The First Born

By mid day, Logan was pacing nervously in the grand hall. His head was bent and his hands were placed behind his back as the back of his right hand tapped against the palm of his left. His breathing became heavy through his nose and he glanced up, every so often, to see if anyone was in the hall with him and the several chamber guards who stood in the shadows along the walls. Another turned and he came to a stop while facing the far off double doors. A moment passed before he turned to his right and stared at the first of the guards, and the one who stood closest to the door. "Fetch my feeble-minded counselor, Feltebeirn!" He had had enough of waiting and pacing when his counsel entertained his guest.

"Sir." Came the guard's heavy and loud voice. He was a Northerner from Yorkshire, which made his accent thick and unruly in ways of making it next to impossible to understand. A short man with long, ponytailed fire red hair, as well as a bushy red mustache planted firmly on his round and grisly face that was offset by his deep blue eyes and his elf-like ears. Ebony armor that shined in certain light and blood red material to soften the impact of metal on skin. In his left hand he held a long spear with a gold arrowhead as a point, his only weapon when he did not carry his sword. The arrowhead, like it's owner, appeared ragged and worn but in the heat of battle, it became a mighty weapon to pierce and serate like an opener to a can.

The guard's heavy footsteps rang loudly down the corridors and up narrow steps to the hall where the counselor had been most of the morning. A bare fist on it's side banged on the door to Remy's chambers. "Counselor, his majesty wishes your presence in the grand hall!" He yelled through the door and listened.

Inside the room, Feltebeirn was starting to panic. "Now, my young sire, do you remember everything?" Wringing his hands and taking two steps before walking back and turning again. He had been explaining his quick thinking to Remy to get out of the fix they were in, when time ran out.

"Oui." Remy sat calmly on the bed and watched the man pace with mild annoyance. He hadn't moved from the spot since he sat down and Feltebeirn began walking around the room and telling random idea after idea of what to do.

Feltebeirn stopped and smoothed back his mussed hair with his hands before swallowing and moving towards the door. "Good." He stopped again as he came to the door and turned back to give Remy one last once over before turning again to open the door. "I shall be back momentarily, sire." He inhaled and held his breath a second as he opened the door and greeted the guard with a nod before closing the door behind him and leading the armored guard back down to Logan.

*******

Logan had continued to pace the grand hall, footsteps thumping loudly on the marble tile. He was fuming until he saw the guard bringing back the head counselor. "Well, where is she?" Logan stopped his pacing and met his guard and counselor halfway. "Fingerbread, if I have to go up there and drag her down--"

"Calm yourself, sire. Any act of aggression might result in war." Feltebeirn spoke calmly eventhough he was at a loss of casual emotions. He stood still with his hands clasped in front of him, and blinked at Logan as he waited for the lord's retraction.

His majesty huffed and turned away to storm back to his throne. "How can I frighten her when she hasn't even seen me?" Logan stopped thirty feet from them and turned back to face Feltebeirn. "Is she ill? Contageous? Shall I have the physician see her? If the child is unwell, I will not send her back home in her fragile condition." Feeling as though he should give up and send her back, Logan placed it upon himself to right the situation as best he could before giving up completely. Wringing his hands as he grasped at ideas and glancing every now and then at his counselor, Logan was becoming quite anxious and longed for action.

Feltebeirn balanced his thoughts and studied his master's expression before he spoke the answer he chose. "You see, my lord, it is a delicate situation to approach. There is no reason for alarm, just yet but there has been an accident and I am on the verge of correcting the mistake so that you may resume your plans for marriage." A slight miscalculation in his words had sent Logan to tilt his head in question as he stepped forward. "No harm has come, I assure you, your majesty. The child is safe and well taken care of." He sighed in relief as Logan paused.

"I wish to see for myself, and meet my bride that doesn't wish to bat an eye at me." Pressing past the counselor, Logan led the way up to the guest room where Remy impatiently waited. He was followed by Feltebeirn who continuously babbled reasons of why he shouldn't go any farther but Logan ignored him and only walked faster. As he reached the top of the stairs, he had started to walk more briskly to the chamber door. Coming to a stop, he caught himself about to throw the doors open and walk in unannounced. Taking a deep, slow breath, Logan knocked on the door and listened.

