Well, this is my first HS fanfic, and it's AU, so I hope I can get it rolling well enough to keep you interested~ :3

Disclaimer- I own neither Homstuck of Andrew Hussie, sadly..

Enjoy~

A bustling small-town lay nestled in a valley, a large castle over-looking it from the peak of one of the framing mountaings. Large, worn streets led in at the northern and southern sections, slipping through the slim openings in the foothills on either side of the concave opening. The town, though small, was an important trading center and was one of the wealthiest of the kingdom.

The people living in said town all held their royal family in high respect, forever dressed in the soft magenta and rich gold of the kingdom. Patriotic, loyal and happy, they had been left in peace for generations and, as many believed, would continue to for decades to come.

A girl, dangerously nearing her coming of age, wandered out towards the cliff that over-looked the town. Her hair fell in graceful waves, a long, silken veil trailing behind her in the breeze. She smoothed her dress as she sat down, smiling.

The view from here was breath-taking, even though she'd lived here since she was born, and it never seemed to loose it's special affect. The entire scene changed with the seasons- even with the mere passing of the day. Early morning had soft rays cast from behind the castle, noon shown right down on it, evening held gentle light from the opposite side of the castle -her personal favorite- and night when all the stars came into focus.

She smiled, taking in the endearing village to the best of her abilities. From what she understood, she was currently engaged to another of royal blood. It was an unbelievably important marriage, her father had told her, that would unite not simply warring kingdoms, but the races. Trolls and humans united for the good of all.

It was purely beneficial, so she had held her peace with the idea, but somewhere deep down, she knew she'd never be able to go through with it. Sure, the prince, John, was a nice boy, but he was not the one for her. She'd had her eye on one of royal blood for a long while..

"Feferi, dear, come in. You'll catch your death out here dressed like that!" Her mother called, standing at the top of the gentle hill sloping down to where she sat.

"Sorry, mother," she giggled, standing up and casting one last look downward before ascending to her parental figure. Her mother's skin show a pleasant silver in the light of afternoon, gracefully curving horns glowing gold and tangerine.

"Come, now. You must clean yourself up! He'll be arriving soon so you may be better aquainted." The Queen made a shooing motion and Feferi, in a very unlady-like mannor, gathered up her dress and ran back towards the castle; closing her eyes as the wind rushed past her face and whispered away all of her worries with promises of a happier future.

o0o0o0o0o

Slaves -or servants, as the title sounded less demanding- hurried about the halls, every one stopping to courtsey or bow to Feferi as she made her way towards her chamber up near the top of a tower. All but one, in truth, but she didn't bother; he never had been agreeable.

He watched with slitted eyes as the high-and-mighty Queen-to-be passed him, biting back a hateful snarl. He knew she'd seen him, she always saw, but it didn't stop him from sneering after her. Who did she think she was- always acting so sweet and perfect like that? It made him sick. She didn't deserve to rule. She was too soft, too willing to give and never demanding or taking. She wouldn't last.

It wasn't until someone bumped him in passing that he snapped back to reality, looking around. He'd drifted off into scornful thought again, dammit.. He really needed to stop doing that. Gathering up a sack of grain that likely weighed more than he, the servant meandered down the corridor towards the storage.

o0o0o0o0o

Feferi swept her way down the stairs at her mother's beconing, flowing dress drifting behind her as she reached the bottom of the steps where the grand doors stood open. The Queen was conversing politely with John, the prince she was to wed. He looked younger than he was, being short, thin and large-eyed, though it was all rather cute.

His saphire eyes turned to her, magnified by a set of thick glasses his father had had costom made for him at a young age. He smiled, bowing, and she, in turn, courtsied. "Hello, your highness~" John greeted, voice as cheery and bubbly as ever.

Granted, they'd only talked a few times previous, but Feferi immediately felt something off. Her mother, obviously, didn't, as she gave a swift farewell and regally turned to attend more serious matters than her daughter's suitor.

"Hello," she replied softly. "And Feferi is fine." He nodded, giving an innocent grin as his head bobbed in agreement.

They turned to slip back out the large doors, having agreed meetings previous that the garden was the best place to spend their time. "So what have you been up to lately, John?" She asked, watching him cock his head and give her a side-long glance as they walked.

"Nothing," he replied, albeit a bit quickly. She inwardly refused to call him out on it, infering she knew exactly what he meant. "Though, uhm.. I've kinda been thinkin' about some stuff." John admitted reluctantly.

"Oh have you..?"

o0o0o0o0o

The slave hurried up one of the cold halls, face scrunched in irratation. He'd been caught slacking and had had his shoes taken; bare feet slapping with every step. He supposed it was a bonus, as stomping with padded shoes never did have much effect. These, however, echoed disoriented all the way to the end of the corridor and back.

Not to mention it was a far more merciful punishment than he'd recieved the week before.

Now, despite the kindness that practically oozed from the Queen and her daughter, the people who over-looked the servants were cruel, heartless men. They often beat those that weren't prompt or perfect in their work. That meant everyone now or then- and himself almost constantly.

His name, Karkat Vantas, was forever on the lips of the men as they traded torture stories. One of the worst beatings he'd ever gotten had been over him standing up for a widow on the verge of being attacked. She'd escaped during his feisty ranting and he'd taken the beating in her place as well as the one he was already owed.

Karkat was shoved aside as someone rushed past, growling and glaring after them. "What the hell was that shit about?" He asked, looking to one of the other slaves who had paused to watch.

"I think he's, uhm, g-going to meet, the Princess and P-Prince," the boy stuttered, returning Karkat's cold stare with large, chocolatey eyes. "They're, uh, supposed to be in the, uhm, garden."

With a scratchy sigh, Karkat turned his back on the boy and started up the hall after where the man had been rushing. What could be so important that he'd so rudely been pushed aside? Sure, he was a slave, the lowest of the low, but he worked in the castle; that in and of itself warented some respect, didn't it?

Regardless, he decided to tag along, unbeknownst to the man, to see just what was going on.