A Prince's Dream
Jun. 1st, 2021 09:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bottomless_bowlOnce upon a time there was a rebellious young princess. She knew her brother would one day take up their father's mantle and so she was allowed to live free-spirited and bold. The princess preferred to spend her time doing things that would have gotten her scolded in court, even going so far as to sneak across the border to observe the people there, fascinated by differences that terrified others. She would sneak out more and more often until, finally, she dared to stay, swayed by her blooming love for a handsome young General she'd met.
He took her back to the Imperial capital and there she discovered her lover was no mere general but the King himself and once there he announced to his people his intention to marry her. The people, however, wondered, uncertain about the foreign princess' magic. Wondered what spell she might have put their king under to make him willing to place such a woman as his Queen.
They talked and whispered and the King's many courtesans, all of whom had hoped to garner his heart and approval began to plot. Dark murmurs swept through the palace and soon the princess was on edge, prepared to defend herself at every turn. There were many attempts on her life but the princess was clever and her new husband very protective. The wedding, which should have been a city wide celebration, was a quiet, closeted affair, the couple able only to trust a select few so close.
Still they were happy, madly in love and determined not to let anyone else get in the way of that. The Queen could not be a public figure, spending more and more time hidden away in the palace instead of in a prominent position at her husband's side. It worked out for the best that she was not always as visible to the people for when they discovered she was pregnant the response from the house was outspoken and cruel. The King would hear none of it. She was his wife and therefore, no matter how many sons he had sired among the women of his harem her child would have first rights to the throne.
A Queen was an inconvenience but ultimately changed little of the women's day to day lives. A mongrel prince was a threat to not only their livelihoods but the future of sons they had spent years grooming to be the perfect ruler... and to rely on them. The threats to the Queen's well being increased exponentially from then. Attempts on her life and the success of her pregnancy became a near daily occurrence.
In the following months when that child was born those attempts shifted to the infant. An infant is a delicate thing, after all, but between his mother's fierce protectiveness and his father's caution the Prince survived. Became more and more capable. The attempts never stopped, though he was blissfully ignorant as a toddler. But as the Imperial Prince grew so too did his elder brothers, children raised to understand that he was an abomination that should not be suffered to exist. An insult to their People and their pride.
The older boys would not be skilled or intelligent enough to make genuine attempts on the Prince's life until he was 7, their mothers' attempts far more subtle and easily hidden from a child, even one as clever as the young Prince was. The first try was sloppy and cruel, abuse that had the boy laid up in his mother's chambers for a week after, a wrist they worried might never heal.
There were many horrible ways to die in that unforgiving desert empire. Creatures whose venom could end a grown man with merely a drop. Plants so desperate to save themselves from the thirst and hunger of animals that they grow needles as long as a man's hand or kill anything that so much as brushes too close by with it's toxins. Extreme temperatures, dehydration, fierce competition for food by the wildlife. A dozen ways the land itself might complete the brothers' goal on any given day.
The Prince soon learned it was safer to escape the palace, escape those who wished him dead and instead give himself to the mercy of the city streets, knowing anyone that looked at him would know of his heritage, know he was of mixed blood and would likely make accusations or commit violence against him. Beatings and attempts to remove "thieving fingers" were far better than the more lethal actions that plagued him in the palace.
It never got better. No matter how the Queen wished to protect him. His parents understood early on that the best defense they could give him was the knowledge to protect himself. But he would always be on the outside, looking in at a people he could not help and could not join.
When the Queen learned of her brother's death back in her home country the Prince, only fifteen at the time, saw his way out. His escape. He accompanied his mother on a secret visit to her father, to mourn her brother... and the Prince escaped into a country where he would not be known, there would be no legion of siblings that want him dead, no merchants ready to separate him from his fingers for being too different.
Things he swiftly learned were not the same but still just as true on the other side of the mountains. His mother's people saw he was different and were just as cruel. Suspicious and eager to inflict violence upon the boy. No matter what he did or where he went he would be judged an outsider, never able to truly belong. It only made him more determined to find a way to bring the two Peoples together. So that there would no longer be any walls for him to look in from the outside.
