A Tale of Two Princes
Title : A Tale of Two Princes
Author : dalehead
Pairing : Orlijah
Rating: PG
Summary: A fairy tale based around Cap O’Rushes.
A/N : For lisabellex who made the icon
A/N 2: Some of the dialogue spoken is not made up by me but is the speech of a well know TV chef. No prizes for guessing who
Once upon a time, many years ago, there was a King. Now the King had three sons, all of them fine, strapping lads, pleasing to the eye and all with the best manners found anywhere in the kingdom.
One fine day, the King woke up with a maggot in his head. He decided he wanted to know how much his three boys loved him. After all, they were his heirs but they were also the fruit of his loins
“Tell me,” he said as breakfast was served. “How much do you love me?” This was addressed to his eldest.
“Yo dude,” Prince Frank pulled his nose out of his cornflakes. “Love ya as much as my guitar…”
As Frank’s guitar invariably had to be surgically removed from his body whenever he was fulfilling his duties, opening a garden centre or presenting an award for bravery, his father was satisfied.
“And you, my boy,” the King turned to his middle son, Viggo.
“Father I love you even more than my seventy six verse poem that every one of our best scholars says is the best poem ever written…” Prince Viggo was convinced he was an unsung genius and had made it his life’s work to ensure he was indeed recognised.
The King was, therefore, satisfied. What a son, to love his old Pater even more than the epic poem that no one had ever managed to stay awake for? Why that was love indeed…
He turned to his youngest son, his Orlando. The apple of his father’s eye because as well as having the sweetest nature, Orlando was the image of his mother, long since laid to rest in the pretty churchyard that had witnessed the Royal Family’s births, marriages and deaths for many, many years.
“Orlando how much do you love me?”
There was a long silence.
“Father …” another pause. “I love you as much as good fresh meat needs salt…”
We must halt our story here for just a moment, else none of this will make sense. It’s important to know Orlando was not just a beautiful boy, he wasn’t just a spoilt boy who cried and mewled when he didn’t get his way. No Orlando was a bit of a geezer prince and he loved, simply loved to cook.
“It’s gotta be simple an’ it’s gotta be tasty…” that was his mantra so really it wasn’t surprising that his analogy referred to something in the catering line. However to get back to the story.
“How dare you … how dare you say such a thing to me? Your father; not just your father but your King, your Lord…” the King, who wasn’t very intelligent, roared. “Pack your bags and get out of my palace and my land, I never want to see you again.
The King was also something of a drama queen.
“But Father … Dad …” Orlando stuttered.
“No, go, go out the door, don’t turn around now, you’re not welcome any more.”
Frank rolled his eyes, he hated disco.
“If I go Father, then I might not come back and see how you like it when …” and for the first time since his mother died, Orlando broke down and wept bitter tears, tears that might have melted the stoniest heart but not the heart of his father. In silence he watched as Orlando picked up his chef’s knives and quietly left home to make his fortune.
~~
In another kingdom, in another palace, a young man, a prince, looked out of his window.
“I’ll know when I meet him, I’ll know and I’ll make him mine,” the young man looked up to the stars twinkling in the darkness of the sky. “I hope I meet him soon…” he sighed, closing the window and wandering downstairs to the kitchen where he loved to be allowed to sit and talk to the cook who was a particular friend of his.
“It’s gotta be simple and it’s gotta be tasty,” there was a new member of staff, he was supposed to be the kitchen porter but this boy was something quite different; he never hesitated to poke his nose in where it wasn’t wanted but the staff seemed quite happy to listen.
“Perhaps that explains why my luncheon was so good,” he commented to the cook.
“Oh yes Sir,” cook never referred to the Prince by his name unless they were alone. “He suggested cooking the salmon on a bed of vegetables and he’s right, it works perfectly…”
Prince Elijah turned to gaze at Orlando. He was a comely man and there was something about him that made Elijah’s tummy do funny somersault things. Realising it was rude to stare, Elijah turned back to the cook. Unlike many Royal Families, Elijah had been brought up to treat everyone the same, whatever their rank.
