Heir to the Throne by anonymous

Ywn be born as a prince into the royal family
The youngest, and with 6 older brothers so you'll never see the throne, but still!
Not one year before you were born, your father, the King, completed his conquest of the entire continent after years of blood and strife
The final holdout of Thornwood, with it's packs of wolven irregulars, were finally crushed when one of their own betrayed them in favor of your father, a highly unexpected development given that wolves tend to value loyalty over life itself in most cases
In return, the traitor was rewarded with Dukedom and peace reigned for as long as you could remember, and you grew up without knowing the stress of war in the royal court
But then, out of the blue, news of a rebellion burnished by foreign mercenaries in that meddlesome region erupted, and everyone in the royal family (sans yourself, someone had to stay behind and hold the fort!) rode off to meet the challenge, taking even the majority of the royal guard with their war caravan as you wished them a safe and swift return
With all the excitement having abated, you went to sleep
Only to be woken up hours later in the small hours of the morning by wolven thugs, wearing no uniform, who promptly tied you up
Where the hell were royal guards-
Oh
Right
Finally, with the sun barely having risen over the castle, you were led out by the point of a sword to the throne room
And sitting on the throne, wearing the royal vestments and crown isn't your father, but...
The Duke of Thornwood?!
That's insane! He would never betray-
Oh
Right
Shit!
The Duke meets your spiteful glare with a condescending leer of his own, chuckling as he marvels at the throne room that he had taken over, your family's crest replaced with banners carrying a blood red paw
” MY how you've grown, little Prince! And into a fine young man, the spitting image of your father!"
You splutter out the question of what exactly he’s trying to do here
He answers with a cruel laugh, growling out tauntingly that “I’m just trying to protect the family of my dear friend the King! Haven’t you heard, Prince? Your father was ambushed not long after he left the capital and we haven’t had word of him or his retinue since!”
N-no! This can’t be!
”I’m terribly sorry Prince, but life can be cruel. As for what I’m doing, I’m making sure his beloved son is safe during this turbulent time.”
He calls tying you up in the keep safe?!
”Believe it or not Prince, I do. The throne may well be yours now. That puts an enormous target on your head. Furthermore, I’m aware that you were never raised for the burdens of Kingship, so I’m taking it upon myself to take charge of things as your regent while we work on… fixing that.”
So he just wanted to seize power for himself, you wouldn’t have expected anything less from a filthy traitor-
But as soon as the half-formed word leaves your mouth, his left eye twitches and bellows out “SILENCE…!” in a fierce rage
”ME a traitor?! I gave EVERYTHING I had to your bastard of a father!”
He’s not even really talking to you specifically anymore as his claws dig into the throne’s armrests and he gazes, unfocused, into the eaves, his blood red eyes unfocused but filled with…
… hurt?
”My country, my people, I threw away all of it because I believed in him. Only him, among all men. But even after I damned myself for him, he never even thanked me once…”
But he made him Duke!
At the top of his lungs, he bellows ”I NEVER wanted to become DUKE, Prince! NOR do I particularly care for being a REGENT either!”
H-huh?
”He never looked at me, acknowledged me, spoke with me as we did before…. I know as King he couldn’t but he still threw everything we had between us away, like I was trash. And you have the gall to call ME traitor…”
What is he talking about? Your father did always seem sad and reluctant to speak of him when you brought him up, but…
Breathing heavily with emotion, he finally closes his eyes to calm himself, and after just seconds his smirk and his focus return, his attention solely on you
”But… that’s the past, now. And regardless of what happened between him and I, it’s time to focus on things between us, dear Prince.”
So what, he’s going to keep you locked in the castle for the rest of your life?!
”Well, you’re right that I’m keeping you here, whether you like or not. But not for the rest of your life. Unlike your old man, I’m a wolf of my word. I’m going to PERSONALLY instruct you in the matters of the state, and with any luck, you’ll become an even more impressive King than your dear old man ever was.”
As if a perfidious coward like him could teach you anything worthwhile!
But on hearing he that, he leans back and laughs, retorting “Oh you’ll find I’m quite good at what I do, little Prince.”
He leans forward again, placing his chin on his paw, and gazes at you with an odd expression, condescending as before but also… hungry?
”You may even find there are certain… things… outside of statecraft I can teach you, too. If you’re anything like your father, I have a feeling you’ll agree…”
W-what does THAT mean?!
”Another time, Prince. We will begin promptly, first thing tomorrow. Until then, I advise you rest well, and I look forward to becoming very closely acquainted with you!”
You’re escorted out at blade’s edge once more as you listen to the Duke laugh behind you
There seems to be… a LOT to unpack in what he said, but one thing’s certain:
Somehow, you’re going to turn the tables on him! And get your throne back! On YOUR terms, not his!
…
Actually, hang on
You didn’t register it until now, but…
Was he… completely naked under the royal robe?
You are awakened the next morning from your uneasy slumber by none other than the Duke himself, wearing more clothes this time and rapping his cane loudly on your nightstand, exclaiming “Rise, Prince, and face the new day!”, clearly enjoying your startled yelp
Quickly you settle into your new, enforced routine that the wolf has organized for you
Every morning two of his men escort you to the royal library where he leaves you for the majority of the day with an enormous pile of books on history, politics, arithmetic, tax theory and even the odd tome on religion, species and biology
Every evening he returns to grill you on the subjects he’s chosen that day, pacing over and over again in front of you and harshly admonishing you if you miss even the slightest detail or are just a decimal off in your calculations
And it’s not just book learning, either
At the end of the week he drags you out to the courtyard, throwing you your rapier and drawing his, insisting “to rule, one must be a master of both political AND martial ability!”
