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For the first time in centuries, Thrain regains control of his limbs.
The first thing he sees is a young knight, dark of hair and armor, holding the sword that still is the key to his state of damnation, for Thrain is not free yet. By claiming the cursed remnant of the gods’ anger, the knight has only changed the focus of the curse. The sword had been masterless and the curse, thus unfocused. Thrain had been trapped in inaction, unable to affect the world around him as Khaenri'ah faded from human memory. By claiming the sword that had been chaining him to the throne, the man might have unfrozen him, but nothing more. Thrain can tell the curse is still restraining his movements, still keeping him from true freedom. Now that the gods have deemed someone worthy of holding his leash, he will have to follow. He can feel it down to his bones. He had rebelled against their authority. As punishment, obedience was forced upon him.
The young man startles. “He’s moving! This wasn’t supposed to happen. Ifa, what do we do?”
The other man, standing some distance aside, makes himself known. “I have no idea. Hey, at least it doesn’t look like he’s going to beat you up to get back his sword, so there’s that. Hey, you. Capitano, was it? That’s what Granny said, at least. Are you okay?”
A very loaded question. He has not been anywhere near fine, nor will he be in the future, but this stranger has no right to demand to know his state of being. “You know of me?” The sound of his voice is strange to his ears after so long. Surely his tongue should have turned to stone.
As for the name, this one will do. Everyone who has known Thrain has certainly died long ago. May Thrain and them all rest in the peace Capitano will never find.
“Granny Itztli does, at least. I don’t remember much, but this is your sword, isn’t it? Ororon needs one, he’s a chosen hero and all, and Granny Itztli thought this one would suit him. Sorry about taking it.” The young man named Ifa elbows the other. “C’mon, apologise for stealing his sword. Maybe he’ll let you keep it if you’re nice. It’s not like he needs it anymore.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know.” The one called Ororon said. He seems genuinely contrite.
Capitano sighs. At least the one he is made to serve appears to be a decent person. He would not have been surprised to find the gods had gifted him to someone eager to use his might, should it have been preserved, to cause chaos and destruction.
He wishes he could remain silent, let the men leave and go on with his lives. He could use this new chance at life to seek others like him, awaiting a chance at salvation.
But the curse wouldn’t allow it. He can feel its tendrils roaming over him, letting him know that what he doesn’t willingly divulge, it will put to light. “It would be more just to say I am the sword’s than the reverse. As you are its current holder, my fealty is yours. I could certainly not take it back from you.”
Both men look at him with stunned faces. “Wait, what do you mean your fealty is his? We barely know who you are!”
“It is what it is; a curse imposed on me by the gods.”
Ororon shoves the sword back into his hand. “I don’t need it then!”
It falls, ringing against the rocks. Capitano could not manage to close his hand around it. “Then leave it. We will remain here should you change your mind.”
Ororon frowns, distraught. “You’ll remain here? In the middle of nowhere? How will you even survive? There’s not even a vegetable to be found! I looked!”
The young man’s worry is almost sweet. “I do not believe I can leave if the sword doesn’t. As for my survival, I do not believe I can die either.” He has been stuck here for ages. He cannot imagine he would be allowed to escape this easily.
“Makes sense, considering how long ago the Cataclysm was. Something has to be off for him to still be alive. Ororon, can you sense anything about the curse?”
Ororon closes his eyes, as if focusing. “There’s something, but I can’t tell what. Granny would know better.”
Ifa shrugs. “Then let’s take him with us. We can ask her, and maybe Xilonen has read something in the archives.”
Ororon turns toward him. “Do you want to come?”
It’s kind of him to ask, really. “Let’s depart.” If he ever sees this mountain again, it will be too soon.
____________
“I can’t confirm his claims fully, but there is a curse on this sword, something so powerful I can’t possibly remove it. I can’t believe I couldn’t find anything about this! Sure, it is very old, and we knew it was a relic from the time of the Cataclysm, but how come the sword’s existence was documented but no one even checked for malicious intent around it! Those old fools! If they were still around, Granny Itztli would set them right!”
Ororon lets the woman called Citlali, apparently a famous sorceress, rant uninterrupted. “So Granny can’t help.”
A tall woman with feline features is the next one to talk. “I haven’t found anything either. We’ll have to ask Mavuika, but if your new friend is right, I don’t think she’ll be able to do much about curses cast by gods.”
Capitano remains silent. No matter how renowned the knights serving the warrior queen of this realm, they cannot hope to win against something that the combined might of Khaenri'ah failed to stop.
“I really shouldn’t keep this. It’s just a sword. I can find another one.”
Capitano can’t blame him. Surely he doesn’t want to be attached to the wrath of the gods, or to a damned stranger.
“Someone has to. Everything we know about it says it’s not just anyone who can use it. You’re obviously compatible. You might as well keep it.”
“But Granny-”
“Don’t argue with your granny! I found you a nice weapon, one suitable for one of the Heroes of Natlan. Use it in a way that won’t bring me shame!”
Ororon folds immediately.
He doesn’t seem like someone who can carry the destiny of a country.
Then again, neither did he, or many of his compatriots, and they strove for it anyway.
“In the meantime, what is happening to the big guy? He said something about having to follow Ororon. What do we do about that?”
