Silent Whispers (An Sbi/ Royal based Au)

part 21

Wilbur was still a small bit surprised at the fact Tommy had spoken in front of him, even if it wasn’t a lot. It was clear he hadn’t done so in around a year, if the croakiness of his voice at first was anything to go off of. Wilbur found himself enjoying the Boy’s voice the more and more he got used to speaking again in small bursts, and a part of him wished he could have met Tommy before everything went down hill. He seemed like a chaotic kid, one reminiscent of Wilbur’s younger self. It was a shame that it all changed soon enough, though….

Another thing that surprised him was Tommy’s interest in painting, along with how captivating watching a painter work could be. He had seen people paint before, but he was always the muse. Or he was too young to really take on the meticulous beauty that was painting. Each stroke of a brush had a purpose, a way of being tied to the completed product.

Seeing that unfurl was something breathtaking. He smiled gently as Tommy worked, speaking softly, “I didn’t know you can paint. Your really good.” He complimented, seated on the bed and sipping on some tea.

Tommy bit his lip as he looked to the scenery on the wall now. Trees Shrubs And a cottage in an autumn setting. he smiled to see it, as he took new paint on a new palette and added new clouds on it, taking a smaller brush and finely painting two people on it. A small boy and his mother.

She had blonde straight hair, with hazel eyes. Wearing a light baby blue and pink dress. The boy wore a white shirt with sandy coloured pants, held up with black straps. His smile wide and eyes sparkling under the setting sun in the background. Tommy wore the same smile as he watched the paint dry before running his hand over it carefully, as if he had memory coming back.

When he heard Wilbur compliment his painting skills he nodded. "Thanks" he spoke removing his hand and with that, the picture was finished. The land he had painted, was not from this kingdom due to the streams and a tree in it, a maple tree. He set the paints aside, placing their lids on the proper ones before he sat down on the floor. Some how, he hadn't managed to get paint on himself. Most people would of gotten at least a drop, but Tommy managed to get away from it scotch free.

Wilbur studied the painting as Tommy got closer to finishing, a soft smile staying on his face. The focal points of the painting seemed somewhat personal to the boy. The two figures along with the familiar land, it seemed more like a memory than anything. Or, maybe he was reading too far into it. It was still so very rare to find any trees that actually shifted in the fall in the empire. He must have been from somewhere else originally, or at least towards the southern border where the climate was warmer and evergreen trees melded into oak and maple.

It was still such a foreign scene to the prince, with the leaves being painted bright auburns, reds, yellows, all sorts of warm tones that seemed out of place on leaves in his eye. The willow was one of the only trees nearby that blazed warm colors in the fall, most others being evergreens around the castle.
“Fall colors have always seemed so gorgeous to me.” He hummed, smiling.

Tommy starred silently to the painting as he saw Wilbur looking at it. He knew the prince didn't recognize this land, as it was on the borders of his empire. It was Tommy's homeland. He didn't always live in the capital or mainland of the nation. He was from the ends. A small little village of maybe a hundred people.

"I wasn't always here" he said softly looking to the woman he painted. "My home was of gold and silver. Nothing like seen here before" though it wasn't a rich family he was born into a nice home, with once loving parents. Knowing Wilbur didn't quite understand what he was saying he thought of a way to say it. "You took care of me this far, so its fair I tell you the story here" he said moving to the bed to sit beside him

'Long ago, A child was born. He had no sibling. But that didn't bother him, as his family was happy. They spent ever moment in joy. But times turned dark as the small town was pillaged by the neighbouring nations, and they had to flee. To the capital they went for refuge. Seeking shelter at an inn. His mother found work,, and his father served as a soldier. To make rent. but as time went, one by one they left. Never to be seen again.Years later, A noble took the boy in, having found a bit of fondness and loyalty in him. He had gained a new home and a few friends. But he never could forget. The silver and gold of his homeland. The rich maple trees, and silver clouded skys.

The boy Tommy knew very well. Never once had he told his story. Never truly trusting someone this much. Never fully having the speech to do it if he did. Not till Wilbur. That fate filled day in the gardens, had changed everything for him.

Wilbur glanced over towards the boy, humming softly. He could already infer the fact from the picture alone. Only in the outskirts of the Empire’s borders could you find so many Trees that weren’t evergreen. There were some scattered through the capitol and cities far north, but not to the quantity shown in the painting.

He paused as Tommy started speaking again, sitting beside the prince to better discuss. He would never  expect that the boy would tell Wilbur his story. That was more personal by a long shot, and the prince was surprised to say the least.

He listened, saying nothing as he let Tommy speak. It was nice to hear the boy’s voice after so long of him being silent. He nodded after Tommy finished, frowning gently. “I’m sorry… that  all of that happened to you….” He murmured, looking up at Tommy. He felt guilty, in a way. It was wholly possibly the empire could have been the ones to have seized the boy’s hometown, and he didn’t even want to think of what may have became of his parents. They were more than likely dead, and if they weren’t they had abandoned him.

Wilbur wasn’t sure what was worse, especially since he knew the pain of losing a parent himself. He glanced towards the boy, “I wish I could have helped sooner in some way….” He looked back towards the painting, staying quiet for a minute. “But, Thank you, for telling me."

Tommy shrugged it off. To him a story was a story just itching to be told. To be remembered. Perhaps that's why he said it? Why he thought it was time to tell his own. The blonde wanted to be remembered for once, to me remembered for who he really was. Not some castle aid, serving the very kind prince finding favour with the palace courts. But as a farmers son, who once lived a peaceful and gentle life.

Tommy knew what had befallen his parents. His mother passing from a severe sickness she had fallen ill right before his eighth birthday and didn't make it to long after that. His father was a soldier for the army. Whom he never found the fate of, but could only assume the man had fallen a heroic soldier for King Philza. That is what he believed and lived with. But part of him missed it.

he missed the Maple trees and the silver sky's before the rain in the hot summer. He missed the rivers that surrounded his home, and that he had played in once so joyfully.  It was clear he longed to go back as he looked to the picture with a heavy heart. He hadnt seen those lands in along time. It was coming on eleven years. He was fifteen, turning sixteen soon. He had hoped that the picture he painted was accurate still to the lovely fields and forests there today.

He stayed silent again. As he dreamt of going back. Of course he'd never Wilbur's side. He would serve him till he would die. Day and night, good and bad times. And so, he had little hope that he'd see it again, but it was nice to still have the image in his mind.