Alexander Yves Demetri Narsson, Prince of Swendway

[By Sabinethefangirl]

-x-x-x-

TWO YEARS BEFORE THE SELECTION, THE ROYAL PALACE IN STOCKHOLM, SWENDWAY

The Royal Palace in Stockholm is not a small house. Build in the place of the original after the Fourth World War, it now has five habituated floors and over 2000 rooms. Its ancient walls are lined with paintings, portraits, dark nooks, and secret passageways. The rooms are all decorated in royal blue, gold, and marble. The building is an impressive monument to Swendway's history and achievements, the world-famous Throne Hall most of all. It's more of an enormous room than a hall, rectangular shaped and displaying the throne and most treasured jewels of the kingdom. The Ballroom is, if possible, even bigger, taking up one end of the palace and two stories high. The Royal Palace in Stockholm is, in other words, an excellent place to hide.

And hiding is exactly what prince Aleksander Yves Demetri Narsson, second-in-line for the Swendian throne, was currently doing. Hiding is not something most young men of twenty-four do every day, and it is most certainly not something young princes of twenty-four do ever. In his defense, Alek had just come back from a year of traveling the world. Jetlagged as he was, he just wanted to go to his room and sleep. His mother, however, had other plans. That night, there was to be a big dinner to welcome him back. Almost his entire family had come out to see him. The only two unable to make it had been his uncle and aunt, something he could quite understand. When it is your job to monarch a country as big as the Arabian Kingdom, you couldn't just fly across the globe to welcome home a nephew you didn't see that much anyway. His cousins, however, had come out. They'd attached a vacation in Swendway to it, so at least it wasn't all for just one night.

Alek was sitting on a windowsill on the top floor of the Palace, watching the daily life of the people in Stockholm unfold outside when his sister found him. "Are you planning on staying here all night?" Jeyes was leaning against the wall opposite the window, her head cocked to the side as she regarded her brother.

"If possible, then yes."

"And if not possible?"

"Then I will run around the Palace all night to keep hidden." Alek sighed, turning to face his little sister. "Though I suppose, with you at my heels, it won't be as fun."

Jeyes chuckled, coming to stand next to him and wrap her arms around Alek. "Why are you so against having dinner with everyone? You said this morning that you wanted to tell us something. It is so bad if they all hear it too?"

Alek sighed again, relishing in his sister's embrace. She was three years younger than him, but much wiser. She'd always been able to give him the best advice — not in the least the last time he'd been home, when she'd told him that the best thing he could ever do was just follow his heart. He'd done exactly that, and spent a year traveling the world. It'd been the best year of his life, especially because he'd met Thomas.

"No. No, it's not, it's just…" Alek let his voice trail off, not quite knowing how to voice his thoughts. He got up from his seat on the windowsill, towering over his little sister. He grabbed her hand, telling her without words to follow him.

After they'd crossed almost the entire Palace, they finally ended up in the Throne Hall. Alek had taken them on a bit of a detour to avoid running into all the people he couldn't face just quite yet.

"Do you see all these people?" He threw out his arm, gesturing to the portraits of all of Swendway's former and current monarchs. "Each of these people — of our ancestors — have earned their spot on these walls. They've made sacrifices, hard choices, and came out on top. What if who I am — what I am — isn't enough to live up to their legacy?"

Alek faced Jeyes, his voice cracking. "What if I'm not good enough to be a part of our family?"

"Oh, Alek," she said, throwing her arms around him in a hug. "I don't know what you're going through right now, but you have to know that our ancestors weren't perfect. They made mistakes. We're allowed to do the same. And, besides, you're not the crown prince. You won't be king. You're beating yourself up over something that might not even be a problem."

Alek stepped away, letting Jeyes' arms fall to her side. The words he spoke were raw, laced with an intensity that made him shudder. He wouldn't have been able to keep them inside if he tried. "I'm bisexual, Jey. I like men and women. And I — I'm in love with a man."

