firaafics (firaafics) wrote,

Lord Nicholas Cruegar

As part of creative writing this week, groups of three or four got a magazine clipping with a face on it. We got a clip of a rather spoiled looking prince. From there, we had to characterize the character, and then write for three or four scenarios. I haven't gotten started on the fourth, because that one was supposed to have been come up with the help of our group.

Anyway, here are the three I have so far, with the prompts that started them:
Scenario One:

Your character walks into his/her house room and finds a goat in his/her living room there.


The Goat

      Lord Prince Nicholas Cruegar the second, the future king of the empire of Sanctis, walked into the antechamber of his room heaving a heavy sigh. The room was large, as was expected, and furnished only as a royal family could afford. It was actually only used for studying and sleeping, as since it was a room at the private academy his father wished for him to attend. Typically, only three sets of eyes saw the chambers; those being his own, the headmaster’s, and finally, Nathanial serving boy assigned to him because of a distant bloodline.

      The said servant entered the room enthusiastically after his lord, bouncing up and down slightly in his steps. The prince actually did like the blond boy, though, as age normally dictated, he did see some maturity flaws in the younger boy, and yet… he didn’t tire of Nicholas Barbossa as he had every other servant. “Milord, you were amazing today! The way you handled the foil, just w-“


      The baying of a farm animal, a goat, apparently, interrupted the gushing praise from the blond, and the darker haired prince frowned. Stormy eyes that had been growing warm and affectionate at the compliments turned towards the goat of matching color, and grew cold and disdainful, annoyed at the interruption. There were few voices Nicholas didn’t mind listening to, and Nathanial, the unyielding puppy to his careless owner, was one he could sit around and listen to forever.

      Not that the sixteen year old quite knew why, nor could the fifteen year old possibly understand.

      But, as far as the prince was concerned, it was capital punishment to interrupt the serving boy. He continued to glower at the stupid animal, more so when Nathanial rushed over and knelt before the goat, looking at him with fascination in his royal blue eyes. Not that there was anything royal about the commoner blood, Nicholas had told himself repeatedly when having caught himself calling the eyes that very color.

      “Who let the animal in here?” The true royalty huffed, flipping brown hair over his shoulder and crossing his arms.

      “Isn’t he cute, milord?” Barbossa cooed and the pure, unadulterated awe and happiness in the younger boy’s voice actually made the older flush and look away determinedly.

      “No, he certainly isn’t! He’s filthy, and loud!” Even though the creature had barely made a sound thus far.

      “Can we keep him? Oh, he’d make the most wonderful pet, don’t you think milord?” Nathanial asked as if not even hearing the prince’s rather hastily made comment.

      “What?! Of course not!” Nicholas gaped at his friend, his confidant, his… his what? Serving boy?

      “But- but…” Nathanial seemed downhearted, and the older boy sighed, unable to treat the servant coldly.

      “Do you think an animal would really do well in a boarding school?” He finally snapped, glaring at the grey, horned creature. The blond boy was supposed to pay attention to him.

      “Well… I guess not…” He mumbled in reply.

      “See?” Now, go get Sir Isuld. He’ll remove it, and find it a nice place.” He said, now watching Nathaniel with predatory eyes, which most people say was the look most common in the grey eyes. When the servant nodded and started out, Nicholas Cruegar felt relieved and the goat bleated again. He glared and mumbled a short-tempered order for it to shut up.


Dinner was fabulous, even the prince had to admit. However, he knew better, unlike his lovable, clueless friend, than to ask what it was. The blond got the careless answer of ‘goat’. Nicholas spent the rest of the night comforting a distraught – and slightly sickened- Nathanial, that same predatory and possessive look gazing down at blond the entire time.

Scenario Two:

Your character has just learned that a loved one has been in a car accident jousting match and was wounded.


The Prince and the Servant

      Another boring day for the young man that was called Nicholas Cruegar, the exalted crown prince of the empire of Sanctis. Sure, there was more than enough to do, with different papers piled on his desk, and more than one ambassador waiting in the wings to meet with him and get on the royal family’s good side, but the brunette simply didn’t feel up to it. It was all boring, even though it was almost all he had known his short adult life since returning from the academy.

      “Where is that damned Nat?” He asked quietly, throwing his head back against the chair, grey eyes closing. Now he realized why he was so inactive, and why he had no real will to work. The blond wasn’t over his shoulder, and making him grin wolfishly about the work before them. The servant, he realized, hadn’t been around since early that morning, it dawned on him. He sat up straighter when he heard the door to his office squeak open.