Interesting question from Ifa. He has gathered that Ororon are close rather than a knight and his squire, which had been his first guess. He wasn’t that far off; Ifa cares for all horses, not just Ororon’s.
This question seems to throw Citlali out of her ramblings. “Capitano has a decent reputation. He was well liked and respected by his peers, and was one of, if not the strongest warrior of Khaenri'ah. He should be able to handle his own even against Mavuika, if he still has the strength he had then. He would be a good addition to our cause.” She turns toward him. “But that doesn’t mean I trust you! Who knows how you could have changed! I will be keeping an eye on you myself at all times! Ororon, don’t drop your guard around him!”
Ororon nods. “I’ll be careful.”
Capitano does not answer. The man before him couldn’t hope to defeat him, should they be fighting a fair fight. He does not have the moves or instincts of a battle-hardened fighter.
Ifa visibly worries. “That doesn’t answer anything? Where is he going to live?”
“Both Capitano and Ororon are staying at the castle for the immediate future.”
“Granny! I have to tend to my vegetables! And to my aphids!”
“Ifa can handle it for now. Until we know more about this curse, I’m not letting you out of my reach.”
Capitano turns to the person who just entered the room before she speaks. If Ororon’s nonthreatening presence had given him doubt, he can tell this woman would be a challenge even for him. “Oh? Is the grand sage Citlati now ordering my knights around as she wishes?”
“Are you questioning my judgment? Are you going to let him act as he wishes? He’s not one of your subjects!”
Mavuika, for that must be her, laughs merrily. “I would never dare! Welcome, Capitano, to my castle. I would be honored to count you as one of my people, should you agree to it.”
Choosing to submit to another ruler holds no appeal, yet the choice has been taken out of his hands. “I cannot make such a choice. You will have to ask your knight.”
“That’s unfortunate. Men of your caliber should be allowed to make their own mistakes, but that does simplify things. Until you are freed from your curse, I shall consider you one of my people, as someone who works under one of my knights. I might jest, but Citlali’s suggestion is wise. All of you should remain here until more is known. I shall have quarters prepared.”
“As you wish,” says a sulking Ororon.
Capitano can only accept his fate.
____________________
He was afraid he would be made to share a room with his master, or with the sorceress who seems to be so highly regarded so that she can keep watch over him, but he is granted a more than serviceable space to call his own.
The idea that he’ll sleep in a bed, in a closed room, seems laughable after spending so long sitting in the wilderness. He wonders if he will be able to fall asleep, or if the risk of waking up on that throne, immobile, will keep him awake.
The room is guarded, though he doubts the fighters stationed in front of it could stop him if he wanted to leave. The ward Citlali put on his door might give him more trouble. She would certainly be warned of his escape.
Not that he will. He can almost feel Ororon’s presence through the wall, close enough for the spell not to object. He dares not test it, not yet at least, but he is almost certain that he could not go far, surely not leave the castle, without Ororon’s explicit permission, and even that might not be enough.
Still, he has been treated more respectfully than his troubled past and current circumstances would demand. He is allowed privacy. For what he has seen of Mavuika, she seems like a proper ruler, mindful of her people and having earned their loyalty. Things could be much, much worse for him.
It cannot blind him to how better they could also have been. He cannot imagine how joyous being woken by his successors, survivors of Khaenri'ah who had won where he had failed, would have been. Coming back home to a prosperous kingdom instead of unknown lands.
Capitano is used to his dreams being dashed. This is just more of the same.
____________________
He ends up sleeping rather well, though the sight of the ceiling had been confusing when he first opened his eyes. It took him some time to remember what happened yesterday. So much change when he had felt none in centuries couldn’t be so easily accepted.
He dresses and waits. It seems better to wait than risk drawing anyone’s enmity.
He can tell Ororon is the one behind the door even before the knock can be heard. Really, he could let himself in and Capitano couldn’t say a word against it.
“Hi. Let’s get breakfast.”
Does he even need to eat at this point? Lack of food wouldn’t kill him, and he has no intention of removing his helmet in public. He will eat in private, or not at all.
Capitano lets Ororon lead him to the mess hall without a word.
Very few people give them a second look, which implies either incompetence or confidence bordering on foolhardiness. Capitano is someone trained soldiers should be wary of.
These are not his men. It is not on him to point out their flaws.
Ororon leads them to a table where a young woman is excitedly waving them over. “Ororon! Over here! Who’s your friend?”
Does gossip travel slower in Natlan than it did in Khaenri'ah? Everyone would have known of him before sunset.
The young man beside her snorts. “That’s Capitano. Ororon went to get his sword and came back with the original owner instead. What were you even doing yesterday not to hear of it?”
“I was visiting the People of the Springs! I came back late! Catch me up if you’re that informed!”
Ororon sits down. “Kinich will explain it to her. You can ignore them.”
Are these children really who the fate of Natlan rests on? The one named Kinich is obviously more wary of him than his compatriot, but that should have been expected. Some of Natlan’s warriors must have learned caution.
Capitano refuses offers of food, dreading Ororon’s insistence, but he lets it go without a word.
They do not know each other. Maybe Ororon doesn’t care.
Instead, he takes his surroundings in. The fare he is offered is plentiful and of good quality. The castle is sturdy and well maintained. The people are cheerful and healthy, obviously not drowning in worries. All signs point to a flourishing nation.
