Prompt #3 - "Summer time" (july '19)

[Kris]

July's 3rd prompt is
"Summer time"

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[ArtisticVicu]

Noises bombarded him from every side - shouts of pain or cries of attacks, the constant crackling of fires no matter where he turned, the ring of metal against metal, the thunderous rumbles of stone walls collapsing - were drowned out by his pulse in his ears.

"There's nothing more we can do."

There was a strange heaviness to the silence and those within the room gave the speaker desperate looks. Whatever they were expecting never came to pass because despair quickly took over and they started to crumble inward.

He shook his head, adamant as he countered, "There has to be something. We can't just accept this."

"What else is there to do!" one of the old men barked. He met that old man's glare with a steady gaze. "You're a fool to believe there's anything left. We've lost, boy. Accept it."

"No," he stated, standing firm. "I'll die a fool before I roll over just because we're out of ideas." His gaze returned to the original speaker. "There has to be something we can do to delay them long enough to let us regroup and try again. Please, Lord Nero. There has to be something."

A chunk of the floor above came down around him and his shoulder collided painfully with the stone wall as he dodged the flaming debris. Cursing, he kicked at a burning beam blocking his way. If he didn't free himself now, he'd be too late.

If he wasn't already.

"Father."

He brought his gaze up from the fire he was staring at, watching as the daughter of Lord Nero closed the door. Lord Nero rose from his chair and crossed to meet her. Her hands sought his as he asked, "What is it, my dear?"

"There was talk about not having a plan, of how everyone was going to die." Despite the unease in her words, her expression was hard, determined. "Is that true? Is there nothing more you can do?"

Lord Nero shook his head. "We are almost out of resources and the numerous amounts of injured and dead that have dwindled our numbers. Unless I can convince others to join our cause, we will not survive another attempt."

"What if I could get you the time?"

The beam finally gave and he stumbled over loose stone into the once again clear hallway. He took off at a run, his throat tight.

He should have fought it. He should have figured out a different plan. This wasn't right. This wasn't fair!

"I don't know if this will work."

He glanced at her without turning his head, feigning interest in the celebration before them. The ballroom was packed with people and tables, the center floor that had been clear for people to dance packed with twirling bodies. There were so many colors from all of the gowns, it was like getting slapped in the face by a rainbow and then some. He wasn't sure how much longer he could refrain from doing something that would compromise their mission. "Say the word and I will take you right back to your father," he promised. He shifted forward, a smile on his face as he gave her a coy look. "But I would suggest at least giving him a chance to dance with you. He's been eyeing you all night."

She sniffed in distaste. "He should have the balls to come ask me for a dance regardless of how hot my escort is."

He laughed at that, a full, rich laugh that hadn't escaped him in a very long time. He grinned at her. "Come now, m'Lady. It is nothing if not rude to be biased like that. I am, after all, practically your brother. Saying such things would give others the wrong impression."

She sniffed again but the gleam in her eyes told him he had been successful in shifting her mood. "I still think he could do better."

He chuckled, glancing to the man - well, young man the same age as him, if he was not mistaken - they were speaking about and smiled. "It would seem he has finally gained those balls you so eloquently stated he needed to grow."

Silence settled between them as the young man approached. He watched as the young man's eyes strayed from the young woman at his side to him a few times but gave his full attention to her when he approached.

He watched them walk out onto the dance floor, a bitter taste in his mouth as loathing and disgust for that young man churned in his gut.

He bodily slammed into the door and nearly lost his footing when it gave under his weight. The room was eerily empty considering that the whole ordeal started in that room. His gaze shot around the empty space looking for any signs of the ones he was looking for as his chest heaved with every gasp, feet never slowing.

Nothing.

Fear and relief were a toxic mix in his chest.

"Abraxis, what are you doing?"

He looked down from where he sat, book in hand. Standing below him was the young man. "Reading," he stated blandly, gesturing with the book to make a point.

The young man huffed at him. "I can see that. Why are you reading up there?"

He turned his attention to the surrounding branches. "Why not?" he asked back down. Barely a week in the young man's presence and he already wanted to strangle him. How was Emrynth tolerating him?

Again, the young man huffed. "There are plenty of chairs down here."

"But I would be disrupting you and Mistress Ryn's time together."

The young man's expression became surprisingly emotionless. "Lady Ryn has retired to the castle."

Like he needed to be told. She had signaled for him to stay put as she left. "And you're not following?"

The young man looked away, clearly offended by being called out. "I was quite content with being in your company for the time being. Lady Ryn wanted her space and I'm in no hurry to deny her that."

He slipped from his branch and made his way back down to the solid earth below. His landing was a soft, solid thud on both feet but the young man wouldn't look at him. "I am not the greatest company, Your Highness. I'm sure Mistress Ryn has tol-"

"Use my name." He stopped talking, letting the young man before him continue with cheeks still pink. "When we're alone or with Lady Ryn, call me by my name."

"Your Highness," he started but the other shook his head violently.

"No. You're important to her," the young man snapped. There was a slight shift in the other's expression and the following words seemed stilted. "And if you are going to be around, it seems improper for you to remain so formal with me when you are less formal with her, especially in private settings."

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him and the indignant look that crossed the other's face was endearing. With a tight smile and a low, mocking bow, he offered, "As you wish, Prince Vanell."

There were a few castle guards in the hallway but the floor was littered with those from the castle and a faction he didn't recognize. He tried not to drown in despair as he kept running.

"Hey, Van," he drawled, dropping the book on top of the Prince's head. "You were supposed to meet us in the garden. Lady Ryn said to tell you she has grown bored waiting and went horseback riding with your little brother instead."

"Oh." Ice hit the pit of his stomach. "I hope they have fun."

