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Felix fucking hated his Ancient History class more than he hated anything else. Except maybe Economics. And waking up early. And bees. Okay, so Felix hated a lot of things but history fucking sucked. Who wanted to learn about a bunch of old dead guys anyway.
Professor Doyle, that’s who.
“This war, the war we have henceforth called the Great War, changed the way that future military operations conducted themselves. Even though it happened hundreds of years in the past, it still shapes the way we look at things today. There are always, two sides to every story. Does anyone know the two sides to this one?” Doyle asked, his big eyes scanning the room from behind his glasses.
Dick Simmons, kiss-ass extraordinaire, raised his hand. “The Prince and his Captain, sir.”
“Correct! Yes, this tale is about the beloved Prince of the land, a great leader, who stayed with his army until his last breath, and his loyal Captain of the Guard, a valiant warrior who had an escape route secured for his Prince. The Prince, sadly, did not make it to this escape route. Some say, that the Prince was right in staying behind with his army, sort of a ‘Captain goes down with his ship’ thing. Others say that the Prince should have fled with his Captain, ‘live to fight another day’ and all that. So, let’s discuss this!” Doyle turned his back to the class and began scribbling something on the white board behind him.
‘The Prince or the Captain’ was written in bright red that sent discomfort through Felix’s gut for some reason. He was probably just ready for his break early, probably just hungry.
“Who do you think was right?” Professor Doyle asked, addressing the entire room.
For a long moment, nobody spoke up. Murmurs rustled the room, tiny discussions here and there to ferret out the right answer.
Oddly enough, it was Locus, a monstrous sonofabitch who never really spoke to anyone, that answered. Felix wasn’t actually sure he’d ever heard him speak before, despite having been in many of the same class for the last two years. Apparently they had chosen similar majors but that didn’t mean Felix knew the guy
“I think the Prince was in the right in this instance,” he said, his voice deep and rich, captivating Felix. “He was a leader and he should have been there with his army to guide them. He died in a blaze of glory that inspired his soldiers to fight harder, to die for him as he died for them. It inspired his country to rebel in the coming years. His death was far more valuable than his life ever was.”
Professor Doyle seemed pleased but Felix didn’t notice as a white-hot flare of angry shot through him. “That’s wonderful, Locus, thank you. It’s nice to see you contributing. Now, do we have any votes for the Captain-“
“The Prince was an idiot,” Felix spat, glaring at a particularly interesting bit of wall. “The Captain had a way for him to escape, a way for him to live. He could have done so much more for his country if he’d just ran. Sure, he may have ‘inspired’,” he scoffed, catching Locus’ indignant expression in the corner of his eye – and wasn’t that funny, “his people but a lot of shit happened after he died. His country was over-taken by the enemy and they didn’t acquire their freedom for years. The Prince was a selfish asshole who didn’t even think of his people before he went off and sacrificed himself for nothing-“
Felix cut off when there was a loud bang and his looked to his right to Locus glaring right back with his shockingly grey eyes, his fist curled against his desk
“The Prince couldn’t have possibly known all of that was to come,” the boy ground out and Felix felt his nerves sharpening with every word. “I’m sure he thought his decision was-“
“You interrupted me for that? Please. The Prince was a fool who wouldn’t listen to his Captain, who was clearly the better tactician-“
“O-kay! Okay. Settle down now. I must say, bravo to you both. You each brought up some excellent points and provided very thorough perspectives! I love how you seemed to just get into the head of who you were defending. But that’ll be all for today.” A murmur broke out through the room and everyone, previously frozen in the midst of the debate, began to disperse to their other classes. “Brilliant job today everyone! We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow.”
Felix stood up, gathered his things into his bag, and headed out of the room as quickly as possible because what the fuck was that? He’d never given a flying rat’s ass about history before and there he was getting into arguments with some prick he didn’t even know about some bullshit that happened hundreds of fucking years ago. Why had he gotten so pissed?
It bothered him for the rest of the day, like a prickling in the back of his head, something that couldn’t be ignored as he went through the motions of school. Finally, when he was home, locked away inside the safety of his apartment, Felix booted up his computer and keyed up a search engine.
‘the great war’_
He clicked on the first website and, despite his original plan of just skimming it, he read every word. It was mostly just stuff that Professor Doyle had already told them about so he went back to refine his search.
