My Prince

I would also like a beta. Or something… I’m new to this whole thing, although this isn’t my first fanfiction (but it is my first posted on AFF). Soooo, yeah. Contact me or something if you’re interested, but I’m not an expert on this whole thing, just as a warning. However, I’d reeeaaalllly appreciate it if someone could beta. =)
Otherwise, feel free to comment. I know I swap a lot between the twins, and tell me if that’s confusing or not, because I’ll change the style. I have a very, very strong roleplaying background, but I’m trying my best to break out of it.

Ack. XD I just read over it before posting it and I hate it… I intend to have the chapters a lot longer, but I wanted to get a feel for how people found the story before I continue, so please comment! Tell me what you think and whether or not the world needs another slash fic like this.

Warnings for this chapter: Mild incest.

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There is no prouder moment for a man than when he is made a father. I can only imagine that it is doubled for a man gifted with twins, as that is what I have been blessed with. I, King Leo, have been gifted with two boys as heirs to the throne.
However, it is only natural that something should go awry. I am a widower as of tonight. My queen did not survive the laboured birthing, and I am deeply grieved, and I fear nothing will balm my broken heart. So bittersweet that my children have taken away the love of my life. Yet, they are not to blame.
But more than that, there is more tragedy to this story. The first child was born sickly, and the matron fears that he may not have long to live. I shall hide him away and send him to live with my bastard brother, and claim that the second born was the only babe born as the sole heir. I do not want to run the risk of losing another life so soon. I do not want to forsake what my wife gifted me with. I do not want someone with a grievance against the kingdom to take the life of my eldest son while he is in such a vulnerable state. Should fate look kindly upon him, and bless him with good health as he grows, I shall introduce him to the castle when he is older and he may take his place as crown prince. Until then, I have full trust in my brother, Decklin, that he may watch over my son as if he were his own.
I shall name the eldest Sable Riley Callaghan, and the youngest Cerwin Leo Callaghan.

Signed, King Leo Rutherford Callaghan.

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“My Prince,” a stern, yet friendly voice chided the young royal, “While I said I would accompany you to the marketplace, I think we should start heading back to the palace.” The man, the guard sent to protect the Prince, tried to look somewhat collected and calm about the spontaneous visit to the city. He had only followed the younger male when it seemed evident that Prince Cerwin was going to visit the markets regardless of what the his guard said.
Mahogany eyes held a little pleading as they stared at the Prince. There was a drawn out silence between the two of them, standing in the middle of the street as the royal considered that proposition. It didn’t take long, a smile beaming on his lips as he assured the poor protector, “Just one more shop, Cassius. And then we may return.”

Ha! One more. Cassius, personal guard to the sole heir to the thrown, laughed at that. “Of course, my Prince. And then one more after that, and then another.”

Prince Cerwin laughed with him innocently, waving a hand at him. “Of course not, dear Cassius. One more, then we can leave.” The Prince flashed his companion a playful smirk, gaze traveling his form in the afternoon light.
Eyeing the guard, he stood out a little from other people. The colour of his hair was a rich brown, almost wine red, clipped rather short and out of the way. It matched the trimmed beard that lined his jaw, cleanly kept and scrutinized. After all, he had his image to uphold as someone who worked for the palace. His clothing was simple, a light leather buff jerkin and mud brown leggings. His skin was sun-kissed, and had the natural, firm build of someone born with a sword in their hand. He wore no visible weapons, save daggers at his belt. And yet, the guard needed very little to disarm anyone.

Cassius’ guesses were right, as the Prince had no intention of going back to the palace yet. No, he was having fun, and that was all he cared about at the moment. Not that he was a rash person, or terribly selfish… everyone needed entertainment every now and then.
Of course, most Princes and Princesses in stories visited the lesser streets went to indulge in the people, to gain some sense of humility. Or, to escape the stifling palace to gain a sense of freedom that would open their eyes to the larger world outside their castle walls. Mostly, it was some act to feed the spirit, to gain a higher sense of being… at least in some sense. But not for Cerwin… No, for him, it were merely a walk, where he would spend his money, and perhaps find some entertainment amongst the foolish commoners. Really, some of them could be so moronic… and the Prince merely found it entertaining to pull those strings so tightly bound to the puppets.

The Prince was the sole heir to the throne, and so it was only natural he might appear selfish. After all, he did not have to share the wealth of royalty with any other siblings, and was the center of attention in the courts. Though, a lot of the time, this meant he was leashed to the castle and the castle grounds, as his security was very important. He didn’t mind. After all, he could just slip out with Cassius when he felt like it, and everything would be fine. Besides, there was little he could find in town that he didn’t have at home… but the change of scenery was nice.

