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Love and War

Summary:

Prince Louis Tomlinson of Doncaster escapes imprisonment after being kidnapped by the prince of another kingdom. With his family dead and his dignity tainted, his heart is out for vengeance and justice as the next rightful king.

He tries to keep a low profile for the time being, hiding his identity while staying at one of his army’s military camps. Complications lie in the odd characters he meets there, especially that of the legendary General Styles.

Notes:

WARNING: there is a rape scene in this first chapter. If that triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please skip the first section of the chapter!!!

Other than that, please leave kudos and comments! I know my other works have been put on a hold for a long time, but I thought I would give you guys this to tide you over for a couple of days before I start updating again.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Looking back, Louis regrets being too proud to really listen his swordsmanship mentor. “Your Majesty,” he’d say with an air of exasperation as he knocked the prince to the ground yet again, “your form and technique are impeccable, but you need to be more aware of your surroundings. You never know when someone may try and take you by surprise.” It was good advice. Perhaps, if he had taken that into consideration, he wouldn’t be in his current situation.

 

Louis dropped the book he had been reading, the soft thud that it made on his bedspread muffled by the pounding of his heart in his eardrums. In the amber glow of his bedroom stood a man not much older than himself, dressed just as nicely as royalty should be. He was vaguely familiar: elvish features, tall, lanky, pale, dark hair, bright eyes. Louis knew his face, but from where?

 

“Your highness,” he greeted with a grin and a polite bow, amusement evident in his eyes as he took in Louis’ petrified form, “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

 

Snapping out of his initial shock, Louis scurried out of his bed and grabbed the empty glass bottle off of his nightstand. He held it out in front of his body, despite the two men being on opposing sides of the room. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my room?” Louis interrogated, making his way to the foot of the bed, wary of not being cornered.

 

His scowl deepened when the stranger laughed, raising his hands above his head in a mocking surrender. “Woah, kitty’s got claws, huh? It’s okay, your highness. Allow me to explain. I’m Nicholas Grimshaw. Although, you can call me Nick, of course.”

 

Louis slowly lowered the bottle but kept it tight in his grip. So that’s where he knew him from. “From the Kingdom of Oldham?”

 

“The very same,” he replied coolly, letting his arms fall to his sides. “As a fellow royal, I’d feel a lot safer if you weren’t holding a potential weapon to my face.”

 

“I’d feel better if there wasn’t an unauthorized prince in my bedroom, but here we are.”

 

Nick chuckled, taking a step closer, to which Louis raised the bottle up once more. He stopped walking once again, and Louis didn’t fail to notice the irritation that flashed across his face but was quickly replaced with indifference.

 

“Louis, there’s really no need for that.”

 

“Give me one good reason as to why not, and I’ll consider.” Despite his confident speech, Louis was still terrified on the inside, screaming for someone to help him out of this confusing situation.

 

“We’re not here to kill you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

 

“We?”

 

A crash echoed from within the halls of the castle, a high-pitched scream following soon after. Louis’ face paled. It sounded like one of his sisters.

 

His attention was on the door and for just a second too long, apparently, because as soon as he turned back around, the other prince was all he could see before he was knocked back onto his bed.

 

“I apologize for my men’s terrible manners. They weren’t exactly trained to handle these sorts of matters with etiquette.” Louis struggled as Nick climbed over him, putting the weight of his body down on Louis’ own. He was heavier than he looked. “As for me,” he continued, settling on top of Louis with a hungry glint in his eye as he stared down at the blue-eyed prince, “I plan to take care of you like the royalty that you are.”

 

Louis was a lot of things, but he was certainly not naive.

 

“Stop, please!” he cried out, trying his best to thrash around out of Nick’s grip, but it only seemed to anger the other Royal more.

 

“Stop struggling, you little—” Louis didn’t stop struggling, and with all of the strength he could muster, he ripped his arm out of Nick’s hand and shoved Nick down to the floor. Louis immediately made a dash for the door, and he could feel Nick right behind him. Right as got his hand on the doorknob, he felt a tug on his hair. The back of his knees were kicked in so that he fell onto them, and he screamed as he was pulled back by his hair into the bedroom once more.

 

His body was thrust carelessly to the floor, and he looked up just in time to see Nick standing over him.

 

“I tried to be civil with you, your highness,” he said, venom dripping off of every word, “but I guess we’re going to have to do this the hard way.”

