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Avery is tired. Tired of lessons, tired of banquets and politics. It's exhausting, being a prince, and he's not even the heir!
He just wants a break. A short one. Just one night. Just one.
Of course, a break requires him to be alone. But he's never left alone. He's always accompanied by someone. Servants, guards, attendants, and people just trying to suck up to him to get his fathers favor.
Thankfully, Avery is clever. The moon hangs high in the shy, illuminating his room. Avery cannot leave through the door, thats guarded. Nor can he leave through the window, that's locked. He can, however, leave through the old servants hallways. Nobody uses them anymore, not even the servants or guards, so it's perfect.
He gets lost immediately. Unfortunately, while he is clever, Avery is also…very directionally challenged.
It takes him a long time, and a lot of brute force of will, to finally make it out of the hallways and to the gardens. But he managed it. Somehow.
The sight is worth the struggle. He's never seen the garedens at night—his window overlooks the front gates, not the back garden— but it's a sight for sore eyes. Moonlight dances on the petals and leaves of each and every flower, tree, and shrub. The colors all meld with the light to create a delicate rainbow, an illusion Avery is sure could burst at any moment if he isn't careful.
It's beautiful.
It's more beautiful than Avery could have ever imagined it would be, trapped in his room at night.
The air is crisp and cool, so sharp it's cutting his cheek. The moon watches over him with her gentle gaze, and the flowers are breathtaking even in their slumber. All is right in the world for a moment, and there's no attendants or nobles or marriage proposals to ruin it.
Avery has no idea what to do with it.
You see, the truth is that Avery has never been alone. From the moment of his birth, he has been surrounded by people. It was only logical, after all. Avery was the fifth prince. He had the least protection. It was easiest for a noble or young merchant or anyone who wished to gain favor with the king to start with Avery and work their way up the line. So Avery had never truly been 'alone'. There were always scheming nobles at his side, governesses and tutors in his ear, women shoved in front of his eye, and guards posted at his door.
He had been swarmed all his life.
So this newfound freedom, this…breath of fresh air, it was overwhelming and confusing. What should he do? He'd never had a chance to be all alone like this before.
Avery was never one to be intimidated by a bit of confusion, however. He looked down the rows and rows of flower plots and began to walk. Quickly, at first. As if he could be caught at any moment (he could be). Eventually, though, his nerves settled and his pace slowed, and he began to admire the slumbering nature surrounding him.
Nature truly was beautiful. He had never truly been able to see it before, with how busy he'd been, but it was painfully obvious now that he had a chance to stop and look.
He traced the row of flower plots with his eyes, until they landed on another figure. Avery stopped dead in his tracks. There's a figure at the end. A stranger, in the gardens? How…how did he get in?
He takes a hesitant step forward, and the stranger, a man, comes into view. The man is clad in golden armor, not the iron the guards in the palace wear, which just makes him all the more suspicious.
Avery steps back, then forward, then back again. Should he go…? Warn someone? He quickly darts behind a lone tree in the garden and peeks around the trunk to take another look.
The stranger is tall like a stalk and broad like the trunk of a tree. He looks…handsome, Avery realizes, and a blush overtakes his face. How could he find a man handsome when he hadn't even seen his face? An intruder, no less!
He pulls his head back behind the trunk and covers his face. What should he do? He can't fight. And he certainly isn't a good runner.
He groans to himself, and a piece finally clicks into place as his brain suddenly recognizes the figure. The king.
A king of a country far greater than their own had come from some far off land, bringing with him a small entourage. Within this group, Avery recalled, had been a man clad in golden armor, said to be The Kings personal guard. That was who the man was. But, if that man and this one were truly the same, why was he here, in the gardens? Should he not be watching over his lord? None of it made sense, and Avery very much did not want to know.
Peeking over the trees trunk again, he hoped to any gods that had not turned their back on him yet that the man had not seen him, and he could quietly escape.
Alas, it seemed all the Gods had turned on him long ago, as the man's eyes met Avery's own.
Curse the gods above. They never listened.
Avery stood frozen as the man walked leisurely towards him, until suddenly Avery was in the presence of a hunking figure dripping in gold.
"Your Highness." The man greeted, his voice deep in a way that made Avery wish he'd never heard his voice at all. Quickly, Avery adjusted his stance, standing straight and looking the man in the eye; although he wanted desperately to look away.
"Hello. You are…?" Avery couldn't help but respond clumsily, caught off guard with his entire face on fire. Hopefully, the man didn't notice. Although, if his amused tone of voice when greeting Avery was anything to go by…he'd already noticed long before he approached.
"Please, call me Derlord." The man, Derlord, held out his hand. It was a strange name, but Avery supposed he'd heard stranger names in the past. He shook Delords hand with what he hoped was a self assured smile on his face.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Derlord." It was really not, at least not now it wasn't. Avery was sure that on any other night, he would be overjoyed to meet a man such as Derlord. But this was his one night, his one taste of freedom. Forgive him if he didn't particularly want to share.
"Pray tell," Derlords voice snapped Avery out of his thoughts. "What is his highness doing, out and about all alone so late in the evening?" There it was again. That amused tone, as if Avery was funny to him by virtue of just existing. As if he was entertaining by just taking up space.
It was a strange thing, to Avery. He was used to people laughing around him to impress him, to gain his favor. Rarely did anyone find him funny, and certainly not for just existing.
Avery found himself finding this man more and more curious with each passing moment.
"Ah. I'm…out for a bit of fresh air." He finally responded, after what he realized must have felt like an eternity to the man before him. Derlord nodded, thoughtfully, looking over to the castle.
"I suppose it would get stuffy, being stuck in a castle all day." He seemed to relax, letting go of Avery's hand. It was hard to see his face under his helmet, but Avery could see the ghost of a smile. "Care to take a walk with me, your highness?" Derlord held out his arm.