Ororon is joined by other knights. They seem to be good friends, joking around like they can’t feel duty weighing them down.
It’s nostalgic, in a strange way. He was never that close to the other knights of his own order, but they were still his.
Ororon leaves the table with a visible lack of enthusiasm. “I have to go train now, or Granny will complain. Or Ifa. Or Mavuika.”
Capitano rises to follow him. “Do you not like the sword?”
“I prefer the bow, but apparently it’s not knightly enough. I have to be skilled with a sword, never mind that I never choose to use it.”
The sword he has chosen to take is not the kind of weapon a beginner should play around with. Even if it is not his first recourse, he needs to be able to wield it.
He is surprised to find the courtyard empty of instructors.
Ororon takes the sword and starts what appears to be a routine someone apparently trained into him despite his reluctance.
His form isn’t bad, but he’s obviously unused to the weapon. He, surprisingly, has the strength to handle the sword, but he would obviously benefit from much more practice.
Ororon remains alone, which is surprising. “Surely someone taught you these exercises. Could they not help you train? Your potential growth is limited without combat experience.”
“Iansan is very in demand. She spares me some time when she can.”
Again, from what he has heard from Citlali, isn’t Ororon supposed to be one of Natlan’s fated heroes? Shouldn't his training be prioritised? Capitano certainly wouldn’t have let one of his men struggle by himself in that way. He would have taught them better himself.
As if Ororon had heard his thoughts, which he hopefully cannot do, “You’re good with a sword, aren’t you? Couldn’t you teach me?”
Capitano balks. Ororon has met Capitano yesterday. There is precious little he knows about Capitano, and one of those few things is that he is a formidable fighter, or at least he should still be. Is he reckless enough to give him a blade and let him use it against him? “That cannot be a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“I could try to kill you.”
“You said you couldn’t.”
“For all you know, I was lying.”
“You were lying!?”
The shock is almost sweet. Ororon really is too naive for his position. “I wasn’t, but you can’t be sure of it. Offering me a sword could be dangerous.”
“I could order you not to hurt me.”
The spell twists over Capitano, reacting to the words just spoken. “You could.” He can’t tell him not to. It would be a smart move, maybe the smartest since his arrival here.
Unless Capitano really was lying, and the order causes Ororon to lower his guard.
“You can’t hurt me or my friends for a week.”
Capitano blinks even as he feels the power of the curse rush over him painlessly. He had no intention to hurt Ororon, so there is no binding his movements. “Why a time limit?”
“I don’t know you yet, so I can’t trust you fully, but I also don’t know you’re not trustworthy. Giving you some time to prove yourself seems fair. Unless it hurts. Does the curse hurt?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Then let’s spar. I’ll get you a sword.”
Capitano still questions the rightness of that particular decision, but if Ororon is willing to take the risk, he would like to test his own skills after so many years of inaction.
The weight of a sword feels as it used to. Capitano tries a few moves and finds nothing amiss. He appears to have maintained his strength and skills. “I’m ready.”
“Let’s go.”
Capitano finds he has underestimated his opponent. Ororon is not a match for him, but he has decent battle sense. He can anticipate simple attacks and does not panic when taken by surprise. He doesn’t drop his sword when Capitano hits him especially hard, though his arms shake.
Ororon could become a redoubtable fighter if he tried.
Which he doesn’t seem extremely inclined to do. “Enough! My arm is going to break! It has to be lunch time by now?”
Capitano pulls back. It was delightful to experience the thrill of combat again, but he won’t push Ororon farther than he wants to. He has no reason to.
“We’re going to see Granny after, so better be prepared.”
____________________
“You let him beat you up with a sword?? Are you stupid? Is my grandson an idiot? What did I tell you about trusting him! He could have killed you!”
Ororon is sulking. “He didn’t, and I told him not to.”
“Oh, you did, did you? And what good would that have done! We have no idea how that presumed curse is working! He’s lying for all you know!”
“That’s what he said. He thought it was a bad idea.”
“So he really does have more sense than you! Hopefully, he’s right in the way the spell works and you’ll have a minder to make sure you don’t put yourself in foolish danger again!”
“You said I had Ifa for that before.”
“Ifa has work to do! Capitano has nothing better to do than follow you around! He might as well be useful while doing it.”
Ororon wilts under his grandmother’s scolding.
It is possible that for the first time in centuries, Capitano finds something endearing. What wrong could there be in letting this young man enjoy life before he is too burdened by his duties?
“Well, enough of that. We have work to do. There is a curse. We’re going to understand it, no matter how long it takes. We need to know what it does, how it affects you both, its range, its origins, its strength. You told me Capitano said he couldn’t leave the mountain if the sword didn’t. Was it linked to the sword having no master, or to the physical presence of the sword?”
That question is apparently intended for him. “I believe it is the former.”
“So now that Ororon has the sword, you can move as you will?”
Citlali is a good ally for Natlan to have. The country cannot work if it is only led by reckless spirits. “I don’t quite know, but I do not believe I could go very far.”
“What if Ororon told you to go visit the Children of Echoes?”
“I am uncertain of their location.”
Citlali hits her forehead. “Or course you don’t know much about current geography. Many things have changed since Khaenri'ah. You need to catch up. Ororon, take him to the library later. For now, we’re doing tests. Your afternoons are mine until I’ve found out everything there is to discover about this whole mess.”
