So this week will apparently be TDP week because you guys sent in two different asks for it so I wrote two different prompts. Posting one today and the other Friday. They could be combined but they could also be separate. Sue, I hope you recognize it.
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Sleep does not come easy tonight, not with rumors of assassins approaching the castle. Lance is uneasy, clutching at the soft quilt that lies on top of him. His silk pillows, normally a cool boon on a warm night such as this, feel itchy around his ears. Though he and Hunk are confined to their rooms, Lance knows the same as everyone else in the castle that a simple locked door is nothing to a Moonshadow elf assassin. If the lives of the prince and step-prince are called for, there is nothing preventing the elves from taking them.
A loud thud raises the hair on the back of Lance’s head and the shriek he’s been holding back all night escapes his lips, blankets held up to his chest protectively. He sits up in a cold sweat, his heart only slowing back to normal when he sees the bird in the window shake itself off and fly away.
So much for sleep.
Lance throws off the covers and slips into his fuzzy blue lion slippers. He puts on his robe and pads over to the door separating his and Hunk’s adjoining rooms.
He knocks and whispers, “Hey, Hunk? You awake?”
The door swings open, slamming against the adjacent wall. Lance is encased in strong, familiar arms, the air wheezing out of him.
“Dude,” Hunk says breathlessly. “I’m so glad you can’t sleep either. Rover and I have been silently freaking out all night.”
While not the most heartwarming greeting his step brother has ever given him, it's still one of love and Lance will take it.
Lance takes a large gulp of air once Hunk has let him stand back on his own, Rover the glow toad grunting in disinterest despite Hunk’s words. “You’d think Dad would have sent us somewhere, like, I dunno, the winter lodge or something? Or even taken us with him? I feel like the castle is the least safe place in the kingdom when we know there are assassins after him and maybe us too.”
Hunk shrugs, but his assurance doesn’t reach his face. “I mean, he probably thinks that he’s leading the assassins away from us.”
“Except I don’t think he told anyone he was leaving,” Lance stresses. “I mean, I know he hates me, but I’d thought at least he’d make sure you were safe.”
He hates the pitying look Hunk gives him, but he endures it, because he cares for Hunk more than he cares about his own hurt.
“Lance, he doesn’t hate you. You’re a prince no matter what anyone might say.”
Flames on candles flicker with a sudden gust of wind and the air cools noticeably. Lance’s heart leaps into his throat at the utter feeling of wrong that shudders up his arms. On instinct, he leans into Hunk and right before his eyes a blade slices through where he’d be standing just moments before.
Hunk clutches his shoulders and they both gasp as the elf appears before them, two very sharp katars pointed at the two of them.
Lance raises his arms in surrender, mind numb with the fact that the assassin has indeed come for them. “Fair Lady,” he starts nervously, “Would you be so kind as to move those sharp objects aside.”
He can almost hear Hunk’s resignation. “Bro.”
The assassin only readies her stance. “My name is Pidge,” she says evenly. “And I am here for the life of the prince.”