~~
I expect you’re wondering how our Orlando, himself the son of a king, happened upon this place? Well, he left his own home and ventured north where no one would know him. He had determined to make his name as a chef most extraordinary and to his surprise he was thoroughly enjoying himself. Although … he did wish he could make up the menus himself.
In January, everyone begun to gear up for Prince Elijah’s birthday. There was to be a ball; a ball that would last three nights and for which Orlando was cooking up a storm.
“For supper we will give them Fish Pie, not just any fish pie, but mine! It’s pukka mate, I’m telling you…” speaking at great speed whilst chopping onions at an even greater speed. Sometimes Orlando got very carried away, not just with his cooking but with everything. He was finding himself gradually taking on more cooking duties as the extent of his talents became clear.
The first night of the ball was fabulous.
Orlando had not been invited of course, but he had noticed the young Elijah that time in the kitchen for there was something about the guy. His big eyes, his pale skin, the way he looked as if he were looking beyond the outer shell of a person and could see deep, deep inside them.
The lack of invitation wasn’t going to stop Orlando though. He had brought three of his favourite suits with him. One was Amandi, one was Prado and the other was Rick Brown. They were brand new and he hadn’t been able to bear the thought of someone else taking them and wearing them. It took him very little time to dress in his Prado togs, don a mask and head down to the ball.
One would not need to be Einstein to guess that Orlando and Elijah met and hit it off immediately. Indeed it was almost love at first sight. They found so much in common that the evening sped by until it was the early hours of the morning and Orlando was horribly aware he would have to be at work prepping the banana pancakes.
“Good night sweet Prince…” he murmured and made his escape.
Well, you can only imagine the furore that followed. Their own Prince Elijah had spent the whole evening with one man; furthermore, the mystery man had obviously been smitten too and maybe their dear Prince was going to get married…
The King was also delighted. He wanted nothing more than for his son to be happy. If Elijah wanted to spend the rest of his days with the slim, dark haired youth of last night, he’d be the first to wish them well.
The day crawled by, culminating in Orlando being sent to bed. He looked a wreck.
“I’m all up to date with the risotto so if you get up to make the salmon and scrambled eggs for their breakfasts, you can get an early night, dear me lad, you look like a washed out dishcloth….” The cook was a kindly soul who had no use for staff drooping with tiredness.
And so it was that when the rest of the staff who weren’t on duty had retired, Orlando, now dressed in his Rick Brown threads, slipped down the backstairs and joined the ball.
Elijah was delighted.
~~
“Don’t go…”
“Lij, sweetheart, I have to, I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise, but I really, really have to go now…”
“But…”
“Babe, I’m sorry,” Orlando was terrified someone would realise who he was, they were too near the kitchen but luck was on his side. Another guest, an old friend of Elijah’s spotted him.
“Darling, darling, how simply splendid to see you…”
“Ian…” Elijah only turned away for a moment but when he looked back, the mysterious man had left.
“And I didn’t even get his name…” sighing Elijah turned back to Ian and prayed that the dark eyed beauty would turn up again tomorrow for the final night of his birthday celebration.
The next day speculation had reached frenzied proportions. Everyone from the palace and throughout the kingdom was wondering what would happen next.
Of course nothing in life is ever as one imagines it’s going to be. So it was that Orlando entered the ballroom on the final evening, his Amandi suit looking like it’d been made for him - which of course it had - drawing every man and woman’s gaze towards him. He didn’t look at them though. He only had eyes for Elijah…
“This time you have to stay, you have to give me your address, tell me your name,” Elijah had just kissed Orlando into a state of near collapse. They stared at each other.
“M not going anywhere, I’m not bloody Cinderella…” Orlando said fondly.
But Elijah wasn’t taking any chances; he took the gold ring he always wore out off his finger and gave it to Orlando. “There, take this, it was my mother’s, she died years ago.”
