REVOLUTION: young royals

the role you made me play of the fool

ok so i wrote this after the four minute teaser came out a few weeks ago! there was supposed to be a much longer scene at hillerska feat simon but i still haven't finished that - i may or may not post that as a second chapter? we'll see if i finish it before nov 1 (probably not)

also, if you saw my last fic - young royals was the hyperfixation referenced in it. i really am quinni aren't i

—

Wilhelm has not spoken a word to his mother all break.

He's spoken. A little bit. Mostly quiet mumbles as responses to questions. He's gotten to a point where he can somewhat hold a conversation of small talk, even if it's only small nods and monosyllabic answers. The most he's said in one go were monotoned sentences at holiday PR appearances, but that was mostly because of his parents begging him to 'at least wish them a nice Christmas.' (Needless to say, he did not say those exact words.)

Still, nothing to his mother.

Wilhelm has a habit of holding grudges. Sometimes over trivial matters. But this time, he thinks it's justifiable. He knows it's justifiable. He knows he's well within his rights to curse out August and give his mom the silent treatment, so it's no surprise to Kristina when Wilhelm won't even look her in the eye. She knows he's hurting, but there's nothing she can do about it.

Wilhelm is hurting. The first few days, it was hard to even get out of bed, let alone speak. And when he finally left, the first place he went to was Erik's room. Kristina knows that if she can't find Wille, he'll be curled in a ball on his brother's bed, taking in the scent of his old cologne that Wille always found disgusting. Now, that smell is the only thing in his home that truly feels like home.

But most of the time, he stays in bed. He stays there so much that the maids rarely have the chance to come in and clean up. His room is a mess now — clothes piling up, tissues on the floor, and an overflowing trash can. Wille doesn't even care, to be honest. He's grown numb. Every time his phone vibrates, he begrudgingly checks it, even though it's almost always a pleading attempt at an apology from August. He ignores those, but sometimes he has the courage to type a long 'fuck you.' These responses have grown more common and more intense, including insults and threats and any mean thing Wille can conjure up. He doesn't care. He just wants August to hurt.

Overall, a very not-nice Christmas.

The morning before he leaves for Hillerska, Wille once again finds himself in Erik's room. Kristina is trying to get a word in, but he closes the door in her face. He wraps himself in Erik's old uniform, distracting himself from his most recent Simon-related dream and his mother's desperate attempts at trying to get him to talk to her. As he digs into the pocket, his hand wraps around a metal tin. He tries not to scoff when he opens it and reads the engraved writing — Once a brother, always a brother.

Then, he's standing in front of the mirror and staring at the old photos of his brother, himself, and-

When Wille exits, Kristina can smell a hint of smoke following him, and she catches a glimpse of a shiny lighter stuffed in his pocket. She's always prided herself in being the best monarch — she's the first queen in over 300 years, she has to be. Her job is her life. But it's days like this, as she follows her silent, straight-faced son, that she wishes she were the best mother as well.

* 555 words (October 1, 2022)