"This is ridiculous! I refuse! I refuse! I refuse! By order of the king, I will have you beheaded! You can't do this to me! I'm the prince! The beloved and handsome prince! You. Can't. Do. This. To. ME! Son of a... GRAAAH!" His shout became muffled and distorted, but he continued to yell. The rag was disgusting! Barbarians! Putting such a thing in his mouth! Shifty eyed, pasty, ugly, jealous barbarians! Probably from the neighboring kingdom, deciding to start a war! Well he wouldn't go down without a fight! When he got to his sword or any sword, they would be done for!
"Dami...? What are we going to do? He doesn't seem to be very happy..." a small, obviously female voice entered his ears. He twisted his head towards the sound, in front of him, to his right. Of course, he was blindfolded and being carried over someone's shoulder, but it would still be useful to try and get a glimpse of his kidnappers!
How far was he from the castle? He tried to listen for castle like sounds but only heard the footsteps of his kidnappers on the ground, the buzzing of bugs, and the rustling of leaves...He struggling and squirmed, trying to get out of his captor's hold, but it stayed strong. Damn kidnappers!
The last thing he remembered was pretty girl walking up to him in the halls of the castle. She had been dressed in a maid's uniform, though he had never seen her before. Dark eyes had stared at him in shimmering awe and told him that the king had asked her to bring him a club of wine, to help him sleep.
Of course, he had begun to flirt with the beautiful blonde, taking a gulp of the sweet tasting wine. He remembered feeling dizzy...Then falling to the ground...The last thing he remembered was looking into wide dark eyes and thinking that at least this beautiful maid would call for help.
It seemed he may have been tricked. They had dared to use his way with women against him! The scoundrels! And to think that pretty little blonde was an evil kidnapper...Oh the horror!
He felt himself get shifted like a sack of potatoes and tried to, once again, escape. It was somewhat hard, as his hands were tied together, as well as his feet. If the person carrying him did somehow let him go, he would most likely land on his beautiful, beautiful face...And that would really be the true crime.
"We don't want him to be happy, Vi. We're, ya know, kidnapping him. If he were happy, I'd be concerned." the man, only known as 'Dami', carrying him spoke to who he could suppose was the beautiful blonde that had dared to trick him. He guessed he could forgive her...It was probably this wise a** guy who had created the whole plot anyway!
"And you know what we're going to do, Vi."
The silence that followed that line hurt his ears. What did they mean? Were they going to...Kill him? But they couldn't kill him! He was a prince! They could hold him for ransom or sell him into the black market! But not kill him! He was too pretty to die! Too young! Too important! He tried to convey this to them, but the gag made it difficult.
"I think he's trying to say something, Dami! Maybe we should make camp here! I don't think he can take travel much longer, can you, Prince?" the girl asked him, coming closer until he assumed she was walking right in front of his face. He quickly shook his head. Yes! Camp! Set him down so he could steal a blade and let the man taste steel and blood before saving the poor girl and making her a lucky princess. For a night, anyway.
He heard a frustrated sigh before all motion stopped, making him realize he had gotten used to it. When it stopped, he felt dizzy and sick. It wouldn't be very charming to throw up, he reminded himself, but the queasiness was still there. A moment later he was thrown rudely and harshly onto the ground like a sack once again. He displayed his outrage with a few choice words that were successfully muffled by the rag. That had hurt! Damn barbarian...
"Dami? Can I take off his blind fold? I don't think him seeing us will hurt to badly since..." her voice trailed off and the silence returned. He felt his heart beat double in speed and realized that these people might really kill him...What a fate. But no! His father's knights would find him! Of course they would. They would save him and he would go home and never accept wine from pretty girls ever again. The thought calmed him considerably and then realized the other male must have nodded because his sky blue eyes were uncovered.
He looked around quickly, searching for any sign of familiarity. To no avail, though. There was no landmark he recognized, no sight of the castle, no people, or homes. Just trees, rocks, dirt, and a beaten path winding between the stupid trees and stupid rocks made out of stupid dirt.
He turned his attention to his kidnappers. It was indeed the girl who had offered him wine, though she wasn't in a maid's outfit anymore. He considered this a horrible crime as well and blamed it entirely on the man.
She was instead dressed in light purple tunic dress, the brown belt around her waist holding a small brown bag, a small sheath, and two smaller white bags. He eyed the sheath, but it was just a small dagger. If worse came to worse, he would go for it, but it wouldn't do him much good at the moment, even if he could grab it with his tied hands.
Her beautiful blonde hair was in a high ponytail and it still brushed between her shoulder blades. Those big dark eyes peered down at him, and a shy smile was on pink lips. She looked embarrassed and very sorry.
Hm...Maybe he could convince him to let her go? But even as she looked down at him in pity, her eyes darted to the man -no, boy, he couldn't be a day over nineteen, just a year older then himself- who was watching them carefully. Her fear or alliance or whatever it was to the boy was stronger then whatever sympathy she had for him. For now, anyway.
