Chapter Text
Gravel crunched under the teenagers feet. Gilbert pushing people out of his way as Theodore followed behind. Gilbert gritting his teeth at every interaction between the towns people. The townspeople being sickeningly sweet to Gilbert. Forced laughs as they offered free items to the boy. Yet when they thought Gilbert wasn’t looking their expressions turned sour as they looked at Theodore. Turning to each other and whispering as if they were discussing a criminal. Gilbert’s jaw started to ache. His hand tightening its hold, dragging Theodore along with him. Theodore greeted everyone with smiles that reached his eyes. He was practically bouncing as he walked with his friend who looked ready to commit a murder.
Reaching the outskirts of the town, Gilbert lets go of Theodores hand, throwing it behind him. Gilbert scoffing as he takes out his sword swiping down angrily at the grass. Hitting the ground repeatedly as if it would punish the towns people for him.
“Stupid people, can’t they understand we’re trying to help?” Gilbert complained, he felt Theodore’s hand grabbing his shoulder. The touch feeling like an oasis in a desert. Gilbert stills his movements, his hands clenching the handle of the sword.
“They just didn’t want it, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Théodore said softly. Gilbert noticed his voice was always soft. He was too kind to everyone. He just takes everything thrown at him!
Gilbert would say it’s surprising he’s still alive if it wasn’t for Gilbert himself protecting him since they met. He’s good company compared to the others such as Elizabeta or Roderich or Feliks. Well, only Feliks is someone Gilbert would willingly spend time with the other two are insufferable losers.
“They’re treating you like a criminal!” Gilberts word filled with frustration. He wasn’t used to people treating them poorly. He was used to fear, hesitation, and compliance. Yet here the townspeople were eying them both suspiciously.
Gilbert was the leader of his section of the Teutonic Knights; he was accommodated to people listening to him. Doing whatever he said. The only people who didn’t were Elizabeta and Roderich. Due to how annoying they are. At least they could hold their own against him, unlike the townspeople who scurried off the second Gilbert confronted them.
“We must give grace to everyone, even the ones who hurt us,” Theodore reminded him, gently grabbing Gilbert’s hand, Halting Gilbert from ruining the poor grass anymore.
Gilbert only let out a scoff at his words, sheathing his sword as the two continued to walk. Only Theodore would be the kind to forgive people so easily.
“Why are you so down? My mother always said the best thing to cheer someone up was singing,” Theodore chimed, Gilbert looked at him with an unconvincing look.
“No thanks,” walking side by side with Theodore at this point. Shaking his head at his friends' words.
“Aw come on, you never sing with me!” Theodore said playfully, tugging at Gilbert’s sleeve. Making them both come to a stop on the grass.
“I have too!” Gilbert retorted, allowing Theodore to tug on his sleeve.
“When?”
Silence was Gilberts only response, leaving Theodore in a fit of giggles.
“Shut up! I’m too awesome for singing anyways,” Gilbert’s face turning red from embarrassment. Gilbert’s red face only furthering the laughter.
With little force Gilbert pushes Theodore to dislodge his hold. Theodore stumbles backwards and grabs Gilberts arm to steady himself. Causing the two of them to tumble backwards.
“You didn’t have to pull me down with you” Gilbert grumbled as he rolled off Theodore, looking at his friend who was lying next to him.
Theodore couldn’t respond due to how hard he was laughing, his face red as he curled into himself. His whole body shaking from his fit. A small chuckle forced itself out of Gilbert’s mouth. Unable to feel irritated at him for long. Gilbert deciding to look at the sky while waiting for his friend to calm down.
After a few minutes Theodore finally ceases his laughing, staring at the clouds with Gilbert.
“What do you think that one looks like?” Theodore asks, pointing to a blob of a cloud. Gilbert looks at it.
“Nothing,” he says glancing at his friend.
“Really? I think it looks like a loaf of bread,” Theodore's hand coming to hold Gilberts. Theodore's hand was cold.
“No way! It’s just a dumb blob,”
“That’s no fun,” Theodore says squeezing Gilbert’s hand. “You don’t see anything?”
“We’re here to convert people, not to have fun,” Gilbert grumbled, squeezing Theodore’s hand back.
Theodores smile was small, not quite reaching his eyes. Squeezing Gilbert’s hand.
“Why not take a moment to rest?” Theodores voice suggests. Theodore shifts so he’s laying on his side, his eyes gazing at Gilbert’s face.
