Chapter Text
“What?” Will croaks. His throat can barely manage the smallest of noises. He’s breathing out of a pinhole.
Even now, after Mike has dropped the equivalent of an entire fleets’ arrows upon Will’s mind, his eyes do not dare look at Will’s form. Perhaps Will should be grateful for it. Relieved, even. That Mike wouldn’t consider himself rude enough to disturb Will’s spiraling after calling down all of the King's horses and men to rain down Hellfire on his heart.
Maybe Will would admit to giving in to some of the dramatics that the tension had drug up. But the entire day, even after the doubt and the worry and the guilt, Will had allowed himself to believe that Mike had at least come to visit. After five years of his absence, Mike had returned to their little towne. And Will had led himself to believe that the next few days, however fleeting they were, would be filled with comradery. Everyday would feel like this one had; Warm, comforting, familiar. And maybe, for at least a day or two, Will would have let himself pretend like it would last forever.
Will could not even have that. And the realization was leaving scathing marks.
Will wishes to be able to ask why, why had Mike come all this way just for him? But the aching in his stomach and the icy anger in his chest were too busy battling it out.
“Why? What’s the point if there’s already magic users in The Kingdom?” Dustin interjects into the silence, throwing his hands up.
Mike is quiet for far too long. His scarred hands lie upon the table, fussing with each other. With every silent second, Will can feel the frustration coming off his friends in hot waves. He looks to the empty goblets strewn across the table, and suddenly regrets their existence.
“Can we speak about this somewhere else?” Mike mumbles finally. He looks like an owl, his head swiveling every which way as he scans the area. Will isn’t even sure what exactly he could be looking for. An intruder? A spy for some other kingdom? His alertness is only sharpened by the lack of alcohol in his system, and Will has to wonder if maybe that was intentional.
“Is that really necessary? Who cares?!” Luc scoffs. Mike’s head snaps towards him now.
“It absolutely is necessary!” Mike hisses, his hand jumping up to point to Luc’s chest, right above his heart. “Everything I am telling you is meant to be secret. To even utter the words is breaking an oath.”
Luc slaps his hand away, his brows screwed up and his nostrils flaring. Mike scowls.
“You’re acting ridiculous. I don’t care if you’re a knight, I don’t care if you took some stupid oath! We’re still your friends.” Luc spits. Mike is hushed by this, lips pinched into a thin line. He looks like he wishes to argue more, but the words leave him. There’s a clear presence of frustration behind his gaze, pointedly looking between the table and Luc. Something in his brow continues to loosen and then tighten once more, like he’s arguing with some invisible force.
“There’s something wrong.” He mutters, as quiet as he can manage amongst the ambiance. He sounds as though he is fighting to get the words out. “I don’t know exactly what it is. But the kingdom is practically on lock down.”
Will watches as the color drains from Dustin’s face, while Luc only appears skeptical. Will himself has to swallow a lump that rises in his throat.
He thinks about the Hawksmen. And the closed gates. The extra patrols.
"Like a war?" Dustin asks, his voice far too loud and trembling far too much. Mike winces like it hurts him, shushing Dustin with a finger to his lips.
"No! No. Not like a war. Like…" He grows quiet, chewing on his lip. "There's been these… portals of some kind forming. None of them have opened…but we keep finding them."
Will, still unable to take more than the most shallow of breaths, rests his head against his hands, pressing his palms against the sockets of his eyes. There was a dull ache forming at the center of his skull, throbbing pressure growing almost distracting. He can't find it in himself to ask any of his own questions, left with them swirling unanswered alongside the pain.
Did the Hawksmen know about the Kingdom? About these portals? Were they instructed to be on standby?
"Unopened portals? How does that work?" Luc asks instead.
"It's like a gate. It's closed, but we can see that it leads somewhere." Mike explains. "We don't know what lies on the other side. But citizens have been reporting finding…dead animals...near them."
Dustin and Luc both give noises of discomfort.
Will thinks about Luc’s traps.
Another pause of silence as they all try to register this. Will can hear Mike shuffling beside him.
