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konnorhasapen · 2 years ago

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Treading Water — Chapter 2: The Runaway & The Knight

Read from the beginning in the tag "redacted pirate au" or over on ao3!

This one was a lot of fun to write to epic celtic chase music >:3c Hope you enjoy!

——

Afternoon sun rays trickled through the overcast and shone against the giant stained glass windows of the East dining hall—the West hall made vast for visitors or formal dinner parties and reserved strictly for such specificities—decorating the dining table, that was far too big for just the two people living there now, in an array of vibrant colors. It had already been fifteen minutes since Angel and Sofia had taken seats for their meal and neither had spoken. Without so much as needing to clear her throat, the latter spoke up:

"The Gods have finally decided it was time they bestow upon us some uplifting news," Sofia declared at the head of the large dining table. Her voice was always soft, smooth and even, yet the tone she used was never weak. It was strong, and it carried a certain weight; one that had surely urged all of the castle staff to oblige her every request and order as quickly and efficiently as humanly possible. As loathe as they were to admit it, Angel held no immunity to her aura, either.

"And what is this uplifting news?" They ask, picking uselessly at the assortment of food that adorned their plate. It hadn't gone unnoticed to their personal guard that they'd been partaking in meals less than they used to. Their Knight. How they wished Stealth were here in the room with them right now, but Sofia had excused them to go take care of some issue the nearby Wonder Wharf had been struggling to deal with—something about people hearing things and some townsfolk going missing, if Angel was recalling correctly. Stealth had always been good at investigating problems and thinking up solutions faster than panic could set in.

"It brings me such a sense of contentment to know and see that you're finally coming around to being interested in what I have to say," Angel nodded at the Queen's note, only half listening once again as their thoughts continued:

How can she just do that? Just send someone off to a place almost across the entire country with a shrug? They asked themself.

"Every day you get closer to fitting the mold of the perfect Monarch."

Oh yeah, they sighed. That's how. Sofia Ighnheirt, Queen of the Kingdom Favíll in the Eastern lands of Dahlia and a horrible excuse of an adoptive mother. Even a bit of a lousy blood mother, seeing as her only son, Damien, had made his escape not too long ago. Sofia hummed at the lack of a response and continued with her original point of conversation instead, not at all discouraged:

"The news is that Prince Kody Pluvaes of Rainfall is looking for a new suitor," Angel nearly choked to death on their own saliva at her nonchalantly spoken words.

Kody Pluvaes...

They'd heard of him before—from Damien back when he was still stuck here, and even just before their parents were killed in that fire. They had a feeling those rumors of what he did to the last person who had been arranged to marry him weren't rumors at all. After they had taken a stand for themself, they were locked in the dungeon, but Damien said they had escaped. He said they were going to try and find them—the Mage, Freelancer—when he escaped and promised to take them on the adventure too after the loss of their parents. Just two best friends against the world, searching for The Mage's Damnation... So much for that.

They couldn't blame him though. While Sofia was a levelheaded Queen, she was a tyrant to her son behind closed doors. It had gotten to the point where he hardly had any life outside of being forced to prepare for his upbringing as the next King of Favíll—which was about the last thing he wanted. So, he left. He had meant to bring Angel with him and they knew that, but, in the end, he didn't have time. It was either get out alone, or get caught.

Escaping.., they let the word roll off their mental tongue, eyes drifting to the tapestries lining the walls as they pondered. That's got quite the appeal to it.

"I've already arranged for us to set out at dawn and meet him in Rainfall," she smiled. "How exciting." Angel felt themself begin to spiral:

Oh Gods, they thought to themself, I can't do this. I can't let her marry me off to some mildewy creep like I'm some trading good. They pushed their seat from the table and stood abruptly.

"Please excuse me?" They asked, barely waiting for the dismissive wave of the Queen's hand before they took the shortest route to their room and stepped out on to the balcony, letting the crisp air that carried the scent of the ocean waft through their senses and slow their mind into a state of calm. Now, they could start thinking rationally.