‘the great war, prince’_
The first and second website were much the same as the one he’d already read but, finally, he found what he was looking for in the third.
The Prince was said to be a kind and benevolent ruler, a respected leader of his army, and good friends with his Captain of the Guard. The two were said to have been inseparable, as crucial to one another as the sun was to the earth. The Prince was an intimidating warrior, having been taught from a young age to defend himself. He was said to be a master swordsman, matched only by the Captain of his army. They were rivals, friends, and partners.
Other notable facts:
- The Prince was the only child of the late King and Queen
- The Prince was right-handed
- The Prince primarily wielded a longsword although, some sources have claimed that he preferred to wield axes or even a spear though these are unlikely due to the known weaponry crafted in the country
- It is said that his favorite food was apples and-
Wait. Felix read the last line over and over again, trying to understand why that seemed so distinctly wrong to him. The Prince’s favorite food was definitely persimmons, he thought, though when he tried to recall where he’d read that, he came up blank.
“What the fuck am I doing?” he muttered to himself, shaking his head in hopes of shaking away the rest of the stupid history lesson.
“Fucking history,” he spat as he reached for his remote and flicked on his TV, not really caring about the channel so long as it let him stop thinking about stupid Princes and their stupid Captains.
- - - - -
Locus was… confused. Where his little outburst had come from, he could not say. It wasn’t like him to let his anger get the better of him but Felix, the scrawny man with the undercut who seemed to all but rule their college, had dragged something ugly out of him. Sure he’d never been a fan of the man’s incessant chatter or the way some of the other students thought he walked on water but he’d never outright hated him. Never been bothered about seeing him at dorm parties with woman and men hanging off of him. But when Felix had said those things about the Prince… well, something in Locus had snapped.
But he couldn’t figure out why. What about the situation had upset him? What could have prompted such a response from him?
It ground on Locus’ nerves for the rest of the day until he settled down in the library after his last class and logged into one of the computers.
He opened a search engine and tried:
‘The Prince and the Captain, the Great War”_
And found a lot of information, to say the least.
The Prince and the Captain of the Guard were an inseparable and formidable duo. Tactically, they were said to work with precision and skill that well exceeded their individual talents. It was said that, despite their camaraderie, the two were often in competition and the friendship was actually thought to have been an act, hiding the animosity they felt for one another – though it did not stop them from working together flawlessly.
The Captain was said to be of quick-temper and even recklessness at times. His only counter seemed to be the Prince, who guided these reckless actions into expert battle strategy. Some say that the two together made, quite possibly, the perfect soldier - one the sword, the other the shield. But when the Prince died in the Great War, the Captain fell not long after, whether from grief or his own haste no one knows.
Known facts about the Captain:
- He was born a noble but was orphaned after a tragedy that took his parents from him. It was said that he was raised in the palace and trained to fight in the Prince’s army as per the King’s judgment
- The Captain was said to be proficient in an early style of knife throwing though he was best known for his use of the sword.
- He was said to be a left-handed swordsman, a rarity in his time, and had a left-handed sword crafted specially for him. He died clutching his beloved weapon in-
That’s not true, Locus thought, frowning at the screen. The Captain had most certainly been ambidextrous. Just because he died with a left-handed sword, holding the weapon in his left hand didn’t make him left handed. He’d always wielded twin blades and was more than capable of throwing knives with either his left or right hand, he thought hotly. He knew that because-
Why did he know that?
He searched his thoughts, thinking that he must have read it somewhere, a book, another website, somewhere, but he couldn’t think of anything. Still, he knew it to be true, knew the website to be wrong.
He closed the site and logged off the computer, thinking that maybe he just needed a break from history. Clearly he was spending far too much time reading up on the Great War.
Still. The thought about the Captain, that blatantly wrong information on the website… He’d bring it up to Professor Doyle tomorrow.
- - - - -
Felix couldn’t get the stupid ‘Great War’ story out of his fucking head. It sat in the back of his mind the entire night, tugging him back into his own head. He’d remembered several more ‘facts’ about the Prince that he was positive he must have read somewhere but everything he looked up on his computer left him confused. The details varied from site to site but none were right.
