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It was dark out and the moon was still nigh, casting its pale light across the room, only occasionally dimmed by a passing cloud. In the room lay two boys, one of them fast asleep, the other as still and as beautiful as marble, but very awake.
It was a cold night, and the window was still open, so it was no great surprise when a gust of wind invaded their room. The sleeping boy shivered ever so slightly, and the second boy rose slowly as not to disturb him. His blond hair fell messily across his forehead as he sat upright, the result of sleep spoilt by dreams.
The blonde boy, James, as he was named in his second life, adjusted the blanket to cover the boy next to him a little better. Will was his name.
James sat still for a while with that flawless steward posture he had never managed to get rid of. He was thinking about the dream he had.
No, not a dream, a memory, a strange one at that.
That was saying something, considering how strange his mind was to begin with, constantly stuck between the past and present.
No matter how much he ran, Anharion had always followed him wherever he went, whispering in his ear. He could close his eyes and see the betrayer clearly, a face identical to his own, the only difference being the long, steward hair James had promised himself he would never grow.
That and, of course, the collar, or sometimes a slit throat, adorning his neck either in rubies or blood. Not that there was much of a difference, both his death and his life were controlled by one man.
He could still hear the faint echoes of the dark king's voice, Sarcean. His name before the title was all anyone referred to him by. Both names carried the same malice, simply in different forms.
The dark king was the one who commanded him to charge at the stewards; he was the one whose eyes turned pitch black as Anharion stood guard. The one who broke Anharion’s spirit and memory until he only knew himself as the betrayer.
Sarcean was the one who kept him chained and kissed his lips at night, unbearably gentle and sadistically cruel all at once, until the sun rose again. He was the one who bandaged and sealed all the wounds from the battles the dark king forced upon him.
That was until, of course, the cracks the dark king had made were too large even for Sarcean to fix.
James touched his bare throat, a small comfort. Even if, a part of him couldn’t deny that he felt incomplete without the gold of the collar adorning him. The pull of the collar was unbearable, so he did his best to think of other things.
He turned his head to look at Will, who was still fast asleep. Will always slept on his back as if ready to rise at any moment, although tonight his head was tilted towards James. He was murmuring something James couldn’t make out, his eyebrows furrowing occasionally.
It was rare to see him like this, even though they shared a bed. Ever since that first night when James had shaken Will awake, the dark-haired boy had made an effort to always get up before James and to never fall asleep first.
He watched him sleep for a while, letting his thoughts run wild, speculating about the boy next to him.
The more he thought about him, the more he realised Will was a mystery no one had ever tried to solve.
He made you feel you belonged, like you had a purpose, just with one look into his deep brown eyes, so dark they were almost black. He had an easy posture and a carefree smile that turned all your worries into dust.
With kind words and quiet confidence, he seemed so undeniably good. He was the lady's blood, after all. Raised by a mother cherished until her tragic death, he had made a place for himself with the stewards. Trained by their hand, his loyal lion at his side.
How could James not be drawn to him?
He had chased the dark until Will had illuminated his world. Given him the choice and freedom that all others had attempted to take from him since the moment he first opened his eyes.
Still, James was slowly starting to realise he knew little to nothing about Will.
No one did.
Every question he had about Will, he was unable to answer.
Will so rarely displayed any of his fears or hopes, and any hint of vulnerability James was able to spot was hidden so fast, it was as if he had imagined it.
He didn’t even know what Will’s favourite colour was, for crying out loud.
Frustration bubbled up inside him. After all he had done, why couldn’t Will just trust him?
Will’s murmuring was getting louder, and James could just about make out what he was saying.
‘Mother…please, it's me… Mother.’ He trailed off and a gave a short, strangled cry.
James had woken Will from nightmares before despite the other boy’s efforts to keep them hidden, but he had never heard Will sound as afraid as he did now.
It caused a foreign feeling to tangle up in his chest. Will wasn’t meant to make those noises; he was the light, fearless in the face of the dark.
James watched a little longer, unable to pry his eyes from this side of Will that was hidden from everyone. Strangely enough, he could relate to Will’s pleas; his own fruitless begging sounded much the same.
