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Wilhelm realized he wasn't a normal boy around the age of nine. It became apparent that boys were supposed to like girls and girls were supposed to like boys. But Wilhelm didn't really like girls. Not like that, not in the usual sense where a boy would pull a girls ponytail because he thought she was cute and wanted her attention. No, he enjoyed spending his play time with the girls as he watched the boys.
There were whispers that he picked up around the castle, murmurs saying that there was something wrong with Wilhelm. That he needed to act more like a boy, a young man, if he was to be a real prince. The thing is though, Wilhelm liked who he was, the way he was. He didn't feel like there was anything wrong with him. So, he didn’t pay them any mind; he was only nine, what did he know?
One evening at dinner with his parents, the queen, prince consort, and his older brother, the crown prince, the topic of Wilhelm's lack of boyishness was brought to attention.
"Wilhelm," his mother, Kristina, said. "I've been told by your tutors that you aren't playing with the other boys."
Wilhelm, being the polite boy he was, set his utensils down and dabbed at his lips with his linen napkin before speaking. "I don't like playing with the other boys, mamma. They're too loud and dirty." That was another thing about Wilhelm, he didn't like getting dirty. Not because he was too good for it, but because he hated the feel of dirt under his nails. "And I prefer to look at them anyway. I can't look at them when I'm playing with them," he finished matter of factly before picking up his utensils again to finish eating.
"Wille, you think boys are pretty?" Erik, his brother asked disconcertingly. Erik was seven years older than Wilhelm and was already courting a young lady that Wilhelm liked a lot. Her name was Liliana and loved spending time with Wilhelm when Erik was busy with crown prince business.
Erik's question jolted something within the younger prince, maybe it was the tone his brother used. His head shot up to look across the table at his brother. A crease formed between his young brow. "Is that not allowed?"
No one answered and Wilhelm felt his cheeks heat. He set his utensils down and then his napkin next to his plate of food. "Excuse me, papa, mamma, brother," Wilhelm choked out, not meeting anyone's eyes.
As soon as he left the dining hall, tears sprang to his eyes as he ran to his rooms and spent the rest of the night crying in his bed. That was the first time Wilhelm realized he wasn't a normal boy.
—
The next few years, Wilhelm tried to be more like the other boys. He tried. He really, really did, but he hated it. Wilhelm missed the tea parties with the girls and having clean hands, brushing hair and feeling comfortable in his skin.
At age thirteen, puberty hit and it made his devious urges (that’s what the queen called them) more prominent. Made it harder to ignore. Sometimes, he and one of the servant boys who also liked boys would hide in a dark corner and kiss for minutes on end. His name was Henry. Both enjoyed it, but Wilhelm always felt guilty afterwards. Guilty for involving poor Henry. Guilty when he saw his reflection of swollen, pink lips and mussed hair. Always making sure to avoid his family after he gave into his urges .
He walked down the vast cold halls of the castle as he tugged his tunic straight before running his hands through his hair in an attempt to tame it after Henry had tugged at the strands. It had felt good, it was new and made Wille make involuntary noises.
As soon as Wilhelm turned a corner, he ran into Erik.
"Wille!" He hollered as he grabbed Wilhelm's shoulders to steady him. "Have you been snogging a cute girl?" Erik winked.
Wilhelm froze with wide eyes. Fuck . "I- I-," he stuttered as he backed away. He shook his head minutely before running in the opposite direction.
Erik watched as his younger brother fled from him with fear in his eyes. He didn't understand why . As he made his way to meet Liliana for tea, he kept trying to figure it out. His fiancé greeted him with a chaste kiss on the cheek.
"What's wrong, darling? You seem upset," Lily stated as she stirred some milk into her tea. Erik told her about his encounter just now with Wilhelm in the halls. She pursed her lips together, remembering that Erik had told her a few years ago that Wilhelm had thought boys were pretty. "Darling," she placed a hand on his forearm, "Do you remember what you told me about four years ago about Wille?"
Erik gave her a confused look for about a minute, thinking. Oh. Realization hit him straight (or not so straight) in the face, eyes widened as his lungs puffed out an "oh."
Wilhelm had been extra careful over the next few months with when and where he met up with Henry. Until Henry decided he didn't like being the young prince's sidepiece. Wilhelm didn't blame him. They were still friendly though, no hard feelings.
— — —
It was obvious over the next three years that Wilhelm was unlike his child self. More reserved, even more quiet, if that were possible. Rarely going into the yard to play with either the boys or the girls. Preferred to spend his time in the library or the music room. He spent hours learning the new instrument that Liliana brought from across the sea - a harpsichord, she called it. Wilhelm fell in love with it.
At sixteen, Wilhelm took his royal duties much more seriously than he ever had before as it kept him from wanting . Kept him from wanting the thing he couldn't have. He attended meetings even though he wasn't needed as he was only the spare and still so young, he just sat in the corner and sometimes listened. There were other times when he would give an opinion that was actually taken into consideration, making Wilhelm feel important.
But on a day like today, when Wilhelm finds his mind too loud, he finds himself seated in front of the ebony harpsichord with ivory keys.
His fingers danced over the ivories, a solemn tune filling the otherwise stillness in this wing of the castle. A knock sounded on the door before it was cracked open. "Prince Wilhelm, sir," one of the head servants said. Wilhelm stopped playing, setting his hands in his lap before nodding for the young lady to continue. "The guests will be arriving soon."
"Thank you, Olivia." She smiled her only-for-Wilhelm smile (it was sweet and a little lopsided making her eyes crinkle, Wille loved it) and left. The young lady, Olivia, was one of his favorite people in the castle aside from Erik and Liliana. She was always so nice to him and when no one else was around, treated him like a normal human. Always teasing and playfully shoving his shoulder when they got into a laughing fit.
Wilhelm stopped by his room to grab his gilded jerkin and cloak. He hated it, it felt way too flashy for the spare young prince, but Queen Kristina always wanted him to wear his best when receiving guests. He checked his boots to make sure they were scuff free and shining, before checking the rest of his ensemble, straightening and picking off lint before he shrugged on the ridiculously ornate jerkin of deep purple silk and gold thread embroidery. Wille always hated wearing it because it always meant an evening of misery.
Tonight would be no different. Tonight they were greeting a wealthy family from a far end of the kingdom, hoping for a relationship to ease tensions, if the young prince remembered correctly. Tonight Wilhelm was sure he would be losing all of his free choice in finding a partner to help solidify peace in the kingdom. As was his duty, he supposed. He hoped he wouldn’t be married off to some random lady.
With a sigh, he checked himself in the mirror, fixed his hair to the side part his mother preferred and tucked his hair behind his ears.
His boots echoed through the empty halls. Everyone else was either in the kitchens, dining hall or waiting to greet their guests. Nerves started sizzling under his skin. His hand instinctively went to his mouth so he could chew on his nearly non-existent thumbnail. As he turned a corner, Wilhelm bit a little too aggressively and tasted copper on his tongue. " Fuck ," he muttered under his breath. He sucked the blood away before he pulled his hand from his mouth, tucking his thumb into his fist.
One final turn and Wilhelm was graced with a glare from the queen for being late. With a bow of his head as an apology, he took his spot next to Erik, with his hands hooked behind his back. After a deep breath, he puts on his best prince smile.
—
"Why do we have to do this?" Simon whined at his parents as they jostled around in the carriage on their way to the palace.
The Eriksson's were a wealthy family on the edge of the kingdom who basically reigned over their little village as well as the nearby villages. Times were getting tough though. With drought and illness spreading rampant in the outlying communities of the kingdom, they weren't getting the supplies they needed which caused the tension to rise. So, Linda and Micke Eriksson requested an audience with the king and queen to discuss what could be done.
"Because, darling, our people are starving and we need help. And the royal family is supposed to help," Linda stated. She knew this was hard on her children, Sara and Simon. Sara was left in the village to manage things while they were gone since she was the oldest, leaving Simon to suffer the long, hot carriage ride across the countryside with his parents. He just doesn't understand why he had to be included.
Simon slumped in his seat and smashed his cheek against his palm as his eyes darted over the trees and buildings passing the window. The more he thinks about his required presence, the more he feels his gut clench with worry. Worry that he won't get to go back home. That he'll be forced into a loveless marriage with a girl, a princess , to keep relations civil and prosperous. The thought of having to make an heir with a female makes him nauseous.
All of his life, Simon has always liked boys. His family had no issue and told him he could love whomever he wanted. But now it seemed like his luck was up. Brought out of his musing as the carriage came to a halt, he sighed with resignation that his life was over.
"Simme, it won't be that terrible," Micke said, attempting to cheer his son up. "I hear there's a fully stocked music room here that you can spend some time in during our visit." His father smiled at him. Visit . Simon took solace in the idea that this was just a visit, according to his father anyway. Though, he wasn’t usually the one who had all the information, that was Linda’s prerogative.
Simon stepped out of the carriage, blindly taking the hand offered to him. When he looked up, he was met with the wide honey brown eyes of a boy in a gilded jerkin. Both stood there, frozen, eyes locked as their chests rose and fell in tandem. The boy's tongue darted out to wet his lips causing Simon's eyes to follow the movement. His mouth was dry as his lips parted wanting nothing more than to connect his lips to the beautiful supple lips of the boy still holding his hand.
"Ahem," his mother cleared her throat behind him, shaking Simon out of stupor.
With a glance back at his mother and her knowing smile, a lovely flush on his cheeks, he muttered, "Sorry, mamá."
The introductions to the queen, prince consort, and crown prince were a blur after that. He wasn’t even sure when they had made it inside. But Simon's eyes always found their way back to the beautiful boy with the beautiful eyes and soft fingers, wishing they could be introduced. Butterflies would take flight in his stomach when he realized the boy was also searching him out as well. Their eyes met and darted away on multiple occasions.
At one point, the boy laughed at something Micke had and Simon wanted nothing more to bottle it up so he could listen to it whenever he was sad. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard and he wished that he had been the one to cause it.
"Sir," a cute young lady greeted Simon. She offered a refreshment. "It's juice," she added with a wink. Apparently the palace had been informed of his alcoholic restrictions, well they weren’t restrictions per say, but he had stopped drinking wine after his last relationship. The boy in question had ended up being an abusive alcoholic.
"Thank you," he nodded and he took the glass. He turned around to go find a quiet place to clear his head, but promptly bumped into a solid form. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" Simon had nearly spilt his juice on the unsuspecting victim.
"Oh, no, it was my fault. My apologies."
Simon looked up and found those beautiful honey brown eyes again. A soft smile played on the boy's lips. It looked like it was meant just for Simon. He sucked in a breath at its perfection.
"I don't believe we've been introduced. I'm Wilhelm." The boy - Wilhelm, wait… Prince Wilhelm?! - put a hand on his chest and gave a short bow, eyes never leaving Simon's. Simon felt like he was swooning. He received a toothy grin from Wilhelm when he realized he forgot to respond.
"Oh, sorry. Where are my manners?" He chuckled. "Simon."
"Simon," Wilhelm repeated like he just wanted to know what it felt like on his tongue. Simon certainly wanted to know what Wilhelm felt like on his t- fuck! Not here. Keep it in your pants, Simon , he thought to himself.
"Mi amor! Darling, come properly meet our hosts," Linda placed her hand on her son's elbow to guide him away from Wilhelm, but wasn’t Wilhelm one of the hosts? For a brief moment he resisted, with one last look at the boy before being dragged away.
—
Wilhelm watched the boy - Simon - walk away with who he assumed was Simon's mother based on their appearances. Left by himself, he felt like a limb was just ripped from his body. It was a strange feeling.
" Lilbror !" Erik clapped a hand on Wilhelm's shoulder making him startle.
"Fuck, Erik," Wilhelm hissed as he brought a hand to his chest to calm the sudden increase of his heartbeat. His brother just let out a loud belly laugh, Wilhelm couldn't help his smile at his brother's happiness.
"You seem distracted," Erik winked before he looked in the direction Simon had gone. Wilhelm's smile fell. Stomach instantly knotting itself in terror. If Erik wasn't holding him in place by his shoulder, he would have run. But alas, he was stuck in a crowded room with family, guests, and servants. It would be rather strange if the younger prince sprinted out.
"I don't- I'm not-," Wilhelm stuttered. Palms started to sweat, the already warm space turning into a sauna. His breath started quickening.
