A Prince Overnight

When Folco is sent home from school, he expects trouble. Instead, he finds out that his land's government has just changed from republic to monarchy. The new king? His father.

            Did she  just say what I think she just said? It was as though their mother had suddenly sprouted wings and started flying around the room, for all the sense she was making.

Folco cast a sidelong glance to Xenia. Surely his sister’s ears had picked up their mother’s actual words and not the completely nonsense he’d heard?  However, Xenia’s face, as similar to their father’s as a that of a lass could be to a middle-aged gentlehobbit, was utterly stupefied. Her gold-flecked eyes were the size of saucers and her mouth was hanging open slightly.

 Odo, too, looked astounded, wearing the same expression he had the first time his wooing had been spurned by a lass. That had to mean both had heard what he had. In that case, things did not make any sense.  From what Folco gathered both in history lessons and personal experience listening to his father and fellow Councilhobbits discussing foreign affairs, land’s entire system of government did not suddenly change from the sort where adults put bits of parchment with the names of the leaders they wanted in locked wooden boxes to the sort led by one king in the course of one day.

Their father was the first to break the stunned silence. “Naturally, this means there will be many changes for us. All of us. We in the Council believe, however, that this will be the best thing for Drémeadow. It is no secret that, while we are still quite well off compared to many lands on the continent, things have not run so smoothly as they did ten, twelve, or  fifteen years ago.”

Folco stared blankly at his father. Fifteen years ago, he had not even been a growing baby in the womb.

“What sort of changes?” queried Nora.

His father straightened in the loveseat, taking a sip from the burgundy mug of tea on the side table. Hrothgar frowned at his cup, took a look at his baffled children, then picked up the bell lying near the tea’s coaster and rang it. Their newest servant, a fellow scarcely older than Nora, entered. Halmo, or Hal, was already becoming one of Folco’s favorites. He knew a lot of good jokes and would join him for an archery contest, stone-throwing contest, sparring, or other games where Nora and Jillian would outright refuse, Xenia would  ruefully wave her left hand as a reminder that she still needed to be careful with it even if she needed the brace less than she used to, and Odo would  say that his games were childish or boring. “What do you wish, sir?” Hal asked their father.

“Bring my children whatever drinks they wish,” answered Hrothgar. “My wife wishes for more sugar in her tea.

“Yes, sir,” Hal said, “or do you prefer me calling you Your…”

Hrothgar cut across his servant with a guffaw. “No need until it is officially announced, Hal. You may tell the others that too. Anyway, the drinks.”

Hal gave a small salute and made his rounds through Hrothgar and Arabella’s children, then headed off towards the kitchen. Xenia suddenly let out a small giggle. “You two are playing a trick, aren’t you?” she said slowly. She beamed. “You nearly had me, for a few seconds I actually believed you! Now what’s the real reason you sent for me to come back from Milo and Merla’s? And Odo and Folco from school for that matter?”

 Folco stroked his chin. That the conversation was a joke was a much more likely scenario than his father suddenly becoming the king of Drémeadow, but this was an extremely elaborate one in that case. He could not imagine them going to the level of bringing him and Odo home early. Besides, neither of his parents had much of a sense of humor.

Hrothgar cocked an eyebrow at his daughter. Xenia’s grin faded. “We are not joking,” he said sharply, “though I suppose I can understand why you might think that. In case you did not notice, Hal was asking me whether to call me Your Majesty since that is how kings are addressed.”

Xenia leaned back into the sofa. “Well,” she said, “he might have been on the joke.” She lifted her arms slightly, palms up. “But carry on.”

Odo piped up, “So… if you’re going to be called Your Majesty after the… change? Conversion? What are you lot calling it?”

“We Councilhobbits will be calling it the Reorganization, though who knows what our countryhobbits will be calling it,” responded his father.

“Right,” said Odo. “So after the Reorganization, does this mean people will be calling me and them Your Highness?”