 

Nick dropped to the floor, kneeling over Louis once more. Tears welled up in his eyes as Nick reeled his fist back and came down with a dizzying amount of force onto his temple. This happened three more times before Louis was barely conscious enough to register what was going on around him at this point. He could hear Nick talking, and he could hear the screams coming from outside his bedroom, but everything sounded distorted and distant, like he was underwater.

 

He could feel everything, though. He felt Nick’s hands as they tore off his clothes, felt his mouth all over his skin, dirtying him. He felt the horrible burn when Nick took him on the floor like he wasn’t even a person, like he was some kind of object. He tried to grab Nick, to tell him to stop, but it was all in vain.

 

He felt Nick in every place a stranger should never be, felt his back burning against the carpet floor. He felt everything and could do nothing.

 

His innocence was taken that night, along with everything else important to him in his life.

 

Nick had knocked him out when he began to come back to his senses and began screaming and trying to leave again.

 

The next time he woke up, he was in a small room where a man with empty, sorrowful eyes was sitting in a chair by the door.

 

Louis shot up straight, but fell back down a bit, his head pounding.

 

“What the hell?” he murmured, sitting up carefully this time. He examined the room. It was small and dark with only the necessities, it appeared. A bed, which he sat on, a water basin and a bucket, a small table under a too-high-up-to-escape-out-of window, and a chair, which the new mystery man sat in. Louis gasped and shuffled back until he was against the wall. “Who are you?”

 

“I’m not here to hurt you, your highness. Nick doesn’t even know that I’m in here.”

 

Louis’ heartbeat stuttered. It all started coming back to him, and he suddenly felt like throwing up, so he did. He dashed over to the bucket in the room and threw up, the disgust and terror crawling over his skin like a parasite. He leaned his arm against the rim of the bucket when he was finished, catching his breath.

 

Louis curled up into a ball on the floor, not crying but rather, staring down the other person in the room. “He raped me.”

 

“I know.”

 

“He violated me, he violated my home, my family—”

 

“Your family is dead, your highness.”

 

His heartbeat stopped altogether at that. That couldn’t be true. This person was lying to break him even further.

 

“You sadistic bastard. They aren’t dead.”

 

“They are.”

 

No they are not! Stop feeding me your bullshit!”

 

The man rose from the chair with a frightening amount of speed for a man of his size. “ Listen to me !” he roared, causing Louis to visibly shake and recoil into himself. He was standing, too, now, leaning against the adjacent wall. The stranger sighed and rubbed his neck when Louis looked up at him with fear in his eyes. “Look, kid,” he started, “I don’t agree with what’s happened here. I was there. I know what happened that night, and I think you have a right to know what’s really going on out there,” he confessed, gesturing vaguely to the window above them.

 

Louis made his way over to the bed again, sitting cross-legged on top of it. He hung his head. “I’m sorry. I’m just scared after… after everything,” he sobbed quietly. He sniffled, sighing and raising his head to face his new potential ally. “What’s your name?”

 

“I’m Paul. It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Louis.”

 

“The pleasure’s all mine. Though, I wish we could have met under better circumstances. Also, just Louis, please.”

 

Paul laughed. “We have met, Louis. Multiple times, even.”

 

Louis quirked a brow. “Have we? Are you a noble?” He feels like he would remember a noble who looked as rough as Paul did, who had the sheer presence that he did. Paul shook his head. “A general?”

 

“I’m one of the stable hands at the castle, your hi — er— Louis. I’ve been at the castle for longer than you’ve been alive.”

 

Louis’ eyes lit up at the information, his legs dropping to the floor and his body jolting in excitement. “You’re from Doncaster! Why haven’t you alerted anyone? Paul, you could get me home!”

 

“I’m afraid it isn’t that easy,” he replied gently. Louis watched as Paul leans back, the chair creaking from old age. He scratched the scruff of his beard as he thought, his eyes darting between Louis and the floor. “Nobody is supposed to be in your presence, except for Grimshaw. This is a tower connected to his castle. Sneaking out the stolen prince wouldn’t exactly be an easy feat… unless,” Paul leaned forward once more, resting his elbows on his knees, “unless you were able to either get him to let you out of the room somehow or, at least, make it seem that way.”

 

“The latter sounds like the more realistic option,” Louis interjected. His eyes grew dark as he met Paul’s. “We could also just kill him.”

 

“I would agree, but it’s too risky right now.” Paul scoffed and stood from his chair, pacing the room. “If Prince Grimshaw is found dead in here, there will be more hell to pay than if we just got you out of here.”

