Trigger warning: a scene depicting a mild panic attack, and mentions of past anxiety/panic attacks.
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PART I: THE BEGINNING OF TIME
The Year 1869.
"Harry, have you gone nuts?!"
The omega barely shook his head at the question, bunching up the silk around his thighs as he swung a leg over the windowsill. "You cannot do this, Harry!" Leon cried out from his spot, standing next to the ivory vanity that embellished the Prince's room. "I cannot afford to marry an alpha thrice my age." He muttered softly in the disconcertingly quiet night, now sitting on the windowsill as he stared down at the ground absentmindedly. "That does not mean you have to run away just a night prior to the grand wedding!" The blond omega exclaimed, voice loud and booming with traces of exasperation sewn in.
"What if I tell you to marry a sixty-year-old alpha? Would you do that?" Harry curled his lips in a knowing smirk at the silence he was rewarded with, clutching the leather satchel closer to his chest as his left foot assessed the strength of the vine of the ivy creepers that teemed the walls of the palace. "At least take someone with you," Leon suggested, a little defeated now. "I cannot. And do not worry, no one will know you helped me." He assured the frightened omega with a tone of finality in his voice, jade green eyes soft as he shot one last smile to his only friend before he was turning around and grabbing the vines with adroit fingers.
The vines could not hold his weight. He should have realized that when the vine had broken in two halves upon meeting the serrated sole of his winter boots but perhaps, the faux sense of security and safety had clouded his senses, and the ego he had been scolded too many times about had dominated over the pragmatic side of his mind— and thus, just seconds after fitting the heel of his boot in-between the gap of the wall and the creeper, he was falling from the second story of the mammoth edifice.
He groaned in anguish at the pain that shot up his spine, squinting his eyes as he shot a thumbs up to the concerned blond fussing over him from the window above. He sat upon the dewy grass, running a hand through his hair hastily to ensure that his golden star hair clips were still intact in his hair. They were his lucky clips, his father had brought him the clips from one of his travels when he was just at the shy age of ten, and ever since then, they had become his lucky pair (there was not anything lucky about them but for the sake of individuality, Harry liked to call them his lucky pair).
His breath hitched as the sound of heavy footsteps resonated through the tenebrous night. His head shot up to meet the panicked gaze of Leon who seemed as if he was instructing him to do something but the words never reached his ears, the hand motions stayed muted as a whizzing sound filled his incoherent mess of a brain. Over the drone of his mind, he could hear the footsteps coming near. The wet squelch of shoes hitting the moist grass was the only thing his mind could comprehend and apparently react to it. Just as the footsteps halted and the lanterns were lit to life, the omega ducked himself behind the bushes of red roses.
He observed the frantic scene with bated breath, clamping a trembling hand on his mouth as if the trivial action would prevent him from making any sort of noise. "Johnny, I told you there was no noise!" He heard a man exclaim, the tone of his voice edging towards anger. "I heard it loud and clear as day." Another man spoke, his voice more sensible in a sense that made Harry aware of the fact that the former guard was probably intoxicated. "Well, either way, there's no one 'ere! So, I'd suggest we go back to finishing up the bottle." He released the breath he was holding when the guards went away, one pair of legs eager and unsteady whilst the other was reluctant and much more steady.
He stayed hidden until he was sure there was no way the guards would return, breathing out a general sigh of relief as he stood up to his full height, quickly jumping over the bushes as his hands made themselves busy with the task of dusting off the grime that had flung itself on his silk slip. Figuring he had not much time to waste around, he promptly dashed away to the iron gates of the palace with one last wave thrown over his shoulder at Leon.
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Polaris || l.s.
Fanfiction[discontinued until further notice] Harry's heart was dead set on freedom. It was not a recent thing, he had been itching to get away from the confines of the responsibilities he had as the prince of Eonshire. Running away from home was easy, but b...
