#like . like okay so maybe when she was younger she snuck books and fairy tales and read them where her creche couldnt see

[asterroses]

im goign to make another wyllmancer bcus my druid is not sticking in my brain n taurus is lost in the abyss so . HES GETTING A GITHYANKI KNIGHT WIFE thank u for ur time

[loving-jack-kelly]

oh! many thanks are proffered! conceivably, perhaps a royalty anecdote, if you so desire, to dispense it to one, by way of illustration, myself and others?

The way you talk is making my day please keep talking to me.

But also let’s write a royalty AU!

As a prince, Jack had plenty of people to chose from to romance.

Almost any of the nobles’ daughters, even a few of their sons, wouldn’t hesitate to respond is Jack said anything remotely romantic to them. Any number of the maids, the kitchen staff, the women who worked in the courtyard, would swoon if Jack smiled at them, wave daintily from a window if he glanced up at them, make a point of fixing everything exactly how he liked it, anything for attention from the prince.

That was the problem, though, wasn’t it? Attention from the prince not attention from Jack. They wanted his attention not for who he was, but for what he was.

Which was why Jack, taking a lead out of one of his old books of fairy tales, had gotten his hand on some old clothes (by giving new one to the stable boy who had owned them) and found a way out (by agreeing to keep the cook’s secret stash of royal leftovers secret) to the real world.

Beyond his tiny bubble of royal life, the world was entirely different. People laughed and smiled genuinely, not just to further an agenda. When Jack talked, people ignored him and went on with their days, rather than looking at him intently with glazed over eyes, smiling and nodding to anything he said.

When he was out in the city in old clothes, when he had dirt on his face and his hair wasn’t contained in his little gold circlet, people treated him just like any other kid on the streets.

The best part of that was definitely getting to talk to people. Pretty girls, of course, would once in awhile come up and talk to him, but they would talk to anyone who would listen. The working girls would come and ask him to help with their chores, carrying things they couldn’t. The girls who sold flowers would tuck a broken stem behind his ear, the girls who worked in bakeries gave him crusts.

His favorite interaction, though, quickly became the boy with the crutch who sat on a curb and wove flowers into crowns and bracelets and necklaces to sell for a small coin. The first time Jack interacted with him, he ended up with a thin daisy chain bracelet around his wrist and a smile on his face.

After that, Jack made a point of sitting next to the boy, Crutchie, every time he snuck out. Crutchie always had something funny and sunshiney to say, something to make Jack laugh, and he almost always had something made of flowers to give to Jack.

One day a buttercup to tuck into his hair, one day a tiny bouquet, one day a necklace, a bracelet.

“Did you hear? The prince’s birthday!” Crutchie called brightly as soon as he saw Jack approaching.

“Yeah,” Jack sighed, glancing back towards the castle.

“I hear he’s having a huge party tonight! Everyone’s coming, from all over! I think I’m going to move closer later.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a big deal,” Jack had left among a flurry of activity, people getting rooms ready for guests, cooks rushing around making last minute adjustments to the food, and so, so many people trying to get Jack ready, as though it would take all day. He hated it, he hated how claustrophobic it made him feel, and he had needed to get out.

“Oh, I have something for you! Look-a crown! Because, get it? Your name is Jack and so is the prince’s, and it’s his birthday!” Crutchie grinned proudly and held up his creation, a ring of brightly colored flowers weaving in and around themselves into a crown surprisingly similar to Jack’s actual circlet. Crutchie reached up and tucked the crown into Jack’s hair, slipping the stems that still stuck out in to make it stay in place.

“Thanks, Crutchie.” Jack smiled gently.

“You know what’s funny?”

“What?” Crutchie smiled thoughtfully, still tucking in the last of the crown.

“You. You only show up once in awhile, but when you do, you always find me. I don’t know anything about you except your name, but you’re obviously from around here because you have our accent. You just like to listen to me. That’s funny.” Crutchie’s bright grin came back as he stepped back and looked at his handiwork. “Also funny, you share a name with the prince, and also look kinda like him. Although, I like flowers better than gold, I think.” Jack almost froze, but recovered quickly. He knew that things would change as soon as Crutchie knew he was the prince, and he didn’t want that.

“You know, I think you might have a bias.” Crutchie laughed brightly, leaning comfortably against his crate of flowers and beginning to weave a new creation.

