Chapter Text
Astley was standing outside the door to the general’s meeting room, and for the first time in a while, he was excited. Years of training have come to this, he thought. For the past decade of his life, or even since that fateful day when he was fifteen that he got accepted into soldier training, he had been working hard, climbing the ranks so that he might reach this point. And now, here he was, standing just outside the meeting room. The general’s own meeting room. The room where it happens. (casually sneaks hamilton reference into a gay dnd ship story)
Some Lunar boy with sheep horns had come to him and told him that the generals wanted to promote him to fill the spot of top general, and he had escorted him here. Just then, that same boy poked his head through the door again. “They’re ready for you,” he said.
Astley stepped out into the room. There was a long table in the center of the room, with each of the generals having their own seat. The chairs, the table, and all the generals towered over Astley–downside to being only five and a half feet tall. It almost made Astley feel like some sort of child, walking into a room and having to look up at everyone. I am a grown adult, he thought to himself. Everyone in this room better not think otherwise.
He scanned the chairs lining the table, looking at all the generals. He saw two people that he remembered from soldier training. What are their names again? Arnold–wait, no, Aarlond–and Gavill, that one really nerdy kid. He kept looking along the two rows of chairs. Some of the people, he recognized faintly, and others, he had never seen before. It looked like there were 9 generals total. That sheep boy stood in the corner, and an older Lunar who looked like an advisor was seated on the left hand side of the seat at the front of the table, which is where Astley’s eyes fell on last.
There he was.
Bane. The God of Tyranny. Lord ruler over all of the slave lands. When Astley laid eyes on him, he felt a surge of anger rise within him, but he quickly masked his expression with a facade of calm. He had heard many stories about Bane growing up; his unsettling appearance, how he never smiled. This world that you’ve built has tried its hardest to shatter whatever aspiration I ever had, Astley thought as he looked at him. It’s about time that it was all brought down.
But not now. Astley walked over to take his seat, feeling Bane’s eyes on him the whole time. Once he sat down, Bane looked away. The chair was not at all the right size for Astley. His eyes were level with the edge of the table and his feet dangled, unable to find the floor. He saw Aarlond shoot him a funny look, and he shot a death glare right back.
As they sat through the meeting, Bane kept looking back at Astley. Astley didn’t always see it, but he could feel his eyes on him every time he looked at him.
After a while, the meeting ended, and Astley was shown to his new room. He wouldn’t be sleeping in the soldier barracks anymore, he would have a room all to himself! He didn’t think that was something he had ever gotten.
The bed, of course, was way too big for him (like usual), but he didn’t plan to rest tonight. He had work to do.
After that boy with the sheep horns left, Astley reached over to something that was sheathed at his waist. A gleaming, silver dagger. It was rumored to be the very same god-killing dagger that killed Aspra, the goddess of air.
Astley waited until it was deep into the night, then he slipped out of his room and into the dark hallway. He had a mission tonight, one he had been planning for weeks.
He was going to kill Bane.
It’s about time your tyrannical rule came to an end, Astley thought. What would he do once he had managed to kill the God of Tyranny? He imagined maybe taking his place, at the top of the monarchy. Overthrowing a god. . .going from a helpless small child on the street to supreme lord of all the slave lands...Take that, Mido.
He was hoping Bane wouldn’t put up much of a fight. If he could catch him off guard, in the middle of the night, when he was sleeping...plus, Bane would think any mortal couldn’t kill him. But little did he know that Astley had the knife.
He moved slowly with each step, not daring to make a sound as he made his way up the winding staircase. As he went, little thoughts began forming in the back of his mind. Is this really a good idea? Why did he keep looking at me? Does he suspect what I’m planning?
No. He told himself. There is no way he could know.
At last, he reached the final floor, where the tall black doors awaited. Alright, now to just–
Before he could even touch the handle, he heard something coming from inside. It sounded like…muffled screaming.
What’s going on? Did someone get here before me? Astley lowered his dagger and threw the doors open to see what was going on.
Bane was on the floor, biting his fist to keep from screaming too loud. He looked to be fighting off tears, but no one else was there. No one appeared to be attacking him. The only sources of light in the room were slivers of moonlight slipping through the curtains, and Bane’s golden chain necklace, which almost looked like it was glowing. Maybe just a trick of the light? Astley wondered.
Suddenly, Bane stopped mid-scream, the glow from the necklace fading. He stood up and cleared his throat as he tried to compose himself.
“Uh, what are you doing here?” Bane asked.
Astley felt unexpected heat rise to his face. Was it from the embarrassment of being caught? What was he even doing here? Right…killing him. Quick, think of something to say! Astley wasn’t really one to lie, but he just couldn’t straight up tell the God of Tyranny that he was plotting his assassination.
“Um, just thought I would check on you. Are you okay?” Astley immediately cringed. What kind of thing was that to ask a god?
But Bane simply ignored the question, a look of confusion and sadness and hope on his face. “You wanted to check on me?...No one ever does that…”
Astley felt his guard slip for a moment, and then he immediately wanted to slap himself for it. What am I doing!? Get it TOGETHER, he is a MONSTER!
“I heard screaming.” Astley replied, trying his best to appear calm, holding his hands behind his back. “Are you okay?”
Bane’s face rose into a smile. “I’m fi–”
Suddenly, he clapped a hand over his mouth and his expression changed to one of terror.
“What is it?” Astley tried to ask, but then Bane’s necklace started to glow again and he let out a scream of agony. He started clawing at the scars covering his arms, doubling over in pain.
