FAIRY TALE AU: The Goat Prince Who: Annie, the Yorks... TBD When: Once upon a time... Where: A bountiful, peaceful, but ultimately rather patriarchal kingdom. What: Annie buys Rob and takes him home on a leash. Warning: It probably gets dumb. In progress.
Once upon a time there was a bountiful, peaceful, but ultimately rather patriarchal kingdom ruled by a benevolent king, Dmitri York. King Dmitri took a lovely young princess from a neighboring kingdom as his wife, and both were beloved by his people. One day, the king fell very ill, and when it became clear that his illness was outside the reach of the palace physicians to cure, the king decided it was time to name an heir. There were three princes in line for the throne, all of whom were far too young to rule, so the king determined that whichever of his sons was first to marry would be the one to take the crown. Until that day, the kingdom would be ruled by his wife, the lovely Queen Christine. That night, he died in his sleep, leaving the queen in charge.
The queen enjoyed her power for many years, and she was considered by her subjects to be just, but cold. She did not remarry as many expected her to, nor did she pressure the princes to do so. As time passed, it became clear that she had very little intention of giving up her seat on the king’s throne, and the people were soon forced to become accustomed to her presence there. Still, even the most powerful rulers cannot stop the passage of time, and the queen did age as any woman was wont to do. As the lines hardened in her features and her hair turned grey, her council reminded her that her sons had grown from babes to men in the decades since her husband had died, and advised her to consider passing the burden of running the kingdom onto one of them.
She considered her husband’s ridiculous decree, which had nothing to do with credentials and everything to do with potential grandchildren. As the king’s memory was still treasured by all, she felt that it was prudent to honor his wishes. The crown would be given to the first son to marry, but Christine knew that she could influence which son that would be.
Prince Joseph, the youngest, was a flighty, wayward thing who did not remember his father and would do nothing to uphold their family’s legacy. As it happened, he was also an effeminate sort of boy who had no interest in the fairer sex. On his twenty-fifth birthday, he absconded from the palace in the middle of the night with a brooding, flaxen-haired stableboy. Christine had his name stricken from the family records, and disowned for this embarrassment. His rebellion cost him any say in the throne.
Prince Theodore, the middle child, was obedient to a fault. A trait that Christine encouraged during his upbringing. He was often sickly, however, and did not evoke much in the way of confidence or loyalty. Poor eyesight, poor digestion, an off-putting, prickly nature... and, oh, the cowardice! He didn’t just fear battle, the way some men who were not fighters might, but he feared banquets, as well! What king balked at the idea of being seen in public? She was certain that the people would turn on him should he ever attempt to wear the crown. Although he’d done nothing specifically to rebel against her, Christine was adamant that he not be her successor.
Her only son fit to rule happened to be the oldest. Prince Stephen was everything Theodore was not. Tall, healthy, and brave. He’d never fallen ill a day in his life, was a man who sought adventure rather than run from it, and there was no denying that he was handsome. Princesses fawned over Stephen, and girls from all walks of life would flock to the palace balls and processions just in the hopes of getting his attention. He was the most desirable candidate for the throne, and the most likely to marry... should he ever choose to do so.
That was the difficult part. While the eldest prince was far from chaste, he seemed to have no inclination of settling down. From princess to washwoman, Stephen certainly enjoyed his dalliances, but he never proposed marriage to any of them. Whereas Theodore was cursed with a more dutiful spirit, and would have preferred an arranged marriage to a heated affair. Stephen cheerfully refused his mother’s offers to help him find a bride, telling her that he’d know the woman he was meant to marry when he met her. It was altogether very frustrating, particularly when the two princes reached their mid-30’s without a resolution in sight.
Christine ultimately decided that she could accept Stephen’s reluctance to marry, as that left her in charge, but there were niggling doubts in the back of her mind about her middle son. She’d seen him making eyes at women, and knew that all it would take would be a manipulative girl who was willing to look past his prickly demeanor to the potential power he could have. As Christine well knew, a wife could have far more sway over a man than his mother... and that was a troubling thought. Theodore was a liability, and if she was able to do away with him, then she could rest easy at night, knowing that the favored son would eventually rule after her death, if not before then.
