Princes Chapter One

Aren coughed, pulling in a raspy breath as he shuffled through the snow, his feet near-frozen within his thin leather shoes. He pulled his hat down tighter over his black rabbit ears to shield them from the freezing wind, shivering uncontrollably. He looked up, hoping to see the town, a cottage, shelter, anything. Anything to save him from the cold. To his despair, only a thick curtain of white was to be seen. His shuffling slowed, the feeling fading away from his legs. He dropped to one knee, his shivering calming as the blood flooded his chest cavity in a fleeting attempt to keep him alive. His heart thumped slowly in his chest. His fingers trembled. His eyelids fluttered. His other knee dropped to the snow, the very strength within him ebbing away into the cold.
“H-Help…” he weakly called into the air, falling to the ground. His hat dropped off of his head, his ears flopping out into the snow. As his eyelids shut, he could hear the crunch of horse hooves against the snow.
“Aren…”a voice echoed somewhere beyond the darkness, beckoning him forth from his slumber. He slowly opened his eyes, his body aching too much for him to move. His first sight was a handsome figure lit by a steady orange firelight.
“Can you hear me?” the figure asked in a soft English accent, moving closer to him. He could smell vanilla and the faint lingering scent of chocolate on the stranger, as though he emitted it.
“Wha… where am I?…” he whispered faintly.
“You’re in my room, in the royal castle. I was out on a sojourn and I saw you there in the snow… you looked frightfully thin and near frozen to death, I was so frightened you’d die on me!” he says, turning his head dramatically towards the flames. In this new lighting, Aren could see the gentle curve of his face and his rounded cat ears, the soft yet strong femininity of it matching his voice. His skin was pale, almost unnaturally so..
“…*ahem* Anyway, I decided to bring you home and provide you with some much-needed nourishment. I really hope you don’t mind.” he said with a little smile.
“Oh… t-thank you, uh…”
“Thomas. My name is Thomas Shibou. I’m the prince.”
“P-Prince?…” Aren weakly muttered in disbelief, slowly trying to sit up. Thomas leaned forward and unrolled the warm and heavy sheets from his chest, giving him room to sit up.
“Please, take it slow. You were stick-thin and frozen solid just a week ago.” Thomas spoke, holding his arm. Aren felt his fingers press into his flesh, silk pajama fabric offering no resistance. It felt odd, unfamiliar, like he wasn’t himself.
“W-Week?… W-What, why-” he started, his voice fading to nothing as he pushed away the rest of the blankets from his abdomen. He stopped and stared at the silk-covered hill of fat that now served as his midsection, replacing the familiar ribcage and hollow stomach he was used to.
“Y-You responded well to the nourishment. You’re twice as healthy now, I promise!” he said with a sheepish grin. Aren slowly placed a pudgy palm on his belly, guessing himself to be at least 250, a stark contrast to his usual less-than-100-lb. begger’s body.
“I-I’m…f-f-fat…” he muttered softly, reaching a palm up to his cheek. It felt soft and warm, squishing softly. The natural reaction would be to panic, but the comforting scents and unfamiliar squishy weight like a constant blanket kept him calm. He just sank back against the pillow behind him, feeling his back fat depress gently against the equally soft surface.
“I hope you’re not angry with me…” the prince said softly, his gentle eyes pleading for forgiveness in the dim light.
“N-No… I-It’s just, I’ve never been so… b-big…” he stuttered quietly, his hand still on his belly.
“I bet… you looked like you were starving, what with how you ate all of that pudding. Speaking of which, your next meal is almost ready. If you’d like, I can carry you to the dining hall.”
“O-Oh, umm, n-no thank you, I-I think I can stand…” the chubby rabbit-boy whispered with a little blush, moving his legs to the edge of the bed, an action that seemed a little more difficult than he would have thought.
“Okay… here, I’ll help you up.” He said, offering his hand. Aren slowly reached out to it, holding on as Thomas brought him up to his feet. Aren stood, giving experimental sways forward and backward to find his center of gravity. Moving felt slightly delayed in reaction, hardly enough to cause any problem with moving. He took a small step forward, guided by Thomas’s hand.
“See? Not so hard.” Thomas said with a delighted grin, his freckled cheeks visible now in the new lighting angle. “Let’s go, bunny! Onward to the kitchen!”
“M-My name’s Aren…” he mumbled, stumbling along behind the excited prince.
“Oh, okay.” Thomas said with a little blush, pushing the chamber door open. It creaked as it swung forward, the heavy wooden door ancient in design and sound. He maintained a firm grip on Aren’s soft hand as he led him out into the candle-lit hallway, cinnamon and caramel scent instantly filling his sensitive nose. In the new bright lighting, Aren could see Prince Thomas in all of his glory; he was short, about Aren’s height (5’2”), slender, and had wavy blond hair, topped with two rounded leopard-like ears. He seemed about the same age as well, 18 or so. His long tail flicked behind him, the blond fuzz on it dotted with dark ring patterns.
“It’s just around the corner, come on!” he cheered excitedly, practically dragging the portly bunny behind him. Aren just struggled to keep up, feet patting against the carpeted stone floor. Suddenly, Thomas came to a complete stop, Aren barely catching himself as he stopped with him. His belly bumped his back, but Thomas barely moved.
“Ta-da!” he beamed, arms out in an offertory pose, pointing at a massive oak table covered in every savory treat in Aren’s imagination. Sweet buns topped with extra glaze, thick carrot cakes with extra icing, savory hams… and these were just the things that topped the mountain. Delicacies of every sort were surely buried beneath, just begging to be eaten.
