#my 2024 is good so far thank you!! i have a job im writin a lot now were doin pretty fine!!

[raineandsky]

Could you write a story where a king who outlawed magical beings (like fae, elves, sorcerers, etc Bc they’ve tried to kill him multiple times ) has a trial for a young magical creature found in his lands, but the creature isn’t evil, didn’t even KNOW they were trespassing, and is terrified they’re gonna be executed or tortured or something. But the king doesn’t hurt it, since the magical being didn’t mean any harm? Could turn into found family or he just lets it go or something

I hope 2024 is going well for you!! Sorry if this prompt is hectic/worded bad haha

hello again!! it's always a delight to see you in my inbox :) thank you for the request, i hope you enjoy it!

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For a moment it looks like a child is thrown at the king’s feet. They’re small, frail-looking, and sobbing between short, forced breaths.

“We caught it on the outskirts of your lands. Trespassing,” the knight says. His hand rests on his sword, his gaze turned down to the creature like he wants to eviscerate them there and then. “We’re lucky we found it when we did. What’s your defence, freak?”

The only response is more sobbing. The knight’s gaze turns to the king, almost bored. “Shall I execute it, your majesty?”

“No!” The creature lurches up, and the knight has to grapple for them to stop them leaping straight for the king. “No, please, I– I didn’t know—”

The knight pushes them back to the floor and they land hard. A whimper leaks from their mouth as they collide with the merciless tile. From here the king can see the translucent wings on their back—torn, fractured, probably beyond repair. He can’t help but wonder when that happened.

“No need to be so harsh,” he says shortly. The knight stares at him like he’s lost his mind.

He has a feeling, though. Most of the mystical beings that came to his court with the intent of murder were relatively plain-faced about it. He gets the impression they’re not good liars. Not many of them can cry this violently on cue, at least.

“What is your business in the lands you are exiled from, creature?”

The creature glances up at him, seemingly startled to be addressed. Then their gaze turns away, nervous, skittish. “I– I didn’t know,” they force out after a long moment. “I was looking for a creek, and I– I thought I heard water but I didn’t realise I’d overstepped and your men were guarding the riverside and I’m so sorry please please don’t kill me I swear I didn’t—”

“Why were you looking for a creek?”

Their eyes flit back towards him, unsure, like they’re waiting for the trap to close its jaws around them. They courageously swallow down another sob. “Music,” they say eventually. “It isn’t the same without the water flowing through it.”

The knight scoffs. “You play?” the king asks. 

“Your majesty,” the knight cuts in quickly. “With respect, please, don’t entertain it. We should behead it before it has the chance to act against you.”

“We ruled that the mystical beings would face trial, did we not?” the king snaps. “With respect, knight, allow me to follow through on my own laws.”

The knight dips his head awkwardly, and the king returns his interest to the creature beneath him. Their gaze is locked to the floor; being caught in the middle of a conversation about their fate clearly isn’t a favourable place to be. “Your instrument, creature, where is it?”

The creature’s wings flutter at the question. Their gaze pulls to the knight behind them, snapping back when he returns it with hatred. “It– It got destroyed.”

The king’s eyes find the knight’s. “He destroyed it?”

“I thought it was a weapon,” the knight defends weakly.

The creature sniffles, their eyes wet again. “If you let me go, you’ll never see me again,” they say desperately. “Please, I swear, I’ll never come back.”

“And your wings, creature,” the king says, purposefully ignoring their words, “what happened to them?”

Their wings quiver slightly again. They keep their eyes carefully pinned to the floor. “I– I scared your men,” they whisper. “They were afraid I would hurt them.”

The king can practically see the scene. A magical creature, a tune in their hands and a song on their lips, stumbling upon the king’s men. They’d probably tried to escape, probably realised their mistake too late. The king’s men, with orders to protect him from the magical beings that came for his throat, pouncing on opportunity. Breaking them beyond repair and throwing them at his feet in the hopes of praise.

The king only outlawed these creatures. If he’d known how his men were enacting his laws, he would have altered them much sooner. How many of these beings are scared, damaged, dead, because his knights leapt at the excuse for bloodshed?

The king heaves a deep breath. “Knight,” he starts, and both he and the creature tense. “You are excused.”

The knight’s face twitches. “Your majesty—”

“You,” the king repeats, “are excused.”

There’s a still moment where he thinks the knight will have the gall to disobey. Then he dips into a polite bow, stepping away.

“I’ll be right outside, your majesty,” he says pointedly, and with that he slips out the door and leaves the two of them alone. The creature’s gaze burns into the tile below them.

“I have the finest woodworkers at my disposal, creature,” the king says once the echo of the door has dispelled into nothing. “Tell me what your instrument looks like, and I will have it remade.”

“O–Oh,” the creature says shortly. “I, uh, th–that’s very kind, but it’s, um, made of a particular wood. Its magic is held in the care my family has shown the tree for centuries.”

“Then my woodworkers will carve it out for you.” He waves a hand dismissively. “If it is required to repair what my knights have wrought on you, it will be done.”

“T–Thank you.” The creature glances at the empty room behind them. “So, uh, am I free, or…”

“There is a creek not far from this palace,” the king continues idly. “Your music would sound wonderful within these walls.”

The creature falters at that. Their mouth works for a moment. “Huh?”

“As my court musician, you would be protected under oath and my rule,” the king explains casually. “My knights cannot touch you within these walls.”

“That’s kind,” the creature repeats quietly, “but I don’t– I don’t think I could—”

“Nonsense.” The king gets to his feet, waving for the creature to follow him. “You would be safe and able to play music as you desire. I will hear no more of it—you shall stay here.”

The creature stumbles to their feet as he gets closer. “O–Okay.”

The king glances at their wings as they stand. “We shall see the woodworkers,” he says thoughtfully, “but I feel you should visit my doctor first.”

The king leaves them in the medicine hall, under the careful watch of a different knight, so he can batter the door down to his legal advisor’s office. The poor man looks rather startled to see him. “Your majesty,” he just about says.

“Rise, advisor,” the king demands, “I have a law I must amend.”