"So why do they need magic users?" Will finally mutters, his voice muffled by his hands. The pressure continues, now moving between his temples and down behind his ears.
Will’s words somehow break whatever force that had been keeping Mike from looking at him. He looks at him in full now, unabashed and bewildered.
"What?" Mike asks. Will raises his head, sniffling and trying not to flinch at the pain as it moves.
" Why do they need magic users?" He repeats, his voice much sharper than he intends. Mike shrivels up, his shoulders stiff.
"The King believes that a guild of powerful mages would be able to close the portals." He explains slowly. Will’s jaw sets, the pounding pain at the center of his skull only adding to the beating of slow anger that threatened to rise. He didn’t like feeling this way. He hated the idea that this anger was pointed at Mike. But the stress that had only built up since that morning was starting to wear on Will. It was wailing hard at his head, reminding him over and over again of the exact fears that had plagued him since Mike had first left.
"So why are you asking me?" Will asks. If the King needed a powerful mage, everybody knew that Will was not the one to ask for.
People in Hawks End knew El as a mage. She never quite made a spectacle of herself, but she didn’t need to. The ease for which her magic came was awe inspiring in itself. The old woman who traded with them had given El a book of spells, and told her to practice often. And El did. She tore through the book in the span of a night, feasting on the paragraphs upon paragraphs about the power she possessed. She practiced, and she got better. More graceful. More mindful of what she could and couldn’t do. She knew her limits, but her limit stretched so far that it felt infinite to Will.
Will had tried to read the book once. All he could think about was how long he’d have to sleep after casting a simple transfiguration spell.
"What-- Will. Why wouldn't I ask you?" Mike sputters, his nose scrunched up. Will knows what Mike is picturing when he says it. He knows that Mike always found such fascination in Will’s magic. When they were little, and Will’s magic was only starting to bloom, Mike would beg him day in and day out to perform simple spells and tricks. He was amazed, no matter how minuscule the feat was.
"Because!" Will spit anyway. It didn’t matter how Mike remembered it, because Will was an adult now. "Because I'm not a powerful mage. I'm barely a magic user at all!"
"Bullshit!" Mike smacks the table, making the empty goblets jump. Mike is picturing the little boy that made the lily pads dance on the water's surface. The little boy that could turn yellow flowers blue. He wasn’t seeing Will. And Will’s realizing that maybe he hadn’t been seeing Mike, either.
" No, it's true and you know it." Will stands up, his hands bearing down on the table as he leans forward. "I don't use my magic, Mike. When's the last time either of you guys saw me cast a spell?"
Will looks at Luc and Dustin, who have not moved a muscle since Will first spoke. They both look petrified, eyes wide. Luc frowns, scratching at his arm.
"Will…" He tries to say, his gaze falling somewhere on the floor. Will huffs.
"And even if I tried to,” Will continues, closing the curtains on anyone else’s chance. “I run the risk of passing out! What kind of powerful mage needs a full day of bedrest after one spell?"
Will thinks about the walls of his bedchamber. The smooth, gray stone. Never changing. The days he had spent lying in his bed, rotting like a corpse left to the will of the Earth, were uncountable. Only hours before, that very morning, Will had felt weakened by only the simplest of protection spells. It was no simpler than turning a key in a lock. But Will had felt the ache in his temples and his hands for nearly an hour afterwards.
To close a portal? To wipe out monsters? To fight alongside real, valuable knights and heroes? Will thinks it would kill him.
"You wouldn't be the only one there-" Mike tries to speak up, but Will wheels on him so fast, the fire behind them flickers.
"That doesn't matter, Mike! You shouldn't take me. You should take someone like El. She knows what she's doing. She knows how to use her magic. I don't. The only reason you're asking me is 'cause I'm the only magic user you know!"
Will’s voice is so loud that patrons in the immediate vicinity have been hushed into silence, staring at them with mixed expressions of worry and distaste. Will wishes he had the power to turn all of their heads away.
The pounding in his head grows louder.