“Maybe.” For a few minutes, Jack just watched Crutchie’s nimble fingers create first a small bracelet, then a longer necklace. “I dunno, they’re nicer. When he comes through here all decked out in gold, it’s announcing, hey, I’m richer than you, I’ve got it better than you, look at my fancy crown. But when I see you in a flower crown, it isn’t any of that, it’s just happy little flowers in a circle. I think the prince could use a flower crown, maybe. Maybe so he could be a good king, it would help him to know more what we do, instead of just what he does.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Their conversation paused while Crutchie sold a few of his little pieces to a woman passing by, exchanging small talk as well as money and flowers.

“I think even the prince sometimes looks uncomfortable with it, sometimes. Last week, when he rode through on the horse? He made eye contact with me, I think, and he just looked…sad. Lonely, I guess.”

“He probably is. It would be lonely, living up there with the only kids his age wanting to be friends with him for power, instead of for who he is. And maybe he just wants to be friends with somebody who doesn’t want that.” Jack said.

“I know I want friends who are friends with me not out of pity.” Crutchie said sadly. “A lot of people just are nice because they feel bad, either because I’m poor or because of my leg.” He looked up at Jack like he was trying to gauge his reaction.

“I’m not friends with you for that. I’m friends with you because the first time we met you gave me daisies and an apple. You’re nice, and funny. Fun to talk to.” Crutchie smiled again, brighter than before.

“Cool.” He bumped a shoulder against Jack’s. “I though you wouldn’t do that.”

“Never.” Jack bumped him back, but looked up at the clock and sighed. “I have to go, Crutch. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Come back sooner than this time. It’s been weeks.”

“I know, sorry. I’ll try.”

“Bye, then.” Crutchie waved as Jack walked away, heading back towards the palace.

As he walked, Jack carefully pulled every loose stem from where they had been tucked in his hair, keeping the crown intact and holding it gently. Slipping inside was harder than usual, he was almost caught by at least several people, but he made it to his room and hung the crown gently behind his clothes, with his collection of other dried gifts.

“Your highness? Your father says he wants you downstairs in half an hour, and that I’m to make sure you’re dressed and cleaned.”

“Come in then, Jamey.” The boy came in and took in Jack’s dirty face. “Don’t ask, I’m fine, just get my clothes ready and I’ll wash up.”

“Okay.” Jamey shrugged and went into the closet, pulling out the brand new jacket and pants that Jack had just finished getting fit to him the day before. “Your highness?”

“Just call me Jack, please, Jamey. But what?”

“You know there’s a whole bunch of flowers behind all your clothes?”

“Yeah, I know. They’re fine, I’m drying them to save.”

“Okay.” Jamey was a quiet boy, and Jack had known him for years. His mother was one of the head housekeepers, and he’d been working for long as Jack could remember, just helping where he was needed. He wouldn’t tell secrets for anything.

Jack came back from his washing table, clean wherever anyone could see, the dirt and pollen gone from his face and hands. Jamey helped him get his shirt and on, his jacket buttoned. 

“I can get the rest on myself, thanks.”

“Okay.” Jamey paused at the door. “Happy birthday…Jack.” Jack smiled at him.

“Thanks, Jamey. I’ll see you later.”

“Of course.”

The part, of course, was miserable.

Well, the food was good, and there were a couple of people Jack didn’t mind.

The tiny child king from Ruviel, a year younger than Jack and already in charge, had marched right up, glaring at the lord who was following him, and introduced himself as Spot, saying that he was only here because his regent said it would be a waste of time, seeing as how Jack wouldn’t be a powerful king, and he wanted to leave his country for a little while to get away from the lords who thought they were smarter than him. Jack liked his honesty, and he was funny, too.

And Princess Katherine, who came over and made a joke about how much she hated royal birthday parties before drifting around, looking perfectly at home except when she made eye contact with Jack and mouthed “help me.” 

But overall, Jack agreed with Crutchie. All those people, wearing as much gold and lace and scarlet and purple fabric as they could manage, just to prove they could. There wasn’t a single simple dress, no undecorated swathes of fabric, not neck or hand unadorned with a heavy ring or necklace. Everyone in the room, while smiling and laughing and acting like they were having fun, were really here to prove they were rich enough, influential enough, enough, to be invited to the crown prince’s birthday party.

As soon as it wasn’t incredibly impolite to do so, Jack quietly slipped away. He knew he wouldn’t be missed, as people sidled up to his parents and talked, or danced the night away.

He politely talked to a few people, eventually making it to his room. His jacket was off in seconds, and he flopped onto his bed, sighing. His open closet door caught his attention as he saw the flower crown hanging in the back. 

