A/N: This is something that WE have been writing in the spur of a moment. Actually I didn't mean for it to be a one-shot so comments to continue it will be considered. IceFire- actually it was my idea first-I wanted to abandon it but this person strongly encouraged(forced)me to continue with her, so… yeah. Thank her for this. So yeah. We are both writing it like, right now, so pardon me. Alright lets begin…
SPOILER ALERT!: This contains alternate universe characters.
Avery Epine will be dead in less than 30 minutes' time.
And he had no idea what was going on.
The Heir frowned as he hurried down the great silent hallways of the Palace, his footsteps muted by the lush swansdown carpets covering every inch of the smooth marble floor. The hallways,that were soon to be his.
Why was he being summoned down to the throne room in the middle of the night? He was the prince! He should not be subject to such atrocious treatment! "My father's going to hear about this!" Avery thought as he stood in front of the majestic granite door.
A tiny figure in the door of Doom.
Avery had lots of more capable siblings than he. The only reason why he was the Heir was because his father, the King, used his influence, pressurizing the whole Kingdom to vote for Avery. (A/N: Think North Korea and you'll know why.)
Nobody gave a vote to all his siblings on pain of death.
He had everything in life. Fancy clothes, gourmet food, wedding proposals from so many wealthy kingdoms. You name it, he has it.
Yet today, Avery Epine XI was going to sacrifice everything he has.
He was going to give up his life.
Raising a pale, thin hand, Avery lifted the golden latch and pushed the door open, struggling hard. For his twenty-four year, Avery was small and frail. Born premature, he has always been delicate and sickly since childhood. Silver hair, emerald green eyes and porcelain skin, he looked way too young to take up the responsibility of an entire empire. Not that he had the ability to, anyway.
Avery stepped gingerly into the Throne Room, marveling at the sophisticated, elegant beauty of the room he has only visited but once, when he was made heir apparent to the palace and Empire. It was more of a great hall than a room, with pure white marble pillars and the great Paintings engraved into the domed ceiling. In the dark, the gigantic throne stood ahead, a large tigerfur draped over the jeweled back, the seat cushioned by sable skin. Somehow, Avery felt drawn toward the seat, as though it was whispering to him, pulling him towards the throne.
Come, it seemed to say. Come forward, Avery Epine.
Avery moved forward, dimly aware of the great crystal chandelier looming above him. He climbed the steps to the throne, his footsteps echoing clearly in the room. Stretching out his hand, his touch lingered almost unconsciously on the orange fur of the tiger.
How majestic it once must have been, Avery thought, fingers streaking through the striped orange-and-black tiger fur. Now it's just lying lifelessly over here, awaiting its destiny at the mercy of the king.
A cold chuckle came from behind, eliciting a yelp of alarm from the heir apparent. "You came." The voice sneered. "How generous of you to spare your precious sleeping time to come here, my majesty."
Avery whirled around, eyes widening as he recognized the figures clad in black in front of him.
"Francis?" He whispered "Arthur?"
A/N Oh god I'm so sorry to stop it here… But I'm trying to catch up with my projects. CLIFFHANGER! Its my first time writing and I know I may have typed in quite a few words wrongly and my grammar is atrocious, so Gomen-sai…(I promise to make the next one longer…)I may or may not write again, so comment if you want this continued. This is an alternate universe so... Haters gonna hate.