(A/N- This is just something I wrote for a project in English class. Man, it's hard to fit a decent plotline into 5 pgs, double-spaced! Yeesh! Anyway, hope ya' enjoy! Please review! -I.I.)

Love Thy Brother

By Irony Illuminator

Michael peered out the window, squinting as lightning flashed on the horizon. As the menacing rumble of thunder responded, the young farmer snatched his cloak from the hook next to the door and slipped out into the gathering storm.

He struggled his way from the hut, where he lived, to the small barn nearby, fighting the force of the howling wind. The horses reared at his entrance, fighting their halters until they realized who he was. They calmed as he worked, refilling their feedbags.

Lightning struck again, casting harsh light through the barn. And there, in the corner by the door, a shadow moved.

The farmer froze, staring at that spot. The shadow moved again. It moved toward him.

Michael inched backward slightly, reaching for something, some kind of weapon. The shadow was moving steadily now, creeping ever closer.

Right at that moment, the lightning flashed again, revealing the previously half-hidden tableau. The shadow became a darkly cloaked man with a knife in his hand. Michael stumbled backwards in surprise; his hand grazed something smooth and slender, and he grabbed it. The barn plunged into darkness once more.

A flame flickered suddenly, bobbing on a match between two long fingers. Michael watched as the man reached up and lit one of the empty lanterns hanging from a post. Now the farmer could better see his intruder. He was young, younger than Michael.

The stranger cocked his head to one side, a curious, amused expression on his face; it was the quite the contrast to the air of raw, bitter anger he bore. He gestured to Michael’s hands, and the farmer discovered that he was holding a wooden pole in his hands, the end caught in a pile of straw.

“Interesting choice of weapon,” the younger man commented, lips twitching.

Michael cleared his throat. “It was, ah, on hand.”

“I see.” The stranger studied him silently.

“Ah… So what brings you all the way out here?” Michael inquired. Specifically into my barn, at night, with a knife, during a storm…

“Oh, nothing terribly important,” the young man said nonchalantly. “It’s just that I’m supposed to kill you.”

“I see.” Wonderful. “Well, it’s very considerate of you to let me know beforehand.”

“No problem. Figured it was the least I could do for you, your Highness.”

Michael blinked. “Pardon?”

“I’m sorry; I suppose it’s rather a shock to hear that title after so many years, isn’t it?” the stranger mocked. “Does ‘Prince Michael V’ ring any bells?”

“Maybe some very quiet ones,” Michael replied calmly. “What do you want?”

“Well, see, I have this little problem. Seeing as the King has just died, the kingdom’s in a bit of an uproar. They’re trying to figure out who’s going to take the throne. Turns out that I have a claim to it; unfortunately, you’re in my way.”

“How am I in your way?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You’re in my way because you’re alive. My task is to rectify that.” He gave a little mock bow. “Hence my presence here. Does that explanation satisfy you?”

“Well, I’m satisfied, but I’d certainly be a lot happier if you weren’t about to kill me.”

“I suppose that’s to be expected.” The intruder shook his head. “You are a talker, aren’t you? Enough of idle chatter; I have a coronation to attend.” He moved forward, lifting his knife. The light from the lantern reflected in his glittering eyes. Michael found his back against the wall, gripping his pole tightly, and the other man laughed, noticing the action. “If you can best me with a pole, I deserve to be beaten,” he said, amused.

“I’d say you deserve to be beaten anyway,” Michael said with a scowl. He flipped the pole, causing the other end to come flying out of the straw, revealing the sharp prongs of a pitchfork. He then proceeded to level that end on the intruder before the man could even react. “You were saying…?”

The other gaped at the pitchfork. “Uh…” He glanced at his knife. “At this point, I’d say the odds are slightly in your favor.”

“So it would seem,” Michael returned coldly. However, in one lithe movement, the younger man turned the tables by reaching up and snuffing out the flame within the lantern. Darkness fell over the barn, accompanied by the intruder’s curses over his burnt fingers. The two men stumbled around in the blackness, trying to find each other. Eventually, they both stopped moving and the only sound was their heavy breathing.

Lightning flashed.

Michael turned at that moment and found his enemy creeping up behind him. He quickly brought the flat side of the pitchfork down on the younger man’s head before the intruder could hold his knife to Michael’s throat. The other man staggered backwards and crashed against the wall of the barn, weakly muttering more curses.

The farmer quickly relit the lantern, surveying the damage. The intruder rubbed his head. “Curses on your pitchfork,” he muttered. Michael stepped forward and bent down, retrieving the other man’s knife; it had been lost during the scuffle. “Why didn’t you run me through?” the latter inquired curiously, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

“Because, Gabriel,” Michael replied calmly. “I make it a habit not to kill my brother.”

Gabriel blinked and then gave a short laugh. “I didn’t think you’d figure it out,” he remarked.

“Perhaps being a farmer has increased my intelligence,” Michael suggested blandly.

“Perhaps. You did disarm me with a pitchfork, after all.” The younger brother shook his head suddenly. “I think maybe you need a dose of reality, Michael. I just tried to murder you for the crown, and you’re carrying on a civil conversation with me. Isn’t there something wrong with that?”

“From a certain viewpoint, I suppose,” the farmer said, leaning against a post. One of his horses reached out and nudged his shoulder, whinnying softly, and he absently stroked its nose. “Look, I remember how it was to live in the capital city, in the palace, a member of the royal family. If I had remained there, I might have tried to do the same thing. You know, get you out of the way. That’s partly why I left and came here.”

“You wouldn’t have tried that,” the would-be assassin said bitterly. “You’re too good for that, and plus, you’re the oldest. You’d have just taken the crown and locked me in an insane asylum, or something like that.” He sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. “Maybe I belong there anyway.”

“Maybe,” his older brother replied enigmatically.

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. You knew I was coming, didn’t you? That’s why you’re not fazed by all of this. That’s why you weren’t alarmed when you realized you were holding a wooden pole, while I had a knife. You knew it was a pitchfork. You-” He glared furiously. “You knew everything! How?!”

“You remember our cousin, Alicia, don’t you? She’s always known where I was. I guess you weren’t very discreet about your plans, because she found out about it and came and told me you’d be coming.”

“That conniving little sneak,” Gabriel muttered. Michael gave him a look, and the younger man wilted slightly. “Okay, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I tried to…you know. I don’t know if I even could have gone through with it. I guess I was just trying to scare you.” His mouth twisted. “I probably should have known better than to try such a thing, right?”

Michael smiled wryly. “I’m your brother, Gabriel. I would hope that you’d know me fairly well after all these years.”

Gabriel scowled. “So what are you going to do with me, big brother? Tie me up and bury me alive in your cellar?”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t have a cellar.”

Gabriel made a face. “Good grief, Michael; don’t keep me in suspense. What are you going to do with me?”

The older man was silent for a moment. Then he walked forward and bent down, offering his brother a hand. “I have some food in the house,” he said quietly. “You hungry?”

Gabriel stared at Michael’s hand for a while, wearing a very strange expression. Finally he accepted his brother’s hand. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, I think I am.”