Chapter Text
It has been a week since the battle at the Storm Spire. King Ezran has been recrowned as King and has immediately set to undoing and fixing, to the best of his ability, the mistakes that Viren has committed in his short time span as King. Thankfully they weren’t too many since he had been focused solely on war with Xadia. Unfortunately, the few problems that did exist were monumental.
When he had marched East, he took the entire military with him. Including palace guards and soldiers who’s jobs had been to man and protect the borders. And while many soldiers had deserted due to Ezran’s final decree, it was nowhere near enough to refill all of those now empty stations. Much less even think about the possibility of creating new bases and fortresses along the Katolean border shared with Del Bar.
“Del Bar is currently engaged in a civil war amongst King Florian’s children. They are too busy fighting each other to bother with us.” Opeli states.
“They’re fighting? With what soldiers?”
“Yeah, didn’t you say that all the Del Barian soldiers marched with Viren?”
“Yes, all the Del Barian soldiers did march with Viren and met the same fate as the rest of Viren’s army. However, that doesn’t mean that the mountain tribes’ warriors had left with them. Remember, Del Bar is not quite as unified as a kingdom like Neoladia or Katolis. They were under no obligation to obey King Florian or any other monarch who happens to crown themself. Many of the tribes and clans have either given their support to an heir of their choosing or have decided to try to claim the throne themselves.”
“What about when the civil war is over?” Ezran piped up.
“The monarch would have their hands full trying to make the numerous tribes accept them as ruler, the food shortage, finding a way to replenish their rather nonexistent military, and who knows what other internal troubles. Del Bar is no threat to us, Your Majesty.”
The subject then turned to Neolandia and that’s when Soren finally decided to fully shut them out, his eyes focused on a spot on the far wall.
He didn’t want to talk or even think about Neolandia. It hurt too much. A lot of things nowadays hurt too much to talk or think about. Like the fact that Ezran’s feet can’t touch the ground when he sits on the throne. Or the fact that he hasn’t seen Callum open his sketchbook ever since they returned to Katolis. Or the fact that everytime he goes to his room, he has to pass her room. Her room that was now empty and cold-
‘No. We’re not going there. Everything’s fine. The battle is won. Everything is back to normal now.’ He quickly stopped that dangerous train of thought, doing a few breathing exercises before going back to staring at the wall. Mind wiped clean and empty, body as straight as any proper Crownguard.
He was fine. The Captain of the Crownguard was the ever present rock of his king. Always ready. Never weak. No hesitation.
It has been three weeks since the battle at the Storm Spire. Life has returned to normal as best as it could. Peace between Xadia, Duren and Katolis was slowly being established, though many were still skeptical and on edge.
Soren doesn’t really care about any of that. If it happens, it happens. If not, oh well.
He personally has been completely focused on keeping a strict schedule and training regimen. Every morning before dawn, he gets up and does his morning workout, only eating a few slices of bread to have energy to burn off. It’s one of the few things he could stomach anymore.
Then he returns and dresses for duty, looking in the mirror just enough to strap on all his armor and semi brush his hair. He makes sure to never look at his eyes or the shadows deepening under them. Or how sunken in his cheeks were now. It was fine. The mirror was just dirty. He’ll have to clean it later.
He then makes his way to King Ezran’s chambers and stands guard at the doors. During this time, all his senses were as hyper aware as they could go, ears pricked for even the most subtle of noises. Any rustle of fabric, drip of water, or whistle of wind was heard and closely watched by him. The Captain of the Crownguard was the ever present rock of his king. Always ready. Never weak. No hesitation.
No failure.
When the young king finally wakes up and walks out of his chambers, he always greets Soren with a bright grin and a happy “Good Morning, Soren!”.
And Soren always returned the greeting, giving the kid a small smile of his own. It was nowhere even close to resembling the wide cocky grin he used to have, but it was the best he could do right now. Even if this one was false.
“Another busy day, Your Majesty?” He would say, the words leaving his mouth automatically.
“Like every other day. I don’t even get the weekends off anymore!” The boy king would sigh dramatically, the glow toad being carried in his arm grunting in agreement.
“Well that sucks.” Would be the only response his mind had the energy to think of.
“I knoooooow. Being a king is so boooooring. You’re always busy and have no time for any fun unless you sneak off. But Opeli said that if I sneak off again, she’ll tell Barius to stop making jelly tarts for a week. The world is so cruuuueeel.” Ezran groaned so dramatically, flopping all over the place. Soren knew he was doing it on purpose, to try to get a smile or a laugh out of him. He had caught him one time glancing up at him during one of his dramatic spells. As much as Soren wanted to try, just for Ezran at least, he knew that it wouldn’t come out right. So he always settles for a small smile, which satisfies Ezran. For a while.