But she had no reason to disown Theodore the way she had Joseph, and she could not bring herself to consider killing him outright. Instead, she turned to magic, and commissioned a curse from a witch that would turn her son into a billy goat. The goat’s muzzle was bound so it could not bite, and Christine had it sent out to a public market to be sold as stock. This might have been considered by some to be a drastic measure, but she did not want to keep the goat at the palace, for fear that seeing him would only cause her to feel guilt for doing what she felt was best for the kingdom as a whole.
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By the time Annie Thompson finally made it to the market, the sky was fading from blue to a brilliant canvas awash with purples and reds and streaks of gold that played across her flaxen curls. It would be dark by the time she made it back home, but that didn’t frighten her. She knew the woods better than most knew the back of their own hand. It was only two, perhaps two-and-a-half miles from the market to their modest home, and sure, there were creatures that lurked in the underbrush, but Annie never worried about that. Her entire family were hunters and farmers; animals didn’t frighten her in the least.
Not having much in the way of possessions or gold, her family often had to work their fingers to the bone to keep food on the table and wood in the fire, but they were happy, which was more than a lot of people could say. They had a small family, the Thompsons, comprised of Annie’s parents and her older brother. Where Annie was short and plump, her brother was tall and muscular, all tan skin and sparkling smiles. Unlike so many beautiful people, he wasn’t at all conceited but instead was kind and warm, just as their parents raised them to be. He offered to go to the market in her place, but she insisted that she was more than able to make the journey.
Annie didn’t waste any time as she moved through the rows of merchants; most were packing everything away for the night, so it was best not to dally. Using the large basket her mother had hand-woven for their trips to the market, Annie bought and gathered everything they sent her for. Even with their large garden and handful of livestock, there were some things that they needed, like bread and soap. She had just procured her last item when she caught sight of the billy goat. It wasn’t anything special, maybe even a little on the runt side of things, but she was approaching the merchant nevertheless. They didn’t need a billy goat, and Annie didn’t have the gold to spend, so why was she even entertaining the thought?
“How much for the goat?” she asked, eyes studying the pitiful looking thing. It just looked so sad.
“Been tryin’ to get rid of him all day. You can have ‘im for free, dear.” Annie eyed the old women suspiciously. It wasn’t often that anyone gave something away for free, so she found herself wondering what was wrong with the creature.
“What’s the catch? He doesn’t have any kind of disease, does he?” They couldn’t risk getting their other livestock sick. After being assured that the goat didn’t have anything wrong with him, she agreed to take him and wrapped her hand around the offered rope. “Thank you.” She still hadn’t the slightest clue what she would be doing with the goat or how her parents would react to having a new mouth to feed, but they’d make it work. They always did.
Between the weighty basket of goods in one arm and the other leading the goat through the dark woods, the walk home took longer than she expected, but they eventually emerged into the clearing that housed her family’s little cabin.
“I know it’s not much,” she said to the goat, well aware that he couldn’t understand what she said (or so she thought). “But you’ll like it here.” It would certainly be better than being cramped in that little cage, his muzzle bound with rope. Speaking of--
“If I take this off and you bite me, I’ll send you out to the wolves.” The threat was an empty one, and she hesitantly unwound the rope from the billy goat’s muzzle.
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The goat made an oddly human huff sound, jerking its head away from both her hands and the rope at the earliest opportunity. He lifted his nose in the haughty manner of an elitist, even managing a deep frown. The strange, horizontal pupils had to shift to focus on her, but he did seem to be looking right at her. There was a weary disdain in his expression.
“I don’t bite,” the goat informed her, in a clipped tone, its voice distorted but still very human. “But you might as well throw me to the wolves, anyway. Get it over with quickly.”