 

“Can I ask you something?” Louis asked. Paul stopped pacing and turned to him with a nod. “How did you get here, if you aren’t one of Grimshaw’s men?”

 

“I told you, I was there that night. I was able to take out two of Grimshaw’s men by the stables and take their gear. Lord knows that prince has his head too far up his own ass to notice that I wasn’t part of his team. No one else seemed to question it, either. I saw Grimshaw carrying you out of the castle, so I followed, looking for answers.” He smiled, earnest and warm. “I’m glad that I did. Having someone like you in power is worth the risk.”

 

“Thank you,” Louis whispered, his face heating up from the compliment. The gravity of everything was weighing him down to where he sat. His family was dead, and he was— as far as he knew— the king, as of right now. He shook the screams of his sisters out of his head, and he tried to swallow down any sort of image of his parents, defenseless and horrified. “Also, what happened to my family? You told me they were dead,” Louis pressed, his eyes forlorn but brimming with rage.

 

“In truth, I’m not really sure. All I know is that they are dead. Your father and your sister, Charlotte, were awake at the time, both in her room, though I’m not sure why. I assume that the others were asleep, at the time.”

 

Louis nodded, hanging on to every word. He had always grown up knowing that his family had a few enemies and many allies. He knew that there was always the potential for something like this, but the reality of it always seemed too far-fetched. Being in this prison cell of a tower, surrounded by silence and darkness, Louis realized that this is what it means to be a king: to live through tragedy and get through it for the sake of your people.

 

With this in mind, Louis stood up and faced Paul. “We’re getting out of here, Paul. I’m Louis Tomlinson, last of his name, King of Doncaster, and I am not dying in this shithole.”

 

Paul grinned. “You sound like a leader. Now, all you need is your kingdom.”

 

“And I intend to get it back. Give me as much information as you can about the layout of this castle and Prince Nicholas’ schedule, and we can get started on getting out of here.”

 

—————

 

The plan took three months to plan out. In those three months, Louis has been through hell. Nick came up almost every night right after sundown, and Louis had to mentally prepared himself each time for it. At first, he would fight back, would try finding clever ways of keeping him locked out or would try to knock him out. His attempts rarely worked and mainly ended with some form of injury on his own end, or some form of greater punishment. He was getting thinner by the day, his diet sparse and limited. Eventually, Louis learned to simply take his mind to other places, thinking of his family, of his kingdom, and of his revenge that would later come.

 

Paul would visit him whenever he was able, and they would get closer and closer to escaping every day. Paul took the maps and planning with him, in case Nick ever decided to go through his things. It never happened, but it was just a precaution.

 

It was exactly on the three month mark that their plan was ready to be put into action.

 

Louis’ body practically vibrated from adrenaline and anxiety. Paul, on the other hand, kept calm. “Okay, are you ready?” he asked, placing a comforting palm on Louis’ shoulder. “You’ve done this a million times. We’ve practiced. You have to keep his eyes on you, okay? I’ll be under the bed until…” he trailed off, gesturing for Louis to finish his sentence.

 

“Until I get the key out of his pocket and sweep it under to you.”

 

“Exactly. Then, you’re out of here forever.”

 

They stared at each other for a long time, both grinning with the excitement of it all. They pulled each other into a tight embrace, and Louis’ mind briefly thought back to his father. By the time they pulled apart, Louis’ eyes had filled with tears. “Thank you.”

 

“I’m proud of you, Louis. There’s no need to thank me. You’re the brave one. I’m just the accomplice.”

 

They laughed and attempted to calm their nerves for the next couple of hours until the sun began to set. The room was quiet by the time it was dark.

 

“It’s now or never,” Louis said, mostly to himself, before he turned to Paul, who patted his back and walked over to the door. He pressed his ear to it, and the silence crowded the room for no more than an hour before Paul stepped away, hurriedly whispering, “it’s time,” before sliding all the way under the bed and against the wall, where he was nowhere to be seen in the darkness of the room.

 

Louis took a shaky step towards the door. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, counting between the inhales and the exhales. The fear that all of this could go wrong threatened to overtake him, but he pushed it aside. They had made plan B and C and D and had thought of every possible way this could go wrong and what to do if it did.

 

He thought of his people, of his family, of the innocence that had been taken from him. He thought of these things, and the fear disintegrated in the flames of resentment and determination.

 

He was ready when the door opened.