Astley was unsure what was going on, or what he should do. He was shocked, confused, and–though he knew he shouldn’t be–concerned.
“What is going on?! Are you okay?” He grabbed Bane’s shoulders and shook him. “Talk to me!”
“It’s NOTHING,” Bane said through gritted teeth, pushing his hands away. Which Astley was mildly grateful for ( Touching a god? What was I thinking??? )
“Just leave me alone…” Bane added, scooting over into the corner of the room and curling into a ball like a child.
Astley’s brain was screaming, Don’t leave! Kill him now, while he’s weak and vulnerable! But Astley surprisingly just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Bane just seemed so…innocent and harmless. He decided the best course of action was to leave.
He backed up towards the door, but he couldn't help but stare at Bane curled up in the corner until he reached the door. As he turned to open it, he heard Bane softly mumble. “Thanks for checking on me…”
For a moment, Astley was a little too stunned to speak, until he just said the only thing he could.
“You’re welcome.”
He walked out and shut the door behind him. Once it was closed, he cursed to himself. “ What in the Underworld was that?! ” He whisper-yelled to himself. “ What was I doing, what was HE doing, what– wha…”
Astley couldn’t process his thoughts or emotions right now, and he doubted he’d be able to go to sleep either. So he decided he’d just go outside and get in some early practice or something. Maybe this is all just some sort of weird dream… he thought, rubbing his temples. I can’t tell what’s going on– aargh, I HATE that!
Stop thinking about this right now, he thought to himself. Let’s just…try to forget that whole exchange…
♦ ♦ ♦
Over the next week or so Astley let the incident slip from his mind as he got accustomed to his new duties as top general. They were generally the same as they had been when he was a lower-ranking slave master, except for the fact that he now had a specially chosen team of all of the best workers that he could work personally to train.
He figured out the routine and soon it was like a second nature to him. But every once in a while he would pass Bane in the hallways, and he’d always feel unexpected heat rise to his face as he remembered that first fateful night. He would always keep his head low and quickly walk away until Bane was out of sight. These strange feelings of embarrassment were something that he was not used to, and he didn’t want to have to feel them any longer that he had to. Whenever he saw Bane he always felt inclined to look at him a little more closely, while at the same time not wanting to look at all. It was very confusing.
Every evening Astley would spot the knife that he had set down next to the rest of his gear, and he would try to will himself to pick it back up again and finish the job, but the whole thing just felt…wrong. Bane doesn’t really seem to be the tyrant that I thought he was… he thought.
Are you kidding me? His mind shot back. He’s the literal God of Tyranny! It’s probably just some kind of act!
But every time he argued with himself over it, his mind would always come back to what Bane had said. “You wanted to check on me?...No one ever does that…” Bane was definitely in some kind of pain that night and there’s no way that he could have been faking it. Why would he put up such an act if he had no way of knowing that Astley was even coming? He couldn’t’ve heard him, Astley made sure of it. Plus, he had just seemed so– so—
Innocent? Astley shoved the word into the thought, though it didn’t fit quite right. Overall, having to look at that knife every night and be reminded of everything would probably just make him frustrated, so he put it away to where he couldn’t see it anymore. I’m already the top general, he said to himself. I don’t need to be lord of Nightfall Tower. It’d probably be stressful anyway. Though in the back of his mind there was another reason for him putting away the knife that he just couldn’t seem to grasp…
One day Astley was walking through the halls between his work hours and his break. Bane just so happened to be walking the same direction, and before he knew it, they were walking alongside each other.
“Uhm…” Bane cleared his throat. “Hello, er, General Astley.”
“Hello, Lord Bane.” Astley tried to avoid making direct eye contact with him. Please don’t mention that night, he silently begged. Please just don’t.
Fortunately, Bane didn’t say anything else, although it started to feel less fortunate when Astley had to sit in the uncomfortable silence between them. He decided to try and strike up a casual conversation so that it would feel less awkward.
“So, I’m curious, what do you even do as lord of Nightfall Tower?”
Bane glanced at Astley, but promptly looked away. “Well, I overlook all the work that's done over the slave lands, and…I guess my advisor takes care of most of the stuff for me, so I spend a lot of time in my room.”
“Oh,” Astley said, nodding his head.
“Are you, uh, liking your new position as top general?”
“...Yeah, I’ve gotten used to the new routines and all that. It’s not much different from my old job, actually.”
A moment of silence hung in the air, and a thought arose in Astley’s mind. “Well,” he started. “Why don’t you just say it? You’re surprised about—” he lifted a hand over his head “—you know.”
Bane’s eyes widened, and he looked almost–flustered? “I—no, no, no. That— that wasn’t even the first thing I noticed about you.”
Astley narrowed his eyes. “What was the first thing you noticed about me?”
“Well, um, it's the, uh, your horns…they sort of look like those things you put in sandwiches—what are they called again—toothpicks?”
Astley raised his eyebrows. He felt like that under different circumstances he would be offended at someone for making such a comment about his horns but…
Astley burst out laughing. “They really do!” he exclaimed. “That never even occurred to me!”
He looked at Bane as his laughter faded. He kept a straight face, but Astley could see brightness in his eyes.
“I’ve never heard you laugh before…” Bane said quietly.
“I guess… no one’s ever really made me laugh before.”
They stood there for a moment, until Astley realized he was still staring at Bane’s face. He quickly averted his gaze, feeling that strange heat rise to his face again. “I–well–um–I…have to get back to work.” he stammered out, and he rushed off before Bane could say another word.