Of course, Avery hesitated. This was supposed to be his night alone. His night of freedom. But he looked up at Derlords concealed face. His ghost of a smile. His muscular arm and giant body. There was a sense of charm, underneath the armor and ego. A charm Avery had missed in all his suitors before.
Maybe… maybe being with Derlord could classify as being alone. Like how a guard was always right outside his door at night.
He took Derlord's arm. "I think I'd like that." He said, his smile matching Derlords own. "I think I'd like that very much."
Walking down the stone pathway was, against Avery's assumption, peaceful. The knight was quiet as they walked, almost lost in thought. He looked almost ethereal in the moonlight, the gentle blue light of the moon reflecting off his golden armor. Avery couldn't help but admire him. His strong features from a life of work and training compared to Avery's softer ones from a life of leisure. His arm, so muscular and powerful, able to break him so easily, wrapped around Avery's own so gently.
"It's quite impolite to stare." Even Derlord's voice was strong. Avery looked off to the flowers, his face burning hot.
"I do not stare." He mumbled, though it was unbecoming. He was acting so improperly tonight. Perhaps it was the crisp air, or the pretty shades of blue moonlight, or the flowers. Or maybe it was the freedom getting to his head, causing him to let down his guard.
Whatever it was, Avery was not a fan. Just because he was alone, late at night, with a handsome stranger, does not mean he can act however he wishes. Derlord chuckles at his shame, and Avery resists the urge to pout, instead furrowing his brow. "What are you laughing at? It is not funny!" Avery proclaims, looking up at Derlord.
The knight looks even more beautiful laughing, his guard down. He clears his throat. "Of course, your highness. It is -" Derlord chuckles as he speaks. "It is not funny in the slightest."
They walk in silence for a while after that. Though it is a comfortable silence, not a bad one. Avery had never felt like this before, had never felt a silence that was light and not oppressing. He had to admit, it was…nice.
They soon found themselves at the gardens gazebo, looking out at the gardens beauty. It was quiet, the air was blowing past Avery's face, caressing it with a lovers hand.
"What's it like, being a knight?" Avery finds himself asking. It's catches him off guard, how easily the personal question rolls off his tongue. Maybe it's just tonight he'll be so easy. Maybe, when morning comes, he'll be the suave, cool, Prince Avery once again, and tonight will only be a dream.
If that's the case, he thinks he's going to make the most of it.
If Derlord thinks the question is strange, he doesn't say so. Instead, his gaze, covered in shadow, finds Avery's eyes. "It's not as fun as people make it seem." He says, looking back out towards the night sky.
Avery frowns. There has to be more than that. "Isn't the freedom nice, though? Being able to travel and do whatever you want?"
Avery would love to be a knight. No stuffy nobility kissing his ass or siblings fighting for one throne. Just him and the vast world, freedom to be who he wants to be, and not who the kingdom wants him to be.
Derlord shakes his head, chucking again. He seems to do that a lot, though maybe he just finds Avery amusing. Avery hopes he does. "What freedom?" He says, his eyes still trained on the stars above. "There is no freedom. You're bound to your lord. Wherever they go, you go. Whatever they tell you to do, you do." Derlord's gloved hands clasp together.
"There's no such thing as freedom, for a knight."
Avery's frown only deepens. "At least you chose it. I don't have a choice. I'm stuck here for the rest of my sad, miserable existence." He sighs dramatically.
Derlord looks at Avery, and even though his face is shrouded with shadow, Avery can feel the small, sad smile he gives.
"I suppose you're right, your highness." He says, and they both fall into silence once again, looking out towards the stars.
Conversation after that is always short, yet captivating. Derlord is a man of little words, while Avery is a man of many, yet they still somehow have more meaningful talks than Avery has ever had in his entire life.
They talk about life, and about family. Duty and sacrifice, responsibility and what it's like to not be seen, and Avery feels a pang of guilt that he didn’t notice Derlord at the start of the night. Derlord tells Avery about places the prince will never see, people he'll never meet, foods he'll never try. But somehow that doesn't matter, because Derlord is the one telling the tale. Somehow he speaks, and suddenly they are not a man telling a story and another man listening, but instead two friends recounting a memory.
It all feels so real. So good, so warm.
Derlord tells him about being a knight, about the pledges he took, the man he now serves. Avery tells him about nobility and balls and diplomacy. It's easy. So very easy.
They talk about so many things, but most of all, they talk about love. About who they'll one day marry. Derlord tells Avery that he took a vow to never marry, so long as he served his lord. Avery tells Derlord that he will likely one day be betrothed to someone he probably won’t even know.
Neither of them acknowledge the thick, uncomfortable fog that surrounds them after that conversation. Neither of them want to. Not when the night has been so good.
Derlord, ever the gentleman, drops Avery off at his room. The guards are gone, likely changing shifts. This has to be quick.
"I guess this is goodnight." Avery says, and he ignores the pain in his heart as he says the words.
"I suppose it is." Derlord responds, though his voice doesn't sound as assured as it had been just moments before.
Avery turns to open the door, then stops, looking back at Derlord, eyes searching his face. "When might I see you again?" It's a silly, desperate question, but Avery allows himself to ask. This magical night isn't over yet, he can be Just Avery for a few moments longer.
Derlord gives him a small smile that seems sad at the edges. He takes Avery's hand and presses the knuckles of his fingers to his lips, a gesture so intimate Avery lets himself believe it is the act of a spouse instead of a friend, for just a moment.
"Goodnight, your highness." Derlord says, and then he is gone, disappearing as quickly as he had arrived, leaving Avery standing in the hallway.
Alone.