Finally, after the bell rang ending another stupid discussion about the idiot Prince and his stupid Captain, Felix headed up to Doyle’s desk.
“Hey, Doyle,” he started, smirking when the Professor pouted, clearly displeased, “so, you know that a bunch of these so called ‘facts’ about the Prince are just wrong? I did a little digging and there’s just so much misinformation, you know?” he told the man, going for nonchalance as he leaned against the teacher’s desk.
“He’s right.” Felix looked up quickly to see Locus, standing by the open door, looking like he had just been about to leave. “The Captain wasn’t actually left-handed like the texts claim. He was ambidextrous.
“Right… Well, the Prince wasn’t an only child after all. He’d had a younger sister who ran away as a child. When they couldn’t find her, they erased her from their history,” Felix told the professor, though he never took his pointed gaze off of the other man. As brown eyes met grey, Felix’s stomach twisted uncomfortably but he ignored it.
Locus rose to the challenge, making the corner of Felix’s mouth pull up as the towering man walked further into the room. “The King wasn’t the one to invite the Captain into the palace, it was the Prince who’d made the request, who’d seen the Captain’s potential,” Locus all but growled and Felix was definitely smiling now because, wow, this guy could actually be fun!
Neither of them seemed to notice how pleased Doyle looked as he watched the two. “This is marvelous, both of you! Who knew you’d be so interested in history. I was going to assign a partnered project tomorrow on the Great War and it looks to me like you two have already found a worthy subject.” Felix turned to give Doyle an incredulous look because how was he supposed to work with mister tall, dark, and terrifying? “I think it’d be fascinating to see just what else you both can dig up on the true history of the Prince and the Captain.”
And that’s how Felix got stuck with Locus as his stupid partner for their dumb assignment. He and Locus started meeting up after classes, on their days off, first at the library (Felix proved to be far too loud when he got excited or bored or angry or always) and then at Locus’ dorm.
Locus’ dorm was pristine to say the least. You could clearly tell he took pride in keeping it clean. Which honestly just made Felix want to mess it up all the more. It was around the third time Felix wrinkled up Locus’ bed and the sixth can of soda he’d left on various surfaces that Locus kicked him out.
They started meeting at Felix’s place after that - which had never been in the plan because he hated having people over – but with Locus he didn’t mind so much.
Felix’s apartment was small and sparsely furnished, though he kept it clean – something that probably surprised Locus though he made no reaction to this. Still, it was his and his alone and at least Locus didn’t try and snoop through his crap or ask about the mismatched furniture. Locus didn’t ask anything.
Which may have been why Felix enjoyed his company so much. They’d spent a lot of time together in the last few weeks between classes and working on the history project and he’d gotten used to having that familiar, quiet, presence at his side. Locus, for his part, put up with a good portion of Felix’s shit and maybe it was when he didn’t put up with it that Felix liked him best because, well, no one had really told him to shut up and meant it before. He would let Felix chatter on for ages before it got on his nerves and he was briskly told to ‘shut up, Felix, or I swear-‘ though nothing ever happened. Still, Felix found himself leaving his big circle of ‘friends’ just to seek out Locus wherever he’d hidden himself that day - the library, the little wall out on the quad, a quiet corner of the school – and pull up a spot next to him. It was probably a fucking sight to see the 6’4 giant with a scrawny little 5’5 leech clinging to his side but Felix was having fun so he didn’t really give a shit.
He had to say, they’d made good progress on the project, tearing through books and articles and pulling truths out of their asses that they knew were true. Which had actually thrown Felix for a bit of a loop because if he just understood that the things he said were true then how did Locus? How could they both be so sure and yet be unable to site a goddamn source? It was honestly making Felix a little ill just thinking about it.
They agreed on a lot, mostly on little facts that one of them would drop onto the table and the other would add to, throwing in their knowledge, but they argued a lot more. Small ones at first, like whether the Prince had been afraid of snakes – “He most certainly was not”, Locus claimed – or if the Captain had been too impulsive during a known battle in the War – “He did it and it fucking worked okay? Get off of his back,” Felix griped – but they always came back to that last battle, the Prince’s defeat. It was where they were again that day.