“That is correct. Or their prince- or princess, if it’s one of the lasses. By the way,” Hrothgar ‘s eyes swept along the row of his sons and daughters, “you will all need to watch how you speak now. ‘My siblings and I’ is the correct phrase. You may be seventeen, Odo, but people will expect you to speak with proper language. No colloquialisms. No vulgarity. No slang. Those are for commoners, not for royalty. I have never heard the royal families of Cancalia, Rheeding, Baur or anywhere else using informal language, so we ought not to either, lest they assume us to lack intellect.”

Folco did not like the sound of this. It was bad enough that he had to mind his grammar when writing, and upper school seemed to relish compelling students to run through ink and parchment like food. Now he had to pay attention to semantics when having a conversation?

Xenia challenged, “Does that honestly matter? I use colloquialisms and vulgarity all the time and I graduated top of my class, how I talk doesn’t mean I lack brains! Everyone knows I’m intelligent, they think that’s the only part of who I am!” Folco groaned inwardly.

Their father glowered at her. He did not seem particularly enthralled about Xenia reminding him of her proclivity for questionable language.“You will do as I say,” he barked stridently. “Besides, your cleverness hardly helped at your university now, did it? Sit up straight, Folco!”

Folco had slumped down in his seat the instant his father had brought up what happened at Hamilton University in Rheeding. He straightened, mumbling “sorry, Father…” and casting  a fearful glance at his sister. Predictably, Xenia’s face was puce with wrath. However, she said nothing.

“Now then. I expect all of you have many questions, so your mother and I shall do our best to answer them all,” said Hrothgar. “As established, the Council’s voted to reorganize Drémeadow into a monarchy. I was the one voted to become the monarch. I am sure you’ve all noticed that I have not been home much at all in the past fortnight. I was even out several nights.” That was certainly true. Folco’s father had canceled several sets of plans with him, although that was hardly an unusual occurrence. The worst had been when his father was supposed to help him with an exceptionally difficult paper on the niceties of intracontinental trade only to have a Council session run so late that he had stayed in an inn rather than return home in the dead of night.  

“Like when you missed my birthday, for instance?” Odo pointed out.

Their father cringed. “Well, I took everyone out for a second celebration when I got back that weekend, did I not?” A doubtful look came onto the adolescent’s face. “Anyhow. Now that we’ve straightened out- no,  discussed how people will address us and our need to use proper language, you have my leave to ask your queries one at a time.”

Xenia was the first to action. “What made the Council decide to do this?”

Hrothgar answered, “Well, as you already know, Drémeadow has been struggling again. One of the hobbits in the open Council session the other day put forth the idea of a monarchy. I did not say anything then because a decision had not been made, and I certainly had not been aware that I would ultimately be the one chosen to rule the land. At first, there was a great many skeptics- after all, that would be a tremendous change, and we all know our kind are not fond of sudden change- but we decided to put the notion to deliberation.  Ultimately, more than half of us were persuaded. The rest did not want to give up running Drémeadow, but those will still serve as advisors to me, as well as others on the Council who choose to do so." Folco frowned to himself, confused. He did not dare ask aloud, he knew how his father could get when the wrong buttons were pushed with questions and he did not want to make him angry, but how had the other Counchilhobbits been persuaded to relinquish having an equal level with his father?

Nora frowned, running a hand through thick curls. "What about everyone else? What do you suppose will happen when the announcement is made?"

"Yeah, good question!" Xenia chimed in. "Do you lot honestly believe people will just accept this? Not being able to choose who gets to run Drémeadow anymore?"

"You're forgetting, Xenia, that they've been choosing the same hobbits over and over for a very long time. They're more comfortable with the ones in charge remaining the same, or they would choose someone else. Besides, many who could run don't want to do it themselves. They'd rather be with their families than constantly have to be away for days at a time." Folco pursed his lips, slightly stung. It was bad enough rarely being able to find his father to ask about things he'd be too embarrassed to ask his mother without having his father as good as tell them all he'd rather be away! "Think about it. I've been elected over and over for so long that only Nora is old enough to remember when I first started. Jillian, Odo and Folco weren't even alive yet."

"I know that, but won't they be angry not being able to decide if they actually do  want the same people?" countered Xenia.

"Perhaps at first. We have discussed the possibility. They'll accept it eventually, once they see things are finally getting done. Or have you not been paying attention to everything going on the past eight years?"

