To Rule With An Iron Fist
Adrien sat idly in the cold room, surreptitiously glancing at his father; the old king ignored one of his citizens' supplication. When the young man faltered in his simple request, King Gabriel's icy eyes narrowed, as if he had been offended by the stutter. Adrien watched the man stiffen, in fear most likely of the wrath of the cruel king. His heart went out to him, it truly did. If Adrien had a single ounce of power to stop his own father from reigning so barbariously, he would have done so.
The young man then turned his attention to the blond prince that was seated in the chair next to King Gabriel. Dark brown eyes locked onto Adrien's startling green ones, the peasant seeming to send a nonverbal plea to the young prince, a cry for help. When Adrien tried to offer help, his father immediately silenced him, calling for a nearby guard.
"I am done with him."
Adrien stared while the poor man was pulled away by one of the many guards that stood off to the side of the courtroom. When the massive wooden doors slammed shut, Adrien stood up from the cold metal throne. His father didn't bother to say a word to him as the young flaxen-haired prince began to walk away.
Adrien could hear the sound of the heavy doors opening, no doubt the guards letting in another peasant to give his or her supplication. He walked down the long corridor, his footsteps creating echoes in the desolate hall. Outside one of the many windows littered across the walls, Adrien could see the earlier peasant now exiting the palace grounds. The once pleading young man now wore a scowl as he turned to glare at the castle. Pure hatred clouded his features. Hatred for the king and the king's son.
That look was a familiar one to Adrien. It was a well-known fact that most of the kingdom despised King Gabriel, and by proxy, they despised Prince Adrien as well. His father took this hatred in stride, using the negative emotions to his advantage. Adrien was disgusted to no end with how his father treated their citizens.
His father had always been a cruel man, but after Adrien's mother died, King Gabriel had grown even more wicked. With no benevolent queen to rule beside him, King Gabriel ruled over his people with fear. Adrien's father was a greedy man, wanting more land than he could get. He focused revenue on the army he led, fighting endless wars, expenses adding up. Citizens didn't have enough to eat, living on the bare minimum and gave up their sons and fathers to fight in a pointless war.
Adrien understood why they hated his father. He understood why they hated him as well. With Adrien, they saw someone who could be just as cruel as King Gabriel, someone who could be possibly worse when he takes the throne. Though Adrien cared for his people, that did not mean he was a good person. Even though he wasn't vicious like his father, he was no better. He was just a bystander as he let his father reign in terror. He was trying, though. He knew that when he took the throne, he would try be a better king than his father. He would listen to his citizens when they came to him with their appeals, and he would do his absolute best to help them. At least, that's what Adrien told himself. But it's hard to rule a kingdom when the citizens don't trust you. That was a topic that had been brought up once or twice during his lessons with his father.
"If they don't trust you, they will come to believe you are weak. So you prove to them that you are someone to be revered and dreaded."
That was what his father had told him. That was how his father ruled. King Gabriel ruled his kingdom, and the people within, with an iron fist. And it seemed like his grip was not going to let up anytime soon.
Adrien continued down the passageway, heading towards the kitchen to snag himself an apple. The kitchen staff paid him no mind, busying themselves the moment they saw the young prince enter.
"Good morning."
Adrien received monotone responses out of modesty. The staff continued to do their work, ignoring the prince as he sighed. He snatched an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter before wordlessly exiting the kitchen.
Adrien really needed a break away from the palace, and from his father. To appear at the market would be too risky for him, being the busiest place in the kingdom. The only good thing that could come from that is seeing how his citizens were holding up. Adrien had a feeling that they would not be too happy to see him there.
Seems like a walk around the palace perimeter it is, then.
Adrien didn't bother to take anything to hide his identity, heading straight towards one of the many exits in the castle. No guard tried to stop him as he left the palace, just opening the large, heavy doors for him.
Adrien escaped through the iron gate of the palace, finally able to take a breath. Off to his left, Adrien could see the line of people waiting to go see his father, so he opted to go to the right for more solitude. While walking next to the brick walls that protected the castle within, Adrien let his thoughts wander. Who was his father fighting now? How many people are being forced to be a part of the draft?
His thoughts grew more depressing as he continued down the path. He couldn't even fathom the amount of fatalities that this new war would bring. And his father would just be sitting on that cold throne of his the entire time. It was truly disgusting.
His speculation was quickly interrupted by a sickly cough.
Ahead of him, Adrien saw an older man, maybe in his late fifties, hobbling along the dusty pathway. The old man had no coat to wear for the chilly weather, his feet bare and dirty, cracks formed along his heels from the lack of protection. When Adrien got closer to him, the prince could see that the old man was as thin as a twig, hardly any meat on his brittle bones. His scraggly gray hair was long and wild, hanging over his sunken hazel eyes. The man appeared to Adrien almost like a skeleton.
