**Rotten Fruit**

[WritingWithLove]

If it was possible for a room to be both poor and wealthy, this was it. It was decorated in luxurious wallpaper and carpet, and the open fireplace was made of fine, grey stone. It was dark and dismal, ridden with sin. Two red, leather chairs sat in front of it, one lover per seat.
Fae smiled as she admired her newest ring. The band was pure gold, the diamond a shocking white. She sighed. "Is this the best you could get from me, darling?" she said with a grin to the man.
Grimhilde White was of stern mind and like. He looked into the fireplace and adjusted his red tie, something he did to assert his authority. "I had my boys search for three weeks for that," he said in a way that was both commanding and not.
"Well, they could have done better, Rim."
"Yes, yes, of course. Only the best for my queen."
"Damn straight."

A little boy came around the corner after having another nightmare. One of scary forests and wicked step-sisters and evil step-mothers...

Fae turned to Rim and batted her eyes. "Darling, tell me more about those Poison Apples you've been selling?" Rim snapped to attention and gnashed his teeth. "Hush, woman! The walls have ears, and in my business they have hearing aids to assist them!" Fae rolled her eyes. "More talk with less embelishment, dear."

The boy tip-toed to behind his father's cahir and remained silent, like he was used to doing.

"Well," Rim began, "they are gems that have the power to put anyone to sleep with a single touch. In the wrong hands, they can cause chaos. One could take revenge on spouses," he winked at her, "rob a few banks... and possibly overthrow a kingdom."
Fae chuckled seductively and leaned in close to him. "Oh, I love it when you speak like that. Say more."
"Uh, F-Father?"
Rim shot out of his seat, and Fae did as well. "Sawyer White!" Rim hissed, "What in the hell are you doing up at this hour?!" Sawyer looked down, letting one of his bangs fall in front of his eyes. "I-I'm sorry, sir. I had a bad dream." Fae laughed and sent him back to bed.
Rim looked at Fae crossly and muttered, "This has gone on long enough. You need to get rid of him."
"Get rid of him? What do you mean?"
"He's heard far too much already. You know exactly what I mean."
***
A few hours later, Sawyer was fast asleep in his rotted bed. The yarn blanket was less than substantial, but it was more than enough for his eight-year-old body.
Fae slowly opened the creaking door, knife in hand, ready to strike. She looked at the poor boy sadly; she almost felt as if she liked him.
She crept closer and closer to the bed until she was looming over him. Suddenly, Sawyer stirred, and Fae felt a pain in her heart that she'd never felt before, not even with the daughter she'd come to hate, the one she lost.
"Sawyer, get up, dear." she said, shaking him awake. He opened his eyes and gasped. "No, please, I haven't done anything, M-Mother!" he said, choking out the word "mother;" she was of no blood relation to him. "Please, don't hurt me! Please! No belt tonight! Tell Father I'm sorry!" he whimpered. Fae hushed him. "Your father asked something of me... something I simply cannot bring myself to do." She sighed heavily and said, "You've got to run away, Sawyer."
"R-run away?"
"Yes, run away. Run away and never, ever come back. "
"Why?"
A long silence.
"Your father wants you dead. You mustn't tell a soul, or else he'll surely get you! Now, run!"

In a flash, Sawyer was out the window, running blindy who-knows-where. He ran out of the dismal neighborhood where the kids always teased him, out of the town that was once so well-guarded by someone who was either missing or didn't care anymore, and into a dark forest like he had seen in his dream.
As if there was a force that despised him, suddenly it began to pour rain. Thunder clapped and deafened him, and he was blinded by the lightning. All at once, Sawyer collapsed where he stood, crying hyterically, begging, "Please, someone, anyone, save me..."
***
It was the following morning. Sawyer was bruised and cut, but no other physical injuries; his mind, however, was beyond repair. He sat quietly in his soaked, tattered clothes, and hummed a melody that his mother had sung to him when he was a child.

One Song, I have but one song... One song only for you. One heart tenderly beating, ever entreating, constant and true. One love that has possessed me. One love thrilling me through. One song my heart keeps singing of one love only for you...

He began to cry, wondering if anyone could ever help a lost boy such as him.  

[The Jolly Victini]

S.M. was walking through his forest, reflecting on what this section of it once was. Yes, there were sprouts and saplings everywhere you looked, but the dead trees and lush treeline were still painfully visible.

S.M. wondered that if at night, this place would seem pretty eerie and foreboding. A place someone certainly wouldn't want to get lost in. He stopped. There was a boy. A boy in his forest, lost and alone. He looked like he had barely been taken care of. He slowly walked over to the boy and knelt down beside him. "Hey, kid. Are you alright?" he asked gently.  

