Alternatively

Once Upon A Dream (vi.)

He could still feel her hand on his shoulder, even in his dream.

It was warm and he lingered on the pressure as he walked down the snowy path. The powder crunched under his boots and clouds of breath puffed from his lips. The trees were bare and while the stands were reduced to shells covered in white, he knew where he was.

Percy stepped over a snow laden branch, his nose aching in the cold air. He could see those winter days as if they were still playing out, ghosts of his past billowing up around him like smoke. Fires warmed hands in between stands and kids with red noses kicked up flurries as they ran past. Further down, the castle's gates were open, but only a few people filed into the common hall to escape the chill. Candles glowed warmly in the windows, like spots of sun in towers of endless gray clouds.

A bone shaking wind blew right through him and he wrapped his arms around himself, watching as two horses raced by. Their riders were scanning past the merchants and into the shacks and clumped houses, searching for something.

He continued walking, staring at all he ever knew. Even before becoming a prince, he had only been in the castle grounds and the few miles beyond, where the fields were. There was still so much land he had to discover, and he was sure the world ended at Venice. There never was the possibility of more.

"In lieu of His Highness's Prince Triton the Second's death," a booming voice echoed over his head. "The boy Perseus has been declared legitimate and is to be escorted immediately to the palace, where he will be newly christened."

He heard screaming, but it wasn't a woman's shriek of outrage. He didn't have to wander off the main path to know a four year old kid was being ripped his mother's grip, small hands reaching out as she stepped back.

People over lapped and movements blurred together, snow floating in clumps from the cloudy skies. He blinked away a cluster from his eye lashes and he saw a man standing in the middle of the fresh snow. The stands and townsfolk had all faded away, the only noise he heard being the whistling wind that billowed through the man's regal cape.

Piercing green eyes bored holes into Percy and he resisted the urge to shudder, taking a step forward.

"You are not much of a prince, are you?"

His hoodie wasn't thick enough to ward off the cold.

"In fact," Triton's eyes narrowed, dark hair floating around his face. "You are not much of anything."

He had never met his half brother, only seen portraits and heard stories.

"Well? What have you to say for yourself?"

"You haunt me," Percy's lip cracked. "Why?"

His face showed no change of emotion. "You have my crown. My kingdom. My subjects. Crushed in your hand. "

"It's- it's not my fault," his hands curled to fists. "It wasn't like I killed you."

"You speak like the one who did."

Percy shook his head, ice falling from the tips of his hair. "She didn't do anything, her family can't be blamed for what Father did to them."

"So freely you refer to my father as yours," his hand rested on the hilt of the sword at his side. "So freely you slander his decree, as if you have any legitimate right."

"He was wrong, acting without thinking!"

"He brought you out of filth, and you dare criticize?"

He tried to take another step forward, finding the snow up to his knees. "The witches didn't deserve to be hunted, to be killed for what blood ran through their veins because you fell in battle."