He sighed again, wishing that the simplicity Crutchie saw in a crown was more of what his life was like. 

“A happy little circle of flowers.” He whispered to himself, closing his eyes and wishing.

It was almost two weeks before Jack found time to slip into the city again and visit with Crutchie.

“I sold a lot of flowers on his birthday.” Crutchie commented, weaving together more flowers. “I got people to help move my stuff, and all the people watching the rich people get here bought things so they could feel fancier.”

“There were a lot of rich people.”

“I know! They all came all dressed up, in their fancy carriages and all! Did you watch?” Jack hesitated.

“A little.”

“From where? I didn’t see you anywhere, and I looked.”

“You looked for me?”

“Of course! I’m always watching for you.” Crutchie smiled like everyone was always constantly looking for their friend who only showed up once in awhile. “You’re only my best friend, Jack.”

“I’m your best friend?”

“Well, sure, you let me give you flowers, you listen when I talk, you laugh at my jokes, and every time you’re around you com see me. I think that make you my best friend.” Crutchie’s smile, impossibly, brightened when he saw Jack smile.

“I…thanks, Crutch. You’re my best friend, too.”

“Cool.” Again, they slipped into an easy silence while Jack watched Crutchie work.

“Oh! I have something for you!” Jack burst out, reaching into his pocket. “I figured you always give me something, so I’d bring you something for once.” He looked away while Crutchie unfolded the paper Jack had handed him, trying not to be obvious about waiting to see his reaction.

“Did you draw this?” Crutchie asked, tracing the lines with his finger.

“Yeah, it’s-”

“The prince. But in my flower crown instead of his.”

“Yeah. You said…you said you thought he could do with a flower crown for once, so I gave him one for you.”

“It’s lovely, Jacky.” Crutchie folded the drawing carefully, slipping it into his own pocket. “Thank you.” Crutchie looked like he was about to say more, but instead he blushed and look back down at his creation. “I’m trying something new.” He finally remarked. “A fancier kind of necklace. See, these parts will connect, if I did them right.” His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he interlocked the four pieces he had made.

Jack found himself watching Crutchie’s face more than his hands, and he barely contained a sigh. He hated when he got crushes, always, but noticing his on Crutchie was worse than normal. Not only was Crutchie a boy, making it much less likely for the crush to be returned, but he also didn’t even know who Jack was. 

And if that changed, so would every interaction.

“There! Look!” Crutchie reached up and over, draping the delicate chain over Jack’s neck. “Pretty.”

“I like the flowers you used.”

“Thanks! I found them and Miss Rosaline told me that they would…be useful.” Jack didn’t miss the hesitation, but also didn’t know what it meant, so he chose to ignore it. “The round petals are white lilacs, and the spikier ones are jasmine.”

“I love them.” Crutchie blushed harder and kicked the ground in front of him a little bit.

“I’m glad. I love your drawing.”

“I’ll bring you another one next time.” Jack smiled.

“Really?”

“Sure. What do you want?”

“Anything, if it’s no bother.”

“Nah, I draw when I get bored, so I’ll pick one for you.”

“Thank you.”

The next time Jack saw Crutchie, he couldn’t even say anything, because he was riding through the city on his horse, in the middle of the train of officials and such, coming back from some stupid official thing that even though Jack was supposed to be learning how to run his own country for when he was king, nobody listened to him talk and nobody taught him anything.

While they were riding, Jack noticed Crutchie laughing with another boy in the crowd. Rather than sitting down with his crate, he was walking, watching the group go past. 

Crutchie looked up and met Jack’s eye, and his face turned quizzical when he spotted Jack looking directly at him. 

Jack touched his circlet, smiling slightly, and then froze when he saw the confusion on Crutchie’s face bloom into recognition and something else, something angrier. He looked away quickly, hoping against all hope that he’d misread the expression.

The next day he got away as soon as possible, barely catching up with people before pleading with the cook to not tell anyone that he was slipping out, and walked as fast as he could towards Crutchie’s corner.

“Crutchie!” Crutchie didn’t look up, focusing on his hands.

“Jack. How was your trip?”

“It’s not very long-”

“I meant the one to wherever. Far away. Complete with horses and suits and your little gold crown.”

“Crutchie, I-”

“You don’t have to lie anymore, Jack. Unless you have some other explanation for why the prince, the crown prince, rode past on his fancy white horse and smiled directly at me and tipped his crown, I know you’re the prince. Nobody but you knows my think with crowns.”