“Mine did too,” Orlando replied softly and when Elijah turned to ask him what had happened, he found he was alone…
~~
After that, things were not so good. For Elijah took to his bed. He still didn’t know what the handsome stranger’s name, he’d given away his dear mother’s ring and he might never see either the ring or the man again.
“The Prince is gravely ill,” word went around the palace. “He’s pining; he might not make it through the night…”
Orlando was decided. He knew how he felt about Elijah. It wasn’t as if they weren’t equals and he knew without a doubt Elijah loved him. He went to his boss.
“I’ve made chicken soup,” he said to the cook. “May I take some up to the Prince?”
“You?” cook was beyond arguing. “I don’t see why not,” he agreed. This was one of the most liberal of kingdoms, no one appeared to think there was anything strange about the kitchen porter taking up a bowl of soup to the Prince.
When he arrived at Elijah’s bedside, Orlando was shocked at just how tired and wan the patient looked. He offered the Prince the soup in which he’d dropped the ring, the ring the Queen had given her son just before she died. Then he smiled at the Prince.
“Drink this sir,” he said and touched Elijah’s face gently.
Gazing up at him, almost like he was beginning to see something that had hitherto been hidden from him, Elijah did as he was told. Wonderingly he pulled out what he first thought was a bouquet garni but what turned out to be the ring.
“You…” he whispered.
“Me…” Orlando agreed.
~~
The wedding was everything a fairy tale wedding should be. The fountains ran wine and there was dancing and singing with everyone having a wonderful time.
Of course, Orlando’s father and brothers had been invited. They were all a bit surprised to see him looking so happy, not referring to that fateful day when he’d been thrown out of his home. Indeed, Orlando has swept him father into a big hug and ushered his family to their seats.
As each dish was brought to table, Orlando’s father became increasing more frantic, until he begun to wail loudly. Not one of the dishes had any salt in it. Orlando’s father realised his cruel words had come home to haunt him.
“It’s alright father,” Orlando hurried over, hugged him all over again while Elijah looked on. “We’re good; just try not to be such a numpty in future…”
And he never was. Meanwhile Orlando and Elijah lived happily ever after…
Author : dalehead
Pairing : Orlijah
Rating: PG
Summary: A fairy tale based around Cap O’Rushes.
A/N : For lisabellex who made the icon
A/N 2: Some of the dialogue spoken is not made up by me but is the speech of a well know TV chef. No prizes for guessing who
Once upon a time, many years ago, there was a King. Now the King had three sons, all of them fine, strapping lads, pleasing to the eye and all with the best manners found anywhere in the kingdom.
One fine day, the King woke up with a maggot in his head. He decided he wanted to know how much his three boys loved him. After all, they were his heirs but they were also the fruit of his loins
“Tell me,” he said as breakfast was served. “How much do you love me?” This was addressed to his eldest.
“Yo dude,” Prince Frank pulled his nose out of his cornflakes. “Love ya as much as my guitar…”
As Frank’s guitar invariably had to be surgically removed from his body whenever he was fulfilling his duties, opening a garden centre or presenting an award for bravery, his father was satisfied.
“And you, my boy,” the King turned to his middle son, Viggo.
“Father I love you even more than my seventy six verse poem that every one of our best scholars says is the best poem ever written…” Prince Viggo was convinced he was an unsung genius and had made it his life’s work to ensure he was indeed recognised.
The King was, therefore, satisfied. What a son, to love his old Pater even more than the epic poem that no one had ever managed to stay awake for? Why that was love indeed…
He turned to his youngest son, his Orlando. The apple of his father’s eye because as well as having the sweetest nature, Orlando was the image of his mother, long since laid to rest in the pretty churchyard that had witnessed the Royal Family’s births, marriages and deaths for many, many years.
“Orlando how much do you love me?”
There was a long silence.
“Father …” another pause. “I love you as much as good fresh meat needs salt…”
We must halt our story here for just a moment, else none of this will make sense. It’s important to know Orlando was not just a beautiful boy, he wasn’t just a spoilt boy who cried and mewled when he didn’t get his way. No Orlando was a bit of a geezer prince and he loved, simply loved to cook.