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So shocked by the very human voice that came from the goat, Annie stumbled back and tripped on a gnarled root, sending her flat on her rear. Her mouth was agape, her hazel eyes wide and stunned. She wasn’t crazy; she really did just hear the goat speak. Not only did he speak, but the way he lifted his muzzle almost made him look like some kind of royalty, if goats be such.
“W-What did you say?” Annie stammered, not yet lifting herself up from the ground. Her clothes were well worn, the numerous patches and stitches making it obvious that it was a hand-me-down that had been adjusted for Annie’s size. “You just spoke. You spoke. Say something else.”
Finally, she edged closer and studied him hard to assure herself that she wasn’t making anything up. He looked like your normal, run of the mill goat. “How can you talk?” Had the woman at the market known what she had? Something told Annie that if she knew what a … strange item she was in possession of, she never would have let go of the billy goat.
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“How can you talk?” The goat snapped back, prancing back several steps as she got closer to him. He hadn’t yet grown used to the way people felt that they could invade his personal space. Some of the villagers at the market had prodded him in all sorts of embarrassing ways before deciding not to go through with the sale. It had all been incredibly humiliating, but all he’d been able to do with his mouth tied was make bleating sounds of outrage. At least now he could complain properly.
“It’s very rude to stare, you know. Your maaaaaaaaa-” he shook his head, startled by the sound he’d made. That hadn’t been intentional. Clearly, he was getting too worked up. After pausing a moment to consider, he tried again in a gentler tone, maintain control over his mouth in order to form the correct words. “Your mother should have taught you that much.”
There. No aberrant bleating. For a second, the goat looked proud of himself. “Now. I wouldn’t normally converse with peasants, but in this case I’ll make an exception. If you don’t return me to the palace immediately, you’ll be in very grave danger.”
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Annie had to physically keep herself from laughing when he bleated at her. He sounded so sure of himself, so proper. Had he not been a goat, she might have actually thought he was some kind of noble-blood. Still, he wasn’t just a goat; he was a talking goat. Anyone else would have already been scheming on how to use the poor thing to gain gold, but Annie was too occupied trying to figure out how a billy goat could talk to her.
“The palace?” she asked, seeming to balk at the mere idea. What did a goat want with a palace? “What do you want from the palace? More than that, what are you going to do to me if I don’t return you? Headbutt me to death? Spit your cud at me?” Annie didn’t take well to threats, especially not from snotty little animals.
“You should be thanking me. Anyone else would be roasting you over a spit by now.” Huffing, Annie stood to her feet and dusted off her dress. “I’m not taking you anywhere tonight. We’re at least a two hour walk from the palace, and you wouldn’t make it ten minutes in the woods. A lot of creatures out there would love to make you their meal.”
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The goat whuffed at her, tossing his head and stamping his foot in a small tantrum. “Oh, I see how it is! So I’m to be your dinner, am I? Murderous woman! I’d have you thrown in the stocks if I were myself. You won’t be getting a decent meal out of me, that’s for certain. I’ll run off! I’ll be gamey! I’ll poison the lot of you! Cannibalistic heathens!”
He’d worked himself up into quite a state by this point, stomping in circles and shouting his outrage to the sky. There was even a brief dart in the direction of the trees, but the goat stopped himself. He wanted to make a point, but didn’t want to actually be eaten. Uncertainty set in, quieting his temper, and he took a few mincing steps back towards the cabin and the girl. Perhaps being eaten by her would be preferable to being eaten by unknown creatures. Maybe she could be reasoned with. His voice was softer, but full of petulance when he concluded by uttering, “I’m not meant to be food.”
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“No! No, you’re not going to be our dinner,” she insisted, though it seemed as though her reassurance fell on deaf ears as the goat had his tantrum. “Furthermore, even if we did decide to eat you, we wouldn’t be cannibals. You’re a goat. We’re people. People eat animals like you.” Annie had no intention of eating the goat, not even when she first purchased him. She still didn’t know why she traded valuable silver for him when she didn’t plan on roasting him for the family. Maybe it was because he looked so out of place. Or maybe she was just lonely and wanted a pet.
