There's a headache when Arne tries to open his eyes, a pounding visceral headache, and a pounding heartbeat in his eardrums, as if everything was vibrating at once.
His throat thumps, heart pushing out of his mouth when he remembers those yellow brown eyes, that languid orange haze that he enjoyed so much, then his deadly quiet dark house, the fork gripping tightly in his hands, him trying to hurt that stranger standing in his house, the police's sirens, the thunder, his mom, his mom, his mom, his mom.
He wakes up gasping, breathing difficult in his throat, and looks around the decorated place, everything was gold and patterned and silk and embellished, he blinked and found that he was in a bed, in bed swamped with silks, and the Nike shorts he had been wearing earlier along with the grey cotton t-shirt was replaced with a gauzy black pant and white laced shirt, his feet were bare feet and someone was kneading it.
He makes a choking sound and pushes his feet back under the covers, "Who are you?" he [ro1] asks to the brown haired boy who looks up at Arne with wide brown eyes.
"Pardon, my prince, did I do something wrong?"
My what? "What! I am not your prince you must be taking me of someone else." Arne says hastily, desperately wanting to go home, and look for his mom, there was something wrong, that man with yellow eyes, his mom. "Where am I?" he asks.
"Prince," The boy gasps looking at Arne as if he had lost his head, then escaping his eyes the moment Arne met his eyes, "You are in Deluzar, your home, your Kingdom, I should, I should call Lord Anker and Lady Linnea, they are waiting for you in the chambers since last night."
Before Arne could ask where Deluzar was and why the heck he was calling it a kingdom, the boy was out the ornate bronze doors in a flash. Who were Lady Linnea and Lord Anker, and why they were waiting for him since last night?
Arne looks around the room, bright with torches placed in wall brackets, finds it glittering with ornate patterned tiles, walls inscribed in carvings, a stone bronzed fire place without a fire, and drinking glasses that were carved out of woods and metals, gold and silver, the only thing that looked a little normal was a turquoise velvet draped recliner chair in the left side of the room, but the handles on the recliner chair, Arne noticed, were carved in gold too.
Everything screamed history and ancient, the kind of rooms you talk about in castles of old kings, the history nerd he was, he would have been curious and thrilled if it weren't for, his mom, the last thing Arne remembers before waking up in this weird place with weird people who were calling him prince out of nowhere, were those vicious yellow and brown lupine eyes he hated with the depth of his gut, who said that his mom was in some kind of prison, his palms grips tightly into fists when those ornate bronze door open.
He sees a woman with black coiling hair, eyes the colour of hazelnut walking in with a man that looked slightly older than her with bulky heavy shoulders, black hair and beard turning into slight grey falling to his shoulders, eyes black as vantablack.
The woman gasps, keeping her bronze hand on her shoulder above the green gown of silk that she was wearing, embellished with gemstones and threads, and she runs to the bed Arne is sitting at, and stops in front of him. "My nephew!" she says, tears falling down on her face.
Arne looks at her speculatively eyes wide, only two things were possible right now, one, He was living in a freaking dramatic novel or two, He was dreaming.
He shakes his head and nothing pulls him out the dream or the book.
The woman reaches out with jerking hands to his face and he jerks back, "Stay away from me."
"Arne." The woman says with glassy hazelnut eyes, "You...you are alive we thought, god bless mother....he would have been so proud to see you."
Who would have been proud to see him? "Who are you?" Arne asks removing the ridiculous furry blanket from his legs and getting down from the bed in a flash, in a second he is towering above the woman.
The woman's eyes widens, he sees the little hesitancy in her eyes, "You don't remember... of course you don't, you were so little and Freja," the woman's eyes turns sharp, she wipes her face with the back of her hand, voice headstrong she says in an accusing tone, "Your mother took you away from us."
"My mother what, who is Freja?" He frowns.
The woman looks at him shaking her head, eyes hard, "She didn't even tell you her real name, what did she tell you that we were dead? She deserves to be in dark prison."
Arne's blood turns cold, the mention of dark prison rings bells inside his head, it was the same prison the yellow and brown eyed stranger had told him about before kidnapping him, he was going to kill that man. "Where is he? And where the hell is this dark prison, what have you done to my mom?" Arne asks tightly taking a step forward.
"Who? We can't tell you about the prison without the vote of council, sorry nephew." The woman blinks taking a step backward.
"He is talking about the son of Dev, Linnea." A rough male voice startles Arne out of his thoughts, he sees the man with those vantablack eyes step beside the woman, reaching out and clasping her arm, as if to make her stay in place.
The man bows his head down, Arne doesn't miss the swipe of the man's eyes, the way he was measuring Arne up, he never felt so more grateful for his tall stature and intimidating height than at the moment.
"I am Anker, Arne, your aunt's husband, and your new head of the councillor's and King's advisors, whatever would you want with that boy." Arne sees the man in his tight brown tunic, his legs clad in a leather trouser, his eyes sharp as a cut stone, voice demeaning, and decides he was not going to tell the man anything.
He would have told the whole story to anyone who would listen, just to make himself less crazy and more substantial, but something kept him from telling the man and the woman the telltales of Arne's confusions, doubts and fears, his mom had said to him once, 'People take your fears and weave them into your worst nightmares, do not ever give them the charge of your fears Arne.'
He says instead standing straight, looking down, "I have some business to attend with that boy."
There was surprise in those woman's eyes, a flicker of surprise, before it turned to soft uncertainty of hazel.
"We have sent him back to where he deserves to be, Arne, you should not worry about that boy, instead we should prepare for your welcome, the kingdom has got its Prince back after eighteen years." The man says.
Prince again, he opens his mouth to tell these fraud people that he was no prince, and they all were probably mad, doing some reality TV shit to him.
The woman says, "You must have a lot of questions, we will answer them all, the council and the court are quite eagerly waiting for you."
"My mom-" he says.
"Your mother," The woman says again, eyes pointed, "is in the hands of the council, you persuade them, you persuade everyone, Anker will help you, won't you Anker?" she says, hazelnut eyes turning fondly towards the man.
"I will." The man nods, grey stripes shining in the black hair.
"We will send in some servants who will help you bath and change, they will take you to the meeting chambers." The woman says and steps forward, her hands reach out then stop midway, turning into fists, "we missed you nephew, your cousins would be delighted to finally meet you."
Then, the woman and the man turn and walk out exactly at the same time.