#Aleksiel Pavlichenko

[gabrielwritessometimes]

Aleksiel - I

He had always been forgotten, for as long as he remembered. The second son of Dzar Léviath I, looking ready to drop dead at any second like everyone wished him to. So different from the bright cherished bastard who had everyone wrapped around his little finger. His older brother was amicable and smiling, he was always scowling and glaring, driving them all away to complain to his brother.

But he was clever. At an age where children should just be a drooling mess, he was pondering. Why did he look so much like his father and Nikolaj didn't. Why was he lean despite everything he ate and Nikolaj was fattening ? Why did he look so young despite all his years while Nikolaj aged ?

And then Mikhail was born. Proper, pretty as a doll Mikhail. Always sweetly smiling, a bit shy, handing flowers carefully cut to the servants and nobles alike. All rosy cheeks and cristal clear eyes people lost all worries or anger in. 

Just like his.

To be fair : more like his and so much less like Nikolaj's. Aleksiel knew his place well and kept it as he should. The first born out of wedlock to force his father in a quick union before his birth to secure the birth of a real heir. He didn't mind, because it meant that now he could be forgotten by everyone. Fluttering away like wild goose were the expectations put on him.

He missed it.

Having responsibilities. Being thanked for the slightest thing. Being the only one good at what he did. Being sought for advice or chores. He had unraveled in the knowledge that, maybe, he could become more than a placeholder.

He wasn't.

It hurt.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, the elders used to say in his wake. They were right. Just like his mother who had forgotten about his very existence and manipulated the court, he started planning, scheming. He listened to what was said in hushed voices at dusk, what was whispered before his father entered the council room, what the servants brought back from outside the capital and inside the carefully locked rooms. Slowly but surely, all the puzzle pieces assembled, but he wasn't playing with the same pictures as his same-aged peers. His was far more complex and intricate, full of strings to tie and tear, and the picture was just as ugly as his festering yearning heart.

Nikolaj had noticed and kept trying to right him. Putting more pressure on him, trials to be solved, morals to be heard, people to meet to broaden his mind. Aleksiel was thankful for this. Because he could twist and turn each of these to further cement his convictions and prove Nikolaj he was wrong. And so Nikolaj grew desperate, and Aleksiel grew more and more satisfied. 

So much so that he could finally sleep at night, his heart appeased to know the turmoil he was causing to people who finally cared about him.

Even if it was out of fear and hatred.