      “You’re late, Nathanial.” The quick switch back to Barbossa’s full name suggested that the brunette would have no mercy dealing with the younger man, but it was a good thing he had sat up, even better when he looked behind him to the door, seeing instead his father.

      “Milord King.” Nicholas was quick to get out of his seat and kneel in the presence of the king of the empire.

      “Ah, so you don’t know. Rise, son.” The grave tone to the graying man’s voice made Nicholas look up in surprise before realizing to right himself.

      “Know what, father?” He asked out of curiosity, brows furrowing in concern.

      The ruler sighed, and ran his fingers through his head- a sure sign, as the younger Cruegar recognized, of stress – looking around the dark room. “That servant of yours, the one you’re so attached to-“

      “Nathanial Barbossa, sir.” He gently supplied.

      “Ah, yes, that one. Well, he was involved in a sword fight with one of the knights. He lost but someone intervened before permanent damage could be done. He’s in the infirmary right now, and keeps demanding Lady Rune let him see you.” He was gruff with the news, but his son could see he was trying to soften the news. Nonetheless, as soon as the words finished coming from his mouth, the prince bowed out of respect and rushed past him out of the room.

      The king was left wondering just what was so special about that servant in the eyes of the prince, whom he easily recognized had grown spoiled.

The infirmary smelled as herbs and blood, as always, but Nicholas could care less, hurried steps bringing him face to face with the stern Lady Rune, who glared at him past half-moon spectacles. “Lord Nicholas, I realize you are a prince and do not feel the rules of others to apply to you, but I am forced to ask that you refrain from run-“

“Where is he?” He interrupted, holding up a hand and bending over, panting softly.


“Gods dammit, Rune. Nat. Nathanial. The blond boy.”

Her face softened and she nodded. “Ah. I didn’t expect His Majesty to have told you so quickly. He’s this way, please.” She gestured and he followed, again, to her disapproval, running past her once seeing a familiar blond head propped up on a pillow. Without another word, however, she turned around and left to give the two some quiet.

“What in Hades were you doing fighting a knight, idiot?” He breathed out, bending over the younger boy’s head, running a hand through soft – and yet damp with sweat- blond strands of hair. Royal blue eyes opened wearily and stared up at him, before fully waking up, and suddenly looking angry, through not at his lord.

“They were insulting you, milord. You and your father, saying there’s no way you two can run the empire for much longer. I couldn’t stand by and listen to something like that, milord! I thought I could handle ‘em, you know, with all those fencing lessons we took.” He flushed slightly, seemingly angry. Beside himself, really. “Some of his buddies jumped in, outnumbered me really. I could’ve beaten him, too! Made him regret saying something like that about you and your honorable fath-“

His sentence stopped mid-word as the prince, having regained shock from seeing numerous tended cuts on the servant’s arms and legs, hugged him tightly, still smoothing down the blond hair.


“You idiot. You don’t have to defend my honor, nor my father’s. Understood?” He muttered. “Got it?” He asked after he received no answer.

“Yes, milord.” A shift beside him meant the boy was nodding slightly. He let out a sigh.

“Are you feeling alright…?” He finally asked, realizing he was hugging someone of a lower station, and pulling away. The servant looked down, and nodded again.

“Lady Rune is the only reason I’m still in here. Otherwise I would’ve shown up as soon as I was bandaged up.” He explained.

“Well, stay here until the old hag gives you permission to leave. I want you completely better, and I don’t want to risk your health, okay?”

A grin split the younger one’s face as he nodded one more time. “Yes, milord.”

“Good.” He knelt slightly, and leaned over the edge of the bed, dragging his fingers across Nathanial’s cheek, in a way that could pass as affectionately. “And next time, just tell me. Alright? Take care, Nat. I’ll go crazy without someone like you.”

Scenario Four:

Your character has recently discovered feelings for another person. How do they realize these feelings, and what do they do about them?


The Admittance

      Fingers, long, delicate and pale, tapped in annoyance and thought upon the oak desk in the darkened office. Nicholas closed his eyes in annoyance and leaned back in his chair.

      His father had dared to accept the hand of another, smaller kingdom’s princess for him, without his consent? He had the audacity to assume that there was no one of specific interest in his own son’s mind? Someone… of specific interest? Like who, he realized. Why was he suddenly so angry, only after having seen the crestfallen look on Nathanial’s face, once he had spread the ‘joyous’ news to his childhood friend and follower?