He eyed the boy, the cause of all his troubles. He was...Somewhat handsome. Not as handsome as himself, but not a horrible mess. He had messy dark hair that curled slightly at the ends. His skin was tanned and he was obviously very strong, though he didn't have bulgy muscles. A white scar nearly covered his right cheek. He wore a ragged black tunic shirt, gray leggings underneath. A sheath sat at his hip. A sword.
He somehow tore his blue eyes away from the weapon, not wanting to make it so obvious that he planned to try and steal it. The boy had his arms crossed over his chest and dark eyes were glaring at him. Wait. He had seen those dark eyes. He looked at the boy, then the girl, then the boy, then the girl. They were the same eyes! But...
"Violet. Get away from him. He's a dirty pervert and I don't need him trying to touch my little sister." the boy warned the girl in a gruff, displeased voice. Little sister?! Wait. DIRTY PERVERT! He was a prince! Not a pervert! He tried to voice his outrage, glaring daggers at the boy, who just rolled those dark eyes and turned to a pile of sticks that he had gathered at some point, probably when he had been blind folded.
The girl, Violet, gave him another sorry look and skipped over to her...Brother's side. How could they be siblings? It was like night and day, dark and light, the moon and the sun! Except for the eyes, there was nothing similar between the two.
It was a crime against nature. When he got back to his kingdom, he would have the brother executed, save the girl, console her, take her to his bedroom to 'console' her more, and then go on with his life, knowing he had done the world a good deed by killing off the horrible boy.
He watched said horrible boy kneel down, mumble something, toss two pinches of a strange white powder, and then blow gently on the sticks. What did he think was doing? Some kind of crazy barbarian ritual? But...The sticks...He watched in horror as the sticks caught on fire, making a small, yet steady blaze.
The boy was a mage?! He couldn't be a mage! The mage books had been destroyed! No one could be taught to be a mage unless given permission by the king and his father hadn't given anyone that permission in at least twenty years! Yet another crime this boy had committed! But how had he learned...? This was insane...He had to be dreaming. He would wake up in his nice, soft, warm bed and go on with his perfect life. And this whole little 'adventure' would just be forgotten.
"Sorry, Prince...But I think you need some sleep. It is late." Violet said softly to him, suddenly in front of him. In her palm was a small pile of white dust. Just like the boy had used on the sticks. She blew on it gently, whispering something he didn't understand, and then gave him another apologetic look. What was she going to do?
He found out a moment later as she threw the dust at his face.
What?! Why had she done that? He shook his head, trying to get the dust off of him, it scratching at his face. He didn't hear the finally murmur of apology from Violet...He felt himself getting sleepier and he stared at the brother and sister kidnappers as they moved by the fire, murmuring themselves, before falling asleep.
------
"Prince? Would you like some water?" Sweet little Violet asked the idiotic prince. Why the hell did she think she had to be so nice to such a pompous fool? If the pay wasn't so good, Damien knew he wouldn't have taken the job. Kidnapping the prince? Not only a deadly task, but also, it turned out, one of the most annoying tasks he had ever had to do.
He guessed that sometimes the prince wasn't...All that bad. He kept Violet company and sometimes the girl did need someone besides her brother to talk to. The prince also seemed to have a certain sense of chivalry. Not once had Violet walked in a mud puddle or been wet from a rain storm in the three weeks the prince had been walking with them.
Also, the prince was completely inept in all sorts of basic survival skills, almost walking right off a cliff before he had dragged the idiot back by his shirt. The idiot couldn't start a fire, couldn't fight without a sword, couldn't read any parts of nature to find his way out of the woods, even if he was somehow given a map!
The prince was also completely easy to read, so easy in fact that the day after he and Violet had kidnapped the moron, he had taken off the ropes and gag and just let the prince walk with them, like a well trained farm animal. So there was little to no chance of the moron actually escaping. It was almost too easy keeping him as their 'victim'. So really, kidnapping the prince really wasn't all that bad except...
"Thank you, Princess." The prince replied, apparently receiving his water from Violet. That! That was what annoyed him! Princess? His sister was not some dolled up, pampered, little, spoiled brat unable to even survive without someone holding her hand! She was a trained and successful mage! A skilled thief and trickster! And she still managed to be a good and wonderful person! He like to see any pampered rich girls try to do half the things he knew Violet could do!
And that moronic prince thought he was complimenting her! As if that prince could master any of the number of things Violet had had to have learned and he couldn't do any of it because he was a prince! Being royalty was nothing more then an accident of being born by rich people! Not an actual accomplishment!
"Her name is Violet, perv. She's not some stupid princess." he said loudly, annoyed and frustrated with the blond prince's narrow view. He didn't bother turning around to face the two walking behind him. He knew if he saw those ridiculous blue eyes he would have to punch the merchandise. And their employer had asked for undamaged goods.
"I am not a pervert! I am a gentlemen! The least you could do is call me my name!" the prince squawked like a bird with its feathers ruffled. Damien couldn't help smirking.
Another thing that made kidnapping the prince a more enjoyable experience was that it was so easy to insult the idiot. It had been too long since he had the pleasure of getting into verbal spats for such a extended period. He would never say anything insulting to little Vi, but the pompous prince? Well, he was just asking for it.
