T/W:Mentions war.

***

Alas, the good times were not to last for long. A war was coming and it would no doubt effect their kingdom. The king was gathering his army together, preparing for the war. It made S.W. uneasy. He was only seventeen years of age, but he felt he should be old enough to join the battle that was to be fought.

However, the king did not agree. He insisted that S.W. stay behind in the castle in case it was stormed by the opposing army. The king wanted S.W. to protect the queen and Sebastian at all costs. S.W. had no problem with risking his own life to protect his young brother, but he wasn't sure he felt the same way about his stepmother.

He did try desperately to be kind to her; he did. And she tried to be patient and understanding with him. But there was something about her that troubled S.W, though he could not figure out what. Yes, his stepmother seemed kind, patient, understanding, reasonable and decent. But S.W. could not shake this odd feeling he had about her.

Perhaps it was nothing at all, other than S.W.'s personal feelings towards the woman. After all, she seemed to be a wonderful mother to Sebastian, and there was nothing wrong with him. So despite his reservations about the woman, S.W. tried to push the dark, suspicious thoughts out of his mind and instead focused on doing with his father's bidding.

****
"Tomorrow I shall leave with my troops. I hope for all to go well, but this is war, after all. So, I don't know how long I shall be away." The king announced at dinner that evening.

Immediately everyone stopped eating and just sat there. The queen looked troubled but tried her best to put on a brave face. S.W. just stared at his father, feeling anxious and resentful. He'd already lost his mother. Must he lose his father as well? Young Sebastian squirmed in his seat, staring at his dinner plate, occasionally poking at the remains.

He wished desperately that his stepfather would not go to war. He did not remember his own father, who had died when Sebastian was barely two years of age. The king was the only father he knew, and it pained him greatly to think of losing him. At least S.W. would not be going along with his father. That fact alone, comforted Sebastian.

Sebastian was very fond of S.W. He had always wanted a brother and he couldn't have asked for a better one. Not only was S.W. kind and patient, he was also more than willing to play whatever kind of game Sebastian wanted to play. If Sebastian had a real older brother, he doubted that he would things Sebastian wanted to do. So, Sebastian was very pleased about having S.W. as a brother.

"Now, now, " the king said,  trying to keep his tone jovial. "Do not look so downcast! I shall return to you all and we will celebrate with a great feast!"

The queen lifted up her wine cup and smiled.
"Yes, of course, my husband," she agreed with false cheerfulness.

"I do wish you'd let me come with you, Father. I-I'm not a child," S.W. spoke up, his expression hard. "I'm well trained in battle."

"Absolutely not, Solomon Wynter," the king said sternly. S.W. narrowed his eyes at his father, clearly agitated.
"Look, son," the king said in a more kindly tone. "I understand your need and desire to fight beside me in this war. And it would be such an honor and privilege for me. But you must understand, I need you, here, at the castle, in case something should go wrong. I need you here to protect your mother and brother." S.W. moved to pick up his wine cup and took a long drink before replying.

"Stepmother," he corrected before moving to stand up. The king frowned. He did not understand why S.W.  insisted on holding such distain for his stepmother. She had been nothing  but kind and good to him.

"Excuse me, please. I wish to get some fresh air. I feel rather suffocated at the moment," S.W. said stiffly and quickly exited the room. Young Sebastian went back to eating his dinner. The king leaned back in his chair and frowned deeply.

"Do not be troubled over him, my lord. He is only anxious about you going to war," Queen Marguerite said softly.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps he was only thinking of himself!" The king spat out, fury swirling within him.

"We're all troubled over you're going to war, my lord. S.W. only feels it all the more. After all, he's already lost his dear mother. No doubt he's thinking he'll lose you as well," Queen Marguerite said sensibly. The king sighed and nodded, his temper cooling.

"Yes, yes, of course he is. I shall speak with him later on," he said as he went back to eating his dinner.

"Yes, my lord. You must do that. I'd hate to have you leave with such distress between you both," Queen Marguerite said. The king smiled at her as he moved to take her dainty hand.

"That is why I love you, my queen. You are always thinking of others' feelings," he said. Queen Marguerite smiled, too.

"Thank you, my lord."
****

S.W. went out into the gardens that were behind the castle. He adored it here. He smiled to himself as he recalled happier times here with his mother. Oh, how he missed her so! She was such a kind and gentle person, and everyone had adored her.

His father most of all. At least he'd thought so. Until he'd met... Marguerite and suddenly, his father seemed to forget all about his beloved wife. S.W. kicked angrily at a stone lying on the path and it sailed up into the air and landed a few feet away in a large bush, scattering some birds sitting on the branches.

S.W. sat down heavily on one the of the stone benches and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, shoulders hunched up, head down, staring at the ground. It wasn't fair. Why should he have to stay behind to protect someone he did not love? He was the prince. He should not be reduced to such a menial task. There were guards for that sort of task. It should not be up to him. He should be out on the battlefield, alongside his father, fighting valiantly.

Not stuck in some stuffy, old castle, looking after his wicked stepmother. S.W. sighed heavily as he raised his head. Tears pricked his eyes, but he blinked quickly so they wouldn't fall. He felt shame. He was almost eighteen years of age. Much too old to crying over something so silly.

He heard footsteps coming towards him, and he anticipated his father or even his stepmother. But instead, it was young Sebastian. S.W.'s face relaxed into a smile as the young boy came towards him.

"Come to see your brother, who's in a cross mood, have you?" S.W. teased. Sebastian returned the smile as he sat down next to S.W. S.W moved to put his arm across the boy's shoulders and Sebastian immediately leaned close to his older brother.

"I know you are not truly cross, S.W. Only- anxious about your father going away," Sebastian replied. S.W. shifted uncomfortably on the bench. That was some of it, but not all.

"I am. But I also wish to fight," S.W. said. Sebastian moved so he could see S.W.'s face.
"I don't want you to, S.W.! It's hard enough to see my stepfather go to war. I could not bear it if you went as well," he said in an agitated tone.

For the first time, S.W. thought on this. It would be hard on young Sebastian. He was very fond of S.W.

"Then I shall not go, Sebastian. For your sake," S.W. said. Sebastian nodded and moved once again to lean against S.W.

"Despite what you think, my mother does care about you, S.W., She does," Sebastian said softly.

I know," S.W. muttered. He did know. He just had a hard believing it. S.W. absently stroked Sebastian's thin arm. He suddenly had a memory come to him. Of him cuddled close to his mother in this very garden. Tears once again pricked S.W.'s eyes.

Then before he could stop them, they were sliding down his face and dripping off his chin. He wiped roughly at his face, ashamed for allowing a simple memory to undo him. Sebastian moved and looked at him.

Do not pity me," S.W. whispered more harshly than he meant to.

"I don't," Sebastian murmured. He moved and hugged S.W. tightly and S.W. clung to the small boy.

"Why are you so sad?" Sebastian asked.

"I-I miss my...mother," S.W. replied. Sebastian hugged him harder.

"I am sorry for that. But I am here. I-I know it is not much, but it is something," Sebastian whispered. S.W. nodded.

"Yes, Sebastian. It is something. Thank you," S.W. said.

"You're very welcome," Sebastian said.