Buoyed with confidence by the fact that you’re the best fencer in the family, you rush forth…
… only to be thoroughly trounced. Maybe he’s just too familiar with your family’s fighting style, but it’s like he can read your mind, and even the slightest mistake results in you being disarmed or jabbed in the vitals by the wolf, who is all the while laughing like it’s the most fun he’s had in a long time
He even sits in on your dinner, criticizing your lack of manners and exclaiming “Gods, Prince, your people INVENTED the fork, for what reason are you so terrified to use one?!”
To which you promptly respond by tearing a drumstick off of the bird and unceremoniously stuffing it into your mouth, giving him an impish defiant look
Instead of making him angry, though, he just glares at you for a bit and then fails to hide a grin, chuckling under his breath
That evening, to your fury, you learn that the Duke has taken residence in your father’s old chambers
When you angrily confront him on this, however, he barely acknowledges the question and sarcastically muses “those chambers are for the acting head of state, not specifically your father, Prince. Or are you suggesting that I sleep in your bed instead?”
N-no you aren’t!
”Oh? What a pity, I might even have agreed, if only you had asked!”
Before you have time to splutter out a flustered reply, he goes to pass you, stopping by your left ear and whispering “As it happens, I’ll have you know it’s not my first time sleeping in your father’s room, or even on that bed, for that matter…”, and trots off before you can accuse him of lying
Later that evening he drags you to the ballroom for another ‘special lesson’
To your surprise, it’s just the two of you, and he’s brought a Victrola with him
”What’s the look for, Prince? You haven’t forgotten that leading the dance is the King’s duty too, have you?”
Well no, but you can’t dance-
And before you can react, the Victrola is playing and he’s grabbed both of your hands with his paws
His grip is surprisingly tender as he steps and twirls with the tune, roping you along as you stumble and misplace your feet, the world becoming a blur of the blue tiles and his jet-black pelt
You can tell It’s definitely not his first time performing this particular dance, and between his familiarity and the distant, unfocused look and smile he has, he almost seems lost in reminiscence
Come to think of it, you’re pretty sure you recognize this song…
It’s been a long time since you’ve heard it, but it’s the waltz of fidelity, to be performed between the King and his consort
When and how did HE learn it?
But before you can continue that path of thought, the music swells
Taking you into his arms, the Duke pivots around you in feverish pitch to match the crescendo
As the climax nears, you somehow match his switchback and then try to remember what comes after
Wait, come to think of it, at the very end of the dance, isn’t there supposed to be a k-
And suddenly, compelled by the music and too lost in the act to think, the Duke sweeps you off your feet and holds onto your back, looming over you as he stares into your eyes with his red irises glazed and unfocused
It’s only as you begin to feel his warm breath on your cheeks that you realize he’s millimeters and milliseconds away from kissing you
But then a jolt of realization ripples through his body and his eyes suddenly regain their clarity, going wide with fear, and he lets go of you (causing you to fall to the floor)
Breathing heavily whether from exertion or something else, he refuses to meet your gaze
He’s clearly deeply uncomfortable at what just transpired, with his hackles raised and the flesh of his ears as blood red as his eyes
”I… I wasn’t… d-don’t think I…”
Sensing he’s lost all semblance of composure, he shakily adjusts his cravat, takes a deep breath, and loudly slams on the Victrola to stop it, all the while continuing to avoid your gaze
”Your footwork is a mess. We’re done for tonight. You are dismissed.”
Following that, he storms away, leaving you alone and utterly bewildered on the floor of the dance hall
However, it dawns on you that for the first time since this whole mess began, you’re alone
And so you decide to use this opportunity to tail him and try to get to the bottom of this
It seems he truly wants to be alone, as he’s dismissed the usual two guard contingency directly outside his room, allowing you quietly squat down at the keyhole and peer in
The Duke is sitting on an ottoman facing away from the door, directly in front of an enormous portrait of the King
He’s torn off his suit and ripped his cravat off, apparently then throwing them halfway across the room, sitting face down with his head in his paws and trembling
Is he… crying?
If he is, it’s too quiet to hear, but after a few minutes of watching him in this sad, sorry state, he raises his head up and begins to quietly address the portrait in a tremulous voice
”Damn you… after all this time, why do you still have this power over me?”
He gently raises his left paw to his eye, indicating that he probably was crying just now
”He looks, sounds, damn it all, he even SMELLS just like you did when we were together. I can’t control myself whenever I’m around him…! Gods, why do I have to feel this again? Why did you leave me?! Why did you DO this to me?!”
And then, nothing but pained sobbing as he collapses in a soot colored heap, all of his usual composure crumpled under the weight of his sorrow
You begin putting the pieces together
The reason he betrayed his country despite the wolves’ culture of undying loyalty…
His uncharacteristically fierce emotions towards you, your father, and his insistence he wasn’t one who was double-crossed…
His inexplicably intimate, forward behavior towards you, the one individual he specifically notes as being the spitting image of him…
Your dad and the Duke were a couple at one point, weren’t they?
And your father cut it off
And he’s so completely not over it that now he’s holding a candle for you, too
This is the weirdest, most conflicted, least appropriate boner you’ve ever, EVER had