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Nom isn’t sure what he was thinking. Isn’t sure why he didn’t reject the words coming out of his mouth. Isn’t sure why he didn’t disagree with Cherri.
Well, that’s a lie. Gods, he’s full of those today.
The crown on top of Scott’s head is a glittering gold, shiny in a way that made him sick. That could never be a part of his hoard. He wants the mage, not the crown. Are those two things able to be separate? Is he able to cherish the other’s peridot eyes while avoiding the lilies weaved upon the other’s coronet?
He doesn’t think so.
Well, actually he knows so. He knows he can’t deal with the sudden authority the mage has.
Today proves that.
Cherri wants to spar with him, plain and simple, correct? Wrong, it’s not that simple. At least in Nom’s head it wasn’t. She’s a member of Red Kingdom, what will the king say? But she’s also Katie’s friend. She could protect her much easier than him. So he agrees.
Then Scott shows up right as Graecie leaves, eyes kind and curious. It’s a mask. “What are you two doing?” The king asks and Nom freezes, the malicious glint of the crown holding him in place, and suddenly it’s not Scott. It’s him, demanding to know where the knights went, even as a civilian he holds such great authority.
“Oh, we’re just going to finish a farkle game, Nom beat me last time and I want my gold back.” Liar, liar, liar.
The knight nods, “Yep.”
Hurt illuminates every edge of the blonde’s face, making the dragon want to do nothing more than take it back. Take every filthy letter, every dishonest action, back. Wants to hold him and apologize over and over again.
But, the king doesn’t know what they’re truly doing? Why is he so hurt over a farkle game?
He knows. He knows. He knows. It’s written all over every pained feature.
Then, Scott’s face holds an expression he’s never seen before—or lack of expression. Just…blank. Like he’s hit an impenetrable mental stone wall. Closed off.
Not a mage, but a king.
“Very well, don’t let me keep you.” His words are almost a snarl, or are they? No they’re not. They’re soft and slightly broken, but that doesn’t ruin the image the brunette’s created in his brain.
“Oathbreaker.” The former royal hisses. He’s not in charge, he can’t hurt you, the knight reminds himself. It’s late outside, the ex-ruler shouldn’t be at his house, shouldn’t be admonishing him. Nom has half a mind to slam the door in his face. He should, really.
But he doesn’t. “You should never have became a knight if you can’t follow simple orders.”
Cherri grabs his hand, and nearly drags him out the door. Scott shrinks in on himself to let them by, as if he wasn’t already doing that before.
Mae makes a muffled squeak as the door clicks shut and he’s dragging his feet and their bodies across the floor, blood—
“You good?” The Solunan princess asks, letting go of his hand, and it’s just another crown on top someone’s head. But she’s not a close friend. She’s not his mage. She’s a mage but not his.
Scott’s not yours either, especially after that, you sorry excuse for a dragon.
“Yeah. Why did you lie?”
“Panicked, you?”
“…Panicked.” With a sigh, Nom opens the door to get out of the castle, making an after-you gesture to the auburn.
“Oh such chivalry.” Cherri mocks, bowing. The knight (if he can call himself that) would laugh if he wasn’t so distracted by the sharp edged peridots staring him down in his mind, pain laced in the expression.
It’s wrong, it’s so wrong.
Scott deserves to smile, not be hurt by a shoddy knight, a bloody killer, an egotistic dragon.
Nom isn’t worthy of seeing the gold speckles dance in the other’s eyes, or the angelic smile that sharpens his face into something that death can’t even comprehend the beauty of.
Gods, he gets poetic when talking about Scott, but it’s true. It’s inevitable he was going to fuck up, and Scott shouldn’t have to deal with that pain. Shouldn’t ever have to deal with any pain again. Nom isn’t doing his job.
He’s not protecting his the mage. He’s just causing more grievances for the other to deal with.
“So…where do we do this?” The dragon considers the mountaintop, where he trained Scott, and immediately he feels like bashing his head into the bridge. That’s their spot with their memories. He won’t taint it with lies and the princess’ blood.
“The beach,”
The auburn nods and they continue, both lost in their own thoughts. Bright green eyes haunt Nom’s every step.
Why did he have to become a damn king?
Is it still Scott under the crown? Under the power? Is it—
Half of his brain screeches at him. Of course it is, why else would he be so hurt?
The other half is just as brutal. It’s fake, you’ve watched time and time again rulers get lost to power. What makes Scott any different?
Because it’s Scott. A mage. A traumatized florist that’s been through hell and back and still finds a way to be the light in everyone’s day. Who still believes in the greater good. Who still believes you are a good person despite the awful things you’ve done.
Power changes people.
Who said it changed Scott?
Who said it didn’t?
You haven’t even given him a chance! You’ve been avoiding him since the coronation!
You probably won’t even get a chance now to be honest. Just wait, he’ll show you what power does to a man when you get back.
No he won’t.
He will, just you wait.
“This feels a bit public right now, seeing as the fishing market just opened up. Wouldn’t it be better to do this elsewhere?”
Salty air stings the brunette’s nostrils, and he shakes his head.
“It’s going to be nightfall soon, and we won’t want to do it during the night.” He knows that from experience. “We can just go further down the shoreline.”
The princess nods her head in agreement, leaving Nom to follow behind the royalty. “Here?”