They arrive at the Great Hall where the king, Callum and Rayla eat breakfast together while Soren stands guard. They have since learned not to ask him to eat with them. That doesn’t stop them from trying in roundabout ways.
“Did you guys hear that Barius is adding new flavors for jelly tarts?” Callum asks in a very exaggerated manner, nudging Rayla when she gave him a confused look before it shifted into one of realization.
“Oh, uh, yeah! I’ve heard that from…around.”
You’d think that an assassin would be a better liar.
“Really?! Do you think there might be a Moonberry Surprise flavored jelly tart?!”
It’s a lot harder to tell if Ezran is acting or actually excited. Could be both.
“Doubt it. But I hope there could be Fire Orange flavored jelly tarts.”
“Fire Oranges?”
“They’re this round orange colored fruit that are really spicy. They make it feel like your tongue is burning.”
As the three are distracted from their attempt of trying to make Soren eat with them by stories about Xadia, Soren tuned them all out, letting his mind go silent as he fades into the background, body focused on guarding the king.
When breakfast is done with, Soren accompanies Ezran to the Throne Room where he meets with petitioners, the Crownguard taking his place on the king’s left, a hand always on the hilt of his sword. Even if the thought of using it on a living being made his hands shake now.
Just from the early morning cold.
This was usually the longest duty of the day. At least according to Ezran. To Soren, it passed in a blink of an eye. All he has to do is arrange his body like a statue and turn his mind off while his eyes and ears are pricked for anything not normal.
When that was done, Ezran usually had meetings to attend with the Council. These things were so boring that the comforting silence of his head was more entertaining than listening to the advisors argue for hours. It wasn’t as fun to watch anymore without Opeli arguing with his-
‘Nobody important. Opeli argues with everyone.’ Soren quickly cut off that forbidden train of thought before it got too far, slamming the door on that topic.
When the meetings finally end, Soren walks the king to the Great Hall for dinner, where the trio once again try to convince him to eat with them.
“I already got dinner in my room.” He lies, swallowing down the guilt at lying to his friends. But he didn’t know how to tell them that he can’t bear to eat most food nowadays. Especially meat.
He can tell by the way they all glance at each other that none of them believe him, but are willing to let him go. Nothing they can really do about it anyways. He was still alive, still perfectly capable of protecting Ezran, and that’s all that mattered.
Always ready, never weak.
He then escorts Ezran back to his chambers and bids him good night, a new Crownguard taking up night duty. Against Soren’s will. If he had his way, he would guard Ezran day and night, straight. Unfortunately, Ezran forbade the guards, Crown and otherwise, from taking 24 hour shifts. So Soren has to put his trust and the life of his king in his comrades’ hands.
“Good night, Soren! Hope you sleep well.”
Soren can tell by the look the boy gave him that he meant that as more than just a farewell.
“Good night, Your Majesty. I will see you in the morning.” He would always answer and would return to his room, never looking at the two bedroom doors he has to pass. Doors who’s keys he has sitting on a shelf in his room. He’s just holding them. He doesn’t want people snooping through those rooms.
Soren frees himself from his armor, dropping the pieces onto the floor in an unusually messy manner. He’ll deal with it later.
He skips eating dinner, not feeling hungry. Hasn’t felt hungry in a while. Not that there was much he could handle eating anyways. Bread and water were reserved for breakfast. Maybe an apple for lunch, sometimes. He used to slice his apples and eat them off a knife. Now…Now, the sight of a knife stabbing or slicing through something and the feel of liquid dripping on his hands make him feel…unwell. The last time he tried that, he found himself curled on the floor, the knife across the room.
Then it was time for bed.
Sleeping.
Sleeping.
Which meant dreaming. Nightmares.
Soren is embarrassed to admit that he was afraid of sleeping. It sounds so stupid, being afraid of sleeping. And sometimes, he tries to push through the fear and sleep. And everytime, he is reminded why he’s afraid of it.
Sleep meant nightmares. Nightmares meant visions. Memories. Memories that he didn’t want to remember. Things he didn’t want to see.
His da-Someone in white falling off a cliff, shattering to pieces on the ground.
His sword, pushing through someone’s chest, blood splattering across his face, making him gag. Gray eyes wide in shock as he pulled it out. Then green eyes, filled with tears and hatred.
Sometimes, his nightmares give him warped memories. Instead of him stabbing his fath-someone, something holds him in place and he’s forced to watch as they bring the staff down on Ezran. Those are the worst. He always wakes up with the sound of Ezran’s scream ringing in his ears and his own echoing around his room.
Occasionally, he has nightmares where he doesn't escape from the army. He refuses the so-called gift and is held down and forced to take it. Forced to be turned into a monster. Screaming as liquid fire burns through his veins, burning his body from the inside out. He could feel his skin cracking apart, his bones breaking, moving to different areas in his body and reshaping. He could feel his mind being burnt to ashes, losing himself and having his body being chained to his will.
