Alastair
Laughing, I smack Morgan’s arm. He curses as he slams into the counter. That was barely a tap. He really must put more meat on those bones! I suppose that will be our first task in getting him a boyfriend. He’s so small there’s nothing to cuddle with!
“I see you’re working on your sense of humor. While not in the least bit amusing, it is at least a start,” I say between chuckles. Morgan doesn’t join in my jolly, dulling my laughter until it fades.
“You speak earnestly?” I inquire, appalled at the thought of being locked away like a common criminal. I am like a wild steed in need of adventure, running through the breeze as the wind whips through my majestic hair!
“It’s for your own safety,” he explains while avoiding eye contact and tugging anxiously at the end of his abused shirt. There are at least three holes already ripped around the seam.
“My safety?” I ask, leaning against the counter. “What am I to be afraid of here or anywhere for that matter?”
“This world is much different than yours. You definitely can’t go anywhere without me.”
“Now that earns you a few points for being truthfully humorous!” I laugh, slapping the counter in mirth. Once again, Morgan doesn’t join me. He blushes when I continue, “How am I safe going out with you? You’d be little more than a toothpick for a troll!”
I poke at his thin side. Morgan yelps, curling his arms around himself in an attempt to defend. But he couldn’t defend against a measly mouse, let alone me.
Backing away, he sputters, “Like I said, this world is different! We don’t have trolls, for starters. Or minotaurs, selkies, goblins and magic. That isn’t what you need to worry about.”
“If not monsters and dark magic, then what is there to fear?” I ask, growing curious. If our worlds are already so different within these few walls, what is out there? “I must admit, insisting I stay indoors makes me really want to explore,” I add.
“Alastair,” he whimpers.
“What beasts outside would dare to battle me? I’m the greatest fighter to ever live, in any world!”
Morgan throws his shaking head in his hands, voice muffled by his palms, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
The promise of battles against new enemies is too sweet to resist. I remove Artheno from its sheath. Morgan pales, stumbling away while holding out his hands. It reminds me of what a foolish drunkard did at the tavern after he made the horrendous mistake of touching Marlina’s butt. To this day, I am not sure what she did to him, and to this day I do not think I want to know.
“Wh-what are you doing with that?” Morgan squeaks.
“I am going to meet the enemies you are wrongly claiming to keep me safe from. They are the ones in need of being kept safe from me. I do appreciate the thoughtful gesture, but as my creator, you should know better than any that I don’t need it. Now, where is the exit?” I request, heading for a door I haven’t been through.
“Wait!” Morgan slides across the floor to stand in the hall, arms outstretched to press against either wall. He blocks me from what must be the exit, wide-eyed and breathing heavily. “There are no monsters out there to slay!”
“Then why must you lock me up like a guarded princess? I’ve saved plenty of them and, believe me, none appreciated the so-called sentiment. It’s why I threw a few vile fathers into the dungeons or at a very hungry dragon.”
“B-because there is a lot out there, like the items you’ve seen here, that might be confusing for you!” he explains frantically. “We need to take things slow. I’ll explain more about this world so you’ll understand, and then we can make plans to go out…eventually, okay?”
He juts out a quivering bottom lip, eyes blinking rapidly in silent appeal. That look alone should have landed him a lover by now, it’s rather irresistible…for those that are interested in pale, gangly, aesthetically undead men.
Sighing, I sheathe Artheno. “So be it. I will not leave.” Morgan relaxes when I agree. “But you will let me explore the outside world post-haste. I refuse to be treated like a pet.”
Morgan waves his hands wildly. “Of course, no worries! Now why don’t we call it a night? I’m tired, and we’ve both been through a lot.”
“Indeed we have.” A yawn escapes me like the mention of sleep summoned it.
Morgan smiles softly. That’d win him a lover too.
“Let me get some pillows and blankets,” he says while maneuvering around me towards the door he tried to escape into earlier. Prior to entering, he pivots on his heel, possibly to double check I’m not trying to escape. When he realizes I’m right behind him, he blushes.
“Why are you so close?” he asks, stepping further into what must be a bedroom. He touches something on the wall, making a white light appear on the ceiling. The lighting in this world is fascinating and so easily accessible. This slightly makes up for the lack of servants. I’ve never been very trustworthy with oil lamps or candles. Caught one too many drapes on fire… and myself, but we need not discuss such mishaps.
“This guest suite is small, but it will do,” I declare, admiring the bed that is at least as large as my own back home. The blankets are rather bizarre though. There’s some type of drawing on them that I can’t place.
“Uh, this is my room, actually,” Morgan explains, walking to a closet where he retrieves a pillow and blanket.
“Where is the guest suite?”
“I don’t have one.” He offers the pillow and blanket. I do not take them.
Crossing my arms, I snarl, “Then where am I sleeping?”
Biting his lip, Morgan mumbles, “The couch?”
“The couch?” I repeat and wait for the punchline that never comes.
A prince sleeping on a couch? THE AUDACITY!
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