The First Born

BY : God_Of_Death
Category: X-men Comics > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 3440
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

It was a long and boring coach ride from Shereborne to Sussex. The coach pulled up to the gates at the latest of hours and opened the door for the passengar in the long black cloak and hood to get out and walk to the door. Dusting off the material, the passengar waited for the driver to knock on the door before payment.

The driver was a silent man, greying and wrinkling much too fast in age. He was short and very scrawny but held his own in leading the four mighty horses, let alone carrying two heavy trunks full of clothes, shoes and personal assesment for his only passenger. He waited until the door was opened and a man in flowing red, yellow and purple robes ushered them in. Dragging the trunks carelessly behind him, eventhough he was specifically told to be careful with them, he walked with a limp as he followed his fare inside. The great hall they stood in was beyond extravagant in size and beauty. Tall stone pillars marked every three wide and shiny marble squares on the floor. Drapes flowed with breezes from tall windows, and the ceiling itself seemed as tall as the sky. Lanterns and torches brightened each dark corner and flickered as the breezes passed by.

"Fantastic, fantastic, you are here at last, my dear. Come, come in and I shall show you to your room." A taller, thin man came out from the left, behind a long shimmering curtain to meet his cloaked guest. Feltebeirn was a man of moderate age and had taken most of the chores all too seriously. The driver was paid and waved away as Feltebeirn clasped his hands together and smiled beamingly at the figure in the cloak and hood, whom hadn't moved to removed it. "You must be exhausted after your long journey. Please, come in and rest in your new home, child."

A long and winding staircase with a slow, elegant rise was spread out in front of them and seemed more work than it let on. Feltebeirn went first, followed by the cloaked figure, and four commonly but clean servants to follow them. Taking it upon himself to spill out various facts about the castle, Feltebeirn was oblivious to the small voice behind him asking where the Lord of the castle was. Instead, he babbled on about the stones being carried one by one, over from New Foundland more than 100 years prior.

Their footstpes in the halls echoed and finally stopped as Feltebeirn came to a stop before two great mahogony wood doors with brilliant gold trim on the designs that curled around the middle. "Here, my child, is your new quarters. My servant girls and cooks have done their best in filling your room with all the comforts of Shereborne. The finest silks in all of England line your bed while only the softest of furs line your floors." He opened the doors and stepped to the right so that his guest may enter the room. "The finest oils have been selected for your bath and private enjoyment." With a wave of his hand he silently directed the trunks be placed off to the right and the servants to hastily leave as he finished his conversation with the guest. "Tell me, child. Do you wish a bath before your retire? My lord is gone to bed but I will ring the maids to cleanse you, if you wish." with hands still clasped together, Feltebeirn stared at the back of the black cloak but brightened as their hands were raised and the hood lowered.

The guest hadn't moved from staring at the rather large bed of pillows and silks, to the left of them. Reaching up and pulling the long tresses of auburn out from under the cloak, they turned around to ask again the same question they had repeated three times. "When do I see the Lord?"

Feltebeirn's eyes widened and his jaw dropped open. He was speechless for a moment until he regained his composure and blinked several times to get a clear view of the person before him. "Good heavens." He exclaimed before the shock had worn off. "I'm terribly sorry. Are you not the first born child of King Jean-Luc?" He had said it as if hoping he was right and the coachman made a mistake.

"Yes. Prince Remy." The young, flawless man smiled and watched as the elder man looked him up and down while walking around him in a circle. "Somethin the matter?"

Feltebeirn smiled. "Slightly. You see, you're a-- a-- a boy. And tomorrow, the Lord-- oh dear. The Lord will be furious when he finds out." Waving his hands in the air and patting Remy's left shoulder, the man shook his head and turned to walk Remy back to the doors. "We've got to get you out of here. This is no place for you. Tomorrow, the Lord expects to see you for breakfast. And when he finds out that you're a--"

"Prince." Remy stopped and shook the man's hands off of his cloak.

"Yes. Yes. Terribly sorry, your highness. But, you see, you cannot stay here."

Remy persed his lips, controlling his anooyance at the mishap. "Where am I ta go? You've sent the coach away." He replied calmly eventhough his fading patience was quickly evaporating. "What is this all about? T'ree days ago, I was placed in a carriage of the most unpleasant nature, I arrive here, only ta find out that I'm not what was ordered. I demand an explanation."

"No no no. There is much too much to tell. There isn't enough time before the Lord wakes for his morning business." Feltebeirn had intended on waving the story away however, he changed his mind as Remy's arms folded about his chest and a thin maroon shoe tapped on the bare marble tile of the entryway. Dropping his shoulders and sighing as he glanced at the floor, the man waved Remy over to the bed and sat him down on the edge as he explained. "You see, my boy, err- sire. My Lord was called upon to save your father's kingdom from a terrible war. Your father and my Lord fought side by side, ridding the kingdom from the evil that had ensued from long before your father's birth. As return payment, my Lord asked only for the hand of their first born daughter. But, seeing as how you are here, I suspect something went afoul in your father's end of the bargain." Sighing again as his explanation had left Remy the slightest unsatisfied, he shrugged and wrung his hands in worry over how his Lord would react.

His hands sat very calm and still in his lap, and his eyes lay very steadily on Feltebeirn. "My mother passed away when I was born. That's why there is no daughter. Father is no' one to back out of an agreement so, he sent me in hopes that the Lord would forgive the mistake." Sullen face stared straight at Feltebeirn, sizing him and waiting for the decision to sort it all out in the morning.

Nodding, Feltebeirn agreed and turned away from the young face of the Prince who was tired and dusty from the long ride. "Very well, my young lord. I will fetch the maids for your bath, if you choose?" He turned back to see Remy casually nod and sigh with tired strain. "Rest well, highness. I shall call on you the hour before dawn."

Continued.


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