A/N: New story by me. What do you think? Don't forget to review!
Once upon a time, in the year 1772, a time of kings and kingdoms and dueling; there were two brothers. Twins, identical in physical aspects, but very different. Jack Alexander Bolton, strong and stubborn but determined in what he wants. His dark chestnut hair and blue eyes were the perfect contrast and mirror image of his father before him. Then there's his brother, Sebastian Romeo Bolton.
His dark as midnight hair with black as the night eyes, his pale skin in ultimate contrast. He was cunning, not very dependable on strength like Jack was, but relied on his own muscle.
His own dark, twisted, cunning mind.
Early stages in life, they were close as brothers-twin brothers-can be. But then they grew of age to learn the responsibilities of running the kingdom. Sebastian read every scroll, wrote every desired word of the law that his father and previous kings before him had written down on parchment. Jack...did not. Going about the village, trapsing after tavern wenches and hunting in the woods.
That last one was his favourite. Hunting from dawn to dusk, sunup to sundown. It was obvious to all members of the Bolton family that Sebastian would be getting the throne before Jack did. But one night, at a banquet celebrating Jack and Sebastian's 21st birthday, their father, Peter William James Bolton III, announced to everyone...
That Jack had recieved the throne.
Sebastian had only gotten free board in the palace and was assigned 'Next In Line'. Jack was littered with gifts and congratulations, being shoved toward the throne-crowned with jewels and sashes and textiles of gold and red and white. Sebastion waltzed slowly toward the back of the room; the grand ballroom that was littered with wall-to-wall in portraits of Bolton kings from the very first in 1450.
And he was sure that it'd be his face on that wall next to his fathers...not his brothers. Jack didn't even do anything! All he did was hunt! Chase wenches! What did Sebastian do? He studied-like he was supposed to do. He copied down all the laws that his father and grandfathers had written by hand and even wrote down for HOURS what he'd do if he was king! He did everything!
Snarling, the envious brother walks to the doors of the ballroom, sneaking through to the balcony that were hidden behind the grand red, silken curtains. He saw his brother-cocky and irresponsible-make his way from the throne as the music starts. He grabs his arm and pulls him onto the balcony. "This isn't fair, Brother." he nearly growls.
Jack sighs, "there's more to being king than studying-"
"Exactly!" he yells hushedly, "things that I know and you do not, I should be king-"
"I was chosen for a reason-"
"And what reason is that? Tell me Brother..." Sebastian narrows his eyes and blocks the doors. Jack sighs, shaking his head.
"I'd rather not fight tonight all right? It's a night celebrating us as brothers-" Sebastian yanks away from him. "NO!"
"Sebast-"
"You are my twin. Not my brother...you stole from me!"
"I was given this! Chosen! It wasn't my fault!" Sebastian chews his inner cheek, striding around Jack's mountain-like muscled body and leaning against the railing. His hands clenching tightly into rock sized fists; his whole body shaking with a raging anger.
Jack walks toward him, raising a hand to put on his shaking shoulder but thinks different of the action and returns it to his side. "I'm sorry...it happened, and I won't dishonor father by refuking the title of king. It belongs to me now." The clicking of his boots on the tile softened as he walked away, Sebastian was seething.
"You are not my brother. Only my twin." he mumbles over and over. "The title of King is mine. Or it will be. Yes it will be."
That night ended with Sebastian retiring early to his chamber and Jack sociallizing with relatives and women. Mainly the women; that is how he met his wife. Sondra-Elizabeth Addams. Of Westfolk.
She was a women of esteemed beauty, her eyes would light up when she laughed or dimmed when she felt a negative emotion. Her skin shined like candlelight and her brown hair, matching almost identically to his, was tied up in a bun with only a soft river running down her backside. A peach coloured gown wrapped her up like something forbidden that Jack desperately wanted to take to his chamber and have to himself. There was a word for this. Beauty. Beautiful.
Sondra was truly...beautiful.
"Oh...Lord Bolton, you truly are...a riot as your parents have said." Sondra says between slow and quick giggles. Jack smiles, they are sitting at a booth that is surrounded and enclosed in red gossamer satin ribbon. Privacy-something that Jack is grateful for.