“You won’t be food, unless you keep drawing attention to yourself, and then I’m sure something out there will decide it wants a goat to fill its belly.” Cautiously, she inched toward him, her steps light and soft so as not to spook him anymore than he already was. “My name is Annie. This is my home. I didn’t bring you here to be food, you have my word. Do you have a name?”
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“Of course I have a name,” the goat said, managing to take offense even at the most common of courtesies. “It is Theodore Robert York, though you are free to call me ‘Your Highness’ or whatever term you peasants prefer to use when addressing your betters. I don’t normally travel outside of the palace, so I wouldn’t really know what modern vernacular trends are. And I’ll have you know that my being a goat is strictly temporary. There’s been a mistake. I wasn’t a goat when I went to bed last night, and the fact that I am now probably breaks at least a dozen laws.”
If it didn’t, it should. Once he became king - or, more likely, once Stephen became king - Rob would have to see to it that such laws were established if they weren’t already in the books. They couldn’t have royalty turning into farm animals. It was unheard of! Think of the chaos that could ensue if it became commonplace!
“So I won’t be performing any goat tasks,” Rob went on, trying to make absolutely sure that they were on the same page with that. “Whatever it is you force goats to do, I’ll refuse.”
He wasn’t entirely sure what goats were forced to do. People ate them, as had already been established, but he didn’t know what else goats were good for. If she thought she could convince him to produce goat’s milk, she was horribly mistaken, as he wasn’t a female goat. Nor would he be producing any baby goats, either, if she had a female goat on hand. That thought alone made his face screw up in an expression of renewed disgust. Ugh. Female goats. He shook his head to clear away the image. “So I’m useless to you. You’re either a royal kidnapper, or you’ve been swindled.”
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“Theodore Robert York?” she asked doubtingly, canting her head to the side so she could give him a good once over. Annie and her family might not have been well educated, but she knew the name well enough. If what he said was true, his mother was the queen, which made him the prince. But if he was a prince, then what was he doing in the body of a billy goat? He certainly sounded like a royal - a royal pain in her rear, but a noble all the same. “So you have no idea how you’ve gone and landed yourself as livestock, then? Either way, I won’t be referring to you as ‘your majesty’ any time soon. You might be a prince any other day of the week, but you’re an animal right now.” Mostly, Annie just wanted to give him a hard time. Even as a goat, he seemed to think he was above her. Never mind that anyone else would’ve been scheming and plotting to make a fortune from Robert York’s unfortunate circumstances.
Or they would just eat him.
“I’m certainly not a royal kidnapper. Trust me, if I would’ve known that you were a York, you wouldn’t have been able to pay me enough to go near you.” Had he been in his true form, she might have been worried that he would have her hanged for treason just for speaking to him that way, but she simply wasn’t worried. “I purchased you because you looked out of place and pitiful. Not for you to do goat chores.”
How was she going to explain this to her family? “But if you keep acting like you are, I’ll make you sleep out here tonight, and believe me when I say that there are things in the forest that wouldn’t mind feasting themselves on a member of the royal family, your highness.”
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He froze, peering at her with renewed intensity. She was still threatening him. Him! Even after being told who he was. The very nerve.
“So you’ve said,” he snapped back, a little annoyed that she kept falling back on the same type of threat. Why did she have to focus on his potential to be edible? It was neither kind or fair. He hadn’t been the largest or strongest man in the kingdom to begin with. Now he was much smaller than he’d been, and being reminded of the fact that he could easily make a meal for something bigger wasn’t in any way helpful. “What are my alternatives to feeding the forest, then? Are they much better? Do you intend to... to stable me with pigs and sheep and horses? I’m allergic to most animals, I’ll have you know. I’m allergic to hay. I’m... I’m allergic to a lot of things.”
