Fawkes had considered, more than once, attempting escape as he laid in the small cot in the cold, damp room.

He was quickly deterred, however, as he realized very quickly the peacekeeper did not sleep.

With each little fidget or movement he made, she would immediately sit in her bed and look over at him, eyes narrowed in a mix of caution and annoyance.

It had only grown slightly exhausting because this would not have been the most difficult thing for him to escape. Certainly easier than the prison cell beneath the capitol’s temple. It wasn’t clear to Fawkes if he gave up because of fear of the peacekeeper, or resignation to his fate, but after a few wiggles of attempt, he decided it perhaps for the best to go along with his circumstances. At least for now.

~

As soon as sunlight touched the sky, Joanna set the trio to road, barely missing the arrival of guards upon the city walls as they escaped. They kept to shadows, the darkness of the peacekeeper and her apprentice’s clothing seemed rather beneficial to the task, but the prince was still in clothing he had obtained from the castle, bright blues and shiny leather.

This did not go without Joanna’s notice, and she insisted he stay directly to her front at all times, hoping that if nothing else, she could obscure other’s view of him.

It also crossed the peacekeeper’s mind that she would need to find some way to hide the prince’s hair, the bright gold hues reflected brilliantly off of any light that hit his head made him nothing, if not noticeable.

By some miracle, they made it just past the houses that lined the fields just outside the kingdom’s stone walls, directing themselves to the trail that led to the encompassing forest.

It had been mostly hurry and silence, but Fawkes thought that perhaps he should break that.

“So...where  exactly are we headed?”

Jo pointed out towards a house just before the trail met woods, “First we get horses, then Elderwood.”

Fawkes frowned as it was a bit of a shorter answer than he had expected, “Horses? You came rather prepared.”

“Was I not supposed to?” The peacekeeper smirked, “I can always have you walk the whole way if you prefer to travel by more dangerous methods.”

“No, no. Horses are fine.” Fawkes quickly corrected.

“Good.” Jo said, “And before you ask, you’re riding with me.”

He hadn’t planned to ask, but he supposed it made sense. She was the one in charge, which meant he would be under hers for the time being. Fawkes sped up his pace a bit, trying to match Emrys’ stride.

“I wasn’t planning to ask anything of the contrary,” He said to Jo, hoping the raven-haired boy noticed he had gotten closer, “Though I must admit I am slightly disappointed.”

Fawkes couldn’t help but smile when he heard Emrys scoff, despite the fact he made no other attempt to acknowledge Fawkes in the slightest.

“Well, if I knew he wouldn’t kill you, I’d have offered to let you ride with my friend.” Jo grinned, as humored as Fawkes was by Emrys’ clear annoyance.

Not that he was hard to annoy, of course. Joanna had known the boy long enough to know that he only seemed unflappable. Most everything annoyed Emrys to some degree, it was just internalized.

Something had to really get under his skin for it the be evident in his expressions.

“Jo, please don’t encourage him.” Emrys said flatly, shooting her a look of desperation before noticing that Fawkes had begun to walk closer. Emrys decided it wasn’t worth acknowledging. A part of him hoped that if he ignored the crown prince long enough that perhaps he would disappear.

Fawkes noticed the little sigh in his direction and a brief but fleeting glance from those pale blue eyes.

“You’re telling me that you aren’t even the slightest bit interested?” He asked smugly, “In me, I mean.”

Emrys tried to use the least encouraging wording he could muster, “No. Not particularly.”

“Crowned prince of Lowthen, attempted assassin, roguishly handsome, and ruggedly charming?” Fawkes continued to prod, watching to see if Emrys’ expression changed at all.

Emrys frowned, continuing to walk wordlessly.

Jo snickered, quickening her own pace to watch the show, “Two out of four isn’t bad, I suppose.”

Fawkes turned to her with a comedically over-exaggerated frown, now walking backwards, “You should know that I am certainly the crowned prince and unfortunately I really did attempt to kill the Augustine.”

Jo stared at him, his meaning missing her entirely.

“Because ...the two that are undoubtedly true are the last two statements?” He explained, watching as realization dawned on her and she cackled wildly.

Fawkes’ attention turned back to the silent third member of the party, “You can’t tell me you’re not the least bit interested in hearing my story, at least.”

He watched as something flickered in Emrys’ expression as he glanced over, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he spoke, “Not particularly, I’m willing to wager any story of yours would be quite the boring tale.”