[WritingWithLove]

A normal person would have thought, Oh, look! Someone's here! Maybe he can help me!
Sawyer's mind was far from normal.
He stumbled to his feet and put up his hands in a half-protecting way. "No, yes, please, I'm fine, sir! I-I'm okay, please!" He tripped backwards over his pant leg- his jeans were far too big- and landed flat on his back. "Uh, I'm fine!" he repeated as he stood back up nervously, "I'm fine, please, sir! Please, I'm okay! Honest!" He turned away and thought to run, but something possessed him to stay put.

Maybe he can help me!
No, he'll just hurt me like everyone else does!  

[The Jolly Victini]

"Hey, hey, hey!" S.M. said, trying to get back in front of the boy. "It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you! You don't look to good, do you wanna come to my house and... shower? Eat? You look like you've had a really hard time lately..."  

[WritingWithLove]

Sawyer twisted his sweatshirt, wringing out the rain. "Sh-show-er?" he said, as if he was learning a word from a foreign language.

What is a sh-ow-er?
It has "ow" in it, so maybe it's painful!

"No, please, I'm fine, please." he replied, exhausting the word "please" like his father always scolded him for doing. His stomach growled in protest, and the scared boy took a step toward the stranger and said, "D-do you have... food, p-please?"  

[The Jolly Victini]

"Yeah, I've got food. C'mon, let's go to my castle and I'll get you some food." S.M. said, standing up and reaching his hand out.  

[WritingWithLove]

Sawyer cautiously took the stranger's hand. Castle? Who was he?
***
The kitchen was larger than Sawyer's room if it were quadrupeled. His eyes were wide with awe and shock as he looked around. "You live here, sir?" he asked, his voice raspy from having nothing to drink.  

[The Jolly Victini]

S.M. got a glass of water for the boy and handed it to him. "Yes indeedy. You're looking at King Swift Macafee, ruler of the Ice Kingdom." he said, gently ruffling the boys hair.  

[WritingWithLove]

"In the wrong hands, they can cause chaos. One could take revenge on spouses, rob a few banks... and possibly overthrow a kingdom."

The king?!

Crash!

Sawyer dropped his glass in shock. He realized what he'd done, and he ducked down and covered his head with his hands out of fear and anticipation. "Oh, please, I'm sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Please! Don't hurt me! No belts, please! Please, I'm sorry! I can clean it up! I-I'm good at that! Cleaning! Please don't hurt me, sir! Please!"
He cowered in fear, waiting for the pain to arrive.

Make it quick! I can't stand waiting for it!  

[The Jolly Victini]

S.M. panicked for only a moment before he placed a hand on the boy's back. "Hey, now. Accidents happen, I'm not gonna hit you over it. There's no use crying over spilled milk... or, in this case, spilled water." S.M. gave a light chuckle. He walked over to a cabinet and grabbed a dust pan, a brush and a rag. He set those down and hoisted the boy onto his shoulders to keep him from stepping on the glass and began to clean up the small mess.  

[WritingWithLove]

One word traveled through Sawyer's mind: What?

"Y-you're not gonna punish me?" he asked to clarify. He had been lulled into a false sense of security before, so he remained wary. He held on to S.M. tightly, though; for some reason, it seemed to comfort him.
"You don't wanna scold me for what I did? Or hurt me? Or tell me that I'm stupid? Don't you wanna do anything to me?" he asked, genuinely confused. What was wrong with this guy? It was perfectly normal to get smacked... right?  

[The Jolly Victini]

"What? No!" S.M. replied. "You shouldn't be scolded for something so minor. It could happen to anyone, smart or, erm... not-so-smart, for a lack of a better term." S.M. said, standing up and dumping the glass into the trash can.  

[WritingWithLove]

The king is very strange, he thought to himself, his face giving away his thoughts. He held on a bit tighter and asked, "So, um, this place is awful big... Do you ever get lost?"

Stupid question! Bad! Bad!

"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be rude! Sorry!" he pleaded. He turned away and bit his lip hard. "Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry, please..."  

[X_HeartofRoses_X]

Frost walked in, humming. "Oh, hello--" She stopped as she saw the child and her motherly instincts were set into overdrive. "My word! What happened to him?!" She screeched, running forward.  

[WritingWithLove]

Sawyer ducked to the ground and covered his face, relinquishing his grip of S.M., though he didn't want to.. "Oh! I'm sorry! I'm fine! I'm fine, really, please! Sorry!" he exclaimed. He looked up slightly and met the woman's glance with fearful eyes.

Does she want to help me? Or is she just another bully like Ella and Mother?