Painting the Roses Blue (wonderland au)

Chapter 11

 The taps of his heeled boot echoed through the throne room, creating more noise than he had originally intended. His head pounded, filled to the brim with the day's complaints and the implications of them. He now, in the late afternoon, had to try and figure out solutions to every single one of them. Of course, most were fairly simple. A lot of the townspeople simply wanted Murdoc to send a staff member to complete a petty task, such as removing a wasp nest from a house, or rebuilding a broken fence. The hardest complaint to deal with had been the one about the newcomers, but Russel told him not to worry, he reminded himself, so he had been trying to focus on other things. However, it's pretty difficult to focus on other things when there isn't anything else to think about. He already ate lunch, the garden was tended to, and Stuart was probably still in his bedroom.

Murdoc chuckled to nobody, thinking of that rabbit. What a nervous little creature, surely a curious thing to behold. He had wanted to spend more time with the man, but had been putting that task off the longest. He couldn't dare to face such an innocent thing, knowing that he would most likely taint Stuart in the next week. It was common, in the Niccals family, to taint the innocent things they loved. Take his father, for example, previous King of Hearts.

Sebastian was a vicious ruler, more like Paula than Murdoc, and would murder if given a strange look. The only one able to bring him out of this tyrannical trance was Murdoc's mother, whose name he had lost to time. She was a free spirit and brought tranquility with wherever she went. He could remember how his father's old eyes would soften at the mere thought of his late queen. She was the one and only for Sebastion, there was no doubt about it.

Their meeting was simple- she stormed into the castle as a complainer, pushing past all the staff just to give the King a piece of her mind. Her complaint was that Sebastian's soldiers paid no mind to her garden in front of her cottage, meaning that every time they walked or rode past, it was inevitable that her red roses and geraniums were crushed to smithereens. It had taken years for her to build up the courage to even consider complaining, until one night, when the soldiers crushed a new batch of red asters, that she had taken enough. The next morning, she got up, and immediately walked to the castle to complain. The anger fueled her steps and clouded her mind, leaving the implications to be thought of after the fact. As soon as Sebastian had laid his cold eyes on her, he was smitten. Of course, he never let anyone but himself admit it, but that was the absolute truth. He made her queen instantly, with her permission, of course, though even that took major convincing.

It was a trend in the Niccals household to do many things without considering the implications. For example, Sebastian married and had his first child all within the same year. Then, Murdoc's mother insisted on waiting until his older brother was more independent to have any other children. Sebastian couldn't help but agree, he feared losing his new wife too much. She was everything to him. Despite her mellowing him out, he still ruled with an iron fist. He performed fewer executions, sure, but the kingdom was still tense, even with the new spouse.

Things had changed later on, though. Murdoc was born when Hannibal was only five years old. Their mother lived for four more years until she was taken by a bad case of pneumonia. Murdoc was too young then to retain any clear memories of his mother. Looking back, all he could see was a blurry face and a shining smile, complimented by a pair of arms wrapping around his tiny body securely, as if to say that no harm will ever come to him. As those arms faded away into nothingness, his mind wandered to images of his father, after his mother's death.

Sebastian spiraled. He was worse than ever before. While before, he drank very much, although his mother had put a stop before anything could happen. Without her, his habits only worsened. It was nightly that he had finished off at least a bottle of the kingdom's finest, especially stressful nights it was at least two. Hannibal and Murdoc adapted fast, they had to, for their own sake. Murdoc's older brother and the staff within the castle raised him better than his own father did, which is most likely the reason why he isn't a complete tyrant like his father. Despite the acceptable treatment from his brother and staff, he was still petrified when Sebastian was in one of his moods. The man was depressed, in grief, yet was denying the possibility of his wife's death. He was in denial until the very day that he died. Liver failure.

When Sebastian's life ended, Murdoc was fifteen years old and felt little to no anguish over the passing of his father. Logically speaking, Hannibal, being the first-born, would be the next in line for the crown and title of King of Hearts. Hannibal, as soon as he was fourteen, left the Kingdom for good, under the excuse that he went on a vague 'mission,' never to be found again. All believed he died, but Murdoc knew better. His brother was smarter than let on, and he wouldn't just walk into the forest to die. The youngest brother knew that people survived for years in the forest, it was possible that Hannibal even lived a full life in the forest, something better than anything a life of royalty could ever compare to. Personally, Murdoc wouldn't ever dare live out his days in the forest, but to each their own, he figured.

Murdoc was pulled away from his mental flashback by a creak at the opening door. He groaned. "Who the fuck- the throne room is closed for today! Complain tomorrow, or I'll really give ya something to complain about!" He banged his staff and stood up, glaring daggers at the intruder. His eyebrows instantly raised and his eyes softened upon seeing who had entered the room. "Oh, it's just you. Shouldn't you be back in bed, resting?" His eyebrows furrowed once more and he sat back down, frowning a bit.

Stuart was staring up at the king with wide eyes, biting his lip. Murdoc told him to stop, and he briefly apologized before trying to build up the confidence to speak. "Well, I- Okay, so, your friend- and I guess, my friend now, technically, you know- Sir Russel, you know Russel, right?" Murdoc scoffed, a sly smirk ghosting over his thin lips.

"I know of him."

"Okay- well, Russel told me that you were stressed out and that I could help!" Stuart's disposition changed to that of a cheerful one, giving Murdoc a strained grin at the end of his proposition.

Murdoc turned his head to the side, trying to subtly cover his burning cheeks with his left hand. Tens of thoughts rushed through his empty head, all dirty and would be dealt with a slap to the back of his head from Russel. When Stuart's smile wavered, he whipped his head back, clearing his throat loudly. "Very well, continue."

"Well, since I was a singer in the other kingdom, Russel thought that I could sing to you! Get your mind off all the stress from being a king!" His grin was no longer forced, but a genuine, helpful smile that shone throughout the throne room.

The King raised his brows, considering what would happen if he said no, then what would happen if he said yes, and figured the latter had the better outcome. He crossed his arms, sitting straight against his throne and staring down at Stuart. He grinned evilly. "Fine. Impress me."