forum "I would burn the world for you" (OxO Closed)

Started December 01, 2022 by @ElderGod-yellowqueen

tune

Braxton watched Bel with a sad expression. He had hoped to avoid this fallout. He had hoped that Nico would have worked up the courage to finally say something. But he hadn't and now he had this to deal with as well. But Bel was hurt too, he had been deceived and lied to. This was messy. Knowing this, Braxton still spoke. "You knew from the beginning what we were bringing you back for. You have information we need. Information that will help us get into the palace. You knew that when you started your relationship with him. How is it any different now that his identity has been revealed? Either way, you were brought here for the same reason, relationship or not." He sighed and shook his head. "he's been through a lot, more than most of us will ever know. Don't give up just yet."

Braxton didn't leave the tent. he didn't want to leave Bel alone. His wounds needed tending to and yet he found himself sitting across from Bel on the ground. He wasn't particularly known for his kindness. He wasn't as stone-cold as Kaillas or as flippant as Cassian. He was blunt and honest and not many people liked like. It didn't stop him either way.

Ronan bristled as the prince got his name wrong. He decided he hated this little princeling. He was so far over his head, thinking he was better than everyone else. Well, news flash, the prince was just like the rest of them. "I am on a personal mission from the king, I have every authority to be here." He didn't but as long as he didn't get caught, what did it matter?

The man only grinned as the prince grabbed his arm and dug into the wound. He liked pain. He enjoyed it. It wasn't until ice began spreading on his arm that he cried out. Witch. The prince was a witch and deserved to die in hell. He was reaching back, trying to find his weapon, get a grasp on it. This man needed to die before he corrupted everyone else. The hand moved to his neck. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He was struggling now, arms flailing and legs kicking out. Until finally, he collapsed, dead.

"I know why I'm here," Bel says sharply, his voice breaking near the end with a sharp cough. "I don't need to be reminded of my stupidity, thank you." He turns his head so it's his ear resting on his knees instead of his chin. He doesn't want to look at Braxton or Nico or any of the healers who are only there to serve the destruction of his family. "Just hurry up and ask me what you want to know. I'd rather my death come sooner than later." Answer them, serve his purpose, die alone and hurt. The plan didn't sound all too dreadful.

He attempts a sniffle but it instead turns to a full blown coughing attack. His defensive position unfurls as he hacks into his elbow, finally coming away to notice a red splotch seeping into the folds of his shirt. His hands shake as he stares at them, too detached to truly notice the severity of it all.

Miran slowly removes his hand with a little force, the ice connecting him and the witchunter cracking. He balls his fist softly and watches the ice melt away. Hidden crime scene. Miran stands with a clear of his throat, moving through the crowd that parts for him. His sisters look up from where they had been preoccupied with reading a map.

"Everything taken care of?" Val asks as she rolls the parchment.

Miran nods. "I think I know where Bel is." There's a sapphire bracelet on the floor, something only Bel would wear. Hasty horse tracks lead south, into the forest. "We'll go south for two days. We'll retrieve Bel and then head for Blakkast. I have a sneaking suspicion our couson would like to see all four of us."

Braxton's eyebrows drew in confusion at his words. Kill? They weren't going to kill Bel. They wouldn't dream of it. Their plan had always been to try and convince Bel to join them, long before there were ever romantic feelings involved. And if he chose not to join them, after everything had settled down and Nico was on the throne, they would have let him live somewhere nice, anywhere he wanted to. They would have paid for it and continually looked after him. They weren't monsters.

"Bel, we're not going to kill you. We never were. We still aren't. We are merciful and we don't kill people without a reason to. We want you to join us but we understand if you don't want to. But that doesn't mean we're going to kill you." He didn't understand how Bel could think such a thing. They had never once mentioned anything about killing him Where was this all coming from? He was about to speak again when he noticed the blood on his shirt. He looked up, and saw the blood on his mouth. "Bel!"

He lunged forward to grab him, worried the prince was going to collapse. He looked up. "Healer! I need a healer!" A woman came rushing over to them and took one look at Bel before placing her hands on him. The skin tingled where she touched and sent waves of magic into him, healing him. Braxton was watching with wide eyes. Nico was going to kill him for letting anything happen to Bel.

They aren't going to kill him? Please. Bel isn't going to fall for their lies again. He's only there to serve a purpose and once he does that, he's nothing of use to them. His entire relationship with Nico had been a play for power. The uneasy acquaintances he made with the other men were out of necessity. How do I know you aren't lying to me again? Bel wants to ask, but any thought is violently interrupted as he coughs.