Erik's eyes softened at his brother's distress. "Come," he said with a tug towards the corner of the room. Wilhelm dutifully followed the crown prince. "Wille, I feel like I've been a terrible brother over the last few years." This confession makes a crease appear between Wilhelm's eyebrows. It felt like such a strange and out of place thing to say, especially at a time like this. "Mum, papa, and I haven't been very supportive of you over the years. I think we all kind of made you feel like you were wrong for some of the feelings you had… have," Erik added because obviously Wilhelm still has those feelings. He could tell by the way Wilhelm had been entranced by that Simon fellow.
Wilhelm felt like his heart was in his throat. He couldn't really comprehend what Erik was getting at. Erik gently pulled his hand away from chest, not having even realized he was still rubbing at his chest.
"We love you for you, Wille. No matter who you love." Erik gave his hand a squeeze and his eyes sincere.
"What?" Wilhelm choked out, eyes flooded with unshed tears. Was Erik really saying what Wilhelm thought?
"There you are!" Liliana sauntered over to her fiance. "Oh, Wille, love, how are- what's wrong?" Her smile dropped as she took in Wilhelm's state in distress. "Erik, what did you do?!" She admonished her partner and she pulled Wilhelm into her arms.
Erik wasn't able to answer because everyone was being ushered into the dining room. All through supper, Wilhelm was stressed and found eating to be very difficult. Thankfully, he was able to gulp down wine which made getting through the rest of the evening near tolerable.
He made polite small talk with Linda. She was a sweet lady. Wilhelm could feel Simon's eyes on him throughout the meal, but he couldn't look, couldn't meet those gorgeous dark eyes. The vulnerability he was feeling was too raw to meet the boy's eyes that seemed to bore deep into his soul. The incomplete conversation with his brother and Liliana was making his mind race, his heart pounding in his ears.
"Prince Wilhelm?"
Wilhelm hadn't noticed he had gotten so lost in thought. "Sorry, Lady Linda. I got lost in my thoughts for a bit. My apologies. You were saying?"
Linda gave him a soft smile, "Don't worry, carino." She placed her hand on his. "I was just asking about the music room here in the castle," she said with a quick glance at her son across the table.
"Oh, yes." Wilhelm told her all about the instruments they had and his love for the harpsichord. So lost in his tellings of one of his favorite rooms, he didn't see the longing gaze of the boy across the table.
—
Simon was wandering the halls well after the evening's festivities had died down. Wilhelm had disappeared rather quickly much to Simon's disappointment, he had wanted to talk to the prince some more. Ever since their eyes met when he had stepped out of the carriage that afternoon, Wilhelm was all Simon could think about and he had seemed a bit off at dinner. He just wanted to know if the prince was okay, if he had done anything to warrant the downfall in the prince's mood.
The prince was gorgeous. Honey brown eyes, soft dark blonde hair, smooth hands, and a sweet smile. There was also something else that fizzed through the air between them. Simon couldn't place it, but he wanted to feel it again more than anything.
As he looked up to see where he was in the vast stone castle, Simon didn't recognize anything. Not that that was a hard feat, the whole castle was gray with the occasional tapestry and torch or sconce gracing the wall.
"Well, shit." There was nothing to do but keep walking and hope he found somewhere that looked more familiar. As he turned a corner, Simon heard something. He followed it. Corners were turned, he would walk halfway down a hallway only to turn around when the sound became quieter. Simon spent minutes darting around in attempts to find the siren song. The closer he got, the more he heard the sadness in it.
Finally he found the door where the music was the loudest. Simon pressed his ear to the smooth wood. Inside he could hear a quiet voice, too quiet to understand, singing along with the melody, which he assumed was being played on the harpsichord. In all honesty, whoever it was had a terrible singing voice, but there was so much emotion that it didn't matter.
Simon stood with his ear against the door and his eyes shut, just listening. He wet his lips and tasted salt, not noticing that he had started crying. The words on the other side of the door faltered and a choked sob met Simon's ear along with a mash of notes. His heart broke for the poor soul on the other side. He pressed his hand against the wood to try and feel closer. Simon wanted to help, wanted to soothe. That was what Simon did. He took care of people even to the detriment of his own wellbeing.
The room stayed silent for a while, only the occasional sniffle would make its way through the cracks in the door. Eventually, Simon reluctantly pulled himself from the door and started walking away. It wasn't his place to check on whoever it was even though his body screamed to help.
When Simon met a crossroads of corridors, he stood in the middle, slowly spinning around to find anything familiar. He had made himself completely and utterly lost trying to find the music. Fortunately, he heard steps approaching him and he felt relieved because they could help him get back to where he was supposed to be.
Around the corner, at the far end of the cold hallway that Simon had just come from, the figure of the prince appeared, lit up with torches. He had lost his jerkin and his hair was a mess. Simon's heart sank. Had the prince gotten lucky?
Wilhelm stopped and dug his palms into his eyes, a loud sniffle echoing off the walls.
Oh .
Simon couldn't understand why the boy was so sad, if only he could have heard the lyrics to the song. He lived in the lap of luxury. He could have anything he ever wanted, but here he was standing in a dark hallway in flickering torchlight, trying not to breakdown after playing the most melancholy song Simon has ever heard.
Slowly, Simon stepped out of view only to back into a decorative suit of armor. His eyes went wide at the sound that he was sure just woke the entire kingdom!
"Are you okay?" Wilhelm squeaked out, having run to him to see what happened. The silence stretched as Simon grimaced down at the mess he made.
Once turned towards the prince with the most apologetic face he could make, a piece of armor that wasn't quite settled shifted and echoed down the hall causing both to flinch. Simon’s shoulders were pulled up to his ears.
"Um." Simon didn't know what to say, but he didn't feel so bad when he looked up at the prince's face. Wilhelm had a hand over his mouth, a smile in his eyes, and shaking shoulders. Simon didn't feel so bad anymore.
"Shut up," Simon mutters without any bite and before he thinks better of it, he shoves at Wilhelm's shoulder. The heat of the other's shoulder brings to life the severity of that little action. One wasn't allowed to touch royalty without permission. "I'm sorry, I didn-," Simon cut himself off when Wilhelm's face fell and shook his head after his apology, like he was disappointed.
"It's fine," Wilhelm said barely loud enough for Simon to hear.
Both boys stood there for what felt like ages. It was awkward. Wilhelm looked down at the toppled armor, his fringe falling into his face and he bit at his thumbnail.
Simon cleared his throat, "Um, your highness, I'm sorry, but I'm lost." Wilhelm closed his eyes at the mention of his title. When his eyes opened again, gone was the sad, awkward boy who then laughed at Simon's little disaster, replaced with a prince.
Wilhelm nodded and gestured for Simon to follow him. It was awkward and uncomfortable as they made their ways through the maze of the castle, but before Simon knew it, Wilhelm stopped and swept his arm out towards a door with a familiar tapestry next to it.
"Goodnight, Sir Simon," Wilhelm gave a short bow, not once meeting Simon's eyes and turned on his heel.
"Goodnight." Simon watched the prince disappear with sadness in his heart.
—
Wilhelm shut the door to his room and rested his forehead against it. He hated being a prince. Everyone was always tiptoeing around, always self conscious of doing the wrong thing and immediately apologizing if they felt like they did something wrong. He knew he shouldn't have hoped, knew it would be the same. It's always the same, but he had hoped that Simon would be different.
He had hoped earlier in the day that Simon wouldn't adhere to the usual formalities, but after tonight, well… Wilhelm should know better.
Sleep didn't come that night. Wilhelm just lay there thinking of the curly haired boy with dark brown eyes and bronze skin at the other end of the castle. He was beautiful. And Wilhelm thought that maybe, just maybe there could be something there, a friendship perhaps. Very unlikely that it could be more, nothing is ever in Wilhelm's favor. But alas, it wasn't more than a couple hours before the boy was apologizing for doing absolutely nothing wrong.
A thought came to him when the sky started lightening and he shot up in his bed, had Simon heard him in the music room? "Oh, no, nonono." Wilhelm covered his face with his hands. "Please, no," he groaned.
After an hour more of fretting about what-if's, Wilhelm readied himself for breakfast with their guests.
Today, the queen, prince consort, and crown prince will talk with Linda and Micke to discuss their plans to help the outer reaches of the kingdom. Wilhelm and Liliana are to entertain the youngest Eriksson. That part is something Wilhelm had been looking forward to after initially meeting the boy, but after the mishap in the corridor, he felt nauseous about having to see Simon again.
Breakfast was a quiet affair since it was a late evening. Utensils clinking and murmured conversations sounded around the room. Wilhelm kept his head down as he picked at his food.
"Wilhelm," Queen Kristina hisses quietly at him. "Don't play with your food."
"Sorry, mamma," Wilhelm muttered before scooping some eggs into his mouth.
"You will keep our guest entertained while the rest of us are in the meeting, correct?"
"Yes, mamma." Wilhelm took another bite and felt sick. Just a few more bites and he could hurry off to have a few moments to himself before he was forced to be a good host. At least he'll have Liliana, he thought.
An hour or so later, Wilhelm made his way to Simon's chamber. They were to meet Liliana in the garden for a walk. She had suggested it would be a good idea during breakfast and Simon had agreed. A fine idea, Wilhelm thought as he did enjoy the gardens.
Tentatively, Wilhelm knocks on the door after straightening his dark gray tunic and making sure the rest of himself was presentable. He was nervous. This would be the first time they would interact after the awkward meeting the night before. He did his best to prepare himself for more awkwardness and formalities he hated.
The door swung open and there stood Simon, glowing and radiant as ever. He seemed to have changed from what he had been wearing to breakfast which he felt was strange, but what does Wilhelm know? Simon shrugged on a very cozy looking doublet before pointing to his right and said cockily, "This way, your highness ?" A smirk hid in the corner of his mouth, but one would only see it if they knew Simon.
Wilhelm opened and closed his mouth a couple times like a fish, slightly taken aback by the other's tone. Unable to find his voice, he nodded with a frown on his face. He was astonished by how the boy didn't even care about offending him. Before Wilhelm turned down the corridor, the smirk came to light on Simon's face which caused the butterflies in his chest to once again take flight. Maybe Wilhelm had read everything wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Liliana smiled at the boys as they made their way down the garden stairs, Wilhelm tried to match it, but he knew it didn't reach his eyes. He was well aware he was in prince mode.
"Wille, dear!" She kisses his cheek. "Simon, darling, I love your doublet!" Lily sets a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Simon spins for her, "Thank you, Lady Liliana! I thought purple would be a nice color for a garden walk." She lets out a sweet, practiced laugh, telling Simon to call her 'Lily' before guiding them on their way. Wilhelm is thankful for Lily and her ability to charm anyone. She can defuse a situation with a glance or a simple touch of her hand. Some days, Wilhelm thinks she has magic.
It doesn't surprise Wilhelm when he gets lost in the way Simon moves. The boy is graceful and holds himself like a noble even though he isn't of noble birth. His fingers reach out and brush against the plants that he seems to like, otherwise they stay hooked behind his back. Sometimes, he'll do a little skip, that makes his curls gently bounce against his head, to catch up to Liliana if he happened to pause too long on the path to admire a topiary, a fountain, or a unique plant.
"What's this plant, Lily? I've never seen it before." Simon is fascinated by a small bush with radiant orange flowers that nearly glow in the mid morning sun. It's a favorite of Wille's. The flame azalea. They represent family and familial duty but can also symbolize wealth and elegance and also a desire for home. That may also be why the flower is a part of the family crest. Not that he particularly cares about what it means, he just enjoys the color gradients on the petals.
Wilhelm hears every one of Simon's questions about the flora around them, but never answers. Though he could as he knows just about everything there is to know about the gardens. But Simon isn't asking him , Simon won't even look at him. The only reason he's still there is because Lily glared at him when he tried to escape, even though it seems like it would be better for all parties involved. So, he lags behind the other two, scuffing his feet along the path, hands hooked behind his back, pretending to not notice every little thing the other boy does.
His mind wanders, though. Back to last night after his time at the harpsichord, when he was falling apart only to find an embarrassed boy knocking over a suit of armor, making him laugh for the first time in too long. But it was ripped away too fast, too soon with apologies and formalities and fuck , he hates being a prince. Maybe Wilhelm should have reacted differently. Maybe he should have just told Simon to call him Wille instead of falling into his usual self deprecating ways.