"I dunno about that...I think I know how to spell your name. It's A S S W I P E, right?" he asked, his tone innocent. Violet said his name, warning him, asking him with a simple tone to please stop. She didn't like unneeded violence or fighting. She didn't really understand just how much fun it was to get into these stupid little fights.
He was, however, surprised when he felt a hand land on his shoulder and stop him in his tracks, forcing him to turn around. Raising an eyebrow, he stared into glaring blue eyes. The prince's face was flushed an angry red and he seemed upset. How fun.
"You can't use language like that in front of a lady! And you can't treat a prince like that! You're nothing but a barbarian, you are lower then me! You. Treat. Me. With. Respect!" the prince hissed at him, the hand still on his shoulder squeezing hard.
Damien sneered and shoved the hand off his shoulder. This wasn't a game anymore. He stepped closer, ignoring Violet's plea for them to please stop fighting. He took steps until him and the prince were nose to nose. He dared the prince to back away, but those stupid blue eyes met his own and he kept his place, accepting the challenge.
"One. She's my sister and I'll talk however the hell I want to around her. She's not some spoiled little princess and she's seen things that you've never even imagined could happen to someone. Two. Listen good and listen now. I run this s**t here and there's nothing that you can say or do to change that. Got that? I am not a ******** barbarian and just because I'm not some stuck up prince doesn't make me lower then you." he growled out. The prince was just glaring back, seeming to be trying to stare him down. Fat chance that would happen.
"And three." he paused for a second before stabbing a finger into the pompous idiot's chest. He continued this, punctuating each word with a jab, "I. Kidnapped. You. That means your life is in my hands and when I feel like killing you, I can."
"Come on, Dami. Just let it go!" Violet begged quietly, pulling at his arm, but he shrugged her off and continued on as if she hadn't spoken. The prince looked furious now, and yet that small light of fear was in those blue eyes, too. Seemed like the moron was finally getting the message.
"You mean nothing to me and don't think that just because I've been allowing you to walk around means that I won't tie you up and throw you over my shoulder again. Learn your place. You're not in your precious kingdom anymore and you're never going back, either." he finished with one last stab at the blond's chest.
The prince just stared at him. The look was cold. Damien felt the look sink into him, remembering for a moment that he had taken this boy from his family, home, and life...To sell him to someone who wanted him dead. The look actually physically hurt...s**t. He wasn't the bad guy here. He had a job to do and means to make...This was the way he and Violet had to survive...It wasn't his fault.
Turning his back to the prince, he continued to walk, trying to push away the memory of that piercing look. He had just told the truth. It wasn't his fault the pompous prince couldn't take it.
He heard Violet whispering to the other boy, comforting him, trying to reassure him. What could she say, though? He had taught his sister not to lie when she didn't absolutely have to. Would she promise to make the prince's final moments painless? To let him have some last words? What could you say to the person you were paid to deliver to their murderer? Well, you could say what he had just said...
Damien dared to glance over his shoulder at the two. Blue eyes caught his and stared. The look belonged to someone that knew they were looking at someone who had completely betrayed them. Damien huffed and turned back. He owed that prince nothing! You couldn't betray someone that you didn't even know...
Right?
------
"So, I think we need supplies." He blinked as Damien's voice rose over the crackling of the fire. Supplies? Supplies had to mean a town! A town meant he would have a chance of escaping!
"Oh that sounds great, Dami!" Violet commented happily, sitting between him and Damien. It had already been decided that he and Damien could not sit or walk next to each other ever.
Just yesterday, he had tried to walk in front, since Damien was always walking up like he was the leader or something. Princes do not walk behind others, after all.
The ugly jerk had dared to speed up and...Well, it had turned into a race...And then a fight...And that mean barbarian had punched him! His poor, handsome cheek was bruised and tender, even after Violet's gentle medical touch.
It had been worth it to hear sweet Violet scold Damien, though. The reason hadn't been so heart warming, however...It seemed the siblings had been told to not damage him. Violet had seemed very upset and confused that her brother would actually hit him. He wasn't surprised at all. The b*****d was completely uncivilized and violent. It was a wonder he hadn't been more battered.
"Of course, our guest will have to be tied to a tree outside of the village." Damien commented conversationally, poking at the fire with a dry twig. He felt his eye twitch at the idea of being tied to a tree like some animal waiting for its owners to return.
"I refuse! I'll scream and yell until someone comes if I'm left tied to some tree like an animal!" he argued, glaring at the seemingly unconcerned barbarian. Violet patted at his arm, making soft cooing noises for a moment before also turning to look at her brother.
"Can't we just disguise him, Dami? I'm sure if we make him promise, he won't try anything! Right, Prince?" she asked, those large dark eyes turning their attention to him, begging him silently to agree. He melted under the gaze and could only nod. She was too sweet to refuse...How could she ever be related to that b*****d would forever be a mystery.
"Keh. His promises mean nothing, Vi, and you know it. He'll run off the minute we see someone." Damien said, snapping the twig and throwing it into the flames. He huffed at such an accusation. As if he would ever break a promise! Princes do not break promises!