“I just don’t get it, okay? The escape route was perfect, easy to get to, no enemies in sight, and that dumb Prince wouldn’t fucking leave. What the hell is that about?” Felix muttered, toying absently with one of the drawstrings on Locus’ green hoodie as the larger man scribbled words onto their shared notebook at Felix’s bistro table.
Locus sighed, knowing he shouldn’t take the bait but that he would anyway because he had to defend the Prince, something made him, something pulled him to defend the decisions the Prince had made. “He did what he thought was right for his people, Felix. He died trying to make his Kingdom a better place, a united force against the opposing forces.”
“He was a fuckin’ moron,” the smaller man hissed, scowling now like the bauble between his fingertips had offended him.
“You always say that,” Locus growled lowly, feeling his anger rising hotly under his skin, “but you know what Felix? He wasn’t. He was a smart man, a good leader, and he made a decision. He did what he had to do regardless of what the Captain wanted!”
“Fuck that bullshit,” Felix snarled, throwing the hoodie string back in Locus’ face as he stood, wanting to tower over the sonofabtich. “Fuck all of that! I loved you so goddamn much and you just went out there and died like that! You could have lived if you weren’t so damned full of pride, if you didn’t feel like you needed to prove your dumb ass to everyone! Why couldn’t you have just trusted me to protect you!?” His breath came out heavy, weighted with his anger and grief and Felix was surprised to find tears in his eyes. And for his part, Locus sat there wide-eyed and quiet, not quite sure what to say.
He nearly collapsed with the realization of what he’d said.
“Fuck, um, I-I mean he… The Captain – he loved… the Prince. The Captain c-could have, you know, uh, protected the Prince,” Felix forced out with a strangled laugh. Locus still stared, still watched as the smaller man flushed hotly and tried to wipe away his tears as discreetly as possible. “Sorry, fuck, I uh, ha, I thought about changing majors you know? Going for acting, yeah,” he rambled, letting his mouth run because that was clearly the only fucking thing it was good for. “What can I say? I live for the stage.” This time, when he laughed, it almost sounded real.
He stood up from the table, closing his laptop and the books in front of him, feeling like they were scalding his fingertips as they brushed over the pages. “We should probably call it a night. You’ve got class in the morning and I have… yeah, stuff.”
Locus didn’t protest, just packed up his laptop and the few other things he’d brought though he didn’t really take his eyes off of Felix. It made his skin crawl and his fingers itch, like he wanted to reach out and stop Locus from leaving. He shoved his fists deep into his hoodie pockets.
He walked Locus to the door, refusing to meet his eyes as he smiled and waved but he stopped when Locus looked like he might say something. Maybe he’d want to stay, to tell Felix that he wasn’t crazy for the strange rush of emotions he’d just felt. But he turned away and Felix closed the door.
- - - - -
He didn’t open up another text or history website again for weeks, he couldn’t. It burned his hands just to hold the books, made his eyes water, his heartbeat absolutely skyrocket. He skittered with anxiety at the mere thought of the Great War.
That he could handle but Locus, well, Locus made things difficult.
After his outburst, Locus had tried to call Felix, to text him, but Felix ignored his phone, avoided it like it was a spider in his room. The next day, he didn’t sit beside Locus like he used to and he slipped out of class before Locus had even gotten out of his seat, ran to his next room so that he wouldn’t have to speak to the other man. He didn’t know what else his useless mouth would say so he strictly avoided conversation.
It wasn’t until three weeks into avoiding Locus that he appeared at his door and honestly Felix was surprise because he really expected him sooner.
He put on his best face, slightly annoyed, a small smile, all charm, and answered the door. It actually took Felix a moment to look at Locus and how tired he actually seemed, wondering how long it’d really been since they’d spoken face to face. He would have guessed months, painful months, not weeks.
“Listen,” the man dove right in, determination behind his tired eyes that made something inside Felix do a little flip-flop. “If you’re going to avoid me, at least be an adult about it and tell me. Our project is due this week and I’m not going to get a zero because you’re acting like a child.
Whatever emotion Felix had been feeling disappeared and he scowled at Locus, closing the door a little more. “Fine, I’ve been avoiding you, so what? This fucking project is bullshit and a waste of my goddamn time. I don’t give a shit about the Prince and his stupid Captain anyways, so…” he trailed off, something inside of him making him unable to meet Locus’ eyes. There was something there when he’d mentioned the Prince, the fucking stupid, stupid, stupid Captain, that made Felix’s gut twist. Something like sadness, like pity, something Felix never wanted to see in Locus’ face ever again.