“It’s gotta be simple an’ it’s gotta be tasty…” that was his mantra so really it wasn’t surprising that his analogy referred to something in the catering line. However to get back to the story.
“How dare you … how dare you say such a thing to me? Your father; not just your father but your King, your Lord…” the King, who wasn’t very intelligent, roared. “Pack your bags and get out of my palace and my land, I never want to see you again.
The King was also something of a drama queen.
“But Father … Dad …” Orlando stuttered.
“No, go, go out the door, don’t turn around now, you’re not welcome any more.”
Frank rolled his eyes, he hated disco.
“If I go Father, then I might not come back and see how you like it when …” and for the first time since his mother died, Orlando broke down and wept bitter tears, tears that might have melted the stoniest heart but not the heart of his father. In silence he watched as Orlando picked up his chef’s knives and quietly left home to make his fortune.
~~
In another kingdom, in another palace, a young man, a prince, looked out of his window.
“I’ll know when I meet him, I’ll know and I’ll make him mine,” the young man looked up to the stars twinkling in the darkness of the sky. “I hope I meet him soon…” he sighed, closing the window and wandering downstairs to the kitchen where he loved to be allowed to sit and talk to the cook who was a particular friend of his.
“It’s gotta be simple and it’s gotta be tasty,” there was a new member of staff, he was supposed to be the kitchen porter but this boy was something quite different; he never hesitated to poke his nose in where it wasn’t wanted but the staff seemed quite happy to listen.
“Perhaps that explains why my luncheon was so good,” he commented to the cook.
“Oh yes Sir,” cook never referred to the Prince by his name unless they were alone. “He suggested cooking the salmon on a bed of vegetables and he’s right, it works perfectly…”
Prince Elijah turned to gaze at Orlando. He was a comely man and there was something about him that made Elijah’s tummy do funny somersault things. Realising it was rude to stare, Elijah turned back to the cook. Unlike many Royal Families, Elijah had been brought up to treat everyone the same, whatever their rank.
~~
I expect you’re wondering how our Orlando, himself the son of a king, happened upon this place? Well, he left his own home and ventured north where no one would know him. He had determined to make his name as a chef most extraordinary and to his surprise he was thoroughly enjoying himself. Although … he did wish he could make up the menus himself.
In January, everyone begun to gear up for Prince Elijah’s birthday. There was to be a ball; a ball that would last three nights and for which Orlando was cooking up a storm.
“For supper we will give them Fish Pie, not just any fish pie, but mine! It’s pukka mate, I’m telling you…” speaking at great speed whilst chopping onions at an even greater speed. Sometimes Orlando got very carried away, not just with his cooking but with everything. He was finding himself gradually taking on more cooking duties as the extent of his talents became clear.
The first night of the ball was fabulous.
Orlando had not been invited of course, but he had noticed the young Elijah that time in the kitchen for there was something about the guy. His big eyes, his pale skin, the way he looked as if he were looking beyond the outer shell of a person and could see deep, deep inside them.
The lack of invitation wasn’t going to stop Orlando though. He had brought three of his favourite suits with him. One was Amandi, one was Prado and the other was Rick Brown. They were brand new and he hadn’t been able to bear the thought of someone else taking them and wearing them. It took him very little time to dress in his Prado togs, don a mask and head down to the ball.
One would not need to be Einstein to guess that Orlando and Elijah met and hit it off immediately. Indeed it was almost love at first sight. They found so much in common that the evening sped by until it was the early hours of the morning and Orlando was horribly aware he would have to be at work prepping the banana pancakes.
“Good night sweet Prince…” he murmured and made his escape.
Well, you can only imagine the furore that followed. Their own Prince Elijah had spent the whole evening with one man; furthermore, the mystery man had obviously been smitten too and maybe their dear Prince was going to get married…
The King was also delighted. He wanted nothing more than for his son to be happy. If Elijah wanted to spend the rest of his days with the slim, dark haired youth of last night, he’d be the first to wish them well.
