Meet Me in the Garden (DSAF royal AU)

Chapter Seven - Dianthus

Four hours, yet it felt like years.

For four hours, Dave had done nothing but lie in his bed, alternating between anger, despair, and self hatred. Of course he didn't mean it, nobody ever means it.

The one thing he didn't understand was why Jack had done what he did. He was always so kind and understanding, why would he just have an entire change in attitude overnight? Did Dave do something wrong?

... No.

He had to stop blaming himself for things that he didn't do.

This was all on Jack, he was the one who toyed with Dave's feelings. Who made him feel on top of the world, only to grab him by the ankle and throw him back to the dirt.

Dave was done just moping about. He'd been insulted, degraded, dehumanized, but he'd be damned if he let the sole person he let into his life do the same.

Throwing on his coat, not bothering to fit the buttons into the slots, Dave clambered down the main staircase, headed for the door of the castle. He was going to find Jack, and he was finally going to make it clear that he wasn't going to be toyed with anymore.

Once again, hours had passed, nothing changed.

He'd been to almost every tavern or inn in town and he still couldn't find the one Jack's brother owned. He didn't want to just back out now, but the idea was beginning to have more and more appeal.

Next thing he knew, he made sudden and hard contact with what felt like another person, and Dave was on the pavement, parallel to a man in barkeep's clothing, who was rubbing his head in pain.

"Ah, sir, are you alright?" Dave stood up, holding out a hand for the man to grab onto. "I must have been spacing, my sincerest apologies."

The man, still rubbing the side of his head, took hold of Dave's hand. He looked up at the prince, and suddenly, he was a blubbering mess, trying to get up without shaking so much he collapsed.

"O-Oh god, your highness, I'm so sorry!" His voice was high pitched and brittle even without the fear. "Please forgive me, I didn't realize it was you, oh my god you're gonna have my skin for this—"

"Sir, please calm down." Dave put his hands on the man's shoulders, the latter near tears within a few seconds. "You haven't done anything wrong, I'm not going to skin you alive or anything like that."

A few minutes passed before the man was calm enough to form coherent sentences. Dave had learned the man's name, Roger, and he worked as a barkeep in the more eastern part of town. Just Dave's lucky day, most of the bartenders knew and were close with each other here.

"Say, Roger," Dave began. "Do you happen to know a bartender with the surname Kennedy?"

"Kennedy?"  Roger put a finger to his chin, as if trying to recall something he forgot long ago.
"... Yeah, I know one. His name's Peter, do you need him?"

"Yes, actually," The relief that flooded through Dave was euphoric. "I was wondering if you knew where his tavern is. Just assuming you know, since most of you bartenders are in cahoots with each other."

"He's actually very close!" Roger replied. "About a five minute walk if you keep going left from the library."

"Ah, I knew I must have overlooked it." Dave got up off the stool the two were sat on and bowed his head. "Thank you kindly, sir."

With a wave, Dave set off on his way to the tavern. About time.

Dave found the little bell that rang above the door charming, and wanted to hear it again, but he had better things to do at the moment.