“I wish to visit this shop, you may wait outside for me,” he said, suddenly turning and making his way into some shop. He didn’t bother to see if Cassius had obeyed the command, the man was a loyal dog.
A bell at the top of the door tinkled to sing the presence of new customers, ringing again when the door was closed. Instantly, the smell of polish and leather assaulted his nose. And yet… it wasn’t a bad scent… it was just very strong. Shoes lined the store, along with a couple of stools scattered towards the corners of the room. A blank counter stood, currently unattended, though hidden noises were audible from the back room. No matter, the shoe slave who worked in the shop could take his time. The Prince was in no rush. He continued to run an eye of scrutiny over the interior, deciding that the establishment was rather run down and in need of repairs. A section of the ceiling looked like it was on its last legs, and one part obviously dripped when the weather was rainy.

Sighing gently, the Prince raised slender fingers to his brow, brushing a staying lock of blond hair from his eyes. The action was rather meaningless, as the silky strands simply fell back into place, the cut styled so bangs framed the curve of his face, the hair towards the back swooping into a fine point at the back of his neck. His complexion was a healthy peaches and crème, and boasted that noble heritage. Unmarred and flawless, that refined air about him was only enhanced by the sleek shape of his jaw, slender and scholarly. The eyes he cast about the shop were a steely blue with a critical look about them, slightly narrowed as he pursed soft pink lips. The Prince held his noise slightly raised in the air, as though literally looking down his nose at the interior of the store.
His own clothing was very noble, not bothering to hide the fact that he was of a wealthy and old heritage. The undershirt he wore was made of white cotton with a dark blue jacket hugging his trim, fit torso. Coat tails fell at the back, and the trimming was gold, matching the shade of his hair. His trousers were of the same blue cloth, tucked into polished black boots that came to his shins and white gloves graced his fingers.

Idly, Cerwin tapped his foot as he looked around the shop, the shape of his guard’s body catching his eye from outside the window. Hah, perhaps he should have invited the poor man in. After all, Cassius would feel at home here, being someone who did a lot of his own work; fixing the horses’ tack. Though, then again… perhaps it was a good thing he had left him to stand outside, the Prince turning his head when he heard the footsteps of the shop attendant, his narrowed gaze landing on the youth who entered the room.

“Sorry, I herd you come in, I just had some business to finish up,” the shop boy said with a warm smile. His tone was pleasing to the ear, sounding of smooth honey, relaxed and rich, like he had just walked out of a warm bath. Though, there was probably a reason for that. Sable had had an average day. Nothing extra ordinary happened; in fact, he had spent the best part of his time in the back room mending shoes and daydreaming. His father had left a few hours a go with promises of returning with food for lunch. The youth never went out often, and he supposed this was because his father had claimed that he had been born sickly. Even today, his health wasn’t the best, and he rarely over-exerted himself. Still, he had a slender, serene look about him; though, his work-worn fingers, the tips a little stained and dirty from working with leather all day, contrasted his refined look. His light blond hair, too, looked a little darker and smokier from his laboured life. Despite this, he still had a quiet appeal about him, an air of patience hovering around him. His jaw line was sleek, and could be labeled a little feminine, his nose an elegant slope that ended in a neat, gentle point. His eyes were a greyer blue than the new customer’s, yet their complexion showed some similarities, hindered by the dirt on Sable’s form.
His clothing was simple. A grey, stained cotton shirt with canvas trousers and sturdy, homemade leather shoes.

The young Prince found the shoe slave far from an eyesore, halting his critical judgement of the worn shop for a moment to run his eyes over the other youth, a quiet look of awe developing on his face. For one, he got the feeling he had met the other somewhere before, or had at least seen him somewhere. And yet, Cerwin couldn’t recall ever stepping foot in this shop ever. However, there was certainly something about the set of his jaw and the look of his face that made him seem familiar to him. Not only that, but the quaint shoesmith look was one that appealed to him… that look of naiveté about him that was oh, so endearing. Surely… there would be nothing wrong in indulging himself a little.

Sable studied the form before him with a careful, nonchalant eye, arching a brow at the aura of nobility around the customer. It was very rare to see someone with such a well-held, commanding posture in the shop. Even the coat tails that fell from his pristine jacket moved as though the noble had control over them. He was a person to be obeyed. The dirty blond youth remembered his manners then and smiled a polite smile. “Good day, Sir. How many I help you?”