Shame crept up on him every time he recalled his younger self's voice, not yet deepened, begging for a sliver of mercy the stewards gave to no one. It was only natural to get rid of the parasite in a culture that had its foundations built on perfection. He was a fool to ever think otherwise.
Will’s breath suddenly hitched, freeing him from his thoughts as his pleas only grew louder. Unable to bear it any more, James did his best to wake up Will, gently, to avoid fighting him even further.
Carefully, he brushed a lock of dark hair from his face and pressed his fingers onto Will’s temple. When that didn’t work, he moved his hand down Will’s face and shook him lightly. It was only when he grazed his neck that the boy awoke. His eyelids flew open in panic, and he jerked upright as if expecting a fight, the blanket falling off his shoulders. James flinched back and retracted his hand quickly.
Will was breathing heavily, one of his pale fingers wrapped around his neck, checking his pulse frantically before he got his nerves under control.
The lady’s descendant sighed before resting his head against the bed frame. James observed Will carefully. The dark-haired boy shut his eyes forcefully before opening them slowly, as if pushing his nightmare back into the depths of his mind.
When he finally looked back at James, his face had returned to its regular expression, one of easy confidence. The first words out of his mouth were steady too, only quieter than usual and perhaps a little more burdened.
‘I’m sorry, did I wake you?’
If he wasn’t so tired himself, James might have laughed and made fun of him for the question. The perfect saviour, always putting others before himself.
Instead, he simply shook his head and pushed his hair out of his face.
‘No, don’t worry, I already was awake’
Will nodded and then analysed James’s face for a moment.
‘Bad dream?’ Will asked sympathetically, his dark eyes turning to meet James’s blue.
James frowned. It was peculiar, yes, but even though he hated to admit it, the dream wasn’t all that unpleasant.
So, he sighed and admitted, ‘Not really, no.’
Will remained silent for a moment before asking, ‘Do you want to tell me what it was about?’
It was extraordinary how much those three little words affected him.
Do you want.
At that moment, he did want to tell Will, it was so easy to just follow along, it felt liberating. In fact, it was only when he opened his mouth to answer Will’s question that he realised what the other boy was doing.
James wondered if Will even knew he was doing it, or if it was just his nature. No wonder he knew nothing about him. Just after he had woken up from a nightmare, panting, he had somehow managed to direct the conversation back to James’s issues in under two minutes.
In another scenario, he might have even been impressed.
‘You really are a sneak. ’ James said.
‘’What? Will blinked in an absolutely adorable manner, looking like a confused puppy.
‘What I want, James said slowly, is for you to stop hiding from me for once.’
Will looked back at him as if he had no idea what James meant. James rolled his eyes.
He knew very well Will was perceptive enough to understand him perfectly and read between the invisible lines James himself hadn’t considered.
‘Fine, let me rephrase, what on earth did you dream about that was so horrific you had to check your pulse to see if you survived?’
Will replied without missing a beat. He shrugged one shoulder casually and said, ‘Just a regular nightmare, nothing important about the dark king or anything.’
James scoffed, unwilling to let the topic go, ‘Not everything important is about him , you know.’
Perhaps it was just the cloud that floated in front of the moon, but James could have sworn he saw an expression of fear pass over Will’s features. Or was it sadness? It was hard to tell with him. Whatever it was, it moved along faster than the cloud, leaving Will as unknowable as ever.
When the dark-haired boy offered no response, James prodded further. A part of wanting to see just how far he could go before Will pushed him away.
‘Tell me about your mother, ’ James demanded.
He was pleased to see Will, who was normally so composed, make an almost comical expression of surprise. He rearranged his features fast enough, but still slower than usual, which James counted as a small victory.
‘She wanted the best for her children, I wanted to make her happy. Then Sinclair killed her; other than that, there's not much to say.’ ‘Why do you ask?’
‘You were talking about her in your sleep; she didn’t sound very kind when you spoke of her then.’
‘She was afraid of the dark king, and she wanted to protect her kids from him, obviously. After my aunt died, she was even more paranoid.’ Will paused, as if scared to say more.
