i heard it through the g r a p e vine ! + merrick

[Mimi]

Christian kept his head down, attempting his best to look inconspicuous and failing spectacularly. Nothing wrong with a grown man creeping behind bushes, was there? ...Hm, perhaps it would have been wiser to consult with Rian first, but his brother's preoccupation put Christian ill at ease disturbing him. He could handle something like this on his own, couldn't he? After all, these were just rumors. Some trifling thing he picked up while carrying a pitcher of water to his brother's room.

"Did y'hear? They say the Helion Prince's brother came earlier yesterday."

"No! Prince Merrick? They say his looks far surpass his brother's."

"Oh, stop! What if someone were to hear you?"

"It's true! Now..."

By that point, they'd walked out of earshot, and the rest of their conversation had descended into talk of marriage and men. At first, Christian was excited, nearly tripping into the wall and spilling quite a bit of his water. Prince Merrick! Imagine! He hadn't seen the boy - well, man now - since they were children, and Merrick, well, Merrick had always been a bit like himself he supposed. Eyes had always been on Rian as they had been on Berlus; Merrick and Christian tagged along in the background, and although Christian had always embraced his position as the "second son", making his best of it, it seemed Merrick had always felt... slighted, at least from Christian's experiences. Still, twelve years! Would he recognize him still, he wondered? Had he changed any? He hoped not. Many things had, and it only made him feel out-of-place, almost left behind.

Christian shook free of his thoughts as his foot struck upon a stone stuck in the ground, and a shock of pain almost sent him sprawling onto the grass. He suppressed a loud hiss and quickly staggered on as he heard a noblewomen comment on a "strange sound". Ah, this felt awfully... wrong. Why couldn't he overhear things in the gardens when he wanted to, but when he didn't he kept stumbling over... affairs... 'n such. He sighed under his breath; Rian had always berated him for his clumsiness and complete inability to spy.

The dog bite on his shin still stung something terribly and sent numbing shocks of pain up his leg in intervals. Each step now hurt ten times worse what with his bruised toe, and Christian began doubting he'd ever find any further substantial information on the Prince. He'd heard, from the same two female servants coincidentally, that the Prince had been seen going to the gardens following lunch, but Christian had been looking around for half an hour and still, nothing! One would think there'd be more commotion over Merrick's arrival.

Bits of peoples' conversations floated out over the bushes.

"...think the economy will take a turn for the..."

Christian pressed a bit further into the greenery.

"-- looks like the world is going to the dogs..."

Well... at least if he were discovered, no one would think much of a Silian servant...?

"...won't allow me to see my children."

Unless, they thought he'd been purposefully sent to spy...

"--think he will love me?"

Oh dear! What if they did think he'd been purposefully sent to spy? His breathing quickened as he began panicking, panting quietly like a dog in the heat. Which way was this? Was he getting further towards the castle or farther? Or was this the path towards the gazebo? Or -- what was that?

Christian froze; his mind blanked except for one thought: was this how Adalia had felt the other night when they'd come upon her? A faint blush dusted his cheeks at the thought which quickly became the red of embarrassment. He tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his coarse cotton tunic; why so unbearably hot all of a sudden? Someone was coming, and he'd never be able to steal away in time. How did he look, he wondered, hunched over, tip-toeing past a bush of hydrangeas? Well, at the very least, no one would be able to recognize him except, perhaps, Prince Merrick, and this couldn't possibly be the Prince.

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[andrew]

Crack, crack, crack, crack.

Crack, crack, crack, crack.

Jet-black boots pounded against the cold marble floor. His face was expressionless, as per usual. As he walked, his waist-length crimson cape fluttered behind him. He was dressed in a smattering of complimentary colors: black, red, gold, white -- the colors of Helios, of course. To be completely honest, Merrick looked like a goddamn model walking through the Reginien Palace. And he knew he did, people were sure talking about him enough.

"Who is-!?"

"WOW! The rumors are true!"

"Holy hell!"

He couldn't help but inwardly grin. It wasn't like Merrick thrived on attention, or really needed it, but it was always nice for him to know that he looked better than everyone else in the room. He always made a point to do that, at least.

And just out of the middle of nowhere, another handler fell on him. She must have emerged from one of the many doors that lined the hallway that he was walking down . . . to be honest, he wasn't paying that much attention. But nevertheless, there she was running after him, having trouble keeping up.

"Your Royal Highness! Pleeeease follow me!"

