The Royal Thief

He's scared of the conversation to come.

The wooden chair dug into his back, grounding him so he didn't feel like he was getting pulled underneath the world as Phil's eyes bore into his.

People praise blue eyes over and over again, not knowing how terrifying they truly can be.

Tommy's mother described his eyes as being a perfect representation of the sky, shining and hopeful.

If Tommy had to describe Phil's eyes in one word or less he'd say they reminded him of oceans.

Deep blue, with secrets under the surface.

The ocean usually copies the sky, looking up at it as if the same blood ran in their veins.

Tommy's always considered the ocean a scary place, having heard horrifying stories from survivors that were just barely holding on.

Stories of sirens that sang songs of wishes and dreams before dragging sailors under the surface to satisfy their bloodlust.

When Tommy's father was alive, he knew lots of people who experienced their sailing partners give in to the songs of the sea, jumping in to kiss the woman of their nightmares.

Tommy had a very active imagination when he was younger, his imagination was so good he could summon realistic hallucinations in front of him for his innocent eyes to take in.

Tommy's father didn't like it when he did that, so he stopped.

Come to think of it, Tommy stopped doing lots of things because his parents despised them.

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows, pulling his eyes away from Phil and down to his hands.

His parents always said they wanted to protect him from the world, but he didn't know that would mean forbidding him from doing things he enjoyed.

They didn't like him pretending to fly, which he thought was just downright bizarre, who doesn't like flying?

They didn't like heat, or fire, their house always ran cold.

Tommy was more hot headed when he was younger, his parents would describe him screaming or talking back as him "spitting fire at coals and hoping they burn.".

They didn't like what Tommy did, they were different in those aspects.

Now, Tommy loved his parents, don't get him wrong.

He just thinks that maybe, sometimes, they were a little mean.

Not too much, just a little.

Plus, everyone's parents are a little mean sometimes so it's nothing to worry about.

Phil taps the desk in front of him, his lips are moving when Tommy looks up but it takes him a moment to process the words leaving them.

"You alright, mate? I've been talking for a minute and you haven't responded."

"I'm alright Phil,"

He forced a smile.

"I'm always alright."

The king looked down at him, a suspicious look covering his features.

God, Tommy hated how similar their eyes were.

Another thing Tommy hated about the King was the undying sympathy in the man's eyes.

He'd fall for a mock baby cry.

"If you say so, mate."

Phil cracked his knuckles, looking around nervously, which confused Tommy as he was ninety-five percent certain he was supposed to be the nervous one here.

"So, to start this off, your parents,"

Tommy stared at him, unblinking.

"They were in the royal guard, and were very close to me and my sons."

"Even the son that killed them?"

Phil sighed, looking down at his hands.

"Tommy."

"No, Phil. I understand completely, my parents were very close to your sons, and even closer to their swords."

"Techno didn't mean to."

"I know. Because I know what actually happened that day."

Phil looked up, the same sympathetic ocean eyes that met his conflicted sky blue ones before now holding an emotion similar to shock.

"What."

"You want me to repeat myself?"

Tommy leaned forwards slightly.

"I know what happened when Eret led Techno away."

Phil fell silent, staring Tommy down like it was Black Friday and he took the last deep fryer.

"Elaborate?"

Tommy smiled, wasn't Phil supposed to be the one with the answers?

"Techno was lost to the bloodlust, he had cornered Eret close to the end of the fight. Eret didn't know how to react, until he saw the flash of my Father's armour head towards the forest."

Tommy paused and Phil nodded him on.

"Eret led your bloodthirsty son to my parents in hopes that he would end their lives, and not his."

Tommy looked down at his nails, picking at them for a second before making eye contact with the King again.

"His hopes were wishes, and God answered."

Tommy stood, moving the crutches under his armpits again.

"While I don't forgive your son, I'm aware that it wasn't entirely his fault."

Tommy turned around, going to leave.

"You can't just leave after saying that, Tommy."

He turned around to see Phil standing still, leaning a good majority of his weight on the beautifully carved desk he usually signed his royal papers on.

"Watch me. Your Royal Highness."

Tommy adjusted his grip on the crutch and reached for the doorknob, twisting it to the right and opening it.

"I'm tired, Phil. If you had half a mind, you'd leave me be."

And with that, he left the room, heading back to his temporary room where it was likely he'd be bothered by one of the princes once he sat down on the bed, which was far too comfortable to be real.

If Phil responded, or even called his name, he couldn't hear him.

Not that he wanted to.

He didn't want to listen to Phil's denial.

And he for sure didn't want to listen to Techno's reaction when Phil told him.

Tommy isn't scared of Techno, no.

He's scared of the conversation to come.

(940 words)

(Hey idiots, chapter's finally out, sorry it took so long.  I hate to say this but I'm running kind of low on motivation for this book.  I don't really plan on ending it, but if it comes to that, just know I'm sorry.  Have a good day you goblins, bye.)