“Yes.” The dragon tosses her a wooden sword, it feeling heavy in his palm, and yet like deja-vu.
“You want to hold it like this.” Nom demonstrates the correct posture on his own sword, stance at the ready. Cherri is quick to follow. Fast learner, just like—
Shut up.
“The most basic movements I can teach you is a strike or a parry. So to strike you…” The brunette starts tuning out his own voice, droning and kind of boring to him.
It wasn’t like this with Scott.
He likes Cherri, he does. She’s just not… well, she’s not Scott. She’s not blonde with lilies in her hair and a constant smile on her face. She doesn’t smell like the new beginnings of dawn and blossoming flowers. She doesn’t have gorgeous peridot eyes that he just wants to drown in.
But the mage is probably mad at him, if his reaction to this was anything to go off of.
And he deserves it.
Suddenly they’re moving, the auburn’s sword clumsily clashing against his. He hears his own voice giving her tips to make her blows stronger. It all feels so distant.
Then they stop? The sudden quiet is new to him, enough to bring him back to reality. Cherri looks…frightened possibly? At something just over his shoulder. He turns around and—oh.
“Well, this doesn’t look like farkling to me.” Mae crouches behind the king, like a child hiding behind their parent during a thunderstorm. The other’s green eyes are…angry? No they’re not angry. Nom wants to believe they are, but they’re not. Scott holds no malice, except when people trample his crops.
That was the first time he heard the mage swear, yelling at Owain about respecting nature, and the hard work he does for this kingdom only for the other civilians to ruin it.
Nom almost smiles at the memory before remembering the very-real, possibly-angry-or-disappointed blonde in front of him. It’s a lot less fun to be on the end of Scott’s anger than watch it burn.
“Why did you lie to me?”
“I didn’t mean to lie, I just—”
“Didn’t tell the truth.” The other cuts him off. The brunette can’t really blame him.
“I’m sorry, alright? I just thought you wouldn’t want me training a member of Red Kingdom.”
Scott throws up his hands, like the very thought is exasperating. “And instead of letting me react, you thought you’d lie to my face? Also, you should know better than anyone here that I do not care for this war, you can befriend whoever you’d like Nominal.” The words make the knight tense. He never says my actual name.
Suddenly the princess beside him speaks. “I’m sorry as well, I didn’t mean to cause a rift between you two.”
“It’s not your fault I just…” Scott trails off as a certain lion approaches within his boat, looking particularly proud despite the distance and his mask. Why does he always show up during every interaction he has with the mage?
“Guys,” Owain lugs his boat onto the shore, and basically skips to them, which is very uncharacteristic of him. Nom vaguely wonders if the real Owain died and someone else took his armor. “You won’t believe the fish I caught.”
The dragon turns to look at Cherri, who offers a confused shrug, sharing his same baffled expression. Then Scott, who refuses to look at him specifically, and finally Mae, who stares at the ground like her life depends on it. Then back to Owain.
The mage finally fills the tense silence. “That’s lovely, tell me more.” Ever the diplomat.
“Well, I—“ He begins excitedly, before cutting himself off. “Hm, I feel as though I’m interrupting something. Like some sort of standoff. Why are you guys so far apart from each other?” The lion stands directly in the middle, glancing at both groups.
Nom and Scott begin speaking at the same time as Mae and Cherri shuffle awkwardly at their sides.
“We’re not—” The other begins as the knight states his part.
“Everything’s fine.”
The blonde shoots him a glare that could cut through ice.
Mae, who’d stayed quiet for the length of most of this…interaction, lets out a high pitched squeak before running away. That earns the interest of everyone besides Scott, who simply just sighs.
“What’s her deal?” Owain asks what’s on everyone’s mind.
“Just…really bad with tension.”
The lion nods like this makes complete sense. “I fear I am as well. Goodbye all, I’m going to bring my fish matters to someone who cares.” The brunette doesn’t object it, and neither does the blonde, surprisingly.
He looks…he looks exhausted, and the crown on his head no longer looks nearly as intimidating, and rather heavy, like it’s weighing on the sweet, innocent mage.
Nom should apologize. Sincerely do so. But he finds himself just staring at the retreating form of the other knight, waiting for Scott to make the first attempt at conversation. Luckily, the other does so quite quickly.
“You do know that I attempted to train Cherri at the beginning of this, right? Why would I mind you sparring with her?”
I don’t know! “Well, because you’re a king now, you have a kingdom to protect.”
The laughter from Scott is harsh, not the kind melody he’s used to. Cherri glances at Nom, concerned. “Is that what this is about? I’m a king so now you can’t trust me? I have a silly piece of metal on my head and now we can’t have a friendship?”
“Well how do I know whether or not I’m talking to the ruler or my friend?”
“Because you know me! If I knew that taking on this crown would vastly change your opinion on me I wouldn’t have done it! I did this because I had the belief that I could better the kingdom, not do what Frogue did!” The words were so painfully Scott, it actually made Nom wince a little.
“I’m sorry that you feel that way.”
“But you’re not sorry that you caused that. Whatever. I hope your guys’ training session ends better than ours.”
And with that, he whisks himself away, brushing past the knight, his arm bumping the others.
Nom has been giving the cold shoulder before metaphorically, but never has he felt such a lack of warmth where Scott had barely touched him. He really fucked up this time, didn’t he?