“That’s an outright lie if I’ve ever heard one. Thought you were supposed to be a good actor,” Locus mumbled, and Felix’s blood boiled. He slammed the door in the other man’s face and waited for his footsteps to fall away, forcing down the bile in his throat. It took longer than it probably should have before he heard heavy boots down the hall.
- - - - -
If Locus were honest, he might have missed the constant presence of Felix at his side. The little man had irked him, crawled under his skin and made him want to put his fist through a wall. He told too many lies, got his own way with too many people, and really needed to learn to shut the hell up. But it turned out that Felix was also funny, charming in a way that wasn’t actually obnoxious, smart as a whip and dedicated. Right up until everything caved in anyways.
The word ‘love’ had come out of left field for Locus and in the first few seconds he’d been shocked, so shocked by Felix’s outburst. But after the initial wave, he found himself wanting to comfort him, to wipe away Felix’s tears and tell him he loved him too. But that wasn’t Locus, he didn’t love Felix, he just didn’t. They’d only been what he’d call ‘friends’ for a few weeks, a month tops, and that didn’t usually mean love. It hadn’t even been ‘love at first sight’ or whatever the fairy tales used to say because he’d been just this side of hating Felix in that first argument during Ancient History.
So why was he having dreams about Felix?
They weren’t Felix exactly but they were definitely Felix. He’d recognize that smug smile, those sharp eyes, that air of superiority anywhere. The fact that Felix was wearing strange clothing and armor and that he was missing his undercut were what threw him off. And that he was kissing Felix.
It was too real, too much like a memory rather than a dream, but Locus didn’t care. Felix’s lips were warm and soft and Locus could feel the smug curve of his mouth so he did his best to lick it off. In the dream, loving Felix wasn’t a conscious decision, it was just something that was, something that he was. He was in love with Felix and nothing would have told his dream-self otherwise.
He watched the smaller man for what felt like the first time, a knife twirling between his fingers, leaving his hand like lightning and embedding itself into a tree. He’d loved that man in that moment, needed him like air, so he’d requested to have him brought to the palace, trained as one of his army. He’d claimed he’d seen potential, which, really, he had because that move with the knife took skill and patience to learn, but he’d just wanted the man nearer to him in any way that was possible.
They were like an explosion together – air igniting in an instant, consuming everything in their wake, suffocating, and leaving scorch marks on each other in a way that Locus knew he’d never forget in a hundred lifetimes. They were flawless, seamlessly integrated on the battlefield, in their training, in their love for one another.
He remembered mourning the absence of his partner on his right in that last battle, knew that together they were unbeatable, alone he was vulnerable. He needed to fight though, to take a stand because his troops were scared and they needed the reassurance of their prince. How could he leave? But he knew his partner, his Captain, was somewhere in the fight, somewhere Locus knew he needed to be.
He felt a searing burn, not the loving fire of his partner, a blaze of pain and anguish as a sword pierced his side. He didn’t think of his men, the soldiers under his command, of the people, his subjects, that he’d leave behind. As his vision darkened he thought of the Captain, his partner, his lover, his friend. He thought of how he wanted one last kiss, one more touch to carve his love into his partner’s skin. If he could just remind his Captain one last time of how much he loved him, maybe his dumb lover wouldn’t go and do anything reckless.
He was just fooling himself in his last moments.
Locus would wake up in his bed, shot upright and dripping in sweat, scrambling for skin next to him and wanting to scream and cry when he could find none. He wasn’t supposed to be alone, no, it was wrong, all wrong. Except-
No. That was wrong too. He didn’t sleep with anyone.
He had to have been reading too many texts, too much about the Great War. It’d all been leaking into his dreams, making him see things that weren’t true. See Felix as the Captain.
That had to be it.
Right?
The dreams didn’t stop. In fact, they only seemed to get worse. Images of Felix with twin swords, their edges deadly like their wielder; of Felix with a bundle of orange flowers held out to Locus’ face, his charming grin tainted by a hint of uncertainty that Locus wanted to kiss away; of Felix sprawled out underneath him on sage sheets, face flushed and eyes bright with love and life.