James should have told him that he didn’t have to speak if he didn’t want to.
He stayed silent.
He knew it was selfish of him; even so, he desperately wanted to be someone Will could confide in.
‘She may have hurt me a little in the process, but only because she was trying to do what was best.’
Will made it all sound so incredibly justified, James nearly forgot the fear in Will’s voice from just a few minutes ago.
The one thing that stopped him from forgetting was the movement of Will’s eyes when he spoke.
The one thing that stopped him from forgetting was the movement of Will’s eyes when he spoke.
For just the barest second, Will’s eyes had darted down to where his bare hand rested.
James had never thought about it much, but Will did wear gloves quite often.
Experimentally, he reached out with his magic and nudged Will’s pinky. The other boy looked surprised but didn’t pull his hand away, so James took it a notch further.
He lifted Will’s hand slowly until it was close enough for him to examine with his real fingers. The whole time Will watched as if transfixed by an ancient power.
When James ran his thumb over the back of Will's hand, he was acutely aware of the way Will’s breath hitched. Then, when he turned Will’s hand over to reveal his palm, James let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.
There was a large gash right in the middle of his palm; it had healed well enough to only leave a scar, but a rather impressive one. James felt a familiar surge of anger bubble up before it got lodged in his throat. He looked up at Will to see how he would react.
His eyes had turned blank, a jarring juxtaposition to the intensity Will’s gaze had always carried, prior to this moment. His expression betrayed no righteous hatred; in fact, his face showed nothing at all. At most, James could say he looked mournful, although even that would have been mere guesswork.
James slowly felt his anger morph into protectiveness as he stared at Will, who was looking vaguely at the side, avoiding James's prying eyes. James continued to stare, trying to understand how anybody could ever want to hurt Will. If the circumstances were different, he would have assumed that the scar had been caused by one of Sinclair’s men. Now, however, in the dead of night with Will’s walls lowered, it was easy enough to guess who had done it.
A hundred more questions James wanted to ask swirled in his mind, but the moment Will looked back at him, all of them faded into nothing. It was weak of him, although he couldn’t bring himself to ask for more than Will had already given him tonight.
There was a part of James he had grown accustomed to ignoring whatever good was in him. When he’d run from the stewards with nowhere to go but the dark, he had convinced himself that there would be no more good for people to see.
Will had seen, of course, he had. He had treated James the way he thought he’d never deserve.
Although, to be frank, there weren’t quite as many thoughts running through his head at the moment. All he knew was that he wanted to keep Will close and to shield him from all the pain the world had to offer.
So, James yanked the hand he was holding and pulled Will into his chest.
The other boy gave a short yelp of surprise in response as James wrapped his arms around him.
Will had gone rigid in his grasp, and James started to think he had horribly misread the situation.
Of course, Will wouldn't want to be hugged by him. Why would he want the dark king's property all over him? No one would accept comfort from a murderer, especially not one who killed his own family.
Gods, I’m stupid, James thought to himself as he started to release Will from his hold.
He froze when he felt a pair of hands come to rest gingerly on his back as Will hugged him back. It was only when Will buried his face into James’s shoulder that he let out a quiet sigh of relief. He tightened his grip around the other boy before running one hand through his tangled black hair.
Will shivered and pressed his forehead against the crook of James’s neck.
After a short while, the boy saviour whispered, ‘Thank you’
‘ For what?’ Asked James
‘For following us, fighting by our side, I should tell you more often, because I truly am grateful.’
Following you , fighting by your side, James wanted to say, but couldn’t quite muster up the courage.
Instead, he hummed in response and continued playing with Will’s hair, pleased by the praise but unsure of how to respond. Will didn’t seem to mind too much; he simply shifted his weight to a more comfortable position and curled up against James’s chest.
He felt a burst of rebellious glee mixed with fear. James wondered what the dark king would do if he found him like this with another man. A sense of satisfaction rolled over him as he considered the possibility. It didn’t matter any more. Will was the light bringer; his darkness could never touch James again.