"Wille?" Lily hollered rather annoyingly at him from across the little bridge at the far end of the garden. He looked up at her. "How old is this tree? I can't recall." The tree in question is a towering redwood that shades most of the area and is said to have been there since before the castle, before the kingdom. Wilhelm found it fascinating, really. There were others around as well, but most had been harvested, unfortunately.
Wilhelm made his way to them with long strides, placing a palm against the reddish bark. He said, "This tree is older than this kingdom. Some say this tree was only half this size when people started settling in the area. No one actually knows how old it is. Some say it's over two thousand years old." He turns to look at Simon and Liliana. The boy has his head thrown all the way back like he's trying to see the top which is a near impossible feat, especially standing so close to it. Wilhelm can't help but drag his eyes over the column of Simon's neck, it's narrow and the way his Adam’s apple juts out is just… and his skin glows a golden brown in the dappled light. His fingers twitch in their yearning to touch so he just digs them into the bark of the tree instead.
Deviance isn't allowed.
"Wow," Simon says in awe. "I've never seen a tree so big. How many people can stand around it, do you think?" The trunk of the tree was insanely huge.
"Seventeen knights with their arms outstretched. When Erik and I were little, we convinced the knights to see how many of them it would take to encircle the tree. Who knows, maybe it’s more now." Wilhelm dropped his hand, fingers sliding down the bark, a sliver stuck under his nail. The sting distracted his mind only slightly. "I love this tree," he added pensively, mostly to himself as he looked up at the branches. He doesn't see how Simon looked at him, more in awe of him rather than the tree.
—
Spending all day with the prince was much nicer than he thought it would be, even if they barely interacted. After the strange shift in Wilhelm the previous night, he thought it would be more awkward, but it wasn't. Wilhelm kept his distance, sure, but he was friendly enough. Knowledgeable about the garden.
Simon kind of felt bad for him. His smiles never reached his eyes, which he noticed had a light purple tinge below them. Their honey brown was dull even in the golden morning light. The boy had looked more alive last night at the party than he does now. He had at least been rested then.
All day, Simon studied him. He noticed how his princely smile always dropped the instant he turned away, how he's either picking at his cuticles, biting at his thumbnail when he thinks neither Simon or Liliana are looking, or what concerned Simon the most is when Wilhelm rubbed at his chest and clenched his jaw. He didn’t do it often in the gardens, but it seemed to be a constant habit that Simon noticed since meeting the prince.
When they had visited the stables, Simon saw Wilhelm visibly relax as he pet his horse. It reminded him of Sara. She adores horses and would absolutely love to be in the royal stables. There had been a fleeting disappointment on Wilhelm's face when Simon said he didn't want to go riding because he was afraid of horses, but the boy hid it well. Simon almost changed his mind. Almost.
He could not believe how easy it was for this boy of sixteen to mask his emotions so well. Thinking about it, Simon doesn't actually know anyone who can hide their truth under such a mask of fake politeness like Wilhelm can. Though, he guessed he hasn't met much royalty. Maybe they're all forced to be emotionless drones.
After lunch, the trio made their way to the music room. Simon noticed the armor had been fixed; he does feel bad about that.
"Wille, play that song you've been working on!" Lady Liliana claps. And this is the first time that day that the mask really slips. No, it doesn't just slip, it falls off completely.
Wilhelm's cheeks turned scarlet and his eyes went wide as he shook his head, "I- I- It's not done yet," he stuttered. Stuttered . "I'm not- I'm not-" A shaking hand shot to his chest and Simon can tell that Wilhelm is pressing hard because the fabric wrinkles around his hand.
"Wilhelm," Liliana said more sternly than she had all day. Simon snapped his head to the lady with an incredulous look. The Lady had been so friendly and cordial all day, her mood change was giving Simon whiplash. Her eyes narrowed at the prince who looked like he couldn't fucking breathe. Simon didn't understand what was happening.
"He doesn't have to play it if he doesn't want to," Simon stated after finally finding his voice. He stepped between the two, facing Lily.
She raised a perfect eyebrow at him, before abruptly stating, "I have a few things to attend to." Lady Liliana stood and swept her hands down the front of her dress. "Will you two be alright by yourselves? Good." And she's gone before the boys understand what just transpired.
"The fuck was that!" Simon threw his arms out in annoyance. There's a slight wheeze behind him and Simon remembers that the prince was freaking out. He turned quickly, then put his hands on Wilhelm's shoulders without asking permission because all his decorum was thrown out the window anyway. Wilhelm's ability to breathe is more important. "Wilhelm. Wille." The prince's eyes snap to his. "Good. Breathe, Wille." Simon exaggerated his breath, "Like me. Good. Again."
It took a few minutes for Wilhelm to calm down and actually take a full deep breath. Simon led him to the sofa by the window that looked out over the garden. "Are you feeling better now?"
Wilhelm nodded a little sluggishly. "I’m sorry," he replied hoarsely, unable to meet Simon's gaze.
Simon just blinked at Wille. “Sorry? Why on earth are you sorry? Lily should be sorry, that was way out of line.”
Their eyes finally met and Simon’s heart broke. An incredible sadness laced Wilhelm’s face, like he was a disappointment, like he was waiting to be reprimanded and-
Oh .
He looked like that because that’s what he was expecting. Just the idea that someone would reprimand Wille or think him a disappointment lit a fire under Simon’s skin. After a few quiet minutes, Simon had calmed down enough to actually look around the room at all of the instruments. "Do you mind if I play?" Simon asked, gesturing to lute in the corner. The prince shook his head and gestured for him to do as he wished.
—
Wilhelm felt a little lightheaded. Liliana had never treated him like that before. She had always been kind to him and conscious about his anxious tendencies. Today felt like a betrayal of sorts. He was confused, unsure how to feel about it. Staring at the stone floor, Wilhelm felt a little empty.
He was thankful for Simon though. No one except for maybe Erik had ever stood up for him before. Especially not a commoner to a Lady of the court. Not that Wilhelm thought of Simon as a commoner.
It had always been hard for Wilhelm to live in this castle, following strict rules passed down by kings and queens of old. None dared stray from tradition like the young prince. The young prince who thinks boys are pretty, the young prince who hates to get his hands dirty and prefers books and music to sword fighting.
A soft, angelic voice funneled into Wilhelm's ears, bringing him out of his head. Lifting his eyes, they settled on the beautiful site next to him. Dark curls wreathed in natural light, lithe fingers danced over the strings, a melody so common transformed into something holy and new. Simon's face was so full of emotion as he sang, his eyes were closed as he lost himself to the music.
Wilhelm can't look away. He's entranced. He may be in love. His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest as warmth spreads through his body. He wants-
No .
Screwing his eyes shut, he remembered he can't have the one thing he wants - the love of a boy. The only thing he wants in this vast world is to be free to love who he wants. But as long as his mother sits on the throne and holds to tradition, he can't.
The song ended and Wilhelm gave the boy a soft, sad smile. A real one. Simon smiled back and it was radiant.
"When did you learn to play?" Wilhelm asked quietly as he fiddled with his fingers in his lap. He was slouched against the back of the couch, too exhausted from his panic attack to bother with being proper.
"My papa taught me when I was really young, maybe four?" Simon's fingers continued to strum the strings at a level where they could still talk. Wilhelm watched the movements, not caring that he was staring. "Papa was a bard in his younger days before he met mamá. We actually play together in the tavern at home most weekends," he added with a smile that lit up his eyes.
"Wow, that's really cool," Wilhelm smiled.
"It's really fun."
The conversation faded, but the air stayed comfortable as Simon continued to play softly. Wilhelm dropped his head back and closed his eyes, just listening. He felt content.
—
Wilhelm had fallen asleep to Simon's playing. Simon didn't mind. It gave him the opportunity to really look at the prince and admire him as a boy rather than royalty.
Simon came to the conclusion that Wilhelm didn't much like being a prince. In his sleep, all the stress he held in his face was gone and actually made him look his age. And he wasn't fidgeting. Something Simon noticed the prince did constantly.
As Wilhelm softly snored, Simon had taken stock of the various instruments at his disposal. He wasn't really sure what most of them were, but it was still fascinating. After a while, Simon decided a nap was a good idea.
With a stretch, Simon woke some time later. The sun was still up, so it hadn't been too long. He just snuggled back into the warmth of the couch. Until his brain caught up and discovered that somehow Simon had made a pillow of the prince's thigh and the prince’s fingers were in his hair .
"Good morning," Wilhelm teased softly. Simon shot up, heat rushing to his face. "Please don't apologize," the prince all but begged.
Simon gnawed on his lower lip, not sure how to proceed.
"It- it was…" Wilhelm took a deep breath. "It was nice," he whispered to his lap.
Oh.
Did the young prince like boys? Simon scooted closer, their thighs nearly touching. He could feel the heat radiating between them.
"Do you not like being a prince?" He asked slowly, unsure if he was overstepping, not wanting Wilhelm to clam back up. The prince looked at him with a carefully blank expression, then gave a slightest shake of his head before looking back at his hands.
"Of course I do. It's a privilege," he muttered.
"Mm." Simon didn't believe him.
A knock on the door startled both boys. The door opened revealing a young lady with a friendly face.
"Wil- Prince Wilhelm," she curtsied. "Sir," she nodded at Simon.
"Hello, Olivia. This is Simon," Wilhelm said as he nodded at the other boy.
"Hi," Simon awkwardly waved.
"Hello, Simon," she smiled sweetly. "Dinner will be served soon." She left with a wink towards the prince.
"Does she fancy you?" Simon giggled after her footsteps disappeared.
Wilhelm groaned as he dropped his head into his hands. "No. No, not my type."
"Oh, what is your type then?" Simon leaned towards him with a smirk.
"Shut up," Wilhelm laughed and pushed Simon away. Simon squawked and a mini wrestling match started.
—
Wilhelm felt so happy as Simon laughed and tried to tickle him while also trying to evade Wilhelm's own tackles. It was so nice to just be normal for a minute.
"No!" Simon squealed and kicked, when the prince dug his fingers into Simon's sides. Wilhelm quickly slapped his hand over Simon's mouth. Both boys nearly instantly went still and silent save for their ragged breathing.
Simon had somehow ended up completely covered by Wilhelm. His leg was slotted between Simon's. It was intensely intimate. The feel of Simon's lips against Wilhelm's palms were like a brand on his skin, but he couldn't move and Simon seemed just as frozen.
Ever so slowly, Wilhelm removed his hand from Simon's mouth only to set it against dark curls.
"Wille," Simon breathed. The boy lifted his chin, a silent plea. Their lips barely touched, but both felt like it was everything. Wilhelm pressed in a little more, just wanting . A small whine was breathed into Wilhelm's mouth. The sound was something the prince wanted to hear more of. He wanted to make this beautiful boy make more delicious sounds, louder ones. Wilhelm wanted to be the cause of them.
Fuck.
Faster than he could even comprehend, Wilhelm was on the opposite side of the room. His fingers against his lips, his other hand clenched into his hair.
"Wille," Simon reached out to him, fingers touching his shoulder. Wilhelm hadn't seen the boy get up. "I won't tell." Their eyes met and made Wilhelm's heart clench at the sadness in those dark brown orbs.
"I'm sorry." He closed his eyes, unable to take the boy's sadness anymore. A warm hand with callouses touched his cheek causing his breath to hitch. There's a soft press to his lips and Wilhelm never wanted it to end. He doesn't want to leave this safe space where he can just be Wille . Wille and Simon, two boys who kiss and play music together.
"We should go." Simon's voice is barely a whisper, afraid to break the spell they're under. Wilhelm nodded a little jerkily. Neither moved. Just stood in each other's space, breathing each other's air.
Chatter down the corridor convinced Wilhelm to move. They made their way to the dining hall, sharing small smiles along the way. He pulled at his clothes until Simon said he was good and he did the same for the other boy.
There were lots of smiles and wine being poured as soon as the boys entered the vast room. Micke had a hop in his step as he made his way over to Simon.
"My boy! Everything is settled, we'll leave in the morning!" he said so cheerfully. "Just like you wanted. We know you didn't want to come in the first place. It was a good thing we were able to get all settled today!"