____________________
The days continue as such. Capitano wakes. He trains Ororon and hones his own skills in the morning. Afternoons are dedicated to letting Citlali test the curse or do research in the library. Capitano has indeed missed so much in his centuries of paralysis. Dynasties were born and died in the time it took him to return to life. A lifetime might not be enough to catch up.
The librarians allow him to borrow books, so that’s usually how he fills his evening, where his time isn’t managed as closely. He still hasn’t been allowed to roam freely in the castle, which is understandable. Frankly, he appreciates being given a place to be alone and time by himself, even if he is under external surveillance.
Ororon rarely demands anything of him. He will sometimes call him or requests something in a way that triggers the curse, but his requests are so ordinary that they have never caused him trouble. They are nothing he wouldn’t demand of a friend.
Capitano still wonders why he has been selected to join Natlan’s order. Ororon seems so uninterested in the affairs of the kingdom, appearing much more preoccupied with the farm he hasn’t been allowed back to yet. He is not an unskilled warrior, but he doesn’t seem suited to the role of knight to the famous warrior queen of Natlan.
Fate sometimes chooses strangely. Humans cannot comprehend the will of the gods. He will find out, or he won’t. Until then, he is stuck by his side, though that phrasing is ungenerous. Ororon is quirky, but he is pleasant enough company. Dueling against him and accompanying him during the day are no hardship. They are not friends, but they are not enemies either. It’s… as simple as their current situation can be.
He cannot expect anything more.
____________________
The first real problem Capitano’s existence causes is when the Heroes are deployed to fight the Abyss. The forces of the Abyss are, apparently, a serious problem in Natlan and the main reason behind the knight order Ororon is a part of.
“Sorry, but Capitano is sitting this one out. I’m not entrusting my back to a stranger.”
Sound advice. Capitano can only appreciate that some of the knights serving Natlan have a good head on their shoulders.
“Kinich, he’s been around for weeks and he never did anything bad! Ororon says he’s an excellent fighter! Wouldn’t it be nice to have him on our side?”
Capitano supposes you can never have too many allies. That certainly seems like Mualani’s general take on life.
“Granny Itztli gave her reluctant approval. She said the spell should keep him in check, and at the very least should make him want to keep Ororon in one piece.”
Capitano is aware that Xilonen is also considered a Hero of Natlan, but a blacksmith, especially a very talented one, is better kept off the battlefield if you were to ask him. She’s not going to fix their swords on the spot.
“Capitano is a very good fighter. Better than me. I know. We’ve been training together.”
Ifa sighs. “Yeah, people noticed. He’s better than me, that’s for sure, and probably better than all of us here. That means you couldn’t take him on if he turned on you during the quest.”
Ororon looks at him. “Would you?”
“No, but you can order me not to do it if it will put your fellow knights at ease.”
Ororon winces. “Do I have to? It doesn’t feel right.”
Capitano hasn’t met the woman speaking yet, but she seems formidable. “Ororon is right. He should be free. If there is disagreement, I can mediate. For now, everyone but Kinich is for, and Iansan hasn’t spoken. Care to share?”
“He has no reason to turn on us, and he did good work on Ororon’s form. I say we risk it. Natlan is the nation of War. We can hold our own.”
“Great. Let’s go already!”
And so they do.
The monsters from the Abyss are no challenge for the Heroes. Seeing them change from frivolous youths to capable fighters surprises him more than it should. They had to be more than they let on.
Ororon does discard his sword in favor of his bow, as do most of his compatriots. Still, they manage.
Capitano helps as much as he can without it interfering with the unnatural need to protect Ororon that is being pushed on him, blinding him to attacks that he would usually have shielded allies from.
He tries not to wonder if he might have known some of the monsters they slaughter.
He is thrown out of his misery by instant, inexplicable panic that clears his mind of anything but the need to right what is terribly, terribly wrong. He is forced into action; before he knows it, he has torn to shreds an Abyss mage who managed to tear open Ororon’s chest before his shield was depleted.
The panic lessens by a fraction. The immediate threat has been dealt with, but Ororon is bleeding out too fast for his liking. He is no healer. He cannot mend this wound. What if it’s deadly? What if Capitano once again loses his anchor?
Ororon vacillates, and Capitano catches him before he can fall to the ground, aggravating his injuries.
His racing mind focuses on one point. If he cannot heal the wound, he can certainly secure the area by wiping out the remains of the Abyss. For the first time since he woke up, Capitano focuses and unleashes his ultimate attack, willing it to work even as his movements are obstructed by Ororon’s limp form resting against him.
The silence left behind is not especially helpful. Capitano should have packed some form of healing. Why didn’t he? Why is he stuck here again, watching someone die helplessly, losing those who are his to protect?
“Well, Granny Itztli did say he was one of the strongest warriors of his time.”
“That’s all nice and good, but it’s not going to help Ororon from not bleeding to death! Xilonen, can you do something? Or anyone else?”
“I can’t see how bad it is with Capitano holding him like this. He has to let go.”
“Seems like a tall order.”
“We can start by asking.”
Capitano starts focusing on the words being said when he hears his name. “Can you let Xilonen see him? She has healing abilities. She might be able to help.”
The possibility of healing calms him down somewhat. Gently, he unfurls his arm to let the blacksmith examine him.
