Just like... eight hours late cause I took a whole nap lol
Enjoy, lovelies!
xoxo
P.S. I'll edit tomorrow cause these damn fireworks that woke me up and are still going off at 2 fucking A.M. has me dazed and awfully fucking confused
Especially granted it's been storming and rainy all goddamn day in Minneapolis.
Like just hang it up and celebrate tomorrow night, Jesus fucking Christ
You're going to let these whores off well into July anyways, cause the Midwest has an infatuation with dropping a whole paycheck on fireworks

Dance With Jack Ketch: a hangman, meaning to hang

Alistair

As soon as I laid my eyes on thick wicked laces, I knew I needed to get them for Caspian.

The laces of his own boots had a tendency to come undone, and frankly while there was much I was willing to now forgive when it came to this man, I'd shoot his bloody head off myself if his laces were what cost him a fight.

I had already purchased what was needed for myself, finding the stand in question quickly before I asked the merchant to hold my items aside until nightfall. So when I made my way to Caspian, and spotted the man solely by the type of cloak he wore, I called to him to make certain it was he who I was quickly approaching.

As he turned around towards me, just a small distance away, his eyebrows were furrowed. He knew it was me, and yet he didn't seem to quite register me as I drew nearer. That was when my vision expanded itself further past this man.

There was a man standing behind him who turned as he had, but I noticed he had accidentally hit Caspian with the open bags of oranges as he had, clearly not anticipating the proximity between him and Caspian as a few oranges rolled out and onto the ground.

Caspian was quick to reach down to help him collect them once he turned back in that direction. They seemed to have perhaps exchanged pleasantries then... yet none of that soon proved to be exactly true as both men started to look at each other. Just... look at each other. The orange in Caspian's hand was quickly let go again, his eyes fixated on this shorter man, which forced my feet forward rather quickly.

There was something exchanged between them again from what I could see as I sprinted towards them, not paying nearly enough mind to how low my hood should've sat upon my head to conceal the most of my identity.

Instead, the first thing my body reacted to was the hand that this man placed on Caspian's forearm once Caspian had started to back away.

This stranger hadn't even registered my abrupt charge until I was close enough that my arm came down on the hand that held Caspian, and the words that fell past my lips surprised even I by its utter deadly tone.

"Let go," I started, my hand tightening on the strangers arm hard enough for him to finally break his gaze from Caspian, and look at me. His eyes grew wide as he finally registered my presence. "Or I'll break it clean off."

"Wait!" It was Caspian's voice that broke my concentration, as he suddenly came to this man's defense. Once the man in question caught a better look at who it was that held that forearm of his, his eyes catching more of my features than I had expected to show, he let go of Caspian immediately.

The urge to still snap this arm, the arm of someone who saw it fit enough to touch any part of Caspian, was quite strong. It was Caspian's second, and silent plea as his eyes shifted from this man to I, that forced my own hand to finally let go.

For the look on Caspian's face was something I'd never seen before, even with his hood still covering much of him.

He looked like he had just seen a ghost.

"We need to get off these streets. Now." The man in front of us urged. His eyes finally landed back on Caspian as he said those words.

I turned back to Caspian when he remained silent a moment, before he finally nodded in agreeance. Who the hell was this man? I asked myself, and yet the look on both their faces told me it wouldn't be wise to question this here. Instead, all I asked Caspian was one simple question.

"Is he safe?"

To which when Caspian's eyes found mine once more, he simply nodded to me.

And well, as of now that had to be enough.

I kept myself between this white haired man of mine, and this short dark haired man with fair skin and green eyes, not even allowing his glances back to reach Caspian as he paid for his bag of oranges, picked up the basket of other items he seemingly already paid for, then started back up the road. He was leading us back up the way we came.

We were walking the path that led us away from the markets, however this shorter man's pace started to slow as we took an off beaten path towards the homes that stretched scarcely on the outskirts of the major port.

These homes were newer. Or at least rather new to me since I had last touched foot in Azul. He was quick with this pace, so much so that Caspian and I had struggled to keep it until we reached the path leading up to the front steps of what I assumed to be his home.

I watched him slide a key into the lock, before it clicked open, and whilst Caspian looked to trust whoever this was, my right hand under my cloak had long since reached for the handle of my sword strapped to and hidden at my side.

I wasn't willing to take any chances. Not on this shit land, and surely not with the shit people that had run it over.