It was perfect.
The blond focused on committing every detail of the moment to memory. The slight chill in the air, the lock of hair that kept falling onto Will's face, and the weight of the body against his chest. James couldn’t look away from the boy even if he wanted to.
Will had always been striking, of course, but under the moonlight, he looked otherworldly. His pale skin seemed to glow, contrasted by his dark hair and long lashes. With his eyes closed, and his expression softened, he looked angelic. James wanted so badly to reach out and kiss those pale lips and drown himself in Will’s warmth. Even now, with Will’s power locked away, he could feel its energy calling out to him. He wished he could have it, to be suffocated so thoroughly by the light that Sarcean would be nothing more but a sour aftertaste to be washed away by Will.
The possibility was unbearably close, near enough for him to believe it was possible, yet he could never grasp it as it slipped away from his fingers, time an–.
Suddenly, he was jolted back to reality, caught off guard by a barely awake Will.
‘You would have been a good steward,’ he said absentmindedly. Will’s eyes were closed and his breaths already evening out, so it was likely he didn’t know what he was saying, but the words still hit far too close to home for James.
Caught off guard by the statement, James thought for a long time before he said anything.
He knew Will meant it as a compliment; to him, the stewards were noble and kind, he was the blood of the lady; how could he know any better? Even to James, who had sworn to never return to his steward ways, he felt a pang of homesickness. He remembered just how lost he was for the first year since he had run, the staleness of everything from food to fabrics.
James wondered. For the first time in years, if he could still perform the three triten. Ever since he could move his fingers, James had been trained to hold a sword. Every day for eleven years, until it was embedded so deeply into him that it made up more of his identity than his own name.
Then he found out James wasn’t his name; Anharion was what they had all started to call him, but that wasn’t his name either.
Although maybe the betrayer had always been more intertwined with him than he had known.
‘I was, ’ responded James in a voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t know if Will was still awake to hear it, yet he wanted to say it out loud, if only for himself.
James could still remember the first time he had picked up a sword. It had always felt like a part of himself, just like his magic was. When he was first learning the triten, he didn’t have to try at all, as if the discipline of his old life had carried him all the way to this one.
The Sun King's general
The steward prodigy
Best in the hall.
All his hard work just to be reduced to nothing at all, he was the traitor and never more.
That was the steward's way, after all.
Train to fight the dark while waiting for our own shadow to take over. Fight side by side with your shield mate, only to run them through.
So long had he searched for his purpose, James looked down at Will and smiled.
For once, he finally felt like he was doing something right; nothing else had come close to how it felt to be at Will’s side. It was who he was meant to be; he knew it in his bones.
At one point, James felt his eyes grow heavy as he struggled to stay awake, afraid that Will would leave if he fell asleep. This all went in vain, however, because not long after, a violent burst of wind pounded the windows against the wall, making an insufferably loud noise.
Will's eyelids rushed upwards along with his head, bumping the bottom of James chin fairly painfully. He quickly slipped out of James's arms and looked around the room for danger. Upon realising there was none, Will looked back at James sheepishly.
‘Sorry,’ Will said awkwardly.
James grumbled and rubbed the side of his chin that Will had injured.
James grumbled and rubbed the side of his chin that Will had injured.
Will’s sights lingered on the window a little longer; he frowned. He muttered something under his breath that James couldn’t hear before moving to close the window.
While it was true that James was disappointed that Will was no longer near, he did still relish the splotches of scarlet that he spotted resting on the back of Will’s neck.
When Will came back to bed, he stretched his body out with the ease of an asritrocat, before turning over onto his back.
For the barest moment, Will looked frighteningly familiar; his features were all the same, and so were his mannerisms. James could so easily imagine the same scene from centuries ago. His hair was long and spread out like silk, they were in a garden, and the air smelt of citrus.
It was the same dream he had earlier this very night. There had been no collar on his neck, yet he still remembers the heat in his cheeks when his old friend had looked at him with those same intense eyes that had never faltered across the unforgiving passage of time.
Once again, the scene played through his mind.