“It’s not that deep. I can heal that.”
He can hear the growl in his own voice. The part of him still unaffected is dismayed at this rudeness, but most of him couldn’t care less. “Do it now.”
She ignores him in favor of doing what she has to do, and before long Ororon’s eyes open. “Ouch.”
Xilonen laughs. “Glad to have you back. How are you feeling?”
“Ouch.”
“But more specifically?”
“My chest hurts.”
“Being felled by an Abyss mage will do that to you. Your shadow has taken care of the Abyss, so let’s go back to the castle so you can rest properly.”
Ororon struggles to his feet. Capitano resists the urge to hold him again. “That seems like a good idea.”
____________________
As much as it pains him to admit it, Capitano spends the next few days fretting. In his current state, Ororon is vulnerable. Capitano has already failed to protect him. He can’t allow it to happen again.
This apparently endears him to those who were still wary of him. Tales of how he defeated multiple Abyss creatures in a few seconds to protect Ororon have traveled through the castle. People respect him now, though some giggle at his visible worry.
Capitano supposes he can’t help it. This attachment must be caused by the curse, not by Ororon himself. They have been getting along better, but this is too much. Ororon is not the first person to be wounded under his watch, and all seems to dictate he won’t be the last. This is an overreaction, even if Ororon is the person he is the closest to here.
He is sleeping now. He still needs to recover.
Capitano remains at his bedside, unwilling to let anyone disturb his repose.
An aphid is resting on his chest. Ifa brought a few along when he visited, with a cabbage for some reason. Ororon was visibly overjoyed, so Capitano has been restraining himself. Something so light cannot possibly aggravate his injury.
He had, however, had to stop Mualani and Varesa from overly enthusiastic hugs.
Calm reigns at the moment, so Capitano keeps watch, making sure Ororon’s pretty face remains smooth with sleep.
____________________
Ororon is deemed fit to leave his bed a few days after the event, but is kept away from their usual training for another week at least.
His renewed attempts to return to his home are still thwarted, however. “I don’t understand why I can’t go back home. Capitano can come with me! He saved my life. He won’t hurt me now!”
Citlali remains of ice. “I’m not done studying the curse, so you remain here. End of story.”
“Isn’t that Mavuika’s decision to make?”
“You think she will go against me?”
Mavuika is not a stupid woman. She won’t. Both Capitano and Ororon can tell. “But Granny-”
“No ‘But Granny’! You’re staying here when I can keep an eye on you! I let you go for one measly day and you come back half dead! The both of you remain here and that’s final!”
Ororon seems so dejected that Capitano is pushed to intervene in his favor. “Surely we could visit?”
Ororon straightens. “We could! What if we promised we’ll be back in a week?”
“A week! I know you! You’ll stay there three and when I come to pick you up, argue that it’s only been two days! Don’t try my patience! You. Stay. Here. Everyone is here. Go talk to Ifa or Kachina if you feel lonely.”
Well, Capitano tried.
Instead of following this suggestion, Ororon sulks his way back to his room.
An idea seems to hit him. “Do you miss them?”
Capitano frowns. “Who do you mean?”
“Everyone. All the people you used to live with, those who fought by your side, those who called you their captain. Your country. I can’t imagine not being with my aphids and all my friends. It must be painful.”
It is. It will forever be painful. He can’t conceive of a life where he doesn’t bear the weight of all those souls, gone too soon in pursuit of an ideal that they couldn’t possibly achieve. “I do.”
Capitano finds himself trapped into a hug. It shouldn’t have been possible for him to be taken by surprise, and yet, this is an action he couldn’t have foreseen. “I’m sure it’s not the same, but you have me, and Ifa, and all the others. I’ll do my best.”
Capitano is torn between opposite urges, one to submit to Ororon’s will and one to free himself from this uncomfortably intimate embrace.
It has been so long since someone has been this close to him. “Please do your best not to be hurt again. Otherwise, you have no obligation to me. You did not ask to be put in this position. I do not hold you responsible for it.”
“Do I need to have obligations to care?”
The answer leaves Capitano speechless. Ororon is too open. How can someone fated to protect a kingdom let himself be this vulnerable? Someone should have taught him better. He has been too sheltered, too protected from the world by people like Citlali and Ifa. He shouldn’t admit this to someone he has known for about a month.
He can’t genuinely blame them. He has no desire to be the one to teach him that the world can be cruel to people like him. If given the option, he would also prefer to shield him from such truths. “Of course not. I only hope no one will take advantage of your kind nature.”
“You’re not going to, and I can defend myself from pretty much anyone else, so it’s fine.”
Capitano laughs. He’s not wrong. “I would certainly also defend you from anyone who would try, so you might be right.”
Ororon smiles at him in answer.
It takes Capitano a few minutes to realise his answer was not prompted by the curse, but by his honest feelings.
It is troubling.
____________________
Capitano had spent the vast majority of his time by Ororon’s side, but now the young man actively seeks his company. He tries to involve Capitano in his other activities, prompts him to talk to his friends and colleagues, offers him this or that meal in the hope that someday, Capitano will be tempted enough to remove that helmet of his.
It is much more pleasant than their strangely guarded first interactions.
Sadly, the constant presence of Ororon has other side effects.