Gilbert raises his eyebrow, shifting to meet Theodore face to face.
“One moment? A moment for me and you,” Theodore continues, squeezing Gilbert’s hand again. His free hand coming to rest on the side of Gilbert’s cheek, brushing away the white strands. Gilberts breath stops at the motion. A warmth spreading in his chest that seems to wash away any questions.
“A moment for you and me,” Gilbert whispers back.
Gilbert can feel the warm breath of Theodore against his face, Looking at his friend closely. How warm is skin is, how gentle he is, how kind he is. How can he live through life so happily and freely. As if he can solve every problem in the world with music and optimism.
Theodore leans in close. In a flash his lips press against Gilbert’s cheek before pulling away. Making Gilbert’s face flush hot.
“I will always cherish this moment,” Theodore murmurs.
“And I will always cherish you” Gilbert responds. Squeezing his hand.
“Theodore Kiochenassamy,” a voice declared, ripping the boys from the moment. A crusader from the church stood before them. A long, hefty rope that was coiled together hanging on his shoulder.
Gilbert instantly jumped to his feet while Theodore pushed himself off the ground.
“Yes?” Theodore asked titling his head.
“Hear-by the words of the Pope, all members of the Templar Knights are to be disbanded,” the crusader said, Gilbert scoffed.
“Okay? What makes you think I haven’t told him that already?” Gilbert interjected, stepping in front of Theodore. The lie slipping out of his mouth by impulse. Why wasn’t he aware of this?! Of course no one bothered to tell him. They’re all idiots!
“It is considered hearsay to disobey the Pope,” the man said, Gilbert noticing more crusaders coming in from behind the man. Great just what they needed. More people to fight with.
“He hasn’t done anything wrong!” Gilbert shakes his head, his hands balling into fists.
“Then why is he with you?” The crusader gestured towards Theodore. Who has been quiet the entire time, unsure how he can even intervene during the quick debate,
“He’s helping me, it's part of my duty to help the people.” The other crusaders now fully standing with the man. Making a circle around Gilbert and Theodore.
“Last time I checked the Teutonic Knights have not been too keen on helping people, you are supposed to spread the lord’s word through any means necessary,” another crusader piped up. The man's grip tightened on the hilt of his sword. Gilbert pulling out his own sword in retaliation.
“Do not lie for this traitor,” one of the crusaders from the side says, walking up to them, roughly grabbing Theodore's arm. Dropping his sword Gilbert instinctively grabbed his friend's arm.
Gilbert only felt dread at the situation, his usual confidence gone. He knew what happened to people who were called heretics. Hearing their screams and pleads more times he can count. The crusader and Gilbert kept tugging on Theodore, who was getting knocked side to side due to the force on both ends.
“Gilbert, stop! Don’t sacrifice your name for me,” Theodore said, mumbling the last part of his sentence. Gilbert blinked in surprise. His hold lessening for a second. Allowing the crusader to fully pull Theodore towards himself. Gilbert steps forward, his arm outstretched to try and pull Theodore back.
The other crusaders grab Gilbert’s arm and pull him back, their grip not as harsh they were with Theodore but still firm. Dragging him backwards towards the town.
Two crusaders holding Theodore’s biceps as they lift him up and carry him back towards the town. Theodores head down seemingly resigned to his fate. It only filled Gilbert with more desperation. Some of the crusaders dedicated their time to setting up the giant wooden stake onto the cobblestone.
“Stop it! Please- “he cried out as the other knights held him back. He was only 14 while the others in their mid-twenties. They had an advantage. Something Gilbert did not like.
“Let go of me!” Gilbert tried to rip his arms out of their hold. The hold of the other Teutonic knights becoming tighter. Gilbert can already feel the bruises starting to form.
“Popes orders,” they said mindlessly.
The popes' words are Gods words. No one disrespects God.
“He can't do this! Theodore hasn’t done anything wrong!” He tried to argue, tried to ignore the tears stinging at his eyes as he watched. One of the crusaders swords coming to rest against the base of his neck, light pressure digging into his skin.
Théodore squirming in the hold of the crusaders as they brought him to the stake, being placed at the base. His arms pinned to his sides as they started to prepare the rope.
“Stop!” Gilbert shouted out again. He wasn’t used to this. No one listening to him. Damn crusaders, why did they have to show up here! Why? Why? Why why why why?
