The First Born

Remy knocked on his door at three quarters past the next hour. The words tumbled over in his head on what he wanted to say to make things right. He knocked again when no answer came and harder still again after that. "Sire, I wish to speak with you." His fist pounded again on the large oak door. "Father sent me here ta talk wit' you about why dere is no bride for you!" When still no answer came, he decided to tell his side through the door, feeling Logan stand just on the other side listening. "My mother died! Was too traumatic for her dat she had me so, she died an' left us alone! Father sent me to explain but everytime I try, I-" Stepping back as the door swung open into the room and Logan stood before him, waiting for the rest of the explanation.

"You got scared and held your tongue so I could make a fool of myself." Logan was angry but his rage was contained to only himself as he blamed only him for the fiasco. He had changed from his robes into a plain white tunic and black pants. Crossing his arms and forcing himself to remain as calm as possible in front of the young Prince as if it were him who led the confusion.

Blinking blankly and stepping forward, as a sigh was barely audible before Remy could speak. "Last night I arrived and I had asked where you were. I was informed dat you were sleepin and we could resolve this in de morning. When dawn came, I was rushed about to hide from you an' after witnessin your temper...." He stopped as Logan sighed heavily and hung his head. "This was not supposed to be a witch hunt."

Logan hadn't wanted to hear anymore. Turning and walking away from the young lord while shaking his head and mumbling, Logan tried to be as hushed as he could. "The carriage will be here in the morning to take you back. I will not keep you here if you have no wish to stay." He sat down on the corner of the bed, his room was darkened as he had pulled the shades to sulk.

"If you send me back so soon, my father will think dat this is war." Remy still stood at the doorway and raised his voice for Logan to understand him clearly. He didn't dare enter the room as knowing a small fraction of Logan's anger, he thought it best to wait until invited. "If you an' my father are friends and comrades, you will wait to send me back with dis news."

"All right, you can stay. I'll let Featherbrain know my decision before nightfall." Not liking it but agreeing for the sake of an old friendship, Logan waved the Prince away. "Feel free to wander about the castle with my chief of guards. He'll show you everything you could want to see."

Remy nodded and shrugged. "Thought perhaps de lord would show me around...?" Biting his lip, he gave a hopeful look to the darkened lord of the kingdom. "Perhaps we can talk about you an' my father? Please?"

The ball was now fully in Logan's court and he was reluctant to observe it. He sighed and stared curiously at the young man in the doorway.

***********

As they strolled through the courtyard, Logan pointed out several spots that Remy might enjoy on his visit. "There is a pond just beyond the clearing, outside of the keep. You are welcome to swim, walk, ride my best horses along those roads, as well as wander my courtyards. The village people are pleasant and loyal." Logan had placed his hands behind him, careful not to touch the young lord as he had before. He took Remy through the small village and nodded and smiled at each of the villagers as they bowed and smiled up at them.

"This is so different from our kingdom. Father would have an escort as I walked; at least four guards." Remy smiled at one lady, who in turn, smiled back and courtsied low as he passed.

Logan looked over at him with a curious quip. "I had no idea Jean-Luc was under such restrictions." They stopped long enough for him to look over and see the sorrow in Remy's face.

Remy didn't look at his host right away but started to explain as he watched two children- brother and sister- run across the roadway and latch themselves onto the sides of their mother as she hung up the wash. "Father and the kingdom of Chester have been at a standstill as the young king claims to have won me in battle against the Welsh. He came to my aid as my carriage was attacked by bandits while on my way back to my kingdom. I spent de night with him and now, he is claiming to have me in his services."

"What service is that?" Logan raised an eyebrow.

Remy inhaled. "Much like what you were expecting from me, had I been a fille." He paused as the baker of the shoppe they stopped in front of peered out his door and waited for Logan to wave him forward before continuing.

The clothes the baker, and most of the villagers, were relatively in perfect condition. He was splattered with dusting flour and hot from the ovens but had sliced a loaf of sourdough and held the wooden tray up for them. "My lord, and sire," Eyeing Remy and bowing for both. "I have just baked this bread for you, in honor of our guest. Please, have a slice for your journey back to the palace." He was a man in his early 40s, with flour covered brown hair and walked with a limp of his right leg. Not looking at either of them but smiling as Remy and then Logan each took a small portion of the round loaf.

"Merci, Monsieur baker." Remy smiled and nibbled at the piece.

