Chapter 1:Fire and water.  (POV Dorian.)

"Wield your heart, and the world will tremble."- A game of crowns, Volume 2. 

"Can't I wield my heart for something more peaceful?" Dorian mused as he shut the book at the sound of heavy footfalls. "Please don't be-" 

The door swung open, and nearly off its hinges. He recognized the sound all too well.

"Hello father." Dorian balled his hands into fists but kept a neutral, polite smile on his face. 

"SON!" His father Gregori, towered over him with a look of contempt and rage contorting his face. "Why, why in the name of the sacred ashes must you do everything you can to make your father’s heart ache? To sully your family name? To sully MINE?" Dorian's face broke into a wry smile. "I'm afraid I don't-" "QUIET!" Gregori's voice boomed across his room, shaking it. "Spare me your honeyed words, you don't train enough. You don't even hone your swordplay and you certainly do not even try to increase your endurance.”

His eyes glowed a dark vermillion color, a wave of fury crashed through him. “By the scared ashes you even refuse to attend your meetings. Instead you read, play with damned water and stare at your book collection." He bared his teeth and bowed over his son. 

"I do sing at taverns, people know me! They love me!" Dorian flashed him a cheerful grin

"Yes. As a bard, foolish bard. A bard, who doesn't care to master any instrument besides a violin and his throat." The king grunted and put his hand on his son's shoulder. "You are a prince, Dorian. A dragon cares not if the sheep think little of him." He leaned closer and squeezed his shoulder harshly. "Because he rules them. Because they are less. You are already a disgrace enough to me, you damned Sirenborn. Look at your older brother and your younger sister! Lochaine’s a Flameborn, like me. But you…no. It's as if you wanted to make my life a joke from the day you opened your eyes. Even your little sister Eveline is better then you.”

He sighed and it blew Dorian's milk off its tray, spilling it on the floor. 

"Eveline's a powerless..." he mumbled under his breath. 

"HA! Your little sister may be a powerless but she's done more for Cintra and her family then you ever will. And to think that’s while she’s just 18, and you? What have you done  during your 19 years of life? None. At least she seduced the king of Sylvari and married the old goat." A devious grin graced the king's face. "All those soldiers...all those tamed animals! Living, breathing trees. And giants." He glanced into the flames of the fireplace. "We'll rain down hellfire on the neighboring kingdoms. All will know the banner of the dragon." He lifted his hand and his eyes bored into his son's. 

"Join the feast. Tomorrow we will discuss your future…" his eyes darted around the elegantly decorated room, filled with small fountains, bookshelves, wardrobes and mirrors. "…son." 

Dorian sighed and rose to his feet. "Father…" he muttered bitterly, raising his trembling hand, he brought it to a small fountain and breathed a small sigh of relief. "I hate them." He said in a shaking voice. "All of them."

Dorian took a sharp breath and walked into the great hall taking in the hall in all its beauty. 

Dozens of brightly colored torches and candles illuminated the hall and the royal banners decorating the room. His eyes darted to the portrait of his father in all his glory, standing on top a mountain of corpses, slaves and soldiers alike. 

"Some glory..." He mumbled under his breath. 

He took in the shining golden cutlery and the dozens of voices of nobles and maid's, feeling nothing short of left out when he thought of himself as a nobleman, a prince. A lousy, failure of a prince. He should've been born a commoner maybe then he…" 

"Prince Dorian! Prince Dorian is here!" He was shaken from his thoughts by the shrill voice of an aging duchess. Some of the nobles have already noted the prince's presence and smiled and waved with practiced grace and bows. But his attention was instantly elsewhere, at the maids, the giggling and working ones alike. 

"Hey Miri." He spoke smoothly, like a dark melodious song. "Milord." The girl replied mid-curtsy. "Take care now…especially tonight." His eyes looked into dark haired maid's with a mischievous smile. "I would never do anything to get into trouble! Trouble just finds me." She replied with a shrug and a twinkle in her emerald eyes. He tilted his head and raised a brow. "I'm serious Miri, my father's already taking a piss at me." She stifled a giggle. "What'd ya do this time? Ooo did you sculpt something with water again?" 