But to do so he had to sacrifice something incredibly important. His ability to trust. To form meaningful connections. The dream he sought to bring to fruition would be decades in the making and every single person he met stood to potentially become a pawn in that great game of politics.
Anything was worth sacrificing, though, if another never had to suffer as he had.
He took her back to the Imperial capital and there she discovered her lover was no mere general but the King himself and once there he announced to his people his intention to marry her. The people, however, wondered, uncertain about the foreign princess' magic. Wondered what spell she might have put their king under to make him willing to place such a woman as his Queen.
They talked and whispered and the King's many courtesans, all of whom had hoped to garner his heart and approval began to plot. Dark murmurs swept through the palace and soon the princess was on edge, prepared to defend herself at every turn. There were many attempts on her life but the princess was clever and her new husband very protective. The wedding, which should have been a city wide celebration, was a quiet, closeted affair, the couple able only to trust a select few so close.
Still they were happy, madly in love and determined not to let anyone else get in the way of that. The Queen could not be a public figure, spending more and more time hidden away in the palace instead of in a prominent position at her husband's side. It worked out for the best that she was not always as visible to the people for when they discovered she was pregnant the response from the house was outspoken and cruel. The King would hear none of it. She was his wife and therefore, no matter how many sons he had sired among the women of his harem her child would have first rights to the throne.
A Queen was an inconvenience but ultimately changed little of the women's day to day lives. A mongrel prince was a threat to not only their livelihoods but the future of sons they had spent years grooming to be the perfect ruler... and to rely on them. The threats to the Queen's well being increased exponentially from then. Attempts on her life and the success of her pregnancy became a near daily occurrence.
In the following months when that child was born those attempts shifted to the infant. An infant is a delicate thing, after all, but between his mother's fierce protectiveness and his father's caution the Prince survived. Became more and more capable. The attempts never stopped, though he was blissfully ignorant as a toddler. But as the Imperial Prince grew so too did his elder brothers, children raised to understand that he was an abomination that should not be suffered to exist. An insult to their People and their pride.
The older boys would not be skilled or intelligent enough to make genuine attempts on the Prince's life until he was 7, their mothers' attempts far more subtle and easily hidden from a child, even one as clever as the young Prince was. The first try was sloppy and cruel, abuse that had the boy laid up in his mother's chambers for a week after, a wrist they worried might never heal.
There were many horrible ways to die in that unforgiving desert empire. Creatures whose venom could end a grown man with merely a drop. Plants so desperate to save themselves from the thirst and hunger of animals that they grow needles as long as a man's hand or kill anything that so much as brushes too close by with it's toxins. Extreme temperatures, dehydration, fierce competition for food by the wildlife. A dozen ways the land itself might complete the brothers' goal on any given day.
The Prince soon learned it was safer to escape the palace, escape those who wished him dead and instead give himself to the mercy of the city streets, knowing anyone that looked at him would know of his heritage, know he was of mixed blood and would likely make accusations or commit violence against him. Beatings and attempts to remove "thieving fingers" were far better than the more lethal actions that plagued him in the palace.
It never got better. No matter how the Queen wished to protect him. His parents understood early on that the best defense they could give him was the knowledge to protect himself. But he would always be on the outside, looking in at a people he could not help and could not join.
When the Queen learned of her brother's death back in her home country the Prince, only fifteen at the time, saw his way out. His escape. He accompanied his mother on a secret visit to her father, to mourn her brother... and the Prince escaped into a country where he would not be known, there would be no legion of siblings that want him dead, no merchants ready to separate him from his fingers for being too different.
Things he swiftly learned were not the same but still just as true on the other side of the mountains. His mother's people saw he was different and were just as cruel. Suspicious and eager to inflict violence upon the boy. No matter what he did or where he went he would be judged an outsider, never able to truly belong. It only made him more determined to find a way to bring the two Peoples together. So that there would no longer be any walls for him to look in from the outside.
But to do so he had to sacrifice something incredibly important. His ability to trust. To form meaningful connections. The dream he sought to bring to fruition would be decades in the making and every single person he met stood to potentially become a pawn in that great game of politics.
Anything was worth sacrificing, though, if another never had to suffer as he had.