It was no use. Merrick wasn't going to be wrangled into some drawing room where he would be destined to dwell for the entirety of his visit. He knew well how these things worked. He was a prince afterall.

"It's really quite alright, miss. I can take care of myself. I needn't you to burden yourself with me."

"Oh! But really, Your Highness, it's no trouble at all!"

She was a fiesty one. Very few people ever answered back after Merrick dismissed them, whether it was his annoyed tone or deathly glare he didn't know. Whatever it was, it wasn't having an effect on this women. At this point, she was essentially jogging next to the prince, and he still refused to even look at her.

"Please, Your Highness, allow me to give you a tour."

"I can find my way. Don't you have some work to do somewhere?"

"This is my work, Your Highness! I am trying to do it."

Damn. She was really a tenacious one. Unfortunately for her, Merrick really wasn't in the mood to deal with her bullshit. He had ridden in a carriage for a VERRRRY long time with no one but Amelia, and god bless her, but she is just not very entertain, especially since she tended to sleep the whole way. He just wanted to walk around at his leisure, like a normal fucking person.

"Look, miss. I am quite alright for time being. I do not need nor want your services right now. Leave me."

And that did it. His silvery tongue was, well, the silver bullet. She stopped right in her tracks, he kept on walking . What he failed to see was the tears in the eyes of the young woman. He might have actually cared if he had known that he made her cry. But at that moment, he was just glad he was free. He had never liked being poked and prodded and told where to go. Nothing irritated him more than just going through the damn motions. To be honest, and he supposed that it was a bit childish, he loved just roaming around the vast palaces of the other royals. It made him feel like a child again . . . when everything was so much simpler. He enjoyed that feeling of being lost in a beautiful palace. Nothing could bother him then.

Coming out of thought, Merrick noticed where the hallway was leading now, to an opening, leading to what seemed to be a garden. This seemed perfect for him. Perfect for him to hide away in, perfect for him to sit and collect his thoughts. He again moved forward, and quickly broke the threshold from the hallway to the garden. Oddly enough, though, in the garden, was a servant-esque looking man, looking exactly the same age as Merrick.

Deciding to have a little fun, Merrick crouched down and slowly moved over to where the other man was. A smile spread across his face as he inched closer and closer to the other. Merrick knew that he was going to get this mystery man good. And with a final snicker, Merrick jumped in front of him, a blur of gold and red, and placed his face right in the face of the Christian

"WHY, HELL-"

Oh god.

Oh god.

Ohhhhh goddd.

Waves of heat overcame Merrick. A deep blush fell over him. And, in fact, Merrick fell on his ass from shock. Standing in front of him was his childhood crush, looking better than ever, Prince Christian of Silus.

Merrick searched for words, and a million emotions flashed over his face, still red. All he managed to summon was a meager:

"H-hey there, Christian."

[Mimi]

OH SHIT.

Why was he always wrong?

Christian yelped aloud and fell flat on his bum as that oh-so-familiar personage did the same, but he bolted upright immediately, almost tripping over himself a second time in his haste.

"Merr-Merrick!" he cried, surprising himself that he recognized the boy so readily. Then again, who else but Merrick would be so regally dressed?

Speaking of being dressed appropriately, Christian suddenly became acutely aware and self-conscious of his own slapdash appearance. Goodness! Exactly what was he wearing? Brown, stiff leggings and a tunic that couldn't have cost more than half a copper penny? His hair must have looked a dirty mop of a mess too; he hadn't slept well either, and the dark bags under his eyes must have been more than apparent. Ah, what an embarrassment he was to his country! He should have just discarded the idea of traveling incognito; it was creating a bigger mess of things than if he'd arrived with sword drawn.

Despite Merrick's greeting, Christian remained as petrified as a stuffed pheasant, feeling very much the fool. He wobbled a bit like a sapling in intemperate weather as he struggled to regain his balance and fixed his eyes on a particularly interesting patch of trampled grass in his surprise, unpreparedness, and utter disconcertion. His fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of his shirt as about a million things flashed across his mind all at once, and overwhelmed, Christian was suddenly struck mute. His mouth opened and closed two or three times to no avail, and Christian frowned, desperate to break the silence. The thing he wanted most was to apologize first -- for the way he was dressed, for the way he had apparently startled Merrick more than Merrick had startled him, for the current, lengthening silence on his part, and for his allowing that silence to lengthen amongst the many other little apologies he'd have to make for who knows how many little etiquette rules he was breaking by being dumb and immobile like so!