It’s not that it’s unpleasant, quite the contrary. It’s that Capitano has spent centuries in a state of limbo, not quite aware but not unconscious either. Acclimating to society would have been difficult even if he had been free to choose his own path, but now there is always someone nearby. He is given little privacy, except at night.
He shouldn’t be this affected, but after so much time alone, the permanent proximity of someone warm, both in body and in temperament, is troubling. Though he has tried everything to blind himself to this fact, Ororon is attractive in a way that would have caught his eyes even in the age of Khaenri'ah. Then, when he himself was young, famous and reasonably attractive, he might have pursued him. Now, it’s not even an option. Their relationship is already too fraught, not to mention the curse has wrapped him in ways that would make him an unpalatable prospect to anyone with eyes. It will not happen. He won’t even consider it. Ororon will never knock on his door late at night, when those who keep an eye on Capitano have retired, and let himself in the room that was allocated to Capitano. He will not remove Capitano’s mask to kiss him with an urgency that would suffer no hesitancy. He will not be met by proportional enthusiasm, will not let Capitano’s ravaged hands pull him close and remove his clothes until the both of them are tangled into each other, until the warmth of another body so close to him is more than a faded memory.
Because nothing of this will ever happen, Capitano will not dwell on it, not even when those long-forgotten urges force him to take care of things.
And if he ever slipped, if his treacherous brain made him feel as though he could taste Ororon’s skin on his tongue, no one would ever know.
“Were you married?”
The question takes Capitano completely by surprise. “No, I wasn’t.” He had had no time to find someone dear to him. Someone he would be happy to spend the rest of his life with.
“Are you going to find someone here then?”
What has brought this on? “I do not believe I will.” He has little prospect to offer, disfigured and already tied to another.
“You’re going to spend the rest of your life alone? That will be lonely.”
“It might be, it might not. Life has much to offer. I have always found other ways to keep busy, other objectives to make life worth living. Even if I were to resent my loneliness, it would be through no fault of yours.”
The response does not seem to cheer Ororon up. He is strangely dejected, as if genuinely worried about Capitano’s romantic life. “I don’t want you to be lonely. You were always kind to me, when you had so many reasons to hate me. You were trapped against your will, and you can’t gain your freedom because of me.”
Capitano doesn’t know how to soothe those groundless worries. Those to blame are out of his reach. Ororon is not one of them. “I assure you being here is much preferable to being stuck where I was. You are not to blame for my situation. I made choices and they had consequences. My punishment could have been much worse. If anything, I am grateful to you for freeing me from confinement. Natlan is not Khaenri'ah, but it is a good country in its own right. I do not hate being here.” It might never become home, but Capitano does not know the future.
“I have done nothing to earn your gratitude. You’re the one stuck with me.”
“I could say the same thing to you. You, too, are stuck with me.”
Ororon blinks. “No one would think that a punishment. Ifa would certainly say the reverse is true.”
But he wouldn’t think a word of it. “Anyone in my place would find that is wrong.”
Ororon blushes, and for a moment Capitano is captivated for reasons that have nothing to do with the curse.
Someone calls for Ororon from afar, and the moment passes.
Capitano does not allow himself to let it linger.
____________________
It is still unusual for people to go out of their way to seek out Capitano. He is always by Ororon’s side. Finding him alone is rare. It makes developing interpersonal relationships a bit harder.
Ifa is a particularly strange visitor. Considering how close Ororon and him are, Capitano sees no reason for this visit at his door, late enough that Ororon has retired to his own quarters.
This also appears to be awkward for Ifa, if the way he’s fidgeting can be believed.
Capitano lets him in and waits.
“Look, Ororon can be unaware of how he comes up sometimes. You have to be understanding.”
Ororon indeed possessed a peculiar character, but it has grown on Capitano. At time, it can be quite charming. “I noticed.”
Ifa glares at him. “If you hurt him, I don’t care that you’re some historical big shot, I’ll find a way to make you regret it.”
Capitano is frankly surprised by the hostility. “I do not believe I have done anything that could warrant such a reaction.” Quite the reverse, actually. He has protected the young man to the best of his abilities, has entertained his whims and participated in the events he was invited to. He sees no reason for Ororon to be hurt.
Ifa blinks. “You haven’t?”
Capitano nods. “Not to my knowledge.”
Ifa sighs. “I can’t believe… Well, it’s a matter of time then. Remember what I said when the time comes. Until then, not my business. Ororon can sort himself out. I’m not his mom.”
It’s good to know that Ifa is aware of this. Sometimes Capitano wondered.
“Shut up! I can tell what you’re thinking even behind that mask!”
Capitano decides not reacting is the safest response. “If that was all you were here for?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m out. Just keep it in mind.”
For what, Capitano has no idea. “I will. Good night.”
“Night.”
____________________
“Ororon and Capitano! Just the people I wanted to see!”
Capitano remains on his guard. He has had very few interactions with Mavuika, too busy to give everyone her attention, but she remains the strongest being he has met since he woke up. A certain level of caution is only prudent.
Ororon feels differently. “Is there anything we can help with?”
“You, not really. It’s your bodyguard I want to spend time with.”
What could she want with him. “I am here.”
“Good! Let’s spar.”
Capitano would be worried, but the prospect of challenging such an accomplished warrior rekindle a hunger he hadn’t felt since he woke up. “Why?”
