**_-I’m not very sure about this one. I did a little challenge with Quill To Page where we gave each other characters and I struggled, to be fair. I think it’s a bit far-fetched, but I enjoyed writing it. Some feedback would be much appreciated, thank you!-_**

Duke Rook strode down the village streets, bowing his head to occasional passers-by. It was rather peaceful; the sky was a beautiful azure colour, the birds chirped merrily and the heavenly aroma from the bakery filled his nostrils.

He scanned the village. Tudor style houses lined the streets, most of which had steam puffing from the chimneys; the path was cobbled, causing the wheels of carts to clatter in an almost satisfying way; at the end of the street was a towering castle, with turrets that jabbed at the sky and flags that screamed superiority.

Rook checked his watch. He had plenty of time to get there.

His cousin would be crowned today, the new king of this kingdom. Rook couldnt say he was jealous, sounded like bloody hard work to him.

A happy, melodic hum sounded from behind. Rook glanced back to be face to face with the castle’s jester, Fletcher, who was skipping cheerily between the buildings.

“Good morning, Sire!” Fletch said in a sing-song voice, “How are you doing on the fantabulous day?”

Rook sighed, “Good morning, Fletcher. I was doing rather well.”

“Was? Aww, dont tell me I ruined your morning!” Fletch pouted.

Rook smirked at the pout, “Anyone ever told you that you’re cute when you pout?”

Fletch grinned. “Nope, but I’m honoured to hear that from you, sir.”

His skipping did not cease, the rhythmic jingling from the bells on his boots and hat echoing in Rook’s ears. The jester was rather short, slim, but rather handsome, surprisingly. He wore a red and blue jester’s outfit and always had the classic eye makeup, which somehow only made him even more attractive.

“Are you going to mill about me all day, Fletcher?” Rook said, looking down at the Jester.

“Mhm!” Fletch cooed, “You’re stuck with me, sir!”

A chuckle escaped Rook’s lips and he ran a hand through his golden locks, “You’re insufferable.”

“I take pride in that.”

They both continued down the street when there was a sudden yell of, “Stop! Thief!”

Rook’s head whipped around to see a man dressed in black sprinting towards them, a sack hurled over his shoulder. Promptly, Rook jumped into action.

“S-sir?” Fletch’s eyes widened in surprise and slight fear, “What on Earth are you doing?”

Rook didn’t respond, only ran towards the thief, grabbing hold of his jumper and pulling him back.

“Stop right there.”

The thief turned to look at the Duke and sneered, “Why, if it isn’t the Duke.”

“Glad you’re not as dim witted as you seem, thief.” Rook made an attempt to reach for the sack but the thief pulled back.

“And you think that you can stop me. You don’t even know what’s in this bag. It could just be grass for all you know.” He spat.

“You’re trying to hard if it was just grass.” Rook retorted, kicking the thief in the stomach, then using the momentary falter in the thief’s guard to grab the bag, ripping it from the other man’s grip. Rook smirked victoriously.

The thief growled in annoyance, looking around for some way to escape.

Rook swiftly grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it behind his back, restraining him, whilst holding the bag in his other hand.

“Clever duke…” the thief said, “but not clever enough.” Then, he drew a gun and aimed it towards Fletcher. The jester’s eyes widen in absolute terror and he raised his hands, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

“P-please dont hurt me…” Fletch whimpered.

Rook’s brow furrowed, “You bastard. You’re not actually gonna shoot.”

“How can you be so sure?” The thief’s finger moved to the trigger and Fletch sunk into himself more, his eyes swimming with tears now.

“What do you want?” Rook demanded, anger flaring in him.

“Give me back the sack.”

“Hell n—“ the gun clicked, “ok, fine!”

Rook threw the bag into the thief’s face, releasing him. “Now get that damn gun away from him.”

The thief sheathed his gun, then turned and fled.

Fletch ran to Rook and hugged him tightly, clinging to his shirt. Rook tensed, but soon relaxed and patted the smaller man on the back.

“It’s ok, you’re safe now.”

“S-sorry, sir, I was just… so scared…” Fletcher mumbled against the Duke’s chest.

“Don’t be. It’s alright. All that matters is that you’re ok.”

Fletch raised his gaze to meet Rook’s, “Thank you, sir.”

“Just call me Rook.”

“Rook…” Fletch muttered then his face broke into a smile, “You got it, Rook.”

After a few minutes of simply holding Fletch in his arms, Rook finally pulled away, looking fondly at the Jester. “Alright, enough of this sentimental crap, we have a coronation to attend to.”

Fletch grinned and gave a small, charming wink, “You dont have to tell me twice, boss.”