draft about a prince bringing his snowman to life.
Prince Brian (he/him) the star of the show, gnc aroace.
Flurry (he/they) co-star of the show, gaaaaaaaaaaay nonbinary.
King / Queen Alvar (he/she) Brian’s grandparent, genderfluid lil shit.
Vice-King Felix (he/him) Brian’s father, Angel’s son, Lorraine’s husband, Conrads’s Best Fucker Forever, trans biromantic gay lil shit.
Vice-Queen Lorraine (she/they) Brian’s mother, Felix’s wife, Conrad’s metamour, trans ace demiwoman.
Chamberlain Conrad (he/him), Felix’s fucktoy, Lorraine’s metamour, aro gay lil shit.
Prince Brian was taking a moment to himself in the gardens. The snow all around him was deceptively deep. His legs fell right through it.
Two feet had fallen in less than an hour the previous day, burying the shriveled leaves below. The previous night had been dedicated to its arrival. Brian’s grandfather, King Alvar, said that each snowflake was a gift of the goddess Bliza, handcrafted by herself and her charges. Snow moisturized the earth so that it would be ready to grow food in the spring. The Elves marked the first snow of the year as a sign for the land and themselves to rest.
Brian didn’t think anybody had done much resting last night, however. There were simply too many drinks and too many songs to enjoy. To say nothing of the chowders and dancing as well.
They were making it up this morning, surely. Brian had heard quite a bit of snoring, as well as the grumblings of hungover and aching people working morning shifts, on his way out to the gardens.
Amidst all the snow, Brian stood like a long shadow due to his height and dark clothes. His coats and scarf were a blue-green, evoking the wintry pines surrounding him in both color and pattern. His hair was black, like his father’s and grandfather’s; and his eyes were a reddish-purple, like his mother’s. His height, he’d gained from all his family. Hardly anyone in his lineage stood under 5’10”. And as for build, he favored the bow, so his muscles were sturdy yet slender. He was not the sword-master like his parents and grandparent.
As wartime had since passed long before his birth, he’d hardly done any true combat at all. He patrolled the forest, of course, and helped with the hunts; but nothing overtaxing. Certainly nothing to make him fear for his life.
His father, Vice-King Felix was very insistent that was no need for Brian to become so fierce and dutiful. Brian suspected that his father wouldn’t let him even if there was a need. He’d had to beg just to be allowed to help with the hunt.
“Yes, he’s young,” his mother, Vice-Queen Lorraine had needed to say, “but he’s hardly a child. Let him go, Felix.”
Felix’s mouth flattened line, his desire to never deny his partner anything conflicting with his desire to never endanger their child in any way. Yet finally, the former desire won.
However, there would not be another hunt this week. So instead, Brian busied himself with crafting a sculpture. He had to work the snow very gently, but it was clumping, so it eventually began to take form.
An elf made of snow.
Brian stood back to admire it. He made a few tweaks to smooth out its fave and ears, but otherwise, he deemed it quite respectable.
It stood low enough to rest its face on Brian’s chest, if it could do such a thing.
Brian blushed. He glanced away, fiddling with his scarf.
But his gaze was drawn back to his dear sculpture.
Brian would never be able to explain why he did this next thing. All that crossed his mind was, “We can’t let you get cold now”, but surely snow sculptures couldn’t get cold? He was acting far more fancifully than he usually did.
But anyway, he wrapped his scarf around the sculpture and smooched its forehead.
And then he ran away like a disaster. Something else he’d inherited from his father. He blamed his blush on the cold.
Prince Brian went out to visit his snow elf again, but it was gone! He looked around and racked his brain. Perhaps he’d made it somewhere else? But no, he was sure this was where it was…
Even the scarf was gone too.
Brian looked around some more. Even if someone had taken it, why would they destroy the sculpture?
“What a strange mystery we have afoot,” he said.
He heard movement behind one of the trees. He saw a flash of bluish-green―the exact color of his scarf! Brian moved quickly.
The tassels got caught up in the branches. That temporary entrapment was enough for Brian to catch up. He caught hold of the wearer’s wrist…
and realized he wasn’t wearing anything else.
They both blushed ferociously.
“What? What are you doing…” Brian could hardly collect himself. “What are you doing out here without any clothes?”
“This is all you gave me,” the stranger signed, looking anywhere except at Brian.
“What are you?”
The stranger inched forward and placed his head on Brian’s chest.
Brian finally realized.
He nodded. A small, very big answer.
Brian embraced him at once, and the stranger embraced him back.
“Oh! Here!” Brian placed his outer coat around him. “Can’t have you going cold, can we?”
The stranger shook his head with a smile.
Brian brought him inside. They held hands the whole time.
Since Brian didn’t have any clothes prepared for his new friend, he collected some of his own for him to wear.
“How do you feel?” Brian asked.
“Tight,” he signed.
They were going with the name Flurry for now, for it was a flurry that brought him to Brian.
Brian hummed. His clothes were obviously built for someone taller and slimmer. At least for footwear, they could will out with extra socks.
“Why not simply wear my coat again?”
He looked much better. The physical fit still wasn’t great but it fit his character.
Flurry yawned. It was then that Brian realized how tired he himself was as well.
“Would you…?” Brian started to say. “It would take hours to get a room ready for you, mostly to warm it up. You don’t have to, of course! We can―”
Flurry got onto the bed and buried himself in the blankets. He reminded Brian of a caterpillar. Maybe Flurry, too, would sprout wings.
Flurry snuggled close as soon as Brian came to the bed.
It made Brian feel very happy.
Brian held Flurry close all throughout the night.