Though...He probably would try to escape...Still! That jerk had no right to assume such a thing about him! He opened his mouth to say such a thing, but was surprised when a bread roll was instead shoved into the space. Choking, he was distracted from what he was going to say and instead focused on the food suddenly clogging his air way.
"We could put a mute charm on him, Dami and you know it! And you could watch him, if you think I won't do a good enough job! We need supplies and we can't just leave him tied to a tree...He's a nice boy. He really is!"
If he hadn't been so busy chewing rapidly at the bread that Violet had crammed into his mouth, he would have beamed and stuck his tongue out at Damien. Ha! See! He was a good guy! Well, of course he was. He was a prince, after all. But still. It was nice to see Violet thought so well of him.
"A mute charm?" The barbarian said thoughtfully, rubbing at the scar on his cheek. He had noticed the jerk had a habit of doing it when he was thinking. It was very annoying after awhile. And by awhile, he meant after five weeks of seeing him do it, it was getting really, really, insanely annoying. Sometimes the dark haired boy would spend the whole day walking, insulting him, and rubbing at that damn scar.
"Why haven't we been using that the whole time?" Damien asked, looking up at the night sky, rubbing at that scar, as if contemplating why the sky had stars in it at night.
"What do you mean why haven't you been muting me this whole time?! I'm a great conversationalist when I'm not talking with a manic like you!" he accused, pointing a finger across Violet at the b*****d. He had finally gotten the bread down. Those rolls could be really hard to chew...
"Oh yeah, I'm sure you're a great conversationalist when you get to talk about shoes or hair or what color goes best with those blue eyes of your's, right? But when it comes to serious, real world talk...A mute charm sounds really good, right?" Damien dared to ask, smirking at him from the other side of Violet.
"Hey! Those are serious subjects! I mean-Damn it! Oh! Sorry, Princess-I can talk about anything!" he finally spat out. Damien just laughed at him, a sound that was so warm and...
Well, the fights had become so normal for them. They didn't even mean anything any more...It was the only way he and Damien ever talked. And sometimes -when he got a good insult in- it was even...Dare he think it?...Fun.
Maybe it was because of that idea that made Damien's laugh sound less mocking and cruel and more good-natured, a joke shared between them...That didn't make him hate his captor any less...And that didn't make him his next comment any less offensive.
"Anything that has to do with getting other 'lesser' people to do all the hard work for you, right? Us barbarians are only born to serve you, right, Your Highness?" the dark haired boy sneered around the title. He flushed in anger at the insult and stood up.
"That's not true! I do plenty for myself and I respect every servant! It's not my fault I'm too busy being prepared to rule a kingdom to bother with the more menial chores!" he shouted and watched with almost a sense of anticipation as Damien rose from the dirt and faced him.
He had never fought with someone so much. No one had ever pissed him off so much. He was a prince, no one ever spoke ill of him, and yet this boy seemed to think so damn low of him. It was frustrating. Different. Not always in a good way...
Sometimes Damien's words were cutting, harsh, cruel, and full of malice. Sometimes they truly hurt each other with words alone. He knew he hurt the other boy back and it made him feel sick sometimes and victorious others. He hated this dark haired, scarred barbarian. He loved fighting with him, feeling that adrenaline pumping through him like nothing else. It was the most confusing thing he had ever dealt with.
Oh, and one could never forget that this boy and his sister were also delivering him to his death, getting closer with every passing day.
"Oh yes! Being waited on hand and foot every damn day of your life and never having to left a finger must be so hard! Poor baby! Have you even worked? Ever wondered how the hell you were going to get your next meal? No! Everything was handed to you from birth! You're selfish and spoiled and you don't even know it!" Damien shouted back at him, taking that step forward that he always took. He met that step, readying his next shout.
Of course, that was the moment Violet decided she had had enough.
The small girl got between them and shoved them both in the guts, forcing them to stumble backwards. He almost fell on his perfect butt. The girl was a lot stronger then she looked...
"No more fighting. Prince, tomorrow you will have a mute charm. Dami, tomorrow you will watch the Prince and get supplies. I'll make sure we have some extra money. Sound good? Yes? Wonderful! Good night, you guys~" the girl said pleasantly and he knew the fight was over before it really even got started. He glared at Damien, who glared back.
Tomorrow would certainly be fun...
------
"We'll meet back here at sundown, okay? Have fun and play nice." Violet said, kissing him on the cheek and smiling at the idiotic prince before she wandered off.
She would be busy all day distracting people and pickpocketing...They usually were a two person operation. First, she would get a whole crowd of people by playing the damsel in distress, claiming a man had attacked her or that she had lost her pet. No one with a heart ever kept walking once they saw her begging for help. Of course, while they were distracting he would take everything of value off of their person. She would suddenly find her pet or feel better and run away. They would meet up and then go buy supplies.
But no. Not today. Today he was stuck with their guest of honor. He glared at the boy next to him who was all smiles and daises, even though he couldn't speak. They had also changed his appearance, in case someone recognized the prince of the land. Doubtful, but still a possibility.