“I…sorry.” Jack finished in a whisper, sitting down on the other side of the crate of flowers sadly. “I just…”

“Lied.” Crutchie still didn’t look up, but Jack noticed his hands weren’t moving, just holding long stemmed flowers still. “You lied.”

“You never asked-” Jack defended himself weakly, knowing it didn’t mean much. Choosing not to tell the whole truth ended up being the same thing as lying.

“I didn’t think I had to. You seemed like an honest guy. An honest guy who just liked talking to me. What was it really, you needed to learn more about the people who don’t get to live with all they want all the time? You had to prove you cared about your people?”

“No! I like you, Crutchie, you really are my best friend! Please believe that!” Jack could feel tears welling in his eyes.

“I did. I want to. Why did you lie?” Jack tried to collect himself before answering.

“It’s suffocating, up there. I have everything I want except freedom. I go anywhere, people are there, I do anything, people are telling me not to. I want to eat something, ten people are there to tell me why I can’t have this or that, I have to explain why I do anything. I want to sit in my room and draw, people are there to tell me I can’t, because I have to be downstairs. That stupid birthday party was exactly how you described it. People dressed up as fancy as they could be, talking to me just to prove they could, wanting to prove they were big enough to be invited. Nobody likes me for me, nobody ever has. People like me because I’m the prince, and you liked me because I’m Jack, because you liked me. I never had that before, Crutchie. ever. The closest I have is Jamey, and he’s only my friend because he thinks he has to be.” Jack barely paused for breath. “Nobody listens to me, Crutchie, that thing I just came back from was supposed to help me learn  how to be a better king and instead I sat at a table feeling small while the big kids talked over me and refused to acknowledge me as somebody who has a brain in his head! And you never did that, you listened to me and talked to me like I was a normal kid and I loved that, Crutchie. You’re the only person in the whole world who really knows me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell the truth, I didn’t want to lose that.” Jack looked down at his own hands when he heard Crutchie sniffle a little bit. “I…I have another drawing for you, if you still want it.” He said quietly, unfolding his paper and pushing it across the top of the crate between them.

Crutchie picked it up gently, almost timidly, and looked at it carefully.

“It’s me.” He said softly. “In a flower field.” Jack nodded, and Crutchie huffed out a tiny laugh. “Do you know the language of flowers, Jack?” Jack hesitated.

“I…flowers can talk?” He was genuinely confused, and pleasantly surprised by the larger laugh it got from Crutchie.

“Not quite. You can use them to talk. Like that last necklace I gave you? White lilacs and jasmine. White lilacs mean innocence and jasmine means grace. Elegance. That’s what the necklace was.” He lifted up the flowers he was still holding in his hands, letting Jack see they were long stemmed roses. “Roses. Red roses. They…I mean I guess everyone knows what they mean. Love. Romance. Hope, for me. I was saving them” His face turned bittersweet as he talked. “I brought them today because I was sure you wouldn’t come.”

“You…saving them for somebody else?” That hurt more than Jack thought it would.

“I was saving them for who I thought you were. The boy who I thought I knew. The boy I fell in love with. Not the prince.” Crutchie’s voice was steady but when he looked over, Jack saw a tear fall off the tip of his nose.

“You…fell in love with me?”

“I fell in love with who I thought you were. With who you let me believe you were.”

“That’s who I am, Crutchie, you know me, you do!”

“Then who’s that, up there?” Crutchie pointed towards the palace, angry. Angry wasn’t a word Jack would have ever associated with him, but that’s what he was. Angry. “Who’s that person sitting on that throne, who’s face is on these coins, who wears that stupid circle of gold on his head? Because if this is you, then that’s not!”

“You’re right!” Jack burst out. “You’re right! That’s not me, Crutchie, it’s not! That kid, that perfect kid sitting on that damn throne is not me! It’s never been me, nobody knows me! Except you, dammit, you’re the only person who really, truly knows me! You fell in love with the real me, the kid who…who lit the throne room curtains on fire when he was ten to get attention, who loves chocolate and pie, who just wants a friend! That’s who I am, Crutchie, that’s who you know!”

“Is it?” Crutchie asked sadly. “How do I know that.”

“When I was ten I set the curtains on fire so somebody would pay me attention that wasn’t about my lessons, when I was twelve I convinced the cooks to give me an entire cake so I could eat something I enjoyed and I ate so much I got sick, when I was fourteen I went to my first stupid state dinner and watched the officials be completely confused by the pranks I pulled. When I was sixteen I gave a stable boy new clothes in exchange for his and snuck out the kitchen door to find a friend, and I found you, and dammit Crutchie you are my best friend. I come visit because I care, about you, not about anything else. I don’t care what people think about me, I just want…you.” Jack got quieter the longer he talked, ending in almost a whisper, looking down at his own hands. “I just want you, Crutchie, I’m sorry I lied.”