"Well, if they said what I am, then it is true-most honorable parents like mine wouldn't tell lies about their offspring." She giggles again, grasping his giant hand in her such smaller one. For awhile, they stared into each other's eyes, then Jack had lowered his to her delectable looking lips.
"Your lips...look soft...I wonder how they-"
"taste?" he looks back into her eyes. She giggles, nodding slowly with a rose colouring dusting over her cheeks. "I'm not as naive as my papa and mama think I am..." He raises both eyebrows.
"Really?" she smiles a small smile, shaking her head.
"Well...I've been kissed before..." he cups her cheeks, his thumbs grazing over the skin just below her eyes. "Like this?" he asks, moving closer, her breath turns into fluttering puffs that exit her lungs quickly.
"Uh...we-well...I-" she is cut off by his lips on hers, slowly moving in slow circles and intertwining their tongues. Her fingers running through his hair that was tied at the nape of his neck, too soon he pulls away.
"Like that? You've been kissed like that?"
"No," she answers honestly, "your kissing is more satisfactory than any other man.." he chuckles, intertwining their fingers together as he hears the orchestra playing one last waltz for the night.
"Would you do me the honour of a dance?"
"Of course my Lord-"
"Jack."
"Jack."
They danced, Sondra's skirts a flash of white, green and luminous gold. Their bodies pressed together as they twirled and whirled in the center of the crowd. The king eyed his son proudly, then at the young woman dancing on his arm. Surely the next queen? Perhaps.
"Dear," says the king's wife, Lady Blossom. "I think our son has found himself a wife..."
He chuckles, "Ah, yes, it appears so doesn't it?"
"Wedding bells?"
"To dance to at his wedding." The pair laughed, following in their son's and Sondra's lead in the last dance. A magical evening.
About a month later, Jack had proposed to Sondra-who accepted it fervently. Sebastian had gone into a black, dark depression that sent him spiraling mad-raving around the castle at night, muttering to himself most of times and then there's the works he does. Writing feverishly on scrolls and scrolls of parchment. "Plans" he calls them.
"Plans" to get Jack off of the throne...
Then, after the royal wedding, came the bairn. A wee one to crawl and toddle about the castle, that's when Sebastian's place as "Next In Line" went to his nephew, his parents called him Troy. Like the city in greece with the warriors that built that horse.
A mere obstacle, but easily overseen.
"Oh, isn't he lovely?" Sondra cooes over her son, smiling down into his blue eyes- like his father. "beautiful eyes, just like his father..." she kisses his forehead sweetly. The lady in waiting smiles at the mother.
"Aye, he's lovely...but a handful he'll be when he's bigger."
"But that's the fun of raising boys isn't it?" Sondra laughs, as does her lady in waiting. Just then the doors open and in walks Jack, setting his bow and arrow on a high shelf before he walks to his small family and kneels down at the side of his wife and hands his young bairn a finger to hold.
Troy sticks it in his mouth. Cooing nonsense sounds. "Ah," Jack chuckles, "more noise he makes...means he'll talk a lot when he's bigger."
"No, he'll be a quiet one-" Sondra corrects, but is interrupted. Jack chuckles, "You say that now..." he kisses her lips softly, "but boys grow, Love." she giggles softly, looking back at her son.
"He'll be a fine king someday." Jack tugs his finger away, but Troy reaches for it again, his wee face scrunched in red sadness. His father hands it back to him, and he sticks it in his mouth again.
He chuckles, "Aye, he will be."
"Troy Alexander William Bolton...King of England." Jack chuckles, taking Troy from his wife gently, and kissing his forehead while taking back his finger.
"A fine king indeed." he says, laying Troy in his cradle; the tyke cooing softly that soon becomes light snores. Sondra grabs Jack by the arm and tugs him away.
"like our son, we need rest, my husband."
"Yes...indeed we do." he sweeps her up in his arms the way he did when they were married for the first time; she giggles and grabs onto his neck and onto the lapels of his suit as he carries into their chamber which is not far from where the prince's room is.