He was surprised, actually, that he wasn’t allergic to himself in this form. He’d never been around goats, so perhaps they didn’t have the same dander as other animals, but he would have thought his eyes would be watering more, at the very least. “How should I be acting, anyway? How would you act if you were suddenly a goat instead of a girl? I doubt you’d handle it much better. I think I should be commended for not acting worse, considering I’ve been paraded in front of a whole village, naked, by a rope around my neck. Smacked around and groped by all sorts of people. That old woman didn’t do anything to stop it, either. She’d just hit me if I kicked. But I certainly think if you had some dirty farmer peering between your legs without permission, you’d kick, too! Who wouldn’t? Honestly!”
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“I never knew our prince was such a royal priss,” she murmured beneath her breath, still loud enough for him to hear the insult. Annie wasn’t a mean person; she just didn’t enjoy having a prince-turned-goat looking down at her. At least she was still a human being. “You obviously aren’t allergic to goats, at least. Maybe your allergies went away?”
She couldn’t just leave Robert York, even as a goat, out to get eaten or preyed upon by the other forest creatures, but he clearly didn’t take kindly to the thought of being housed with their other livestock. Annie certainly couldn’t bring him inside. They barely had enough room for the four of them, and they didn’t need Robert York complaining about their cramped quarters. They’d be different than what he was used to, that was for sure.
“I feel sorry for you. I do. I can’t imagine how frustrating it must be to be forced to interact with the people of your kingdom.” Alright, so perhaps she wasn’t being entirely fair. It would be frightening to wake up as a goat rather than a man, especially when said man was accustomed to the finer things in life. “Do you know who did this to you? It must have been someone with some power.” There were lots of people who would have loved the chance to make Robert York suffer, if only because he was a nobleman.
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Rob had fallen silent after her insult, and considered not answering her at all. Clearly, she wasn’t possessed of the capacity for understanding, let alone empathy. What help could she possibly be? He considered turning his back on her and ignoring her until she went away, so that he could go about solving the problem on his own, when she asked about who might have cast the spell in the first place. That gave him pause.
He wasn’t sure.
“If someone wanted to go after my family’s power, they’d fare better targeting my mother, the ruling queen,” he reasoned, and began to pace back and forth as he spoke, trying to work it out. “If they couldn’t get to her -- which is likely, as she employs all manners of security to protect herself, magical included -- it seems they should logically have gone after my brother. He’s the eldest, is often leaving himself susceptible to attack, and is probably next in line for the throne. Very little is gained by removing me. The system isn’t altered, the ruling order isn’t changed... there doesn’t seem to be much point, from the political side.”
If someone had done it in the hopes of ransom, they were going to be disappointed. They might as well have gone after Joseph, for all Christine would care. She certainly wouldn’t dip into the royal coffers for a less-than-perfect son, and she didn’t care to negotiate with criminals. It was against her policy.
Rob frowned, insomuch as a goat can frown. “If it’s a personal vendetta... As you so astutely pointed out, Ms. Annie, I don’t tend to fraternize with the people of the kingdom. Nor do I fraternize much with people who are not of the kingdom. I simply don’t fraternize at all. I detach. While I’m not blind to the fact that nobody likes me, I’ve not to my knowledge given anyone a reason to hate me, either. I’ve an estranged younger brother, but his estrangement is not my doing. My older brother is the one who gets into messy romantic entanglements. I’ve never scorned or stolen a woman’s heart. So far as I know, I’ve never greatly wronged anyone, let alone a sorcerer or a witch.”
“So... no.” He stopped pacing and looked up at her with his head cocked at an oddly inquisitive angle. The puzzled goat. “I’ve no idea who could have done this to me, or why. I’d be easy enough to assassinate. In fact, I’d be the easiest person in my family to assassinate. The servants don’t love me, and all it would take is an inattentive chef to put something I can’t eat in my food. It’d be a much less expensive way of getting rid of me.”
This was all spoken evenly, as though the idea of someone deliberately poisoning him had crossed his mind before. More oddly, that it didn’t really bother him that someone might. If anything, he sounded critical of whoever had hatched this plot against him for not taking the easier road. “So perhaps it’s a misplaced spell meant for someone else. My guess is Stephen.”
