he is the true king. in nature, kind and fair. born in nobility, raised on the notions of fealty and love. Gold-haired, gold-eyed, golden-hearted. but he is not king, so he stands aside for his kin, half-brother in blood, but more in bond. he kneels before him, hails him as sire. Holds true to his vows. Ushers out council, and stands firmly with every unwise decree. Not once does he look back upon what could have been. And in the dark, when the fear and fevers overtake his brother, he grips his hand tight and utters urgent reassurances, warm and false. '--did what you must.' '--the only way.' '--the good of the kingdom.' The curled form on the bed, writhes and cries out and still he sits and keeps the lights burning until the sky lightens and heaves off its black mourning veil. Desperate whispers and white-knuckle grips ease, and sleep overtakes them both, one huddle on the bed, the other sits on the floor, sentinel even in slumber. And when they come for their lord, their king, his name on their tongues and blood on their hands, he spares him from their judgement as only he can. There's a brief struggle to untangle fingers and hands, but he is victorious. He tilts an anguished face upwards and press lips to his pale forehead. Hands slip downwards and the face dips forward and he finds a pulse and a throat and squeezes. A brief silence, a minutes time and now he's looking into a stranger's face, closed eyes, and blue lips. they hail him as hero, as king, thir cries echoing through the hallowed halls. - - - - - - - - - - - idk I just like sibling character who are creepily close?? this all sounded better last night when I was half asleep and wrote it
