Eurovision Fairytales (Requests Open)

Prince des neiges - Part V (Damiano)

To balance everything out...here's the past few days from Prince Damiano's perspective instead. 

Summary: While the Prince of Snow was forced into hiding by his wicked stepmother, the Prince from across the sea waits. And then searches.

......

He wasn't there.

Prince Damiano tried to tamper his disappointment when he intentionally passed by the well and saw no sign of Yohan.

To be fair, he hadn't expected to develop such an abrupt attachment to someone whom he had only met the day before and only talked to for a short while. And yet...

He could still see his face, his eyes, his shy smile. His clear voice still echoed in his head, tugging at his heart almost incessantly.

When Damiano had left his own Kingdom months earlier, he was a young Prince with no true purpose, other than to support his older brother, who was in line for the throne. After wondering the lands and meeting different people each time, he could not explain how he felt so drawn to this one man.

Quietly, the Prince dismounted his horse by the empty well, tethering the animal before heading into town.

With the afternoon sun in the sky, Prince Damiano found himself entering a fairly crowded marketplace.

"Forgive me for asking," He asked a merchant. "But, how familiar are you with the other villagers in the Kingdom?"

"I should be very familiar with a lot of them," The merchant replied, polishing some metal silverware. "I sell my wares all over the land."

"Has a man by the name of Yohan come by recently?"

The merchant frowned and shook his head.

"Sorry, monsieur. I'm don't know anyone by that name. Perhaps he doesn't live here?"

"Hmm...from the way he spoke, I was sure he did..."

"What did he look like? Perhaps I'd recognise him that way."

Oh, that was too simple. Damiano refused to admit he had practically memorised Yohan's features immediately after laying eyes on him.

"Dark curly hair, pale skin and brown eyes," He told the man, purposely avoiding further elaboration in case he ended up waxing poetry - he was absolutely NOT about to swoon right there and then.

For some reason, this caught the attention of a few other villagers, one of whom tapped his shoulder.

"Did this person...happen to be singing when you came upon him?" The woman asked softly. Damiano's eyes widened, and he nodded.

"Yes, he had the voice...of an angel?"

"Oh..."

The people seemed saddened at this. Seeing the concern on Damiano's face, the merchant explained.

"It is likely that man whom you are describing is Prince Gjon. The physical features you just mentioned match, and he did have the loveliest voice..."

Prince Gjon? Damiano thought to himself in surprise. He had sensed some hesitation on the other's end to tell his name. He had assumed it was only because they weren't familiar with each other, but if the man had been working up another name to give him, that might have contributed as well. To be fair, Damiano hadn't told him he was a Prince either.

"Prince Gjon..." Damiano repeated thoughtfully, before something else occurred to him."Why did you say...'he did'?"

"You must not be from around here if you haven't heard." The merchant said, as the other listening villagers nodded solemnly. "A few days ago, Prince Gjon was killed by a wild animal in the forest. There was nothing left of him to bury."