5 is 5 is 5
In honour of this being the fifth post
I chose to write the opening like this
-Pentameter, but not at any cost-
Write not about a hug, a shag, a kiss.
Will write about how lovely I do think
You all and awesome your artistic skills.
If you are looking for some fic, this link,
Will bring you to the page with all the fills.
-- Sorry, I simply am not patient ( Read more... )
I chose to write the opening like this
-Pentameter, but not at any cost-
Write not about a hug, a shag, a kiss.
Will write about how lovely I do think
You all and awesome your artistic skills.
If you are looking for some fic, this link,
Will bring you to the page with all the fills.
-- Sorry, I simply am not patient ( Read more... )
After a slightly impersonal goodbye in which nobody cried (but Lord Mandelson did notice the younger brother pitch forward into his father's coat for a hug at the last second), they left towards the fields. They arrived for the third boy at a farm in between miles of flat fields, where Lord Mandelson tried to ignore the dark grey of the corn ears, reminding him of the time slipping through his fingers.
The boy himself was blusterous and immediately took a dislike to the older brother, who sneered a little at the state of the modest house. (Lord Mandelson guessed he was unused to a life at work which wasn't purely intellectual.) Their rivalry was subdued a little by the ride to the next home, as the new boy seemed not as adept at riding as his mother had insisted to the Advisor. (Lord Mandelson wondered whether his mother had lied to his Advisor, or whether it were more likely the boy had lied to his mother.)
They didn't meet the forth boy at his home in the middle of a busy and dirty city, and from the state of him when they pulled up to the nearby tavern, Lord Mandelson knew exactly why. It was clear the boy was poor from the state of his clothes (Although, heartbreakingly - at least to Lord Mandelson who had also known poverty - they looked like his best) and his wide, awed smile at the decorative gold buttons on the brother's coats.
When Mandelson offered him a horse, the boy scrunched his nose and stared at the bewitched mount for a handful of long, slow seconds before announcing "This ain't no 'orse like I ev’r seen". Lord Mandelson's surprise at the boy's intelligence to recognise sorcery was quickly covered by incredible laughter from the boy they last picked up, presumably over the state of the new boy's English.
Mandelson was sure he would have a fight on his hands, but to his surprise the newest boy merely ignored them, stroked the mare's head before mounting up and out-riding all three of his peers.
After returning to the castle, Lord Mandelson took the boys through the entrance hall to the Kings' reception room. The four boys reacted differently to the environment of the castle, a reaction which Lord Mandelson watched with great curiosity.
The eldest brother, David, seemed to forcibly ignore everything of great majesty as if to show interest could imply he didn't belong, his face determined and absent of childish curiosity.
His younger brother, Edward, did look at the paintings with awe and wonder, but in between nervous glances to his brother, as if looking for permission. Lord Mandelson noticed David occasionally sneaking glances towards him, and offering grudgingly short squeezes to his brother's open left hand whenever he thought Lord Mandelson wasn't looking.
The landowner's son, also called Edward, smirked as if he owned every thing he put his eyes on. Unlike David, Edward looked at everything (and touched if he could) with utmost confidence, as if it were he who was showing his palace to his young friends.
The youngest boy, Andrew, did not surprise Lord Mandelson's expectations at all. For a boy who perhaps ate once a day if he were lucky, Andrew's mouth was open from the first suit of armour to the last painting in the hall, his eyes wider than the planets. He was last in their line, slowing down and swallowing whenever anything caught his eye, which was almost every second.
Lord Mandelson opened the grand door with a thought. The Kings were waiting - informed by the staff when Lord Mandelson had left to expect the heirs (Mandelson had not wanted to break the idea himself) - in their twin thrones.
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"Lord Mandelson," King Anthony began, pulling the Lord out of his own, less reverential, bow. "These are the boys, I presume?"
"Yes, my king," Mandelson replied, gesturing at the boys to lift their heads. "The new princes."
King Anthony examined each of them critically in turn, walking down from his throne and looking at each face. Mandelson watched carefully as King Anthony inspected them like prize winning horses, judging their eyes as if their could be secrets trapped within.
"How old are you?" King Anthony asked the oldest brother.
"Twelve years, my sire," David replied, unsuccessfully hiding his swallow.
"Bit old," King Anthony commented to Mandelson. David bit on his lip, but looked devastated regardless.
"The others are seven, ten and seven, my king." Lord Mandelson gestured to them in turn. "Although, I do think you should perhaps look beyond years and towards their qualities as possible rulers of your kingdom. The boy may be a little old, but he has not reached adolescence. There is still time to train him. In fact, if I know his father well enough, he has probably already begun in the correct vein."
"Oh, really?" King Anthony turned back to the boy, intrigued. "Young boy, you have begun learning of the politics though which we govern?"
