little french boy. ➵ lashton ✔

huit.

Luke startled awake with a gasp and a hiccup, shivering in Ashton's arms.

"Vous avez quitté... Vous avez quitté... Ashton, ne laissez jamais..." The little French boy panted, tears in his eyes as Ashton held him upright and asked him to tell what had happened. Luke said that Ashton had actually jumped out of the window he had smashed the day before.

"Je ne pouvais pas arriver à vous dans le temps," Luke whimpered.

"You'd always save me," Ashton assured, rubbing the boy's back.

Those dreams were only the beginning.

//

For the next long weeks ahead, Ashton was out more often, pillaging and scavenging and going to war with other countries. Luke didn't like it at all, because when Ashton was out, Luke was alone. He disliked being alone.

He, instead, flitted about the castle, cleaning and helping the servants with their chores, although Ashton had once scolded him for doing the work of the lower class.

"Ashton est la plus belle roi jamais," Luke sang softly mockingly, "jamais, jamais, jamais..."

Once Luke had finished helping with chores, he went out to the stables, breathing in the fresh, spring air.

He was delighted to see that Harlot was back to good conditions and especially so that Clarissa was not hurt.

She frowned at the scars that had been left on Luke's face from Ashton's attack but didn't bring them up, saddling up Luke's horse and helping him on. Luke sat on the horse's back and Clarissa laughed to herself.

"Qu'est-ce qui est si drôle?" Luke asked softly, blushing a bit.

"You're going to make the greatest... ah... roi, since when Ashton was first crowned," she murmured, tapping Harlot's thigh and getting her moving.

//

Luke wasn't riding at a very fast speed when he had to tug on Harlot's reigns to bring her to a stop in front of Harry, who seemingly appeared in front of them with his red-rimmed eyes and a frantic look in his face.

"Sir Luke, Sir Luke help, please," Harry begged, tears streaming down his oval-shaped face, "my mother, she's..." The young boy burst out into tears again as Luke dismounted his horse and knelt down to Harry's height, a worried look on his face.

"What happened?" Luke asked, a thick accent lacing his words.

"She's dead," Harry sobbed, shaking his head and letting his dirty curls bob back and forth.

Luke's lips parted in shock and he cupped Harry's cheeks.

"Morte?" Luke asked, horrified. How could Ashton just leave the castle whilst people, especially women, were dying?

Harry didn't know if Luke was actually correct or not, but he nodded quickly and shyly, his hands shaking.

"I went to our... wh-where we sleep and-and she was just laying there, a-and she was v-very cold and then I called for my sister and she said she was dead," Harry explained weakly, sniffling and breathing frantically.

"Calm," Luke murmured, resting his hands down on Harry's shoulders, "calm please."

"I will help Harry's family," Luke nodded, looking in to Harry's green eyes.

Harry broke out into a relieved smile and ran in to Luke's arms.

"Bless you, King Luke," Harry breathed, arms tightening around Luke's neck.

Luke smiled, and shook his head. "Not roi, I am just a Luke," he shrugged.

"When you are crowned the king, can I be your royal sidekick?" Harry asked.

Luke laughed, not understanding. "You are old... how?" He struggled a bit, but Harry filled in the sentence for him.

"How old am I? I'm eleven."

Luke racked his brain, trying to remember the sound of the word eleven. Harry didn't sound or look very old, but he was intelligent enough to make one think twice.

Luke finally remembered, and smiled once again.

"Who's this, love?" Ashton asked, patting Luke's arm as he reached them. Luke didn't know when Ashton had gotten out there, but he honestly didn't care. He was plenty upset with Ashton at this point.

"Go," Luke whispered, tucking a few pence in to Harry's back pocket for safe-keeping and letting him go.

Harry hugged him once more and ran off towards the castle, his growing legs making him almost trip as he ran.

"Who was that?" Ashton repeated.

"Harry."

Luke didn't say anything else.

"What were you doing, talking to him out here?"

"Nothing."

Luke climbed back onto the horse and looked down at Ashton.

"Coming?"

Ashton shook his head.

"I would like to speak with you once you come back inside," Ashton said, his voice somewhat passive-aggressive, "in our bedroom, if you will."

Luke knew Ashton didn't mean faire l'amour, because as of late Ashton wouldn't ever touch Luke in that way, it had only been cuddles.

And don't get Luke wrong, he loved to faire l'amour and he loved câlins as much as the next guy, but he was still nervous for what Ashton had in mind.

Besides, the last thing Ashton had done in their bedroom included a riding crop and a million bad memories.

//

this is a shitty chapter but hay we got some like idk backstory on harry???? wow he's eleven so much backstory thanks mint

yw i'm so good at writing lol v proud v proud

-mintyfrash