Prompt:

Spoilers: none

☽ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:⠀ ⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

The festival was in full flow by the time he got there. Colourful lanterns hung from trees and stalls, delicious smells wafted from carts, children giggled, chasing harmless illusions made of light. A happy scene.

A party trick.

These people weren't what they seemed.

There was nothing he'd have wanted more than to turn back and leave — go back to the cottage where he'd left Theo in a magical slumber, safe in the slivers of moonlight. To sneak into bed next to him, press closer, and stay. To be nothing but Hugh and Theo, merchant and guard, lovers. Together.

But Hugh had never existed, and Theo was better off without the man he'd allowed in his bed.

It was easy to get lost in the crowd. The Light Festival provided many opportunities for a Shadow Wanderer to hide in. There could be no shadow without light, after all.

It'd be harder once he got closer to the actual palace, but he had Theo's uniform and helmet on. They wouldn't know it wasn't him until it was too late. The magical residue he'd been careful to leave behind would leave no doubts as to Theo's innocence in the entire endeavour. They'd know he'd been tricked, but that couldn't be helped. At least they wouldn't hang him for a traitor.

The sounds of the festival faded with every step, memories of the last few months refusing to fade with the same grace. Theo hadn't been just a guard, just a mark, a means to an end. Theo had been everything.

It wasn't harder when he got to the palace. The other guards nodded in his direction and never even thought to question him as he walked in. He'd chosen Theo for his easy access to the vault, after all.

Confidence, in excess, would one day prove to be his downfall, his mother often said.

The room he'd walked into wasn't the vault at all. Trapped, surrounded by guards on all sides, nowhere close enough to his prize, he made his peace with his fate. "Throw him in the dungeon," someone said; "Get the king," another voice insisted.

The king. That accursed, thrice-damned thief of a thrice-damned line. Why they couldn't execute him without forcing him to look at the man's face, he didn't know.

Minutes ticked by. The room fell silent as the king entered, a cloak hiding his features. His last hopes died that moment, and his thoughts turned to Theo once more. Forgive me. It was all for nothing. I wish I could have stayed.

The guards scrambled to leave at the twist of a gloved hand. Had there been a single weapon in the room, the king's arrogance would have cost him his life. The door closed behind the last guard with an audible click and they were alone.

Surprisingly, there was no villanous speech. Only the removal of a cloak and Theo's moss green eyes gazing into his soul. "Hugh. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this."

No.

He recoiled, dread twisting up his insides. No, it couldn't be, not Theo, not his sweet, earnest lover. Not the man who could make him laugh or cry out with the same ease, who was quick with a smile and generous with his affections. Was the king so skilled an actor, that he could have created that persona?

He'd been worried about Theo when he should have worried about himself.

"Theo." He swallowed, then managed to spit his next words with some vitriol. "Your Majesty. Light Weaver."

"Hugh. Or should I call you Shadow Wanderer? I admit, you didn't turn out as I'd expected."

"Can we dispense with the pleasantries?" Before you realise how deeply you managed to wound me. "I believe I have an execution to attend. Or will you do the deed yourself?" He looked away, then. Let Theo think him weak, if he would, but he couldn't bear to look at the face of the man he loved and the man who would murder him, to see they were one and the same.

Theo's —Light Weaver's — footsteps came closer as he drew his sword, but the expected strike didn't come. The sword landed at his feet — a weapon, as he'd wished for only minutes ago. "Why don't you do the deed instead," Theo mocked, though his voice was serious. "Slay me — bringing my head home has to be more valuable than the prize you came to collect."

He was horrified to realise he couldn't pick it up — couldn't even consider ending Theo's life, even if there was no Theo. He was a fool. "You know nothing of the prize I came to collect. It isn't yours to keep."

"I know that it isn't yours to take. Pick the sword up."

"So you can have your guards run in here and kill me anyway? Do your own dirty work, coward."

"I have no intention of killing you."

Imprisonment, then? Stuck in a dungeon to live out his days, with just enough shadows to keep him company, but never enough to escape? Or perhaps he'd be blinded — he'd heard rumours of Light Weavers, and how they could use their gift to burn out Shadow Wanderers' eyes — so he wouldn't even have shadow companions. Death was preferable.

"Coward."

Theo's gaze remained impassive. "So you said."

"What happens now then, Light Weaver?"

"That's entirely up to you."

Every instinct told him to pick the sword up and slay the King, consequences be damned. Every cell in his body rebelled at the idea of taking up arms against Theo. He remained unmoving, silent. He might not have the strength to do what needed to be done, but he'd be damned if he'd allow the King the satisfaction of hearing his voice waver.

"Option one: You pick that sword up. Try to murder me. You may or may not succeed, but you have to know you won't leave the palace alive. There aren't enough shadows for you to hide in."

"Pass," he managed to reply. Single words were easier.

"Very well. Option two," Theo stepped forward, he stepped back, step by step, until his back was to the wall and Theo had still managed to come closer. "My guards will escort you to the city gates. And you never return, under penalty of life imprisonment."

He couldn't help the shocked gasp that escaped him. There was no way the King would let him leave. He shrugged, trying to look defiant, and said "I don't like that one either. Is there an option three?"

A warm smile lifted up the corners of Theo's lips, gentleness in his eyes. "I must admit, I hoped you'd ask that question." He shuddered as Theo removed one of his gloves and touched him for the first time since he'd walked in, tucking away a strand of hair behind his ear. It was in revulsion, he told himself. Explaining why he wanted to press closer would have been harder, so best not to dwell on the question. "Option three is you stay. For a fortnight, a season, a year. Stay. See for yourself we're not what the legends have told you, as I've seen for myself you're not what the legends have told me."

It was a trick, it had to be, but his heart knew nothing of caution and wouldn't stop beating for this man. "Stay," Theo repeated. "With me or despite me, but stay. You won't have free reign — my guards will follow you — but if you intend on harming no one, no harm will come to you. Stay. Tell me of your people. Learn of mine. Leave when you're ready, as a friend, with the option to return. It's not yours to take," Theo said once more, "and it's not mine to keep. Perhaps there's another option. Perhaps we might learn to share it."

"As a friend?" He echoed in a whisper, foolishly longing for more already.

"I wouldn't presume to ask for more." Theo looked vulnerable by candlelight — he always had. "My offer isn't contingent on what you would give me, other than the benefit of the doubt. But if you're asking if I'd welcome it..." He gazed away momentarily, swallowed. Forced moss-green eyes back to meet his, stronger, certain. "Not now. Not tonight, or tomorrow, not until I'm confident you're genuine in your willingness to learn of us with an open mind. But after?" Theo's knuckles grazed his cheek, a featherlight touch before retreating. "For all I kept hidden from you, the most important parts were always real."

Stay. Could it be that simple? He didn't know. But, thinking of all the people he'd come across since arriving, of the wickedness and evil he'd failed to find — looking at Theo — he could do nothing but try.

☽ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:⠀ ⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

Time: Over an hour. Yes, I'm suitably ashamed of myself.

Length: 1473 words. See above.

Prompt: https://www.cameronmontaguetaylor.com/2021/01/21/morning-pages-starweaver/