A/N: This story is split up into multiple sections, with each section continuing in an overall arc but each having a distinct plot within the story. The first section covers chapters 1-32 and is titled Retribution.
Enjoy!
Part 1 - Retribution
Chapter 1 - Assassination
August 14th, 1793
"... but consider the opportunity it would have been for our kingdom!" the twenty year old prince explained. Even though he was the youngest of all the men in the chamber, he was a confident man, and not afraid to defend himself vocally. "If my plan had succeeded, the Southern Isles would have gained considerable influence in the region. Eventually, total control of their kingdom would have belonged to us, and us alone! With our power spreading that far afield, even the British might begin to consider us a growing force worthy of greater respect..."
"Enough!"
The voice coming from the man seated at the head of the council chamber resounded through the room with an echo. King Andor, the oldest of the men in the room, did not seem at all impressed with the reasoning behind the actions of the man who stood before him.
"We are already aware of the justification you have come up with in an attempt to explain your deplorable actions, and our opinion on the matter has not changed." Andor, referring to the other eleven men at the table where he was sitting, glanced quickly from left to right, implying that the decision was shared amongst all those present. "We have considered many proposals from others regarding the annexing of kingdoms farther up north and have rejected them all! We do not feel that it would be safe to attempt such duplicitous expansion at this time, nor do we see these actions becoming worthy of consideration again any time in the near future! Do I make myself clear?"
The young prince, who had remained silent during the King's outburst, stood his ground and stared directly at Andor, his eldest brother, with determination. When he was younger he would often feel intimidated by Andor, knowing he would one day rule the Southern Isles, and always knowing that he himself would never get the opportunity to be in command, or even second in command, of a kingdom. Now that his eldest brother was in this position of authority, he should have perhaps felt even more subservient under his gaze, especially after being directly rebuked, but he didn't. Even in this public display of humiliation, he felt defiant enough to refuse answering Andor's question. At least for the first time.
"Hans!" Andor yelled as he quickly stood up to loom over his younger brother before he repeated his inquiry. "Do I make myself clear?"
Despite the anger boiling within him, directed not only at his eldest brother, but also those who had been the instrument of his failure in that wretched far-off kingdom, Hans decided to give Andor the answer he had been expecting.
"Perfectly... Your Majesty." He spat out in a dark tone that was anything but respectful.
Hans stood there, trembling with rage as Andor sat back down to continue the lecture he had prepared for his youngest brother, convinced that the other eleven men on the council, his other eleven brothers, were all in complete agreement with what he had to do next.
Andor was not relishing the prospect of having to punish Hans so severely, but the crimes he committed were border-lining treason since Hans knew Andor was opposed to actions similar to what he had done. That's why he had given Hans one final chance to explain himself before the council of his brothers. To perhaps show some sign of regret for taking violent action against another kingdom behind his own King's back. But when he began to spew his plans for expansion once again, Andor knew that regret over his actions had not once entered Hans' mind during his long and disgraceful trip back to the Southern Isles. This made the harshness of his punishment all the more necessary, but at the same time, made it all the more painful for Andor.
But he was the King. And this was something he had to say.
"Hans," he began with a tone that was now completely formal and stern, "because of your actions 3 weeks ago in the Kingdom of Arendelle, in which you attempted to seize their throne through the assassination of members of their royal family, an act which has subsequently severely damaged relations between Arendelle and the Southern Isles, you are hereby stripped of your title of Prince, and are sentenced to a period of no less than five, and no more than ten years of confinement in the dungeon. "
To Andor's surprise, Hans did not at all look concerned by the mention of a minimum of five year prison sentence. He simply continued to stand in the middle of the chamber, eyes fixed on him.
"You are lucky that Arendelle and its allies have not declared war against us for the severity of your crimes." Andor continued. He then looked towards the double doors at the back of the council chamber. "Guards!" He yelled, as the doors swung open and two men wearing silver armour and carrying pikes entered the room.
Hans turned to look over his shoulder at them as they approached and Andor gave his orders.
"Take him to the dungeon." Andor ordered, with far less of a commanding tone than he had been speaking with just a few seconds earlier. He was distraught by the harsh way he had been forced to treat Hans, his little brother. For even though Hans had done something terrible and deserved punishment, Andor still loved him, with a part of himself feeling that perhaps it was his fault that Hans had turned out to be the man he was now. Devious, rebellious, and not ashamed to have almost been a murderer.
As Hans was escorted slowly out of the council chamber, he said nothing. A quick glance to some of his brothers sitting at the table was all he provided before he was taken into the hallway. Andor did not look as he left because it was too painful for him to watch. The remainder of the eleven brothers sat quietly as they watched Hans intently before the doors were once again closed.
Silence was all that followed for a few moments, but the stillness of the room was disrupted as Rasmus, the man to Andor's right and the second eldest of the brothers, stood up from his seat.
"If you would excuse me Your Majesty, I have a meeting with the Coronan ambassador." Rasmus stated calmly as the others in the room, including Andor, were jolted out of their quiet state and reminded that other business had to be conducted for the day.
"Of course." Replied Andor, signaling to Rasmus that he had permission to leave the chambers and attend to his meeting.
As Rasmus walked across the room and out the same doors Hans was taken through, Andor began speaking to his other brothers, trying to focus solely on his duties as King and put his dealing with Hans behind him, at least for the moment.
"I suggest now we move on to discussing the trade negotiations with Weselton. As you know, they were also cut off from all business with Arendelle following the events of three weeks ago." Reminded yet again of the mess Hans had made of regional affairs, but Andor quickly shoved the thought aside. "Considering what happened, I can somewhat understand Arendelle's Queen for reacting in such a way, however we need to consider how this will affect our commerce. Weselton is offering increased trade between our kingdom and theirs, as well as offering to put in a good word with several other kingdoms they do business with, in order to compensate for the loss we have both suffered."
