The Royal Thief

The fine art of collapsing.

Tommy woke up, his back sore and feet throbbing.

He laid in the tree for a little while longer before climbing down and walking back from where he came, going over and over all the pros and cons of returning to the castle.

The cons list was long, he could get locked up, never allowed to leave anyone's sight, adopted into the royal family against his will, forever reminded that his parents were dead and he was legally a child, or continue to barely eat anything he was given and pass away from malnourishment.

The pros list was shorter, and Tommy barely thought of them, he could get smothered with the love he so very missed from his own family, he could get food everyday and never go hungry, he could..

No, leaving was for the better.

Tommy glanced around, looking for a spare piece of fabric he could use to hide his face, seeing as the whole kingdom would know it by now.

He saw a maid hanging sheets and thin blankets in the distance and ran towards them, hiding behind nearby bushes and trees as he went, the grass staining his socks greener than a ripe lime.

Tommy soon got close enough to grab an old ripped brown blanket, why the maid kept it instead of discarding it was a surprise, but he was glad anyway.

He pulled it off the line and ran away, crouching behind a far away bush and holding his breath.

The maid turned around and seemed confused about the lack of blanket, but appeared to brush it off, going back to folding.

Tommy waited until he was sure no one could see him and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, tying it together and pulling some over his head, hiding his face.

He stood up from behind the dark green bush, the makeshift cloak dragging against the ground as he walked towards the village.

Tommy began to plan out how he would survive in the world without somebody helping, or reminding, him to eat and take care of himself.

He planned a new identity, he'd go by a fake name, Red, and he'd speak through writing letters of the alphabet on people's palms, a common way to speak if you couldn't.

As the forest Tommy usually stayed in got closer, the figures of Technoblade and some of the royal guards became visible.

He sucked in a breath and ducked his head down as he saw someone point in his direction.

Tommy turned to his left and continued walking, letting the yells of the guards grow louder without a care.

Somebody placed their hand on his shoulder, halting his slow walking.

''Hello, may I ask if you know the whereabouts of a boy named Thomas? He goes by Tommy and he's just recently ran away from the castle and I wish to find him.''

Tommy glanced up, not moving his face, only his eyes.

How many times was he going to get stopped by Techno near a forest?

Tommy shook his head, pressing his lips together.

''You haven't seen him? Can you talk?''

One of the guards pressed, seeming skeptical as the boy shook his head once again.

''And you're sure you haven't seen a boy around your height, blonde hair, blue eyes?''

Another one jumped in, standing next to Techno.

Tommy once again shook his head, not sure what else to say, or, what else to do, rather.

Techno narrowed his eyes, turning around and gestured for the guards to follow him, he'd have to tell Phil about this kid later.

Tommy watched them walk away, only leaving once he could no longer see them.

He was surprised no one asked to see his face, but glad anyway.

Tommy walked into the busy village streets, squeezing past people and occasionally slipping coins out of their pockets.

No one noticed, occupied by the poster that was hung on the city news board.

He pushed forward, putting the coins in his pocket on the way, he hoped that the poster wasn't what he thought it was.

Once Tommy finally got to the front his eyes widened, it was a missing poster, and a picture of him from a few months ago, before his parents passed.

He looked happy, and carefree, feelings he hadn't felt in a while.

The paper asked that whoever returned Tommy, hopefully alive, would get a large amount of gold coins, a reward every villager would quite literally kill someone for.

He eventually got shoved out of the way, another eager person going to look at his picture.

Tommy walked off, going over to the apple stand he usually stole from, the man raised an eyebrow as he picked out three apples, but shrugged his shoulders as Tommy dug out the coins he stole and put them on the table.

The man counted and took them, pushing the apples and some change toward the cloaked child in front of him.

Tommy nodded in thanks and walked off, taking a bite out of one of the sweet, perfectly ripe, apples as he left.

He was unsure of where exactly he was heading, all he knew is that he had to leave the village.

He was no longer safe there.

Tommy was ready to sacrifice his happy memories and safeness just so he could continue living on his own, families are temporary anyways.

And it's best not to get attached to temporary things.

Tommy stole some old boots off somebody's doorstep, they seemed to be slowly deteriorating, so the person who owned them was probably no longer going to make use of them.

He slipped them on, they cushioned his feet in an okay manner and didn't fall off when he lifted his feet, they would work for now.

He finished the apple with a singular bite out of it, stealing a map out of someone's pocket and decided to head towards the Pride kingdom, it wouldn't be that long of a walk, only about five hours or so, he could get there by the end of the day if he never stopped walking.

An hour and a half soon passed and it turned out walking on a badly sprained ankle for long periods of time is a very foolish move.

Tommy's foot felt as if somebody was taking a sharp knife and stabbing into every single bone and nerve they could reach, it was excruciating.

Not only that but the pathway to the Pride kingdom he was taking was fading and getting covered by fresh snow.

Was it mentioned that it was snowing?

No?

Well, it was.

And the boots Tommy was wearing were for sure not meant for copious amounts of snow.

Nevertheless, he trudged forwards, never stopping even when the snow began to reach his knees.

He had eaten half of one of the other apples he had, hungrier than he thought.

Tommy knew that eating more than one a day was idiotic, but everyone's slightly idiotic, including Tommy himself, so it didn't matter.

Two more hours and thirty minutes passed again, meaning there was only one more hour left of Tommy's hike.

He continued walking and as twenty minutes passed he did two things, finish the second apple and practice something we all know as..

The fine art of collapsing.

(1220 words)