Though the fog, he hears Braxton yell for a healer and then a woman–a mage–is there and she has her hands on him. "Don't touch me!" He shouts, scrambling backwards until his back hits the tent. The flap is open at the bottom and he does thr only thing he can think of–escape. As quick as he's ever moved in his life, Bel's out from under the flap and outside of the tent. There are woods in front of him, the settlement behind. And Bel runs, taking off deep into the forest and away from the danger.

(Awww poor Bel. Nico has a lot of work to do.)

Braxton let go in surprise and so did the woman. They had dealt with enough people who couldn't stand touch that it was a habit, to ket go. That was a mistake. Bel had fallen back and found the tent opening and had begun running. Braxton stared for a moment too long in surprise. Nico was going to kill him for this. The he was up and running. He shouldn't, he coukd already feel the light headedness kick in but he had surprised on much more damage to this. Still, a few kicks in the head would mess someone up.

As Bel came further into view, Braxton picked up the pace. He was almost there, almost- and then he lunged, tackling the prince to the forest floor. There was more than one reason he was tackling him. The forest could be dangerous, especially for a prince who didn't know how to protect himself very well. "Bel. Bel! Please. Let me help you. Let us help you. You need care. We just want to help you. I promise."

(alfdjdhj Bel is Not having a very good time)

Bel runs and runs and runs, though he knows he won't get far, he just has to get away. He's inevitably halted and tackled to the ground. With a cry, Bel tried to struggle his way out, but its no use. "No, you don't want to help me– You'll just lie to me again." He goes limp beneath Braxton, closing his eyes and trying not to look like a trembling mess.

"All I wanted was one person to trust for once in my life but I should've known–" He takes a shuddering breath, taking his hands up to rub at his eyes. "Nobody's that kind to me without a motive and I was a fool for thinking otherwise."

(Yeah I can see that haha)

Braxton had pinned Bel to the ground, carefully, so he wasn't hurting him. He was using his bodyweight mostly. "Bel please. We don't want to hurt you. We don't. I know you don't trust us but I swear on my mother that I won't hurt you." Other than Laurent, he was the only one of their small little friendship that still had family left. "Please, stop struggling I'll explain what I can."

Nicos trauma was his to explain. He wouldn't touch that. But he could touch on other things. Braxton had been there when Nico was taken. He had been taken too. However, he hadn't gotten the brunt of Ronan's wrath. That had all been Nico. There was at least some things he could explain. "I need you to calm down. I need you not to run. There are worst things in these woods than what we can do. That it true."

Bel goes quiet, managing to wrangle his arms free but only to press his hands to his face. He doesn't like this. He doesn't like being pinned, being trapped, being forced to stay here–He is a prisoner after all, and Bel should have been smart enough to remember that. "Please," Bel says quietly. "Just… get off of me. I won't run." There's no point in running. Even injured, Braxton is much faster and stronger than Bel. The prince would only be another problem they'll have to deal with.

"And you–" Bel pauses to ensure he doesn't choke. "You don't have to explain anything. I just want this to be over with." He wants to leave, to go back to the palace, to see his family–or even if they won't grant him that luxury, if Bel's dead, he won't have to think about this entire mess.

Braxton slowly got off of Bel and sat back on the ground. He raised a hand to his head, wincing. It was covered in blood as he lowered it. His head was killing him. If Bel hadn't of run he would have been healed by now. But he couldn't blame him for that. The prince was scared and betrayed. Braxton would be lying if he said he wouldn't have had a similar reaction. "What did Ronan say to you two? Can you remember?" Braxton hadn't been there to hear it but he could only imagine. That man loved to talk, more than anyone wanted to hear. And he hoped if Bel could remember, it would give some insight to what Braxton was going to say next.

"How did he taunt Nico? You know they've met before yes? And it certainly wasn't under very good terms. If you'll let me, I can tell you about it. I'll tell you what they did to me." If Braxton closed his eyes long enough, he could still remember everything. He remembered the water dripping down the wall, the poor excuse for a cot, the bucket he used for a toilet. The smell. The sounds. It was horrific.

Bel's quiet, thinking for a moment as he slowly sits up and wraps his arms around his torso. Bel doesn't meet Braxton's eyes. He can't. "He said he was going to bring me and Nico back to my father. If Nico misbehaved then Ronan would kill me and put the blame on him." Bel swallows heavily, his throat aching. His mind replays how Nico had thrashed against their grip, begging for them to back away from Bel–to leave him out of the messy affair.