The rest of the brothers on the council sat and listened to the King. Andor felt that they were most likely feeling concern about dealing more heavily in trade with Weselton. Considering the deadly part they played in the events in Arendelle, it was conceivable that Weseslton could therefore be capable of stabbing the Southern Isles in the back if it benefited them. However, the risk would have to be taken in order to make up for the loss of trade.
"I realize that we might not all be comfortable with increasing our relations with Weselton," Andor reassured, hoping to show his brothers that he understood the risks, "but considering the alternative is an economic disaster, I feel we are left with no alternative..."
Andor was cut off by the opening of the doors to the council chamber. Striding confidently through the door was Rasmus, with four guards accompanying him. Before he made it half way towards the table where the other brothers sat, Andor spoke up.
"Rasmus? You've... already finished your meeting with the ambassador?" Andor asked, with curiosity in his voice, but not as to why Rasmus' supposed meeting had gone so quickly, but as to why his brother was storming into the chamber with four armed men.
"No, brother." Rasmus replied, his voice deep and without emotion.
Stopping mere feet from the opposite side of the table where Andor was sitting, Rasmus gave a single glance to Dagmar, the third oldest of the brothers, who quickly stood up and pulled a short-sword from under his cloak and pointed it at Andor. In a flash five more of the brothers sitting around the table quickly stood up, each with swards drawn, pointing them at Andor and the remaining four princes who each bore a face that painted utter shock.
The King, speechless from shock and unable to move due to the weaponry pointed in his direction, stared art Rasmus who had now drawn a sword of his own and was motioning the four guards to take pre-determined positions around the room.
"What do you think you're doing?" Andor asked Rasmus after regaining some of his composure. He had a hard time believing that Hans was capable of betraying his trust the way that he had recently, but he never would have imagined that seven more of his brothers would suddenly turn on him in such a manner. Especially Rasmus, his second in command.
"Isn't it obvious?" Said Rasmus, showing a slight amount of arrogance but still having very little emotion in his voice. He looked casually around the room and then directly at Andor. "Out of the twelve of us here, I count seven on my side. Not counting these guards here as well as the rest of our military force, whom you will find are all no longer taking orders from you. Either way, you seem to be outnumbered in this council at the moment."
Andor couldn't believe what he was hearing. Rasmus had this planned out in advance? The military was already behind whatever action he was about to take? It was so incredulous that it all seemed like it was an elaborate practical joke for a second.
"You can't be serious Rasmus!" Andor exclaimed. "What are you attempting to accomplish by pulling this stunt?"
"Stunt?!" Rasmus yelled. "Am I serious?! I assure you, I am very serious about this! As all of us who are standing now will attest to, we have thought long and hard about this, and we have come to the only conclusion that we can make!"
"And what would that be, brother?" Andor replied, spitting the word 'brother' out harshly at the end of his sentence.
Just then, Hans walked slowly into the council chamber, smugly tugging at his cuffs to re-adjust his coat as he walked up to stand beside Rasmus. A smile was present on his face, one that Andor had never seen on any of his brothers before. A sneer that embodied malevolence.
"The determination that you are no longer fit as the ruler of the Southern Isles." Rasmus replied, knowing Hans was now standing beside him, but not lifting his gaze off of Andor. "As you're so fond of encouraging us to think of this council as somewhat of a democracy, despite the fact that you are still the King, we have decided to exercise that right. And you..." Rasmus raised his sword to Andor's chin, poking slightly at his flesh. "...have been voted out."
It's true that Andor had encouraged that. He felt that his brothers had always provided wonderful ideas in council meetings. That was why he would often call for votes amongst the thirteen of them in order to decide upon certain things. Perhaps it was that weakness, which Andor had always thought of as a method of fair ruling, that had lead to the situation he was now in, being held at the end of a sword by his own brother.
Hans began to walk around the left side of the table, smile still on his face, as Andor asked Rasmus, "So what now? Do you plan to kill me? Take the throne? Dispose of all others who won't join your coup?"
"No." Rasmus replied. Calmly but coldly as he leaned back, removing the sword from its proximity to Andor's neck. "I don't plan to kill you or anyone else if necessary. After all, I'm motivated by what I feel is best for this kingdom. I'm not the one with revenge on my mind."
Suddenly, Andor felt a hand on his left shoulder and a sharp pain in his back. It was so sudden and unexpected that he did not know what it was at first. Then, another tearing ache as the hand on his shoulder pulled him back and into the source of the pain, which was now protruding from his chest.
"But I am!" Came a voice from behind. It was Hans, now leaning right over Andor and whispering into his ear. As Andor looked down in shock, he saw the serrated edge of a bloody knife sticking out of his front. The pain overcoming him as gushing blood began to stain his shirt, he barely had the strength to look up once again at Rasmus.
"That doesn't mean I'm not willing to get my hands dirty... when deadly force is required." Rasmus explained, as he looked up from Andor, towards Hans, who then pulled the knife out of Andor's back with a violent tug and handed it to Rasmus.
Andor was now gasping for breath, barely able to keep his eyes upon Rasmus, who leaned very close towards Andor to continue his speech.
"When your legacy of a spineless rule has been washed away, when we reach out into the world to take what kingdoms we see fit to conquer, we will finally have the great nation that our father always intended us to have!" Rasmus hissed directly into Andor's face as he raised the bloodied knife which was seconds ago, in his back. "Your gutless rein will see its end at the tip of my blade!"
A/N: Ok, I'm gonna give this a shot here. Perhaps at least one person out there will find this story interesting. It may start off slow, but I have plans for danger, excitement, and a Pirates of the Caribbean -esque ship battle. Hopefully you got hooked with the first chapter!
