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The family was already down one heir and the next had decided to go crowd surfing. This one, who’d gone from terrifying Ted by finding new hiding places on the grounds as a child to slipping his detail in his teens, desperate to find out what life was like for a ‘normal’ person. This one was now bodysurfing in a crowd where a sharp poke from any knife wielding hand could have him dead before Ted could get there.
While many of Liam’s exploits made Ted want to hold him as well as throttle him, there was no excuse for this one. It would just be throttling, this time. While he probably couldn’t get away with that, he would definitely be trying something new, even if it cost him his job. It would be worth if it Liam’s recklessness didn’t cost him his life.
When Liam had been young, it had fallen upon Ted to not only see to the boy’s security, but also to read him stories, act in his plays when he could, punish him when he attempted to run away to join a normal family, and tuck him in at night so that he didn’t want to run so much.
Their majesties had essentially left Liam to Ted, and were concerned that Liam not do things like stick out his tongue in public or look visibly bored at ceremonies. Ted was concerned with things like a little boy whose uncle called him “The spare” to his face, the little boy who wanted nothing but a mother and father who would build a tree house for him and sit with him when he was sick.
It had been difficult to watch that little boy who really only had him as a father figure turn into a young man who not only escaped his security detail to go to the cinema, but also, later, escaped with alcohol and drugs. As time had gone on, Ted had had to move from withholding toys and restricting game time as punishments to mere dressings down as Liam’s travel outside the palace increased and Ted’s abilities to enforce penalties on a growing, and then grown, prince decreased.
Ted knew the prince still felt affection for him, sought his approval and dreaded the dressings down. But the dressings down clearly weren’t enough. He hoped the prince’s affection for him would be enough to see him through what he had planned after this crowd surfing incident, because he honestly didn’t know what else to do to keep him alive.
Liam seemed to know he was for it as soon as Ted made his way over to him in the crowds. The glance down, the bitten lip, the slight flinch when Ted asked Liam for a word in private all indicated Ted was projecting the fury he felt so strongly he was surprised it hadn’t shorted out his communications devices.
Ted stalked ahead, leading Liam to a tent that was empty but for Cyrus, who he asked to depart so that he could conduct a security procedure he described in boring detail to hasten the man’s departure (along with a few choice bottles of booze).
When Liam walked in, lip already bitten, Ted allowed himself to raise his voice to vent some of his anger before he got started. “Have you lost your god-damn mind?!”
Liam did not reply, only looked down.
Ted closed the distance between them, noting with relief he was surprised to feel that Liam didn’t step back. “Liam,” he allowed his voice to soften, and Liam looked up at last, still chagrined, but slightly reassured.
“Do you know what could have happened?” Ted asked.
Liam’s cocky armor started to slide back into place. “Could’ve been kidnapped and held hostage for my mother’s next garden party invitation, I suppose.”
Ted glared at him, resolve newly cemented. “Or someone in the crowd could have nicked your carotid with a flick of the wrist and Marcus wouldn’t have been able to get to you in time. The crowd would have borne a corpse to your mother’s feet.”
Liam winced, glancing down once more at the ground. “Ted,” he spoke more sincerely now. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I just…my mother told me to ‘Behave perfectly,’ and she doesn’t care about Robert. She doesn’t care about me. I just wanted to get back at her.”
Looking at Liam now, Ted saw the boy left behind at the palace when he had chickenpox on his birthday as the entire family, along with Eleanor, went to festivities that had been organized by Lord Algion. His mother had sent Ted to wish him a happy birthday. Ted sighed.
“And that’s why it will happen again, Liam, unless I do something to stop it,” Ted replied, hands starting to undo his belt, his intentions clear.
Liam….gawped, was the word for it. “You’ve never….you can’t! I won’t allow it.”