I can't believe you let yourself fall in love again, Ronan's taunting voice echoes through Bel's mind, but he can't bring himself to say it. "I don't want to know what happened to you," Bel says quietly. It will be nothing short of horrific, and Bel's had enough of sickening news for the day. "Maybe later." Please, never.

Braxton pursed his lips. That sounded like Ronan. The man was vile and evil. Corrupt. Most witch hunters were. Only a few truly believed in the cause, not that it was alright anyways, but Ronan, like most, had let it get to their heads. "I'm sorry that happened to you." Braxton did truly mean that. He was sorry all of this had happened. "This should have never happened. He should have never found us." Someone had tipped Ronan off, there was no way around it. There was no telling who. This had never happened, not in that town. They had come and gone so many times, not once had anyone ever given them away.

"Please, let me take you back. At least have a nurse look at you. I won't let our mages touch you without permission." Braxton didn't understand where his fear was coming from but he certainly wasn't going to force the prince to let a mage look at him. But he did need medical attention. Both of them did. And all Braxton wanted to do was collapse in a bed and go to sleep.

This never should have happened and Bel agrees wholeheartedly. He should be in Irgeven with Lady Tacia and staring from a balcony into a garden–Bel shouldn't be in the middle of a forest surrounded by liars and mages. "I'm not injured," Bel says. Not in any way the others are. There's a fine cut across the skin of his throat and an ache in his chest and an ache in his heart. "I'm fine. You're not." There's blood actively leaking from Braxton's head and Bel feels an abrupt slice of guilt through his core.

He stands but vertigo and nausea cause him to lose his balance. It's ridiculous. Bel shouldn't be like this. He's not injured, he's not physically incapable–he should be able to stand without worrying of falling over, damn it. "Let's go back," Bel says after his vision returns. "I don't want to see a nurse. I don't need to."

Braxton waved his hand, dismissing Bel. He would be alright. He wasn't but he would be. He had delt with worse head wounds than this. And there wasn't much more that coukd be screwed up in that brain of his anyways. It took him a minute to get to his feet. His vision was swimming and he was so tired now. Chasing after Bel had really draining them, even if they hadn't gotten too far into the woods.

Braxton gave Bel a small, sad smile. This should have never happened. Not like this. "Let me.make this promise to you. After you hear him out, if you dint want to be here anymore, I'll get you out. Whether or not he wants to let you go, whether or not you give us the information we're asking for, I'll get you out. I'll take you wherever you want to go. As long as you don't tell anyone." Bel had all the information he needed to take them down. And Braxton knew there was no way to make sure he didn't tell anyone but he hoped Bel kept his promises. "I can't watch him go through that again. I can't. He's been through enough. Don't let him gi through it again. He won't survive."

Bel quietly listens to Braxton's promise, gnawing at the inside of his cheek. Braxton will get him home–wherever home may be. He doesn't want to go back to Araniel, not with his father and the dark cellars waiting for him. Irgeven is no home to him, it's foreign with a stranger awaiting his hand in marriage. He doesn't want to stay here–a moving city full of mages and people awaiting for Bel to turn his back before–

"Okay," Bel says, still firmly not meeting Braxton's eyes. His own are bloodshot and red and he can't bare the embarrassment of his own damned emotions. "Do I have to…" He trails off, trying to find the right words. Well, no better time to be blunt. "Do I have to stay in Nico's tent?" He doesn't want to look at Nico. Doesn't want to think about the lies; doesn't want to think about the secrets; doesn't want to think about what Bel thought they could've had. He doesn't want to face what his own trusting nature got him.

Braxton sighed as the prince agreed. Perhaps this could be salvageable in whatever direction it went. He hoped things coukd get worked out with Nico, and not just because of the information they need from Bel. They could another way. It may take years longer but they could find another way. There always was one.

He raised his head to look at Bel. "No, you don't, though he'll come looking for you when he recovers. I'll do what I can to hold hom off until you're ready." He didn't know how long that would take. Hopefully not long. "You can stay with my mother." Braxton usually went between Laurent and his mother's tent, depending on his mental status and if he was mad at Laurent. Which happened quite often. The two were always fighting. He had been offered his own personal tent but had decided otherwise on it. He preferred having company.

"Thank you." Bel dips his head. He finally raises his chin, just a little bit, so he can watch his surroundings as they slowly make their way back to the camp. He's embarrassed. Of everything. The prince doesn't want to do anything but lay down and sleep for a decade, and then maybe a little more after that. Hell, he won't even be too mad if he just stays asleep forever.

