When He Was Something More

Music: King of the Earth by John Ondrasnik

Jacob is no prince, much less a king.

Well, true, he can be alpha if he wants to, which is—he supposed—some sort of kingship, and he is also Billy Black's son, the—sort of—tribal leader but status and bloodlines never mattered for Jacob.

But it does to others.

Sam, for example, makes a note to always ask for his opinion in pack matters, deferring to him on tribal ones. It embarrasses Jacob greatly when he gets singled out like that

The werewolf thing aside, he figures he is nothing special.

He has talent for numbers, a natural ability to handle engines and machines but then again, a lot of people are able to do that.

People like him and he likes to be friendly and helpful but he is no tribal leader, no alpha wolf. So he's second in command, but that is still a long way up to alpha, although Sam never forgets to remind him that he is always willing to step down, somehow—strangely—Sam thinks he is ready for alpha...hood.

He isn't.

As far as Jacob is concern, there is no vacancy in the alpha spot.

Again, bloodlines don't mean squat to him, what does matter is integrity, strength of heart, honor, compassion, loyalty and a willingness to sacrifice one self and make hard choices.

Sam—although, Leah would have disagreed—has all that and more.

It just isn't him and he prefers it that way.

But, there was a time, a time where he felt like something...more.

A time where he felt he could take out all of the vampires in Volterra single-handedly, a time where he thought he could do anything he put his mind to.

A time where he—perhaps foolishly—thought that he could bring the dead back to life...and do some miracle healing while he was at it.

A time where he was the only one that could make her smile.

Bella—Bells—Swan

She made him feel like he could conquer the world and beyond, and for a space of time, he did.

But then reality—as it always does—kicked in and reminded him that he was no prince, and certainly no king.

If he had to choose an occupation somewhere along that line, he would probably be...a soldier, one who can mingle with royalty and blue bloods, rub shoulders in the battlefield; their blood spilling to the same ground as swords clash and battle screams fill his ears but after the war is over, they will come home to their princesses and queens while the soldiers are left in the battlefields to tend their own wounds.

And her books talks of knights, of kings, of princes...not soldiers. And that is all that he ever—willingly—hoped to be.

But—when the moon is full and tints the tips of trees with silver—he remembers, that once upon a time, he was…more.