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Nilo listened as she quietly moved about for a few moments, not not knowing, nor caring enough to look up. His fingers tugged slightly on the strands of russet hair that had fallen into his face. His legs trembled slightly as waves of emotions washed over him. The prince tried desperately not to sob again, but he couldn’t help the few tears that escaped from his eyes. There were no thoughts to go with them, his mind was quiet, but his feelings were not. They ran rampant, and were excruciatingly painful. It hurt more than any injury he had ever received. Nilo was relieved when she sat down next to him, it forced him to try and regain what little composure he had, although he knew she could see right through him. There was no point, but Nilo had once had a lion’s pride, and he would grasp at straws if it meant he could regain even a shard of it. This time, she broke the silence. At this point, she had spoken first so often, that it should no longer shock him, but it still did. For someone who seemed to hate interaction, she had often been the first one to initiate the few conversations they had shared. Maybe the woman didn’t hate socializing after all, perhaps she just hated the people she normally had to force interaction with. Nilo removed his hand from his face and let them dangle between his legs, raising his head weakly to respond. “I’ll let you look at my hand, if you at least let me help bandage yours. There is a roll of bandages, as well as some liquor, in my vanity, we can go in there.” It was the first time all night he had been firm in speech, instead of shaky and unreliable. He could see the way she clutched her hand from where, not moving it, clearly afraid of the pain that would come. Nilo knew that he was the reason she was in pain, and he wanted to at least try and be the one help stop it. Without waiting for what surely would have been a protest in response, he gently grabbed her free hand and pulled her to her feet before dropping it. Even in the state he was in, where all the prince wanted was genuine physical contact, he would still not push her personal boundaries. Nilo then began to walk towards the bathroom, hoping she would just follow. Nilo’s pace was slow and unbalanced, as if it were taking every last bit of his strength to stay upright. Once he reached the bathroom, he opened the cupboard below his sink, kneeling to look through it. “Wicke…” Nilo trailed, as if trying to locate the memories within his jumbled mind, “belonged to the royal scribe before he retired a couple years ago. My brother-” He cut himself off with a strangled noise. Mother, not brother. Get a grip. Nilo took a deep breath. “My mother always wanted Wicke before she fell ill.” He paused for a few moments, before producing the necessary items and setting them on the counter near the toilet. Nilo sat down on the seat before opening his palm for her to place injured one in. “She is usually rather mellow, so she I think would foal well, and your Magistrate seems more fond of her than I am.” His voice was hoarse, as if tired from what little talking he had done. Nilo was aware that she was trying to calm his mind, and although it slightly eased his aching heart, it was going to take much more than small talk to heal him. Not that it was her job to help mend the disaster that had he had become, but it was the truth. Nilo had secrets so big and painful that he attempted to take his own life. At that moment, Gennadius was just a distraction from the inevitable ultimatum that hung above his head: If Nilo didn’t get a handle on his situation, this may not be the last time that he attempts to pull such a deadly stunt. |
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Gennadius had been completely taken off guard when the young man stood, pulling her to her feet as well. While she knew he could be stubborn, the guard had never actually seen him follow something through. And, it honestly didn't bother her. Though, she was hesitant to have him be the one to mend her hand. Following him towards his bathroom, she almost cradled her hand protectively. Never had anyone helped her... Never had she allowed it. There was always too much at stake. Gennadius watched him sort through the cupboard, listening to him speak. Her own discomfort was growing suddenly. Not in a way that made her angry but in one that made her afraid. It was one thing to be helping him but... She bit her lip slightly. The pain was bound to make her cry out. Such a weakness would have brought jibes, insults, and a loss of respect at the guard house. Every so carefully, she offered her hand to him, leaning against the sink for support. Gennadius winced as she unballed her fist, the cloth sticking to the open wounds. Yet she held in the breath that had almost caught in her throat. She was his guard... meant to protect him. Her gaze flickered nervously to the liquor. "Magistrate has a mind of his own," the female chuckled nervously. "Though I do believe he would father good foals. The horse is made of muscle." As the prince picked up the bottle, she averted her face and closed her eyes. The pain came as suddenly and forcefully as she feared. Her body jerked though she somehow managed to keep her hand his grasp. A small yelp escaped her lips as the pain shot through her arm and sat in her stomach. She felt nasuous and weak, though she stayed in place. The guard felt embarrassed by her weakness. Any man would have reacted better, right? Gennadius felt light headed, the pain still throbbing through her fingers and arm. Leaning heavily against the sink, she let out her breaths rhythmically. "You know," she winced slightly, her voice raspy from the pain, "you should bring your mother.... flowers sometime... woman like that..." She allowed her pained gaze to meet his eyes. "Not that I'd