Heavy is the Head

Chapter 8

Hoo boy. It's been a while, but I finally churned this out. Get ready for the dominoes to really start falling.

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It takes him a minute to get his bearings when he wakes up.

He's dizzy, his brain feels fuzzy, there are dark spots floating through his vision and a sharp pain at the back of his head. When he tries to lift his hand to feel it, he realizes that he's been restrained.

He doesn't know how long he's been unconscious, only that moments ago he was at his own non-consensual wedding, and now he... isn't.

He looks around at his surroundings, trying to figure out where he is.

He's still in the castle, judging by the stone floors and walls, but not a room he's familiar with. Perhaps a supply closet or a storage room. As his vision clears he starts to see stacks of chairs, including the one to which he is tied.

Beyond the doors he can hear the muffled sounds of fighting, the clanging of weapons and the shouts of warriors.

He thinks back to the increased security around the palace and wonders if this is what the king had been anticipating. Evidently, it hadn't been enough, as it appears to Pete that the rebels were storming the palace. And for some reason, they have tied him up and locked him in a closet.

Pete tries to struggle out of his restraints, he looks around for something, anything he can use to get out of this room, to no avail. From what he's heard these rebels are more about violence than any actual reform. A shiver runs through him when he thinks what they might be planning to do with him.

The worst part is that he has no idea what's going on outside. There aren't many people he holds dear, but all of them are out there right now. Win and Team, Dean and his father, his own mother, who he has not been able to see in years, and Ae. Ae who was put on the king's personal guard- the most dangerous place he could be right now- because of him.

If you'd have asked him last week, he would have wished the wedding could be stopped at any cost. But not like this, not putting so many lives at risk. He nearly spirals, thinking of how many innocent people may have been hurt today, but he's not given the time because the door opens.

For a moment he is blinded by the sliver of light let in by the door opening and all he sees is a daunting silhouette approaching him.

The silhouette lights a candle, and when Pete's eyes adjust, he almost doesn't recognize the man.

"Trump?" He questions, his voice weak and scratchy.

"Oh Pete. Thank goodness you're awake."

He takes in Trump in the dim light. He hasn't changed much since he was a kid, just gotten taller and filled out a bit. In the flickering candlelight, the dark circles under his eyes, and the sharp lines of his face throw dark shadows, making him look gaunt and sallow.

"What's happening? Why are you here?"

"What? Prince Pete, didn't you miss me?"

Pete is so thrown by everything- the chaos outside, Trump's sudden appearance, the throbbing pain in his skull- that he's having trouble connecting the dots. The ability to comprehend his situation eludes him, and he finds himself confused and frustrated.

"Let me go."

He musters all the authority he has in him, but his voice still shakes.

"I'm afraid I can't do that Pete," Trump approaches him menacingly, stepping into his space," you see, I already let you get away once before, and it really screwed me over."