He had wanted to make the prince as ugly as a troll. But the blond had seemed to catch onto his plan and begged for Violet to change him instead. So now he had longer, brown hair, green eyes, freckles, and tanned skin. He was also about three inches shorter and wore a blue tunic with gray leggings.
Damien would never, not under threat of death, admit that he missed the blond hair and stupid blue eyes...It was just strange seeing the prince act exactly like a prince and yet look nothing like the idiot.
But that was also a problem. Even though the idiot looked exactly like any other boy in the small, market based village him and Violet had chosen, he still had that stupid attitude of one of royalty.
Damien was so glad that the moron couldn't speak. He didn't want to imagine what kind of trouble he could get them into by saying the exact wrong thing to the exact wrong person. He knew from personal experience that the idiot prince had a wonderful ability of opening his big, stupid mouth and spouting out whatever he was thinking and never understanding the consequences.
"Come on already." he said with a frustrated sigh, walking towards the busy and bustling market. The sun had risen a few hours ago, so most of the town's people and passing travelers like themselves were already working and buying and selling and living.
Damien watched them, filled with that odd sensation of pity, pride, and hatred. He pitied these people who, like him, had to work for everything they got. He was proud of these people for working so hard even as they knew they would die long before they found true happiness. He hated these people for being so weak that they couldn't see how they were being oppressed. He hated these people because he knew if he or Violet revealed their abilities, they would be killed on sight.
"Pound of salt! Only two groats!"
"Fine rugs for sale! Will never go bare!"
"Beautiful jewelry! Woo your lady with these beautiful necklaces!"
Damien grinned to himself, listening with only half an ear to all the shouting and bargaining and sales going on around him. He had to say he enjoyed markets. All the smells, the sounds, the people, the money! No, there was nothing wrong with markets.
"Thief! Thief! I'll kill ya, ya damned, dirty thief!"
Huh? A thief caught? Not Violet...She would never get caught...A beginner thief? A child desperate for food, maybe? Wait...Where was the-
Damien looked around frantically, realizing he had lost the idiotic prince! Why had that moron walked away from him? He looked for blond hair, before stopping, cursing himself. Finally, he saw a familiar head of brown hair, dangling about a foot off the ground, held there by his wrist by a towering man with a very angry expression. Oh no...No. No. No. The prince couldn't be that stupid...
Right?
"Well, what do ya say, thief? Stealing my precious silver necklaces! I'll cut your throat!" the man growled to his captive, who seemed to be frantically shaking his head. Damien noticed a glimmer of silver held tightly in the supposed thief's hand.
Wrong, then. The prince was that stupid.
He moved closer, watching the scene. Would it really be so wrong to let the prince die? He was being very, very stupid and he hadn't stayed close. And who grabbed jewelry? It wasn't food, wasn't useful. Then again, Damien was sure he had heard once that idiots were attracted to shiny things. Maybe that was why royalty wore so much metal.
Moving closer, he knew the moment the disguised prince saw him.The idiot started to open and close his mouth rapidly, those big green eyes begging him to save him. Oh so now the prince needed a barbarian like him, huh?
He just raised an eyebrow, asking what he would get for saving the fool. The prince looked outraged and struggled even more in the large man's grip, just making the guy angrier until he was pulling a knife from his cart. The prince stared at the weapon, before turning back to him, those lips forming the unmistakable word of 'Anything'.
Now that was a deal Damien could make.
"Ah! My good fellow! Thank you so so so very much for catching my servant!" he stepped into the middle of the crowd that had quickly formed to witness the death of a thief. These people didn't get much entertainment, so executions were very popular.
The people gathered whispered to each other at his appearance. He just smirked and brushed his dark hair from his eyes and scar. It was a move he had seen the prince himself do many times when he was trying to impress Violet.
The large jewelry cart owner just glared beady eyes at him, putting the prince on the ground, though he kept the idiot's wrist locked in a death grip. The prince himself seemed to have forgotten he was still very close to death and just looked completely insulted at being called a servant. Moron.
"Your servant, eh? Well, your servant here was caught stealing from my cart! I have the right to kill him!" The man emphasized his point by shaking the prince in front of the somewhat large knife. Damien sighed softly, looking to the side even as he strolled to the prince's side. He gave him a disdainful glance and the prince glared back. He then turned his full attention on the strong, angry man with the knife.
"I am truly sorry he did such a thing, my good fellow. The problem is my dear wife felt sorry for this...Simpleton and begged me to allow him to serve for us. You see, he's not very bright at all. I don't know who let him go to the market in the first place." he explained wearily, before smacking the prince on the head. He had to admit, it felt very good to do so. The idiot's free hand went straight to the injury, bowing his head away from any future blows.
"I promise that it will never happen again and you will have your jewelry back, along with a sweet singing angel for your troubles." he said, smiling at the man, flashing up his hand where the shiny angel coin glittered between his finger tips.
He watched the man stare at it, both of them knowing the cheap and ill made necklace was barely worth half the coin. Making sure to wait until the man had gotten a good look at it, he flipped it into his palm, and turned away from the large man.
"But, if you still do want to kill him, I guess I would understand. You would really be doing me a favor. And I could keep this pretty angel all to myself to buy something to appease my wife." he commented lightly, with a shrug, moving to walk away. He saw out of the corner of his eye, the prince desperately reach for him.