‘And if I were king, would you be my queen ?’ Sarcean said, his words too soft, too thoughtful to have only been a tease.
While he couldn’t remember his response, he knew Sarcean's question had pleased him to a degree he could not admit to in either life.
How strange, to think they could have been friends, Sarcean and him.
Will was looking up at him with concern in his eyes; he must have lingered on the memory for too long.
‘Are you alright?’ he asked James, his voice thick with sleep.
James almost laughed at himself. It seemed ludicrous to compare Will to the dark king. He would never look at James as Will did, with gentle concern. Would never curl up in his arms and care for him enough to let him be free. After all, the dream was still fuzzy in his recollection. It likely wasn’t Sarcean at all, in fact he wasn’t even sure where he had got that information from.
Maybe it was one of the Lady’s lovers, Wills, a great grandpa from however many generations ago.
‘More than alright, ’ James responded with a tired smile before lying down next to Will.
Just before both boys fell asleep, however, James couldn’t resist one more question.
‘Will, he said, his voice slurring at the edges, what’s your favorite colour?’
The other boy took so long responding that James thought he’d fallen asleep.
After a minute or two, he answered.
‘Gold, ’ Will said, turning around to look at him, his dark eyes brimming with affection, the corners of his mouth forming an almost smile.
What’s yours, James? He asked in return, looking at him expectantly.
James paused, realising he didn’t know the answer himself. It was such a trivial matter that the steward version of him had never bothered considering; training was what he was meant to do. And well after… he had other issues to worry about, to put it mildly.
James paused, realising he didn’t know the answer himself. It was such a trivial matter that the steward version of him had never bothered considering; training was what he was meant to do. And well after… he had other issues to worry about, to put it mildly.
He thought about it for a good while. He supposed blue was nice; it had a calming effect, but seeing it in the eyes every day had dulled the effect. The green of leaves and plants was nice, but nothing compared to what the janissaries had grown. Red was a no for obvious reasons, but then what?
He looked back at Will’s eyes, he’d always considered them to just be a dark brown, but up close he could, they truly were just black. Will’s eyes were normally intense, to say the least; it was one of James’s favourite parts of him. Now they had morphed to something softer, more welcoming, just staring into them made James feel like he was being welcomed by an abyss.
‘Black,’ James said, a grin tugging on the side of his mouth.
Saying it out loud felt nice. He no longer had to fear Sarcean’s dark when he had Will; it felt good to reclaim that part of him.
Will’s eyes widened in mild surprise before he pointed out, ‘Black's not a colour, it’s a shade’
James snorted before deflecting it back at him, ‘With that logic, Gold’s not a colour either, it's a metal’
Will made a faint tsk sound before sighing heavily and turning his head back at the ceiling.
‘I suppose you're right.’ He admitted
‘Of course I am, ’ James said with his usual arrogance.
He heard Will let out a breathy laugh as he tilted his head towards James again.
It took a good amount of James's willpower to not do something unbelievably stupid, like kiss Will right then and there.
Instead, he grabbed the blanket and draped it over himself, closing his eyes.
‘Goodnight Will’
Will sighed fondly, ‘Goodnight James and quit hogging the blanket, would you? It’s still rather chilly.’
Unfortunately, it seemed that James had fallen asleep. Releasing that he would receive no response, Will grabbed the blanket from James’s grasp and lay next to him. He stayed closer than he should have; nonetheless, neither James nor anybody else would know, so he indulged himself once more.
He knew he couldn't allow himself this again, so he paid close attention to how the light fell onto James's pale lashes and the sound of his breath as the blond fell into a deeper slumber.
I have to tell him , Will thought miserably as James shifted closer to Will, even in sleep, chasing his presence.
He shouldn’t have allowed himself to be close to James, but he was so very tired of hiding all his life. It was nice to close his eyes and imagine a world where no one cared, where they knew he could be good. Maybe Violet would crack jokes about his past life, and James would choose him without the invisible presence of Sarcean pushing him Will’s way.
Of course, it would never happen; it was as implausible as the sky turning red.
But Will was a liar, and a good one at that, so he made himself believe it, just for one night.