Ted eyed him while pulling the belt out of its loops and doubling the strap. “You’re right. I can’t,” he said steadily and undeterred.“What I can do is ensure that none of your mates receive the security clearance to see you. What I can also do is tell their majesties that a credible threat has been received against you and keep you in the palace. Additionally,” he said, knowing Liam would like this detail least of all, “I can assign more guards to your detail so you can’t even piss in private. It’s your choice.”
Liam had gone quite green at the prospect of being boxed in in this way. “Why?” he asked.
“Because I don’t want you to die. It’s as simple as that.”
Liam’s eyes darted back and forth between Ted and the strap. The rest of him didn’t move. Ted remained nearly as motionless, waiting to see whether he was in fact right about Liam, or whether the prince would elect to have him dismissed rather than choose either option.
After what felt like a few minutes but was only a few seconds, Ted asked, “Well?”
Liam bit his lip and eyed the strap again. “You’ve taken your belt off already. It seems you knew all along which I’d choose,” he said, with a faint smile.
“Yes. How long have I known you?”
They exchanged a brief smile of understanding, then Liam breathed deeply, breaking the moment too soon for Ted’s comfort.
“What happens now? How do we do this?” Liam asked, hands clenching in his pockets.
“You’ll drop your trousers and pants and bend over that table.”
“Ted, no.”
“Yes, Liam,” Ted said firmly. “I’ve not done this before and I need to see what type of marks I’m leaving, not to mention where I’m leaving them.”
Liam flinched at the mention of marks, almost setting off a sympathy flinch in Ted. “I won’t give you anything you can’t bear. That’s why I need to see. Trust me.”
Liam shook his head, swallowed, then nodded, hands going to his own belt. Ted raised a hand for him to stop. “I’m going to need to call Marcus in. I can’t protect you adequately while I’m….disciplining you, and you need to be protected at all times.”
“Maybe he’ll protect me from you,” Liam tried to joke, though he was bright red with mortification and his pulse was now visible in his throat.
After a word on discretion from Ted, Marcus was set up to watch the door while Liam and Ted faced the rear of the tent. Ted was aware that Marcus would be able to see Liam’s face given their positions, and warned him not to pay him any mind, not wanting to cause Liam any undue embarrassment.
Marcus had looked briefly incredulous, then mortified—perhaps fearing Ted would extend this new disciplinary regime to his staff—but took up position guarding the entrance while Liam took his position over the table with as much grace as he could muster.
Ted eyed the prince, bare and waiting for him, with a sense of unease. If Liam hated him after this, not only could he lose his job, but he’d scuttle any progress made in convincing him to take his protection more seriously.
Still. Liam looked up to him, and always had done. And he would be harsh, but not abusive. He would also provide comfort after, if Liam would allow him to. And it would be worth it if it prevented Liam from being taken, being stabbed, shot, garroted.
Thus resolved, Ted stepped closer and pushed Liam’s shirt up, exposing his backside and trying to ignore the shiver that went through Liam as a result.
He kept his hand on Liam’s back, a steadying presence, and asked whether he was ready.
Liam nodded, forgoing a verbal response. Ted allowed it, this time, and raised the belt to his shoulder before bringing it down with a thwack that had Liam jerking forward under his hand.
Liam drew in a sharp breath, but seemed to settle after that as Ted methodically striped his bottom.
The boy was being stubborn, Ted observed after he’d run out of un-strapped flesh to strike. The set of his shoulders was tense, as though he was going to fight, and he hadn’t uttered a sound through a beating that must ache like the devil. He was brave, for all he was sometimes foolish.
Ted continued to watch the welts appear, a hint of sympathy mixed in with his frustration.
He was waiting for tears, for an apology, for any indication, verbally or via body language, that the lesson had sunken in, that Liam wouldn’t foolishly risk his safety, only to find Liam him rigid, unresponsive. It was as if he wasn’t even there, as if Ted wasn’t risking everything by punishing him to keep him alive.
Ted had just raised his arm to go over the marks he had already made when Marcus cleared his throat.