If the fool hadn't been doing exactly what he needed him to do, he would have rolled his eyes at what little trust the idiot had in him. Sure, he wouldn't mind seeing him get sliced up...But...He really, really enjoyed punching the prince. And he loved fighting with him. And he loved hating him.
And maybe...Well, hell he could admit it when he started actually...Liking someone. It hadn't happened in a long time, but he knew he didn't truly despise the prince all of the time. He didn't want to see the prince get killed even if it was because of his own stupidity.
And besides, their original boss would have his head so quickly that he wouldn't even have time to think of offering an angel to his own murderer.
He had almost reached the crowd of people when a thick hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. Blinking, he received an armful of disguised prince and a angel coin tugged out of his hand.
"Take ya thieving servant and don't let me be seeing him near my cart again. Or I'll kill both of ya." the man grumbled, placing his prized necklace almost lovingly back on his cart, pocketing the coin. He nodded quickly, dragging the prince away into the crowd.
"Pleasure doing business with you!" he called out, walking and dragging the prince behind him until he got to a deserted area far enough away. There, he shoved the prince against the wall, glaring at him, his tunic collar clutched in his fist.
"What the hell do you think you are doing back there? You cost me money that we could have used for supplies! You are supposed to stay close to me! You could have gotten your stupid throat opened back there! Are you really that stupid?" he hissed between grinding teeth.
The prince just stared at him, blinking, before shaking his head. Damien felt his eye twitch and just sighed, releasing the moron. It was no fun when the prince couldn't yell back at him.
"Just...Don't do it again, okay?" He said, turning to go back to the market. He suddenly imagined the prince really getting his stupid throat cut and felt sick. Damn it! He was not getting attached to the merchandise! He was selling this stupid prince next week when they arrived in the town of the guy who had ordered the death of this fool and that was that!
A hand landed gently on his elbow. He turned his head back at the prince who was smiling at him, like he knew something...Damien watched as the mute prince pointed at himself, then drew a big circle in the air, before poking him in the back.
'I owe you.'
Damien was horrified to feel something in his chest actually clench. No...No...He really was the bad guy here. This stupid, trusting, common sense lacking prince...He was smiling at his kidnapper, his indirect murderer...Damien hoped he wouldn't throw up as his stomach churned. He shook his head and sped up, back towards the bustling crowd of the market.
This...This wasn't happening.
The prince ran after him, catching him by the arm, and holding onto his sleeve like a child, seeming to take the 'stay close' part seriously. Damien didn't shake him off and just let him stay there as he bought supplies, explaining to anyone who looked at them funny that the prince was dim and needed his help to get around. The idiot pinched him every time and he still didn't shake him off. Instead, by the end of the day when they met back up with Violet, he found himself wearing an exasperated smile, even as his gut twisted and knotted with bad feelings.
This...This was happening.
------
Silence.
Thick and utter silence.
Violet looked at both of the boys. The Prince was walking behind her, staring at his feet as took their steps. Dami was ahead of her, back straight, fingers rubbing constantly at his scar as if it still hurt him. He had gotten that scar when he was eight and their neighbor at the time had thrown a hot coal at his face, hitting and burning him on the cheek. That neighbor had seen Dami turn a small bit of powder into a small drop of water. She knew he rubbed at it to remind himself that they were always in danger.
And now he was really in danger.
Violet knew that her brother had gotten attached to the Prince. How, she didn't know. But he had. After they had left that town, her brother and the Prince had been all smiles and insults. The harsh words that passed between them were warm, light, and gave them both a...Glow. Twice, the Prince had gotten punched. Once Dami had been shoved to the ground. All the while laughter had been entwined with crude words and cruel accusations.
Just yesterday, she had tried to ask him what he thought he was doing. They both knew what was going to happen today. He had just looked at her, matching dark eyes staring at her with a look she had only seen once. It had been the look their mother had given them when she had told them she had to leave for just a little while and that Dami would have to take good care of her. That mixture of fear, hopelessness, and love. He had said,
'I don't know, Vi.'
And kept walking.
Now there was perfect silence. The information hung over the boys' heads, threatening to smash them like a rock when they finally reached their destination. She could see it. She knew Dami had to have seen it before this...Why had he done this to himself? Violet bit her bottom lip, nibbling it as they walked. At sunset, they would tie up the Prince and leave him in the middle of the surrounding forest, where their boss would pick him up. They would never see him again.
Could Dami handle it?
'He'll have to.' she thought, staring holes into her brother's back as they walked towards the end of this chapter of their lives. Or, for the Prince, the final chapter of his life.
Hours later they found themselves in the exact middle of the forest, a very small clearing the place for the Prince's drop off.
"Would you like your hands tied in front or behind, Prince?" she asked him, the rope held her hands, smiling a sweet, polite. and fake smile. All of her smiles seemed to be fake these days...It helped her, so she didn't complain, but sometimes she wished she looked like her brother so she didn't have to pull the ridiculous charade of being 'sweet' and 'innocent'. She wanted to just kill someone instead of having to trick them and then let Dami dispose of them. Sometimes she became worried that she played her part of 'Princess' so well that not even Dami knew the real her...
