Member-only story
The Prince’s Crown: Chapter One
Fantasy/Romance. A young man discovers strange secrets whilst attempting to escape his father’s control.
In Victorian England, a young and sickly Norwegian immigrant, Ansgar “Forseti” Borson, quarrels with his father over what his future is to be.
The man is stern, cold, and distant, and never seems satisfied with anything Forseti pursues, seems disappointed with every facet of him and yet will never explain why. In secret, Forseti escapes these punishing expectations by dedicating himself to something very unorthodox indeed: magic.
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Will be rated E and will contain lots of sex and magic when I get to it.
Half a decade ago I pursued the raw concept of this idea in an unfinished Grandmaster/Loki Marvel fanfic called The Faerie Ring, but I lacked the skill to really execute it to its full potential, let alone to complete it. This story is going to bear some similarity to that original story, but I have quite a different plot planned — I just wanted to mention it in case it struck people as familiar.
“Ansgar! Stop!”
Forseti’s heels clicked as he hurriedly descended the stairs, his back straight, his chin high, the very image of masculine grace despite the speed with which he moved. He swept his coat from its hook in the entrance hall, sliding it onto his shoulders as a cowl before he placed his hat upon his head. He pulled on his gloves as he stepped out of doors, and it was only when Forseti crossed over the threshold that he heard Tor thunder down the stairs behind him.
With such speed could his brother move, and with such heft behind his feet! Forseti’s brother might as well be an elephant.
“Ansgar,” Tor said again, coming to fall into step beside him still in his shirt sleeves, not even wearing his coat, and Forseti wondered briefly what the neighbours must think, to see his brother in such a state of undress, yelling at him in the street.
“Good afternoon, brother,” Forseti bade him farewell, making to turn away, but Tor’s hand gripped tightly at Forseti’s wrist, so tightly that the skin smarted, and Forseti hissed out a sound of pain.