“Wow…” Aren muttered in awe, his grumbling belly agreeing.
“It’s all for us, bunny! Here, I have just the place for you.” Thomas smiled, leading him over to a chair at the head of the table. It was sturdy, the design reminiscent of a cargo ship, the seat extra wide and extra deep, at least three feet of space in every direction. The thick padding provided more than enough cushion for Aren’s bottom, letting him lean comfortably into it.
“How about a nice ham to start?” he offered, pulling a plate to him. Aren nodded and reached forward, taking a little piece in his hands. While he nibbled it rapidly, Thomas dropped in his own, much smaller seat.
“S-So…” Aren swallowed, starting on another chunk of savory meat. “You live here by yourself?”
“Indeed. The home and the kingdom was left to me by my father two th- two, uh, years ago.” he spoke, sipping from the silver chalice on the table.
“Oh. Any servants?” he asked, bringing a plate of carrot cake towards himself.
“Plenty. Hordes of them, pretty much… they hardly ever get in the way, though. Well, except Tarron… but he’s out for the day. You probably won’t even see him while you’re here.”
“Huh… this food is really, really good!” Aren said, biting a thick slice of carrot cake in half, swallowing it down.
“Oh, I’m so glad you think so! I was baking and cooking all day just for you.” He lit up, giving him a happy smile. Aren couldn’t help but smile back, stuffing half the cake into his cheeks.
“Oh, you’ve got something there on your cheek, bunny.” He giggled, pointing to his face. Aren blushed and wiped at his face, his sleeve straining from the motion.
“Is it gone?” he asked, swallowing his mouthful of cake.
“I’m afraid not… here, hold still…”
Thomas reach forward and brushed his warm finger across his soft cheek, wiping away some icing. He then brushed his finger across his lip, placing the icing within licking distance. Aren’s cheeks flushed red as he slowly licked it up, tasting vanilla and cocoa mingling within the buttercream frosting.
“T-Thank you…” he blushed, lowering his head slightly, gulping the icing down. He bashfully reached for another piece, his bottom shirt button popping away under the table. He squeaked and froze, hoping that his host didn’t hear the damage done. Thomas smiled warmly, lifting the cake to his lips.
“Don’t worry, I have dozens of those shirts.” He giggled, pressing the cake into his mouth. Aren’s blush deepened as he swallowed the cake. “Just keep eating and see if you can pop the rest.”
Aren just smiled, his face deep red in a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness.
“Here, try the tart. I baked them with fresh blueberries.”
Just as Thomas pushed the treat past his lips, a cough sounded out from across the room. The two turned to see a teen in punk attire: green hair, lip ring, black sweater with little rips across the front, although the first thing Aren noticed was his full, soft-looking belly that drooped down under his sweater.
“Again, princey boy? Really?” he scoffed, taking a step forward. His boots thudded against the ground, chain clinking at his side.
“Grimm…” Thomas groaned, scooting closer to Aren.
“Don’t “Grimm” me, buster. You know you can’t take souls straight home with you. Get him to processing pronto or I’m telling management.”
“You can’t tell management, they report to me! I’m just feeding my new friend… now go away!”
Aren looked from Grimm to Thomas, looking quite confused.
“What’s going on?…”
Grimm stepped forth, leaning on the table.
“What, he didn’t tell you?… Typical Thomas. Go on, Tommy. Tell him the truth.” He said, taking a bun from the food pile. Thomas turned to Aren, looking nervous.
“W-Well, umm…” he started, taking a deep breath. “I-I’m not really a prince of your kingdom. I rule the Underworld and you’re… well, y-you didn’t…”
“You’re dead, bunnybutt. You froze to death a homeless orphan in a land of fairy tales.” Grimm said matter-of-factly, munching the sweetbun. Aren looked to Thomas, tears welling up in his eyes.
“I-Is that true?…” he sniffed, his eyes glistening. “D-Did I really die?…”
Thomas looked down and nodded.
“You are super dead,” Grimm said, “but lucky for you, it seems Tommy over here has taken a liking to you. If you can bear the weight of his mortal burdens, then you can stay up here and be the spoiled prince’s stuffed rabbit. If not, then you can take the tests and have chance at returning to life-”
“I’ll do it.” Aren interjected, wiping his face. With a deep breath, he regained his composure.
“Hey, let me finish…” Grimm grumbled, eating another bun.
“No. I’ll  bear his burdens… whatever that means.”
“I was going to say you could come back to life. You really want to stay with prince boy?”
“Y-Yeah… I didn’t have anything in life, you said so yourself. A-And Prince Thomas seems really nice…” he blushed, leaning over on his plush butt towards his new friend. Grimm sighed and took a few more sweetrolls in his hand, turning back towards the door.
“Your choice, bunnybutt. You’ll start your tasks tomorrow morning. For now, I have a date with these sweetrolls…” he said, waddling out the doorway.
“Will you really stay?… Oh please say it’s true, we could be such good friends! I could teach you fencing, and swimming, and we could go to the demon carnival…”
“I’ll stay. I-I think I could like it here.” Aren smiled. Thomas reached out and wrapped his arms around him in glee, squeezing his chubby side.
“Thank you, oh thank you Aren! I’ll be the best friend in the whole underworld, I promise! Now, about these tarts…”