"Will, I came to you because I trust you-" Mike begs.
"Well put your trust into someone else! Because I can't do it. I can't help you. Take El. Not me."
The chair behind Will clatters to the ground as he leaves, keeping his pace even as he feels the wandering eyes follow him. The headache accompanies every step like the beating of drums. Heavy and loud.
"Will! Will!" Someone calls after him. He doesn’t turn around.
Will has already made it out of the tavern and far down the street by the time it feels like the world has carried on again, striking up the cacophony of chatter and music and life. He walks clumsily, feeling the alcohol he had consumed churning uncomfortably in the bottom of his stomach. The effect that it was having on his body, along with the ever growing pain in his head, made for dangerous travel conditions. But Will never slows.
He didn’t know where he was going, allowing his feet to carry him farther and farther away without thought, into parts of the towne where the street lanterns flickered dangerously and captured the streets in shadow. Will doesn’t recognize where he’s ended up, the tears brimming his eyes only causing him to be less sure. The crowds thinned here, citizens retreating to their homes as the night crawled on. Nobody stares at Will here, which makes it feel like the safest option.
A wince escapes him as the headache sits itself towards the peak of his hairline, making itself known again. Will slows his pace to a halt, grabbing his temples and attempting to massage them. The stopping of movement only allows for the tears to take their cue, bubbling up until they’re beading off of Will’s eyelashes.
Will had never felt so embarrassed. The painful recoil of every feeling he had put out into the open was now hitting him right in the face.
Every anxious worry and threatening thought were taking their turns raking through his brain. The guards. The gate. The traps. The dream.
And yet, Will can only think about that morning, standing in a valley of golden grass, holding the face of his best friend as if they were… lovers. Mike held him back. He had told Will that he was happy to see him.
As if he weren’t already angry enough, Will can see the paint still caked underneath his nail bed. He lets out a pitiful sob, shaking his head.
Will finds himself sinking to the side of the road, sitting amongst the cobblestone and dirt. The pain was growing unbearable. He wondered if it would be enough to make him sick.
Perhaps the dream that still remained so vivid in his mind was nothing more than a warning. Not a premonition in the sense of what was to come, but a call for Will to beware of what he expected.
What had he expected, really? Had he really thought that Mike had come all this way just for him? Had he thought Mike would stride in with his dashing armor and wisk Will off into the kingdom with him?
In some sense, this was all true. But Will knows it’s not in the way he had wished. As horrifying as that thought was to him, Will knew.
Mike came here for him. But it was because now, after five years of near silence, Will was finally useful in some way to Mike. The thought alone makes Will’s stomach turn like a water mill.
Perhaps El had been right to act hesitant towards Mike. Doubtful of his nobleness. The armor and flashy titles spoke nothing of the honesty that a Knight actually kept.
Will feels like a fool. A sick, feeble fool who was having a drunken cry upon the ground. How ridiculous.
The streets around him were entirely empty now, the only sounds being crickets and distant footsteps from the direction Will had come from. The only light was cast from the few street lanterns that still remained lit, and the moon up above. Autumn breathes down upon them, sucking up the last warmth from morning.
The footsteps are distant enough that Will pays it no mind, assuming it’s a straggler on their way home or taking a night stroll.
Will supposes, once he was able to stop the tears and appear at least mildly put together, he could return to his family’s shop and allow himself to sink into the comforts of his mother and siblings. Perhaps El would know a spell to stop the pain that plagued his head.
He spends what feels like ages wiping his eyes and massaging his temples. It was only a matter of time before somebody came around to shoo him off, calling him a drunkard.
The heavy pounding in his head conceals it at first, but eventually, the sound of clicking nails on the cobblestone catches up with him, and Will realizes they’ve grown closer. The nails are followed by quiet, uneven footfalls. Something was approaching him.
Will’s head shoots up despite how much he wishes to protest it, his eyes catching on a humanoid form in the distance. Something smaller walks beside them, trotting calmly.
They’re backlit by the busier part of towne, and it’s not until they are only a few steps away that Will can finally make out who it was.