Fawkes blinked as his own words came back to him, not sure of how exactly he felt.

Mostly he was impressed, but he’d never actually admit that to anyone.

Emrys, at least, was clearly pleased with himself.

Worse of all was the smug look on his face as he proceeded forward, Fawkes’ pace slowing as he’d not just been defeated, but was actually quite a bit surprised.

They made it to the stables and saddled up, Fawkes taking a black and white spotted horse with Joanna, while Emrys attended to his own, a soft brown horse that was much smaller and seemed a bit farther along in age.

He spoke to her softly, gently stroking her face before he even dared to put her saddle on. It was evident that he cared for the creature, more so than most would.

And far more than he seemed to care for most anyone else either.

Jo poked Fawkes in the side with her elbow, “Are you picky about where you sit?”

Fawkes frowned. He was, in fact, very particular about riding a horse, but he wasn’t about to admit that to the person whose care he would be under for gods knew how long.

Fawkes shook his head in response and Jo nodded with a smile, hopping atop her horse and extending her hand to Fawkes.

“In that case, let’s get going.”

~

Joanna had regretted taking this assignment a few hours into their trek through the woods. Even more than taking this job, she strongly regretted the kindness she had given Emrys by not making him ride with their prisoner.

He sat behind her, squeezing his arms around her for dear life anytime the horses were even slightly faster than a trot. It was amusing the first few times, but became far less so as time wore on.

The worst part, however, was how much he talked.

It was as though the thing Fawkes loved most in the world was the sound of his own voice. Which, Jo assumed, wasn’t the most far-fetched thing she could imagine when it came to her new ward. One story rambled on into another until there came a point that Joanna wasn’t entirely sure how many stories he had told or if this was still, by some strange miracle, all still the same one.

“Fawkes.” She said sharply, not caring if he were in mid-sentence or not at this point, “Sometimes it is better to observe and listen than it is to speak.”

“I was simply trying to get to know you.” He said defensively, not missing a beat.

His response amused her, “Don’t you think that would be easier to accomplish were you to stop talking about yourself for a moment?”

“Fine.” He huffed like an indignant child, “Your turn, then.”

“My turn for what?” Jo asked, grinning, “I was hoping to take a moment to appreciate the sounds of nature for a bit.”

“And we’re supposed to get acquainted with one another by listening to the sounds of nature?” Fawkes frowned as Jo shot an amused smirk back at him, clearly not taking the hint in any capacity.

“By all accounts,” Jo said slowly, “You’re my prisoner for the time being. There’s really no getting acquainted necessary.”

Fawkes huffed, though his smirk betrayed that he wasn’t actually upset, “Are all peacekeepers this mean? Or just the two of you?”

“I’d like to think the two of us are certainly the meanest,” Jo said with a chuckle, “But it’s quite hit or miss with the other ones.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” Fawkes sighed, “Everyone is sort of there because they committed a crime.”

Jo stayed quiet to that.

He wasn’t necessarily wrong, of course. Peacekeepers were demon hunters, sentenced to their fates as some sort of punishment for something they’d done, everyone knew that because it was true, to a degree.

The tricky part of it being what most found to be irredeemable, horrible, punishable crimes.

It varied. There were obviously those among the ranks who deserved to be there, the real scum-of-the-earth sort, and while not universally true, they were certainly some of the least durable members.

Joanna had found in her many years among the order that if you were atrocious enough to commit certain crimes, there was quite the high likelihood that you were also stupid enough to be among the soonest killed.

Though, like most things, it wasn’t necessarily a universal truth.

The only thing she’d seen that seemed to be a universal truth, or at least as close to one as something could be, was that the broken people always lasted the longest.

There were plenty of scum among the ranks, but there were far more people who didn’t deserve punishment. Mages who’d been caught, broken souls who were doing whatever they could to survive, bastards who’d never known love, thieves only trying to keep their families alive...there were far too many of those. There were those who’d only been curious, those who’d only been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Joanna liked to think she was among those. Curiosity being her greatest sin.

Greatest, but certainly not only.

She deserved it, at least in her opinion, more so than Emrys.

Poor, beautiful, broken, Emrys. He deserved punishment least of all.

Joanna couldn’t help but wonder where, on this arbitrary scale she’d used time and time again, her new prisoner would fall.