Arc II - A Prince Is Never Late, nor Is He Early, He Arrives Precisely When His Assassin Decides He Can Go Home Now

Chapter VII - Valainya *cue Lightning*

The last day of the journey is quiet, as the silhouette of the castle grows in the distance.

Elias looks forward, watching the castle in trepidation. He tries to figure out an explanation for his disappearance that won’t make his sister put his new knight’s head on a pike. Still, while every explanation he comes up with is rather fantastical, he’s relatively happy that he now has someone that he can both help and rely on at the same time. He’s aware that this is possibly risky, this man could betray him at any time… still, he’s willing to put his trust in both him and the aura he saw around him.

Noras grips the reins tighter every meter they travel. He can’t stop himself from sneaking quick glances at Elias. The prince gazes steadily ahead, appearing completely calm. Noras can’t understand how he can be, sitting placidly beside his captor. Ex-captor. Same difference. The larger the castle looms, the more Noras feels his gaze pulled to Elias, as though the prince’s calm composure could somehow convince him that this is a half-decent idea. He wonders how long this calm will last. He wonders how long Elias will continue to think that this is a half-decent idea himself.

The sky darkens around them with the palace still looming on the horizon, but Elias insists on continuing - he can’t miss any more work.

Elias: The common folk need someone to complain to, and I’ve been gone for a week and a half. I’m honestly surprised the kingdom isn’t in ruin right now.

Noras: [with feigned lightheartedness] You sure think highly of yourself.

Elias: I was attempting a joke. Clearly, it didn’t work.

Noras: [fidgeting with the reins, eyes fixed on the castle] What are you going to tell them?

Elias, mentally crossing out the explanation that includes necromancers: Who? The guards or my family?

Noras: Both. Everyone. You’re just going to show up looking like this after a week and a half - with me - and tell them… what?

Elias, speaking his most believable explanation: That I met you during my travels, and that you’re now my knight. Most people won’t care, it’s Valainya that I have to convince.

Noras: Valainya?

Elias: Yes. She’s my eldest sister. I suppose I should have probably warned you ahead of time, because she is terrifying.

Noras looks ahead. The castle is growing closer. He can make out the gates. His hands twitch on the reins, pulling them back ever so slightly: There’s still time… I can disappear so quickly. You wouldn’t even realise I was gone. I can do it.

Elias: Of course I would realise. Still - don’t worry about Valainya, I know how to calm her… Besides, she’s wanted me to get a knight for years, it would be foolish to send the... only person I’ve accepted away.

Noras: I’m sure she would’ve preferred someone who has never tried to maim you… [he closes his eyes, drawing in a deep breath] Is there - anything I should keep in mind? Anything I should or shouldn’t do?

Elias: The worst thing you did to me was make me sleep on the floor. As for that… [hums] Don’t look her in the eyes. She doesn’t care for bowing or grovelling, but she’ll take a stare as a challenge.

Noras: [with a short, nervous laugh] I’ve never looked a royal in the eye in my life. [Pause] Well, except the ones I’ve killed. [Longer pause] And you.

Elias: [laughs softly] Maybe one other thing you shouldn’t mention. No talk of kidnapping and murder in the presence of others, I think.

Noras: [dryly] I’ll keep it in mind.

The palace gates draw near, guards becoming visible, patrolling the ground in front of them.

Noras: [under his breath] Madarchod.

Elias: [Petting Sir Fluffles absent-mindedly] Hmm?

Noras: Are you - are you sure about this, Elias? Are you certain? We’re almost at the gate - and then there’s no going back.

Elias: [sighing] This is the 167th time you’ve asked - and yes, I counted. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean it. I don’t sugarcoat things, especially not decisions as serious as this.

Noras: [letting out a long breath] You’re really sure about this, huh. About me. [looking at Elias] Don’t worry, it’s a rhetorical question. [He looks back towards the palace] Well, I hope you know what you’re doing, your highness. We’re almost there.

Elias: [smiles] Getting in will be easy, it will be getting out once my sister finds out I’m home that will be hard.

Noras glances warily between Elias and the palace, shifting in his seat. The cart rolls up to the gates.