The question was met with quiet, the Prince taking his time to answer. It only occurred to him that this peasant hadn’t figured out who he was addressing, a knowing smirk barely gracing his face. “Tell me…” he said after the pause, readjusting his posture as he approached the counter, “Are shoes the only service you offer here? I can’t imagine the revenue being all that much.”

Rudeness was something Sable was familiar with, parrying the forward question with the same polite smile. “Yes, shoes are our only source of income. We get by and live a comfortable life. Thank you for your concern, Sir.”

Cerwin’s smirk faded a little at the flat answer, inching a little closer to the counter, placing gloved fingers on the surface. He reaffirmed a stronger predatory look on his face and said to the shoe slave, “Really? That’s a pity… because I think you could increase your income tenfold by offering… other services.”

There was another pause while Sable tried to figure out what ‘other services’ encompassed, a look of confusion passing over his face before he blushed with realization. Was this noble flirting with him?
That was so… improper.
“I-I, um, Sir, I state against that shoes are the only service we offer. Or will offer. Ever,” he said with a polite firmness, taking a step backwards. The smile was lost for an expression of mild shock that he couldn’t shake, blinking at the face he found frighteningly familiar. Maybe this noble had been to the shop previously after all. But, no, he would have remembered someone like this, right?

Was it really Cerwin’s fault for acting this way? It wasn’t as though the Prince got to indulge in his secret liking for the same gender. Among the courts, to openly flirt with another male was social suicide, especially for a royal. Besides, here and now, who was going to tell? Who would believe this commoner if he claimed that a noble had flirted with him?
If Cassius had any inklings towards what was going on inside, it wasn’t like he would gossip. If he did, he’d be the biggest hypocrite Cerwin knew. After all, he had seen the guard locked in a wrongful embrace some time again behind the guardhouse. “A pity,” Cerwin said with a slight purr, “Because I really think you could make quite… a lot…” As he spoke he meandered around the counter, no barrier between the lion and the antelope. Sable seemed to sense the attacker coming, turning to face him as he inched backwards.

“R-Really, Sir, I doubt you could convince me without running your… i-idea past my father,” Sable stumbled, raising his hands in defense, that calm demeanour now gone. He couldn’t stop the advancing rich man, eventually bumping into the wall, Cerwin continuing to approach him. With a soft whimper, he shut his eyes and waited for whatever was going to happen to him, it wasn’t like he had much of a say in the matter anymore, and there was no one to call for help. He could almost hear the smirk on Cerwin’s face, tensing. Maybe he was going to get hit? He knew that the noble was only one step away, feeling his presence thick in the air. Sable realized that his breath had started to become laboured as he counted out the seconds in his head. However, he gasped when he felt gloved fingers dance along the line of his jaw, heart thumping loudly in his chest at the gentle, burning tingle the brief touch sent over his skin. Fearful grey blue eyes snapped open to meet the hungry, narrowed gaze of Cerwin, realizing that he was much, much closer than he wanted him to be.

Cerwin couldn’t help himself. The submissive, quivering, desirable way the shoe slave looked at him was one he couldn’t resist, smirking as he inched closer, unable to help himself. Sable just looked so very, very… delicious. The gloved hand he had placed on the commoner’s jaw grew stronger, slipping higher to comfortable rest with the tips of his fingers brushing against the strands of his hair. The glossy shine on his lips beckoned him closer, knowing deep down that this was what Sable wanted. Gently, gently, he slipped a knee between Sable’s thighs, parting his lips and tilting his head to meet his lips-

The tinkle of the bell had Cerwin snapping backwards like the commoner had burnt him, jerking away to see an older man enter the shop. He tried to remain composed as he tamed his hand to his side, smiling at the new person. “I was just helping him remove some dirt from his eye,” he explained. The statement was met with a look of confusion, the older man having missed the one-sided intimate moment between the two boys, the aging person blinking once before nodding his head, “I, uh, I see.”

Thank god! His father had saved him just in time! Sable sighed out and pulled himself from the wall, saying a very weak, “Decklin, welcome home.”

Decklin, ‘father’ to Sable as well as the owner of the shop, didn’t hear his ‘son’. While Sable hadn’t recognized who the customer was, Decklin sure had. Not only that, he also knew what the two boys were in relation to one another, the older man’s face paling considerably. Did they know who they were to one another? Had they made the connection? It didn’t seem so… yet, one couldn’t be too careful. “Sable,” he grunted, his look darkening slightly, “Have you tended to our customer?”