"Oh, you mean them being angry because the Council's been too busy bickering among themselves to solve anything? 

"Yet they still reelected most of the same hobbits, despite the bickering," snapped their father. "Or perhaps you've, but there were only two running against the 2999 crowd in 3004! Nobody else wanted to deal with what happened in the southeast! Anyhow, with a group of decision-makers, there will be bickering. If it's just one, there will not. They'll eventually figure that out once things move in the right direction. You'll see. And meanwhile, we'll just have to deal with the fallout."

“Does Jillian know?” asked Odo. Folco’s ears perked up. That was a good question as Jill was abroad. Of course she would not know. It was not as though they could magically tell her from a several days’ ride away, hobbits were no spellcasters. Would it simply be a giant welcome-home surprise?

  “Not yet,” their mother replied. “Your father is sending a messenger to Baur to inform her. He is also asking her to make arrangements to come home as soon as possible, even if it means taking her examinations early. We will send a group to ensure her safe return.”

 “So let me get this straight,” Xenia said tersely, “You expect Jillers to drop everything she has going on after you slam her with a not-so-small bit of news? How is she to study knowing her life just got turned upside down? You expect her to just come home early?”

Hrothgar gave his daughter a stern look. “It would not be the first time one of my children came back early from university this term, now, would it?” Folco cringed at the second mention of the fiasco at his sister’s former school.

Xenia’s face went an ominous shade of scarlet. She opened her mouth as though to say something, but then closed it and got to her feet.

“Sit down, Xenia!” Xenia ignored their father, placing her teacup on the saucer rather harder than was necessary. “I said, sit down. SIT.”

            She sat in acquiescence, looking daggers at her father. “And how is that relevant?”

            “Were you in Rheeding and about to take your end-of-term exams, as you ought to be,  we would be doing the same for you.” Hrothgar wrung his hands together.

Folco could stand to hear no more. “What happens with the other Councilhobbits, then?” he interjected.

“That is yet to be decided.”

Nora asked, “What exactly does this mean for us? Our family? Will we still live here?” She gesticulated around the room, including the floor and ceiling in the sweep of her hand.

Odo chimed in “I thought kings have castles or palaces and not just big houses like this?”

Drémeadow’s king-to-be chortled. “Indeed. One would likely be built, and we would move to wherever it is.”

Folco felt his stomach drop. “Move?” he echoed. “What about school?”

“We will cross that bridge when we come to it- there is the possibility you may not go to  school anymore.”

Odo’s eyes rounded. “Really? You mean no more lectures, recitations, reading textbooks and writing rolls of parchment about what we read?”

A smile flitted across Arabella’s thin face. “Not exactly. If we decide to withdraw you, you would be tutored.

“I’d rather go to school with my friends!” Folco burst out. Odo nodded his accord. 

“As I said,” Hrothgar repeated, “we will cross that bridge when we come to it. You will finish this year, anyhow.” Folco closed his eyes unhappily. What would he do if he were forever kept at home? Would his father at least be home for now? Would this be just a case of dealing with a mother who was forever scolding him while his father seldom showed his face and shut himself away doing work when actually home, only with a fancier title?

~*~*~

            After what felt like an eternity of conversation that left Folco more overwhelmed than ever, their mother, now Queen Arabella, released them, saying that she and their father had a lot of work to do. Folco stood up to follow the others out, his mind abuzz. If they were moving, did this mean he would be changing schools? Would he be pulled from school altogether? Who would he play games with on days off? Would he be taken  seriously by the royalty of other places, or would they act as though the Foxtrots were somehow below them because technically, none of them had been born into it? He remembered hearing about the difficulties of the Parquays when the land had split asunder in bloody civil war that ended with the hitherto unified land becoming East and West Parquay. Though Drémeadow was almost never directly involved in war and had not seen hobbits fighting in battle for decades, its sudden change in internal structure might raise eyebrows as even their father himself had said.

“What do you lot make of all this?” Folco queried the instant the four were out of earshot.  Nora shook her head, quickening her pace and beckoning for the others to do likewise.