He watched as the men held Theodore down and tied him to a stake with rope. The rope tight yet looser around his arms. A crowd starting to gather at the noise and sight. Heretic burning was a spectacle to many. Watching disbelievers die like they were God himself.
“He has obeyed God! He has done nothing wrong!” Gilbert kept yelling, his vision getting blurry.
The men throwing logs at Theodores feet. Theodore having to try and dodge the logs from hitting him too hard, his white cloak becoming stained with dirt. Theodores eyes becoming shiny with tears. Gilbert kept struggling despite the pain in his arms and how wet his face was becoming.
The crusaders throw the last of the logs, grabbing a rock and some flint, creating sparks near the wood.
“You all are going to hell! Theodore has done nothing wrong!” Gilbert yelled at them, ignoring the pressure coming from the sword. They can slice his throat open all they want! They won’t dare to do anything like the cowards they are. His words falling on deaf ears as no one responded. Only glances of irritation and pity. “God will commend you all for watching! For being cowards!”
The flames ignited at Theodores feet as he let out a yelp, pushing his back closer as he stares down at the fire climbing towards him. Tears streaming down his face. His chest rising and down quickly as he inhales the smoke. Looking upwards at the crowd around him before locking eyes with Gilbert again. The sword finally releasing its hold on Gilbert’s throat, a small trickle of blood going down his chest.
The crusaders finally let Gilbert go as the fire climbs higher on Theodore’s body. The fire hungrily eating his cloak as it starts to crumble into ash. Theodore’s eyes filling with more tears as he smiles at Gilbert.
Gilbert reaches for his sword; he can cut the ropes! He grabs at nothing but air, fuck, his sword is on the outskirts. Maybe he can run and grab it quickly? No no no. That’ll take too longer. Gilberts eyes search the area desperately trying to find something that can help.
“Gilbert!” Theodore shouts towards him, quickly coughing from the smoke inhalation. Gilbert looks towards him, how his friend is crying and his face contorted in pain.
Theodore wiggles his arm, managing to loosen his left arm from the rope, he grabs his cross necklace. Holding it tightly and ripping it off, throwing it towards Gilbert.
“Keep this close, I’ll always be with you now! Even through heaven and earth!” Theodore shouts, his voice raspy.
Gilbert scrambles to catch it before it hits the ground. Tripping on his own feet faceplanting onto the ground. The necklace landing in front of him, he quickly picks it up. The hot metal burning his hands as he lets out a hiss of pain, clutching the necklace tightly to his chest as he sits onto his knees.
Another scream from Theodore makes Gilberts head snap up. Theodore's skin starting to turn a bright red. Nasty white blister starting to cover every inch of his skin; some popping as quickly as they formed due to the pressure of the heat. Revealing the raw flesh and muscle underneath his skin. Theodore’s screaming never stopping for a second even as the dark smoke filled his lungs. The screams echoing throughout Gilbert’s head.
Gilberts eyes wouldn’t look away from Theodore. His limbs being weighted down by lead. It felt like his blood turned into ice. His chest compressing, his breathing coming out ragged and sharp. Gilberts eyes are blurry, his face feels cold and wet. The spectators have started to leave, murmurs of it being too loud echoed against the walls.
Theodores screams seemed to never stop even as the fire fully engulfed him. The fire climbing up the stake, Gilbert’s eyes not moving from the site. His eyes starting to burn. From tears? From smoke? From the fact he hasn’t even blinked? Gilbert was unsure and his thoughts scrambled. His friend burning alive in front of him and his stupid body won’t move.
As the sky turned to a dusted pink and blue, the sun longing to sleep. Gilbert still sat there looking at the now ashes of what his friend used to be. The smell of burning meat and wood burning his nose. The taste of burning acid rising in his throat, clasping his hand over his mouth. Despite his efforts it pushed past his hand and spilled onto the cobble. Coughing up bile leaving his throat sore.
Footsteps quickly approached him, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder.
“Gilbert?” The weary voice of Feliks came from behind him. “We found your sword on the grass, what happened?”
Gilbert stood up wordlessly, turning around and harshly grabbing his sword from Feliks. Ignoring how gross his hand now is. How gross Gilbert is.
“Just another heretic burning,” Gilbert said, ignoring the shaking in his voice. How pathetic he must appear to the other knights.
“Are you okay-” Feliks tried again before getting swiftly interrupted.
“I’m fine! Let’s just go,” Gilbert shoulder checked Feliks as he walked out of the town. Hearing Feliks and the other knights quickly following him.