"Sire.."

"Shut up." Not turning around, Logan leaned closer to the door to hear better. The doors in the palace were thicker than originally, which made Logan more happy as he hated loud noises when he was trying to sleep. Drawing himself back, he pounded on the great door before reaching for the handle and wrenching it open.

*******

Remy's eyes widened as he sat there, frozen on the bed. A pang surged a shudder out of him and was to his feet, dodging left into the cover of the dressing screen. Heart now pounding in his chest as loud footsteps made their way to him. His mouth fell open with heavy breaths while his eyes widened no shallower.

"Sire, your temper. Mustn't upset your guest." Feltebeirn pleaded from behind Logan.

The insatiable anger in the lord's composure escaped some small bit and wafted over to Remy's senses. The thudding of his heart against his ribcage worried the young prince into thinking it was able to be heard throughout the room. His eyelids felt too heavy as he blinked and stared at the far end of the room.

Logan's rage subsided in an unwilling attempt to calm himself before his unseen guest. "My counselor informs me that you are not well, yet you take to no bed." Hearing the heartbeat thumping behind the screen, he stared at the spot where the person stood. "I have no resentment of the stories he might have told you for I'm sure they are disdainfully true." He turned to the right, as Remy had, and started walking to the end of the screen before stopping again and speaking. "To assume I would ever put your life in jeopardy without reason might be brash, to say the least. But, for him to keep you from me, is brasher still."

As if hearing Remy's movements as they happened, Logan reached out and grabbed a thin, raised wrist and pulled the figure out from behind the cover. Clutching the wrist with less than bruising strength, the lord's eyes opened wide in astonishment at the body that fell to their knees and screamed in pain. He took a breath as he released the figure and stumbled back, into the arms of his counselor. "How--? Y-you are--?! No!" Moving away from the hands that held to him, and standing on his own two feet, Logan continued to stare at the slim boy on his knees.

Bent on his knees and clutching his throbbing wrist, the young prince stared upward in shock and horror of the man who proclaimed to be lord. Eyes no less wide than his host's, he remained on the floor, thinking that any movement might establish wrath against him or his kin.

"Sire, as I've tried mercifully to explain.... this is Prince Remy of Shereborne. You see, his mother had only one child before passing from us. Not wanting to back out on his promise, King Jean-Luc sent the boy here to hopefully straighten everything out." Feltebeirn smiled uneasily as the cloak of untruth had finally been lifted. Erasing the smile as he took a closer look at Logan's face, he stepped closer to the man. "My lord....?"

A deep sigh heaved in Logan's lungs, heavy with embarrassment and strain of offering for something that would never come. "Foolishness." A whisper that passed his lips in a mournful audity and forced his chest to tighten as the realization overcame him. "Your attempts to hide this unfortunate dilemma only served to bring to light what can never occur. Feltebeirn, have the young prince packed and send back my sympathies to his father of my idiocies." He spoke to the couselor without turning to see him but, his eyes remained focused on the boy who knelt before him. "Forgive an old, foolish man, young liege. I will have the carriage awaiting you in the dawn's light. My counselor will see to your food and drink this night." Not another word was uttered as Logan retreated from the room and made his way silently to his own chambers where he spent the remainder of the evening and night.

Remy blinked, shocked at the outpour of emotions that ran off his host like wailing tears. He stood and trembled in the wake as Feltebeirn and the guard stood next to him. "Had hoped for somethin different but, never imagined my presence would do that. Will the lord be all right?" Staring at the open door, Remy brushed himself off at the arms.

"My lord? I imagine he is by all means in shock of your appearance but, yes. My lord will find his wounds will heal in time." His voice was soft and compassionate to his absent lord's feelings, nonetheless, he was eager to see Remy heading back to Shereborne for Logan to start moving on.

Continued.