Title: Anywhere But Here
Fandom: Original Fic
Characters: OMC/OMC
Rating: G
Word Length: 1060
Written for the fan_flash works prompt: AMNESTY: Anywhere But Here
Summary: Prince Penfold had always wanted an adventure.
AN: Wing!Fic with a twist.



Five Summers Old
Prince Penfold Underhill was sitting in his room staring out his window. The sun was shining and a breeze carried the scent of the royal rose garden. Pen's room was small and circlular, the floors were wooden and the walls were made of rough stone. It was not the kind of room one would expect a prince to live in, but Penn enjoyed the view from his window.

The village bustled below him. Villagers were going about their daily activities. Some were cooking in their homes, the smoke from the cooking fires rose above the village and some were selling their wares, their voices were a din. Penn watched as villagers flew around the village, but what he was really waiting for were the air dancers. They practiced in a field on the edge of the village and on a clear day Penn could almost make them out. Watching the small dots that were people dip and drive made Penn long for two things. One was to leave the castle and have an adventure and two was for wings of his own, but no matter how hard he wished, his shoulder blades remained smooth.

Six Summers Old
Penn woke up in his room. The room as dark, not even the moon and stars were out. He was covered in sweat and shaking. The dream of the three headed monster was still fresh in his mind. He called out for his mother and like the sun coming out from behind a cloud she appeared holding a candle. She was dressed in a simple cotton dress and her pink hair was down and fell past her shoulders.

She sat the candle on the table by Penn's bed. Sitting down on the bed she pulled him into her arms and he snuggled into her side. The sweet smell of flowers was strong and soothing. As the nightmare faded like morning dew, a question gnawed at Penn's mind.

'Mother? Why don't we have wings?'

Mother ran her fingers through Penn's pink hair. 'Because it makes us special.'

As Penn closed his eyes and thought about flying he didn't feel all that special. He certainly didn't feel special when the village children called him turtle behind his back. Turtles didn't have wings either.

Ten Summers Old
Penn looked down at the book he had to memorize. Why he had to memorize what flags looked like, he would never know. He was in the royal library. The walls were covered with shelves filled with books and the scent of dust made his nose itch. As he looked down at the writing before him wanted to leave and go on a grand adventure, but even at a young age his obligations and duties were like a weight around his neck holding him firmly in place. He knew that leaving would make his mother sad and he never wanted that to happen.

Eleven Summers Old
Penn sat in the white throne room and he thought his kingly robes were heavy and itchy. A weight and itch that never quite went away. His father had died unexpectedly and Penn had become king. Penn would think about his father sometimes and he didn't know how he felt about his father. He didn't miss his father because he bearly knew his him

Twelve Summers Old

Penn was in his room. In his hand was a smooth river stone. Penn sat the stone on his window still, looked at and smiled. Willow had given it to him.

Willow was the son of the royal wood bringer. His wings were was brown as tree bark, his hair was long and black. Sometimes after his work was done, Willow would play with Pen or tell him a funny joke.

Penn laid on his bed and heard his door open. The royal adviser walked into to the room. He was an ancient man who always smelled of dust and wore black robes. As his eyes landed on Penn's window sill and he grimmiced. Penn's adviser frowned upon his friendship with Willow (his words as sharp as any knife left little doubt) but Penn payed him no mind. He was the king after all, even if it was his mother who had all the power.

Thirteen Summers Old
Penn was riding his horse Storm. Willow was flying ahead of them. No matter how fast Storm ran Willow always flew faster. They came to a hill just outside of the village and Willow laid down on the grass. Penn jumped off Storm and joined his friend. Penn and Willow would spent hours just staring up at the clouds making up stories for the images they saw in the sky. Today however Willow was more quite than usual.

'Is something the matter?' Penn asked.

'It's nothing... It's just. I've been thinking about kissing you. Would that be alright.

Penn thought about it. Willow was friend but he had also thought about kiss him, especially when Willow was laughing and his eyes were shining.

'You can kiss me.'

Willow grinned and leaned forward. Their lips met and the kiss was awkward, but Penn still hummed into Willow's mouth. After they broke the kiss they were both panting. Their second kiss was a little bit less awkward, but Penn gently grabbed Willow's wings and revelled in the feeling of feathers under his fingers.

'What brought that on?'

Willow shrugged. 'I just wanted to do it.'

'Oh. Do you want to kiss again?'

'Sure.

Willow and Penn kissed until the sun was high in the sky.

Sixteen Summers Old
Penn was in the stable brushing Goldie. Penn brushed all the horses, but he always took extra care with Goldie, she was old and blind in one eye and her hair was grey. Sometimes he would bring her an apple.

Penn heard familiar footsteps and didn't turn around. Willow came up to Penn and put his arms around Pen, letting his hands settle on Pen stomach. Leaning against Willow, Pen dropped his brush and put his hands on top of Willows. Willow smelled of sweat and pine sap. Penn closed his eyes and sighed.

Sometimes he wanted to be anywhere but the castle and sometimes there was no place he wanted to be. He still wanted an adventure though. Maybe some day.