"Alek…" He didn't turn around, didn't face her. Just stood there, looking at the portrait of his grandfather, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Jeyes walked up to him, offering him the simple comfort of her presence. "Who you love will never be equivalent to who you are as a person. If anyone ever tells you differently, they don't deserve to be in your life."

Alek nodded. He didn't answer her, not right away. It wasn't necessary. She knew that he heard her words.

-x-x-x-

An hour later, Alek had finally decided to give up hiding and accept his fate. He would have dinner with his family, and he'd come out to them. It was just a few extra people. It was a relief, unlike anything he'd ever felt that Jey already knew, and that she was still there for him. He'd known, deep down, that she wouldn't hate him for it, but realizing that really was true, was better than he could've ever hoped for.

Dinner was tense. It was filled with silence, the only sound the clanking of cutlery and plates. Alek wanted to say something the whole time, but he was also scared. It wasn't until dessert had been served — and finished — that he scraped his throat. The small conversations that had finally started between his family came to a stop as he stood up.

"Before we end this lovely… dinner… I have something to say." His father didn't look at him, just carried on eating. His mother tried to softly tell him to pay attention, but her attempts were fruitless. She shot her son a look that said: I'm sorry, you know what your father is like. His aunt and uncle were looking at him with a smile and love in their eyes, a look so foreign to him he felt it in his heart. His sister, Amina, and her husband Koll were both smiling at him. All his cousins were too. Jey was beaming at him, sending her love and courage. Alek took a deep breath.

"I'm bisexual."

The response both was and was not what he expected. Jey was crying, which he had expected, despite the fact that she already knew. Ami and Koll both came up to hug him, just as the rest of his family. He was surprised by that; he'd expected it from Ami and Koll, hoped it from his mother, but he wasn't that close to the rest of his family. Even Faiz, husband of his cousin Åsa, came up to slap him on the back and tell him nothing would have to change.

What didn't surprise him was that his father had remained seated. He hadn't even looked up. Just carried on eating, as if nothing was happening.

"Sven? Don't you have anything to say to your son?" His mother was looking at his father, her voice cold. Alek had known they didn't love each other. He wasn't sure his father loved anyone. He still didn't look up when he spoke. "I no longer have a son."

The words hurt. They stung in Alek's chest, making it hard to breathe. He fought the tears threatening to fall, knowing that to show any sign of emotion would only make his father hate him more. Not that he would see it, but Alek knew that he would know anyway. He could still remember the last time they'd spoken. It was before he left for his year of travel, when he'd gotten his PhD.

"Well done, son." His father had looked up from his morning paper when Alek walked into the dining room. He knew what he meant — he'd gotten his PhD just days before, and this was the first time they'd seen each other since.

"Thank you, father." Alek sat down, hoping his father would say anything else. He didn't. He just put his attention back to his paper, ignoring his son for the remainder of breakfast. Alek knew his father was aware that he'd be gone for the next year, that he'd be traveling. He'd thought there might be a note of good luck, or even a goodbye. He should've known better than to hope. With his father, all hoping ever did was let him down.

He supposed it was still true. He hoped time and time again, thinking that maybe, this time it would be different. This time, his father would show him that he did care. He never did. And Alek knew that he never would. He simply didn't have it in him.

The rest of what little was left of dinner was finished in a silence even more uncomfortable than the first one. Everyone kept shooting Alek these little smiles, but the one person he needed to acknowledge him the most never did. Despite being twenty-four, Alek felt like he was a little boy all over again, waiting for his father to come read him a story before bed, like he'd promised that afternoon. He never came. Alek fell asleep sitting above his covers, and when he woke up the next morning, he knew that his father would never read to him. This time, he knew his father was never going to speak to him again.


THANK YOU SO MUCH, Sabinethefangirl FOR THIS AMAZING ONE-SHOT! It gave us some insight on the Swendish family and Prince. It was awesome!

Please review, and direct your reviews for Sabine, she'll be keeping an eye out for them ;)