out of her head. Her child was fine, just tired, that's all. Children fight all the time.

"Lansing, you must calm down." She pulled the prince toward her by his little arms, "Take deep breaths, calm down."

"She started it! Why am I in trouble if she started it?"

"You're not in trouble," The mother swept hair from his angry brows, "and I will talk to Thea about her behavior. But you are a prince, and there are certain things that you need to be able to control. Your temper being one of them."

The young prince was calm, but he was not happy. "Why? Why should I?"

"Because, you have a role in this Kingdom and other children look to you as an example. There are other ways of controlling your temper." She pressed her hand against his small ones, "When you get really angry with someone, try to understand why they're mad too. Then, use your words. Don't yell, don't fight, try to work it out."

"What if that doesn't work?" He was gaping into her soul with those big honey eyes.

"Then you stand up for yourself and show kindness where they cannot. Sometimes people don't always know why they're angry until they've talked about it." The mother stood up and opened the back door, leading the young prince out, "So get them to talk about it first. Sometimes it's just about listening."

From that day on, the young prince was always listening. Perhaps, if he listened close enough, he would understand, and if he could understand, then maybe he could find whatever it was he was looking for.