But it wasn't something to worry about now. She would smile now at the doomed Prince. She didn't need him going insane and making a run for it. Better to be calm, nice, and then just leave before her brother or the Prince did something stupid. No...Her brother wouldn't do anything. Even if he did think he had some kind of attachment to the Prince, there was no way he would mess up this big of a job. She could trust him. All they had was each other, after all.
Humming quietly, she tied the Prince's held out hands in front of his chest, perfectly ignoring the look of utter betrayal being sent her way from blue eyes. He had known who she was from the very beginning. Just because she had pretended to be nice didn't mean she wasn't going to risk not getting paid. She wasn't betraying him because she had never been on his side in the first place.
"Come on Dami! The boss said he was coming when the moon came up!" she said, eying the quickly sinking sun. They would come back in the morning and receive the second half of their payment. If it wasn't there, they would just hunt down the boss and get their owe.
"Okay. Just...Just one minute, okay, Vi?" she stared at Dami, leaning against of the many trees, staring at the ground, and rubbing at his scar. His tone was childishly sad. She narrowed her eyes at him for a brief moment before smiling sadly and nodding understandingly.
"Of course...Goodbye, Prince." she said, giving the blond boy a kiss on the head. She wished she could stab that skull herself. Sometimes she felt that burning desire to just...Hurt. And it was the Prince's kind of people that she most wanted to hurt. Those beautiful, naive people. She walked away, though, at least until she was sure neither of them could see her. Then she watched.
Her brother approached the tied Prince, the silence so thick it choked even her. Dami knelt in front of the Prince, both of their heads bowed as if they were praying together. The fading sunlight hit them and they were truly the very picture of a sad departure.
Dami brushed a hand down the Prince's bruised cheek, making the blond flinch away from the touch. And that was just like them. Loving gestures turned into pain. Violet thought she was doing a Dami a favor by making sure this boy died. If they ever had a relationship, it would just be a hurtful one.
"I'm sorry." she heard Dami whisper, now looking up, seeming to be looking almost desperately at the Prince.
"No you're not. If you were you wouldn't be doing this." The Prince whispered back, the words pushed and spat out from pretty lips, burning like fire. And Dami got burned. She saw it hit him, saw the anger and frustration sink into his features. She watched as he yanked the Prince's head up by his chin, forcing those blue eyes to stare at him.
"I mean every last word of what I'm saying... I'm sorry." Dami said forcefully. Maybe he was trying to make it true. Maybe he really did mean it. It didn't matter. There was no way the Prince was going to live. The man who had hired them would be coming soon and then it would be all over. The end. No happily ever after for scarred thieves and mages. It didn't work like that. Even when a handsome and troubled Prince was thrown into the mix.
"Then let me go." The Prince pleaded, those tied hands coming up to grasp at her brother's tunic. Dami just gripped the blond's chin tighter and turned his head away, glaring at the ground as if that would somehow make it all better.
"I can't. You know I can't. I'm sorry." Dami repeated gruffly, ignoring the way the hands tried to shake him with their reduced mobility.
"Stop saying that! Stop saying you're sorry when you won't save me!" The Prince shouted. Violet was almost amused to see tears pouring so easily from those prized blue eyes. However, she was shocked, truly and utterly, shocked to watch a few tears roll down Dami's cheeks. The Prince wasn't that important. No. That was impossible.
"I want to...I want to...But me and Violet need this money, don't you understand?! We won't live without this!" Dami shouted back, turning back to face the Prince, his hands shaking as he saw the tears. They both looked so angry. She wondered if they were angry at each other or fate.
"My father could give you both money in exchange for my life." the Prince said quietly, seriously, perfectly serious. Violet almost scoffed from her hiding place. Both her and Dami knew the moment they stepped anywhere near the kingdom with the Prince they would be killed before any of them got a word in edgewise.
"You know that won't work. You're so stupid!" Dami shouted the last line even as those tears slipped out and shaking hands laid on the shivering shoulders of the stupid Prince.
"And to think that I trusted you!" the Prince shouted back. The silence returned. What trust had there been, really? Had the Prince really trusted her brother? Then Dami was right. The Prince was very stupid indeed.
"You knew you couldn't trust me..." Dami almost mumbled, staring. Both eyes were crying. The Prince's face was dirty. Dami's was scarred. The tears rolled down, hitting the ground as the silence reined.
"I love you but I can't help but hate you." The Prince whispered, the words dropping into their bubble like needles, popping it painfully. Those words. Oh, those words were so deadly. She watched as they stabbed her brother, watched him take a sharp intake of breath, watched stinging tears roll down his cheeks. She watched the way his eyes widened before closing as if to recover from a blow.
"I'm sorry." Dami whispered one last time, leaning up as if to capture the Prince's lips, but the Prince turned his head, eyes squeezed shut. It seemed he had stabbed himself as well with those dangerous words. Her brother stood up, pulling his hands away, pulling the Prince's hands away. And then he was walking out of the clearing.
