A/N: Ok ... This is done? It is done! Here we are. This is my first fic, so I hope you enjoy it! I apologize in advance for possible mistakes, I'm French so I tear my hair to write and translate it correctly in English (and if you want to revise your French, you can read the same story in French !).

Preminger:

''Mirror and Dust''

There were many men to aim at the fame. But it was one among them, with whom the fate was going to mark the life of the whole kingdom. One, which we would still remember when the Crown would have seen itself given up(sold) to numerous successors. His name would stay in the spirits and his story also.
Nevertheless, even when he had climbed what he considered as the last front to mitigate some glory, a majority of the kingdom still ignored until even his appropriate existence. He was only " the adviser of the queen ", a personified title, acting according to the pure will of the ruler.

For those who knew his name without ever having perceived him, he was only the representation of certain images, certain ideas as established his job or his fame: the dedication, the intelligence and in a more negative way: the submission. "Councillors are servants ..." asserted certain contemptuously.

Those who had nevertheless had the opportunity to perceive him, didn't forget him. Maybe it was the manners, maybe it was clothes but he seemed like a small strange character, representing all which, in the nobility, could seem strange in the eyes of the people.
If the farmers wondered of his big toilet, the noble persons did the same.
He was small but it was enough that he appeared so that the attention settled on him. The daring associations of colors and sophistication caught the eye, his white and complex hairstyle amused.
And if we can observe him closely, it was the amber look which we held.

Reflected and cunning, his eyes got the attention and didn't release her any more, they seemed to want to capture her forever, and a moment became an eternity under this influence.
This look led to forget a face lengthened in the too long nose, in the high cheekbones and a too much pronounced pout.

Some found him beautiful others couldn't, bothered by something that they couldn't identify and which displeased them nevertheless.

Something that they would have described as of the slyness. Yes, according to some, there was slyness in these golden eyes.
And even those who were regularly next to him didn't finally reach to an unanimous opinion.

" A devoted man. "

" An upstart without the slightest taste. "

" Unquestionably, the most sophisticated man whom it had been possible to me to see. "

" Pleasant one eccentric. "

" A pedant strategist. "

" An intelligent and soft man. "
The indulgence crossed the contempt, the admiration met the distrust.

Maybe that he could be all these people at the same time.
Who could boast of knowing him really?
He always caused a reaction diversified at people.
It was only when everything was said that the whole kingdom really knew him.

Chapter 1:

The son of the peasant.

Erwin Preminger had been born in the indifference of the people, one evening of November wrapped by the mist, while the wind roared to under roofs. Near a little fed fire, risking at any time to give up the ghost. A noble of passage had inspired his first name to his father, who gloried to have by it given a kind of aristocratic impression to his son.
Contrary to certain children, he hadn't come into the world by roaring, but some witnesses agreed to say that his shouts looked like more sighs.
-''He will not cross the winter " had declared the neighbors by shaking the head. The lines of the young were too fine, the too frail members.
The father had wrinkled the fingers. " He will hold. " All the children of his family had been born in winter and all had surmounted him. This child wouldn't make an exception even though he had been endowed with a fragile nature. After all, himself, his father, wasn't endowed with this nature? " He will hold " he repeated in contemplating the child in the arms of his wife..

And the future had agreed with him. Long winter nights, jellies had begun roaring in their door and the child had crossed them, all. Every year.
-''He waits for many of the life his kid, Johan.'' Had commented a wrinkled neighbor.
The father had smiles, discovering his damaged teeth, to trust. They waited all for something, in their environment. Without the hope, the farmers were dying by the effect of their own work, it was the reality of their world.. But his son had something more: a passion for life. He had clung to the existence, the disease following disease, as eager for air, for flesh.
- ''Father'', he exclaimed generally, by embracing of his small frail body the paternal leg, as if this one could prevent the world from removing him.

-''I have something for you, close your eyes...''
Then the child closed them, excessively, pointlessly hardly to prove that he didn't cheat, and Johan took advantage of it to slide him an ear of corn in the hand. He laughed at the air amazed of his son.
-''That shines, it's very beautiful. It's as the sun !'' he exclaimed in his small childish voice by contemplating carefully the small stalk.
-''There are more beautiful things, my son. As the gold. Only the gold is beautiful as the sun.''
The gold. The gold this inaccessible treasure of the peasants: immediately obtained, immediately put back in tax collectors. Johan liked the gold, it was known of all. Johan would have probably killed for the gold. That had to go back to his back back grandfather, of whom we had always told him in the family, whom he had been the first one has to discover the vein of the royal mine, but had made meanly exploited by a count of time. In the end, we had relegated him on another plot of land, virgin of any wealth, without the slightest compensation.. Johan ignored if this story had a whit of truth, but he liked telling it to his neighbors. " I use in their stock exchange and it's cheap paid, for what they stole us, hey! " If there was a place where liked boasting of thefts which he committed, it was good in front of those whom he wished to intimidate. After all, he dragged schemer's reputation, not hesitating to rob.