know," came her soft, almost inaudible mumble. No one has ever done anything nice for her, except for Darius who had raised her as a guard. Than again, one could argue that hadn't been an act of true kindness either. Exhaustion began to mingle with the throbbing pain. How long had she been up? She had not slept well in many nights. Reaching out with her good hand, she rested it on his shoulder, her fingers slightly cold. Her head hung slightly, relieved the bandages were now securely around her hand. Bringing it back towards her chest, she used his shoulder to lush herself into a straight position. "What about your hand?" Gennadius asked softly, removing her fingers from his warmth. "And you need rest." She could see the prince was exhausted but something much deeper troubled him. How much deeper? "If it pleases you, I can stay close by in case..." She trailed off. The burning in her hand came to the forefront of her mind and her whole arm stiffened. The woman turned away lest the prince see the pain that crossed her gaze and think her weak. She had already lost her position among the guard. If she lost this position, Gennadius would be forced to return to the streets.... The young guard's gaze reverted back to the messy chamber. There was still so much to be done, so much to be cleaned up and hidden. A headache accosted her and she swayed to her deepest dismay. |
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Nilo had noticed her evident discomfort with the situation of him helping her, as if showing any weakness was against some of her internal rules, engraved into the back of eyelids so that she would never forget. Of course she would refuse to be weak, it was evident by her guarded nature. Her dark eyes were lockboxes that had been forged without a key, never to be opened. Even though he knew it would be painful, her cry of pain still surprised him, and her slender body jolted before him. Nilo wanted to speak, to distract her, but no words came to him. He continued the process in silence, needing to dedicate his focus to her hand, his pale lips pressed into a hard line. He did have to resist a smile though when she mentioned bringing flowers to his mother something about her unsure tone was humorous to him. It was completely random, and he was sitting on a toilet, wrapping her hand. Once he was done mending her wound, he gazed back up at her, his blue eyes worried as exhaustion and pain consumed her tanned features, and he realized how uncomfortable she must be. Nilo was no stranger to fatigue, the mind was persistent, and when it wanted rest, it could extremely demanding. Being both weary and in pain was another thing entirely, and both of the young adults who sat within the small bathroom were more than experiencing the worst of it. Nilo’s brows furrowed as she abruptly turned away from him, gazing back at his room. The prince remembered breaking something, but he wasn’t sure what, but judging by the look on her face, it was bad. The night was a hazy blur of turbulent emotion to him, and although the worst of it was over, Nilo still found it difficult to think. He stood up from where he had been seated, and was prepared to follow her back into the room, when she swayed before him. It was once again clear that she was afraid to show that she was nothing but at her best, by the faint flashes of emotion in her eyes, the way her body had stiffened at the very thought of showing any agony. Part of it made him self-conscious, like he should close himself off again. But it was too late for that. Nilo was far to deep in this to go back. Nilo’s eyes widened at the movement, and for a moment, he rested a hand on her bicep to steady her. The guard was drained, and it must have gotten to her. “Hey,” Nilo murmured, turning her to face him, “Why don’t you go sit down on my bed for a moment? I’ll start picking up the mess, and you can join me once you’ve had a minute. You’re obviously tired, and that must’ve hurt.” Without waiting for a response, he moved past her in the small space, and headed for the atrocity that had become his room. Nilo sighed, quietly shutting the door between their two rooms and picking up the end table he must have thrown over. Nilo glanced over at the broken vase on the floor, realization coming to him. Oh, that’s why my hand is bloody. I can’t believe I lashed out. But then almost instantaneously, shame washed over him as he eyes the shattered antique, picking up one of the shards. Mom gave this to me, I always hated it but… As his thoughts trailed, he couldn’t help but tilt himself, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he too momentarily succumbed to his own exhaustion. Nilo shook his head. You cannot go back to sleep. You’ll dream again. |
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As the prince steadied her, Gennadius looked away, her chin raising a hint. She was fine. Yet, she still felt useless when he offered for her to rest as he went to clean the room. Leaning against the doorpost, she let herself regain full composure, determined to help him out, but only when she knew for certain he would be her concern, not the other way around. As she did this, her dark eyes flickered towards the prince, watching him. She supposed the vase meant something to him but the thought was almost instantly discarded when the man tilted forward. Striding over, her own two feet back under her, Gennadius laid a hand on his shoulder, her own awkward way of comfort. "Sire, you need rest as well. If you sleep late in the mornings, no one would be the wiser of we simply cleaned this up later." Gennadius felt as though she was missing something, a vital piece that had started this whole string of events. But without knowing it, the young guard could honestly do little. "I couldn't sleep if I tried," his own words from the other night found their way into