      No, that wouldn’t do at all, would it? He couldn’t have- but then again, his laidback attitude that only the blond had ever been witness to, the way he could only smile, even that wolf-like smirk of his when the servant was present…

      But it still wouldn’t do. Like his father would honestly accept that as a legitimate reason to call off an engagement of requirement.

      This was frustrating. He wasn’t supposed to care for anyone, even his dear mother – may her soul rest with the gods in peace – had admitted to his callous nature, even when she only knew a child in her arms. He let out a controlled sigh, running the same thin fingers through his hair, trying to sort everything out. There was no way something could work out. His father most certainly wouldn’t let him walk out of such a large obligation, especially when as far as Nicholas the first was concerned, him acting on such a feeling would lead to the death of the Cruegar line.

      The prince stood suddenly, oak chair beneath him being pushed back with such force that it fell back, landing on the floor with a thud. He needed to find Nathanial, needed to sort this out with him first and foremost. If he could handle it, then maybe he could just swallow his own hesitations of the marriage, and go ahead as planned.


As he had expected, the blond boy was out in the garden, looking distractedly out over the lower gardens, perched on one of the containing walls that separated the upper garden with the lower. He looked forlorn, and suddenly, Nicholas felt any will of his disappear, not that he fought horribly hard to keep it. He took a few hesitant steps, and those few, scuffing against the dirt, made the servant look up. “Milord?”

Automatically, Nathanial Barbossa sat up straighter, awaiting an order. After all, why else would his lord and friend hunt him out so unexpectedly? He felt surprise come over him as the brunette took a few more steps to be beside him, leaning over the wall and keeping his eyes cast outward. “Ah, nothing. Relax, Nat. Alright?” The fact that he actually called him Nat without a just reason made the youth tilt his head in confusion.

“Something wrong, milord?”

A humorless laugh escaped Cruegar’s lips, and he looked over, eyes narrowed and seductive, something the servant had never seen directed at him before. Sure, the man had used that look against unwitting maids and the like to get his way, but never at him. “Tell me, Nat, what’re your real feelings about the engagement?”

He had an answer ready for such a question, surprisingly enough. “Whatever milord is happy with is what I am pleased with.” He looked away, unable to keep eyes locked with such a stare.

“Come now, Nat. You must have something to say.” His prince straightened up, and looked at him much more sternly. When he still wouldn’t meet the grey eyes, he felt cold fingers cup his chin, and force him to meet the prince’s eyes head on. He was startled to see Nicholas’ face inches from his own, looking dead serious.

“I… I don’t like it.” He faltered, though admitting it, before casting his blue eyes down the best he could.

“Why?” His prince persisted.

“Why? Er, well, I just…” He started to stammer out, before something blocked his lips. Another set of lips, in fact. He started to pull back out of surprise, only reason he didn’t fall off of the wall was the fact that his best friend caught his arm, pulling away as he assumed the blond wished to.

He actually looked sheepish, ashamed for once. Embarrassed, even. It was a monumental moment, one that shocked him. “I don’t, either, really. I’d be happier with someone else, but they’re being confusing about where they stand about me.” He offered a smile, and took a step back, looking faraway. “What do you suggest I do, Nat?”

Nathanial felt his eyes widen in understanding, and he sprang off the wall, holding out a hand in all seriousness. “Order them. Tell them to follow you to the ends of Gaia. They will.” He didn’t expect the other to actually grasp his hand, but he did, giving the blond a grateful look.

He had been so afraid of being turned away, due to duty or station, and squeezed the more calloused hand. “What do I do, though? My father…” He looked away, feeling typical anger bubbling up once more. “I daren’t dream he would accept anyone but the lady he’s chosen for me.”

This time it was his turn to direct the grey eyes, lost and confused, to his own, having closed the distance between them. “What father? There’s all of Gaia to lead to. Just walk, and I will follow, milord.” He was asking so much, for a prince to cast a crown from him, and to choose love over family and empire. Too much, he realized, and started to release the hand he held, having overstepped his boundaries.

Too bad the prince had tightened his grip. “Nicholas.”


“No more of this ‘milord’ stuff. We’re equals now, Nathanial, got it? Just call me Nicholas.” He was serious, he was actually serious.

The blond nodded, eyes wide, before turning away, a hesitant but warm grin on his lips. “Where to first then, Nicholas?”

Please comment on each of the three seperately, or at least put 'Scenario ??: ' before any comments about a specific piece. I would love any feedback possible, please!
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