Wilhelm's heart sank. Simon would be leaving at dawn.
"Great!" Simon said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes as his father hugged him.
"Your brother will make a wonderful king some day," Micke slapped a hand to Wilhelm's shoulder that made him flinch before walking away with a sway in his step.
—
Wilhelm stood at the front steps of the castle, watching as the carriage took the Eriksson's back home along with several carts and carriages with provisions. The rest of his family had gone about their duties as soon as the carriage doors had shut, leaving Wilhelm alone in the blue hour of the morning.
The boys hadn't spoken much throughout the visit, but a connection was made. One that Wilhelm felt will likely never be strengthened, but would never fully disappear, left to linger in the depths of Wilhelm's soul. He doubted he would see Simon ever again.
—
Prince Wilhelm had stood in front of the castle as the carriage drove away. Simon had watched him stand there while everyone else had gone about their lives. After their time in the music room, Simon felt like he understood the prince better than he had before. Wilhelm was a beautiful bird with clipped wings in a gilded cage, only there for others to gawk at. Seeing Wilhelm just be was like a breath of fresh air, a bird stretching its wings. And he let Simon see it, see him , the boy hidden beneath a title.
Trees were all he could see. Slowly, they passed by the window of the carriage. His forehead rolled over the glass with the jostling of the vehicle. There was a longing in Simon's chest that was usually associated with when he had to leave home for a trip. But he was going home now, he should be happy. Soon he would be able to hug his sister, sleep in his own bed, and see his friends.
And yet…
His thoughts were back at the palace with the boy who he couldn't understand and wanted to. The boy who had everything, but was still so sad. The boy who looked at him .
"Simme, I thought you'd be happy to be going home," Linda set a hand on her son's knee, looking at him with concern.
"I am, mamá. Just tired," Simon did his best to smile, but was sure it was more of a grimace. She looked at him like she could see the truth written on his face. Maybe she could. Thankfully, she doesn't say anything else before turning back to her book.
He wished there was a warm pale hand offered to him as he stepped out of the carriage several hours later. Instead, he was bowled over and embraced tightly by Sara, his best friend and sister. "Oh my gods, Sara!" he laughed.
"I missed you!" she exclaimed. Sara didn't give him a minute to breathe before she told him everything that happened in the few days that he was gone. It was hard to focus on her words no matter how hard he tried though. His thoughts always drifted back to honey brown eyes and a shy smile, a lone figure on the steps of a castle in the early morning light. "You're distracted."
"Hm?" Simon looked around and didn't know how they had made it to his room.
"Did you meet someone?" Sara waggled her eyebrows at him.
Simon groaned, "What the fuck, Sara?"
"You did!" She jumped onto his bed. "Tell me!" Sat on her heels, she placed her hands on her knees as she beamed at her younger brother.
"There's nothing to tell." Simon went to unpack his bag, hoping she wouldn’t push the topic. After unlatching the hook on his satchel, he flipped over the flap and was greeted with a folded piece of paper.
"What's that?" He hadn't noticed that his sister was now standing beside him looking at the confusion on his face.
"I don't know," he said as he gingerly picked it up. Rested flat on one palm, he opened the paper to reveal a flower from the orange azalea bush that Simon had more or less swooned over.
"Oh, that's a flame azalea. Isn't it beautiful! I've always thought it should be called sunset azalea," Lily had said. Simon hadn't heard much more after that after he had caught Wille looking at Simon from behind his fringe, a soft, barely there smile on his lips. The softness of the prince made it feel like a million butterflies had taken residence in his stomach. It only became more incessant when Wilhelm had talked about the redwood trees. The passion the boy had about the tree was beautiful, making Simon want to know the prince more on a deeper level.
"I've never seen that flower before, what is it?" Sara asked, bringing Simon out of his memory. She lifted her hand, her finger barely grazed the edge of a petal.
"Flame azalea."
"It should be called sunset azalea."
Simon can't help the smile that stretched his lips, "That's what Lady Liliana thinks too."
"Oh, tell me about her! And Prince Erik! Actually, tell me everything!"
He always forgets how much Sara loves the royals, so he indulged her, leaving out details on the younger prince.
Later when Simon is reclined in his bed, the rest of the house is quiet as his family sleeps. The flame azalea sat in the folded paper next to him. Rolling onto his side, Simon lifted one side of the paper to look at the flower again. The flower shifted to reveal something written on the paper.
Once propped up on an elbow, Simon felt his heart rate pick up. Gently, he lifted the drooping flower to reveal slightly messy writing.
I knew you liked this one -Wille
Wille.
Simon really needed to get it together. His cheeks felt like they were aflame. It wasn't easy to make Simon flustered, but that boy seemed to know how without even trying.
His fingers danced over the letters, tracing them ever so softly. After hopping off the bed, Simon retrieved a book from the shelf. He opened it to the middle and then set the note on the pages, then the flower, folding the note over it before closing the book.
That night, he dreamt of a field of flowers the color of fire and soft brown eyes.
— — —
At nineteen, nearly twenty, Wilhelm was called to a meeting with his mother. No idea what it was for or how to prepare himself, Wilhelm busied himself making sure he looked put together before answering the summons.
Upon arrival to the throne room, Wilhelm took a moment to gather himself before he nodded at one of the knights standing guard. His presence was made known and he was allowed to enter.
After giving a small bow to his mother, he waited, not being allowed to speak until spoken to. Her sharp eyes darted over him, accessing, judging. Wilhelm did his best not to squirm under her gaze. Thankfully, not long after, Erik entered through the side door and took his seat beside the queen. That couldn't be good.
"Morning, Wille," Erik said cheerfully. Wilhelm didn't answer as he looked between his brother and mother, eyebrows stitched together in confusion. "I'm sure you're wondering why you've been summoned." Wille can tell that Erik felt uncomfortable at the mention of summoning his own brother if the slight pursing of his lips is anything to go by. All he could do was nod.
"Well, we think it's probably time for you to start thinking about finding a wife… a partner," Erik corrected, knowing that Wilhelm would bolt if forced to wed a woman. Wilhelm started to step back anyway at the implication, face unusually blank, but eyes wide.
"Why do I need to find a-" He couldn’t say the word. Wilhelm's eyes wouldn't stay focused on any one thing, a flash of dark brown eyes and curly hair flashed across his vision. Simon still haunted Wilhelm's dreams even after three and a half years. The kiss they shared in the music room was ever present in the back of his mind. Gesturing to Erik, he said, " You have a wife and two children, why do I need to do anything?"
Erik understood. He did. But the kingdom is wondering why the young prince doesn't fancy anyone and mother doesn't like it when the royal family or more aptly, royal tradition is questioned.
Wilhelm stuttered, "I don't want a- a- a wife."
And there it is. The confirmation that the young prince strayed from tradition. Erik had no qualms with that way of life, but others always will. Religious radicals mostly, along with the older generation, their mother included.
"Wilhelm," Kristina chastised. "Don't be unreasonable." Wilhelm scoffs. "You will find a wife at the ball we have arranged for your twentieth birthday."
He flinched at the order. Breathing quickly became harder as Wilhelm's vision blurred, feeling utterly betrayed. After a violent head shake which dislodged a tear that was quickly wiped away, he turned on his heel and stormed out.
"Mamma, you said you weren't going to arrange that stupid ball." Erik finally turned to her after Wilhelm's footsteps no longer echoed through the hall. "You promised me you'd let him choose in his own time and that this was just supposed to be a pep talk of sorts. Get him thinking."
"Oh, come now," Kristina scoffed as she stood from her throne and made her way to the side chamber. "No one marries for anything more than status and money anyway. He'll be fine," she waved her hand around like she wasn't forcing her youngest son to marry someone, a girl no less, that he had absolutely zero interest in. Erik chose to ignore that blatantly false statement about loveless marriage as he was madly in love with his wife. Just because she didn't love Ludvig didn't make that true for everyone else.
"Mother, he doesn't even like girls," Erik replied like it was obvious.
Kristina spun on her heel, pointing a finger in her eldest son's face, venom laced her words, "He will do as I say or he will no longer be a part of this family. We have not reigned for these past ten generations just to have a- a deviant break tradition!"
"You'll disown your own son?" Erik was appalled.
The queen turned around to go and sit behind her desk, not meeting the crown prince's eyes when she said, "We have heirs, he's really of no use to us. He was only born out of necessity."
Erik just stands there, stunned, mouth agape at the audacity of his mother, no, the queen. Any motherly quality was buried too deep in the heart of the woman in front of him. It was known throughout the castle that Wilhelm was her least favorite, but this? This seemed way too far.
"He will go through with this or be cast out." With her hands folded over some papers, she glanced towards the door, a clear dismissal. With a shake of his head, anger bubbling under his skin, Erik left without even a bow of respect. How is he supposed to respect her now?
—
Wilhelm found himself sitting under the ancient redwood, rain pouring down around him enough that the branches and needles no longer kept the base of the tree dry. He couldn't find it in himself to care.
A wife.
Wife .
The word felt bitter on his tongue when associated with himself. Wilhelm had never wanted a wife even as a child. Never really cared to have children either even though he has played with dolls with the girls. It wasn't really by choice, but it was better than getting his hands dirty when the boys had dug in the dirt for bugs. His parents had never pushed for him to be normal . Only once had they brought up the fact that he didn't play with the other boys. Otherwise, they basically ignored him.
Erik knew, or at least Wilhelm suspected that Erik knew about his deviance . It was assumed that the queen and prince consort knew as well, but decided it didn't matter what he did as a spare.
But a wife ?
In his anger, Wilhelm dug his fingers into the mud forming at his sides. Immediately, he regretted it as he felt the mud and dirt find its way under his nails and between his fingers. The sound of the deluge covered his screams of frustration. Frustrated at the stupid dirt, at his mother, his brother .
Wilhelm had always liked himself when he was alone and could forget he was being judged for every little thing he did; when he could forget he was a prince. He liked that he enjoyed reading and playing music. Liked taking walks in the gardens or going riding in the forest. Enjoyed finding pretty rocks in the creek and storing his finds in a glass jar on his window sill.
Why couldn't his own family like Wille for who he was? He was so tired of not being able to just be Wille .
Brackish water tainted the prince's cheek. Hot, salty tears mixing with cold fresh water. Rain dripped from his hair and clung to his lashes. A sob shook the prince's body. The sound drowned out by the storm.
Eventually, Wilhelm made his way back inside soaked and dirty and miserable. The staff he passed looked at him with concern as the young prince had his hands as well as his boots and pants caked in mud. A trail of water and mud followed him. Any other time, he would have apologized for his inconsiderate behavior, but he didn't have it in him at the moment.
A wife…
"Sir, are you all right?" One of the servants that helped raise him asked. Wilhelm ignored him and kept walking with his head down, hair stuck to his face.
Wilhelm's mood over the next couple of months continued to sour.
His birthday was fast approaching.
Most days were spent in his room snuggled in a nest of blankets, pillows, and furs in front of the fireplace with a stack of books. Trays of food would come and go, most food still intact. Sometimes Erik would sneak in Wilhelm’s nephews, Even and Isak, aged four and two. Two little toddlers were always a handful and easily took Wilhelm’s mind off of the upcoming circumstances. Even and Isak were good distractions. They would lift the young prince’s mood while they were there, but as soon as they were gone, Wilhelm was back to hiding in his nest.
—
Sara was excited to say the least. The whole family was going to the castle for a ball. Prince Wilhelm’s twentieth birthday ball. Maybe she would get to dance with the prince!
“Simme!” Sara’s voice drifted into his room where Simon lay on his bed, tossing a ball up and catching it. His other arm bent behind his head. He made no effort to move. Simon was having an off day, not wanting to really be around others. Another toss of the ball and Sara managed to catch it, or rather, send it off course so it ended up somewhere on the other side of Simon’s room. With a sigh at the intrusion, Simon rested his hand on the pendant on his chest, hidden under his tunic.
“What do you want, Sara?” Simon did nothing to hide his irritation.
“Look! We’re going to the castle next month!” A gorgeously illustrated paper is shoved into his line of vision, the calligraphy was stunning he had to admit. “Prince Wilhelm is turning twenty and the queen wants him to find a wife, so she’s holding a ball and eligible ladies are required to attend.”