 

“Okay, Lou, it’s been a long day, and I don’t have the patience for you to whine tonight, so get on the bed.” Nick began ordering before he’d even shut the door. Typical bastard , Louis thought bitterly. He didn’t move. Nick turned around to face him, and his face contorted in exasperation. “Louis, get on the fucking bed.” He shoved Louis with enough force to knock him into the bed and flipped him onto his hands knees.

 

“Wait!” he protested, flipping around and grabbing Nick’s wrist. He laced his fingers with Nick’s, obviously catching the older prince by surprise. “I was thinking that… I want to look at you. Tonight, I want to face you, Nick.”

 

There was a heavy, long pause. Louis took it as an opportunity to sell it, rather than wait for some sort of rejection. He took advantage of Nick’s vulnerability, slowly pushing them both up to a sitting position with his free hand and straddling his waist. He fiddled with the buttons of Nick’s shirt, then looked up at him through his eyelashes. “Let me undress you?” It was a command, but it came out as more of a coy request.

 

Nick smirked, finally out of his catatonic state, and Louis had never wanted to knock his teeth in more. “Yeah, babe. I’m glad you’re finally starting to get it.”

 

“Come here.” Louis stood back up, situating them so that Nick was facing the door, away from the bed, and Louis was facing him. He slowly began to undress Nick, tossing each item as close to the edge of the bed as he could without looking suspicious. Paul’s arm shuffled through pockets out of his peripheral vision. When he got to Nick’s trousers and pants, he stripped them off at the same time, getting on his knees and signaling for Nick to step out of them. He complied, and Louis tossed the last articles of clothing towards him and gave him a brief glance before peering back up at the prince with a seductive glint in his eyes.

 

“What are you waiting for?”

 

Wow , even when I’m basically gagging for it, he’s still a prick , Louis thought as he smiled up at Nick.

 

“I was just taking you in. I’m sorry for being so difficult all this time.”

 

Nick carded his fingers through Louis’ hair, and it made the king want to burn himself alive.

 

“It’s okay. I knew you’d come around.”

 

Bastard.

 

Louis slowly stood up, making it as sensual as he could without throwing up, and began kissing the prince. He kept his eyes open, watching Paul’s every move. He was slowly crawling out from beneath the bed, key clutched in his left hand. Louis could have cried.

 

Then Paul’s ankle hit the corner of the bed.

 

Nick’s eyes snapped open, but before he could say anything, Louis moaned over it and flipped them around. Louis fell back on the bed, pulling Nick down with him and kissing him fervently.

 

Nick pulled away from the kiss, looking down at Louis with more confusion and awe than before. “Damn, you’re really desperate for me, huh?” he said, that arrogant smirk slipping back onto his face. He could see Paul standing up straight, getting ready to see everything through. “You know what? Just because you’re being so good, I’ll even get you ready this time.”

 

“Oh, that’s okay, Nick,” he replied, his voice radiating a sarcastic kind of sweetness that had Nick laughing confusedly.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean that I’m ready.” The coy smile on Louis’ face fell and was replaced with a lethal glare. “I’ve been ready for a long fucking time, you piece of shit.”

 

Nick’s face twisted into rage, and right before he could make a comment, Paul yanked him back by his shoulder and rammed his head into the wall. Nick howled in pain, and Paul repeated the act until the room was silent. He wasn’t dead, but he wouldn’t be up for a long while.

 

The two conscious people in the room looked at each other.

 

“Holy shit,” Louis breathed. “Holy shit!”

 

“Yeah, I know. Let’s save the profanities for when we’re out of here, though. We have to be off the premises before he wakes up.”

 

“Right. You have the key?”

 

Paul waved it around in his hand before Louis blew out the candle and the two exited the room, Paul locking the door behind them.

 

They ran down the stairs, and Louis’ blood was pumping with adrenaline. He had never been more excited to see a set of stairs in his life.

 

Paul, on the other hand, was way ahead of Louis.

 

“Let’s go, Louis, come on!”

 

“Well, excuse me for not being able to exercise in the past three months!”

 

They get to the bottom of the stairs, and Paul opens up the door. Just like that, Louis is outside for the first time in three months.

 

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it yet. Not until he knows he’s a safe distance away from this place. Paul fixes him with a look.

 

“Okay. I’m going to carry you out for a while, but after that, you’re on your own. You can’t go back to Doncaster yet, but one of your military camps is set up about fifteen miles from here. After that, I’ll head back to Doncaster inform everyone that you’re alive and about the plan.”