“What do you mean you want me?”

“I mean I want you to be my friend. I want what we had before, that casual closeness. I want to be able to sit next to you and talk, I want for you to put flower crowns in my hair, and necklaces around my neck, I want you tell me more about the language of flowers, maybe I want more than that, maybe I want to hold you close to me and be able to kiss you and…and love you, maybe I do. I don’t know, Crutchie, but I don’t want…this, I don’t want to be scared you’re going to pick a new corner and I’ll never see you again, I don’t want to lose everything. If I have to start over, I will, I want you to be my friend.” Crutchie met Jack’s eye for the first time.

“You mean it?”

“Yes, Crutchie, I mean it.” Jack almost reached for Crutchie’s hand, but stopped himself.

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Crutchie stood up, slowly, and reached down to help Jack up. 

“Come with me?”

“Uh…yeah. Do you-” Crutchie let out a piercing whistle and a boy about their age was running up instantly.

“Bring it home, Finch?”

“Sure.” The boy picked up the crate and walked away with it, leaving Jack and Crutchie alone.

“He’s one of my friends. Just follow me?” Jack nodded, and followed Crutchie through the streets, watching the buildings get more and more dilapidated and far apart until they finally broke past the city walls into a field. “This is where my flowers come from. All sorts grow here, and we plant more.”

“We?”

“I’m not the only one selling flowers. Some girls sell bouquets, and me and a few other boys all sell things like mine. Like Finch. But this is where all our flowers come from.”

“Wow.”

“It’s just like how you drew it, see?” Crutchie waded out into the flowers and sat down, almost disappearing. “Come?” Jack sat down next to him, bright sunlight falling through the tall grass and flowers and lighting up Crutchie’s face in front of him, making Jack’s stomach flip. He wasn’t sure if it was from fear of losing him or the way being so close to him felt, but his stomach was turning somersaults. “Mostly we come here on Sundays, while people are inside. Nobody notices us leave, and nobody bothers us when we come back with our flowers. But that means nobody comes here other days, mostly. So we’re alone.”

“It’s pretty here.” Jack said, watching Crutchie lie back and look up at the sky for a moment before sitting back up.

“Yeah. I like it.” He was quiet for a second, and his silence was almost the easy silence they’d shared before, but with an undertone of something else. “Did you mean it, Jack? I mean really, really mean it. Everything you said about me and how…close you wanted to be?”

“Every word.” Crutchie leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. 

“Then here.” He pushed the roses he was still holding towards Jack. “These are for you.” Jack took them, four red roses, and sniffed them. “There was supposed to be more, but they weren’t as pretty.” Crutchie said, almost shyly.

“These are beautiful.” Jack breathed, and now he could identify why his stomach was determined to become and acrobat inside him. Crutchie was close, so close, close enough for Jack to be able to lean forward and kiss him if he wanted to, and it almost looked like he wanted to. 

“Red roses. Romance, love, longing, and desire.” Crutchie said quietly, meeting Jack’s eyes again. “Prove you meant it.” He challenged, and Jack took the challenge, kissing him gently and quickly before pulling away.

“Like that?”

“Perfect.” Crutchie smiled, a big, real, genuine smile for the first time that day, and leaned in to kiss Jack again.

And when Jack finally made it back to the palace, hours and hours after he left, the cooks admonishing him for taking so long they’d had to cover for him, it was with four long stemmed red roses in his hand to hang in his closet, and flowers in his hair, and grass stuck to his back. It was with kissed red lips and a smile on his face, and a promise of so much more to come.

And when Jack had finally pulled Crutchie up through the kitchens and bluntly informed his parents that he was seeing Crutchie whether they liked it or not, he spent the day showing Crutchie how he really lived, the secret hiding places and places to cause mischief, the ways he’s pulled pranks.

And when his father finally accepted that Crutchie wasn’t going anywhere, and his mother finally gave his blessing, when Jack finally stood in front of the rich people on one side and the flower boys and girls and workers on the other, it was with a crown woven of fresh flowers tucked into his hair and laughter in his voice. 

When Prince Jack was finally able to be the same person as just plain Jack, Jack was finally happy. Really truly happy. Not just content, but happy.