Title: A Day With His Heirs
Author: Sedri
Rating: G / K+
Genre: Humour / Family
Characters: The old king, all his sons, and Una
Words: 1,191
Summary: During a winter carnival, the King of Stormhold spends a day with his children, teaching them to be cunning. Or, trying to.

DISCLAIMER: Stardust is in no way mine; I'm just having a bit of fun.

Author's Notes:
Just to clarify, I've put all the Stormhold children in a very close age range, presuming there was a birth every year or so; you can decide for yourself how old each of them are. I see Septimus as no less than two or three, and Primus no more than thirteen. I am placing Una's birth between Quintus and Sextus. It doesn't really matter; you simply need to know that she's in the age group of the younger brothers.
Credit must also go to my sister, who helped come up with the original idea.

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A Day With His Heirs
by Sedri

Every year, in the Grand Courtyard of Stormhold Palace, a festival was held to celebrate the midwinter solstice. Snow was shovelled to the edges of the massive circle and within, hundreds of colourful stalls were set up, ranging from the best of Market Town's ragtag peddlers to ostentatious shows paid for by the city's noblemen. Everything was brightly lit and vividly coloured, swirls of rich fabrics and the wonderful, enticing smell of hot pastries and melting chocolate. Some said that the winter carnival had become too coarse over the last few years – more suited to peasants than the kingdom's well-bread wealthy – but few could deny that they enjoyed the single day of careless festivities, and so it went on, every year, just the same.

And every year, King Decadus, eighty-first King of all Stormhold, would personally take all of his children out amongst the stalls, buying them those trinkets he deemed worthy and narrating long stories about their ancestors, and how each one rose to power. He did not do so out of fondness, and certainly not love, but because his children had a duty to their blood, and the constant attention of their mother and nurses was not, in his opinion, strong enough guidance for sons who must one day fight to the death for his crown. As each son got older Decadus would take time to tutor them in the ways of succession, ensuring their ability to compete until only one remained, but for now only the four eldest boys could properly understand his teachings.

Spending a day with their father wasn't quite as fun for the young princes and princess as

wandering around freely, but they delighted in the rare and dazzling colour and looked forward to it every year – save for little Septimus, who had never been before and didn't understand all this noise and strange people; he spent the day clinging to his father's cloak, sucking his thumb.

"…his surviving son was King Tertius the Fourth," their father said loudly, and Prince Tertius beamed as though he was the one being praised. "This was nearly seven hundred years ago. Tertius the Fourth had seventeen brothers – even more than I did – and defeated them all. It was one of the most famous crownings in all our history, because Tertius the Four-"

"Father!" his daughter suddenly cried. "Father, look!" Una grabbed his big hand and pulled him towards a display booth filled with porcelain dolls.

"Una," he said sharply, "you know you are not to interrupt me."

Her little face fell and she let go, standing straight in the proper manner she had been taught since infancy. "'m sorry," she said quietly, and her voice betrayed a hint of tears.

Decadus sighed; women. "You are forgiven, Una. What is it you want?"

She pointed up – straight up, actually – to a little doll in a blue dress. Her father paused, examined it, then deemed the craftsmanship sufficient for a royal daughter. He nodded, and the delighted shopkeeper hurried to bring it down, and offered Una a matching ribbon for her hair, glancing repeatedly at his king for permission.

Irritated, Decadus allowed it, then led the children on. "Tertius the Fourth was extremely cunning," he continued. "He knew he would never be safe until they were all dead, and so he contrived to-"

"Wha's 'contwived'?" asked Sextus.

"'Contrived' means 'planned'," said his father. "You see, King Tertius was found dead on the morning of his eighteenth birthday, and with so many brothers still alive, it was no surprise that none of them claimed responsibility. Why is that?"

"Because no brother wanted to appear threatening, Father," Secundus recited, hands clasped behind his small red coat, "or the others might have tried to assi… assasis… assasnin - get rid of him."

"Assassinate," his father corrected with a frown – Secundus was old enough to know that word by now. "But yes, correct. Very good."

Secundus beamed.

Decadus continued, leading his children up to the large dais on which his throne waited, empty, for the official ceremony later that night. "Tertius the Fourth was not dead; he hid, in the depths of the palace, for nine years, until his father died in a riding accident. At the time, ten of his brothers were still alive and, as Tertius predicted, they murdered each other very quickly, and very brutally. At last, only Octavius was left, and at his coronation ceremony, on this very spot, Tertius walked up and simply pushed him off."

Awed, the brothers scurried to the edge of the stone platform, looking down. The drop was shallow now because huge amounts of snow had been piled there, clearing the courtyard. Decadus frowned and added, "This was in summer, of course. Octavius fell onto stone."

"What if the coronation had been in winter?" Primus asked.

"King Tertius would probably have used his sword. Like this-" he said suddenly, snatching the wooden toy sword from Secundus' belt and lunging at Primus.

Primus yelped and jumped back, crashing into Quartus and knocking him off the platform.

There was a scream and a thump, and Decadus leaned over to see his fourth son lying in the sludge, unharmed but soaked and shivering. Primus was horrified. "Quartus!" he shouted. "Quartus, I'm sorry, are you all right? I'm so sorry…" he babbled, scrambling to climb down and help his angry little brother.

Decadus groaned.

Secundus saw this. He knew he was a better prince than Primus and was determined to prove it to their father. He looked around and saw his brothers crowded at the edge, and picked the easiest target; Tertius.

"Father!" he called, and everyone looked up as Secundus sprinted forward, arms stretched out towards his terrified brother, and he-

-slipped, on a patch of ice, falling flat on his face.

Their father sighed. "Secundus, you always forget; no one should see what you are doing. They need only see the result."

Quintus grinned; no one was looking, so he simply shoved the closest person; Una.

She shrieked as she fell, her pretty new doll slipping out of her hands. It landed head-first in the snow, Una burst into tears. Primus, who was already being yelled at by Quartus, ignored him to pick up his baby sister, patting her shoulder and promising her that no, dolly was fine, dolly would be all right...

"Quintus," their father said through gritted teeth, "you do not kill your sister…"

But then Sextus, who didn't quite understand the point of this game, shouted "Me too!" and made a running leap off the side, landing on Quartus, who started shouting all over again.

There was no chance for Decadus to scold him because suddenly there was a sharp blow to the back of his knee. He stumbled and turned around. "Septimus?"

With a bright smile and in a very small, cute voice, Septimus pointed and said, "You fall!"

Burying his face in his hands, gripping his hair in frustration, King Decadus of Stormhold called for the nurses to take away his cold, bruised and weeping children. He gave a long sigh.

Perhaps he should look into a contingency plan. Just in case.