The feeling only grew stronger when Locus saw Felix across the classroom or lecture hall, no longer in the seat on his right where he used to be. When he met Felix’s eyes in the hallways, he wanted so desperately to grab him, to shake some sense into him, to kiss him – No. Wait. Yes. Yes, he definitely wanted to kiss Felix and that alone should have made Locus abandon all thought of Felix and the Great War and Captains and Princes.
Instead, he headed for Felix’s, feeling much the same as he did a few days before when Felix slammed the door in his face. He expected much the same this time.
He was surprised when he wasn’t immediately rejected but Felix’s face was anything but welcoming. Still, Locus thought he might have seen something in his eyes, something Locus had been feeling pretty strongly these days.
“Can I come in?” he asked because he didn’t really want to have this conversation in the hall and it seemed like Felix understood. Of course he did.
“What do you want, Locus? I’m sick of talking about the stupid war so if you’re here about the project, well, I’ll fuckin’ tell Doyle that it was my fault we didn’t finish, okay?” Felix huffed, not meeting Locus’ eyes, just staring past him with a surly face. He jumped when Locus moved into his space, looked like a cornered animal and Locus lifted his hands to show he meant no harm.
“You told me you loved me-“
“I said that the Captain-“
“Felix, be quiet for two minutes, would you?” Locus growled and Felix fumed but stayed silent and really, what a miracle that was. “You said that you loved me and I just wanted you to know that I understand. I’ve been… dreaming,” he felt like a moron spouting nonsense but he pressed on, “I keep dreaming about the Great War, about being there and dying as the Prince had. I dreamt about you,” Felix’s eyebrows jumped and Locus smiled, “I dreamt about loving you, the Prince and the Captain, loving each other.”
“We don’t even know each other,” Felix mumbled though he sounded uncertain and Locus leapt on that uncertainty.
“Maybe we do.”
Their kiss was exactly as he remembered in his dreams, warm, gentle, soft, and all Felix. Felix all but climbed Locus like a tree and mashed their lips together.
Locus saw stars.
Stars and another world where he’d dressed in silver and green, mourned the loss of a sister, of his parents. A world where he did his best for his subjects, for people that looked up to him, that needed him to keep them safe. Of loyal men and woman that trained with him, fought with him, protected him.
He saw Felix. Felix without his undercut and wearing beautiful robes of orange and grey, the feeling of hidden knives under Locus’ fingers. Felix sparring with him, playful but deadly in a way that was strictly him. Felix pressing kisses into his skin, words of love and adoration. Felix with Locus’ mother’s ring on his finger, a promise for another day.
It left him, dizzy, reeling, or maybe that was just the kiss but Locus remembered.
When they broke apart, heaving for breath, Felix hugged him so fiercely, seemingly unconcerned about being in Locus’ arms, though the bigger man didn’t mind. “Holy fucking shit, you asshole, you fucking died on me. What were you thinking?” Felix croaked, his voice thick with emotion.
Locus held him tighter, relishing in the feeling of having Felix in his arms again. “I was trying to find you, actually,” Locus told him, chuckling to himself as he pressed a kiss into Felix’s exposed neck. “You weren’t on the field with me so I was trying to find you.”
“I wanted to find a way out for you, fuck, I wanted you to be safe. I left you to die alone,” Felix all but sobbed into Locus’ shoulder and he was sure he could feel tears soaking his shirt now.
“You did what you thought was right, Isaac.” Isaac, Felix, they were the same person after all. “I was too distracted trying to find you and I didn’t see the soldier. You always did watch my right, my love,” he murmured, settling down onto the couch with Felix in his lap.
“There was so much blood.” The words were just a whisper as fingers ran over Locus’ side. “All I could see was red, Sam. I don’t even remember dying, you know? It was just red. I didn’t last very long without you.” Felix chuckled without humor and with tears in his eyes, moved his fingers up to brush across Locus’ face. “You’re missing your scars, my Prince. Makes you look younger.”
“We haven’t led a very battle heavy life this time around have we?” Locus couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and running his mouth along Felix’s jaw. He had his Captain, his lover, his partner back and he would not waste another second of their time together.
“Call it a break. We’ll get back into the action next time around.”
Yes. Yes, they would.