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Annie listened rather attentively as he tried to reason with himself. She and her family didn’t know much about the royal family, but she did know about Stephen York. He was known as the “handsome” York, and it was no question as to who would be the one to take up the royal throne once the queen either passed away or decided to give it up to a son. Since one was estranged, and one was a goat, Stephen seemed like the most likely candidate.
But what if that was the plan?
What if someone in the royal family wanted to ensure that Stephen was the one to rule? She didn’t know anything about their relationships or whether they were close, but the lengths people would go to in order to have power was sickening. “What about your brother?” she asked, genuinely curious. “Perhaps he wanted to make sure he didn’t have a contender for the throne. And then there’s your mother. Even you said she has access to the magicks.”
Even to an outsider, Stephen didn’t seem the type to meddle with dark powers. He was charismatic and beautiful, perhaps a bit flaky in his romantic exploits. The queen, on the other hand, seemed much colder. Not cruel, maybe, but certainly not warm and soft. “Don’t have my head removed for suggesting it, but don’t you think it’s possible that your mother wanted to ensure Stephen’s spot on the throne? Seems perfectly believable to me.”
No matter the situation, Annie’s family would be concerned if she didn’t go inside soon. “Look,” she mused, gesturing to the barn. “You’ll have to stay in the barn tonight. We’ll clear you out your own stall and sweep out the hay, but we’ll have to be quick about it or my parents will worry. Whatever you do, don’t say a word around them. They’re good people, but I’m not sure how they will handle a talking goat.”
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“It wouldn’t be necessary,” Rob said, rather petulantly, trying to brush away the idea as absurd before truly sitting down to examine it. He knew what the family politics were. The likelihood of his taking the throne were slim to none. Hell, he didn’t even necessarily want the damn thing. It would be overkill to get him out of the way. Stephen simply wasn’t that ambitious. His mother...
Well, now. Then there was his mother. “Overkill” was something she was known for.
His mind didn’t want to go far down that path, however, focusing instead on her proposal for his nightly accommodations. “The barn? You’re putting me in a barn? I won’t have it! I’ll freeze to death! I might contract fleas! There are insects everywhere out here. How am I supposed to sleep in a barn?”
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“You won’t freeze to death in the barn! It’s nice and warm. If you stay out here, you might.” This was already getting rather tiring. Annie wasn’t made for keeping royal brats happy, and her patience level was wearing thin. She was trying to be kind by offering to sweep out the hay, but now she was second guessing whether she wanted to try and help him at all. He clearly wouldn’t be a gracious guest. “Way I see it, you have two options. You can either sleep in the barn and be nice and warm, or you can sleep out here. There are blankets in the barn for the horses. We’ll get you one of those.”
Annie moved a few paces before him, clearly heading toward the barn, before she cast a glance over her shoulder as if to say, are you coming? “It’s your choice, your highness, but I would make your decision sooner rather than later. It’s getting cold out, and I would rather be inside when the things in the forest decide to go looking for dinner.” It wasn’t a threat, this time; she was simply stating the facts. Even Annie, who knew the woods like the back of her own hand, knew when to take shelter in her home.
Her expression softened. “I promise that it’s warm.”
======== Rob huffed, and hunkered down a bit in the grass that he stood in, considering taking his chances just staying right where he was. A horse blanket? Really? What a horrifying thought! But with every step the girl took towards the barn, Rob grew colder. He was essentially naked, and while that might be the natural state for most animals, it wasn’t his natural state. He didn’t sleep naked, and certainly didn’t sleep naked outdoors.
So Rob very reluctantly followed her to the barn. Silently. It had become clear that the peasant could not be reasoned with on the matter, so the prince opted to save his energy, instead. He had a lot to consider. A mental list of priorities to accrue.
Once he’d stepped across the threshold, he couldn’t help a muttered, “Oh, hell...” under his breath. The barn was truly a barn, after all. It smelled and looked exactly as he’d feared, but he didn’t resume his tirade. He just fell into a sulk, weighing the pros and cons of being eaten in his mind. A grisly death was terrifying to think about, but it might be a quick death, involving less embarrassment than hiding naked among the horses.
