DISCLAIMER: All the characters mentioned in this story belong to MCA/Universal and Renaissance pictures. They are making me absolutely no money at all, this just ABSOLUTELY for the fun of it, and as I am only borrowing them, I will return them, quite safe and sound once this little tale is concluded!
BY MAGGIE
He had never had a lot of choice.
Of the two brothers, he was the elder and as such was next in line for the throne. Nevertheless, he knew that his father would have preferred Minos take over for him. If he had been king of a lesser town or province, he could have changed the laws of succession and named his heir, but Attica was not such a place and he had not had that luxury.
Orestes had always known of his father's preference; had been aware of it for as long as he could remember and although he had never shown it, it had slowly carved out a hollow place inside him, where his strength should have been. It hadn't helped that he was never much of a warrior either. His father had commented more than once, that Orestes had more of his mother in him, than him, and Orestes couldn't deny it. He had hated the combat lessons he had had to suffer through, and felt guilty because of it; he was expected to have all the attributes of a ruler, and in these troubled times, a king needed to be a warrior too, if he was going to hang onto his kingdom and protect his people.
He couldn't even shoot a bow and arrow straight. The final indignity. Minos was only fair in any of these physical activities but had always shown at least more aptitude than his older brother. Minos' problem was that he lacked confidence and, truth be told, was a bit of a coward at heart. Orestes shook his head, laughing bitterly at the supreme irony of the situation; one brother equipped but afraid, the other willing but without the skills.
"My father must have *really* upset some god to have been so interestingly cursed in his progeny," he muttered to himself, watching the guards drilling in the courtyard below. Drilling, he knew, to be ready for the celebrations the next day. Oh gods, the coronation, the marriage to that supremely talented, supremely obediant girl, Niobe. She was no fun, no fun at all. Being married to her would be boring and inconvenient and ... embarrassing, dammit! She was at least a whole head taller than he was by now, or at least, that was what he had heard in the last report, and she was such a prim-and-proper young woman. She always knew just the right thing to do, the right thing to say and she never, ever made a fool of herself. The worst of it was, that not only was she something of an accomplished fighter herself, but she wasn't afraid of using her skills. Even when they had been children she could wrestle him to the ground, beat him at swordplay, outshoot and even outrun him. Her hunting skills were marvelled at, whereas his were often the source of ribald amusement.
So, in his own defense, he had worked on doing what he could to dislike her and encourage that dislike in others. Despair was a constant companion as he grew up and its influence grew as he did.
Staring absently over the forest beyond the walls of the town, Orestes sighed heavily, his air matching the leaden weight in his heart. Even the promise of his batchelor party, scheduled for this evening couldn't raise his spirits much. He wished with all of his heart and soul that he could have been born someone else, someone without the cares and responsibilities of a future king, someone who could mix with whomever he pleased, without having to worry about what others thought of him. Of course, realistically that meant that he would have been a commoner, but Orestes almost thought that the advantages would outweigh the hardships.
For the tenth time that morning, Orestes flung himself back on his bed and contemplated disguising himself under a hood and cloak, and then sneaking out of the palace, out of Attica, never to return. He had seriously considered at least four times out of the ten, but had always come to the same conclusion; he wouldn't last five days out there. After all, he would need to make a living just to eat, and what could he do?
Nothing. He couldn't bring to mind one single thing that he could do to earn himself enough to live on. Or even anything at all.
"For dinner, I need dinars," he snorted in disgust, absently pulling on his boots and reaching for his outer tunic. "I mean, look at me; I'm not even really dressed yet, haven't had any breakfast and it's nearly noon already ... Oh gods, I just want to forget about all this!" and reaching instinctively for his bow and quiver of arrows, he stomped out of his room, heading for the yard, where he had seen Hector and Linus taking the guards through their paces.
They were the only two people in the household whom he felt remotely comfortable with. He knew what they thought of him, but for some reason, he also knew that to some degree they cared about him, Hector because he had been in Orestes company throughout his life more than anyone else and Linus because he had been about the same age as Orestes and although not in the same station in life, the two boys had more or less grown up together. He had made better company than Minos at any rate. Both had witnessed Orestes struggles with his own ineptitude and the resulting lack of friendship and respect from the others around him, particularly his brother and father.
Entering the courtyard, Orestes hailed the two companions.
"Hector! Linus! I want to go hunting one last time before I'm trussed up forever! C'mon!" and without bothering to see whether they were following, Orestes marched straight out of the gate into the forest beyond.
He smiled as he heard the feet running in hasted behind him to catch up; they had never let him down. As he ventured farther into the forest, he reflected sadly that they were probably the nearest he would ever come to having friends.
'Yeah, just one more hunt before my life has to be over and I become king,' he brooded. Who was he kidding, *hunt*? Like he was actually going to *hit* anything! Well, no matter. For some reason he found the action of drawing the bow back, pretending to aim at something and then releasing the arrow, rather relaxing. It helped him to think pleasant thoughts instead of suffocating ones.
Feeling better already, he stopped near a clearing, having sighted what looked like a deer through the trees and sighting as close as he could, loosed an arrow. The deer ran off in fright.
'Oh well, can't expect too much; I haven't warmed up yet ...'
Hector and Linus were saying something about his strategy, Orestes wasn't really listening, his mind just beginning to drift off into nicer thoughts of the fun he was going to have at his party later that day ...
Who was that fool, shouting?
Orestes came forward, curious to see who it was who was providing so much interest to his two companions. What he saw turned his whole day upside down, not to mention his apathy.
'Gods in Olympus, he looks just like me!' he thought, amazed at the unbelievable serendipity of it all. He asked who the man was - a rhetorical question, as Hector and Linus clearly had no more idea than he had. Nevertheless ...
He wasn't sure exactly why he thought this but at the back of his mind was a tiny voice whispering that perhaps, for the first time in his life, the gods had decided to be kind to him and he would be able to escape the onerous duties of a king after all ...
The End
And for the sequel to this story, set after, 'KING FOR A DAY', go to ANOTHER STEP.
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