“Sir. I think he’s had enough.”
Ted lowered his arm, setting the strap on the table by Liam’s side, then moved around to step in front of him, increasingly worried about what he’d find. Marcus must have been concerned to interfere, and Liam had stopped responding to him. He could be in shock, he could be…
He’d bitten his bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed and his eyes were screwed tightly shut, tears streaming out of them.
“Christ, Liam!” The words were out of Ted’s mouth before he could stop them and Liam flinched, but retained his position.
Ted ran his hand through the boy’s hair and sighed, ensuring his voice was gentle. “Why didn’t you apologize or ask me to stop?”
He knew, even before he’d finished speaking, that he’d be the recipient of a royal glare. And he was.
“I know, I know,” he said before Liam could gather up his indignation enough to speak. “It would be undignified and you wanted to prove how much you could take. Is that right?”
Liam nodded, then cleared his throat. “And….And I wanted to take what you thought I deserved.”
At that, Ted pulled him up and into a hug, stroking his back the same way he had when Liam had been younger and called to him about his nightmares. He knew he was likely getting Liam’s blood on his suit and grinned joylessly at the irony of doing this to prevent Liam’s blood from being spilled, only to be stained with it anyway.
“Oh, Liam,” he sighed, breath ruffling Liam’s hair. “You took it well, so well. I should have halted earlier. I thought you were being….,” he stopped, ashamed. “I thought you were being stubborn.”
Liam ceased his burrowing into Ted’s shirtfront to look up at him for a moment. “Well, I was being stubborn. But not for the reason you thought.”
“No,” Ted nodded, and stepped back, reaching up to smooth away traces of Liam’s tears.
He turned away so Liam could dress himself in privacy, facing the entrance along with Marcus, who was studiously avoiding looking at either of them.
Liam turned to Marcus. “You really did save me from Ted,” he commented somewhat shakily, cockiness sounding slightly forced. “Thank you. I owe you a drink.”
“Any time, sir,” Marcus replied coolly, pretending not to notice. “And you owe me several.”
Liam grinned at that, then asked for some privacy. “Can you give me a moment alone with Ted?”
Marcus left with alacrity.
This was it, Ted thought. Now that he was dressed and reasonably composed, Liam would tell him to “Walk away.”
“I’m sorry, Ted,” Liam began. Yes, this was it. The end of his job, the end of protecting Liam. “I wasn’t thinking,” Liam continued. “And you’re a badass, risking your job like that.” He smiled. “Not everyone would beat their future king.”
“No,” Ted replied, relief and affection and pride warring within him. “But not every future king would crowd surf at a garden party, either.”
“Only the cool ones,” Liam grinned, all signs that he’d been disciplined gone. He looked fresh as a daisy, minus slightly red-rimmed eyes and the trace of the bloody lip he’d given himself. He looked like he knew Ted loved him.
Liam turned to leave. “I assume I have permission to return to the party, unless you’d like me to stand in the corner?”
“You, young sir, are pushing it,” Ted replied. “No corner. And also no drugs, no dodging your detail, no crowd surfing, no—“
“Fun?” Liam broke in.
“No sitting down again if you do any of those things,” Ted replied without missing a beat.
“You’d do that again?” Liam asked, surprised, but not protesting.
Ted reached for his belt, not replying right away, and started pulling it back through the loops, aware Liam couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“Yes,” Ted replied quietly. “I’d do it differently, but I’d still do it, if it helped keep you safe. Maybe I need to read about it, see what—“
Liam looked horrified. “Look, while you consider all of this, I’m going. I need a drink.”
“Don’t have too many!” Ted called, unable to keep the grin off his face when Liam, without looking back, gave him the middle finger.
They were all right. Liam didn’t hate him, and might be a little more safety conscious now. The lad was fair and didn’t hold a grudge. He might just make a fine king. If Ted didn’t eventually give in and just throttle him.