it is 3am and i have school in 3hrs but i had a thought and i wasn't gonna sleep until i got it out
also this is to make up for the last prince! time piece that i wrote but shh
"The least you could do is look interested," the king chastises, his meaty hand managing to pinch the prince's skin through the layers of fabric that covered his elbow. "The last thing I need is an alliance falling through because your spoiled ass couldn't muster a simple thank you."
Time shrugs him off, leaning into the padded arm of the smaller, less decorated throne. He cushions his chin and cheek with his palm, eyes looking everywhere but the four other bodies that occupied the cold room.
Ignoring the rattling in his chest that comes from defying anything the king says, Time forces a stuttering sigh to leave his mouth and stands. "I feel ill," and restless. His voice carries and echoes despite how quiet he is, and he doesn't like it. "I need to rest." His fingers clench, his nails and overly-bejeweled rings biting into the skin.
His knight is quick to take a stand beside him rather than behind. They offer a hand, waiting for him to interlace their fingers and wrap his arm between theirs for support.
You don't stagger when he leans most of his weight onto you. You were no stranger to it and you'd be a fool to not admit it was a reassuring reminder of his trust in you.
His head finds itself pillowed in the space between your jaw and shoulder despite the awkward angle and position it looks to put you both in.
If you hadn't found yourselves like this a million times before, you'd gently reposition him.
"Less than a dozen citizens are waiting to be seen and we've seen at least a hundred since morning broke, Your Highness," you're quick to say upon seeing the way the king's face reddens. "Surely a break is in line for the prince and the candidates. Would lunch and a moment to recollect themselves not be a good idea?"
The king's lips thin and his eyes darken into a glare, but it all calms when the advisor places a hand on his shoulder. "It would be best, yes." You're quick to lead Time away when they wave you both off, ignoring the tickle in your neck when his ear twitches at their saying "an hour recess can be put in order."
You both know how to play pretend until you reach the privacy of his bedroom. He keeps his breath heavy in the crook of your neck and you force your spine to remain straight under the peering eyes of your subordinates that lined the castle halls.
Time pries himself off of you and collapses onto his bed back-first when you shut the doors. His arms are raised to the ceiling and his hair is splayed out to look like a halo, making him in the likeness of an angel.
He beckons you closer with a flick of his wrist once the undeniable click of his doors locking hits his ears. All it takes is a tug of your arm to make you fall atop him and you couldn't help but be thankful that your commander hadn't made you wear any type of armor under or over your royal uniform.
"All this talk of weddings," he scoffs, one hand coming to rest on the middle of your back while the other knocks your cap off so he can bury his nose in the crown of your head. He takes a deep breath before speaking again, the hand on your back keeping you pressed against him impossibly close. "It makes me wonder what we'd look like in matching outfits of our own."
You hum against the column of his throat, nose bumping against his chin when you lift your head to look at him. "We were matching when we got married," you huff, plucking his crown and turning it in your hands. "You were the one that chose what we wore."
"That's different." The pout on his face is priceless. He turns his head away when you thumb at his lips, still managing to carefully watch when you wipe the near-clear and shiny residue on your own. "It wasn't an official wedding. It was only us, Malon, and Cremia— and we didn't even exchange rings."
You raise a brow and lift yourself until you’re sitting, weight resting on Time's middle. Placing the crown on your head, you undo the clasps and buttons that keep your cape on your shoulders and your coat together respectively.
It's like a practiced dance as you go through the motions to remove the pins, medals, and tassels that keep you from removing each upper part of your uniform as Time busies himself with fixing the crown.
"Is this not a sign of our marriage?" You pull the collar of your undershirt down until he's able to see the small tattoo that sits over your heart. Time replaces your hands, keeping the shirt away and framing the image he had designed himself. "Is my devotion to you not another?"
Time feels the bumps of the pattern beneath his fingertips when he rubs them over the skin. "They are," he mumbles, a pensive look on his face.
"You've heard me say it a hundred times before."
"Why would I have an issue hearing it again?"
He sighs and drops his hands so they rest on your calves. "I just wish to go public with our marriage, that's all."
"One day," you promise, leaning down until your lips touch. The kiss is chaste and he chases you when you pull away, but doesn't do much else other than press a kiss to your collarbone. "Now help me get dressed. I'm sure someone will bring you food soon and the last thing we need is a scandal."
"Whatever you wish, My Grace."
Omg thank you for this maj-
PRINCE!TIME FLUFF YALL!!!!! And i love that he called reader ‘my grace’ and my hear is just so 😭😭😭
ALSO MALON BEING AT THEIR ‘WEDDING’ YES PLEASE!!!!!!
She def helped with sneaking the two away so that they could have little secret dates!!