Simon’s stomach turned. A wife?
His fingers tightened around the pendant on his chest.
After the flame azalea had been flattened and dried, Simon turned it into a pendant. Metalwork and jewelry making was a hobby of his. The pendant and the note were the only things he had of Prince Wilhelm and their short time together. Maybe Simon had been just a phase, an experiment for the prince. Fuck.
“Who cares, Sara.”
“What if that boy you met is still there? You could hook up while I dance with the prince,” she winked, clearly thinking she was clever. Simon rolled his eyes.
The next month was filled with Sara dancing around the house, practicing for her dance with Prince Wilhelm. Simon hated it. Nausea was his constant companion. Even knowing that the ball was for Wille to find a wife, Simon kept the flame azalea pendant around his neck, unwilling to forget their time together, however fleeting it may have been. That afternoon in the castle's music room had been the best afternoon of his life.
Wilhelm's body hovering above his as the prince became just a boy who wanted to wrestle and tickle, the warmth had felt like honey seeping into his skin. And then the delicate press of soft lips against his…
"Simon, mi amor , are you ready yet?" Linda stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame.
"Hm?" He looked up at his mother from his desk where he had his jewelry making equipment out, a chisel with a tiny 'v' tip in his hand. The carving of a flame azalea was taking shape on a small tin of metal.
"Did you forget we were leaving in the morning?"
Simon bit his lower lip, he definitely forgot. He really wasn't looking forward to seeing Prince Wilhelm again. Except he was. Gods, it was so confusing. Suffice it to say, Simon didn't sleep that night and barely managed a couple hour nap in the carriage ride to the castle.
The roads were a lot busier this time around since it wasn't just the Eriksson's who were invited and there was a line to get to the castle steps. He didn't notice when they had reached the front of the line until the carriage door swung open and his parents were exiting, followed by Sara. With a sigh, Simon slunk out.
"Simon," Wille's voice was quiet. The prince was wearing a similar jerkin to one he had worn when they first met. This time though, the threading was silver with embroidered flowers, azaleas to be exact, accentuated with golden thread, all on a high thread count black linen. It looked soft. When Simon met the prince's eyes, (he had to look higher than before which for some reason caused a swoop in his belly) those soft brown orbs were so full of contradicting emotions. "It's really wonderful to see you again,” his voice was breathy. “I'd lead you to your room, but I have to greet the- the guests." He seemed guilty at the mention of the reason why everyone was there.
"As long as you save a dance for me, huh?" Simon tried to smile. All the feelings he had felt for Wille were rushing to the surface, making his heart clench and his chest tight.
"If I could, I'd dance with you all night." Simon gasped at the prince's confession. Wilhelm gave his hand a squeeze before giving him a shallow bow. He could feel Wilhelm's eyes on him as he followed his family inside.
His family was sharing a suite this time as there was no room for single occupancies due to the number of guests at the castle. In Simon's small room, he found his bags on the bed and a note on the pillow.
Azaleas symbolize remembrance of home and a desire to one day return to it
W
Simon held the crisp paper in one hand, the fingers of the other pressed against his lips as he slowly sat on the mattress, eyes taking in the words. His fingers moved from his lips to the pendant under his tunic.
"Wille," Simon breathed. Maybe it was real for the prince.
—
The young prince was exhausted. Hours of greeting guests or as the queen would say, potential brides. It would have been completely terribly awful had it not been for seeing Simon again. Touching his hand, seeing his depthless dark eyes and those beautiful, unruly curls. No one could blame Wilhelm for noticing that Simon’s curls nearly touched his shoulders now. All he wanted was to embrace the boy, but he couldn't.
He wondered if Simon had gotten his note as he followed the last guest into the castle and retired to his chamber before the evening feast.
Wilhelm felt dead on his feet as he slumped over to his bed, but stopped short when he saw a piece of paper on his pillow. Before picking it up, Wille looked around his room to see if anything was out of place. Everything looked as it should be.
Unfolding the paper, he was graced with a slightly messy scrawl.
I send you through this letter greetings for as much joy as is contained within the fullness of our hearts, greetings which walk amidst the clouds and which the Sun and his Moon bring to you. When I go to bed, you are ever on my mind; and when I sleep, I dream always of you. Stay well in the day and sleep well at night.
S
Wilhelm read the words over and over. His heart bursting with something he had only felt once on a small sofa next to a harpsichord, pressing lips to lips for more than a palmers kiss. Wille would sin a thousand times if he was allowed just an ounce of that boy in his life.
The next week was filled with notes inconspicuously put in hands in passing or to servants who knew of Wille and would never out him, resting notes on pillows. Some are sweet and soft like a cuddle on a lazy morning. Others are longing, just wanting to be held. While still some others tug on heartstrings, yearning for more than brushes of fingers and looks across the room.
Every night, Wilhelm was giddy to get to his room for the note that would be sitting neatly on his pillow. He only hoped Simon was just as excited to find a note on his own pillow before bed.
What is hidden beneath your clothes? —My restless mind!
How I long to caress what I imagine!
But fortune and modesty impede my will,
and public rumor, sweetest—which I dread.
If I could see you, dear, as often as I wish,
(Would it could be three times in every day!)
That night would be more radiant than noon.
S
Wilhelm's breath whooshed out of him. The letters may have become more suggestive as the days went by, but this… This made Wilhelm want to be reckless. To summon (quietly of course) Simon to his room, so that they could both touch and caress. To learn and know the other in ways Wilhelm has never known another being. He wanted that with Simon and Simon alone.
The fact that Simon is only here because he was invited as a guest of his sister brought back the harshness of reality crashing down upon him. He was to find a wife . Not someone to love because royalty don't marry for love according to the queen. Erik keeps telling him it's possible to have love as he has it with Liliana. Wilhelm couldn't help but think that Erik had just been lucky to find such a partner in the lady he chose to court.
Wilhelm met with lady after lady before the actual ball and felt nothing . And he'll never feel anything for any of them because they weren't Simon. If Wilhelm felt connected to the boy nearly four years ago, it's nothing compared to now. The words inked into paper have made his love bloom and roots grow deep. He doesn't know how he's going to survive his mother's order without breaking both of their hearts.
He won't.
—
Simon bid his family goodnight. It was relatively early still, but he wanted, needed, to read Wille's letter. He craved the contact, however indirect it was. Wilhelm's letter didn't disappoint.
Forgive me, I confess: I love not patiently.
You have vanquished me, whom none could vanquish,
And so I burn the brighter, for this is my first love:
Never before has the flame pierced to my marrow.
If ever I loved before, I was but lukewarm.
W
The words wound around Simon's heart, encasing it in the protective love of the young prince. Roots took hold, burrowing ever deeper into his soul. Never had he thought he would have such strong feelings and for the prince no less! Sometimes it startled Simon how deep he had gotten, how fast and hard he had fallen, letting his heart lead the way. Never once did he question whether or not he should jump head first off this cliff when he had no idea if anyone would be there to catch him at the bottom. He just jumped.
His heart was wholly Wilhelm's. It could never be anyone else's. Wilhelm owned his heart and soul and Simon wouldn't have it any other way.
He lay on the bed, reading and rereading all of the letters Wilhelm had given him. Some were just a scrap with a hastily drawn heart or miss you scrawled onto the white fibers. Most were short verses of Wilhelm's declaration of love for him. Simon adored them all.
Simon was interrupted by Sara however. In the middle of picking up the next letter in the lineup, Sara barged in and before Simon could safely secure the letters from prying eyes, she nabbed one.
"What is this, dear brother?" She quickly glanced at it, though not reading it, giving Simon a chance to explain. "Did you find your boy again?"
"Give it back, Sara!" He tried to reach for it, but she was quicker, lifting it out of reach. "Please!" A little desperation slipped through causing Sara's eyebrows to lift, her curiosity piqued.
She cleared her throat, " For from the day that I first saw you I began to love you. " She waggled her eyebrows at him. " You penetrated my heart’s inmost being forcefully, and, through the advance of your most joyous conversation, have, wondrous to tell, arranged your own seat there, and, lest any impulse should topple it, have fastened it most firmly by your letter writing, as if the seat were a stool, or rather, a throne. W." She paused, clearly reading through the words again, understanding slowly coating her features. "W? A throne?"
"Give it back, please," Simon begged, knowing she had already figured it out, knowing he had broken her trust. His eyes were glassy with tears, his hand outstretched, wanting, needing , that letter back. No one else was supposed to see. These were private, intimate moments between Simon and Wilhelm. No one else.
"Who is 'W,' Simon?" Her hand started clenching around the letter, crinkling the smooth paper. Sara had a pretty good idea who 'W' was and she was definitely upset. More than upset. Furious. And rightfully so. She had been invited to the castle to have her chance to win the hand of the prince whose hand was already taken behind closed doors. "Why didn't you tell me?!" She yelled. "I would have done anything to help you, but now, now I hate you!" Tears fell down her cheeks as any hope she may have had with Prince Wilhelm was squashed by her own brother. She didn't return the letter, didn't give her brother a second look as she stormed out, slamming the door to his room.
—
A crumpled note was hastily placed in his hand by a bereft looking Simon who wouldn't even make eye contact. At his first opportunity, Wilhelm finds a quiet alcove and flattens the paper.
Sara found out. She stole one of the notes. I'm freaking out.
Wilhelm's heart started racing.
"Sir?"
Fuck!
"Sir!" Olivia touched his bicep causing him to flinch. "Sorry, but you're needed in the drawing room." She looks him over, noting the panic in his eyes. "Wha-" The note is shoved into her palm before the prince strides away to the drawing room, emotions shoved down. Shoved deep down. Breathing really wasn't necessary, was it?
Olivia read the scribbled words and gasped before pressing the letter to her chest. Her thoughts raced, unsure of how to help her prince.
Erik.
Erik will know what to do. He didn't even want this ball to come to fruition. Her feet take her to the crown prince's chambers with haste.
—
Wilhelm couldn't think. He should be listening to this dull, superficial conversation, but he can't. Sara knows. She knows . Who else knows? Who else did she show the letter to? He bit at his thumbnail, eyes unfocused.
"Wilhelm?"
A soft dark brown hand touched his knee. Right, yes, Felice. The girl he's supposed to be getting to know to decide if he'd like to- to marry .
"Are you alright? You seem like your mind is elsewhere." Her dark eyes look concerned. The color is familiar, but they're the wrong shape, more doe eyed than the ones he loves.
"Oh, yes. My apologies, Lady Felice. Headache," he grimaced at the lie.
"Is this about the letter?"
Wilhelm turned his head so fast, his neck cracked. His eyes are wide with shock and surprise, "What?"
Felice reached into the folds of her dress ( dresses have pockets? Wilhelm thought) and pulled out a piece of paper that had been crumpled up and then flattened again. She offered it to him, Wilhelm took it with a shaky hand. He inhaled sharply when he saw his handwriting and words meant only for Simon.
"How? What?" Wilhelm stuttered over several words, but was unable to form any coherent thought. Felice moved from her seat across from him to sit next to him, sliding an arm over his shoulders.
"Wille." Wilhelm looked at her with wide, scared eyes. She set a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing away the tear that broke free. "Everything will be okay." He wasn't sure how she could sound so confident as he shook his head, her hand still cradling his face. "It will," she smiled softly. "Sara came barging into the larger sitting room where me and several of the other girls were having some fun last night, drinking and playing cards. Anyway, she was so upset, yelling about how this whole ball was a farce and that the prince, you obviously, wasn't looking for a wife." Felice saw the rise in panic on the prince's face and decided to get to the point. She sucked in a deep breath, "What I'm trying to say is that all of us girls had a chat." Another tear slipped down the prince's cheek, Felice gently wiped it away. "Everyone has agreed that you need to choose Simon." Wilhelm stopped breathing. "The girls know you won't be happy with any of us when you so clearly love another." Both of Felice's hands cradled Wilhelm's face now. "You deserve happiness, Wilhelm. And you won't find it with any of us."
"Felice," Wilhelm could not believe what he was hearing.
A soft, sweet smile pulled at her lips, "We'll still have loads of fun at the ball as expected, but you, Prince Wilhelm, will be dancing with Simon. What do you say?" A small sob burst forth from his lungs. "Oh, darling," she whispered before pulling him against her chest, his forehead pressed to her neck as he worked his way through the sobs. "Shh, it's okay." Felice rocked the prince gently back and forth.