But once we entered this small cottage, I grew more confused than anything else.

The home was small, with just enough space through the door for a dining table and chairs, before an open hall led to the kitchen, and another down a corridor. The man in question gestured for us to fully come in before he locked the door behind us. I noticed three additional latches on that door, and he fastened all three securely.

"Please," he gestured again towards the dining table that stood in the middle of the open main room. "Please have a seat."

Caspian turned to look back at me, before he eventually took to one of the four chairs, the one closest to the kitchen and hallway. I took the seat right beside his, closest to the door.

The man who had invited us in had made his way towards the kitchen with his basket, yet all he did was set his items down on one of the counters before he soon joined us again. He chose the seat across the table from Caspian's.

"Who are you?" I asked as soon as his arse touched the surface of that wooden fucking chair. He turned from Caspian to I.

"I do not owe you an answer. For I know who you are."

Those bold words of his made an eyebrow of mine raise slightly. I now regretted not snapping his arm clean in half, regardless of Caspian's pleas.

Caspian was the one who surprisingly tried to ease this quickly growing tension between a man I could so easily kill, and I.

"Please Dreska, trust in him as he's just trusted you."

My eyes cast from Dreska's to Caspian, surprised by his words but I remained quiet. In addition, he didn't need to know that I had already calculated every possible way to both kill the man that was sitting in front of us, and leaving this home undetected.

Some more than likely wouldn't call that trust, but I allowed this white haired man to continue.

"What exactly are you doing in the company of The Pirate King, your highness?" Dreska whispered more quietly, more personably to Caspian, and yet his tone had a degree of respect-

I cut my own thoughts short once I fully processed his words.

What the hell did he mean by your highness?

"Dreska, stop. He doesn't-"

As my eyes shifted from Dreska's to Caspian's, his pale eyes shifted to mine. I found my very eyes narrowing at his, daring both him and this short man to continue, for I had already heard that title spoken.

"Do you know who he is?" Dreska asked, paying my own growing uneasiness no mind.

"I-" Caspian started. There was something about this conversation that was pulling emotion from him that made that uneasiness even greater. It was something I had simply never seen him bear before.

What had this man meant by your highness?

"Yes." Caspian settled on finally. "I know who he is."

"And yet you keep his company?" Dreska continued. There was anger creeping upon his face, but his eyes never left Caspian's.

"It's... it's complicated. He's my-"

"He's mine." I finished finally. I may have started to grow irritated with my own agitation, yet the unevenness in Caspian's voice was simply something I wouldn't willingly hear. This wasn't him.

I leant back in this uncomfortable wooden chair as my arms found themselves tightly across my chest.

Dreska finally pulled his eyes away from Caspian to mine. "Do you know who it is you're supposedly claiming?"

I felt my eyelid lowering slightly, my eye piercing through this short man's as I responded with two simple words. "Enlighten me."

"Wait!" Caspian interrupted, to which this sharp, piercing gaze of mine cast itself from Dreska to Caspian, shutting this white haired man up. I knew he could feel it now as he grew silent from this look. If any man, either he or Dreska, chose less careful words, I was going to draw my sword.

When this gaze returned to the man it was really intended for, Dreska had a look of his own etched into his aged features. "This is Caspilius Lockeheart The Second, and you would do well to mind that tongue of yours. Even you, Alistair Melek, The Demon of The Sea, the one we call The Shadow, will address him as such."

That piercing gaze slowly released itself as I processed the name he just laid claim to. The name he had just revealed.

"Even you don't hold enough weight to address him as anything less."

The arms crossed tightly across my chest started to loosen themselves, as my gaze slowly returned to Caspian. The look in his eyes held nothing but pain at the revelation of Dreska.

No... I thought quietly to myself. This must've been a trick. Something someone had-

But as my gaze shifted between Caspian and Dreska, I realized there was not a single smile playing at their lips. Between these two, there was no trickery that seemed to be afoot. No veil they intentionally cast over my eyes. And so, the next word that slipped past my lips was just a simple word.

"Caspian," I whispered quietly.

Those uneasy eyes shifted to Dreska again. "It wasn't your place-"

"Like hell it wasn't." Dreska cut in. "Do you not know the soil in which your feet carry you? This is your land."

Regardless of what words fell past Dreska, my eyes never left Caspian's.

This man... he couldn't possibly...

