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“I just want my mom, please,” he begs.
The official sniffs, looking over Ezra’s head to a soldier. “He’s a faerie. Take him to the dungeons, he’ll be executed tomorrow.”
“No. No!” he screams, thrashing against the bruising grip of the soldier as the man takes his arm. “I’m not a faerie! I’m not a faerie!”
“Quiet!” the man shouts, slapping him. Ezra’s screams devolve into whimpers as the ‘trooper drags him into the yawning mouth of the dungeons, ignorant of the very apparent growling noises coming from deeper within the corridor.
“—ke up, you’re okay.”
Ezra sits bolt upright, breath coming hard and fast as he glances around wildly. When his gaze settles on a now-frozen Eli he stills, though moves slightly away from the man.
“You awake?”
“Yeah. Isn’t that obvious?” Ezra snaps, embarrassed Eli saw him scared from a simple dream.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was up to get a drink and heard you yelling in your sleep. I came in and you were crying.”
Ezra scrubs furiously at his face, anger multiplied when he realizes that he does, in fact, have the faint remnants of tears. “I’m fine,” he mutters brusquely. “Just leave me alone.”
“Ezra, it’s okay if—“
“Leave me alone!” he yells again. Eli nods and stands, raising his hands defensively.
“I’m going. Don’t worry, I’m going.”
He leaves with Ezra glaring hatefully after him, scrubbing at his eyes quickly again. He’s not scared. He just misses his mom. And wishes he didn’t have these kriffing stupid powers. That’s all.
Whatever’s wrong, it’s not him being scared. Of course not. Ezra doesn’t get scared.
But there’s no ignoring the tears still falling from his eyes even as he tries his hardest to get rid of them.