Several minutes filled with soft shushing, sniffling, and sobbing passed when all that's left was the occasional sniffle.
"But mamma won't allow that," Wilhelm finally said after finding his voice again. He sounded resigned.
"I'm not sure if she can argue with a hundred angry women," Felice said with finality and a perfectly arched brow.
Wilhelm just continued to look at her in disbelief, mouth slightly agape.
—
Sat on a bench in the garden, the bush of the flame azalea at his back, buds waiting to ignite into life, Simon lets his fingers toy with the pendant around his neck. Eyes unfocused, aimed at the ground where flower petals from the fruit trees flit about his view.
Simon feels guilty for keeping his courting (was it courting? A relationship?) with the prince from his sister. But he hadn’t felt like he could speak of it. They were more or less a secret, not that Simon wanted to be a secret, but he was a moth to fire and Wilhelm was a blazing inferno. Wilhelm felt like home in a way and he didn't want to let go. Couldn ' t let go.
But he would have to. Simon knew that after the ball, his heart would be irreparably damaged when the prince chose a bride and their fleeting love would become no more than a painful memory.
He screwed his eyes shut as he closed his fist around the flame azalea pendant. The carved metal holding the two panes of glass sandwiching the dried flower leaving indents in his skin. Metal bit at his palm, the twinge of pain a welcome comfort to accompany the aching in his heart.
There's a rustle of fabric and footsteps behind him causing Simon to tuck his necklace back under his tunic, brush hastily at his face and straighten his spine.
"May I sit with you?"
Simon looks up to find a pretty young woman in a colorful pastel dress, with a slit down the front of skirt revealing tight beige breeches, hair done up in an unusual way and a voice with an accent he can't place. He just nods. Who is he to say no to nobility?
"I'm Madison, friends call me Maddie," she stated as she sat down next to him and thrust her hand at him.
"Simon." Gingerly, he took her hand, but she was having none of that as she gripped his hand firmly.
"I'm not fragile," she smirked. Simon huffed a laugh. "Anyway, I'm here to let you know that me and most of the girls here back you and the prince. You're very cute together."
All Simon could do was blink at Madison - Maddie - what was her name?
"Your sister is a piece of work, you know that?" Not waiting for an actual answer, she just blabbed on how Sara went to the girls and they all calmed her down, only to then all kind of freak out at being deceived by the crown - "Not Wilhelm, he's so sweet!" - but the queen who obviously wasn't okay with the young prince's deviance. "But we are all for shipping you and Wilhelm. Because you know what? Love is love and who cares about fucking tradition!" She emphasized with an eye roll and flailing arms. "I, myself, have a girlfriend who is also here, which is kind of hilarious. This whole thing is so ridiculous, I mean really! It isn’t the thirteenth century anymore!"
Simon felt himself relaxing a bit as he listened to Maddie go on and on about the stupidity of tradition and the oppression of people who are different. Most of her opinions he also shared. It was nice to know he wasn't alone in his beliefs on human rights.
When he finally made it back to his room, Simon felt quite a bit better about everything regarding Wilhelm. That was until he saw a note barely visible under his pillow. He tensed before reaching to pull it out. Wilhelm's handwriting greeted him, but it wasn't enough to ease the tightness in his shoulders. If anything the words made it worse. All of the hope Madison had given him slowly faded because what if Wilhelm decided he couldn’t handle this? What if Queen Kristina was that much of a bitch that she would force Wilhelm into a life he never wanted?
Music room
Midnight
Please
Following the order - request - were directions that made the corner of his lips pull up because of course Wilhelm knew Simon wouldn't remember how to get there.
—
Wilhelm paced the length of the music room. The only light coming from the candles atop the harpsichord. He hoped Simon would meet him. He needed to see him. His teeth had chewed at his thumbnail all day, so much so that the skin around it was raw and irritated.
Another turn on his heel and his hands are tugging at the roots of his hair. It's well past midnight. Simon isn't coming.
"Fuck," Wilhelm muttered as he doubled over on himself, hitting the heels if his palms against the crown of his head. Crouched down, Wilhelm tried his hardest to breathe. That seemed to be the activity of the day - "just breathe, Wilhelm."
"Wille?"
Simon was crouched down next to him, hand hovered a millimeter away from his shoulder, waiting for the okay to touch. Wilhelm set his hand on top of Simon's to press Simon's palm to his shoulder. The warmth of Simon’s hand had a soothing effect on the prince which let his lungs start taking in the proper amount of air.
"Simme, I didn't think you were coming," Wilhelm winced at how vulnerable he sounded.
"Come here," Simon urged as he stood, a hand held out. Wille took it without hesitation. He was pulled to sit on the sofa, thigh to thigh with Simon, hands still clasped together. Simon lifted his free hand to tuck a lock of Wilhelm's hair behind his ear, the prince leaned into it. "You're beautiful, did you know that?" Simon smiled solemnly. Voice no more than a whisper to keep from breaking the bubble they found themselves in.
Wilhelm felt his cheeks and ears heat because no, he didn't know that. Never felt that way about himself and no one ever actually told him such things. He just shakes his head a smidge before leaning in for a soft press of lips to the corner of Simon's mouth.
The only sound in the room for several minutes is just their breathing. Foreheads pressed together, fingers twined, the only way to tell whose is whose is by color. Wilhelm stares at their hands, his own thumb moving back and forth over glowing bronze colored skin. It's soft. The corner of his mouth pulls up.
"Wille, are we going to be okay?" Simon's voice barely makes it to Wilhelm's ear. The prince pulls back just enough so he can focus on the boy he loves. The beautiful dark eyes looking back at him are glassy, worried.
Wilhelm pulled a hand away from the tangle of fingers to place it on Simon's jaw, fingers splayed against the boy's neck as his thumb caressed over the soft skin below Simon's eye. "We didn't do anything wrong," Wilhelm said with conviction. It may have been the first time that the young prince really believed what he said. He knew the love he felt for Simon wasn't wrong. How could it be when Simon made him feel so real , grounded? Simon made Wilhelm feel whole .
"No, we didn't," Simon agreed as he dropped his head into Wilhelm's shoulder, seeking comfort. “Madison, one of the ladies who was invited, she talked to me today,” Simon started, Wilhelm hummed for him to continue. “Told me about Sara ranting to the girls and how the girls seem to be on our side,” the hope he had earlier started to seep back into him.
“Good to know that Lady Felice isn’t a liar,” Wilhelm huffed a laugh. Simon twisted his neck so he could look up at Wilhelm with a question in his eye. The prince smiled at him before he pressed a lingering kiss to Simon’s forehead. “I had a very similar conversation with Lady Felice,” he elaborated after resting his cheek against Simon’s head. “She said that all the girls are rooting for us.” Simon chuckled at the thought of standing in the great hall with him and Wille dancing in the middle and all the ladies clapping and cheering for them.
The boys sat there in comfortable silence for a while, just being content with enjoying each other's company when Wille remembered the letter in his pocket, “Oh.” He unlaced the fingers of one hand from their cluster of fingers, leaned back just a tad to be able to reach into his pocket and pulled out the paper. “I think this belongs to you.”
Simon let go of Wilhelm’s hand and took the paper apprehensively. As soon as he saw Wilhelm’s familiar letters, he gasped, “How did you get this back?”
“Felice.”
“Thank you,” Simon looked at Wille earnestly.
“Of course. It belongs to you.”
Simon was suddenly overwhelmed with the intense adoration shining at him from Wilhelm’s eyes. “Wille,” he pleaded, though he wasn’t sure what for. The air turned heavy between them just before Wilhelm surged forward to capture Simon’s lips with his. His hands cradled Simon’s face as Simon wound his arms around Wilhelm’s waist, pulling him closer.
Simon’s lower lip slotted perfectly between Wilhelm’s, gently sucking it into his mouth. A soft whimper fell out of the boy's mouth; Wille smiled into the next kiss. It was such a different experience the last time they kissed in this room. Then, it had been tentative and careful. Now, it was hands and heaving chests, soft whimpers and whines. Wilhelm set a hand on Simon’s chest, softly pushing the boy down to lay flat on the sofa, his lips following, unable to part just yet.
"Is this okay?" Wille asked as he settled between Simon's legs.
"Very," Simon breathed as he wrapped his arms around Wille's neck, pulling him down into a searing kiss. It was hot, heady and messy and it was definitely the most alive Simon has ever felt. Every point of contact made Simon crave more more more . All he wanted was to feel . His fingers grabbed the hem of his tunic, Wille quickly figured out what was happening, breaking their kiss, hastily throwing his tunic to the floor, then helped Simon do the same. Trousers followed shortly thereafter and the prince was back between Simon's legs.
"Hey," Wilhelm sighed once he had settled back down, hips pressed into Simon's, both fully aware of how turned on the other was.
"Hey," Simon felt lost in Wilhelm's depthless eyes, glinting in the candlelight.
"You're beautiful." Disbelief flashed over Simon's features. "You are," Wilhelm promised, "So beautiful." The prince set out to prove his words. Prove that Simon was the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes on. Worshiping Simon was as easy as breathing for Wilhelm. His lips swept over his golden skin, his fingers danced over curves and dips, his heart soared with love. Now that Wilhelm has touched Simon's soft, warm skin he never wants to stop.
Every sound that slipped past Simon's wet, luscious lips only spurred Wilhelm on. His only mission to bring Simon pure ecstasy, show him he was beautiful, that he was - is - loved.
"Wille…" Simon's hand searched for Wilhelm's, one fell into his hair, tugging at the roots. Wille caught his other hand, twining their fingers together. Simon let out a sweet sigh at the contact, squeezing Wille's hand. The prince placed a reverent kiss to the skin above Simon's heart, the boy arched into the touch, a soft "oh" escaping his lips.
"Beautiful," Wilhelm hoped to burn the word, the feeling into Simon's skin.
—
His fingers floated above Simon's chest in the early morning light, careful to not wake the boy. The comfort of Simon's warm skin against his cheek made Wilhelm never want to move. He was tucked between the back of the sofa and Simon's side with Simon's arm draped over his shoulders, his even breath ruffling the hair over Wille's forehead.
Last night was the best time of the young prince's life. The connection between both of them felt like it could never be broken now. He just hoped his mother would understand. Wilhelm couldn't lose Simon. They had each other's hearts. Wilhelm had given Simon his heart on a silver platter, last night and in every word of every letter they had shared.
Simon sucked in a breath of air as he stirred, tightening his grip on Wille. Wilhelm couldn't stop the smile that pulled at his lips.
"Good morning," he said softly, tilting his head so he could look up at Simon.
"Hi," Simon replied, voice low and gravelly. Wilhelm would be lying if he said that that didn't turn him on. The smirk on the other's face told the prince that he knew it too. They were very naked and pressed together under the throw blanket they managed to find last night, legs tangled together. There was no way to ignore the current situation.
Wilhelm shifted so he could kiss the smirk right off his face. Who could blame them when it turned a little heady? Simon rolled his hips into Wilhelm's thigh, both moaned at the sensation.
"I love you." The words just fell out of Wilhelm's mouth into Simon's in between breathing and messy kisses. Simon's arms only pulled his prince closer, whining as they both chased their high.
"Wille," Simon moaned. It didn't take long for both of them to fall over that blissful edge. Their chests heaved, their lips locked together in an almost kiss. "I love you, Wille," Simon's lips brushed against Wille's as he spoke.
The corners of Wilhelm's lips pulled up and he smiled into their next kiss. The happiness that filled his chest bubbled out of him in near silent giggles. Simon thought his prince was adorable and let the infectiousness of Wilhelm's happiness flood over him as well. They became a pile of limbs and laughter.
Simon wasn't sure if he'd ever felt like this before. Like he was worth something to someone. Of course he had his family who loved him and cared for him, but familial love is vastly different from romantic love. The way Wilhelm's hands had worshiped him, giving and giving, with no concern for himself, as if Wilhelm got his pleasure from pleasing Simon. Though, Simon did reciprocate. Of course he did. Relationships require give and take.
"Can we just stay here all day?"
Wilhelm sighed, "I wish. The ball is today."
Simon tensed under him. "What are you going to do?"
