Hey nina!!
I absolutely adore rogue Max sweeping away Charles, because who else could be his other half?
I can see Charles being stubborn and bratty before slowly realizing how much freedom he has now. All Max wants is to be close to Charles, other than that, he can do anything he wants. I see Charles choosing to wear whatever he wants, and Max buying it of course. He can wear different colors and styles. Ferrari kept him strictly in red dresses that covered every inch of skin.
Charles can also do new things, as Max doesn't handle him with kid gloves. He asks Max for his sword and Max gives it to him with the brightest smile and a little "of course, Charlie, be careful". Charles has never been allowed near a blade and revels in the feeling of the sword in his hands.
Charles sitting in a forest meadow in a blue dress that shows off his neck and ankles (scandalous) with his very own weapon at his side drinking wine with Max who he is slowly warming up too, and learning to be his own person outside of the crown.
(also Max gets him his own crown to Charles liking, not the ugly ones he was forced to wear)
~Q9 :)
Hi Q9! 🫧
Prince Charles x Rogue Knight Max AU: Part 1
Yes!! Max spoiling his prince but also recognizing how capable and strong Charles is and allowing him to explore new things and find out what his interests are?? This would be super important to Charles growing/developing as a person because his entire life has been so regimented and structured that he's never been allowed to develop hobbies or passions of his own. His whole life directive was to protect Ferrari, defend Ferrari, and live for Ferrari.
But now, with Max, Charles is suddenly realizing how new and strange and beautiful the world is outside the confines of Maranello...outside the elaborate gilded cage he was raised in.
Imagine Charles waking up in Max's arms because the devilishly handsome rogue insisted they share the single bed...after all, it wasn't safe for Charles to sleep anywhere else and Max wouldn't feel right unless he was by his prince's side.
Charles insisting he's going to sleep in his formal robes but quickly realizing how uncomfortable he is. Stubborn Charlie refusing to admit it and pretending to be "just fine" while laying stiff as a board in bed. Max chuckling to himself before getting up and removing his leather garments, arm braces, and breastplate.
Charles watching with wide eyes as the rogue exposes miles and miles of scarred skin and formidable muscles that look so strong and big and...um...he quickly ducks under the blankets when Max catches him looking.
He chuckles. "You're more than welcome to look, my prince. I hope I'm to your liking?"
Charles feels his entire face turn bright red as he pulls the blanket over his head. "You do not need to fish for compliments. I am certain you have been told how handsome you are by those...women of the night."
Max bursts out laughing. "Women of the night?"
"Do not pretend like you don't know what I mean!" Charles yanks the blanket off his head and sits up in a huff, body sore and uncomfortable from his restrictive silk robes—
Only to see the rogue knight standing in front of him, bare chested, wearing only the tight leather pants that hug his large, muscular thighs before disappearing into his thick black boots.
"I—oh, um—" Charles is frozen, he doesn't know what to do. His wide, jade eyes are fixed on the imposing figure standing in front of him, utterly shameless, with a small, delighted smirk curling on his lips.
"Mmh, I suppose this answers my previous question." The knight tosses his linen shirt in a corner. "You do find me pleasing, my prince."
Charles squeaks when the rogue comes closer, footsteps even and measured before he's right there, standing in front of the bed. "Let me help you from your garments, my prince. I can't imagine it's all those silk ties and laces are comfortable."
"I...that is most improper—"
"Your comfort, and your ability to get a good night's rest, is more important than propriety." Max cuts in.
"I thought you said I wasn't your prisoner!"
"You're not." He acknowledges. "But you are my beautiful, stubborn, spoiled prince who will give himself a crick in his neck and a sore back if he insists on sleeping in his corset."
Charles has never been so embarrassed or enraged or strangely amused in his entire life. "I should slap you and scream." He replies stoutly.
Max smiles. "Make all the noise you like, my prince, these walls are thick and they've heard many screams. Mostly those of pleasure, but I'm sure there's been a few irate screams from a jilted wife or irate husband in here as well."
"You're a scoundrel." He huffs but lifts his arms up. "Well? Are you going to help me or not?"
"Of course, my prince."
And—it shouldn't affect Charles, it really shouldn't, but seeing this shirtless, well-muscled, mysterious rogue call him my prince while bowing...
He bites back a whimper when he feels the strange knight's hands on him. "Be careful with the silk, it's imported from Catanzaro and—oh..." He trails off, shocked when air suddenly rushes back to his lungs as Max expertly undoes the laces in record time. "Not even my handmaiden can undo my laces so quickly..."
"Call it a gift, my prince." Charles can hear the smirk in his voice.
"Have you had a lot of practice then? With the laces?" He tries to sound nonchalant but can't help the faint hint of jealousy in his voice.
"In the past, yes." He moves to unhook the first layer of Charles's robes off before discarding the yards of silk on the same chair that holds Max's leather armor.
"Were they beautiful?" He asks, but the question sounds more like a command than a curious inquiry.
Max chuckles. "They were exquisite beauties."
"Oh. I suppose you also went and kidnapped them?" He tries to cross his arms but the knight has already moved to unlacing his corset, fingertips centimeters away from his semi-sheer chemise. "Well?" He demands. "Am I just another prince in your long line of conquests?"
Charles feels humiliated. To think he actually thought this duplicitous former knight actually meant it when he called Charles his beautiful boy and that he adored him and—
He feels a warm pressure near his shoulder blade—a warm, soft pressure that feels like someone's lips pressing against his skin.
His chemise is low cut, exposing far more of his skin than was proper and it appears that the rogue in question had taken full advantage of Charles's rumpled clothing.
"My beautiful boy," he kisses Charles's shoulder blade again, "you are so far above every lover I've ever taken. You mean more to me than they ever will because you are mine, Charlie. Mine to love, mine to protect. You are my other half, schat, and I will never let you go."
The words should terrify him—they should send Charles into a fit of frenzy because it is his kidnapper confirming that Charles will never see his family or his homeland again.
But instead, there's a light, effervescent buzz that electrifies him—as if he's spun in circles and drunk too much champagne.
"You are very bold, sir." He finally manages to mutter.
Unbeknownst to Charles, his body unconsciously leans back, seeking Max's warmth.
The rogue knight tugs his prince closer, allowing his lovely boy to rest against Max's bare chest. "Sleep now, my prince. You're safe. Tomorrow we travel further north."
"Why so far north?" He yawns, eyelids feeling heavy.
"So I can take you to my home, schat. A little village near the border of Milton Keynes. A home for us to settle into."
He feels another soft pressure—another gentle kiss—but this time, it's pressed to the nape of Charles's neck.
"Sleep, mijn liefje, I'll protect you."