The day crawled by, culminating in Orlando being sent to bed. He looked a wreck.
“I’m all up to date with the risotto so if you get up to make the salmon and scrambled eggs for their breakfasts, you can get an early night, dear me lad, you look like a washed out dishcloth….” The cook was a kindly soul who had no use for staff drooping with tiredness.
And so it was that when the rest of the staff who weren’t on duty had retired, Orlando, now dressed in his Rick Brown threads, slipped down the backstairs and joined the ball.
Elijah was delighted.
~~
“Don’t go…”
“Lij, sweetheart, I have to, I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise, but I really, really have to go now…”
“But…”
“Babe, I’m sorry,” Orlando was terrified someone would realise who he was, they were too near the kitchen but luck was on his side. Another guest, an old friend of Elijah’s spotted him.
“Darling, darling, how simply splendid to see you…”
“Ian…” Elijah only turned away for a moment but when he looked back, the mysterious man had left.
“And I didn’t even get his name…” sighing Elijah turned back to Ian and prayed that the dark eyed beauty would turn up again tomorrow for the final night of his birthday celebration.
The next day speculation had reached frenzied proportions. Everyone from the palace and throughout the kingdom was wondering what would happen next.
Of course nothing in life is ever as one imagines it’s going to be. So it was that Orlando entered the ballroom on the final evening, his Amandi suit looking like it’d been made for him - which of course it had - drawing every man and woman’s gaze towards him. He didn’t look at them though. He only had eyes for Elijah…
“This time you have to stay, you have to give me your address, tell me your name,” Elijah had just kissed Orlando into a state of near collapse. They stared at each other.
“M not going anywhere, I’m not bloody Cinderella…” Orlando said fondly.
But Elijah wasn’t taking any chances; he took the gold ring he always wore out off his finger and gave it to Orlando. “There, take this, it was my mother’s, she died years ago.”
“Mine did too,” Orlando replied softly and when Elijah turned to ask him what had happened, he found he was alone…
~~
After that, things were not so good. For Elijah took to his bed. He still didn’t know what the handsome stranger’s name, he’d given away his dear mother’s ring and he might never see either the ring or the man again.
“The Prince is gravely ill,” word went around the palace. “He’s pining; he might not make it through the night…”
Orlando was decided. He knew how he felt about Elijah. It wasn’t as if they weren’t equals and he knew without a doubt Elijah loved him. He went to his boss.
“I’ve made chicken soup,” he said to the cook. “May I take some up to the Prince?”
“You?” cook was beyond arguing. “I don’t see why not,” he agreed. This was one of the most liberal of kingdoms, no one appeared to think there was anything strange about the kitchen porter taking up a bowl of soup to the Prince.
When he arrived at Elijah’s bedside, Orlando was shocked at just how tired and wan the patient looked. He offered the Prince the soup in which he’d dropped the ring, the ring the Queen had given her son just before she died. Then he smiled at the Prince.
“Drink this sir,” he said and touched Elijah’s face gently.
Gazing up at him, almost like he was beginning to see something that had hitherto been hidden from him, Elijah did as he was told. Wonderingly he pulled out what he first thought was a bouquet garni but what turned out to be the ring.
“You…” he whispered.
“Me…” Orlando agreed.
~~
The wedding was everything a fairy tale wedding should be. The fountains ran wine and there was dancing and singing with everyone having a wonderful time.
Of course, Orlando’s father and brothers had been invited. They were all a bit surprised to see him looking so happy, not referring to that fateful day when he’d been thrown out of his home. Indeed, Orlando has swept him father into a big hug and ushered his family to their seats.
As each dish was brought to table, Orlando’s father became increasing more frantic, until he begun to wail loudly. Not one of the dishes had any salt in it. Orlando’s father realised his cruel words had come home to haunt him.
“It’s alright father,” Orlando hurried over, hugged him all over again while Elijah looked on. “We’re good; just try not to be such a numpty in future…”
And he never was. Meanwhile Orlando and Elijah lived happily ever after…