“What are our opinions on this matter, you mean. Do not forget, Father said we are to speak properly.” Folco rolled his eyes in reply. Nora was choosing now to act bossy? She might be literally twice his age, but that did not mean she could suddenly pretend she was in any place to tell him what to do.  

Much to his chagrin, Nora did not take the hint. Instead, she said, “you ought not to roll your eyes like that, either.”

“You’re not Mother,” snapped Folco.

“Come off it, you two” Xenia sighed.  “So, what do we all think about this?

“Wait.” Nora led her three younger siblings in the direction of the back of their home where the stairs leading up to their bedrooms were located. As they passed the door to the kitchen, Nora stopped suddenly and did an about-face, nearly colliding with Odo. “My apologies, Brother” she said before pulling the door open and requesting that scones and tea be brought to her bedroom. There was a muffled response that caused Nora to nod with satisfaction. “Thank you. Folco grinned. The sense of hunger had been beginning to rise in his stomach, though he’d said nothing because he had wanted to learn as much as he could from their parents. Distractions like asking for a snack would have been counter-productive.

When they finally reached Nora’s room, she drew the curtains open and sat down on her four-poster bed, wide enough for three adult hobbits to comfortably sleep. Xenia joined her on the bed and Odo took one of her chairs while Folco sprawled out on the blue silk rug covering the floor space between her bed and her wardrobe, taking care that he did not end up within smelling distance of his sister’s chamber pot. Even though the servants took care to empty them frequently, an odor tended to linger in the area.

“Now can we talk about what Mother and Father told us?”  asked Odo.

“That was my intent,” said Nora. “I thought we ought to speak in a more private place than downstairs where servants are constantly walking past us.”

As though on cue, there was a knock on the door. “Enter!” Nora called. The succulent aroma of scones began to fill the room as Daria Littleflower entered with a tray containing four steaming cups, sugar and fresh milk. She placed it on Nora’s trunk, then asked “do you need anything else?” A second later, she added uncertainly “Your Highnesses?” Folco blinked. It felt strange to be called that. It would not happen often until the official announcement was made and town criers passed on the news all over Drémeadow, but being called that behind closed doors by someone who had worked for his family since Folco was barely old enough for Lower School was outright peculiar.

Silence reigned until Nora said, “No, thank you, Daria. Close the door behind you.” Daria tilted her head at the four before exiting the room. When the door clicked closed, she said, “Well… that was… different.”

“Do you suppose we’re allowed to use each other’s names?” Odo asked tentatively. “I know other lands have strange rules, do you suppose we shall too?”

“I suppose we’ll be making the rules,” speculated Xenia, “or Father will anyway, so maybe there won’t be anything strange like us having to call each other something not our names. Although,” she added in afterthought, “Father is really one for tradition so I wouldn’t put it past him to just do what other places do.”

 Folco did not want to think about having to remember to call his siblings anything other than their given names or nicknames. “Can we eat and drink those? I’m hungry.” The others got up to crowd around the scones. To his delight, three were huckleberry, his favorite. Unfortunately, this opinion was shared by Nora, who took two. He made a face.

“I know you’ll eat them all if I don’t take these now,” said Nora.

“But I’m a growing lad! I need to eat more than you!” he protested.

“There’s plenty of other flavors,” she countered.

“Come off it, you know Huckleberry’s my favorite…”

After it was settled that Nora and Folco would split one of the three and Xenia and Odo had helped themselves to their scones, the contemplative conversation resumed.  Predictably, Odo was excited at having a valid excuse to swagger around the Hardscrabble Upper School. “Suppose this means I can do whatever I want now and Old Marvi won’t be able to say a thing?”

Nora scoffed, “please. If anything, Headmaster Marvitop will be calling you Your Highness right before ordering you  to wash all the chalkboards and making you straighten the abacus shelves.”

Odo laughed. “He can’t make me.”

“And what will you do if Mother or Father decides they prefer you listen to set a good example? It’s not like you got away with anything with Father as a Councilhobbit.”

“You know…”  Xenia chimed in, “I can think of one good thing about all this.”

Forgetting the discussion of how things would be at school, Odo said, “what?”