Suddenly, the elder man stumbled over his feet, crashing to the ground with a light thud. Seeing this, Adrien hurried over. He helped the older man back up, his hand easily circled the man's forearm. Adrien couldn't help but think about how lightweight the man was as he lifted him back to his feet.
"Are you alright?" Adrien asked, concern laced through his voice. A simple fall such as that seemed as though it could really hurt the fragile man.
"Yes, I am fine son-" The man's muscles, what little that he had, stiffened when he caught sight of the person holding him up. Quickly, the man's arm jerked away from the young prince's grip, nearly making himself fall over once more. He hacked out another fit of coughs, Adrien's arms held in front of him as if he were prepared to catch the man again. The old man took a few steps back away from the prince, disheartening Adrien.
"Go away, I am fine. Please, your majesty." The man managed to wheeze out, practically spitting out the last part.
Once again, Adrien understood why the peasants hated him and his father. Even still, the knowledge that he himself was nothing like his barbarous father made the pain of this man's hatred sting. Adrien bowed his head, looking over at the foliage that clumped together off the side of the pathway the two men stood on. The older man's coughing calmed down after a few seconds.
"How are you capable of living with yourself?" The man questioned, his voice rough and scratchy. He sounded incredulous and angry, angry at Adrien. For what? Adrien was not sure, but he had the feeling that the man was going to let him know. Adrien's theory was proven correct as the old man continued. "You and your father took everything from me. You took my sons from me!"
Adrien's brows furrowed in confusion before the answer dawned on him. This stranger's sons were picked from the draft to fight in the war his father started. The pointless war that was going to sacrifice hundreds, if not thousands of their kingdom's people. Adrien's shoulders sagged in realization, taking the man's verbal assault without a word. The man told him everything that he already knew: that the people were poor and starving, that innocent lives were being taken, that his father was such an abhorrent man.
And again, Adrien understood. Understanding the feelings of his citizens seemed to be the only thing that Adrien was capable of. Maybe he wasn't cruel like his father was; maybe he did care about the people of his kingdom, but he could not be that much better than his father if he just stood by while his people suffered. Not speaking up or acting upon his feelings was just as wrong. It was about time that Adrien changed that part of himself.
Adrien lifted his head. When he made eye contact with the man, he conveyed all the emotions he was feeling. Not only for the man before him and his sons, but for every person who was suffering under the rule of his father.
"I know. And I truly feel grief for the loss of your sons."
The man grew silent. He stared at the young prince in confusion, mixed with slight hesitation. Adrien gave the man a sorrowful smile as he placed his slender and soft hand in the older man's rough, calloused one. He withdrew his arm, leaving behind a round, red apple for the older man. "I know that it is not much, but hopefully it may help you for now."
When the man did not respond, Adrien turned around to walk back to the palace. He had had enough of the fresh air for the day. As he did so, Adrien couldn't help but think that the only thing that was refreshing about his walk, was being able to listen to one of his citizens' complaints.
A frail hand wrapped around Adrien's wrist. The young prince stopped walking, turning his head over to the old man that had grabbed him. The man wouldn't look Adrien in the eye as he spoke, his voice quiet and scratchy.
"There's a revolt coming," The old man said. His grip on the prince didn't let up as he continued. "There is a revolt coming. It may be best for you to flee now, while you still can."
Adrien smiled kindly at the man. He knew that the elder was risking a lot by telling him this. But to flee? That was not an answer. That would never been an answer for Adrien. He would not- He could not- leave his citizens under his father's rule.
"How can I flee if my people are suffering?"
The man's mouth opened in surprise at the prince's words.
When Adrien walked away, the man watched in disappointment. He had hoped that what he said would have saved the young and surprisingly kind prince.
Finally, there was one thing that Adrien did not understand, and unfortunately, would never understand. Adrien never understood why his words would have affected the older man, such as they had. To Adrien, he was just the lowly prince, as he had heard his citizens say. He could not see how his words could mean anything to a man who was supposed to despise him and hold him in disdain. Adrien would never understand that he was more than just a single story; he was more than just the cruel King Gabriel's son.
Adrien would never understand, because two months later the revolt did happen. Just as the old man had warned Adrien. Two months later, Adrien was publicly executed for his father's crime. Two months later, the old man who had been given an apple from Adrien, watched tearfully as the young man took his last breath.
It was a pity, the old man thought. The young prince never learned that he was more than what the people thought of him. But maybe, it was even more piteous that the people were never capable of seeing the young prince- Adrien- for being more than his father's son.
Just so everyone knows, this is a plot in my new story, Our Undying Love, which is based on the one shot of the same name. The next part is a sequel to this one shot.
Until next time, peace!
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