Something was wrong. Setting the book down, he leaned closer to try and catch the Prince's gaze. "Hey," he softly spoke. When that didn't work, he gently pressed the back of his fingers into the other's shoulder, withdrawing the touch when he gained the Prince's full attention. "What's wrong?" At a thought, he amended, "What happened?"

Prince Vanell stared at him for a moment before looking away. "They're not expecting Father to make it to morning."

He sucked in a breath, sharp and painful, and, for a fleeting moment, he couldn't remember why he had ever thought that Prince Vanell - still a bit spoiled but happily learning - was any sort of villain. It was clear in those tear filled eyes hollowed out by despair that the Prince was nothing like the image the kingdom saw. He pulled away as a familiar fury burned through him, hiding it from the Prince's eyes. All his rage was aimed at the current man sitting on the throne impersonating a dying King in order to keep the kingdom and other regions ignorant of the truth. And it was working. No one was questioning if the King was himself or not. Not when his twin brother looked and sounded just like him.

He swallowed thickly and asking the stars for more time.

"Why don't we go gather your brother and Lady Ryn and go spend the day with your father, then," he offered around a lump in his throat.

There was a choked sob from the Prince's direction and it clenched at Abraxis's heart as tears sprung to his own eyes. He crossed back over to the Prince, placed a heavy hand on the other's shoulder, and quickly found his arms full of a sobbing Prince. He held on with all he had, begging the stars to just give them till summer, to let the King live till the spring days gave way to the summer's heat.

A skirmish cropped up in his way and he ducked around a widely swung sword.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, your Highness," he offered weakly. The Prince looked up from the book he had been reading softly out lout to the King and his little brother. The King's eyes were closed and the man's chest rose and fell as if in sleep. On the sleeping man's other side the Prince's younger brother by many years was curled into the King's side. His heart went out to both of them. "Lady Ryn was wondering if you would join her for dinner." Her stitching ring bounced off of his shoulder and he flinched, amending, "Ok, so I wanted to make sure you were going to eat dinner tonight and not waste away in a dark room."

"I don't-" the Prince started with a hint of bite, but a wheezy voice cut in.

"You are Abraxis, yes?" that wheezy voice asked.

He tried getting through without facing off with anyone but he didn't get very far before he was forced to draw his sword in order to keep his head.

His gaze went immediately to the King. The eyes blearily looking his way were the same color as the Prince's and just as vibrant even near Death's clutches. "Yes, Your Majesty," he responded with an awkward bow.

"My sons speak highly of you and the Lady Ryn," the King explained, a smile pulling weakly at the man's face. "Vanell is quite taken by you."

"Father!" Prince Vanell wailed, though his voice didn't get overly loud as he buried himself behind his book.

The King chuckled, though it caused his breathing to rattle and wheeze. "Abraxis."

He gave a cry of frustration and rage as another soldier got in his way. Already he was delayed with the last four, he didn't need to deal with more. With a vicious swipe of his sword, he took out as many in his way as he could, pressing forward.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

He broke through the fight.

"Watch over my two boys for me," the ill man croaked, voice weak at the edges as tears gathered at the corners of those tired eyes. "Help Vanell to be happy when he gains the throne."

He gave a strangled scream when more blocked his way.

His throat closed at that. Was the King insinuating what he thought he was? He hadn't even humored the idea, let alone spoken about it with the Prince. Certainly Vanell and Emrynth were as in love as they appeared.

He charged with every intent of slicing his way through.

Right?

Someone or several someones came to his aid but he didn't take the time to check. He took the opening and ran.

"Of course, Your Majesty."

The roar of his pulse obscured any noise sent his way anyways.

Their laughter mingled in the air as they crashed to the grass. It was all he could do to stay awake, though, as both his gasping for air and laughter petered out. The spring winds were pleasantly warm, the sun equally so, and it made him even more drowsy than their sparring alone. A small part of him was aware that summer time was approaching, which meant that they were almost out of time.

"Hey, Abraxis?"

He hummed in acknowledgement, eyes closed as he tried to hang onto the moment.

"Don't hate me, ok?"

He slammed bodily through another door, colliding with a number of bodies and hitting the ground with them.

Unfamiliar lips pressed against his for a brief moment. He opened his eyes as Vanell pulled away but he didn't let the Prince go far. With a careful but swift hand, he burying his fingers in the other's hair. "I could never hate you," he urged honestly. "But what of Ryn?"

He brought his head around as the bodies under him tried to disentangle themselves from each other.

His eyes found who he was looking for and screamed.

Vanell's face turned scarlet and the Prince pressed his face into Abraxis's shoulder to hide it. "She's been trying to get me to actually speak up for months now. We've been pretending for my Uncle's sake."

Something within him twisted. "Van, there's-"

There was a shout from the castle and Abraxis's insides went cold.

"Vanell!"

The mass of bodies gave and he was at the Prince's side as Emrynth clashed swords with the Tyrant King. His shaking hands pressed on the Prince's wound gaining a strangled cry from the Prince. "You idiot," he choked out. "You were supposed to leave the fight to us!"

Vanell coughed before managing, "Is Ryn alright?"

"Of course she is," he snapped. "She knows to block a sword with a weapon, not her body."

Vanell gave a huff of a laugh, several faint coughs chasing after it. "And my brother?"

"Safe with your Father," he assured him but the tears still came and the sob choked him. This was all his fault.

Vanell smiled weakly as he raised a bloody hand up to touch Abraxis's cheek. "I'm glad...I finally kissed you...before this."

He gave a laugh but it was hollow. "Make it through this and you can kiss me all you want."

Vanell's weak smile grew as the Prince's hand fell back to the floor and Abraxis begged the stars with all his being that Vanell would wake up after this.