Author's Note: Warning for an implied suicidal character in this chapter. Nothing graphic.
Also note that I'm going to update the first chapter to include warnings about how dark this really can get, but within the bounds of its T rating.
Prince Benjamin pressed his ear against the doorframe, straining to hear if anything, anything was going amiss in the room.
He had overheard the doctor mentioning that he was running low on his supplies. While that in itself wasn't cause for any alarm, Benjamin did remember his brother snooping around the office rather suspiciously earlier. Sure, it was probably just paranoia. Hans hadn't had a stunt like that since Søren passed away over a decade ago. Of course, everyone—even the entire kingdom—mourned the loss of their Crown Prince. No one took it harder than Hans did, though. Søren and Hans were inseparable, even during Hans' infancy.
But, oh God, if he didn't at least make sure Hans was alright after what happened between him and the stable boy, Ivar, Benjamin wouldn't ever forgive himself. The guy was his brother's friend, for one. Hopefully the trauma of getting attacked by Ivar didn't rattle his poor little brother enough to have a repeat of the events surrounding Søren.
It was a shame. It seemed that everyone who Hans tried to get close to turned out to be a magician in the end. Once was terrible. A second time?
Prince Benjamin hoped his brother wouldn't be so rash like last time. Hans was barely five, himself only eight, and that was quite possibly the worst day of their lives. At that point, Benjamin knew his brother's attempts at happiness would be a struggle from that day forward. No one ever considered such dark thoughts at the age of five, but unfortunately Hans was the exception.
Hearing his brother's pacing footsteps in the room settled Benjamin's nerves somewhat. He took this opportunity to knock and check to see how Hans was faring.
"Enter."
Benjamin peeked his head past the doorframe. Hans' bedroom was dim, the curtains drawn shut, the candles and lanterns unlit. Hans himself was still pacing around the room, both hands in his hair as he sighed every so often. A bedsheet covered the floor mirror at the corner of his room. Benjamin took this as a negative sign.
Hans was vehemently against having one in his room in the first place, citing the fear of vanity and self-absorption as a reason and that a mirror was a symbol of those two vices. Mother and Father made him keep it, though. Hans was a prince and needed to ensure he was going to be presentable, after all. However, seeing it draped for no logical reason other than whatever tormented his brother's thoughts was worrying.
"Are you going to be okay?" Benjamin asked. "I'm really sorry to hear about Ivar."
Hans paused his pace around the room. He rubbed his face and looked at his brother with a weary expression.
"I survived Søren; I'll survive Ivar," he responded. "It'll take time, but I'll be fine."
"Look, I just want to make sure you're safe in here. I overheard the doctor earlier about lacking supplies, and when I saw you around his office earlier seeming like you didn't want anyone to notice..."
"I'm fine, Ben. Really." Hans sat down on his bed, his back hunched over slightly as he rested his hands on his knees. "I went to the doctor to get a cut on my leg looked at. Ivar got me with the spade hard, but the doctor says it's mainly bruising and that the cut is superficial. I just didn't want to concern the others over something so trivial. Thanks for being worried about me, however. It means a lot."
Benjamin sat beside Hans. "No, I really am worried, Hans. I know I shouldn't have assumed, but just remembering you after Søren passed away—"
"I meant it, Ben. You're just being a good brother." Hans gave him a few pats on the back. He huffed. "I think it's safe to say that I officially hate magic. Nothing good ever comes of it."
"Don't worry, Hans. Once Rudolf comes back from his travels abroad, maybe he found a better way to deal with of all the magic."
Hans nodded mechanically, his stare unfocused and his mouth quirked slightly into a frown. "Yes. Hopefully soon. I'm too afraid to get close to anyone else without having to lose them to this curse again."
"But you've got me, at least. No magic on me, so no worries there."
Hans laughed softly. "This is true." He rolled his shoulders and sighed. He reached for something in an inner pocket of his coat and held it in his lap.
In the dim light of the room, Benjamin wasn't sure what Hans had in his possession. It wasn't until his ears registered the mechanical click being the sound of a hammer locking into place that Benjamin realized that the object was a pistol. He froze, not wanting to believe that Hans had a gun with him (Hans enjoyed crossbows a little too much, but a gun?), as he witnessed his little brother lift the muzzle to his own chin.
Benjamin's heart stopped.
Hans looked at Benjamin with a smirk as if he was about to tell him a joke, his green eyes twinkling from some unseen light. Then he pointed the pistol away from his face to the mirror in the corner and fired. Glass shattered from underneath the sheet of fabric, the blanket keeping the shards from flying around the room and containing the damage in a pile.
Hans placed the gun in Benjamin's hands and pulled him towards the door.
"Now that I've gotten that out of my system," Hans said, "do you think that I can finally convince the king and queen to get that thing out of my room? I told them I'm perfectly fine with using the ones in the corridor."
"Uh..."
Hans gave him a pat on the shoulder. "G'night, Ben. See you at breakfast tomorrow." He shut the door.
Guards rushed to Prince Benjamin at the sound of gunfire, asking if he was alright, if something happened to Prince Hans, if there was an intruder. Benjamin was still in shock as he handed one of the guards the gun and instructed him to return it to the armory; and that yes, he was okay, but to have servants check on Hans every once in a while throughout the night just to make sure. He also asked if one would bring a dustpan to Hans' room as well.
After that day, Hans kept everyone at a distance.
Maybe it was from some secret fear that they would be taken from him like Ivar. Like Søren. Benjamin couldn't find it in his heart to blame him. Besides, Hans just seemed to have the most terrible luck. He wasn't superstitious, but he wouldn't be surprised if breaking that mirror was just Hans' strange way of accepting that as a fact.
After all, if he were Hans, seven more years of bad luck was nothing.
Author's Note: Testing out the waters with this chapter. I'm trying to keep the restraints on this specific fic into the T category. However, given how much I've planned about the plot for the actual fic in the future, it's going to contain things I believe will fall into the M category. While I don't believe I've gone off the deep-end into the M rating for the plot I have planned, it does toe the line between "things I feel that are acceptable for thirteen-year-olds to read" and "things that I feel are acceptable for adults to read." For older teens, perhaps?
Which means that my kinda-AU plot I want to write in the future is going to contain more dark subject matter and drama than in my Death, Personified trilogy.
But fear not about this anachronistic compilation of scenes. I fully intend this to fall into a T rating. This is probably going to be as dark as it's going to get in here. (Or if not, I'll make sure to have a note of that in the chapter at the top.) However, do let me know if you ever want me to up the rating at any time.