He hopes Braxton's mother will at least be something like his own. It's been over a decade since she was killed. By mages. But Bel tries to move passed that bit. Not all mages are bad, Nico had told him. Nico is a liar. Bel squeezes his hands tight, pressing his fingernails into his palm to distract himself from his own thoughts.

As they make their way back to the camp, Bel just prays that nobody will ask him questions. He ran because he was afraid and Bel knows he won't be able to admit that without breaking down.

(Think if the tents looking more like the ones in Harry Potter goblet of fire. Just a little more or less depending on ranking and need.)

Braxton slid his hands into his pockets, keeping quiet as the made the small journey back to their encampment. It was easy enough to tell Bel didn't want to speak and he wasn't going to force him to listen to Braxton Brattle kn. There was nothing he coukd say to fix things. Nothing could be done. It would take time and patience. He only hoped Nico could be. He didn't want to have to follow up on his promise.

They weaved through the tents until they came to a homey looking one. People had stared and a few had whispered but no one approached them or tried to stop them. They left the two alone. His mother had done her best to decorate the little tent. She wanted it to feel like home even if they were constantly moving around. Sometimes it made it harder to travel but raton couldn't tell her no. It was one of the few things she enjoyed these days. He opened the flap tent, revealing his mother and nice looking place, as far as tents went. There were flaps separating for three different rooms and a little living space with a small heater. It was homey, nice. Braxton enjoyed his time there.

"Oh, Braxton. I heard you were home. Why have you just now come to me?" The woman exclaimed, rushing towards her son. She gripped his head. "Look at you. What happened? Why are you hurt?" Her voice had deepened into a protective mother voice. The sound alone could probably terrify their enemies. "And who is this?" She knew full well who this was but it would be rude to say.

Bel's silent the entire way to the tent, trying his hardest to avoid any eye contact with the passerbys. Bel wants nothing more than to shrink and disappear into the soil. Every so often, he'll muffle a cough in his sleeve, nothing dangerous like his earlier coughing fit. Bel isn't sure if it was the stress, the fear, or the sickness diluting his judgement and ordering for him to run. It could have been all three. Bel just knows he won't run now. Not yet. He needs to wait for a way out, and Braxton promised him one if things won't go well. The only requirement for Braxton's promise is for Bel and Nico to talk. Bel doesn't even know when Nico will be able to talk. He could be stuck here for weeks.

Braxton's mother's tent is a homely thing, unlike any room Bel had ever experienced. It's warm and inviting and lived in. It even smells of cinnamon. He watches how she frets over her son and takes a step back when she finally addresses him. "Bel," is his short answer, not wanting to give any other information. There's been eyes on him since he entered the camp. He wouldn't be surprised if the rumor of the second son of the cruel king's presence in the small, moving city.

The woman smiled warmly at the disheveled prince. "It's wonderful to meet you Bel." Then she went back to fussing iver her son, pressing a finger to the wound. It caused the man to hiss and bat her hand away. "I'm alright mother," he said. "We're not here for me anyways. Bel needs a place to stay for awhile."

"Of course." She turned to face the prince. "Everyone is welcome in my home if they need a place to stay. My name is Elora, Braxton's mother. The room on the right is yours for the taking. Take all the time you need to get settled in. I'll bring some food for you in a little bit. My home is your home. Dint be afraid to use it." Almkst everyone had turned to Elora at some point for comfort. She was juts that kind of a person. She turned to her son, eyes narrowing. "Get that cut sorted out. I'll watch over him."

It was the glare that sent him fleeing from the tent. Her glare was terrifying. It was one of the few things he was truly afraid of, his mother's wrath. She sighed as the tent flap closed and it was just her and Bel.

Bel offers the best smile he can, which is a close-lipped awkward sort of thing and nods at her direction. He finds the door she mentioned with ease, the flap open and leading to a small bedroom. It's been days since he slept. Perhaps that's what he needs to set his mind straight. "Thank you very much, Elora." Bel says. "Your kindness is appreciated."

Braxton leaves and Bel is alone with an unknown woman. With a nod, Bel ducks into the awaiting room. The bed is the first thing he heads towards. With a small grunt, Bel falls onto the bed. His head hits the pillow and he's sure that he'll be able to sleep for hours, maybe even well into the next day.