her mind. Looking around she put two and two together. "Nightmares will always find you. The more exhausted you allow yourself to be, the worse they become." Gennadius knew all too well from experience but it had been years since she faced them. Yet, whatever the prince was struggling with, it was a thousand times worse than what she had. The man had everything yet nothing. "If you rest, I will gladly take the sofa. I wake easily so be warned," she gave him a soft teasing smile, "Another stunt like that and I might have to have you wrap my other hand." It was a lame joke but Gennadius was trying her best. Her eyes flickered to his face where the blood was still streaked across from his hand. Remembering where some more cloths were in his bathroom, Gennadius moved away, grabbed one, and soaked it water. Returning, she used her thumb to incline his face towards her. She had attempted to have him do it himself but the man was clearly too distraught. "If I may," she said softly, bringing the cloth to his face to clean off the smear, "This may have been harder to explain." Pulling her hand back, she found herself look straight into his face. His light blue eyes could tell so much. Gennadius found herself wanting protect him. In one night, she had found him to be both distressed and gentle. When was the last time someone had truly shown they cared about him? Gennadius winced as she shifted her bad hand, though this time she did not hide it. The man had allowed her to see the worst of him, he had bandaged her hand, and the least she could do was prove that she was willing to share some of her pain. Her lips formed into another soft smile. "I'm going to stay here," the female informed, moving to the sofa. It wasn't as soft as a bed though a tad softer than a cot. It felt glorious. "Please, at least lay down and attempt to relax." Her mysterious eyes seemed to unlock, revealing a deep kindness and concern. The shell of cold irritation had fallen away, revealing a much kinder woman with a deep understanding and empathy. A small yawn escaped her lips as she leaned back, her body stretching to relive any tension she still had. Her eyes flickered close, the warmth of sleep reaching an inviting hand out to her. |
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Touch. Genuine physical contact with good intentions. It was something Nilo never knew he was starved of. It was warm and tender, stark in contrast to his cool skin. Although the two of them were awkward, it was almost instinctive, as if it was only human to offer comfort through both touch and words. Whatever the case, it was working, as his battered body instantly relaxed under her gentle hands. Nilo listened silently as she spoke to him, eyes downcast. After a moment she pulled away again, moving to somewhere else in the room, before returning with another wet cloth. She gently swiped a streak of blood off of his pale face, and for a moment, their eyes met. A was spoken within their softened gazes, something that could never be conveyed in conversation. What it was, Nilo did not yet know. Nilo was silently grateful when she announced she was staying, a shaky relief washing over him. He was terrified of what he could do. What he surely would do. Nilo knew she wouldn't allow him to get as close as he had. She was too kind, too moving for him to not bend as she would once again calm him with her empathetic words. The prince had gotten up as she moved away from him, moving back to his bed. He picked up the blankets that he had thrown on the floor, and set them back down atop the mattress. Nilo sat the bed’s edge for a moment, elbows rested on his knees, hands draped between his legs. Although she had implored him to rest, he would still try and resist it. Nilo couldn’t wake up like that, not with her there. She had already seen him shattered, and had injured herself because of it. Even though she had seemed like she didn’t mind, even joking about it, it made his heart pang with guilt. “Gennadius,” He spoke her name softly, his back to her, “I don’t want to bandage your hand again.” The prince paused for several moments, his unfocused eyes dancing over the shards of pottery that were littered all of his floor, a grim reminder of what he had allowed himself to become. “Because I don’t want to hurt you a second time.” Those were the last words Nilo would speak that night, for he fell asleep in that upright position, blue eyes fluttering shut. His entire body was still tense and his mind was still a jumble, but even so, he managed to find a fitful peace. Exhaustion had finally claimed the prince, taking him for its own, and for once, he accepted it. |
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Gennadius' eyes fluttered open a few hours later, the sun barely peaking up over the horizon. It was the guard's habit to awake this early, no matter when she finally managed to sleep. The silence felt strange, the young woman used to loud snores and arguing men. Sitting up and looking around, her gaze paused on the prince, sleeping in an upright position. A smile played on her lips, seeing the man at rest. His last words still echoed through her mind. Gennadius, I don't want to bandage your hand again. Because I don't want to hurt you again. The man was clearly in his own pain yet his main concern had been her. That within itself had earned her respect for him. Rising to her feet, the guard silently padded over to the overturned table, lifting it back up. As quietly as possible, she began to pick up the shards of vase. It had been big and not very stylish, but it had meant something to him. Having collected all the pieces, the female carried them to her room, putting them away for later. She had an idea on what to do with them. Would the prince like it? Gennadius wasn't sure but one could hope. Perhaps after breakfast, she would suggest