Ah, the rudeness of it all; the first meeting in twelve years, and this was how he was greeting the young prince? He gulped (serveral times, in fact), and yet he still couldn't speak, or was it that he couldn't think of what to say? It seemed ages since Merrick's "H-hey there, Christian"; why was he so nervous? Gah!

"Dammit!" Christian muttered angrily against himself, stamping his foot against the soft turf much like a petulant child.

That seemed to fix it. Christian's eyes widened just slightly as he realized his inadvertent curse and began an overdue, bumbling apology.

"I'm sorry, Prince Merrick! That was completely uncalled for; I do not know what came over me, and it was in no way directed at you but rather at my own clumsy self for startling you so. And-and-and please forgive the servants' attire; I hope you do not think I was trying to deceive you in any way. It is somewhat of a long story, but the short of it is that I am not really supposed to be here, yousee? So, I had to leave incognito, and I thought it best to maintain my anonymity here for various reasonsandwhatnot, but clearly I was wrong for if I had but revealed myself, surely I wouldn't have startled you now!"

By the end of it, Christian was panting from the exertion, and he wasn't even sure if the prince had understood a lick of what he said; he'd been speaking so quickly.

He was still forgetting something though, and he kept his head bowed, trying his hardest to remember as he gnawed at the side of his mouth. Then,

"Oh!"

He almost jumped at the realization, his head snapping up and his bright, hazel eyes meeting Merrick's, if he did say so, flustered gaze. He mechanically extended his hand in an awkward gesture of good will followed by a nervous, wilting laugh that spoke of self-deprecation and reprimand.

"How rude of me; let me help you up. It was my fault, anyhow."

He assumed the red of Merrick's cheeks was from the shock as his had been.

"It has been a long time, Prince Merrick."

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[andrew]

It all seemed to happen so quickly. Before Merrick knew it, Christian was on the ground with him, yelling his name in fright. His body was paralyzed, though, and whether it was from seeing the hottie Christian again, falling, the shock, or maybe all three, he didn't know. All he could do was look and watch, and his almost black eyes were glued to Christian. They weren't leaving him for a second.

Within seconds, Merrick was judging Christian. His first thoughts? What the hell was he wearing? Sure, Merrick had an appreciation for the whole shabby chic thing, but this was crazy. Christian literally looked like he was from the slums, not that Merrick had ever really been, but Christian was a perfect example of what Merrick's imagination had concocted. But . . . despite fact that Christian looked like trash . . . he was quite dreamy. Perhaps it was because the last time Merrick saw him he was just a boy? He had not seen Christian come into being a man, like he himself had done.

And then . . .

And then . . .

And then . . .

Nothing. Nothing was happening. Neither of them was saying anything. Merrick just stared at the other Prince, enjoying the view, but not enjoying the awkward silence. There wasn't anything he could do, though. He body was still locked solid from earlier. And as much as he wanted to stand up, hug Christian, and tell him that everything was fine, he couldn't. Not only because he was paralyzed, but his reputation would certainly not allow such things. And then all of the sudden . . .

"DAMMIT!!!"

It shocked Merrick.

He audibly gasped, the only breath he had taken since his fall. And then, Christian began what Merrick liked to think of as word vomit. Merrick could not keep up with what the other prince was saying, he just knew, from his tone, that he was regretful of something. It was all so confusing . . . why would Prince Christian apologize? Merrick was the one that had crept up on him. He inwardly sighed, remembering that that was just Christian's way. He always thought he was culpable for the smallest damn things.

It was then that Christian's hand fell, like stairs to heaven. Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but the thought of holding Christian's hand made Merrick's pulse quicken. But seriously? What the fuck was going on? Why couldn't he gain control over himself. It was frustrating at this point. Merrick loved to be in control, obviously, and at that very moment he was anything but. For the lack of a better analogy, he was putty in Christian's hands, yet Christian didn't even know it.

He knew what he had to do. He had to take control, he had to push past this feeling deep in his stomach that so disarmed him. Slowly he willed his right hand up into that of Christian. Using him as leverage, Merrick shakily stood from his embarrassing position on the ground. He couldn't make eye contact, though. Hell, he couldn't even stand straight! WHY WAS THIS DAMN BOY HAVING SUCH A INFLUENCE OVER HIM? But there was nothing he could do.

