The Gifts We Share [A Medieval AU]

Chapter Twenty - Orphan King

Three days later, Mark is burying his mother. Tears drip down his nose and land on the soil as he tosses shovelfuls of dirt into the grave, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the sombre scene. Her small wooden cross rests beside two others, marking the final resting place of three of the four Fischbach's. Mark kneels, covering his face as he sobs.

He's alone; an orphan with no family and a king without a throne. His only friends are a couple of stable-boys and a closed off ruler, and Mark doesn't know whether Seán even regards him as a friend or not.

"Mark, you will never be alone." His mother smiled at him. "I will watch over you."

"Please don't leave," Mark begs through his tears.

"Everything will be okay." The light begins to fade from her eyes as she watches her son. "I love you, forever and always."

He stares at the graves in front of him, his vision blurred by the moisture in his eyes. He knows he should get back to his house, pack, and leave again, but it feels impossible. How does he move on from this?

Mark pulls himself to his feet, taking one last look at his family before turning on his heel and heading back towards the house. The village flickers with the last light of evening, lanterns and fireplaces causing the insides of houses to glow a comforting, pleasant orange. Mark looks to his own cottage, which is dark and cold inside, and sighs heavily.

He pushes open the front door and quickly starts a fire in the hearth before falling into bed. He shuts his eyes and tries to sleep, but he's become so accustomed to hearing the sound of his mother's breathing that the lack of it is terrifying. Reality seems to finally settle in as Mark attempts to sleep and relieve himself of his grief. His mother is gone, and she's not coming back. The realization makes him completely and utterly numb. Maybe, when he wakes up, it'll all have been a bad dream.

Mark barely sleeps. By the time the sun is rising over the horizon, the farmer is out of bed and packing up everything that matters to him or reminds him of his family. He doesn't plan on returning to this place, where the ghosts of his parents and Thomas seem to linger. He's going to stay at Seán's castle until he can go back to his own kingdom.

The moment he has everything packed away in his leather satchel, he shuts the door of his cottage and heads towards the barn in the back. The door creaks open, allowing sunlight to stream through the opening and onto the face of Belle, the old farm-horse. She had been his mother's Clydesdale, although Mark had cared for her when his mom couldn't. He strokes her nose and unlocks the gate, allowing Belle to step out of her stall.

"Hey girl, want to go live in a castle?" he asks, stroking her glossy brown coat. She watches him with big brown eyes and he sighs. His mother loved this horse.

With one smooth motion, he jumps onto Belle's back and rides her out of the barn. She trots through the yard and down the street, where villagers start heading to work and collecting water from the wells. Mark pays them little attention, his mind focused on getting to the castle. He finds that if he focuses on one thing, it makes the grief feel a bit more distant.

"Halt!" one of the guards calls as Mark approaches the gates. The guard steps forward, watching the farmer for a moment before realizing who he's talking to. "Ah, Mr. Fischbach! You have returned."

"Yes," Mark replies, his tone monotonous. "May I enter?"

The guard nods and the gate is pulled open. Mark rides inside, heading straight for the stables. Part of him hopes Ethan is there, so he can see a friendly face and possibly have a conversation with someone for the first time in hours. He gallops across the field and hops off Belle outside of the stable, leading her inside.

Sure enough, Ethan, as well as the person Mark assumes is Tyler, stand inside, caring for the horses and talking about nothing in particular. The moment Mark walks in, Ethan grins.

"Mark, you're back!" he exclaims. His smile falls when he sees the farmer's expression. "Are you okay? And why do you have a Clydesdale?"

"Um, this was my mother's horse," Mark explains, feeling his throat closing up. He coughs a little, attempting to clear away the emotion. "She passed, so I brought Belle with me."

Ethan frowns. "I am so sorry."

"Thanks."

"My condolences," Tyler says. He takes a step forward, stroking Belle's velvety nose. "She is a beautiful horse. We will care for her like she's a royal horse."

Mark smiles, although the gesture is strained. "Thank you. You're Tyler, I assume? My name is Mark."

"Pleasure," Tyler replies, shaking his hand. He's a lot taller than the farmer had expected, but he seems nice.

"I must unpack my things, but I will see you two later," Mark says. Ethan and Tyler both wave as he exits the stable, walking across the gardens and towards the castle.

Mark makes his way to his room as inconspicuously as possible, his bag thumping gently against his leg. He slips inside, breathing a sigh of relief before beginning to distribute his items around the room.  He never thought he would like being in this room, but for some reason, it now feels comforting.  After a few minutes of putting things away and moving about, he hears a knock on the door.

"Come in," he says, his voice coming out softer than he would have liked.

The door creaks open, and Mark nearly gasps when he turns around and sees King Seán standing there. 

"How did you know I was here?" the farmer asks, fumbling with one of the books he places on the nearby shelf.

"Guards are required to inform the king if anyone enters the castle grounds that is not a guard or servant," Seán answers. The emotionless façade melts away, revealing a look of sympathy and understanding that makes Mark nearly cry. "I know why you're back, Mark, and I am so, so sorry."

"Thank you," Mark whispers. His eyes burn with tears, forcing him to turn away and continue to place items on the shelves and on the desk.

After a moment, Seán speaks again. "Are you staying?"

"Do you want me to?" Mark asks softly, glancing back for a split second.

"Yes." The royal stares down at his feet, taking a deep breath. "Or, I was hoping you would. If you wanted."

Mark blinks a few times as he places a small trinket on his side table. Seán is acting so out of character... Why? He coughs, hoping to clear some of the emotion from his voice. "I would prefer to stay here, if you would let me."

"I will let you. I want to continue our lessons, and I was hoping that you would come to the Autumn Ball as a representative of the Rubellus kingdom. Nobody from that kingdom has attended in years and you are the king, after all..."

Mark nods, his eyes welling with tears. He wipes a drop of moisture from his cheek and takes a deep breath. He doesn't know how to express his gratitude without crying, so he simply whispers "thank you".

King Seán inclines his head and exits the room, leaving Mark in solitude once again.