"Eat dirt, slave."

The rough bottom of a shoe was jammed into a small, red haired boy's cheek as the cruel one above him used his heel to grind his face further into the ground. A nasty grin was etched across his face as, from behind his hulking figure, a smaller boy spoke up.

"Hey, that's not nice."

The smile dropped and the grinding stopped as he scowled and glanced back at a boy with white hair and pointed ears.

"It's not nice if it's someone other than a dirty slave, Atticus," he sneered. "He means nothing so I can treat him however I want."

Atticus withdrew slightly, his two small hands gripping his favorite little blue ball tightly against his chest. He bowed his head to look at the scuffed, dirty surface.

This was his fault.

He'd been playing with the bigger boy, a son of a visiting Duke who was having lunch with his father, the king. They were kicking the ball around when the other kid had kicked it into a high bush and Atticus had had the bright idea of asking the butler's trainee to retrieve it.

And now he was getting bullied for being nice...

"Gomer, stop," he said, this time a little louder. He looked up and caught the heated gaze of his "friend" locked on him yet again. No, that boy wasn't his friend, not if he was going to be so prideful and arrogant and mean.

"Why should I? He's just a servant."

Atticus set his jaw and scowled as his brows lowered over his eyes, alight with an angry look to them.

"Because I told you to," he insisted, stepping towards Gomer and pointing at him. "I don't like you being mean to my servants. Stop it or leave."

"Tch!" The larger boy spat on the ground near the little prince's feet. "I thought you'd be more fun than that, you stick in the mud," he growled before stalking away.

The smaller boy with red hair didn't move from his place on the ground and Atticus hesitated before speaking again.

Was he mad? Was he hurt? The half-elvish child didn't fully know what to do.

Perhaps an apology would do well in this situation.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, taking a tiny step forward. "I'm sorry he treated you that way."

Still, the apprentice Butler did not move and Atticus was genuinely worried that Gomer had somehow killed the poor lad.

"I'm fine."

The voice was soft and nearly nonexistent as he seemingly rose from the dead to sit up and hold his cheek, a huge wave of relief washing over the prince.

"Thank goodness," he sighed, plopping down on the ground to sit in front of the other male. "I was worried."

The boy's eyes were affixed to the ground, his shoulders slumped. To Atticus, he looked like that of a beaten dog and he didn't like that idea.

"What's your name? Mine is Atticus."

The red hair shifted and sweet, watery amber eyes peered up at him.

"Milo."

The little prince held out the small blue ball as an offer to the person who was now known to him as Milo.

"Well, Milo," he said, "would you like to play with me?"

A/N: Dedicated to @ll-leiiko-ll for their request. This was inspired from two characters in her roleplay, "Serien."