When did they set off? They asked themself, gaze loacked on the distant piers of their own city. One whole week ago, thereabouts. They should be home soon. Within the day, in fact.

As if they themselves possessed abilities to see into what the future holds, Angel could hear the clattering and clobbering of a horse's footfall, they could see the sun shining brightly against heavy iron and the light reflecting off their bronze emblem.

"By the Gods, they've made it back in one piece!" Angel exclaimed from their balcony, snickering to themself as they could sense the roll of Stealth's keen eyes without having to actually see them. Once they knew they had the attention of their Knight, they smiled.

"Meet me in the private courtyard!" They beckoned, recieving a nod without hesitation before Stealth continued their trot into the stables atop Arion. It didn't take long for all of the mare's needs to be met and Stealth to find the last royal heir sat comfortably on a white stone bench deep within the private courtyard, delicately nursing a drooping sunflower.

"Did you wish to have a casual chat, or was there something specific plaguing your conscience?" Stealth asked. Somehow, some way, they always knew when something was amiss with Angel. It was like a sixth sense of theirs that, in some instances, they were grateful for, while in others they weren't sure how they felt about being such an open book, wondering if just anyone could tell there was something wrong or if it was just their Knight who could read every crease in their features like they could.., could... they've run out of comparisons. It was always frustrating when they lost track of what they were thinking of.

"Your Highness," Stealth redirected, now letting their gloved hand lay softly on Angel's shoulder as they awaited a response.

"Yes, there is something wrong," they admit with ease. It always felt easy to talk with their Knight. Like they knew they would keep any secrets they'd felt safe enough to share with them like the old journal of a mistress thrown into the ocean, left to drown and become erased with time—the undertow current taking all the secrets within its pages away with it.

"I'm always right here," assured Stealth. And that was more than enough.

"Sofia says we're riding out at dawn to arrange a marriage between me and the Prince of Rainfall," the Knight sneered at the mention of the vile Prince. Angel agreed quickly:

"I share your sentiment, believe me. Which is why I want to leave." The taller was stunned for a few moments, eyes suddenly blown wide as they staggered a bit at their words.

"..Leave?" They asked. Angel nodded, lips pressed into a thin line and brows pinched in a worry that their loyal guard would be more loyal to the Queen than to themself. "You.., you want to leave?"

"Yes! I want to leave, to escape, to run away—far away—from here!" Both scrambled at the royal's outburst, Stealth casting a long glance over their shoulder to be sure no one heard.

"Run away?"

"Yes,"

"This isn't just something you've decided completely on impulse, is it?"

"I'm afraid not, my dear Knight."

"You've been planning this since the week after Damien fled the city, haven't you?"

"Oh, absolutely." Stealth let an unsure expression cross their features, furrowing their brows and bringing a grimace to there lips. "I want to find Damien. And running away is the best option I can think of." The guard sighed.

"And, I'm assuming, we flee at midnight?" Angel nodded, chewing at their bottom lip as they awaited their answer. Stealth sighed, gaze softening in understanding. While they may deal with duties not too far outside of royal expectations and traditions, they do know that there is struggle within the life of a royal heir. They've seen such trials firsthand, being Angel's personal guard.

"I do believe Warden owes me a few silent favors," their words brought a sparkle to the royal's big eyes, the ghost of a smile on their lips. The Knight thought a few moments more before nodding gradually:

"Morticia will serve as your steed, both he and Arion can carry quite the lot without being weighed down too heavily. Water, food, maps, a few extra clothes you could borrow from myself..." They trailed off into a barely audible mumble, listing off supplies and marking the best routes in their mind.

"So?" Angel tried.

"We ride at midnight," they confirmed. "Be sure your ready." Angel clasped their hands together as excitement flood through their heart and their mind raced at the thought of their daydreams coming true.

"Now, keep this talk discreet. The two of us are on the same page, so there shouldn't be any need to mention it again lest an issue arises. I will commune with Warden and get everything prepared." Their Knight instructed, the shorter listening intently to every word. This was important. Follow their plan to the T, the less chance they have of getting caught.