Logan thanked him as well before they continued back to the palace steps. They sat down on the mid-way stair and finished their talk as they nibbled on bread. His feeling of foolishness had started to fade away after what Remy had shared. "I will not keep you here against your will, and I make no claim to you, if you don't agree." He said it after a long silence, with time to finish their bread and stare at the sun as it began its descent into the horizon. "I am an old man, tired and lonely. Your father was kind enough to give me hope to end my solitude but now I see it is just a dream."

Finishing the bite in his mouth, Remy looked over at the man who sat to his right. "If I may stay longer, I would like to help end your loneliness."

Logan smiled. "I'm afraid it would take much more than just companionship. I need to have an heir to continue my line." Eyeing the young man next to him, he continued. "A woman is needed for more than just to be on my arm. If I die in battle and there is no heir, or he is too young yet, she must take my place on the throne and rule as I have until our son is old enough to be crowned ruling Prince. It was actually your mother's idea that my payment should be a wife. It was my idea that I picked their first born daughter."

"To be welcome in our family?"

Logan let his sigh answer for him in ways his words would only confuse. He stared at the horizon and could feel Remy's eyes washing over him but had no desire to see what judgement they held. The townspeople hurried to their homes but stopped and bowed or waved to Logan as he would wave or nod back to them, he smiled as the small children tried to mimic their parent's actions but ended up hiding their stumbles.

A soft smile quirked on Remy's lips as he watched the people wave and smile and then watched Logan's reaction. When they were all in their homes, his mind wandered over thoughts of staying here as this life was so much different than his kingdom. People were friendlier and Logan- himself- was just the opposite as Feltebeirn had imaged. On a dare with himself, he slipped his hand into Logan's as it rested on the space of stone between them.

Logan turned immediately to stare at their hands and then to the warm smile Remy wore. "You'd stay?"

"I'll stay but I refuse to be a woman." Squeezing Logan's hand lightly and turning back to the sunset of golden oranges and pale blues and yellows with a hint of soft violets, he inhaled and his body tingled as Logan returned the gesture.

*********

They had talked and laughed all through dinner, breaking protocols but enjoying themselves and each other's company. Logan sat at the head of the table while Remy took the seat to the left. They feasted on rum-marinated pig and duck with plenty of fruits and breads from the baker's shoppe. Glasses remained full until the wine ran out and both were too full to replenish it.

At the end of the meal, Feltebeirn stood at the far end of the long oak table and awaited instructions. He smiled to himself with seeing Logan wearing a constant smile and laugh but also seemed confused at who he was laughing and carrying on with. His attention was straight as they both stood up and bid each other good night. As the young prince paced himself toward the counselor, he turned. "Shall I escort you to your chambers, young sire?"

Remy smiled and shook his head. "Non, I'll find my way. Merci." Continuing down the lit hall and up the winding marble steps, he smiled and replayed the scenes from their meal.

"Sire?" Feltebeirn stood patiently and watched his master stretch from sitting too long. "Sire, is the young Prince to be sent away in the morning? The coach is ready and I have seen to it that an explanation for his return is awaiting your signature."

Logan finished stretching and yawned as he made his way over to the counselor. "The Prince stays."

"Stays, sire?" Feltebeirn asked in shock but quickly nodded and agreed as Logan flashed a firm look at him. "Yes, yes, sire. Of course the young master will stay but, what about your betrothel? The young master is feminine-like yes, but-"

"Don't make my judgements for me, Featherbrain." Logan firmed. "The decision to stay was his, as mine is what comes next. Send a letter to his father explaining that his son will be my guest for as long as he sees fit and explain that all is righted in the adventure for a queen." He started walking toward the steps with Feltebeirn following on his heels.

Feltebeirn bowed and agreed in the action. "Yes sire. At once, sire." He could only wonder why the boy was staying when Logan's only goal was to have a bride and mate, not befriend a prince. His mind and thoughts crept darker as he followed his master to his chambers and helped ready the lord for bed.

Logan shifted down into the covers and sighed as he relaxed into the bed. "Make sure the Prince has a bath drawn and see to his comforts, if he asks. Good night, counselor."

"Good night sire." Feltebeirn tucked Logan in one last time before standing up. "Sire, wouldn't his father become curious as to why the Prince remains here?"

There wasn't an answer, only soft breathing as Logan had fallen asleep and rolled away from him.

Sighing, Feltebeirn left quietly and headed for Remy's chambers to fetch what the young lord needed.


tbc.