King On A Pirate’s Isle
Ben had expected a lot of things from the island, but finding love hadn't been one of them. What would happen if things had gone a little differently? A BenxHarry story...
A/N: don’t mind me writing the things tumblr doesn’t care about :)
Ben coughs as his eyes fly open, his chest screaming at him and his throat telling his chest to shut up so it can complain about its own pain.
"Rise and shine, princess," Harry says immediately, almost as if he'd been waiting for Ben to wake up.
"What happened?"
"I'm not a doctor, I don't know," Harry answers. If Ben didn't know better, he might think that was a dismissive comment instead of a secretly concerned one.
"Uma said something about answers..." he stars nervously.
Harry sighs. "Breakfast always comes before questions. I hope you still like bread."
He does. He really does. He likes the person serving the bread even more but he doesn't know why so he says nothing, telling his stomach to accept the bread despite his usual, stricter diet.
Harry eats nothing, he notices, but drinks what smells like candy and looks like seawater.
"Is your Highness done?"
"It's your Majesty actually," Ben corrects before he can stop himself. He doesn't know why he feels brave enough to do something like that but he swallows the fear in his throat.
"You what?"
"Uh, the king is usually referred to as 'His Majesty' and the, um, the title of 'Your Highness' is for princes and-"
"Alright, I've heard enough, you donkey," Harry mutters darkly, but not unkindly.
Ben frowns but lets it go since Harry has a look on his face, one that he associates with students in a classroom, and he doesn't want to see that genuine expression fade, especially not because of him.
"Harry!" Uma yells, which is all the warning they get before she's bursting into the room with a glare on her face.
"Yes, Captain?" Harry asks with his posture instantly more alert, his soft expression replaced by stiff respect.
"Have you learned anything yet?" She demands, pulling him outside even as she does.
Ben doesn't know what happens next but when Harry comes back in, there's a growing bruise on his arm and a dark grimace on his face.
"I'm sorry," Ben says.
Harry glowers at him, his gaze so much more intimidating than anything he's seen more, even deadlier than Uma's crazed grin.
"Don't stick your nose where your brain can't follow, princess."
Ben's mouth stops open in shock. He feels lost, like he's only just realised he's not at home, he's in a different land where there are different norms and different rules and different people.
Deciding not to apologise in fear of angering Harry, Ben nods and jumps to his feet, following the other boy as they make their way through the crew. Said crew smirks at him when he walks past, occasionally muttering something under their breath, but Harry ignores them so Ben tries to do the same.
"Gil, stop scoffing your food and take our royal idiot to the brig, would you?"
Gil glances up at Harry and frowns, his gaze landing on Ben's probably terrified expression. "What'd you do to him in one night?"
Harry just clicks his tongue and walks away, leaving Ben in the company of Gil, who seems to be okay with the ambiguity and just drags Ben back down the stairs and into the little prison.
Just as he's about to leave, Gil turns around with a conflicted look on his face. "Did he hurt you yet?"
Biting his tongue to stop his inner grammar police, Ben shakes his head.
"Did you hurt him yet?"
Again, he shakes his head. Gil nods in satisfaction and turns on his heel, leaving Ben to stare at the wood and its cracks for who knows how long, barely noticing when the sunlight intensifies before fading into a gentle darkness once more.
He's just about fallen asleep when Harry is back, opening the lock and pulling him back to his room once more. The grip on Ben's arm is strong - bordering on painful - until Harry closes the door behind them and lets go as if the contact had physically burned him.
Ben slides to the floor because he doesn't know what to do, he's not trained for something like this, he's never felt more useless.
"I once stepped on my crown," Ben says after a while, trying to fill the silence.
Harry looks at him from where he's lying on the hammock and raises an eyebrow.
"I almost broke it, too, but it was protected with magic so it just blew me backwards and I broke my wrist."
Harry whistles, then sitting up and leaning against the wall. "I fell out of the crow's nest."
"Why were you in a crow's nest?" Ben asks, trying to figure out what kind of crow this must have been to fit a human inside its nest.
Harry just bursts out laughing, almost falling out of the hammock. "The ignorance of royalty. I'm referring to the lookout's station on our ship."
The blood rushes to Ben's face like a moth to a flame and he shuts his eyes for a moment as if blocking his senses can turn back time.
"Were you okay?" Ben asks, his stomach twisting with embarrassment.
Harry grins. "I'm here, aren't I?"
"That doesn't mean you were okay," Ben replies quietly, unsure of where his concern is coming from. The confusion on Harry's face tells him he's just as bewildered.
"There was nobody there, actually, so I was fine."
To Ben, that's the exact opposite of fine. He doesn't verbalise the thought, though, still picturing the dark look Harry had thrown his way earlier.
"Right."
Harry shrugs. "What, you don't like heights?"
"I don't know, I've never been to a height."
"Never?" The shock in Harry's voice is virtually palpable so Ben looks away from his alluring eyes, trying to pull himself together.
"I, uh, no. It's too dangerous..."
"So am I and yet, here you are."
"But it's not like I chose to be here!" Ben argues, then wishes he could take it back.
The expression on Harry's face is one Ben won't ever forget, the combination of surprise, admiration, rejection, disappointment and rage burned into his mind and filed under things he wishes he could prevent from occurring. After a pregnant pause, the pirate gives him a subtle nod, then turns around, lying down and facing the wall, effectively ending their conversation.
Ben stares at his back, remorse filling his veins and regret weighing down his heart. It's too late to go back and not say anything so he just curls up as best as he can and shuts his eyes, hoping he can get to sleep and try to brush off the guilt squirming inside his soul.
"Goodnight," he whispers even though it's really not.