As the evening continued on, Stealth had met with Warden in the dank hallways of the dungeon and discussed cashing in their favors. Warden didn't pry too deeply, but they didn't have to; they knew of Angel's discomfort and reluctance at the thought of being forced to take up the throne. However, both they and Stealth agreed without words that the former was better off not being told official. Better for the safety of all three of them.

Warden nodded and confirmed that they'd grab whatever they could, and Stealth was off to prepare their horses before following Angel to dinner.

——

Thunder rolled through the sky in the midst of night, scattered lightning leading each rumble as the dark storm clouds threatened to decorate the city below in downpour. Angel stood before their grand vanity mirror, their expressions changing drastically as they gave themself a a vigorous pep talk. They took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching their fists in attempt to keep their nerves at bay. The opened the top right drawer and pulled out their late mother's silver locket—eyes misting a little as they lingered on the smallest fragment of sapphire embedded in the center of the oval.

"I miss you, mama.." Angel whispered. They blinked away the tears that had started to grow as they shook their head lightly and lay the locket of the necklace on their chest just below their collarbone. They were about to clasp it, but hesitated. Instead, Angel set it on their vanity and stood up to rummage through the other drawers in search of—

"Aha!" They exclaimed in a whisper. In their hand was a burgundy leather satchel, big enough to pack a few small things in. Perfect for what keepsakes they wanted to carry with them wherever they went. They tiptoed quickly to their nightstand and grabbed Damien's favorite book, 'Beyond Nature's Blood: The Plague of Devils.' A story he loved so much that whatever image was on the cover could hardly be seen and the title not even readable anymore, but Angel had been seeing him with his nose shoved in this book for years, and they could never forget a title like that. It was a tale of Mages, written by a man who seemed to harbor nothing but a hatred for those who could tap into the world beyond the veil. Ezekiel... Ezekiel something; they couldn't for the life of them remember his surname. Not that it mattered much. All Angel knew was Damien loved this novel, not because he had agreed with the madman—no way in hell, but because he was always fascinated by the idea of Magery. And he didn't exactly have access to any books that sung praises of Mages, so he took what he could get.

Placing the well-loved book into the satchel with gentle care, they then were back at their vanity to pluck their locket from the dark wood and drop it carefully into one of the smaller pockets inside the bag. Now, they were off to Stealth's chambers. It was no issue getting inside, their Knight had given them a spare key as a token of their trust—and they were going to use that token to grab what Stealth had left of their parents: a single note written by their father, and signed by both of their kin. With a flourish of their hand drawn family emblem—a fully bloomed carnation painted in a deep purple. Angel rolled up the parchment softly and slid it into the satchel. With everything the needed with them, they left Stealth's room and headed for the Northwest tower, the one closest to the stables, but not before coming across one of the royal keepers, Nate Wexler. In the brief exchange, they begged of him to rush their satchel to Warden.

They weren't sure how Warden did it, but they could be places within the blink of an eye. Nate had agreed the instant they asked, assuring them it would be delivered safely. Angel thanked him graciously and continued their way to that tower, feeling a pang of sadness strike their heart at the thought of having to leave the friends they had made with palace staff behind, but they shook there head and told themself that they had to do this. They couldn't stay here anymore. They needed to find Damien, their best friend..,

Their brother.

Almost as if getting lost in there thoughts made time fly past them, they'd arrived at the Northwest tower, and it was there they reunited with their Knight, who asked a very important question:

"Are you sure about this, your Majesty?" Angel met there eyes without falter and straightened their posture.

"I'm most certain this is what I want," they said. 'What I need' was a thought they kept to themself. "Are you positive these horses won't turn around the moment they hear General Blake's command?" Stealth smirked at that.

"Arion and Morticia follow no command but my own," the Knight assured, confidence burning in their eyes like white hot fires. "They have no King nor Queen, all they have are riders."

"Equals," Angel recalled. Without a so much as a second's hesitation, Stealth whistled loud and even, slicing straight through the silence of the city below. The mare and the stallion whinny in response as they appear down below the window, ready to take off given the signal. They beat their hooves against the gravel as if urging the two get a move on, and they complied. Angel's Knight gestured for them to start the decline first, receiving an expression of uncertainty that couldn't quite mask the look of "are you serious?" lying just behind their worried eyes.