“You gave your sister a real scare, y’know.”
Fiery red hair is the first thing to grab his attention as Maximus Mayfield comes into view, shining gold underneath the burning street lamps. Her guide dog, Wonder, stops just in front of her.
Wonder is much smaller than Chester, but they share the same wiry white hair. Wonder, unlike Chester, sits patiently beside his owner.
“How’d you know where I went?” Will asks, surprised by the relief that floods him upon seeing her.
“Wonder picked up the scent...” She reaches down to scratch Wonder’s head. The hound sniffs the palm of her hand and gives it a lick. “After we got to the tavern.”
The relief dries up almost instantly. Will scowls, dipping his head. She was only here to drag him back. Of course.
“I don’t wanna go back right now.” He mutters, shaking his head.
“Was that Mike?” Max ignores Will’s words, stepping around her dog and seating herself next to him. “I heard his voice.”
Like El, Max had never met Mike. She came along a year or so after he left, riding into town entirely on her own. Every story she held of Mike was entirely second hand, regaled from Dustin or Luc. Where Will had been much more reserved when it came to sharing their former friend, Luc and Dustin were unabashed about it. El had heard all of the same stories about Mike, of course. There was no reason to keep her in the dark, just as there was no reason to do so with Max.
But El also knew something that the others didn’t. She knew the true extent of how Mike’s departure had really affected Will. She had seen it.
“Yeah.” Will sighs. “That was Mike.”
Will has to wonder how much El had told Max about it. Had she told Max about how Will used to hide for days in his room, sleeping through the sunshine? Had she told Max about how Will was the first one to start visiting The Tavern regularly, asking Sir Clarke about any letters? Or, worst of all, had she already told Max about the painting?
“He seemed rather freaked out.” Max says, her voice gentle and bemused. “What did you do? Hex him?”
Will can’t help but laugh at the irony.
“No. I didn’t hex him.” He says. “I just needed to get out of there.”
Max hums sympathetically, crossing her arms over her knees. Wonder comes by to lay on her feet.
“I thought El was about to kill him when we got there and couldn’t find you.” She says after a moment of silence. “They were outside already, making some stupid plan to split up. Mike was leading the charge.”
There’s a pang in Will’s chest. He bites his lip so his brain will focus on a different pain.
“Sorry.” Will mumbles. “I didn’t mean to scare her.”
“You didn’t just scare her. They were all freaked out.” Max supplies, furrowing her brows. “They said you just took off…”
Max isn’t looking directly at him, her pale eyes gazing somewhere in the distance. But Will turns to face her, taking in her expression. There’s worry in her face. Concern.
“You take off all the time.” He says lightly, sniffling.
Max smiles.
“Yeah. But they know I’ll come back.” She says. Their shoulders bump together, and Will realizes he’s smiling too. “I’m the Thunderson’s stray cat. They feed me, then I leave for a bit. I come back, they give me a warm spot to sleep…”
She trails off, but Will gets the picture, nodding along. Max was antsy. Staying in one place too long had always seemed to make her skin crawl. They would go days without seeing her sometimes. But she always came back. She had a permanent room in The Thunderson’s cottage, even if it went unused most days.
“Well,” Will picks at the fraying piece of leather on his boot. “What if the stray doesn’t come back for a really long time? And you kinda…get mad that they only came back cause they wanted something.”
Max is quiet for a long time. Her hand idly plays with the fur on top of Wonder’s head. Wonder’s tail wags softly.
“I’ve only ever been the stray.” She finally says. Will’s shoulders sink, his smile fading.
“But-” She continued. “I come back for more than just food or a bed.”
Her hand searches for Will’s arm, and he lets her take it.
“Don’t make fun of me, Blackfire.” She warns. He laughs. “But I come back because I love you guys, too.”
Will can feel a layer of the pain lifted from his shoulders, like removing a heavy cloak. Max’s words don’t magically untwist the knife lodged in his throat, but he feels less burdened anyways.
“Love you, too.” He tells her.