"Yes, my sire." The young boy focused on the floor. "A governing of ideas and ideals but not of outdated ideology. What counts is what works, sire."
King Anthony smiled. King Gordon, who had remained silent during King Anthony's inspection, suddenly stood. He testily walked down to near Mandelson, giving him the scathing and brutish look the Lord had begun to expect as a standard greeting.
"We are relying on the Dark Lord's magic to forewarn a crisis which no doctor or ruler can see," King Gordon growled. "I do not trust him, Anthony."
Lord Mandelson fixed his king with a smile. "My lord, have I ever dared inform you incorrectly?"
King Gordon ignored him, turning to King Anthony. "I do not like entrusting our future to someone who talks to the darkness."
"Gordon," King Anthony said, clapping his fellow King on his shoulder. King Gordon gritted his teeth. "You must trust in Lord Mandelson. And if you cannot trust in him, then you must trust in me. If Lord Mandelson's prophecy turns to be a falsehood then what have we done worse than house and shelter four healthy boys? If they are not to be kings, they are to be lords or knights or noblemen - men loyal to us in the future, grateful forever as we gave them succour in their youth."
King Gordon receded, but only to King Anthony's charm (Lord Mandelson knew the bitterness which King Gordon continued to lock up within his heart would only be inflamed by this disregard of his position). King Anthony, oblivious, turned to the four boys and placed his hand on each shoulder in turn.
"Young men," King Anthony began, speaking to each of them in turn. "I proclaim you to belong to my house from henceforth, as the young princes of King Anthony and King Gordon, and the sovereignty we embody as rulers of our kingdom."
"Thank you, sire," each boy said together, their young voices trembling.
"Lord Mandelson, escort them to their rooms," King Anthony ordered, to a short bow from the Lord. "Wash them and change their clothes for dinner. I wish to learn their minds tonight."
"Yes, my liege," Lord Mandelson replied, and ushered the boys towards the door.
Outside, thunder rolled, lightening struck and water began to sink into the grey earth.
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And, um, isn't Andy a bit young to be in a tavern?
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My Andy crush is showing. Thank you for commenting!
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I HAVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG FOR FANTASY!AU
THIS IS SO AWESOME
(Is Diane going to show up? I dearly hope she will)
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Thank you so much for all the lovely capslock. YAY.
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King Anthony had took an unguarded shine to Prince David, and this only slightly worried Lord Mandelson. Although King Anthony made sure he divided his time roughly equally to all four princes, there was a special sparkle in his eyes whenever Prince David's turn arrived, whether to discuss the great men of their past or the politics of Prince David's old home.
Lord Mandelson would have preferred to spend his time teaching the boys or enjoying their effect on King Anthony (and, as a consequence, ensuring that King Anthony did not put all of his trust and faith into only one boy), but the darkness which had been barely skimming the land at the time of the boys' arrival had slowly started to take a firmer grip. Lord Mandelson had received word of unusually choppy waters and fastidious crops refusing to grow. Although deeply troubling, Lord Mandelson set aside worry in favour of work.
Consulting the darkness in deep meditation, Lord Mandelson asked for a solution, and shortly found it hidden deep within his books. (The darkness tended to work swiftly, which Lord Mandelson often thanked it for.) Although there was no permanent solution, there were several spells which could be cast to ensure food production and trade for another few years (after which time, Lord Mandelson would have to think of a more stringent resolution).
But there was one problem. The spells were not only complicated, but incredibly draining and wide spread. With gritted teeth and the threat of a tension headache, Lord Mandelson had realised that the curse befalling the land was of such extent and depth that there was no possibility of working alone. Lord Mandelson preferred to work alone, behind his kings, as the third man, and an inability to do so irked him greatly. But worse than the feeling of ineptitude was the knowledge that there was only one man competent to wield such power over the land with him - a man named Campbell who lived high in the North.
Although incredibly talented, he was the largest pain in Mandelson's neck and had been for some time. He previously worked at the palace, but King Gordon’s hatred of all things mystical had reached its paranoid heights last Spring, and he had been cast out (but not without great reimbursement). It had only been King Anthony’s fondness for Lord Mandelson which kept him from the same fate (one of the many reasons Campbell hated the sight of his former contemporary.)
Lord Mandelson disliked Campbell, but knew there was no alternative. With a heavy heart and a throbbing skull, Mandelson exited his study with the inescapable conclusion rattling. He had moved just a handful of steps before his neck reddened, feeling the undeniable tell of being followed.
The elder Prince Edward was trailing the Lord's path (he had waited outside Lord Mandelson’s study for the man to emerge) and set his jaw as Lord Mandelson raised an eyebrow at the boy. The lord was surprised that such an expression on a boy barely ten years of age did not look at all immature, but rather fierce and determined.
