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Eira doesn’t know what to think anymore. What to do.
Arthyr had told him that it was for his own good. That Eira desperately needed to get away from the kingdom and find places that would accept him for who he was but… well, honestly Eira just didn’t see how that mattered. He was fine with how his life was now. He spent everyday with his best friend, protecting with a sword like a proper guard and doing his job. Eira had been given everything he could possibly think to want and he just didn’t understand why Arthyr was suddenly so insistent that he left with the blond kid and his group of friends.
He couldn’t go against Arthyr though, both because he was the crown prince and because Eira had just never been able to say no to his best friend. His life’s purpose was to serve and protect Arthyr, or- at least, he thought it was. Everytime he had said that the prince had gotten a strangely sad look on his face and now that he was leaving… Eira just didn’t know anymore. It felt like the rug had been pulled out from under him, his whole life changing in a single day.
They were about an hour away from the kingdom now, tents propped up as they camped for the night. Used to staying up to guard (and mind racing with no sign of stopping) Eira hadn’t been able to sleep and so he’d decided to sit in the grass outside and stare up at the sky, tracing constellations with his eyes. A cigarette sat heavy between his lips, pressing smoke into his lungs that usually calmed him but now just left him feeling even more heavy.
Eira had never left the kingdom before and now that he had all he wanted to do was go back. What if something happened to Arthyr while he was gone? How would the guard function without him? He couldn’t go back though, not yet. Probably not for a long time.
“Smoking is bad for you, you know.”
Startling, Eira glanced behind him to see the fire-guy. What was his name? Flicker? Something stupid like that. The guy had his arms crossed, dark eyes trained in on Eira in a way that made his stomach twist. Eyes falling down, he couldn’t help but notice that the other wasn’t wearing a shirt, tan skin and muscles lined with scars and the occasional freckle. When he realized where he was looking Eira felt his cheeks warm, scoffing and hurriedly glancing away. “I didn’t ask.”
“I know.” There was the sound of crunching grass and then the fighter was sitting down beside him. “What are you doing out here? Aren’t you cold?”
“Aren’t you?” Eira retorted, refusing to give such a stupid question a response.
The other snorted, “fair enough. Seriously though, what are you doing?”
“Thinking. You should try it some time.”
Fire-guy let out a huff and then the two of them fell into silence. Eira wasn’t feeling great but… well, he might have felt slightly better now that he wasn’t alone. It was ridiculous but he appreciated the company, if not just to remind him that despite his feelings about the trip the people he’d gotten stuck with could have been worse. Who knows? Maybe Arthyr had been right. Maybe in the end this would be good for him.
Eira doubted it though.