She doesn’t have to convince him to go back. All Max does is stand up and call Wonder to her side, and Will is following her lead.
“Let’s hope El hasn’t torn them all limb from limb.”
Will wishes he still had the strength— or at least the energy— to protest against going back. But the pain in his temples and the sloshing in his stomach were begging him to give in. And Will knew that Max wasn’t going to leave him there, either.
His brain continues to sing songs of fear to him, stretching out its continuous tunes of spiraling worry. The guards. The gate. The traps. The dream. Will can only pray to any Gods above them that
Just as Max had told him, the rest of the group were gathered outside the tavern. El was the first to spot them.
“Gods— Will!” She breathes out, rushing forward to hug him. Her hands search his back and arms wildly, as if trying to find some unseen wound. “Are you okay?”
“M’Okay.” Will mumbles, patting her back gently. “You?”
“I’m okay.” She sighs, pulling away from him. Her hand remains on his shoulder, afraid to let him go just yet. “You need to stop running away from me!”
Will gives a half-hearted chuckle, hoping that his smile meets his eyes.
El looks to Max, reaching to graze her elbow gently and get her attention. “Thank you.” She tells her. Max just smiles.
Luc and Dustin say something to Will, insistent apologies and nervous smiles. Will takes them with grace, accepting their pats on the back and kind words. But Will’s focus wavers between their courtesies and the earth shattering silence from Mike.
When Will has heard his friend's apologies through, he braves the pull in his gut and finally allows himself to look at the unavoidable presence. There was still a flicker of anger that nipped at Will’s heels, begging to be prodded back to life. It would be a lie to say that Will didn’t want to let it remain, purely to solidify for himself that he was allowed this anger.
But the look in Mike’s eyes snuff any fire left lingering.
Mike's eyes are wide, shining in the torchlight blazing from the windows of the tavern. And if Will is not mistaken, he is sure he can see the shimmer of tears bridging his lower lashes.
Mike still does not speak, but it is only now that Will can see that he wishes to.
As Luc inevitably finds Max's side and Dustin busies himself with slinging his lute over his shoulders, Will feels as though he's being pulled back to Mike all over again. They fall into step like some old routine. Will wants to resent it.
Mike's relieved smile doesn't let him.
"Will-" He starts to say. Will’s throat tightens.
"You don't have to say anything." Will blathers, "I was being ridiculous."
Was it selfish to refuse an apology simply because he was worried it would make Mike stop looking at him like that?
"No!" Mike challenges, his eyebrows threading together. "No, not at all. I-"
He glances away for only a moment, collecting his thoughts. It’s just enough time to allow Will’s cheeks to flush with embarrassment.
"Can I walk you home? I'd like to talk about this… properly ."
Will is stunned into silence. Did he want that? Did he want Mike to walk him home? Will hadn’t even wanted to return to this very spot only minutes ago, angry and swimming in his self pity.
"Yes. Of course you can." Will says anyways. To Hell with what he had wanted minutes ago.
Dustin gives a round of farewells, passing out hugs to each of them as well as he can with his instrument on his back. He hugs Mike the longest, clapping his shoulder.
"It is so nice to have you back, Weststar. Even if it isn't for long."
Mike seems to appreciate this, his smile soft and somewhat bashful. He shies from the affection as if being cooed at by his mother. But the smile persists.
Luc gives him the same treatment, wrapping Mike up tightly. The sigh that Luc releases is somber.
"I'm going to walk Max and El home." He tells them as the hug breaks. "You best still be here in the morning, Mike. Or else you'll have an arrow in your back by sunset."
They share a laugh.
El gives Will's hand a squeeze before meeting Luc's side. There's a flicker of her magic that rushes through his palm, lighting it up with energy. He gives her a smile.
At last, only Max and Wonder stand before them. Wonder sniffs the air around Mike's feet.
"It was nice to meet you, uh-" Mike starts. Max looks at him, her face calm as still water.
"Max." She says. "I wouldn't really say that we met ."
"Yes I…I seem to struggle with introductions lately."