"I wish to speak to King Gordon," Prince Edward demanded.
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"I'm afraid that is not possible. My liege," Lord Mandelson replied, adding the epithet as an afterthought.
The boy scowled further. "I wish to speak to him. He never eats with us. How am I to prove my worth if I cannot speak to him? And if you cannot command King Gordon to speak with me, then I demand you must bewitch him to do so."
Lord Mandelson almost laughed. "My dear boy, you are completely ignorant to the delicacies of the dark arts."
There was a short but tense silence as Prince Edward stared at the Lord, as if goading him into obeying. Lord Mandelson wondered if all the expressions the prince had come from work dogs, and offered him a very thin smile.
Eventually, Prince Edward snapped his gaze away. "Fine. Then you are to give me the spells so I can cast them myself."
This time, Lord Mandelson did laugh, which set fire into Prince Edward's eyes. "Magic is not merely incantations, young prince. You require skill - which is brought to you by birth, not by anything I may be able to teach, my I add - and you, my dear, dear most royal prince, have all the magical depth of a large uncut rock. Just as a language is useless to those who have no knowledge of the flow of words, magic is dead to those who have never been alive to it."
Prince Edward bore his eyes into Lord Mandelson's, which had the unfortunateness of providing Lord Mandelson with more amusement than terror. He struggled not to laugh more, for fear of looking undignified.
The prospect of having to contact Campbell had been forgotten for a few seconds and, for the distraction, Lord Mandelson felt uncharacteristically sympathetic. Lord Mandelson sighed and rolled his eyes theatrically, as if giving into the prince's demands was a great hardship, and returned quickly to his study.
A few seconds later, he pressed a small, leather-bound book into Prince Edward's hands. Prince Edward took it gently, as if afraid it were shortly to burst into flames, and stared at the runes on the cover. (Dark runes were unintelligible to those with no magical talent of which, Lord Mandelson was sure, Prince Edward was.) He turned the pages while biting his lower lip, careful with the tissue-thin paper.
"If you believe mere determination may gift you the power you seek, then you may cast any of these spells you wish.” Lord Mandelson waved a hand dismissively. “However, I would not try too hard. Your nose may start to bleed, and I do wish to keep the carpet clean."
Before Prince Edward could think of a retort, Lord Mandelson was gone, planning his leave for the High North and Campbell later in the year, as the High North was inaccessible during the winter and early spring, and the disaster that was sure to behold.
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In their free time away from tutors and instructors, Prince Andrew and the elder Prince Edward were almost inseparable. Prince Andrew had dealt with a case of sibling-related insomnia fully (after sharing his bed with his various siblings, having his own room - let alone his own huge four poster - made him wake up when jerking to sleep at the inconstancy of smacking his arm across the bed and not meeting another body), but he was still trapped by a yearning for childish interaction.
It was inconceivable to Prince Andrew to spend spare time the way David or his brother did. Both were so concerned with reading that Prince Andrew wondered if they were not humans, but something in disguise - something which needed words in the same way that humans needed air. Unable to connect with the bookish brothers, he found an ally in Prince Edward who, although less knowledgeable of most of the games Prince Andrew had learnt from childhood (which was, again, inconceivable), was still open to the idea of adventuring in the grounds.
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It was during one of these adventures (finding shortcuts through the large hedge maze by creating holes) that they had found a gap within two large bushes at the edges of the grounds. It was just large enough to let a child through -which seemed to make the passage both magical and theirs in both boys’ minds - and exited outside the grounds, in the town which surrounded the palace.
After returning to their rooms to change into something less conspicuous to usual town folk, Edward and Andrew explored at length the winding roads and busy stalls. Andrew’s homesickness for his docks was placated and Edward seemed to enjoy being shooed by stall owners, as if it were a curiosity he had only read about.
They spent most of the spring claiming the town as their own, drawing maps into their minds lest they ever forget their secret alleys and abandoned houses. The fact that other people lived and worked there never crossed either boys’ minds. In their minds, the town was purely theirs - their own kingdom to rule in their youth - and played at being cloaked royalty (which, technically, they were) merely to investigate their subjects and judge them accordingly.
Spring soon warmed into a summer (both boys gained a year on their ages with pride) and the town became a surge of trade as new wares arrived from the nearby ports and crops pleaded for the beginning of their harvest.
It was Andrew’s idea to invite the younger brother Edward into their secret. For almost a day the older Edward had sulked bitterly over the plan, complaining that Andrew was ruining a good thing. Andrew suspected Edward’s dislike for David (which had blossomed into a seething hatred as King Anthony continued to play favourites with his princes) followed into their bloodline, and Edward really had no ill will towards his younger namesake, just the fact he shared blood and a house with his enemy.
