Royals and Rule-breakers

Mortality and Mistrust

She ran. That was all she seemed to know to do, fight and run, fight and run. Klaus could no longer see her, but he knew she could not outrun the horses.

Klaus looked back as the man whispered to his young daughter, then began to move to the door. It took the prince a moment to realize the villager's intent as he took a scarf and began to wrap his face, similar to Y/N. He reached for the man's arm to stop him, unsure of why, or what he was going to say. The man shook the prince's hand off, and Klaus stopped him again.

"I'll go instead."

"She told me not to let you leave." The man insisted, voice low and quiet, but unwavering; one did not simply turn down Y/N with all she had done.

"I'm sure she did- but I can't let you leave your daughter." As the words left Klaus' mouth, he realized why he was stopping the man. The man hesitated long enough for Klaus to continue. "I can work things out with her later; but if you don't come home-" he felt his throat close up slightly, shaking his head. "It's not worth it. Y/N can be upset with me all she wants, but your life is not worth it."

***

It was disorienting as Klaus stepped into the street, and he stopped for a moment, not just to figure out where to go, but to marvel at the collective thought of those in the town: heads wrapped in scarves and waists clad in makeshift skirts replicated Y/N's silhouette, over and over again, the real Y/N seemingly everywhere yet nowhere to be seen. The guards and their horses were impatiently maneuvering the crowd, inspecting, yelling, shoving.

Klaus wove his way through the street, searching desperately for the painter; he finally spotted someone who's eyes weren't trained on the chaos of the guards, but the crumbling structure of a nearby building, glancing over the bricks and broken wooden beams that lay on the ground. The prince raced to her, reaching for her wrist.

In surprise, she twisted her wrist away, but after gazing at his eyes for a moment, her tense posture and frown softened in recognition. "What are you doing here?" She whispered over the noise and her partial deafness.

Multiple answers ran through Klaus' head as he gazed at her for a moment, and all he said was, "I'm not leaving you." That was the root of his actions after all, he supposed.

Y/N seemed to think about this for a moment, face shifting from gratefulness to slight anger to exasperation and back to gentle thankfulness. "Alright then." Nodding, she handed him a wooden beam. "Stay safe. Don't let your scarf fall off."

"I- wait-" panic took root as he dropped the beam and Y/N picked up a couple more bricks, eyes now turned to the guards who stood out amongst the people on their horses; she watched them intently, nearly mirroring their actions: an arm raised with a baton, and so did hers with her brick. The guard was hit before the prince could stop the painter, and the remaining guards turned in their direction. Y/N took Klaus' hand and ran off down the street, once more disguising herself amongst the crowd.

Once the two had slowed, Klaus pressed his face close to her ear, frantic as he asked, "Why did you do that?"

She frowned. "Why, would you rather a civilian be beaten, or the guard?"

"I- Well, no, not the civilian, but you're drawing attention to yourself-" he stopped as the gruff voice of the guards rang out.

"Where are you, coward?"

And Klaus lost Y/N's attention again.

"And you all are willing to protect this little traitor... we might as well have to execute the lot of you if the bastard can't come forward..."

Klaus turned to Y/N, eyes widening as she shook him away and reached for the scarf on her own head to remove it and step towards the guards.

"No, Y/N-"