"We may be running away together and leaving our titles behind us, but you're life still comes before mine in any situation. That's a promise I made years ago and it's one I'd damn myself if not kept," Angel would have hugged them tight and close at their words if it weren't for the series of heavy, iron-clad footfalls that echoed off the palace walls. They lifted themself atop the stone sill and swung their legs over the side in a single motion so smooth, almost like they'd been training for this moment, and Stealth had no doubt that they had been. Using any thick enough vine or brush, every jutting brick and every gap or crack wide enough to slide their fingers or the toe of their boot in, they descended the side of the sky-scraping tower. Their loyal Knight followed close behind—taking a little less time to think about where they were going to grab or brace next, Angel noticed and admired—and once they had both gotten to a spot that they discovered offered no more purchase, the two exchanged a single look.

Do you trust me? Stealth had asked, uttering not a single word.

With everything I am. Angel's brows furrowed and their gaze hardened. They spoke the truth; Angel would trust Stealth with the lives of their children if they had any. The Knight jerked their head a single time in a firm nod, and that was all the heir needed as signal. Perfectly in sync with one another, they leapt from the tower's wall and landed right on the backs of their steeds. Though Angel faltered, Stealth had caught them faster than they could panic about and set them right before whipping Arion's reins. The mare took off immediately with Morticia and his rider close beside them, hooves pounding and piercing through the twilight that used to be so tranquil as the duo galloped through the slumbering city around them.

Stealth could hear the barking of orders not far behind, followed by the clattering of more horses, and all they could think about was Blake's horse, Parálysi; a damn bullet disguised as a mare in a hazelnut coat and a long white mane, tied up neatly to keep the wind from slowing her down even an inch.

Parálysi.., as their thoughts raced, they tightened their thighs around Arion's figure to keep steady as they sat up straight and began pulling off pieces of their armor.

"What are you doing!" Angel asked over the chase, trusting Morticia more than enough to not have their eyes continuously trained on the path ahead of them. Their Knight didn't answer right away, still pulling off fragments one by one and letting gravity do its thing as they carelessly let it fly out of their fingers behind them. The bottom half of their armor had been long since shed back inside that tower, just before they'd started climbing down, all that was left was the top half and their helmet.

"Dropping the extra weight," Stealth replied, reaching over and yanking the twine on the small supply bags they'd packed so thoughtfully until it snapped; food, extra clothes—they couldn't cut the coin, that's what they needed to buy everything back. They didn't even need to think about what had to go after that factor. A harsh determination settled in their vivid hues as they wasted no time in snapping the twine of their maps and water supply instead of the bag of sentiment they knew Angel had "secretly" packed. Stealth knew they not only grabbed the locket their mother left behind for them and their brother's favorite book, but they also grabbed the last letter sent from the Knight's parents before their private executions.

Stealth pulled back and returned to their place atop Arion's back, tugging their helmet, chainmail, and sleeve from their head in one swift movement right as Angel's eyes grew wide.

"Parálysi!" They exclaimed at the sight of a black-tipped muzzle had gained on them, Blake now within arm's reach of Stealth. As if it were natural reflex, they twisted and drew their arms back only a little and threw the last of their gear behind them at the perfect angle. The heavy iron accompanied by the chainmail now balled up inside at the crown had struck Parálysi's commander in the face so hard that he was knocked off her saddle and remained prone as the distance grew again.

Parálysi with no rider meant they could at least cross the country boarder from Dahlia into Ferris without needing to worry much about being caught. Sure enough, it wasn't long before the shouts of other royal guards and the clattering of horses—other than Morticia and Arion—had faded far behind. As their steeds grew tired from the stressful chase, Stealth had them slow to an easy walk while they searched for a hidden clearing somewhere in the surrounding wood where they could take rest for the night.

——

Ngl, I really like how this one turned out^^ I hope you all liked it, too!

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