Prince Andrew had not got to know the younger Edward as much as he would like, as he was often clamouring for the shadow of his elder brother and following his penchant for ignoring everyone in favour of books, but in the few times they did speak it was usually at length. Unlike the two elder princes (who never showed fear), Andrew found great solace in the younger Edward’s nerves, mirroring his own (although Andrew was able to hide them better). Andrew also noticed that the younger Edward’s approach to life was similar to the older Edward (both enthused by the same political ideals and authors), and Andrew was sure they would become friends if they were able to take Edward away from his brother long enough to let his own personality shine through.
It had been a hard task to separate them. After three attempts, Prince Andrew had finally cornered him after their daily session with their tutor, insisting that he should spend his next free hours outside playing football. Prince David had not waited for his brother as Prince Andrew distracted him and, without anyone to follow, the younger Prince Edward flushed ashamedly before muttering an acceptance to the invitation.
The prospect of football gave Prince Andrew an excuse to keep the younger Prince Edward out of royal clothing (both Andrew and the older Edward came in from practice with mud caked around their knees - something which the nurses often slapped them for), so when Prince Andrew called on the older Prince Edward to take their leave, they were ready for a day exploring the town.
Prince Andrew rapped on Edward’s door with urgency, rocking on the balls of his feet as he waited for an answer.
After a few seconds of waiting, Prince Andrew burst in anyway, spying Prince Edward dashing something small underneath his bedsheets before looking up with a scowl.
“What’cha hiding?” Prince Andrew asked.
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They had little difficulty in persuading the younger Prince Edward that the best place for football was also the closest to the edges of the grounds. Andrew had planned to explain the situation delicately to the younger Prince before offering him the hole, but the Prince Edward had decided to say nothing before shoving him through, ignoring the panicked yelp and following quickly.
The younger Edward panicked. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Adventuring,” the older Edward offered by reason of explanation. “To do so outside books may trouble you, I am aware.”
Andrew sighed and followed both Edwards, pushing branches away from his eyes and slipping quickly through the hole. The break emerged in a street with a high fence, which they then had to jump over, and into a cobbled alley. Andrew’s nose widened at the smell of food - it had been hours since breakfast - from the nearby bakery. He tried to enjoy the serenity of a similar space to what he recognised from home, but the younger Edward was almost shaking with fear, darting his eyes back to the looming castle behind them and biting down hard on his lip.
“Will they find us?” he whispered.
Andrew shrugged. “They ‘aven’t found us before. We’ve come down here loads of times. Come on.”
Andrew followed the older Edward through the alley to the marketplace, only occasionally darting his eyes backwards to ensure the younger Edward was following. Although Andrew’s plan had been to let the two Edwards talk, but he forgot it quickly, absorbed by the homely comfort of their town. As they walked past market stalls, dodging carts and horses recklessly, the older Edward explained the geography of the place to his younger namesake, waving his hands when illustration was necessary.
So involved in the dramatic portrayal was Edward, that he managed to walk straight into a cart, on which a girl was perched on top of a selection of bright green apples. She laughed at him as Edward rubbed his nose angrily.
Andrew beamed up at her. “Good morning, Caroline!”
“Morning, Andy,” she replied. Her dark hair was cut very short for a girl (Andrew had asked her of this when they met: she insisted it was not to play as a boy did, which was Andrew’s first suspicion, but to not get it caught in branches as she worked in his orchard). She was older even than David, but always gave time to them.
Caroline slapped the older Edward’s hand as he reached to sneak an apple. “You pay, Ed.”
Edward grumbled before pressing a coin into her hand, to which she smiled and passed him two apples, of which Andrew quickly grabbed what he thought to be the brightest.
“Are you selling all today?” Andrew asked, biting into the apple and chewing thoughtfully. “I thought you said you were to go to the port?”
“The plans changed,” Caroline replied, slightly despondently. “The waves are getting worse and the boats are detained for another day.” It was at that moment that Caroline noticed the younger Edward, who was standing to the side, as if worried of intruding on the conversation. She looked down on him. “I ‘aven’t seen you before!”
Andrew stared at the younger Edward as his eyes widened, as if trapped in time. Andrew eventually got bored and prodded him in the side with a sticky hand, making him yelp.
“Oh! Um,” he swallowed. “Good day, madam.”
Caroline laughed. “He sounds posher than here Ed.”
The younger Edward turned scarlet as Andrew laughed. “Truth! And ‘e falters in his speech like ‘im.”
“I do not falter!” the elder Edward shouted, throwing the core of his eaten apple at Andrew’s head.
Andrew ducked his head, laughing. “You falter as you protest!” Edward lunged for him and they chased each other underneath the cart.
Caroline regarded them with fondness as Edward pushed Andrew into the mud, turning back to face the younger Edward with the brightest smile he had ever seen.
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