(A/N: I am so sorry for the delay everyone! Things in my live have been rather hectic! I've been pretty sick since christmas and I've been going from doctor to doctor trying to figure out what's wrong. Hopefully things will get answered with these last set of tests that I've been going through. I want to thank everyone who's still reading, and everyone who's just starting! I hope you enjoy this chapter. If so, please review. Nothing makes me feel better than reading that people like this story!)
"Now young prince, you must wear these gloves. They'll do well to help you control. The thick leather will not burn so easily and you will be able to smell it long before anyone will be able to take notice of your... little problem."
Hans sighed as he took the gloves from the old advisor wrinkled hands, trying to keep himself calm. But his irritation and frustration was forefront in the young boy's mind, causing heat to radiate from his hands, forcing the older man to draw back, for fear of being burned. He knew the young prince wasn't doing it on purpose, but that was even worse. The obvious lack of control was far more dangerous than any form of malice.
Drake had been assigned to assist the young prince in trying to figure out how best to hide and handle his fire since it was learned that there was no way of getting rid of the curse. Drake's family had served the royal family of the Southern Isles for three generations now and held his loyalty to the king since they were both young boys themselves.
He was a serious man by nature, with a long, gaunt face that was framed with long salt and pepper hair that was pulled back into a severe ponytail. Hans always thought he looked a bit like a crow with the way his nose hooked downward, but he knew better than to say it outloud to the man. He held the most power out of all the servants and had been given permission from the king himself to punish any of the princes if ever he felt they deserved it. More than once, he'd received a stern lecture or a slap on the top of his hands when he used to try to sneak treats from the maids.
"Do I have to? My hands'll get all sweaty and hot." Hans whined softly as he touched the thick and heavy black fabric. He liked it better when he could feel the cool air against his always heated flesh. It gave him a feeling that he simply wasn't burning away from the inside.
"Princes do not whine, young Hans." Drake offered when he looked over the young boy. He was so small, even for his age. The maids still called him the runt of the royal family, and many thought he was sickly and that was why they had hidden him away from the rest of the boys and the castle If only they knew just how powerful, and dangerous the boy could be without even trying.
"There is nothing wrong with wearing gloves, young Hans. Your father wears white ones daily, as do I. When you are older, you would have to wear gloves anyways when you are dressed formally. Just think of this as being more mature than some of your older brothers that you have them now rather than later." While the seven year old wasn't exactly sure what being mature meant, the idea of doing something better of before her brothers had him immediately grabbing at the gloves once more.
Shoving his chubby hands into the thick leather, Hans tried to wiggle his fingers. The black leather was stiff for now, barely letting him flex his hands properly. He would get used to them though if they helped him learn to stop the fire and make father proud.
"Now young prince. We are going to work on controlling yourself and hiding your powers. If you can go a week without incident, your father and I have I agreed that you can go play with your brothers for a time." Drake offered, knowing that rewards were the way to go with the young prince. Hans was more likely to work hard if it meant getting something he wanted in return, and there was nothing more that the boy wanted than to be around his brothers and be a part of their games. At the promise, Han's eyes lit up and he eagerly nodded and moved to sit at the table where they usually had his lessons.
The prospect of playing with any of them, even Klause, was enough to spur him on to try as hard as possible to do whatever was asked of him. While Hans enjoyed the special attention his father would give him at night, he missed his brothers and the games they would play, even when they ignored him sometimes. They were not only his brothers, but his friends. He missed them since he'd been placed alone in the western wing.
"Let us start with Economics, young prince. Please, recite the current trade partners of the Southern Isles?"
"That would be Weasleton, Spain, Corona, Arendelle..."
It had taken two months and sixteen pairs of gloves for Hans to be able to learn just how to control his fire enough to stop it before it started to burn through the thick leather. At least once a day, the boy would get frustrated enough that he could smell the smoky scent of the burning leather. It had taken a little over a week for him to realize just what the scent meant and even longer for him to understand that it was connected to his frustration and irritation. It took Drake sitting down and trying to explain it to the child what was causing his fire for Hans to truly get it.
That was the problem though, Drake realized. Little boys were supposed to find themselves frustrated, angry, or ashamed . Failing was simply a part of growing up and with failure came those feelings. How could he tell the boy not to feel, to hide those thoughts away? No, it had taken several nights in the library, trying to search for an answer.
Before her had a chance to really find something out, Hans had started coming to his own conclusions on what to do. The smell of the gloves forced all thoughts of whatever had caused the fire in him to burn brighter. Instead he thought of his father and brothers. He wanted to go out with them once more, trying to use that to calm himself down once more.
It took practice though. The first time he tried to do that, the gloves only burned faster, bursting into bright blue flame before cooling to a deep amber red. It seemed it wasn't only thoughts that were negative that made the fire burn. Yearning and love could make the fire burn hotter, and that was bad.
"Love is not a bad thing Hans." King Barthilius told his son one night over chess. "It can never be a bad thing. "
"But why do my gloves burn faster then?" He asked, fear and frustration obvious in his voice as the tell tale scent of burning leather assaulted the king's nose. Placing his game piece down, he reached over and laid his hand gently on his youngest's shoulder. "Because your fire is simply an outward representation of what everyone feels inside them." At the obviously bewildered look on his son's face, Barthilius chuckled softly. "Someday you will understand me better my son. For now though, know that everyone has a fire that burns inside of them. He moved his hand to Han's chest, over his heart. "In here. It is what makes us human, love, passion, desire, joy, and despair. There are times that those fires can build up and consume us."