(maybe a small skip until Bel's awake and he can talk to Nico? or if you have something planned that's cool adksj)

Elora waited until she was sure Bel was asleep before she left the tent. She knew better than to risk him running but she also wasn't going to make him feel like a prisoner. She was stopped far more than she would have liked to on her way to the kitchen tent. She told each and every one of them to back off. She wasn't telling them anything. She made some chicken noodle soup and brought a bowl back to the ten, placing it over the heater to keep warm.

Braxton found the infirmary tent quickly enough. People were going in and out of it, likely trying to check on Nico. He wished Ambrose had been there to try to keep the peace but the man was likely strategizing and trying to cover things in their war tent for the time being. As soon as he entered, he got everyone out who didn't need to be there. No one was to go in or out without his expressed permission. He allowed just enough time for a healer to come to his side and heal the head on his wound before moving over to the cot that Nico was laid on. "How's he doing?"

The woman looked up at him, Briella. "Physically, he's fine. He had a few broken ribs and his head was hit pretty badly but we were able to heal it right up. Physically, he's made a full recovery. It's his mind I'm worried about. Seeing Ronan sent him into a mental breakdown. He mutters things every once in a while but we can't make it out."

A man on the other side had a hold on Nico's head. A mind mage. "I'm trying," Uriah said. "I can't get him out of it, I can't even get in there. It's a haze of black shadows. I can feel his anguish and pain but he won't let me in. I've gotten a couple of pieces here and there but he always kicks me out and I have to start all over again." Uriah was trying to get into his mind and pull Nico out of the nightmare he was living. He was trying to get there, talk to him, change the scene, and bring Nico back to reality. But somehow, consciously or not, Nico had a strange mind shield that was keeping him out.

Braxton made a desperate sound. "Keep trying, you might be able to pull him out." He knew Uriah wouldn't be able to. Nico was going to have to do this on his own.

Nico was drowning. Literally. There was a cloth over his head and bucket after bucket was peeing dumped on him. He couldn't breathe. Anytime he tried he just got lungfuls of water. He was gasping, trying to get free but his hands were bound. Then the cloth was pulled away and the water stopped. He sucked in as much air as he could. It was only a matter of time before it would happen again. He was tired. He was so tired. He didn't know how long it had been since he slept. They didn't let him, coming to wake him every time he began to nod off. He was surrounded by the screams of his friends. They bounced off the walls. There wasn't anything he could do. He just wanted it to end but it never did.

There were never any questions. No interrogating. Ronan didn't even try to get his base from him. Not that they wouldn't have upped and moved the moment they found out he was taken. Just to be on the safe side. The man was torturing him just because he could. Because he wanted too. On and on it went on. They beat him, abused him. He was broken. they had broken him. Nico didn't know what else they wanted from him. They wanted nothing from him. They just enjoyed watching his pain. That was what this was for them. Fun. Nico just wanted to die.

Time went on and Nico didn't wake. He was stuck in an endless nightmare. He would twitch and cry out in his sleep. Braxton stayed by his side the whole time, talking to him even if Nico couldn't hear it. Laurent and Kaillas had returned a day later. They had retuned to their incapacitated king. They all sat there, watching and waiting. They took turns checking on him and checking on Bel.

It would be three days until Nico finally opened his eyes and sat up. The first words on his tongue were, "Bel, where's Bel?"

Bel's sleep, unfortunately, was littered with dreams. Some where of his family, others of shadows, some even of Nico–but regardless of the subject, Bel would always awake sometime within them with a feeling of dread dripping deep into his stomach. He would shiver and scratch at his skin and bite back the yells that he wanted so badly to release. He only ventured once out of the small room he was provided, and that was to accept the bowl of soup Elora had so graciously gotten for him. He ate it alone and beside the oil lamp in the borrowed room. He loves soup. He can't taste this one.

The three days are filled with sleeping, trying to write, and staring at walls. He doesn't know when he'll be allowed to leave. He doesn't know when he'll be forced to face Nico. He shivers and pulls the blanket of the bed around his shoulders. He's too cold. The air feels far too cold.

Miran knows they're approaching a settlement of mages the same way Valera knows a threat is near. Both heirs sit straight, the backs of their necks tingling as they slowly trot through the forest. Treya takes up the rear, with Bel's awaiting horse taking the center. Miran's quick to raise his empty hands at the first scout he manages to catch in the treetops.

"We mean no harm." Miran had told his sisters to keep all their belongings locked away in their saddlebags. "I'd just like to retrieve our brother and we'll be on our way." Despite Val's insistence of violence, Miran had been clear that no matter how good of fighters they are, they will not be able to beat a society of mages.