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“I love you. I feel as though we were never strangers, you and I, not even for a moment.”
—Friedrich Nietzsche, from a letter to Mathilde Trampedach
The trip to Altabury Heights would span 9 days, although Neuras reassured them that they would take breaks at small islands along the way. Will pushed open the doors while stepping out from the pantry, carrying a small sack of orgo sugar and a jug of mellow milk in his arms. He was already planning to make some bread with Heismay later that evening, since the last batch he delivered to that “food connoisseur” in Martira had been so well-received. Will was just shoving the ingredients in a corner of his bed when he heard a pained groan from nearby.
Will poked his head out from the circular opening and looked around, but there was no one in sight. He was just climbing back down when he heard the noise again, coming from behind the drawn curtain of Strohl’s bed. The young noble and Will had grown close enough throughout their travels that Will didn’t even need to ask for permission before pulling apart the curtains and peering at Strohl’s pale expression.
“Are you alright?” Will asked.
“You having a laugh?” Strohl grumbled and pressed his lips together to keep back the fresh wave of nausea.
Will shook his head.
“…My apologies,” Strohl sighed, “the rough seas have soured my mood, and I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Can I come in?” Will asked, rather abruptly, causing Strohl’s head to jerk up in surprise. But Will’s question must have been rhetorical, since he was already climbing inside while Strohl was still stammering his reply. The beds in the gauntlet barely fit one person, so it was a bit of a squeeze for two. It felt like every part of their bodies were touching each other’s, and all of a sudden Strohl had something to distract him from his motion sickness.
“Is this okay?” Will asked. Strohl nodded, a bit too fast as he winced from dizziness. “Yes but…Are you not uncomfortable?” He asked. Will gave that smile of his that always caused Strohl’s heart to skip and matters only worsened when the boy rested his head on Strohl’s chest. Gods, his heartbeat was probably deafening against his ear.
“You know,” Strohl spoke up a bit more loudly than he intended, hoping to mask the sound of his heart with his voice, “I don’t believe I’ve ever told you the reason I hate traveling in these rickety things.” Will folded his hands on top Strohl’s chest and rested his chin on the back of his hands, listening with a glimmer of interest in his dual-colored eyes. Strohl stuttered on his words when he almost got lost in those eyes and cleared his throat. He had to glance away to find his words again,
“After we lost Halia to the human attack…I found no rest for months. My days were filled with being thrown behind one horse cart after another. It was cramp, and smelled rancid, and the roads were worse for wear. But more than any of those, it was being surrounded by so much fear and grief. I spent so much of that time comforting those around me and putting on a brave front…I don’t think I’ve ever given myself proper time to grieve: for my parents, my hometown—all those tears they deserved, I held them all in for the sake of appearing brave and my own stupid pride.” Strohl let out a bitter laugh, “I wanted to stick it up to those who abandoned us so badly, that I ran as far from the destruction as I could, without even turning back once. How much grief I must have caused my family, up till their dying breath.”
The soft palm on his cheek startled Strohl. He focused back on Will’s expression that was filled with compassion. “Do you want to cry now?” Will asked him.
Strohl gave a wry smile, “I’m no longer a mere child,” despite his words, the back of his eyes stung a bit. Hulkenberg always teased Strohl for being a crybaby, and even though she wasn’t there to witness it, Strohl still wanted to prove her wrong.
“Your thoughts don’t stand to reason,” Will said. Strohl blinked in surprise, “What do you mean?”
“You say that you grieved your parents and seem to believe that you’ve continued to bring shame to your bloodline, but from what I’ve heard and witnessed from you and the way you’ve been helping your people now, I don’t think that’s true,” Will pursed his lips out in contemplation, “Running away doesn’t make you any less brave. If anything, I believe your parents would be proud of you, for having the ability to build your people back up after such a tragedy.”
Strohl stared at him, speechless. The rushing of blood in his ears and the insistent ringing of the runner morphed into the clanging of bells and shouts above more shouts.
“STROHL!”
His father’s booming voice was like an earthquake through his nerves. Strohl was being lifted by his armpits into the carriage. There were bodies, so many of them, all pushing and squeezing to fit into the small horse-drawn cart. There were mothers holding their children that were crying into their bosom. The horses in the front stomped their hooves and blew air threw their nostrils in agitation.
Strohl saw his mother and father gazing at him with fear in their eyes. Something Strohl had never witnessed in his life. He had only ever witnessed their strong backs, their proud faces as they gazed up at the flag of Halia. But now that flag was burnt to the ground and stomped on by frantic feet trying to get away from the humans ravaging their land. It was seeing his parents truly scared for once in their life, that broke Strohl out of his shock. The wail that wrenched out from him was beastly. He scrambled forward and wrestled against the hands and legs trying to hold him back and cover his mouth, perhaps to keep from alerting the humans of their presence. But Strohl was ready to be pulverized, if it meant he could have a chance to be in his mother’s arms again.