“This means we no longer have to listen to a bunch of so-called adults… well, adult adults, not adults my age or Nora’s… squabbling like L1 children about how to run Drémeadow." Folco smirked at the comparison of older adults to five-year-olds in their first of seven years in lower school. "Or whose fault it is when things go wrong. Meanwhile not actually doing anything to help matters because they’re too busy quarreling.” 

Author's Note

Please let me know of anyplace where you see room for improvement! Constructive criticism is welcome. Also, there is a chapter three, though for some reason the "next chapter" link is missing. You can get to that chapter, "Whirlwind Within" via the chapters list above the About the Author box

Reviews

[Mila]

Loved how you went about this. As someone who isn't particularly fond of change, I could feel the discomfort from the others about them becoming royals. I mean, I wouldn't mind, but I would be like "say what now?" in the beginning and be all defiant and stuff. Even at 20, but age is just a number, right? ;)
Well done! :D

-Mila

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Haha, 20, to this Folco at 13 you sound ancient =P And yeah, there's definitely lots of shock, confusion and uncertainty there.

[NoelHC]

Setting the scene for changes to come handled well here

Comments:

and not the completely nonsense he’d heard? (drop the ly)

foreign affairs, (the) land’s entire

squabbling like L1(?? little??) children

[Tegon Maus]

A couple of things... first pick a font that's easier to read. Format it in word and if not double space at least 1.5 with no space between paragraphs.
I would not put this description here… it is awkward and drops the reader from the story trying to make it fit.
Nora frowned, running a hand through her thick curls (the same shade of golden-brown as Folco's and their mother's). "What about everyone else? What do you suppose will happen when the announcement is made?"
This chapter is a good start for conflict take advantage of it.

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Thanks for the suggestion. Looking at it now, you're right about the parenthetical bit.

[Gre7g Luterman]

It's written well, but I'm baffled why the council would vote to name a king. They're essentially voting themselves out of power. No one opts out of power, do they? And what of the public? Wouldn't the council expect outrage and revolt at the announcement? They're basically saying that the public no longer gets to choose their representation.

Also, you dropped a quote after "Thank you.

And what does "as though they were L1 children" mean?

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Good points. Dremeadow's definitely got its reasons; I'll definitely be addressing them in later chapters. Also, you're correct about opposition. I'm.planning to address that also, though I could edit in one of Folco's older siblings commenting about that and thus acknowledge it. It is strange they agreed so easily though, isn't it? Glad you saw that (=

On the L1 thing, will rewrite to make it more comprehensible (basically, 5 year olds in first year seeing inside of a schoolhouse)

[Gre7g Luterman]

I definitely recommend that you have one of the characters at least THINK it. Otherwise you're going to have readers like me going BUT BUT BUT, and some of them will stop reading before they get to an explanation. Tell us that YOU have considered these things.

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Aye aye! Folco might be a little young to think of that, but one of his twenty-something sisters might!

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Aaand did some revision. *salute*

[JR Darewood]

I love the shift you're dealing with here "Her mother, now Queen Arabella" and the kids coming to terms with their new social position. Fun read.

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Thanks so much for the review! Hope you enjoyed chapters 3 and 4 also! (=

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Thanks so much for the review! Hope you enjoyed chapters 3 and 4 also! (=

[Jennie Baron]

I'm still finding the whole story line most entertaining, Cher. I was thinking of the point in the "Star Wars" saga where the Empire takes over from the elected Senate, not with a bang but a whimper. (Now I'll have to go back and watch that movie.) Exceedingly well done.

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Thanks so much! Yeah, there was definitely a lot leading up to this drastic change, and there will be plenty more drama coming out of this (not to mention what ends up happening five years later as shown in the story "Fallen Ones"!) I am hoping to at times reflect on all the things going wrong that led to the Council becoming defunct, starting with the main event leading to the Council's decline.

[jjwilbourne]

Another great chapter!
This can lead the story in so many directions.
I have only a few suggestions.
It seems a little under explained about the council's reasoning to switch to a monarchy. That's a super big change that could cause a ton of civil unrest and complications. You may have plans for this or you may explain it later. But at this point it feels a bit strange.
When Falco's father gives a "cold look" I'd recommend using a different phrase. I don't know his personality well but it Doesn't feel fatherly.
The dialog: “You’re not one of our parents,” feels a bit unnatural for someone to say. A slight rephrasing would make it more realistic to how someone would talk.
That's pretty much it.
Stoked to read the next part!