He demanded that his body stand at attention, even if just for a moment, just to converse with the prince for a few minutes. He willed it so. And with a final push of courage, he raised his head to look into Christian's eyes, which immediately made a blush come to his face again. He fought it. He hated that he was being a little girl about this whole thing. He hated that he couldn't walk up to this man, who was really not intimidating in the least, and have a fucking conversation. Was that really too much to ask?

He knew he had to say something, for etiquette deemed it so. He took a breath, and prepared himself for speech, knowing that whatever was going to come out of his mouth was going to come out. He might as well have been drunk, because he had about that much control over his body, maybe less.

"Prince Christian, it is truly a pleasure to see you again. You look spectacular, if I might say so."

Well great. Fucking great. Now he sounded like a bitch. Oh well. Oh well. Oh well. Christian would forgive him, or it would go right over his head. And truly, it's not like it mattered; Christian was so hopelessly straight.

((Sorry about this post . . . I feel like it sucks. I just wanted to get something up. Blehhh. I'll make it up to you somehow. :/))

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[Mimi]

There was a moment's pause before Merrick took his hand, and for that split second, Christian had thought he'd said something wrong again, something offending somehow in his little spiel of uncontrollable words just a few seconds ago. He continued fidgeting, his fingers working and playing at his side as he shifted nervously from one foot to the other like a little boy needing to use the chamber pot. When Merrick did grasp his hand, however, Christian visibly relaxed, and his shoulders slouched forward as though some invisible pressure had suddenly been lifted. A bright smile played across his lips, and his head cocked to the side as he released Merrick's hand and took a step back. Close proximities bothered him; he suspected it had something to do with Rian telling him that if he let people stand too close, they were liable to "jump him."

Merrick seemed a bit wobbly on two legs, and Christian was just about to comment on it -- recommend they find a place to sit, perhaps? -- when what Merrrick said next shocked as much as it tickled him.

"Prince Christian, it is truly a pleasure to see you again. You look spectacular, if I might say so."

Christian paused a moment, a puzzled look coming over his face, and he involuntarily glanced over his shoulder as if expecting to see another "Prince Christian" looking "spectacular" because surely, Merrick couldn't be referring to him, could he? His head then turned down, and his eyes focused on his shabby threads and the grass stains dabbled so artistically over his knees and the bottoms of his dark brown breeches.

Merrick was either poking fun at him or still disoriented from the collision. Christian, however, chose to believe that he was simply being courteous, but this -- this was much too much of a stretch. Before he knew it, he was holding the back of his neck with one hand and letting out an unrestrained laugh like he hadn't laughed in a while. Part of it was prompted by pure jitteriness, another because he was relieved, and another because he was simply glad seeing an old friend again.

"It is alright to be truthful, Prince Merrick. I look like shit, and I think we both know it."

He said the latter part perhaps a bit too loudly, another indication of his jitteriness, and one knew more than anything that Christian was less-than-comfortable when he started swearing, yet another habit he'd picked up from Rian when they were children. However, despite it all, a certain familiarity settled over him, and the taut way he spoke, as though he were walking a tight rope, slowly began ebbing away the longer he spent in Merrick's presence and the more he was reminded of their boyhood years. Christian, completely oblivious now to Merrick's flustered state (and for that matter, his own) continued on, excited to learn what Merrick had been doing all these years.

"Merrick, what're you doing here? We haven't seen each other in so long though it only seems yesterday that we played together and such."

Christian offered Merrick another bright smile before going on. "You seem like you are doing quite well, and um,"

There was a hitch in his voice as, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a couple of noblewomen a ways off behind Merrick, whispering together and a bit wide-eyed.

"U-Um," Christian hesitantly murmured, running a hand through his hair with that same self-consciousness as his smile faltered. "Um. Or erm, perhaps I should go. Or-or at the very least, um, change clothing. I would not want to have people thinking that the Prince was associating with a lowly servant, dressed as I am."

A weak laugh dribbled from his lips, a ghost of the previous one, and he took the moment to really taken in the Prince before him and how much he'd changed. In the past few moments, all Christian had seen of Merrick was a blur of fine fabrics, but upon closer examination, he began picking out the small differences that added up to a tremendous change. The boyish, round face he'd known had taken on a much more stately shape; everything about him looked regal, almost intimidating if given the chance. He bet Merrick was the talk of court back home; catching up with the Prince would be the highlight of his day.

(( Aw, not at all, Andrew! I lurved reading Merrick's reactions<333 I hope you find this response enjoyable to read and respond to (: ))

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