The prince lifted his head from where it was cradled in the crook of Simon's shoulder. "I'm going to choose you. I already chose you." Wilhelm closed his eyes and swallowed harshly, "If you'll have me."
"Dumbass," Simon shook his head fondly. "I'm yours and you're mine. It's like you didn't read my letters." Wilhelm groaned happily as he planted his face back against Simon's neck. The curly haired boy just giggled and held his prince close.
Wilhelm pulled away slightly to focus on the hard thing that was against his forehead. "What's this?" His fingers grazed the metal of the pendant that he pulled up from where it had rested on the pillow. "Is that-?"
"The flower you left in my bag the first time we met? Yeah." A light flush coats Simon's cheeks. "I made it."
The prince jerked his head up to look at Simon with wonder. "You- you made this?" He looked back down at the necklace in complete awe.
"Mmh. I do metalwork and jewelry making in my spare time," Simon shrugged as much as he could while laying down and covered with a prince.
"It's so beautiful. Gods, you are so amazing," Wilhelm met Simon's eyes again. Simon almost wanted to squirm under Wilhelm's gaze that was so full of adoration and amazement, but he held steady as he realized that his beautiful prince had so much love to give.
Despite knowing they need to get up and get ready for the day, they don't. At least for another hour or so. They were just too comfortable caressing each other's bodies, trading soft kisses and talking.
They learned quite a lot about each other. Wilhelm's favorite color was green, Simon purple. They both enjoyed reading and music, though Simon had no idea how to read music, he could only play by ear. Wilhelm promised to teach him. Simon talked about how he came about jewelry making and how much he enjoyed it as Wilhelm listened with rapt attention.
"Wille?"
The door to the music room is thrown open. Wilhelm grabs the blanket and pulls it up to their chests to feel slightly less exposed as Erik stands in the doorway, mouth agape.
"Shut the fucking door, Erik!" Wilhelm yelled.
Erik did, but didn't get the idea to also be on the other side of it.
"What!?" Wilhelm looked at his brother with wide eyes and completely flushed. He was beyond embarrassed. He was butt ass naked with the boy he loved who was also butt ass naked and didn't really feel like having his brother - the crown fucking prince - staring at them.
Simon has his face buried in Wilhelm's neck snickering at the absurdity of the events that were unfolding.
"Uhm, well you weren't in your room, so I thought you would be here and, uh, well, uhm, you are." At least Erik finally had the forethought to be embarrassed at the current situation, his cheeks also stained pink as he rubbed at the back of his neck and averted his eyes.
"Okay, can you leave now?" Wilhelm just wanted this moment to end. If the floor opened up and swallowed him whole right now, he would gladly accept his fate because fuck.
"No, uhm, no, no not really," Erik stuttered as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
"Could we put on some clothes?" Simon asked meekly.
"Oh! Yes, yes of course." Erik spun around and stepped outside the door.
"Oh my gods," Wille groaned into Simon's neck. The other boy just laughed. "Really?" Wille looked at Simon incredulously before laughing himself. "Fuck," he muttered as he sat up and grabbed their clothes off the floor.
"Are you decent yet?" Erik's voice was muffled from the other side of the door.
Wilhelm muttered some choice words at his brother under his breath that caused Simon to giggle more as he pulled his tunic over his head. Simon leaned over to Wille and gave his cheek a quick peck which earned him a soft smile. A smile that Simon was confident was only given to him. It was special and he couldn't help but lean in again to know what that smile felt like against his own lips.
"I love you," Simon whispered, lips moving against Wilhelm's, making the prince shiver.
"I love you, too, Simme," Wilhelm replied softly nudging their noses together. He took a deep breath and turned to face the door, "Come in, Erik."
The crown prince entered, a bit more cautiously this time. "Sorry about before. I wasn't, uh, expecting, well," Erik gestured a hand a little wildly at his younger brother and the other boy. Wilhelm crossed his arms over his chest, looking unimpressed, waiting for his brother to get to the point. "Yes, well," Erik continued, still feeling the earlier embarrassment. "I would like to say that I would like to talk about this," he gestured to the two boys. "But, Wille, if you're not ready, that's fine."
"Erik," Wilhelm warned impatiently.
"Calm your tits, lillebror ," Erik held his hands up in a placating way. Wille rolled his eyes, as he attempted to hide his smirk. Simon barely hid his snort. Erik started a slow pace around the room. "So, it seems that most of the girls mother invited all know that you want nothing to do with them because your heart belongs to another," he gestured to Simon, "They are more or less furious with the crown - not you Wille - and they want to do everything they can to make sure you get your happily ever after."
"Lady Felice and Lady Madison may have mentioned that to us," Wilhelm stated.
Erik noticed his brother's hand move where it had been residing draped around Simon's shoulders, his hand made soothing motions against the other boy's bicep which caused Simon to lean more into Wille. It was such a loving gesture that Erik took a second to gather himself and watched the two interact for a few moments. Wilhelm looked over at Simon who was basically tucked into Wilhelm's side. The young prince's face switched from annoyed at Erik to a fool in love in an instant. Erik watched as Wille used his free hand to fix some of Simon's curls with what seemed like a private smile on his face. The crown prince felt like he shouldn't even be looking at their shared moment. It was such a sweet and intimate moment that Erik quickly dropped his eyes to the floor.
"Did you tell momma?" Wilhelm was looking at Erik again, features turned stony again.
"No," Erik glanced up again. Simon was no longer sitting next to Wilhelm, instead he was grabbing the lute that was next to the harpsichord. "I feel like giving her prior knowledge will give her time to stop whatever the ladies are planning."
Wilhelm nodded, but didn't really seem to be paying his brother much mind as his eyes followed Simon. The boy sat at the bench and gently started plucking the strings.
"Wille," Erik waited until he had his brother's attention which took a few moments. "When did you two, uh, get so close?"
With a small huff of a laugh, a soft smile accompanied by a blush, Wilhelm ducked his head, hair falling into his face. "I- there was a connection we made four years ago when the Eriksson's came for provisions. I was drawn to him," Wilhelm turned to look at Simon who was hiding his own blushing face as he quietly picked at the strings. "But as you know, we didn't have a lot of time to get to know each other. When he left though, I felt like a part of me was missing." Simon looked up at Wille then, wonder in his eyes. "And then he was here again during horrible circumstances," Simon smiled sadly at him, "But we started exchanging letters every day, sometimes multiple times a day and I don't know. I can't stay away from him. Simon means everything to me. I love him." Wilhelm turned to finally look at Erik again, eyes a little glassy with his confession.
"Wille," Simon breathed as he set down the lute and collapsed into Wilhelm's arms. The young prince held Simon tightly in his arms as he looked at his brother, daring him to say something.
"Fuck, Wille," he chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "I've never seen you so sure about anything before." He moved to sit down next to the boys. "I will make sure you two can stay together. You clearly make each other happy."
"He's okay," Simon straightened up a little and shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Hey!" Wille cried in indignation.
Both Simon and Erik laughed at him.
—
Wilhelm separated from his brother and Simon, but not before sneaking a kiss that Erik courteously turned around for. As soon as he entered his chambers, he was met with a very upset Queen Kristina and tailor, Sven.
"Wilhelm, where on earth have you been? Are those the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?" Her eyebrows raised high onto her forehead. "So, you've chosen a Lady then?" She seemed impressed. "Will we be rushing the wedding?"
The young prince was frozen. His lungs stopped working, Wilhelm wasn't even sure if his heart was beating.
His mother thought that he had stayed the night with one of the ladies. Oh gods . "I fell asleep in the music room." He hoped she would believe him and leave it at that, but alas, that was asking too much.
"Oh, Wilhelm. You don't need to lie about finally deciding on one of the girls," she said smugly.
"But I-"
"Oh, stop being a prude! I don't care that you fucked a girl. Honestly, I'm quite happy about it. You've finally come to your senses."
Wilhelm wanted to run. He felt at such a loss with his mother. She didn't care about him at all, only about how his image reflected on the crown.
During his final fitting, Wilhelm tried to breath as he clenched and unclenched his fists. The tailor eyed him worryingly whenever the queen wasn't watching.
"Dark blue is such a lovely color of you, your Lady will love it," the queen smiled and it made Wilhelm's stomach twist and flip with how genuine it was.
"Thanks, mamma," he choked out. The pressure behind his eyes was becoming unbearable. He only hoped that the invisible hand that was strangling him would stop soon.
"I'll leave you to finish getting ready, gubben ." She lovingly pat her son's cheek. Thankfully, she turned towards the door when the tear she lodged loose fell.
"Your highness," the tailor spoke softly. Wilhelm looked to the old man who had made all of his clothes his entire life. "I hope you choose that boy you love." Wilhelm's eyes just about popped out of his head. Sven's face softened, "Oh, my dear boy," he set his hands on Wilhelm's shoulders. "My partner, Gustav and I are rooting for you," Sven winked.
"You-"
Sven nodded as he gave Wilhelm's shoulders a squeeze. "It would mean everything to those like us if you lived your truth. Show the world there's nothing wrong with us. We're just people who love just like everyone else."
"Sven," Wilhelm laughed wetly before pulling the old man into a tight embrace.
—
"You really don't have to do this," Simon said to the crown prince who more or less dragged the boy to his personal chambers.
"Oh, I know. I want to," Erik stayed as he dug through his wardrobe. Once he found some of his older formal wear, he exclaimed, "Ah ha!" He pulled out a gorgeous lavender jarkin with golden embroidery of the flame azalea along every hem. "This should fit," Erik held the garment up to Simon.
Simon's eyes were wide as he looked over the silk and incredible detailing of the flowers. "This- this is too much," Simon insisted.
"Wille will be wearing a dark blue one with the same embroidery. You'll match!" The beaming smile on Erik's face made Simon cave. The light and joy radiating off of him was palpable and who was Simon to disappoint the crown prince?
—
Wilhelm was a flurry of nerves with every passing minute that brought the feast closer. He hadn't heard from anyone since he left his boy and his brother late this morning. It took the young prince mere minutes to finish getting ready after Sven had left. They had talked for a while and Wilhelm pleaded with every force and higher being that he was strong enough and brave enough to do what needed to be done. That the queen wouldn't manipulate him in a moment of anxiety to follow tradition.
Sven had been right though. Wilhelm needed to live his truth. Needed to be free to love the boy that claimed his heart. Be free to just be Wille . To love and cherish Simon in the way he deserved. Which was loud and openly. The young prince owed it to himself as well, he shouldn't have to hide, shouldn't have to be put in a locked box where the only key sat in his mother's hand.
The box needed to be broken; the key melted down into something useful so no one else will have to be shoved in and told to be what they aren't. Wilhelm hoped that he could be the change he wished to see in the world. A world where no one had to hide who they are, who they love.
The young prince squared his shoulders and lifted his chin as the knights opened the doors to the grand hall that had been decorated to the nines for his birthday. Chatter echoed around the vast space as several heads turned towards him. He spotted Lady Felice in a frilly pink gown next to Lady Madison in a trouser dress ensemble that he was sure some of the other ladies frowned upon.
His eyes darted around, trying to find a certain curly haired boy that held his heart. After searching the room twice, Wilhelm tried to not let his absence bother him as he greeted his guests on the way to his spot next to the crown prince.
"Here, here," a voice sounded around the room to quiet the chatter.
"Welcome to all of you and thank you for making the journey here. We hope that you have enjoyed your stay over the past week and have gotten to know our birthday boy."
A gentle applause followed her introduction. Wilhelm felt his ears starting to heat, wondering how much his mother was going to embarrass him in front of all of these ladies and their families.
"As all of you young ladies know, Prince Wilhelm is to choose one of you as his wife," she paused briefly. Wilhelm guessed she was expecting some sort of bigger reaction instead of the quiet muttering. After a brief moment of awkward silence, she went on to explain the schedule for the evening.
Wine started pouring as soon as she sat back down and the volume in the hall went back up.
"Hey there, lillebror ," Erik leaned over so their mother wouldn't be able to eavesdrop. "Don't you worry your pretty little head. He's here," he winked before turning back to his food, quickly jumping into the conversation Queen Kristina was having with Prince Consort Ludvig.
Wilhelm let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Simon was here. Everything would be okay. He had so many people on his side. Most or all of the ladies who had been invited, his brother, and multiple servants that Wilhelm considered friends. And of course, Simon.