“I’ve rarely had the chance to fight someone who might challenge me. I’ve been wanting to test your mettle myself since you arrived, but duty called. I have some time, you have some time, let’s do this.”
Ororon is better than he used to be, but he is far from being a true test of Capitano’s skills. “Are there stakes?”
“None at all!”
Capitano turns to Ororon. “Can I?”
Ororon hesitates. “You won’t hurt him?”
Mavuika explodes in laughter. “I’ll try my best to, but I’m sure he won’t let me! Is his safety more important than your queen’s?”
Capitano winces. If the ruler of this realm was anyone but Mavuika, such a question might spell doom.
Ororon is unfazed. “You’re the ruler. I’m your responsibility, not the reverse. I’m his ruler, kind of. He’s my responsibility.”
Her mirth does not disperse. “Oh, is that so? Well, you might not be his responsibility, but he certainly must defend your honor. You’ll let him fight in your name, then?”
Capitano would smack his forehead if the gesture wouldn’t come out as disgraceful. Is Mavuika the kind of ruler who teases her subject like this?
Ororon frowns, as if the conversation offends him. “He will, if he wants to.”
This is childish, but why not. “I will.”
The fight is exhilarating. She really is an exceptional opponent, able to parry all his attacks and to unleash her own with a ferocity he has rarely seen. He has no doubt she can defend this country.
The match ends up with a draw, both pressing their sword against the other’s throat.
Mavuika seems delighted, her fierce joy visible for all to see. She dusts herself off like this was a light skirmish and not a fight that would have killed the majority of her soldiers. “This was perfect! We need to do that again soon!”
“But not that soon, since you’re a queen with actual duties you’re neglecting to steal my grandson’s partner.”
Mavuika sighs like she was made to bear the weight of the world. “And we can’t have that, can we?”
“No, we can’t.”
“I’ll go check up with Xilonen then.”
“You do that.”
Ororon is subdued after the fight. “Is there something wrong?”
“No, it’s fine.”
It obviously isn’t. “You can tell me whatever is bothering you.”
“It’s nothing.”
It’s not his place to push this. He’ll wait. It will come out or not.
It does sooner than later. “You seemed well matched.”
“She is a very talented fighter. I am honored you think so.”
“That’s not what I meant. The queen is still unmarried.”
Capitano chokes on air. “I very much doubt this is why she approached me.”
“She likes you.”
“She likes everyone.”
“She doesn’t spar with everyone.”
“I suppose few could handle her might.”
“That has to be a bonus.”
Let’s make this very clear. “I have no intention of choosing a partner, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be the queen of the realm.”
“Why not?”
Why not, he asks. Why would he is a much better question. “I have nothing to my name, a body that has been destroyed by a curse and an obligation to put someone else first. What do I have to offer a lover, much less the queen of a realm?”
“Someone who cares about you wouldn’t mind any of that.”
Again, why would they? “It is not like such a person will exist. I cannot imagine I will grow close to anyone in the current circumstances. And this was not Mavuika’s intent when she challenged me. She is the queen of the nation of War. Of course she revels in combat. There was nothing more to it.”
“But do you like her?”
Why would Ororon care? Surely he doesn’t think he will turn against her at this point? “I don’t hate her, but I don’t especially care for her either. I barely know her.”
“So you really are going to stay alone for the rest of your life? It could be a very long time.”
Capitano does not particularly enjoy thinking about when and why his death might come. “I cannot see the future. Maybe it will happen. Maybe it won’t. Worrying about it now is pointless.”
“Would you look for someone if you were free to do so?”
This is another matter he tries not to think about. “Probably not. I would have other objectives.”
“What would they be?”
Capitano hesitates, but Ororon probably won’t mind. “I have wondered if what happened to me could have happened to my compatriots. If there are other survivors of Khaenri'ah who might need help. If I could, I would like to go look for them. I would not drag anyone else through this possibly futile quest.”
“Oh. That makes sense. You would like to free your friends.”
Some of the people he’s thinking about would not appreciate being described as his “friends.”
Ororon isn’t done. “We could do that. I’m sure Mavuika would let us go look for allies. And Granny would help! She knows a lot about Khaenri’ah.”
For a moment, Capitano lets himself imagine it. Leaving Natlan behind, at least for some time. Just him and Ororon on the road, finding themselves exploring long-abandoned ruins and deep caves for the chance to find whatever remains of Khaenri’ah and its population.
Going to sleep in the same tent and waking up side by side.
That would be nice. “You have duties to your country.”
“I’m not saying we’d leave forever! But we can take the occasional trip away. Unless there’s a war brewing, Mavuika won’t care.”
Capitano supposes Ororon is right. He can’t believe Mavuika would begrudge his knights the occasional break. “We’d have to get approval to spend the night away from the castle first.”
Ororon deflates. “Ah. You’re right. Granny still won’t let us go back to my house. She’ll never let us go on a quest.”
Capitano still hasn’t stepped a foot in that much-talked about abode. It’s clear that Ororon misses his home dearly.
He wonders what it looks like. It’s probably charming, in a somewhat eccentric way. A bit messy. Aphids flying through the rooms even though they should stay outside. Vegetables in bowls everywhere. “She will change her mind eventually.” Ororon is young. He has many years ahead of him. Citlali will tire of her edict sooner or later.
“I’ll take you when she allows it.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
“Hopefully by then we’ll be sharing a bed, so the lack of guest room won’t be a problem.”