Will snorts. Mike nudges him. Max raises an eyebrow.
"Get him home safely, Sir Knight. Or you'll have a whole towne on your ass." Max remains calm and collected as usual, allowing Wonder to take the lead after Luc and El.
Max pulls the hood of her cloak above her head as she walks, her head dipping back over her shoulder only briefly. "Goodnight, Will!"
"Goodnight, Max." He calls back.
And then there were two.
The air between Will and Mike does not feel nearly as easy as it had that morning. It is tense, threaded with unspoken words and feelings that had come and gone too quickly. Will finds himself shifting uncomfortably on his feet as he waits for the silence to break, unsure of what to say next, or where to start.
This was undiscovered territory. Entirely forged by the events of the night. It felt terrifying. It felt different. It felt mature in some sense that Will was entirely unable to explain.
When Will finally looks at Mike again, he looks at the scar on his face. He still had not asked about it. None of them had, surely attempting to remain polite and working off assumption that it had happened in the kingdom. The skin was pink and puffed where it ran from his cheek to the bridge of his nose. Will could only guess it was from something terribly sharp.
He paints Mike in a rather gory scene. Ruby blood trickled from his face, falling into his mouth. A silver sword brandished in his hands, fighting some unseen foe. His scar tells a million stories, but the one that rings the loudest is the story of growing up.
“You look so different.” Will mumbles. Mike, unexpectedly, laughs.
“What?” Will asks incredulously. Mike shakes his head.
“I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
“It is. Change is good, I think.”
Will stares at him silently for a moment, searching his expression. Mike is smiling. His eyes are shining.
Terrifying. Undiscovered territory. New, but so very much the same.
Mike takes the lead towards the gates. Will wants to tease him about still remembering the way to the tower, but he’s more touched by the fact instead.
They’d made it out of the walls of the towne by the time either of them had said anything at all. Thankfully, The Hawksmen were far more willing to allow people to exit than enter, and they made it through the gates without much fuss.
"Should I be worried?" Mike says after a long while of silence. Will had been quietly watching a herd of wild horses in the distance when he spoke, surprised by the break in his thoughts.
"Huh?" He asks.
"Should I expect to be cursed if I don’t return you home by moonfall?" Mike says, turning to gauge Will’s reaction. Will gapes at him, scoffing.
Truthfully, Will thinks, yes. Mike should absolutely expect to have his entire bloodline cursed should Will turn up missing. El would be conducting the curse, and his mother and Jon would be aiding her in every step of it. But Will feels horrifically embarrassed to admit this, so he doesn’t.
“What exactly are you planning, Weststar?” Will teases instead. “Should I expect to find myself missing?”
"I would never, Blackfire. You’re precious cargo.” Mike teases back. Will’s smile falls. Mike stares ahead now, smiling to himself and no longer witnessing Will’s reaction to his words. There’s a lull in the conversation.
"Why? Because you need to take me to the kingdom?”
Will doesn’t expect it to come out as sharp and bitter as it does. He especially doesn’t expect Mike to stop in his tracks, turning to him entirely now.
When their footfalls come to a halt, Will suddenly realizes just how quiet it was out in the fields in comparison to the towne. There was no sound aside from the breeze near their ears and the distant chuffs of the wild horses. Will can hear Mike swallow.
" No. It’s because you're Will Blackfire. Everybody knows how precious you are."
He says it so seriously that Will would have thought Mike had just confessed his deepest secret to him.
"You think I'm precious?" Will repeats, his eyes the size of the moon. Mike nods.
The explosion of sudden laughter that escapes Will eats up any ounce of silence.
Mike throws his arms up, rolling his eyes as far as they can go. “Ugh!” He huffs. "Forget I said anything!"
"How can I?!" Will cries. "You think I'm precious."
Mike looks as though he’s resisting the urge to cover his face, looking at anything but his companion.
"Stop." He tries to demand, but it comes out pinched. He huffs a very weak attempt at trying to mask his own laughter.