Guard: Halt! Who goes - Prince Elias? [he seems flustered] I apologise. Should I announce you and your… [he takes in their looks and narrows his eyes, grip tightening on his weapon] … guest’s arrival?

Elias: [suddenly very stoic and authoritative] No. We will be going to my wing. Let the maids know to draw two baths, and to bring some food to us. And take this horse to the stables. That will be all.

He gets down from the cart, Sir Fluffles in his arms, and beckons for Noras to follow him as the gates open and a few more guards come out, going for Jeade. Noras hesitates, holding onto Jeade’s bridle, casting an appraising look at the guards.

Elias: Let’s go, they’ll take good care of him, [he turns to level a cold stare at the guards] won’t you?

Guards: [tensing up] Of course, your highness.

Elias: Hm. [He walks into the palace courtyard, turning to wait for Noras].

Noras watches with a frown as his horse is led away, but shakes himself off and walks after Elias, the frown returning as he glances around. Under his breath, he notes: It’s so empty for such a big place…

Elias: There are more people during the day of course. Night is when everyone is asleep, save for the night-shift guards. Come, this way [he leads Noras away from the main palace and off to a separate gated area, one that Noras recognises as Elias’ wing].

Noras gives a strangled laugh: Memories.

Elias: [his voice losing the coldness] You’ll make new ones.

Noras gives him a strange, unreadable look.

They arrive at Elias’ chambers, where, as requested, palace staff have drawn up a bath for Elias, with a separate basin prepared for Noras off to the side. Palace maids in a line by the door, some holding now-empty trays. They look at Noras in curiosity, and squeak as Elias turns his gaze to them

Elias: Thank you, you may go back to bed. [The maids curtsey quickly and walk quickly out of the room].

Elias sighs, shoulders drooping, as he places Sir Fluffles on the floor: Go to your family.

Sir Fluffles sniffs at his leg for a second, and then jumps away into a separate room.

Elias: Once we take our baths, I’ll show you to your room. But for now, we have a second to spend time on, and to talk amongst ourselves.

Noras, standing a few steps behind Elias, doesn’t seem to hear him. From the moment they entered the room, his eyes have been fixed on the washbasins.

Noras: [softly, but with feeling] A warm bath… it’s been so long…

He takes a step towards the basin, grabbing his shirt and yanking it halfway over his head before freezing — recalling, suddenly, that this is a palace, not some seedy inn in the grimy back alleys of a gang city. He glances at Elias: Ah, can I…?

Elias: [one second calm and collected, the next frozen] Oh! Um. I’m so- so sorry. I’ll be in the next room if you need me. [He strides rather quickly out of the room, following after Sir Fluffles]

Noras, left alone in this enormous room, shifts in place, but the warm water calls and every strange and unfamiliar part of these royal chambers falls away as he approaches the basin. He drops his clothes, all covered in dirt and blood, on the shiny white floor, and in the moment before he enters the water, when he catches sight of himself in the mirror, at the parts of himself that would prompt conversations that he is not, may never be, ready to have, he feels a sudden wash of relief at the prince’s absence.

The water is hot and Noras sinks into it, letting the warmth soothe his injuries. But the better he feels, the more his mind rails against the sensation. The water feels good but the basin that houses it and the room it was brought to and the fresh clothes that rest beside it are relics of a world that is so far from the one he comes from. This is not a world he deserves. It is not a world that he could exist in, even if he did, somehow, earn it. He is not made of the same material as the things that exist in this world.

Noras closes his eyes, and stays in the water until it turns cold, and then he puts on the clean clothes and tries not to think about how these embroidered sleeves are more expensive than he was.

Elias, in the other room, pets Dame Fluffles as the rabbits crowd him, welcoming him back. In a sea of fluffy butts, he wonders why he freaked out when Noras started undressing. He frowns, wondering if he’s perhaps sick.

Elias, now calm and collected, comes back into the room later, about ten minutes after he heard Noras get out of the tub: How was the bath?

Noras, shifting in place and picking at the threads on his sleeves: It was… nice. It’s been awhile. [after a beat] ...Thank you.