She was there to meet him, smiling sadly, looking at him like she was worried. She held his hand as they walked away. They left the Prince with his blond head bowed, the last of the sunlight, the last moments of his life, fading away.
They would be better without him. She was sure.
-------
"Ah! Those dirty mages actually did it!" The prince didn't bother lifting his head. He knew it was the man who had paid Damien and Violet to kidnap him. He heard several people in the clearing, but they were all silent except for that one booming voice.
A hand tied itself into his hair and yanked his head up painfully. He didn't dare wince, though, and instead stared defiantly into the shiny, black eyes of his captor. They were nothing like Damien's or Violet's. Theirs' were like dark holes, things you got lost in. This man's were like stones. Cold. Hard.
He saw himself reflected in them, his blue eyes glaring, hair held so tightly in that firm grip, hands holding themselves, woven in pray form. He admired his looks for a brief moment before realizing this was going to be the last time he ever saw his reflection. And he was seeing it in the eyes of his murderer.
"Oh? The pretty prince has some fight in him? Well believe me, boy, you won't have any of that when I'm done with you. I've waited too long. Paid too much. To not enjoy your death." the tall and strong man released him, shoving him backwards into the dirt. The man flicked back a long ponytail over his shoulder, hair as shiny and black as his eyes.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked quietly, staring from the dirt, numb, angry, hurt. His last meeting with Damien...He was here now because Damien refused to rescue him. Refused to give him even a small chance of escape or a way to fight back. No, he just left him, tied, no weapon, no defense, no reason. The only thing he had given him were fresh and open wounds of a bitter relationship torn apart.
"Why am I doing this? Why am I killing you, boy?" the man asked, laughing, before kicking him the stomach, sparing nothing. He couldn't help but curl into himself, his arms trying to holding the area of pain, and, of course, unable to.
"I'm doing this because your daddy named my son a thief of some jewel. Some jewel that your daddy has plenty of. A jewel he wouldn't even miss. A jewel that my son didn't even steal! And your daddy killed my son for some stupid lie about a stupid, insignificant jewel. Now. Now, I'm going to kill you. And send your daddy your pretty, blond head as a message." the man laughed again, an insane noise. He didn't remember his father ever doing such a thing, but it was possible it had happened and he didn't know.
And this meant there was no way he was going to talk his way out of this. What did you say to a man who had lost his son to your father? He didn't deserve to die! He didn't want to die for his father's mistake! He kicked at the man, trying to trip him. The minute his leg shot out, it was caught by one of the men surrounding them. The other leg was quickly captured by another men. He struggled, of course, but to no avail.
"Gutsy, boy. My son was gutsy, too, you know? His name was Ezekiel. I think I'll carve that into your skin. Then you'll never forget it like you're daddy has." the man said and snapped his fingers.
Immediately the men cut his ropes. He thought, for a brief, insane moment that they were letting him go. But instead, one man grabbed each arm. The four men lifted him until he was spread and high in the air. The man with the shiny eyes smiled. The smile was sharp and looked painful to wear. Then he pulled out a knife, the blade serrated. It gleamed in the moonlight, deadly.
He couldn't tear his eyes from that knife. It occurred to him that would be the thing that killed him. Not the man. Not Damien. That knife would take his life. A simple weapon. Something he had once scoffed at it when his instructor had asked if he wanted to learn how to use one. He remembered saying that anyone could stab someone with a knife. It took a real gentlemen to kill someone with a sword. It seemed like a lifetime ago he had said such a thing.
'Oh irony. You are a cruel mistress.'
He finally managed to close his eyes as the man approached, the knife held as if it were precious in his hand. He thought of Damien. When he had first seen him. When they had first argued. When he had told him that he would never see his home again. When he had punched him. When he had saved him. When he had smiled at him. When he had been shoved to the ground and glared even as he laughed. When he knelt in front of him and cried. The way he had looked when he said he loved him. The way he had looked when he said he hated him.
"Give Zeke my love in the after life." the man whispered, his voice insane and filled with years worth of sadness. The voice of a man who would mourn even after he got his so called revenge.
He couldn't watch the knife come closer. He focused on Damien, even though he knew he was about to die because of the boy, it didn't stop the images and memories from flashing behind his eye lids. The air whipped around them and he knew the knife was fast approaching and tried to brace himself for the pain.
"Damien." he whispered quickly, the knife just a hair's breath from his skin.
"Hey dumbass!"
Huh?
The prince's eyes opened at that voice and blinked as a huge fireball flew towards him. The men holding him seemed to realize that it was heading straight for them as well, because they dropped him and tried to run. He landed painfully on the hard ground. Owie! His poor behind...But it was a lot better then a knife wound! He watched before wincing as the fireball lit several of the men on fire, the flames licking at them as they screamed. Ick. What a way to go.
"Ah!" he shouted as he was dragged up by his hair, a strong arm suddenly around his throat, the knife held at the end. He stared at it, listening to the men dying of the fire, feeling the forest getting hotter as the trees around them caught on fire with the men.
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xoxAiekxox
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If everything was perfect...
Would we have a favorite song?
Because the ones that mean the most...
Are about what we've done wrong.