The True Northern King - James

Chapter 1

Note: This is a darker fantasy, not following the "typical" dragon plots.

Be aware of described violence, k*dnapping, abuse, slavery and death.

I was a bit confused when I first saw my younger brother. Why exactly did we need him? Yet, as my father lifted me from the floor and brought me closer, I found myself smiling. I wasn’t sure why. I still didn’t understand why he was here, especially since my parents already had me, but I couldn’t help it. He was my younger brother, after all.

“You might be the next king, James, but you’re also an older brother now. It’s your job to look after him,” my father told me.

I looked up at him and smiled. Yes, I would look after him. However, my responsibilities only seemed to grow, because not long after Will arrived, we found ourselves with a third brother—Henry. And as more brothers came into this life, my job just kept expanding. But I quickly understood my role, especially when I found my siblings arguing over something silly like a toy or who was faster.

I had to step in, break it up, and make sure we all stayed friends. At the moment, it was Henry and Carter who were fighting over something as trivial as who would play the villain and who would play the hero in their game.

Will was walking right behind me as I approached the two of them on the large grassy area. Will always followed me around. He had since we were kids, but I didn’t really mind. He never spoke much anyway, and we often had the same lessons.

“I’ve played the villain three times now!” Carter complained.

“Too bad. I’m the oldest, so I get to decide!” Henry retorted.

“So, being older means you always get to decide?”

He had only just turned four, and there were just two years between them. It was quite amusing to listen to their argument, but I masked my smile—after all, a king must never openly show his emotions.

“Exactly!” Henry declared, crossing his arms with a smug grin.

Carter, who was often the one to act superior despite being younger, replied with, “You’re such a clodpoll!”

Henry looked at him, appearing confused. “What does that mean?” he inquired.

Carter just smiled and lifted his chin. I had no idea what that word meant either, but I knew he must have read it somewhere and was just waiting for an opportunity to use it.

“Why don’t you open a book and find out?” Carter said smugly. “Oh wait, you don’t read.”

Carter always acted much older than his age, and it was not strange to hear him talk like this.

“You little—”

“That’s enough!” I intervened.

I stepped between them before Henry could throw himself at Carter. Henry was someone who liked to resort to his fists once words failed him, and this wasn’t the first time I had stopped him from starting a fight.

“You both are acting like clodpolls,” I said.

Carter and Henry both looked down at the ground, their heads turned slightly, clearly afraid to meet my eyes. I didn’t want my brothers to be scared of me. I just wanted them to get along. It was my job to take care of them, and like Father always said, there was nothing more important than family.

“He’s the one who always wants to kill me,” Carter muttered.

Henry just smiled, but I shot them both a stern look that made them drop their gazes back to the ground.

“Maybe if you asked nicely, you could switch roles,” I suggested to Carter.

“Yes, maybe if you did!” Henry chimed in.

I turned to Henry and crossed my arms.

“Don’t think you’re any better,” I said. “You need to learn to share.”

“But I don’t want to be killed!”

“Too bad! Now, apologize to each other.”

They both looked down at the ground in silence. Henry scratched at something on the wooden sword he was holding, while Carter kicked a small stone away.

“Now!” I said firmly.

They glanced at each other before mumbling a very low apology.

“Louder, so I can hear you!”

“I’m sorry!” they both said loudly.

“Good. Now switch roles if you want to keep playing.”

They nodded, and Henry handed over his cape and sword. I smiled, pleased, and started to walk away, with Will right behind me.

“You don’t want to play with them?” I inquired.

“You never play,” he said.

“I have my duties,” I replied proudly.

“Then I do too.”

I just smiled. I knew he looked up to me. He always did what I did, ate what I ate, and dressed almost exactly like me, but I didn’t mind. Will wasn’t just my brother; he was the closest thing I had to a friend. It didn’t mean I wasn’t close with my other siblings, but Will just understood me better. He understood the kind of pressure I was under, even at such a young age.

“Come, let’s see if we can’t steal some sweets from the kitchen.”

Will would never admit he wanted to do something so childish, and he tried to hide the happiness in his eyes, but I knew he loved it. We snuck toward the kitchen and started making a plan.

“Okay, I’ll distract Liz. You go for the sweets as soon as she turns to me,” I said. “Remember… stay low.”

Will nodded as I placed my hand on his shoulder and pushed him lower. I smiled as I confidently walked into the kitchen, trying to look as if I was just hungry.

“Is there something I can help you with, little prince?” Liz asked when she saw me.

She was standing by a large counter, working on some dough. I smiled at her.

“I’m hungry. When will the food be ready?” I inquired politely.

“Soon, but you must wait until then,” she said, walking over to one of the pots from which a heavenly smell was emanating.

I followed her and peered into one of the pots, while out of the corner of my eye, I saw Will sneaking in, heading straight for the sweets.

“What are you making?” I inquired, feigning interest.

“A stew,” she replied. “It’s an old family recipe.”

“You don’t say.”

“Prince William! Get your dirty little hands off those cakes!” she suddenly yelled.

She spun around and caught my brother with a cake in his mouth and his arms full of them. Placing her hands on her hips, she gave him a stern look. I slowly began to back away… my plans usually worked, but you couldn’t always win.

“Don’t move, James!” she ordered.

Will and I glanced at each other, and then, as if we knew exactly what the other was thinking… we ran.

“You little thieves, come back here!” she yelled as we stormed out of the kitchen.

We were both laughing as we ran, not stopping until we reached the next floor, where no one seemed to be around. We looked at each other, and then Will handed me a cake, and we greedily started eating. We were both on our third when suddenly a soft voice spoke, “Stealing cakes again, I see.”

We both froze and slowly turned around, seeing our mother just a few steps away, watching us. At first, she gave us a stern look, but soon her emerald-green eyes sparkled with happiness, and she began to smile.

“Not going to share?” she inquired.

I smiled and handed her a cake, which she happily took. As we ate, she ran a hand over her belly. Our mother was pregnant again, and I knew another sibling would soon be under my protection.

“Delicious,” she said, patting both our heads before walking away.

She could never bring herself to scold us.