Dorian grinned. "No," he fixed her with a deadpan look. "I dared to read in my room." She faked a gasp. "The horror!" She rolled her eyes then sighed softly. "At least you can read." 

A low chuckle escaped his lips, "slaves aren't supposed to read." He shook his head, then froze. He looked into Miri's blazing eyes. "Prick…" her voice was low and cold. 

"All of you royals are rotten." She snarled and turned around, walking away as fast as she could. 

"I'm-" he moved a hand to her shoulder, but she flinched away from his touch. "Highness, if you don't mind I would like to continue my duties. Shall I tidy your room?" Her tone was as neutral and polite as the day she met him at Serving’s day and chose her as his personal maid. Dorian cursed himself then shrugged, he struggled to find the words or the strength to muster a proper apology. "If you want." She gritted her teeth and left. "Fire take you." 

He set a small step forward to go after her before he was spun around like a rag doll. 

"Ah, my son! Seems you've got noble blood in your sorry hide after all." 

Dorian felt his heart sink into his chest. He wanted nothing more then to chase after Miri and tell her how sorry he is. Even as he questioned if he should apologize for what he said, she was after all, a slave. But he knew he hurt her and that was enough, he wanted to make his father to grovel beneath his feet, he wanted to beat some sense into the nobles for all their blindness to the suffering under their rule, he wanted-" 

"Ashes, boy! Are you going to gawk at me or greet your king?" 

"Apologies, father." He bowed deeply and swallowed down his pride.

And the urge to punch his father in his face. 

Gregori stared down at him in disgust. "He has better manners then your average nobleman's son. I swear your highness." 

Dorian glanced up, and his met that of another royal's. "Princess Lumina of Hyria. At your service prince Dorian." She curtsies and raises her hand. “And don’t worry. My younger sister Dawn has much worse manners but I still adore her.” 

He didn't need to disguise his radiant smile as he listened to her voice, like a fresh breeze on a summer day, Dorian thought. "Charmed, your majesty." He kisses her hand and took in her stunning ivory dress, elaborately decorated with diamonds and patterns of suns and stars. "Truly. My heart beats faster at your beauty." Lumina giggled, widening his smile. "Ashes, boy! Contain your urges." 

Lumina burst into gentle laughter. "You southerners and your curse words! Not that It isn't interesting." 

King Gregori grinned. "Thank you, Princess Lumina. It is good to hear our culture being appreciated. I am sure our kingdoms will prosper together." Dorian's smile lost its authenticity as he looked into the king's eyes. Liar. He thought, Liar and murderer. 

"But ah, listen to me talk! My son Dorian will join his brother Lochaine in our crusade against the Rainlands of Kaeleigh." Dorian's eyes widened, he felt his heartbeat quicken en fear paling his face. "We're invading the Lyrians? “The Rain kingdom? Are you mad father?" Gregori gave him a dark, humorless laugh. 

"We're not invading, we're bringing our prosperity and the blessed beauty of our banners to their lost souls." 

Dorian raised an eyebrow. "I doubt they'll see us as a blessing when we slaughter their sons and daughters then burn their homes." He shakes his head and massages his temples. "This is going to cost-" his mouth fell open as realization dawned on his face. "You're…sending me to war? To fight? To kill?" His father nodded curtly. "I need to go…" he stumbled into a passing maid and fell down, getting food and refreshments all over him, silencing the crowd of nobles. "You're an embarrassment Dorian. No. You're a spineless twat. Perhaps war will shape you into what you are meant to be. Or perhaps it will shatter you like a dozen of broken mirrors. It matters little to me." He briefly glanced into the crowd of shocked faces. "Leave. Ready yourself, you leave at dawn." His father continued to speak but Dorian heard very little, save for a few concerned words of Lumina. He clumsily rose to his feet and ran away as fast as his feet could take him.

He stormed into his room and stared down at Miri scrubbing the floors. 