 

Louis wanted nothing more than to protest. He wanted to argue with Paul to just let him go home, but he knew that it would only bring more trouble if he were to be recognized by someone in Grimshaw’s territory. He needed to keep a low profile for now.

 

“Right. Let’s go then.”

 

—————

 

The sun had barely begun to rise when Louis finally made it to the camp, but he could see soldiers already moving about the area.

 

Paul had given him some stolen clothes from the servant’s quarters before they parted ways, telling him to keep a low profile until news got to the camp that he was alive. He wasn’t sure how a bandana and baggy servant’s clothes were going to do him any favors, but he figured that he was already frail and ragged enough now to look somewhat unrecognizable. That, and he trusted Paul, so he sighed and made his way to the campgrounds.

 

His legs felt like they were about to give out by the time he’d made it to the edge. He sat down behind a tree, letting himself rest a bit before trying anything. He fell asleep before he could realize it.

 

—————

 

“Is he one of ours?”

 

“Uh, no? I don’t recognize him, but there’s a fuck ton of people at this camp, so I’m not sure. He looks too small to be a soldier.”

 

Louis heard the voices but didn’t open his eyes. Where was he again?

 

“You think he’s a spy for Grimshaw?”

 

“He looks harmless, Liam. I don’t think he’s much of anything.”

 

“Well, only one way to find out. Oi!”

 

Louis felt something blunt nudge into his shoulder, and his eyes shot open.

 

Oh. That’s right.

 

He’s at a military camp. These must be his men.

 

There were two of them standing over him, one of them crouched down to his level. One had short-cropped hair and brown eyes which looked very friendly despite his intimidating broad stature. The other soldier, much less threatening, looked a bit younger than the first. He had blue eyes and was less muscular than his companion. Neither looked quite ready to kill him. Nothing is out of the realm of possibility, however.

 

“Oi,” the same voice repeated, and Louis matched it to the scarier soldier.

 

“Hello,” Louis greeted weakly.

 

“Are you alright? We found you passed out over here,” the other soldier said, Irish accent filtering through his words. “You aren’t a spy, are you?”

 

“Niall, come on.”

 

What ? He’s not going to lie to us. He’s on Styles ’ camp. If he was a spy, he’d know better than to lie.”

 

“Wait, as in Harry Styles?” Louis couldn’t help the awe in his voice. He’d heard of Harry Styles, the bastard son of Desmond and Anne Cox, one of youngest military general in history, practically. Doncaster was lucky to have him, being a legend and all.

 

Both of the soldiers’ eyes narrowed at Louis.

 

The brown-eyes soldier’s expression changed to something confounded.

 

“Either you’re a terrible spy, or you’re just lost.”

 

“I’m not a spy,” Louis quickly clears up with an eye roll. “I’d rather choke on the barrel of a gun than work for that dirtbag.”

 

Niall cackled while the other unnamed soldier whistled lowly, trying to hold back a smile.

 

“Damn. Alright, I guess you aren’t working for the Grimshaw territory. Glad to hear it. I’m Liam, by the way, and this is Niall.” He gestured to himself and the Irish soldier respectively.

 

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Lou— um. Lewis. I’m Lewis.”

 

Liam and Niall looked at him quizzically.

 

“Lewis, huh?”

 

Fuck.

 

“Yes. My name is Lewis.”

 

Niall lifted Louis up by his arm with a grin and a pat to the back. “Well, Lewis, we aren’t supposed to let unauthorized personnel into the campgrounds, but I think you’re funny, and I don’t think Styles will notice if you keep to yourself.”

 

“Niall!” Liam exclaimed. “You can’t just bring him into the camp. That’s suicide!”

 

“Oh come off it, Liam. Styles won’t find out, and if he does, I doubt he’ll care for two reasons.” Niall took Louis’ face between his fingers and shook it around. “First of all, he’s adorable. Harry will like that because, as we all know, even though he doesn’t say it, he likes men like Lewis, and second…” Niall let Louis’ face go in lieu of putting them both on his hips. “If we tell him that he was just some small, fragile kid on the verge of death, he’d be more proud of us than angry. What’s the worst he can do, make us do dishes for three days?”

 

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger, and, after a few seconds of contemplating, he wiped his palms on his pants, then shrugged and sighed exasperatedly. “Fine, but he’s staying in your tent, and if we get caught, I’m knocking your ass into next week during sparring.”

 

“Deal!” Louis and Niall shouted at the same time.

 

Liam already looked like he regretted the decision the second he made it.