“No-” Will gasps out. “No, I'm sorry. I’m sorry.” He manages the laughter down to soft giggles, covering his mouth as he attempts to start walking again. But Mike stops him.
“You know I mean that though, right?”
Will doesn’t expect the warm grip of Mike’s hand to meet his wrist, tugging him back to face him. Mike lets go the moment that Will is looking at him again, but Will’s hand feels like it’s buzzing with magic all over again.
"Look…Will.” Mike starts, his eyes shining again. “I never meant for everything to come out at once earlier."
Will just nods, his laughter now caught entirely in his throat. He swallows it down.
"I wanted to try and approach the topic more…sensitively. But I think I got so lost in all of the memories and catching up that I got…" Mike’s eyes flicker downwards for a moment as he continues. "Scared."
"I didn't just come here to fetch you, Will. And I apologize if I made it seem that way."
Will furrows his brow.
"You didn't…" He tries to say, knowing he’s only denying the truth. But Mike sees right through it.
"I feel as though you got the wrong idea. But I meant what I said, Will."
There’s a cool breeze that feels all too cold on Will’s ever-warming cheeks.
"Which part?" He mumbles, confused.
"That I'm glad you were the one to find me."
Mike’s cape snaps in the breeze. A stray curl whisps above his cheekbone.
"Because you needed me?" Will has to ask. Even if Mike has already denied those fears.
"Because I wanted you." Mike insists. Will thinks he’s stopped breathing. "I wanted to… see you."
"I-" Will blinks, and is surprised to find wistful tears brimming the corners of his eyes. "I wanted to see you too."
They’re close again. There’s nothing but the silence of night and the stars in the sky surrounding them. The last swarm of fireflies still lingering from Summer blinked in the distance. They glimmer to the very beat of Will’s heart in his chest.
"I trust you, Will. And whether you agree with me or not, I know you are powerful. And I know you can aid us. In whatever way possible. When they trusted me with this job, I knew you were who I was meant to seek."
Oh. Oh, right.
"Mike…" Will mumbles, "I'm sorry.”
Will is the first one to pull out of the gravity first.
“I want to." He rushes out as he sees the way Mike’s expression fades. "I do. But if I go out there and something goes wrong-"
"That won't happen."
"It could. And none of us can afford that." Will says, his voice firm. "You should take El."
"I don't know El." Mike argues. His nose scrunches the way it always had when he was frustrated. "I do not doubt her in the slightest. If she is loved by you, I know she is true of heart. But I don't know her. Not like I know you."
Will’s chest tightens with every shake of his head.
The image of his sister being sent away with Mike. Riding behind him on a steed, holding his waist and waving farewell. Maybe he’d kiss her hand again. Maybe he’d eventually get to know her. Perhaps even better than he knew Will.
"She can help you, Mike. If you trust me…you'll trust that I know my own strength. I know when to back down." His voice cracks. He wills it to steady.
"Will."
" Mike. " He begs. For the first time that day, Will watches Mike search his face, unsure of himself.
"...I trust you." He says after a long moment.
"I'm sorry." Will sniffles.
"Don't be." Oddly enough, Mike smiles. "Getting to see you was enough."
The final stretch of their walk is spent in silence. Will’s head hurt worse than it had an hour before.
"Goodnight, Will." Mike says when they reach the garden, bowing his head.
"Goodnight, Sir Mike." Will gives a smile despite the solemn turn of his voice.
Watching him go is the worst of it all. Will’s dream could have never given him enough of a warning for the pain that plagued his head and his chest.
The tower is silent when Will enters. There’s a dim glow of lantern light from the top of the stairs, signaling that his mother was home.
Will carries himself to the stone steps, compelled by the thought of his mothers warm hands and soft comforts. But as Will approaches, the growing light only adds to the pain forming at the front of his skull.
Will winces, squeezing his eyes tight and grappling for his head. The pounding grows louder. Drums, pounding and angry.
“Will? Is that you?” He makes out his mother’s voice through the sea of pressure.
Nobody responds to her words.
The last thing Will sees is the stone steps coming closer to him very suddenly.