Royalty (NEWTMAS)

0.2

The guards walked back out to where Thomas stood. He didn't notice them, as he was staring down at his feet, until they grabbed him by the wrists again. Thomas didn't try to fight them off. Most of the bruises had already formed. It didn't take long for Thomas to realize he'd also have a few broken ribs.

When they got into the large room, Thomas gasped. This room alone was twice-no, three times-as big as his house. It was a mystery how Thomas could see the end of the room where a throne and person who sat in it. The guards led him further into the room. It dawned on Thomas that he-nor anyone else who didn't work in the castle-had never seen what King Newt. He didn't know what to expect.

Well, he knew he wasn't expecting him to look like this.

(The following description of Newt is how James Dashner described him in the book, not how he was portrayed in the movies! Full description is ☝️)

King Newt had blonde hair that hung down to his shoulders. Even though he was sitting, Thomas could tell the King was tall. When King Newt noticed the two guards and Thomas, he immediately stood up and walked toward them. It didn't take Thomas longer than a second to realize that he had a limp. The closer he got, the more Thomas realized he was muscular too. A faint smirk found it's way onto King Newt's face.

"You weren't bloody kidding when you said boy," King Newt said, his voice strong with an accent of English or Scottish-Thomas couldn't really tell. In the corner of his eye, he saw the two guards nod. "He doesn't look like a murderer, but he could very well be. Well, what are you two still here for?" The guards quickly let go of Thomas and left. When they left King Newt started talking again. "What's your name?"

"Oh, uh, Thomas . . .?" Thomas stuttered, unsure how to act. His nervousness seemed to be amusing because the next thing he heard, was a laugh coming from King Newt.

"Well, Tommy," Thomas involuntarily blushed at the nickname, "I'm not going to kill you." Thomas was taken aback.

"Y-You're not?" I asked, my eyes widening. "Don't you have to kill me?"

"Did you murder the girl?" Thomas shook his head. "Well, there's your answer. But I'm also not going to let you go." When he saw Thomas' face, he continued, "I don't ever get to meet people my own age. Maybe it won't be so bad having you around here."

"I'm honoured," Thomas said quietly, "but I'm only 17."

With a wave of his hand, King Newt admitted, "I'm only 18. Don't ask about the law. Maybe if we become good enough friends I'll tell you why I'm King at such a young age."

"King Newt-" Thomas started but was cut off by King Newt.

"If we're going to be friends, call me Newt. Not King Newt or anything like that. Just call me by my name: Newt."

"Okay, Newt," Thomas paused, admiring the way the older boy's name sounded, "I just want to thank you. You not killing me means so much to me."

"Well how could I kill a God-like person like you?" Newt winked then went on as if nothing had happened, "I'll call a guard in to get you a room." Newt limped out of the room, leaving Thomas to process what Newt had just said. He must have misheard him, right? Yeah, obviously. It was just the blood loss and broken bones.