Ororon can be unaware of social conventions, but surely even he did not just say that. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s sad, the way you think no one would want you. I do. You seem to like me well enough. Ifa and the others agree. Why wouldn’t we?”
Capitano is lost for words. If their positions were reversed, he would argue that their dynamic is fundamentally unbalanced, that a romantic relationship between superior and underling is always risky, and that when one party is unable to refuse the other, that risk is too great.
He is the one put in that vulnerable position, and for better or for worse, he has absolutely no fear of Ororon abusing his authority in a way that would endanger him. He cannot conceive of an order Ororon would plausibly give that he wouldn’t follow. Ororon is too kind to think of one.
“So you don’t disagree?”
“Pardon me, but I cannot decide which one should be my first objection. The points I have raised a few minutes before regarding my appearance or my lack of means to support myself still stand, though the other one is moot. You are still quite young, while I am centuries your elder. Your granny would find a way to defy the gods and end my life if I put a hand of you, and that’s if Ifa doesn’t get to me first. People will think I have bewitched you, or that the curse forced your hand. It is a terrible idea.”
“I care about none of those things, and no one will kill you. They think I need a keeper and you do a fine job of it.”
Ororon can’t just wave away fundamental objections like they are nothing!
For the first time in polite company, Capitano removes his helmet. “See what you just invited in your bed!”
Ororon takes it as an opening to kiss him.
Capitano pushes him back after a few astonishing seconds. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I want to, and because you do too.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. I can tell. You never said you didn’t. That would have been your first objection, not that meaningless list of yours.”
Damn it, he’s not wrong.
Ororon’s eyes twinkles. “Do I have to order you to kiss me again? Because if you keep rejecting me for no reason, I will.”
Capitano both recognises this as the lie it is, and accepts that even if he were to do it, to order him to act, Capitano would not blame him for it. He would be grateful for being given an excuse, for being allowed to pretend that he did not fully choose but that he can have anyway.
This is not a burden he would put on Ororon. He would never want him to wonder, even for a second, if Capitano was coerced into something he did not want. “You won’t have to.”
He feels Ororon’s smile against his lips, and for the first time since he wakes up, he is truly glad to have been trapped in this curse, for it brought him to the man from whom he would obey any order. It might have been compelled at first, but now, his loyalty is freely offered.
____________________
Capitano wakes up feeling lighter.
It takes his besotted mind much more time than it should have to figure what he feels isn’t infatuation but the absence of the curse crawling all over him.
Capitano rises and looks for the sword.
It’s waiting on the desk where it was put, having changed not at all since yesterday.
Capitano reaches for it.
His fingers wrap around the hilt with no issue, when he had been physically unable to do so before.
He is free. There is nothing tying him to this place. He could leave, if he wanted.
“Hmm, why are you up? It’s too early,”
Capitano puts the sword down carefully, so that he makes no sound. “It’s nothing.” He returns to the bed. “Forget about it.”
Ororon snuggles against him. “Okay.”
Capitano pets Ororon’s hair. He could keep this quiet. Take some time to think things through. Decide what he wants his future to look like, now that he apparently has a choice in the matter.
Even if that was fair, he suspects Citlali will be able to tell before her grandson figures it out. Capitano cannot believe her telling Ororon would turn out better than him being honest. “For your information, I believe we broke the curse last night.”
Ororon stands right up. “We did!?”
Capitano nods. “I can hold the sword.”
“Why? Surely you didn’t need to have sex with someone for it to go away?”
Capitano is embarrassed, and it’s not only because of this suggestion. “I don’t know for sure.”
“But you have a theory.”
“I do.”
“Are you doing to tell me?”
Capitano steels himself. “The curse was put in place to force allegiance I refused to give. It faded away when that allegiance was freely given. I willingly chose another master; there is no point in tying me down anymore.”
Ororon takes this news with mixed feelings. “Oh. But I’m not your master. I don’t want to order you around. Do I have to? I’d much prefer to be your equal.”
Capitano smiles. “You don’t have to. But though I am quite certain of my conclusion regarding my freedom, we should test it. Order me to do something.”
“Okay. Kiss me.”
Capitano does. “That was not a good test.”
“I don’t care.”
“Try again.”
“Kiss me.”
Capitano lets out a found sigh. “That was not what I meant and you know it.”
“Fine. Hit me.”
“That is a terrible test for another reason altogether. What if I had been wrong?”
Ororon shrugs. “Then you would have had to nurse my wound.”
“Will you have me do that for the rest of your life?”
“I can’t make you do anything anymore.”
Capitano very much doubts that assertion.
“Anyway, can I use that to convince Granny that you’ll leave altogether if we don’t go look for your friends?”
Capitano finds the idea that his departure would be in any way an incentive to let Ororon roam freely doubtful. “If anything, her knowing there is nothing stopping me from hurting you means she will want to keep an even closer eye on you.”
Ororon snorts. “Granny is smart. She knows I have nothing to fear from you. She’s just being overprotective. It’s as good a reason as any not to let me live by myself. Which I won’t be doing anymore, so she’ll have nothing to complain about.”
That could be considered presumptuous, the idea that Capitano will just move in with him without the topic even having been discussed.
It is not. He can’t think of anything he’d like better. “I will leave the convincing to you.”