- ''If you want something, son, you take it ! Nobody will ever give you anything free of charge here.''
- ''But it isn't correct, yes? The person maybe won it honestly.''
- ''The end justifies the means. Think that otherwise you and your mother couldn't eat the meat that I returned this morning.''
The young pouted, convinced half. He looked like him in a astounding way, noticed the father: the same face, even almond eyes, the same wavy brown hair... Although, maybe he would be more beautiful, because of the gift of her mother the lines seemed finer, the more pale skin.
Feeling his father observing him, the child raised eyes and smiles.
- ''Go hold, thus plays with this golden coin.'', smiles then Johan by throwing her to his child.
And the young caught her in the flight before observing her as a treasure.

Johan Preminger was a peasant, but he was even more a thief. This profession, he had developed her very early in his adolescence when he had understood that the work of fields would never allow him to obtain what he considered as a decent life. He had since then, stolen, exchanged, robbed and poached without the slightest shame, first of all for his parents then for his family. He wasn't ashamed of what he made, on the contrary he pulled it a kind of awkward pride, he claimed hardly in front of weak ones and hid under a smile in front of the authorities.

- ''Never caught !'' He cried out in boasting. ''I am not a Preminger for nothing.''
This admiration which he had of his name came to him from his uncle, a man corpulant and big - rare thing in his family- which made the terror reign over fields when himself was only a child. Johan had since made every effort to continue this tradition although his manners a little modify.

Johan wasn't a muscular man but he had enough strength for his account. And he had the guile. The guile allowed everything, he was persuaded. She gave rhythm to the number of her thefts and it strove to teach him to his son.
This one showed a kind of natural predisposition in the strategy and in the subtlety. He had known how to speak with a premature speed for a boy of his condition and his understanding of things was much superior to that of a child of his age. Furthermore, not insignificant thing, the nature had endowed him, of a physical appearance which, although looking like Johan, seemed more distinguished and delicate. People couldn't refrain from granting him a softened look and the child then dedicated them a dazzling and an angelica smile.

Johan ignored if his son used it excessively, but nevertheless, he saw that Erwin appreciated the admiration which surrounded him. Anyway, nobody of the neighborhood would have dared to attack he, being afraid of Johan's reprisals.

However, Erwin seemed still reluctant to any morally reprehensible action.
- ''Father, isn't it bad?'' He sometimes objected in his small voice, by winking.
What Johan answered him that not. And Erwin Preminger didn't protest any more. He contented with making for what his father asked him. Johan had decided to train him quickly, seen his potential, and he had been right. To use his son, during his thefts increased his success. There was something with him, of almost instinctive in gestures and words to be adopted. He smiled when one needed, cried when one needed. That Johan would have jealously almost considered him if the child hadn't been his son and if he didn't make it only to please him.

Obviously, nothing in it he asked, didn't put his son in danger, he just had to discuss with the potential targets during the theft. The obstacle of the size wanted that one day, Johan decided to send him, not without some apprehensions. What showed itself beneficial. Among the stolen objects, was a who drew the attention of Johan. His son tried awkwardly to hide from him, before he cannot discover about what it was. It was a portable, small, round and silvered mirror. The material which constituted him would have been able to look like some silver but the peasant knew about experience that it was only about simple steel. But his son contemplated the object with the deepest delight...
- ''It was just beautiful. I am beautiful inside. I wanted him !'', he explained finally in a pleading voice.
For the first time in his life, the child had abandoned his morality for his selfish interests, and he stared at his father with fear, being afraid of his reaction.
Johan contented with making it to him the object, with a shrug. He would have been very hypocritical to lecture him there above. And then, he suspected that if ever he refused him this mirror, his son would begin crying.
- ''And well, if you want him, small prince ... It looks like the job brings in! That it is my son !''

A/N : Preminger... Preminger... He is perfect in his own way ^^
The madness which lives in him is particular because it shows itself at a terribly intelligent person.
I like this character ( my favorite) because he remains incredibly attractive.. His manners and his attitudes, his desires.. He has no limits. He allows himself everything. He is charmingly twisted and megalomaniac. He is profoundly selfish and narcissistic.
He could be an exceptional man and maybe he is in a way but he is, above all, evil.

I so much wanted to write on him, and nevertheless I was totally lost and frightened: I said: " I like this character so much! I would try to understand him and to make that people like( him. "
But I had a change of mind, you haven't to like him, just needs that you find the character whom you know. That his history is coherent.
The purpose is to try to redraw that would have been able to be his life: of his birth in his arrest. And to deepen his links with Anneliese, Julian, Queen Genevieve...and others.

Thus, if you don't love Preminger, it's possible that you continue to don't like him. It isn't important as long as the story interests you and as the other characters please you. (I hope)
If you love Preminger, then I hope that you will find him.
I warn at once that this story can seem a little bit dark? I write on a character ready to kill to become King thus it is a little bit logical, :D But there will be lighter moments ^^
It is everything? No, LavernaG, I think that it is normal that I dedicate you this story there hoping that you can appreciate her as much as I liked yours! Thank you for your encouragements and your friendship!

I am going to try to publish regularly, one- twice a week, normally. I hope (but in the worst reassure you all the story is already written).

Thank you very much for the reading and review if you can! Don't be afraid ^^

See you soon, my friends!

Enjoy it !

Esmee-Lynn