Waking up from that particular dream was both relieving and sickening. He always needed to spend at least an hour in the bathroom throwing up, body shuddering, hyper aware of his bones under his skin.
Those were the Bad nights.
The good nights were rare. Those were the nights he didn’t dream at all. Just floating in the darkness. It was…soothing.
Until the whispers start.
Oddly enough, he doesn’t mind them. They weren’t threatening or loud. It was just a background buzz. If he concentrates hard enough, he can just barely make out words. He tries to hear what they are saying but it’s always out of his reach. Just beyond his hearing range.
Soren doesn’t want to sleep. But he knows he has to tonight. He skipped through the past two nights and can already feel the effects in his body, especially his hands. The shakiness has gotten worse and has spread to the rest of his arms. He can feel the aches in his legs and tell that his vision was not completely in focus. He was going to have to risk the nightmares tonight.
“Hopefully tonight is a good night.”
It wasn’t. But that doesn’t surprise him anymore. It didn’t matter. The shakiness has retreated down to his hands and his vision is better. Which meant he could be in top form for Ezran today. That’s all that mattered.
He was fine. The Captain of the Crownguard was the ever present rock of his king. Always ready. Never weak. No hesitation.
Morning workout, skipping breakfast. He doesn’t think he can handle bread today after last night.
Return, get dressed, doesn’t bother with hair. It looked fine anyways.
Escorts the king to breakfast, gives the same responses and refusal to eat as always.
Stands guard as petitioners bring their problems to Ezran to fix.
Escorts the king to yet another council meeting.
Take the king to the Great Hall for dinner. Another lie rolls off his tongue. He doesn’t even have to think about it anymore.
Then escort Ezran back to his chambers and bid him good night. Swap out with the guards and return to his own rooms. Ignore the two locked doors. Skip dinner.
Skips sleeping and decides to spend the night polishing and cleaning his armor and weapons.
He was fine. The Captain of the Crownguard was the ever present rock of his king. Always ready. Never weak. No hesitation.
Morning workout, eat some bread.
Get dressed
Escort the king
Stand guard
Escort the king
Stand guard
Escort the king
Stand guard
Escort the king, swap stations
Return to room. Don’t look at the doors.
Skip dinner
Skip sleeping.
Sit down and sharpen sword
He was fine. The Captain of the Crownguard was the ever present rock of his king. Always ready. Never weak. No hesitation.
Morning workout, eat some bread.
Get dressed
Escort the king
Stand guard
Escort the king
Stand guard
Escort the king
Stand guard
Escort the king, swap stations
Return to room. Don’t look at the doors.
Skip dinner
Skip sleeping.
Sit down and sharpen…something.
Morning workout, skip breakfast.
Get dressed
Escort the king
Stand guard
Escort the king
Stand guard
Escort the king
Stand guard
Escort the king, swap stations
Return to room. Don’t look at the doors.
Skip dinner
Skip sleeping.
Sit down and…and…
Morning workout, eat some bread.
Soren doesn’t notice that he ate the last piece of bread.
Get dressed
Soren doesn’t notice that the bags under his eyes were colored a light blue. Almost like bruises. He didn't notice that the light in his eyes was gone, replaced by shadows. He doesn’t notice that despite working out, he has lost a lot of muscle mass. He doesn’t notice the hunger.
Escort the king.
Soren doesn’t notice that he doesn’t speak anymore, even when asked by Ezran. He only nods and shakes his head when spoken to.
Stand guard
Soren doesn’t notice the worried and frightened glances the trio give him.
Escort the king
Stand guard
Soren doesn’t notice that his death-like appearance frightens some of the petitioners. He doesn’t notice that Corvus spends more time watching him than the petitioners.
Escort the king
Stand guard
Soren doesn’t notice the worried looks everyone shoots at him, not even bothering with subtlety.
Escort the king, swap stations
Soren doesn’t notice that Ezran doesn’t say “hope you sleep well.” anymore. He now tells him to “get some rest.”. Soren doesn’t notice that he only nods now.
Return to room. Don’t look at the doors.
Skip dinner
Soren doesn’t notice that even if he wanted dinner, there was no more food left to eat.
Skip sleeping.
Sit down and…and…
Sit down and…
What was he doing?
Morning workout, skip breakfast.
Get dressed
Escort the king
Stand guard
Escort the king
Stand guard
Ignore the dark spots appearing in his vision. Ignore the fact that sensation was fading from his fingertips. Ignore the fact that he can’t feel his legs anymore. Ignore the fact that his body was beginning to sway.
His chest hurts. Why does his chest hurt? Ignore it. He was fine. The Captain of the Crownguard was the ever present rock of his king. Always ready. Never weak. No hesitation.
But his body felt weak.
It was hard to breathe.
The dark spots were getting bigger.
The dark spots
The dark spots
The dark-
The dark-