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Ethari admired the way the bright moonlight surrounded Runaan's silhouette, like a halo surrounding an angel. Perhaps, it was the moon's way of thanking Runaan for all his years of service and bravery. Runaan's unbound hair looked like snow-white silk, an argent river running down the side of the bed. Ethari had brushed it with care until there were no tangles left. Until it shined like pure silver.
"Are you nervous, love?"
Slowly, Ethari moved closer to the edge of the bed, resting his head in Runaan's lap. His husband looked serious, unbreakable, but there where fine cracks in his shield. Ethari touched Runaan's arm with one finger, gently tracing the violet marks. Purple circles, an eclipse to symbolize their kingdom was always under threat. They were marks Runaan had worked hard for in order to earn, the proof he'd served Xadia and had been willing to pay for it's freedom and safety with his life.
But there had come an end to his success.
"Just braid my hair, Ethari..." Runaan whispered. "Braid my hair for one last time."
-
There had been little left of the strong radiance Ethari had always associated his husband with. He looked small and vulnerable, forced onto his knees in an uncomfortable position. His chest was bare, but he wouldn't shiver. There was a hint of sadness and anger visible in Runaan's glassy turquoise eyes, hidden behind his ever stoic expression. Ethari knew his husband well. There was no way he would cry or even properly tear up and subject himself into the public eye, as it would break his image, his precious reputation. Ethari doubted if anyone beside him would even notice Runaan's emotions, even now every single one of his marks had been removed on display.
Though Ethari was well aware age-old traditions would never be changed and the chance that an exception would be made was out of the question, this all felt horribly unfair to him. A wave of nausea came over him, settling inside of him and forming a pit in his stomach. Only days ago, his husband had lost his arm in a terrible way. Ethari had listened to Runaan's subdued cries of pain. He had watched how he grimaced against his will and clenched his teeth, to desperately try and hide this harrowing scene from his beloved husband. Even after returning from a mission, in his own home, Runaan kept his feelings for himself. Not to save his reputation, but to save his loved ones from having to suffer with him.
Recalling the moment still sent shivers up Ethari's spine. The arm, lifeless on the ground. Gone forever, a sacrifice for Xadia. His marks of strength had been replaced by a permanent mark of failure. Four beautiful, slim fingers that belonged to a hand Ethari would never be able to hold again.
No good deed goes unpunished.
Ethari swallowed hard, blinked his tears away and looked at the silver blade in front of Runaan. What would follow wouldn't physically hurt. Runaan would be okay and won't have to face any more torment, he told himself. The thought only reassured him to a certain extent, as he could read the hidden pain on his husband's face. A face that seemed to say, I'm sorry I have to do this to you my love. You shouldn't have to watch this. I'm sorry I failed.
The dagger was picked up from the stone path, the blade brightly shining in the light of the waxing moon, and was then pressed against the nape of Runaan's neck, underneath the base of his ponytail. Runaan bit his cheek and involuntarily pressed his eyebrows together in despair. His blue eyes met Ethari's in the crowd. Two amber coloured gemstones, glowing like cinders, warming up Runaan's heart. A feeling of comfort, calmness and home.
"After many years of great success, our moonshadow assassins have failed to protect Xadia from the dangers of humanity. To prevent this from happening once more, their leader Runaan has agreed to take the blame for this disaster."
Looking away from Ethari, Runaan nodded, glanzing down at his knees in shame. The cold blade of the dagger felt like ice against his skin.
His thoughts wandered off to Rayla. She'd made mistakes. Mistakes that could not be easily forgiven. He was upset with her, and he wouldn't deny it. But blaming her, a child on her very first mission, for the defeat their team had faced seemed unreasonable. He wouldn't let her go through punishment. To her, it would be worse than death. It wouldn't teach her to do better. It would frighten her, scar her and lower her position within the moonshadow society the same way as her biological parents'. For the name and future of his daughter Runaan was willing to sacrifice his own. A secret he would manage to keep from the world until he'd release his very last breath.
"This will happen according to the traditional procedure written down in our ancient manuscripts. Those who fail to defend the pride of Xadia shall pay with their own pride and glory. Considering the severity of the defeat, a fight against humans, the leader of the moonshadow assassins will have to pay with his rank within society."