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The barn was dim but well-kept and as clean as a barn could be. They didn’t have many animals - just a few horses and some sheep and goats along with an old cow that they just didn’t have the heart to eat or put down. Tonight, they were all in the barn. The horses flicked their tails lazily and the cow groaned as she laid on her belly, her big dark eyes taking stock of Annie and their new visitor.
“See? It’s not so bad,” Annie insisted, ignoring the way he muttered under his breath. “You’ll have a stall all to yourself.” Now that he wasn’t going on and on about how he couldn’t be bothered to sleep with the other animals, Annie had time to really look at him, and she couldn’t help but notice that she really did feel sorry for the poor (former?) prince. He looked pitiful and frightened, all over the idea of sleeping in a barn.
Annie sighed, put both hands on her hips, and gave him another contemplative look. As far as goats went, he was a cute goat, and he just looked so puny compared to the other goats in the barn, who looked at her with their dumb, wide eyes. “Alright,” she said, already second guessing her decision. “Look, you can come sleep in my room, but don’t say a word to my parents. Let me do the talking. And if you bite me, I’ll put you in the stall with the other goats, do you hear me?”
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The royal goat turned its head up towards her, his eyes alight understanding. He was quick to take her up on her offer, giving her a sharp nodded and an expression that might be sincere gratitude. “You needn’t issue threats about biting. I would never. You have my word.”
For one thing, biting would involve putting something of someone else’s in his mouth to begin with, something Rob had no intention of doing, as a goat or otherwise. That wasn’t what mouths were for, after all. Besides, while he was admittedly prickly in nature, he wasn’t a complete asshole. Biting someone who was offering him any amount of improvement on his situation, however small, would just be rude. Gingerly, he made his way back over to her, staying quiet so as not to inspire her to change her mind. Rob knew that he wasn’t exactly personable and charming even at his best, and he was so very far from his best in his current state.
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“Alright, c’mon,” she said, reaching down to pick his royal little goat body up into her arms. “I’ll tell them that you’re sick, and that I’m going to let you sleep in my room to keep you out of the cold. Since you already look a little on the ... weak side, I’m sure they’ll believe me.” It wasn’t intended to be an insult. If anything, it would help them in the long run. “Like I said, don’t say anything.”
Her parents were waiting for her when she went inside, and her father greeted her with one of his huge, beaming smiles. “Took you longer than we thought it would. Thought you might have been eaten,” he teased, and Annie smiled back. “What’ve you got there? We have plenty of goats, Annie, and this one looks sickly.”
Annie nodded solemnly, putting on a sad face. “A woman was selling him at the market, and he looked so pitiful that I couldn’t turn away. You know how I am with animals.” As a child, she was always bringing in birds with broken wings or squirrels with tiny broken limbs, and her mother would always help her nurse them back to health. “I’m going to keep him in my room tonight so he doesn’t get cold.”
They chatted a little longer before Annie bid her parents goodnight, retreating deeper into the warm cabin until she reached her room. It was small - barely bigger than the bed and the dresser it held, but it was better than the barn. She waited until the door was closed before she sat him down once again. “Turn around and face the corner. I need to change.”
======== Rob dutifully turned around to face the wall. He also closed his eyes for good measure, even though she probably couldn’t see that he’d done so. Being a goat didn’t make him any less of a proper gentleman, after all. Of course, facing the corner didn’t prevent him from speaking, either, and since she clearly cared about propriety, the prince saw an opportunity to bring up another matter concerning him.
That of his own nudity.
“I don’t suppose it would be feasible to obtain any clothing in my size,” he began, making an endeavor to keep his tone observational, rather than complaining. He did appreciate the fact that she’d brought him inside, away from the other farm animals, and he wasn’t trying to make a nuisance of himself or get on her bad side. “I’ve never been naked for this long before in my life. While I realize that a normal goat is likely accustomed to it, for me it’s highly disconcerting.”