Chapter Text
The moon shines high in the sky, the glowing light shining through the leaves of a cherry tree. A man in wedding attire walks up to it, the moonlight making his expensive bright blue and white clothes gleam, gems and the jewelry given to him glittering as he moves. He’s humming to himself, bright cornflower blue eyes admiring his surroundings. His bright brown hair looks almost black in the night. The man leans on the tree, smiling to himself as he waits for someone.
After around an hour, the man spots his groom, and smiles brightly at him. “Thought you stood me up my Lord.”
The new man, with short, slicked back, black hair, just looks at the happy man, face cold, expressionless. The Lord is in black clothes, more fit for a funeral than a secret wedding. “You won’t have to worry about that for much longer. You won’t be stood up anymore. You won’t have to wait for anything anymore.”
The groom looks at the Lord, confused. “What? What do you mean? I won’t have to wait for anything anymore? What does that even mean?” Confusion is all over his face, eyes bright and wide.
“Julian, I am afraid that you aren’t going to survive this night.”
“What?” Julian looks at the suddenly revealed knife, being pulled from the Lord’s jacket. He steps back a bit. “Wait, no, you don’t have to do this! Pleas- ah!” The Lord approaches him, knife shining maliciously in the moonlight, walking to the fallen man, having tripped over the roots of the cherry tree.
“Julian, why do you think I asked you to meet me here? Everyone will think you ran away from the wedding, leaving me at the altar.” The Lord puts a cruel boot on Julian’s chest, pushing him down with his full weight before stepping on his chest fully. Julian is laying there, having a hard time breathing from the 200 pounds of weight on his chest. “I intend to enjoy this.”
In horror, Julian watches as the Lord lifts his heel, somehow balancing on one foot on a rapidly moving chest, and slams it down. A loud CRACK is heard, Julian screaming in pain as a rib is broken by the man who claimed to love him. But then everyone he’s ever met in the royal court has abused him, some in more… despicable ways. He should’ve expected this…
A heel comes down again, making Julian scream, another CRACK sounding out. Julian is shaking, crying, trying to reach up to grab his leg to stop him. The Lord dodges the hands and slams his heel into his collarbone, breaking it harshly. Julian screams and tries to arch, but the weight on him keeps him down.
Ignoring the pain, Julian pushes the Lord’s heel away from him, catching him off balance, making the Lord fall. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Julian backs away and staggers up, whimpering in pain, holding his hand to his broken collarbone. Julian starts to run, blinded by tears, into the forest, trying to hide. His dress shirt has dirt covered boot marks, his back dirtied with mud and decaying leaves.
“JULIAN!” Julian tenses and covers his mouth when that tensing makes his shoulder and ribs scream in pain. “JULIAN. WHERE ARE YOU?” Jaskier is trying to be silent, careful not to step on branches.
“JULIAN. THERE YOU ARE!” Julian looks over his shoulder and sees the Lord looking at him, holding his knife in a death grip, starting to chase him. Julian screams and starts to run, uncaring if he breaks branches.
Julian yells in pain when the Lord grabs his hair and yanks him back, pinning him to a tree. “Okay sweetheart, that’s enough… running!” The Lord stabs Julian in the chest and rips it up, the knife nicking his broken collarbone, making Julian screech and cry in pain, sobbing. The Lord looks at the blood on his knife and looks at the blood pouring from Julian’s wound, smiling. “You wanna know something? Your blood looks black in the moonlight, just like the others.”
Julian is crying, tears spilling over, running down his cheeks. Julian yowls as the knife is stabbed into his side and twisted. “Such pretty sounds. Too bad your family arranged your marriage to me. Poor little Viscount of Lettenhove. Poor little Pankratz.”
Julian is already getting woozy from blood loss, ignoring what the Lord is saying. Black dots dance over his vision, a cold feeling sinking into his bones. This isn’t too bad… Almost a relief… everyone did hate me… even my own family…
Julian slumps over on the Lord, watching the Lord lay him down. “Now… I have to bury you. I would’ve done it over by the cherry tree but you decided to run. You did this to yourself Julian. You could’ve stayed home, not come to see me before the wedding. But then you were always so naive. So trusting. Goodnight Julian. You will most likely go on to better pastures, have a better experience with the dead.”
Julian’s breathing is becoming slow, sluggish, his skin becoming pale, ghostly. He can faintly feel a hand running through his hair, brushing it out of his face. His eyes roll back, everything going black.