Ethari shook his head, pressing his lips tightly together, tears stained in his eyes. Runaan had shown courage, he had been fearless and had been willing to accept his fate of death for his kingdom. Wasn't giving up his arm for Xadia enough already? A soft sob escaped his lips.
"Glacies pugione..."
A bright light appeared from behind Runaan's upper body. He whimpered underneath his breath as the dagger turned to ice. Ethari's eyes widened in shock. Runaan's pain threshold was high, but the dreadful coldness of the enchanted blade stung into his skin, biting into him like venomous fangs.
The elf with the dagger got a grip on Runaan's long, braided ponytail, and his head was jerked back with force. Ethari braced himself for what was to come. He softly whispered Runaan's name, too quietly for any of the other elves to hear him, but loud enough for his husband to be reminded of Ethari's presence. His love was there with him, even if the moon was not.
With a swift movement of the arm, the elf behind Runaan sliced through his thick hair. Runaan's head was painfully pulled, and the ends of the long white locks he had always treasured began to slide down his back. Runaan remained silent as he looked into the distance with a strong, stoic expression on his face, but his heart ached. Although he had been willing to make a sacrifice, he was filled with rage and grief. Only Ethari's loving hands had been allowed to touch his hair, to gently brush and braid it in the mornings. He would press kisses into it at night, twist it when he was feeling anxious. And only Ethari had been allowed to cut his hair.
In awe, Ethari watched how two more horrid movements were enough to sever Runaan's ponytail. This all wasn't fair. It just wasn't.
The ponytail was unceremoniously dropped onto the cold stone path, and the elf moved onto the two lengthy sections of hair that framed Runaan's face. Runaan let out another series of quiet whimpers as the ice cold blade touched his cheek and the tip of his sensitive right ear. He desperately held onto his clothes in order to find a way to distract himself from the aching feeling and shut his eyes when the dagger painfully cut through the hair, slicing it off in one go.
Ethari closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands, silently crying and sobbing. Watching his husband be tortured like this in front of his very eyes was one of the most gruesome things he had ever been through in his entire life. Ethari wanted to run up to Runaan, hold him close and try his best to fight off whoever tried to hurt his lover ever again. He wanted to take him home and give him the chance to properly eat and rest as he deserved to after a mission like this. But it was impossible.
Runaan released a deep breath and braced himself, fighting against the pain. It would be over soon. To draw his thoughts away from the unpleasant memories of previous torture sessions he'd been through, Runaan closed his eyes and tried to imagine the comfort of Ethari's strong arms around him. He thought of the way he'd hold onto him at night, the kisses he would place in his neck and the feeling of Ethari's soft bangs that brushed his nape as he did. His voice was warm like a summer breeze.
The sharp pain of the cold dagger against his jaw dreadfully reminded Runaan of the harsh reality he was currently stuck in. The blade was placed underneath the very last section of shoulder length hair on the left side of Runaan's head, and the knife promptly put an end to the event. The last locks were dropped on the path, and only seconds later, the dagger followed.
Runaan remained on his knees, feeling hurt and broken, trying to comprehend everything that had just taken place. Hesitantly, he reached out for his ponytail with his remaining arm. The small braid had been sliced through and had begun to unravel at the end, reminding Runaan of the rights and honor he had just lost. He held his hair close to his body and fought against a sudden wave of emotions he was not willing to show. He had just lost his rank, and with it, his crowning glory.
Ethari pushed the elves in front of him away, much more harshly than he would usually intend to. He collapsed onto his knees, wrapping both of his warm around Runaan's cold shoulders. Ethari rested his head on one of them and kissed Runaan's jaw, weeping.
With difficulty, Runaan fought against the tears that welled up in his ocean eyes. He reminded himself of the future, of his husband that would always be there and of Rayla's well-being. Putting his arm around Ethari's tremblings shoulders, Runaan looked up to the moon. It's light was vague, hidden behind the thick clouds. Unable to draw any power from the moonlight, Runaan was no longer capable of controlling his feelings. He buried his face in Ethari's neck and cried, remembering that even now the moon was not, Ethari's love would always be there. Right there, by his side.