I wasn't sure what my next course of action could possibly be. I wanted to bring this sharp blade of mine to Dreska's throat for his arrogance alone, yet if what he spoke was to be held to the light of truth, I had much larger issues at hand. Much, much larger.

"What has become of Lemont?" I heard Dreska ask, to which Caspian cast his eyes towards the kitchen, refusing to meet either of our gaze now.

"He's..." Caspian trailed off a moment, yet I couldn't see his eyes. I didn't know what emotion he held as he settled on "he's gone."

My gaze then shifted to Dreska, and the look in his eyes took me even further back. The pain in those emerald green irises made my uneasiness grow even further, for certain things had started to fall into place. Things I couldn't be sure of besides the feeling it left me with.

"We had..." Caspian started. Still refusing to meet either of our gaze. "We were ambushed by some pirates."

And that was when my breathing hitched, taking the sharpest of an inhale.

Shit.

Caspian hadn't said what ship. He hadn't named its captain... and yet he didn't have to.

For I knew it to be my own.

That merchant, I thought to myself. The one I had questioned Caspian about the night I killed the rest of his men. The one I had given my own line of questioning to, shortly before...

The anger now clearly evident on Dreska's face only solidified the lie I knew Caspian had told me when he said they had only just met.

I still remembered the look in that merchant's eyes right before I killed him. The smile on my own as my dagger pierced through his stomach with ease.

It was the action that had once brought me joy, as many killings had, but now all it left was a deepening sickness in my stomach. Had I known...

"And yet you take the company of just that," Dreska continued as his words held a harshness in its tone. "The company of a pirate. Hell, the pirate of all pirates."

That finally pulled Caspian's gaze away from the kitchen as it returned to Dreska.

"You speak on my life as if you've lived it."

And I found my own eyebrows raising in slight surprise. I had known Caspian- well, clearly not as well as I thought I had, but in the time we had spent together, the piercing tone of his voice now was unrecognizable.

It brought me back to that merchant ship, and how little Caspian had really fought for that man's life. If Caspian was who Dreska said he was, this had meant that Lemont had to have followed him from the palace. That would make their time together spanned over ten years... and yet, that defeat in his eyes as he so humbly welcomed death...

Dreska was the one to cast his gaze towards the kitchen now, the look of slight shame very evident on his face by the voice of Caspian. The voice of supposed royalty.

"Lemont and I were tasked with the same purpose. Our loyalty is to the Lockehearts... therefore I believe whatever choices that were made in regards to Lemont's life must've been necessary." He settled on finally.

I wasn't sure what his definition of necessary was, but I chose to do something I often refrained from doing. I chose not to speak. Whatever had happened between Caspian and Lemont leading up to his death, was something I was not apart of.

And if everything Dreska had just spoken was true, it was something I wouldn't like to include myself in. I was still trying to process just how much shit I was already in, granted I had taken the next rightful heir to Azultia as a slave.

And now... well... more than a slave.

Everything I had done would be seen as punishable by a Dance With Jack Ketch.

"What has brought you back to these shores?" Dreska asked. "This is the worst possible moment you could've returned. The selection process will begin soon, to which in just a moment I must leave you to deliver items to the Council's coliseum for. Why would you risk your life to walk these streets so openly?"

That was when Caspian's brows furrowed slightly. "I've been living this life just as openly. None have recognized me yet besides yourself."

But those words alone triggered the memory of something. It was the look on Jirah's face, well the face of the man he stole, when his eyes found Caspian's on the deck of his ship.

Very few had seen the faces of Lord Caspilius and Armoria. Even less had gazed their eyes upon their children. Their two sons. And so, it made me wonder how Jirah had known. What features he himself saw that he recognized in Caspian.

"There are still some." Dreska spoke, rising from this table now. "Whatever you do, you must steer clear of The Holy Men."

I found myself scoffing at his ridiculous heed. "Those men are just the reflection of ash. A pitiful demonstration of what once stood here. You lay too much importance on the lot."

That was when Dreska finally turned to me. "Considering the revelations you've had this day, let me leave you both with one more. The man selected to lead that reflection of ash is the Great Zirion Khan."

Ah, I almost nodded to myself.

That's what his name was.

If only Cael had been here to remember it for me.

"And though you may not recognize the face he's taken," these words were directed to Caspian now as Dreska shifted his gaze from me, to the white haired man. "You will recognize that set of eyes. The bloodline of the Lockehearts... and the hollowed gaze of your brother."

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