The Puppet Prince

A Thief in the Thicket

The sun was beginning to set and the four had met in the stable to finalize the plan.

"This is so weird," Gwynne gawked, staring at what appeared to be an exact replica of himself. 

He knew it would be strange to see himself like this, but nothing could have prepared him for such a strange, out-of-body, experience. Frasier, disguised as Gwynne, shrugged an uncomfortable shrug and picked at his new head of dark brown curly hair. The two stood side by side for comparison and one immediate giveaway was their overall posture. 

John crossed his arms and cringed, "That's not going to work. People are going to question Gwynne's sudden change in attitude."

He was right because the prince always seemed to be in a far-off land when not tied down by the interaction of others, whilst Frasier may as well have been waiting for an enemy to attack; alert and attentive. But, they were short on time, so for now this quick fix would have to work.

"You'll just have to keep your distance from people and do your job," Gwynne shrugged, mounting his horse, "All else fails just pretend to be sick." 

The prince flashed a wide grin and before Frasier could argue, the two were off. They hid their identities with black cloaks and took extra care with their hoods when going through the gates. Gwynn couldn't allow himself to think on the details of their plan too long, otherwise, he would find many faults, like the fact that John had no one to stand in, or if they were ever actually coming back, or if- 

"You ok?!" John shouted over the sound of hoof fall.

He was good at reading Gwynne, scary good. Almost nothing slipped past John's perceptive gaze and Gwynne was cursing under his breath for being so transparent, once again.

He swallowed his nerves and shouted back, "Yeah, everything's great! Just thinking about the torture we're putting Frasier through," he forced a laugh. 

John stared at him from the corner of his eye for a few moments before responding, "Yeah, the old man has it coming!"

They rode for about three hours when finally the two agreed their butts were beginning to get sore. It was dark and the nearest protection was the edge of a thick, dark wood, forest. Setting up camp would have been an easy procedure, but Gwynne had forgotten to pack the pegs for their tent. He stood up stiff at the realization and knew John was going to make an ordeal out of his error.

"Hey Gwynne, where are the pegs? I need to get this thing set up, the bugs are eating me," John asked over his shoulder, whilst rummaging through one of the saddle bags. 

Gwynne bit his lip and widened his eyes, he knew he'd been caught. "Ummm... I may have forgotten them," he responded in an Awkward tone.

Shuffling under John's silence, Gwynne knew he was in trouble. Despite John only being four years older than him, He had taken the prince under his wing and taught him many helpful lessons in life. During their mentoring sessions though, Gwynne had plenty of time to frustrate John, so he was all too familiar with his fits. 

"Seriously," John said, blatantly, "We're going on an outdoor trip and you forgot the pegs to our tent," He drug put the sentence in frustration.

His anger was the silent type that spoke a million words. Before Gwynne could explain himself John snatched a lantern off the ground, which held a glowing orb, and marched further into the thicket. 

"I'm going to survey the area."

"There you go again, getting all critical and stomping off," Gwynne grumped, swinging his arms in frustration.

John didn't slow and clearly spoke, "I just need a minute, please respect that."

Gwynne pouted alone by the green tent, which still lay sprawled on the ground. It's just a stupid tent, he thought. Shrugging off John's bad attitude, Gwynne went to work on the tent trying to rig it to the wide tree trunks and branches. It took a few tries but eventually, he managed to put together a canopy-style roof. It was rough looking but maybe his stuck-up friend could manage. 

Some time passed and Gwynne was starting to grow more and more aware of his solitude. Without John there, every sound and movement became magnified. Before he could allow himself to get worked up over his growing anxieties, Gwynne walked a few feet from the forest's edge and lay on his back. He took in the excellence of the stars until his eyes grew too heavy to hold open.

A loud clattering tore Gwynne from his unintentional nap. He lifted his head expecting to see John but instead, there stood a small frame hidden under a moss green cloak. 

Shocked and still groggy from sleep, Gwynne struggled to his feet and shouted, "What on earth do you think you're doing?!"

The stranger quickly jumped from the bag she had been rummaging through, glanced at the prince, and made a run for a large horse that had not been there before. He sped after her, dazed by the unexpected event.

John walked out from the depth of the woods, just as Gwynne began to mount his horse. 

"They're getting away," he cried. Realizing what the thief had nabbed he added, "And they have the map!"

John sprinted to his horse and threw his leg over in one swift motion. They both chased the Mysterious figure into the woods, relying on the moonlight for guidance.

Valeigha - If you haven't noticed yet, I'm a sucker for alliteration lol. Thank you for reading this part I hope you enjoyed it! :D If you did t would mean the world to me if you could leave a star before moving on to the next part. <3 Thank you and please have a good rest of your day/night! xoxo