Denys wasn't particularly happy about the arrival of a new sibling. One that wasn't blood related no less. If the baby and himself weren't bound by blood, then what could possibly be tying the two together? Little William sat across from him. He could feel the infant's eyes prying into his soul, observing the essence that made up his character. Denys stared back, but not with hatred. It was something else altogether. Indifference, he could say. How could he bring himself to hate the kid when the kid who was pried away from his mother's arms was standing his ground instead of running away in tears? The boy was giving him a chance, and for that, Denys had to try and do the same.
So far William wanted nothing to do with his new mother and father. He threw tantrums whenever his mother picked him up and attempted to bond with him. He cried whenever his father tried crooning him to sleep. Little William kept his tantrums in check whenever he was around Denys. Denys couldn't quite explain it, but it made him feel special in a way. If all went well, there was much the seven year old boy could teach the baby. Someday, William would be heir to the Geneolgia throne. Denys had to do everything in his power to prepare him for that. He himself would rule first, and he could teach the helpless baby how to do the things he could do.
The baby simply sat and stared at him for a long period of time. His eyes were wide and filled with fear. He wanted his mother back. A new father figure was now in his life. It was a change, as the infant never had a father figure in the small amount of time he'd been in the world for. His lip quivered as he mulled over these memories. A small part of him felt neglected. Did his mother simply not want him anymore? The woman who'd birthed, raised, and cherished him as her happy, bouncing baby boy?
He cried again, knowing that these new people would never be able to understand what was going on in his mind. He wanted his home back. William considered crying out for his mother, but something in his brother's challenging eyes told him not to. Whining was a sign of negativity. Hesitantly, he picked up a dried apricot, plopped it into his mouth, and relished in its dry, flaky taste.
"There you go, Will," Denys said, smiling at the baby. He nodded his head faintly with approval. "Just get used to it here. Only the strong survive, and whiners finish before they even get a chance to start." Denys noticed his gaze harden, and shook the negativity from his head. He couldn't let his brother view him as some sort of tyrant with nothing good in his heart.
Will continued munching on his apricots. The faces he made as he savoured every new taste made Denys laugh uncontrollably. It was hard to tell if he was merely mimicking his behaviour or otherwise, but William laughed as well, drooling down his chubby chin. With the support of the little table residing in the middle of the large room, he stood, faltered on his feet, but made it to his older brother and plummeted into his shins. He'd smacked his head off his brother's seemingly body of steel, and a bruise emerged on his forehead. Denys panicked, though little Will wasn't even in tears. He wasn't even worried about his parents finding out. He was worried about Will's well-being. A green bruise told him that his brother wasn't okay.
He could do nothing. There was no snow outside to put on his head to ease the swelling. All Denys could do was hold him and kiss the bruise better before his parents showed up and somehow blamed the incident on him. Moments later his mother showed up and took him away to be cared for. Now Will was in tears. He kicked and screamed for the comfort of his brother, not this woman who was trying to be his mother when he knew full well that she wasn't. She had him slung over her shoulder, scowling at Denys before departing. Denys put a fist to his forehead, his mouth in a taut line. "Headstrong," he mouthed. "Whiners finish last."