Ohfuck. The tone of his father’s voice made him blush and jump to false conclusions. He had seen the two of them. How could not have seen the noble hitting on him? His father was going to disown him for liking men when he hadn’t even been a part of the flirting. “N-No, I haven’t attended to our customer,” he murmured, his cheeks flaring, his chin hiding in his chest, eyes staring at the floor. How embarrassing…

Cerwin merely smiled, “Do not be angry at the young apprentice,” he said lightly, over-compensating with his voice for the compromising position he had been in with the other youth. “I merely want to service my boots. Ah, here, I shall purchase a pair from you to wear to my home.” He hastened to a rack of well made, yet scrappy boots and picked out a pair at random – probably one size too big, and perched himself on a stool to remove his own boots and replace them for the scrappier ones.

To Sable, the boots the noble had looked brand new, and didn’t need servicing at all. In fact, he opened his mouth to say so when his father gave a quiet grunt, a signal that his son should stay quiet. So, idly, he waited behind the counter for the customer to finish lacing the new boots, eyeing him warily as he approached him to hand over the boots to be serviced….
…
As well as a giant pouch of coins that could probably buy all of the shoes in the store. “S-Sir!” Sable exclaimed, staring at Cerwin wide-eyed, but was embarrassingly silenced with a gloved finger pressed against his lips.

“I expect them tomorrow morning, I shall return then and-“ But Decklin cut the Prince off, saying sternly. “Do not worry, your majesty, I shall have them delivered to your quarters.” If the Prince was intending to return to the shop, he needed to send word to the King immediately. Perhaps a premature meeting of the unknowing brothers would be best. The elder male stilled his heart and his head, nodding slowly. “Sabe, take his majesty’s boots and go to the back room. We shall share a meal.” He tried his best to control the shake in his voice, yet everything seemed to be unraveling too soon. The King would know what to do. He would send a message off this eve.

Sable’s head was reeling as he obeyed his father, meekly taking the shoes and retreating back into the store without another look at the P-Prince. Oh god! The Prince had flirted with him! Oh god! He had acted so… so rudely towards him, he hadn’t even addressed him by his title… The Prince had flirted with him! The Prince had toyed around with him and used him for fun. His father was going to be so angry with him, for not acting properly in front of a member of royalty. No wonder he had sounded so angry! Argh! The Prince had flirted with him! And… he had rather… liked it a little. But, but it wasn’t his fault! His father had never let him go to the galas celebrating the nobles, or any parades for the royals or anything. He had always told him to finish his work, because a working man got paid. Though, unknown to him, this was a guise to keep him away from his blood brother. Yet unfortunately, they had met anyway.

He heard the P-Prince thank his father and leave the shop, his father only joining him in the back when he was sure Cerwin was gone. He braced himself for the telling off he was going to receive, closing his eyes again as he waited for some kind of rebuke. He loved his father, he did… he was a good man, but one that believed in discipline.
That was why he was so surprised when the usually gruff man took him into a hug, Sable wrinkling his nose a little at the smell of sweat and work, looking quite taken a back when his father murmured. “Son, you know… you know that you are the best thing to happen to this family, don’t you?”

Sable smiled and wriggled out of the awkward hug, offering his father a quirked smile, unsure laughter lacing his words, “Yes, yes I know father. Why do you say?” There was a long, long pause, the boy becoming a little worried as the silence stretched out and his father continued to stare at him with sad eyes, like his son was off to war. And then, Sable knew that something wasn’t right. Something had happened that was going to change some dynamic in their household. “F-…Father?” The boy gripped Decklin’s arm, watching him wide-eyed, “Decklin, are you ill? Are you sickly? Am I sickly? Am I going to… d-die?” Hah. The boy really needed to stop jumping to conclusions.

Decklin patted his ‘son’s’ head gently and laughed a deep laugh. “No, no one’s dying, Sabe. Don’t you worry your head about it. Nothing’s… Nothing bad is happening. But, tomorrow… you may want to scrub up this evening, and lay out some good close for the morning. I have a feeling we may… need them tomorrow-“

Rudely, Sable cut him off, querying, “Is it something to do with the Prince? Prince Cerwin? What? Did he do something? Father, tell me. I am seventeen now. You can tell me. That was him, wasn’t it? Our customer? Is he angry with me? I’m so sorry. I had no idea who he was but… but that isn’t my fault, father. You never let me see him when the King and the Prince came into town. How was I to know what he looked like? I have only ever heard of him. Father? Are we in trouble?”

“Enough! Aye, son. Enough questions,” Decklin smiled sadly. “Nothing is wrong, I said. We are not in trouble. Don’t you worry about it. Just leave this with me, and I shall see to it. Now. You may start eating, for I have an errand I must run before I can relax. I forgot to send an urgent letter to someone…”