"Excuse me." She piped, not looking up. "I'm trying very hard to scrub these floors squeaky clean and these shoes," She tapped on Dorian's feet. "Are not squeaky clean. They don't even match the tiles! Wait…" She sniffed then tilted her head. "Is that booze?" Dorian stared at her numbly. Miri sniffed again then shrugged and started scrubbing his shoes. "Might as well give these a good scrub if you're just gonna stand there like a statue. I'm gonna miss the smell of booze though." She briefly paused. "I could go for some booze actually." Miri bit her lip and giggled lightly, mostly to herself. "Maybe I could snatch some of his royal assness, I know where his stash is ya know? Actually if you don't mind…" she jumped to her feet with ease and skipped to a lone bookshelf then pulled a few books in a oddly specific order. A soft clicking noise came from the shelf and a brand new shelf filled with rows of alcoholic beverages reveled itself. She spinned on her feet to face him.  "Tadaa!- Ah, piss." 

"This isn't what it…" Miri looked at the shelf of enticing bottles then casually shrugged. "Could I at least have a drink before ya turn me in?”

Dorian slowly shakes his head. "You're…Fine." 

Her face lit up like a star. "Flames kiss ya!" She wasted no time grabbing a bottle then chugging it down. Dorian blinks then scratches his head. "You…you…" 

Miri stops her drinking then glances at him, "Hmm? Me?" 

He closes the doors behind him then blankly stares at his maid. "First of all-" 

She rolled her eyes and continued drinking. "You didn't even think about looking up who's feet you were scrubbing? And secondly-" Dorian looked away, into a distant mirror. "Aren't you mad at me?" His voice was soft, distant. "Eh. I saw the spilled milk and did some thinking while I was cleaning your quarters and your father probably tore into you or something, more then usual I reckon. So it’s alright, it's all in the past and I'm so-" "don't be sorry for calling me a royal ass." Dorian lowered his voice to a whisper. "I deserve to be called into war." 

Miri inched closer to him and carefully hugged the prince. "Don't worry, we'll find a way out.  You can't go to war! I mean you can't even hurt a fly. A fly!" Dorian laughed quietly into her shoulder. "You're right. I'd be useless." Miri smiled and delicately stroked his back. "And for the record, your shoes were really dirty so how was I supposed to resist?" The prince looked into her eyes then at his shoes. "Can't blame you." A wistful sigh escaped his lips. 

"Miri if I die, take my stash and everything you think of value." He scribbled something on a parchment. "If they call you a thief just show them this." Her jaw tightened. "Shut it, you're not going to walk into a war and die." Dorian wriggled free of her hug and slowly walked away. "Goodbye Miri." 

                                                                                                          ****

"Ah there's my youngest son. The sirenborn." His voice dripped with venom and dispassionate rage. 

Dorian uneasily strode into the crowded Cirrian throne room, filled with dozens of armored knights and generals. He winced from the large golden flame in the center as he passed then kneeled before his father and brother sitting on thrones of crystallized flames. "I answer Cintra’s call." He replied in a clipped voice.  "Are you now?" His brother lochaine didn't even bother disguising his sarcasm. "How big of my little brother, the water pissy. Surely we can keep a couple thousand men at home now that we have my little brother to drench our enemies in a puddle." Mocking laughter echoed through the halls, and in Dorian's ears, he struggled to keep himself from blushing. "Ashes, boy!" He gritted his teeth and dug his nails into his palm. "Do you have no backbone? No spine?" He grunted and slammed his fist on his throne. "You call yourself a bard but most bards I've met are at least clever. They're at least witty. War will serve you well." 

"Don't fret little brother! We'll be going into this crusade together. But…" a malicious grin tugged at lochaine's lips. "What can you do anyway? I mean really. Asides from throwing droplets at our enemies of course." Dorian's cheeks turned crimson at the laughter. He stared into his brother dark brown eyes's then snapped his eyes back to the floor. "I can shape water. I could turn a river into a horde of stampeding horses. Or a pack of wolves. I-" Lochaine and his father burst into laughter. "How terrifying! We-" King Gregori held up his hand. "Enough. Let us go to the balcony and address the army. We have a war to wage."