Elias: What for? It’s just a bath. [He himself, without the same reservations as he has with seeing others, starts to take off his layers and goes towards the bath, slowly untangling his braid]

Noras gives a slight, cryptic smile: …I guess it is. [He looks at Elias, noticing the sudden lack of clothes, and frowns] Oh - should I - leave?

Elias, looking over his shoulder as he slips out of his undershirt: If you want to, but I would prefer you stay, to talk. [he then moves behind a screen that had been placed in front of his basin]

Noras nods, glancing around the room. He notices a few small chairs clustered around a table, and walks over to them, carrying one to position it beside a window that overlooks the city. He thinks for a moment, before beginning, awkwardly: What… did you want to talk about?

Elias, settling into the bath with a happy sigh, and then thinking for a second: What do you want? In life, I mean. [runs his hands through his hair, getting the grime out]

Noras blinks, surprised: I… shit, uh… well… [he frowns to himself and stares out the window, thinking for several minutes before he finds his answer] I want to be free. And… safe.

Elias, pausing, then turning to face Noras, moving the screen slightly to the side: [softly] Noras, look at me.

Noras hesitates, and then turns slowly, not liking the gentleness of Elias’ tone, not knowing what to do with it.

Elias gives Noras a reassuring smile: I swear, as long as I’m alive, I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you stay safe and free… I promise.

Noras stares at him, mind going blank. He supposes he should have expected Elias to come up with something like that, but hearing it out loud is… something else.

Elias, satisfied, gives him one last warm smile, before turning to scrub himself free of any remaining dirt, dunking his hair underwater one last time. It’s then that Noras realises that both his eyes are blue, and that the orange is missing.

Noras shakes off his daze and squints at Elias as he resurfaces: What happened to your eye?

Elias turns to face him again, blinking - and sure enough, his orange eye is now blue: Pardon?

Noras: Your eye is - it’s blue. It was orange before.

Elias stares at Noras for a second before laughing, he then closes his eyes, and Noras sees his makeup fading back into existence: You mean this? [he opens his eyes, and the orange is back]

Noras: [blinking] Yes - what? How are you doing that?

Elias chuckles, blinking, and the makeup and orange eye is gone: My magic makes my eyes orange. Since I use only a tiny bit of minor illusion magic to make it seem like I’m wearing makeup, only one of them takes the colour.

Noras, thinking back: When Orville’s men tried to kill me, both of your eyes turned orange… How much magic were you using then? [He considers his own question for a moment] How do you count magic?

Elias loses a bit of his smile, frowning a bit as he reaches up to touch his cheek under his eye: That spell… it’s… [he frowns and turns] nevermind. I’m not sure how you count magic, I just know that if you use too much at once, your eyes both change colour, and… they glow. [he looks at Noras] Nearly everyone can use magic, some people just have different reservoirs. The amount of magic you use, and the type, all depends on what you were born with.

Noras frowns at Elias, caught between two questions. Finally, hesitantly, he asks: Do you… would you know… what type I have?

Elias ponders for a second before reaching for his towel: I could cook up a potion that could tell you, although I wouldn’t know how much you have, we’d have to figure that out by testing how much you can use at once. [he pulls back the screen to hide him, and stands up, wrapping his towel around himself and stepping out of the bath]

Noras: ...Maybe. [He turns back to the window] How long have you studied magic?

Elias, walking over to his bed where his pyjamas are resting: For… [he thinks for a second] four years now.

Noras: That’s not so long ago… how’d you start?

Elias walks back over to the screen: [hesitates] I… [pauses, debating what to say before settling] found a book when I was about 14. I had a lot of time on my hands, so I sought more out. A rather boring way to figure out you have an aptitude for the arcane.

Noras hums: Hmm… that’s true. Personally, I found out about my… aptitude for murder in a much more interesting way.

Elias turns, finally dressed, his mouth open to ask something, when he freezes in place, eyes locked at a figure leaning against the doorway.

Noras hears the click of boots on the marble floor as the figure walks into the room, and he tenses, half-rising out of his chair to look at the woman.

The woman, tall, imposing, and dressed in armour: Elias Osian Eugene Percival Connor de Perez IV. Where in the Underdark have you been!? [her deep blue eyes snap to Noras, and she reaches for the great sword on her back] And who the fuck is this?