Heir of Obsidian (A Throne of Glass Fanfic)

4 - Benji Whitethorn-Galathynius

Benji Whitethorn-Galathynius trudged into the palace dining room, his eyes still squinted with sleep and golden locks tousled. Warily, he glanced at the massive clock located on the far wall of the room: 7 o'clock. He sighed, utterly perplexed at why he'd decided to rise at such an ungodly hour.

Although the palace was often renowned for its stunning architecture, the palace dining room was relatively simple in its design. Red and gold-accentuated walls stretched high to the ceiling, bedecked with portraits of various rulers who had come before his mother, Aelin. Morning light seeped through a single, wide window on the wall directly across from him, casting a warm glow on his fine features and providing a prime view of the courtyards' centre.

One, fatigued step after the other, Benji slowly approached the middle of the room and the massive, oak dining table centered there. The rest of his family were already settled at the table, treating themselves to a kings' breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast. The strong, greasy smell of bacon drifted towards him, causing his stomach to grumble in anticipation.

As he approached his seat, he examined the three other Whitethorn-Galathynius' already seated at the unnecessarily-large table. At the head sat his mother, Aelin Whitethorn-Galathynius. Like Benji's, Aelin's hair was golden and unbound – as pure and beautiful as the morning light. Her stomach was large and swollen, speaking of an ongoing pregnancy which annoyed her to no end. Having to 'rest' and 'relax' so that she did not disturb the precious baby in her womb had caused her to become skittish, and a gigantic pain in Benji's ass. As her bright, turquoise eyes locked upon his own, a small smirk emerged upon her beautiful, delicate face. Benji gave a small, tired smile back, knowing that if he didn't she would indeed let him be dragged through the dust during his sparring sessions later that day.

Beside his mother sat his white-haired father, Rowan Whitethorn-Galathynius. Rowan inclined his head in good morning, and a grin emerged on Benji's tanned face; his father was likely the person he respected most in his life. The adoring love he had for his wife and determination to ensure his kids would grow up to be remembered and honorable had given Benji a means to impress, and his rare praise was worth the world.

Slowly, he pulled a heavy, oaken chair out from the table and took a seat beside the last member of the family, his sister. He turned his amber eyes upon Bryn Whitethorn-Galathynius, annoyance emerging on his features as he regarded her perfect, curly ashen hair and freshly pressed tunic. Of course, no matter the hour, Bryn looked perfect.

At age nineteen, his sister was only a year older than him, and, of course, as she never let him forget, the rightful heir of Terresan. Although his mother and father made an effort to spend as much time as possible with both of them, somehow, Bryn always ended up favoured – the one that his parents seemed to regard as more 'important'. Her pointed blue eyes held a look of feigned innocence as she regarded the annoyance upon his face.

"Did you sleep alright?" She inquired pointedly, "You look like a Ruk dragged you through the mud," she said in a feigned whisper, chuckling at his expense. A small smile fought its way from Aelin's lips as she looked between the drastic difference in appearances of her two children. His father simply shook his head .

"I'm fine," Benji snapped. "And don't make fun of me," he added angrily, "It's early in the morning, what do you expect?"

"We've already been up for two hours, running errands and organising meetings," Aelin accentuated, returning to her meal, "you have no reason to be so rude when we've been running this kingdom while you sleep." She brought her silver fork to her plate, precisely stabbing a slice of honey-bacon and lifting it to her mouth. "Besides," she mumbled between chews, "you'll have to start rising earlier soon, the holidays are almost over. If you're to keep up with your training schedule, you'll have to wake up at least at five." She reached for the mug resting beside her plate, and took a large draft of the steaming, brown liquid inside. Benji wrinkled his nose in distaste as the thick, organic smell of coffee drifted towards him.