Simon would give him strength. The boy makes him brave. He wished the other was next to him now.
—
"What are you doing?" Simon asked his sister as she rummaged through her things.
"Ah! There it is!" Sara turned around with a small applicator and a jar of kohl.
"Sara," Simon warned, arms raised to keep her from putting the greasy powder on his eyes.
"Wilhelm," she enunciated both syllables of the prince's name, "Will go crazy over this. Trust me, Simon!"
The curly haired boy was thankful that his sister didn't hate him anymore after omitting his relationship with the prince, but now he kind of wished she still did. Eventually, Simon relented, if only to save Prince Erik's silk jerkin. The process of applying the kohl was miserable, but as soon as he looked in the mirror, he understood.
"Whoa."
"I know, right!" Sara put down the jar and applicator. "I think you're going to have more than just the prince ogling over you now," she said smugly as she stood behind him and looked at him in the mirror over his shoulder.
" Mis corazónes !" Linda strode into Sara's room to find her two children. "Oh! Wow, Simón, you look amazing!"
Simon blushed deeply at his mother's praise. He would not have been surprised if it went all the way to his chest.
Linda and Micke had been only partially shocked when Simon told them what would be happening at the ball later that night. He had made sure to find them after setting out his outfit with Erik. The surprise faded quickly though and both parents started to worry about what the queen would do.
"We stand by you, Simon, of course we do. I just hope this doesn't result in bad politics," Linda mused.
Micke draped an arm over Simon's shoulders. "You just had to fall for a prince, didn't you?"
"Papa," Simon whined, but let his father pull him into a real hug.
"Micke," Linda chided her husband even though they all knew he was joking around. She turned back to Simon. "Are you sure about this, mi amor ?"
"More than sure, mamá. I love him and I know you're probably going to say that I'm too young to know what love is and that I've barely known Wille, but when we first met four years ago, there was a connection then too."
"That's why you were sad to go home," Linda stated matter-of-factly.
"Mmh," Simon nodded.
"Well, let's go get your prince," Micke smiled at his family.
—
The Eriksson's had been relegated to a back corner of the grand hall. It was obvious that the queen had no intention of her son picking Sara, but little did she know that their son was the chosen one. Linda felt a little smug about it, even though she knew she should worry about the repercussions of basically going against the crown. But her son's happiness was more important. She wished Queen Kristina felt the same of her own son.
They listened to the queen's welcome speech. Simon scoffed when she mentioned Wilhelm picking a wife. He could see Wille at the front table take a deep breath. Simon just wanted to go be with Wille, hold his hand, let him know he'll be okay. Let Wille know that he was there. When Wilhelm had arrived, he had looked around the room, barely paying attention to being polite to his guests. Disappointment had flashed across his face for a moment before slipping his prince mask back on and heading to the front of the room.
The feast lasted a good long while. Wine and ale were flowing. Food was delicious and plentiful, but Simon's eyes kept finding their way back to the high table, to the boy with the quaffed hair and the jerkin that matches his own.
Finally after most of the room was generously lubricated, the queen leaned towards Wilhelm. Simon wanted to know what she had to say as Wille's face slowly drained of color.
"Calm down, Simón," Linda whispered as she placed a gentle hand atop his. Simon hadn't noticed his knuckles had gone white around his fork.
"Sorry, mamá. She just treats him so poorly."
"I know, sweetheart," Linda ran a hand over his curls.
Simon watched as couples and many of the invited ladies got up and started a dance as the band started playing. It was a common dance among the upper class that Simon had learned, but didn't care for. He watched as Wilhelm stepped down from the dais and started wading through the crowd. A princely smile plastered on his face as several ladies nodded and winked at him as he passed.
Multiple girls jerked their head in Simon's direction like they were guiding him. Finally after a ridiculous amount of minutes, Wilhelm laid eyes on Simon. Shoulders relaxed a bit as he politely pushed his way through the crowd.
"Simon," Wilhelm sighed as soon as he was in hearing range, which was pretty close considering the noise level of the hall. Simon loved when Wille said his name like it was a prayer.
Simon beamed at his prince who held a hand out to him, he took it. Always. Wilhelm beamed back. The only thing that made sense in his life was finally within reach again.
"I've never seen you with your crown." Simon bit his bottom lip as he openly checked out the prince. "I like it," he smirked. The prince dipped his head as a little dusting of pink crept over his cheeks.
"You look incredible," the young prince leaned in and whispered into Simon's ear. "Absolutely stunning." He pulled back then and raked his eyes up and down Simon's body, lingering on his eyes because he had no idea kohl could look so devastating on a man. Simon felt his cheeks heat under Wilhelm's intense gaze.
Linda cleared her throat.
"Oh, uh, mamá, papa, you remember Wille?" He glanced at Wilhelm to see if that was a good way to introduce him. It seemed it was because the prince continued to smile genuinely at them. "And Sara."
"Lady Linda. Sir Micke. Lady Sara. I'm so thankful you all were able to join us," Wilhelm charmed, eyes ending on Simon. He couldn't stop staring. Lavender was definitely Simon's color. Though the more he looked at the lavender jerkin the more familiar it became, "Is that Erik's?" The bout of laughter that found its way out of the prince was so joyful, Simon joined in, as did the rest of the family. "It's a lovely color on you." Wilhelm's hand found its way to Simon's shoulder and slid down his arm, clasping his hand. "Dance with me?"
Simon pressed his lips together in a futile attempt to keep his face from bursting open with joy. He nodded and then was promptly led to the dance floor. They waited along the edge for the next dance to start.
"Are you okay with this? Being center stage in front of everyone with- with me?" Wilhelm asked, all confidence suddenly plummeted with dozens of eyes on them.
"Oh, Wille. Yes, it's you and me," he said with a squeeze of his hand and what he hoped was a comforting smile.
"Okay. Good. Good. Fuck, I want to kiss you," he mumbled.
"Soon, mi amor ," Simon nudged their shoulders together with a soft smile on his face.
Some dancers switched partners as a new tune started taking shape. Wilhelm and Simon took their spot at the end of the line, hands and forearms pressed together, opposite arms tucked behind their backs, eyes locked.
Whispers filtered through the hall though they were mostly drowned out by the number of ladies that were surrounding the boys in a protective shield. Wilhelm couldn't help but feel nervous. He wanted to keep his eyes on Simon and for most of the dance he did, but he could feel his mother's eyes boring into his head.
"We're okay, Wille," Simon encouraged. The dance ended with their palms touching. "I'm not going anywhere. I love you, baby."
"Ba- baby?" Wille whisper-shrieked. "You're a fucking menace." Simon only smirked as they started the next dance. " Mitt hjärta ," Wilhelm whispered as their faces got close to each other. Thankfully, it had the desired effect of making Simon's cheeks darken.
The curly haired boy and the young prince spent most of the rest of the night dancing and being more or less protected by a gaggle of ladies who came and went in shifts. Multiple times, Wilhelm saw his mother be intercepted by Felice or Madison, even the Eriksson's joined evasion duty. Erik did his fair share of steering her away as well. Several other people understood what was happening and also demanded the queen's attention. It felt validating for Wilhelm. People cared about him and wanted him to be happy. Maybe they could see how wonderful this boy made him feel. He hoped they could. This boy was everything. It didn't matter that the two of them had only known each other for such a short time, or that they were both boys. Simon felt like Wilhelm's destiny. Like they were fated to be together.
They danced and they danced. The longer they danced, the more Wilhelm became Wille and less Prince Wilhelm. Smiles and laughter came easier and easier as the night progressed. Dances were less poised and more full of giddy laughter that upset some of the older guests, who then threw caution to the wind and eventually loosened up and became more goofy themselves.
Eventually, the band loosened up as well. They started playing less structured music, more of what one would hear in a pub and the dancers broke off into smaller groups to make up their own dances.
Felice, Madison, Sara and a few other ladies surrounded Wilhelm and Simon, joined hands and moved their bodies to the music. Wilhelm felt so free. Felt like he would float away if it weren't for Simon's hands grounding him. Even the crown upon his head didn't feel so heavy.
Simon .
Simon's smile was radiant. It was wide and joyous and lit up the room like sunshine.
Wilhelm framed Simon's face with his hands, fingers dipping into his curls, and brought their lips together. He just could not resist anymore. Everything and everyone else dropped away. Only Simon and Wilhelm were left, just them. Simon's lips were soft and warm and curved up with his own happiness. The young prince wrapped his arms around the boy he loved, picked him up and spun him around. Simon squealed with laughter in his ear, but Wilhelm didn't care. His boy was in his arms, laughing and carefree.
"Gods, Simon I love you," Wilhelm exclaimed into his boy's neck. He couldn't not say it. The words just bubbled up and out of his mouth.
Simon laughed warmly, "I love you too, Wille! So much." He crashed his lips into Wilhelm's again. Hands on necks deepened the kiss.
The girls laughed and cheered for them. But it only lasted for a few moments before the entirety of the grand hall hushed.
Wilhelm held Simon in his arms as he looked over the boy's shoulder. The crowd parted like water around a rock. Queen Kristina glowered at them. The young prince moved to put Simon behind him; he would protect the other at all costs. With squared shoulders and a straight spine, Wilhelm lifted his chin, "Mother."
Queen Kristina stopped just a meter away from her youngest child, hands clasped in front of her. Erik had stumbled after her, trying to do something, anything to keep her from potentially ruining Wilhelm's whole world. He stood just behind her, ready to intervene at any moment.
"Is this really the choice you want to make?" Cold dark eyes shot daggers at Simon making him hide a little more behind the prince.
Wilhelm returned her cold hard stare, "Yes." Simon gripped Wille's hand, Wilhelm held it tightly. "I'm not ashamed to love him. Simon is a wonderful person. He's kind, smart, creative, strong and I want to be with him."
"And what of all these lovely ladies that you invited, hm?"
"You invited them. And while I greatly enjoyed their company, have even made friends with several of them, I do not wish to marry any of them. I don't want a wife, mother." Wilhelm takes a step towards the queen, hand still twined with Simon's. "Please, mamma."
She mulls over her thoughts, the muscle in her jaw twitching. "I have never seen you as happy as you have been tonight. He makes you happy, then?”
Wilhelm's whole body sighs with relief. "He does make me happy. So happy," he added as he turned to Simon, a soft smile, the one reserved for only Simon tugging at his mouth.
—
Simon awoke to sunlight through the gap in the curtains. The sheet sat low on his waist. His cheek rested on the soft planes on Wilhelm's naked chest; the rest of their limbs otherwise tangled.
He still couldn't believe he was officially being courted by the prince, even after a month. Not that he ever really thought of Wille as a prince. To Simon, Wille was just Wille. An adorable, clumsy boy with a golden laugh and amazing hugs.
Shifting just enough to be able to look up at his boyfriend, careful not to wake him, Simon let his eyes rove over his face. He loved watching Wille sleep. The prince always looked younger, sweeter. His face slack, all of the worry and stress lines of the day disappeared. Simon enjoyed when he was able to just admire his lover, when he could memorize the freckles and the scars, how his eyelashes fluttered ever so slightly as he slept. Wilhelm was beautiful and on mornings like these, Simon felt special and incredibly lucky to be the one to see Wille as he was, all vulnerable and himself.
Simon slowly brushed Wille's hair off his face and tucked his fingers into the soft strands. Wille sucked in a breath through his nose as he stirred. A bit of excitement thrummed in Simon's veins at the thought of being able to see Wille's honey brown eyes again. The prince's eyes lazily blinked open and the smile only reserved for Simon graced his face, "Hey." His voice was full of sleep, another thing Simon loved.
"Hey, baby," Simon whispered back. Wilhelm groaned because he knew that Simon knew that that word did things to him. With a chuckle, Simon brought their lips together, it was soft and gentle; a perfect good morning kiss. Though it quickly turned heated. Wille expertly flipped them, finding his rightful place between Simon's legs. With a hand pressing the flame azalea pendant into Simon's chest, Wille slowly took his boyfriend apart, one kiss at a time.
Wilhelm knew he wasn’t a normal boy. His mother accepted it, but had yet to embrace it. He was happy he wasn’t a normal boy. If he was, he wouldn’t be here with this beautiful, kind, caring boy. The boy who let the sun shine into his life, the boy who made everything worth it.