Thinking back to the love for his own wife and the despair he'd felt at her death, he gave a small sad smile at the boy who looked so much more like her than any other of their sons. "Your gift simply gives an outward power behind that inner fire. "
"But... but if everyone has it father, does that mean I'll never be able to stop it, control it?" He looked down at the gloves that covered his hands. Already the tips of the fingers were looking black and cracked from the heat of his fear and despair.
"None of us can completely control our emotions, not even I." Barthilius said softly as he sighed. "But we can reign them in. With determination, confidence, and self discipline, we can use that inner fire for great things. I believe that you will learn to harness this power inside and bring about greeat, great things my son. You are a prince of the Southern Isles, greatness is in your blood." He said the last part with a smile.
While Hans didn't quite understand all that his father said to him in that moment, he'd never forget those words. "I hope I can be that good father."
"You already are. No need to try." He smiled and reached for the chess piece once more and toppled over Han's king. "Though you will need to work on your tactics my son." He chuckled. Hans just stared shocked at the chessboard before immediately reaching to place the pieces back in their proper spaces. "Again?"
"One more time Hans, but then bed. I still have to wish your brothers a good rest and you have lessons to be up and awake for early tomorrow morning. Do you not?"
The small boy gave a small pout, but nodded in agreement.
After two months of trying to keep himself calm and controlling the fire within, Hans had managed to keep his gloves whole and complete for the entire day. It was something to be proud of. Soon one day turned to two, and two to four. Before long, he'd managed to go the required week in order to see his brothers.
Drake was still a little worried to put him with the other boys, but Han's was so excited and he'd been working so hard. How much could one day hurt? "Now remember young prince, be polite, kind, and most of all control your fire."
Hans nodded as he finished dressing and pulled his gloves on without thinking. Already they were a natural part of each day, a protect against his fire growing out of control. "I will Drake, don't worry. I'm just going to play with my brothers." He said happily. "Think they'll be happy to see me? I bet Bram has all sorts of things to talk about.' He said, thinking about the brother closest in age to him. Only two years apart. Bram was his closest playmate before his powers awoke.
"Yes, well I will be standing close Hans. If things become out of control, we will return to the west wing. Understood?" He said softly, but the tone of his voice left for no disagreements.
"I promise Drake, now can we go, please? It's breakfast and I want to eat with father and everyone!" He was reaching for the old man's hand and nearly dragging him to the door and out towards the main part of the castle. Already, he could imagine the excitement of his brothers as he came in. They'd all want to know exactly what he'd been up to and in return tell him everything that he'd missed around the castle
The boy paused only a moment before the dining hall door to try to straighten out his clothes and straighten his back like his father had always taught him to do. Putting on his best smile, he opened the door and saw them all sitting there, eating and talking. For a moment, none of them noticed the youngest standing at the door, waiting to be acknowledged. Glancing to the head of the table, Hans took note that his father was absent, probably in a meeting or doing some form of work for the kingdom. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence. . He was surprised that no one had looked over to him yet. Unsure what to do, he glanced up at Drake for some sort of guidance.
The old man offered a supportive smile before clearing his throat loud enough to be heard. At once, the boisterous conversations came to a stop and the twelve brothers turned to face the thirteenth. The reaction from each varied. For Bram, it was an excited smile. From middle brothers such as Garrett and Randoulf, there was a hesitant greeting as they seemed unsure how to act around the powered prince. From Klause though, there was a thinly veiled look of disgust and disdain for the youngest son.
After a moment, the eldest prince seemed to regain his composure enough to motion for both brother and servant to take a seat at the end of the table. "Welcome Hans, I didn't realize that we would be expecting you this day. Does father know you've left the west wing?"
Not quite mature enough to understand his brother's forced polite tone for anything more than surprise, Hans smiled and nodded. "He told me yesterday that'd been doing so well with my lessions that he thought I should come and eat with everyone again."
"I...see." Klause said as the boy moved to sit beside Bram. "Well welcome back Hans, I do hope you enjoy breakfast." He said as he moved to stand. "I find myself suddenly finished with mine." Not wanting to be there, the eldest son left, followed shortly by three of their other brothers who were close in age to him.
Trying not to feel the hurt of them leaving, Hans gave a small smile and nodded. "I'll see you later then." The youngest prince called after before looking around at the nine brothers that were left. Beside him Bram at least seemed excited to see Hans as he began to speak, telling of everything going on in the castle.
"It's been so boring without you here! They make me study alone and do all sorts of stuff I don't want to do!" The second youngest whined loudly and reached for an apple. "Plus Klause keeps trying to get me to follow him around and learn everything he does, like it really matters."
Hans listened happily as Bram complained and spoke about the usual goings on as if nothing had changed between the two of them. For the first time in forever he finally felt... normal.
(A/N: This looks like a good enough place to end it for now. I have a decent idea of where I want to go with this story, but getting there has always been a bit of a problem with me. So please be patient for now and I hope you all enjoy my story so far! Please review! Thanks :D