The Prince's Peasant {TomTord Royalty AU}

-seven-

Pain.

All Tom could feel was pain.

He sat up slightly, groaning. His head was pounding. His vision was hazy. His mouth tasted horrible. "T-Tord?" He rasped.

No reply. Tom shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Once his vision was cleared, he looked around and nearly fell off the bed.

He was back in his room.

Room, as in, the room from his castle. From his days as a prince. "No..." Tom sat up. His eyes widened and he began trembling. He wanted to scream, cry, kick, and most of all, know if Tord was safe. "NO!"

Tom got to his feet and stumbled forward. He caught himself with the wall and found his balance. He ran to the door and tried to open it.

It was locked from the outside.

"Shit!" Tom looked around for something to help him escape, but there was nothing.

Tord woke up. The first thing he felt was his bones aching. He coughed and fanned away the dust particles that drifted lazily in front of his face. Confused, he scanned his surroundings. A barred window. A long slab of stone with a tattered blanket that seemed to have been carelessly tossed on top of it. An old, rusty bucket in the corner. No doors. Just metal bars.

He was in a cell.

Cursing and mumbling, Tord shakily stood up. He brushed himself off and scowled. "Hello?" He called out. His accent-laced voice echoed around the tiny space.

No one answered. There were other cells, with other criminals in them. They only glared at him with a look of disgust and hatred.

"Hey, i'm no lower than you, pal," Tord spat at an especially tough-looking guy, narrowing his eyes and not feeling threatened at all. Then, a thought occurred to him.

Tom.

He nearly kicked himself for not remembering sooner.