“MOTHER!” He screamed and it felt like his insides were torn up. His parents whirled around at the sound of their child’s cries. Strohl fought and kicked against the crowd that was trying to hold him back until he got to the edge of the cart. The distance from the ground wasn’t small. Strohl threw himself off and his limbs and head throbbed in pain but even still, he pulled himself up and crawled towards his parents.
His mother scooped him up into her arms and Strohl cried and screamed while holding onto her hair forcefully, not wanting to be separated again. “My son, you must listen to me—listen!” Her firm voice caused Strohl to look at her while blinking past tears, “You will carry the legacy of our people wherever you go. Halia will never disappear as long as you exist.”
“You are our pride and joy,” his father spoke warmly, “and that is why you must do everything in your power to survive. Trust me, there is no land on this realm that you can run to where you could escape my arms.”
There was so many things Strohl wanted to say to them, but it all came out as nonsensical babbling as he was delivered back on top the horse cart and into the arms of his people.
“Now go, dearest Leon!” His mother carried a fierce look of pride on her face,
“RUN! GO!!”
The man driving the cart kicked off his horse and the vehicle started off along the bumpy ruins of Halia. Strohl screamed and cried despite choking on all the smoke and ash. The last thing he saw was his parents’ righteous silhouettes amongst the flames.
The silver-haired noble covered his arm over his eyes and whimpered, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, take all the time you need, I’ll be here,” Will reassured him. He shifted higher to cradle Strohl’s head in his arms and gently stroked his fingers through his hair. Mixed within the violent sounds of the gauntlet runner, Strohl sobbed loudly.
Perhaps a few minutes passed, or maybe an eternity. By the end, there was a pile of tissues along the edge of Strohl’s bed and the boy blew his nose into the nth one before crumbling it into a ball and tossing it to join the pile. “I apologize for such a pathetic display,” Strohl hung his head in shame. “It wasn’t,” Will disagreed. He turned towards the opening of the bed, “Let me go grab you something to drink.” But he was stopped by a hand around his wrist. Strohl pulled Will back inside before climbing on top of him and staring down with a fierce and passionate expression.
“The day after you saved me from that human, I made a personal oath that I would devote the rest of my life to you and to my people. I would never allow such a tragedy to occur to people that I loved ever again, and so—” his words screeched to a halt as his mind caught up to the fact that he used the L word.
“What I’m saying is—I mean—if you would be inclined—” All semblance of elegance left Strohl’s speech and he could feel his neck heating up as he tried to reel back in the confidence he was feeling just a moment ago.
“I’d be honored,” Will said with the softest smile that only he could pull off, “Even after our journey is over and we rescue the prince, I would like you to stay by my side.”
Strohl stared down at the person of his affection and felt a burning desire overtake him that he could think of little else. “Let us seal the oath,” he whispered while leaning down slowly. Will showed no resistance and instead closed his eyes. Their lips just brushed against each other when the gauntlet runner gave such a violent jolt it sent Strohl literally flying up. His head banged against the low ceiling and it sounded like a gong going off. “Son of a—” Strohl hissed in pain as he crumbled into a ball, like an insect sprayed with pesticide.
“Apologies folks, went over a bit of a bump!” Neuras’ voice came from the rusty speakers and Strohl would have gone to throttle him in the engine room if a laughing Will hadn’t stopped him. “Strohl,” Will said as his laughter died down. He pulled the other in by his heart-shaped necklace and kissed him.
All the frustration and embarrassment disappeared immediately from Strohl. He cupped Will’s face that was filled with rough edges and scars and kissed him back. Will’s teeth bit down on Strohl’s bottom lip and the elda pushed his tongue inside when Strohl’s mouth opened for him. They kissed until they were red in the face and even then, it wasn’t enough. Strohl pulled back to take in oxygen again but continued trailing his lips down to Will’s neck. “I want to leave marks but—” He murmured against the boy’s fair skin.
“Do it,” Will cut him off forcefully and pressed firmer against Strohl, “I want you to.” He let out a pleasant sigh when Strohl nuzzled his face deeper into the groove of his neck. Will gave him a few seconds before he was impatiently lifting the other’s face up to bring their lips together again. Strohl’s hands were trembling as he took Will’s, but with each firm squeeze from Will’s hand, the scared voices in his head quieted down until all that was left was the pleasant roar of the gauntlet runner’s heart.