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Thanks for the review! Yeah, I left it a bit underexplained on purpose because you're right on both counts. It's actually meant to sound a little strange. [= It's true for definite that there could be some civil unrest and a plethora of complications that Folco cannot possibly foresee just yet, and there will definitely be some explanations later too. =D

I tried using the word "stern." Hrothgar Foxtrot can definitely be a distant parent, but stern definitely also describes the look on his face.

Went with "You're not mother" for Folco's retort to his older sister being what he thinks annoyingly bossy.l

Thanks again for your reviews so far!

[Amanda J Hopwood]

I really did feel like I was getting this from a very young mans position. Well done!! I envy you of the world you are creating. I have tried creating my own world and keep running into blocks. It helps to read others who are doing it. I also like the fact that you are starting the beginning of this book from where they first become royalty. Makes me feel like they will remember to remain humble. Many lessons to be learned in the future for the children. Though I do think Nora is a little too young for her age. Other than I like what you have done with the characters. Looking forward to more!!

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Thank you so much! You're absolutely right; those Foxtrots are in for quite the wild ride to say the very least! I'm glad the ring of immaturity for Nora showed through; she is the oldest and thinks herself extremely grown-up, but is very much a sheltered and privileged kid and is thus slightly immature and naive for the age of 26. It hardly helps that my rendition of hobbits (until I devise my own name for the small folk) has them not wholly rushing kids to grow up- they're legally adults at 20 but aren't rushed into things such as childbirth and having kids- or if parents are wealthy, as the Foxtrots' are, even working- until their thirties. As I intend to ultimately explain throughout my writing, the 20s are for exploring and enjoying being grown up while still young.

But yeah. I definitely hope to create a very distinct personality for Folco and his older siblings, not to mention their parents.

[Prritiy]

I am liking it, the way you have depicted how the changes and such a big revelation brings about the reactions in individuals according to their age and personality... and how all of sudden the realization of being grand brings the realization of power and again the realization how they might miss the small things... wonderfully described.


best wishes

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Thank you! I was hoping to illustrate the wide range of personalities of the four Foxtrot kids currently present- and Jillian has her own distinct personality as well. It's also really good to hear I portrayed the various ages accurately, from thirteen through the mid-twenties.

[Prritiy]

you are welcome :)

[A.M. Victoria (LostWrit..]

Hi, I told you I'd check out your books, and I'm really glad I did! I love the way you write; they are very detailed with great vocabulary. The way you painted the scenes was particularly impressive. Am I right in thinking that your books are of the same series, though they each focus specifically on a certain character?

The only thing I noticed that can be improved is that there is a small font change here:

“So let me get this straight,” Xenia said tersely, “You expect Jillers to drop everything she has going on after you slam her with a not-so-small bit of news? How is she to study knowing her life just got turned upside down? You expect her to just come home early?”

Otherwise, great job! I'll definitely be reading more of your writings.

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Awww, I really appreciate your keeping your word and going as far as to leave an awesome review like this! This is indeed a series, each focusing specifically on a certain character with occasional chapters from the point of view of another character! This one is obviously Folco Foxtrot at 13, starting in late 3009 (Kiran Mani is absent from this one; the Foxtrots won't meet him for 5 years). Fallen Ones focuses on Kiran Mani, a character from the land Cancalia who is a paladin and constable, and covers January to early March 3015 (Folco starts at 18 and turns 19). Traitor Princess spans from March 3015 to an indeterminate time and is about Folco's older sister Xenia [= You are absolutely right about that. I'm also considering a fourth set 3000-3001, about when Kiran is only 15, a fledgling paladin and attending university (no Foxtrots in that one, though over in Dremeadow Xenia's 14 and Folco's a wee little 4-year-old)

Thanks so much for the heads up about the font change! For some reason, this has been happening with a few stories I paste over from Word here- I'll have to look into what makes that happen so the font remains consisting.

Looking forward to hearing more from you!