going to the market, giving her a chance to put it into motion. The thought of breakfast made her stomach rumble as she re-entered the prince's chambers. The last time she had eaten was the morning before. Shaking off the hunger, Gennadius picked up the blood stained sword. It would need to be thoroughly cleaned later, her blood having dried to it. Putting it to the side, the female finished cleaning everything, the room looking as if nothing happened. Content with what she had done, Gennadius left his room to dress into cleaner clothes. Not that she had much. 4 changes of clothes were all she owned, each set looking exactly the same. The female tied her hair back before pulling on one of the baggy white shirts and sliding into the leather pants. Taking her leather pouch, Gennadius put the pottery shards inside, tying it next to her sheath. Pleased that she actually looked human, the female walked out onto her balcony, the early rays warming her skin. Her hand still throbbed and she cast a glance down at the blood soaked cloth. She'd have to re-wrap it before accompanying the man to his meal. |
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Nilo awoke in pain, not from the cut on his chest, but from his throbbing head. That, and his body had spent the brief hours he had been asleep so rigidly tense, his entire body was sore. He let out a groan, falling onto his bed, his back finally connecting with the plush blankets. He stretched his long arms out above him, when he felt a pain on the edge of his pec. Nilo hissed, fingers flying to the source. His pale fingers delicately traced the wound, and as they outlined the shape, the night came flying back to him. Oh no. The prince shot up in a flurry, everything coming back to him at once. Eyes wide, he noticed the vase was gone, as well as its shards. He jerked his head around, seeing that the couch had been uncovered, clearly slept on. Gennadius. A quiet string of curse words escaped his pale lips. Nilo eyed his hands for a moment, noticing the one covered in blood. What have I done? That was his only thought as he took uneasy, lumbering steps to the bathroom, his feeting making gentle thumps against the tile beneath him. He threw the door open, leaning on the doorframe for a few moments till he found his balance. Then the prince looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like Hell. Nilo was ghostly pale, the dark circles beneath his eyes blacker than ever. His cheeks were tear stained, and his lip was swollen from biting it too hard. Nilo gripped the marble countertop so hard his knuckles turned white. He hung his head and gritted his teeth. You need to figure this out. You’ve dragged her into this twice now. How much longer till she starts demanding answers? Nilo was unable to bring himself to do much more than run a damp cloth over his upper half, wiping the sweat from his chest and back, fingers ghosting over the scar that covered most of its surface. I bet she saw that too. Nilo released another groan, coming to terms with how badly he had messed up. He washed his hair in the sink, as it was greasy from sweat, and forced himself to get dressed. It was a painful process. Ever move of his slow and shaky, and he struggled to button his shirt. He slid his boots on atop the couch, and had to re-tie them multiple times because he knotted them incorrectly. It was stressful, and irritating. Stop. Being. Weak. Nilo inhaled sharply, and pushed himself off the sofa, and headed for the door, intending to leave. But he couldn’t bring himself to exit. Nilo’s hand hovered over the door knob, a new fear washing over him. He knew that only Gennadius knew of last night's events, but the thought of facing his father, or his people terrified him. What if they saw through him? What if someone called out his facade and demanded the truth? What if his secret got out? He retracted his hand with a shuddering inhale, resting his forehead on the ancient oak of the door. |
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Gennadius finally meandered back into her room, the light following her, brightening the dull area. She debated between waiting outside his door in the hallway or staying inside the cramped space. Her dark eyes searched the drab space and she shuddered. In an instant, she was on her feet and reaching for the handle. Wincing, the guard pulled back, cradling her injured hand. What a fool she was to have forgotten. And, most of the supplies she needed were in the prince's room. The small woman tip-toed to the door, listening. Hearing nothing, she opened it slowly, peering inside. Gennadius paused, gaze glued on the prince, his head against the oak door. "Have you taken the time to look outside?" she asked, striding in and heading towards the bathroom. "It will be a lovely day to go to the market. Disguised of course," she flashed him a smile, feeling oddly comfortable with him after the night's events. Remembering where the man had grabbed the necessary items, she pulled them from his bathroom cabinet, slowly beginning to unwrap her hand. The woman was purposeful in ignoring the prince's clumsy and upset behaviour, attempting to show him he had nothing to worry about. Still, she had a nagging feeling that he wouldn't fully trust her with what she knew. Would he? Taking a breath, she pulled the wrapping away, revealing the angry gash across her hand. "My first battle scar. You know how many of those men out there would have loved to do this?" She chuckled softly, wincing as soon as she started re-wrapping it. "Though, at least I didn't lose any money." Realizing the prince probably had no idea what that meant, she elaborated. "Most night's I'd bet any man drunk or stupid enough to fight me." She grinned at the memories, the only real good ones she had. "I beat each and every one. I'd take the money to buy a nice meal and warm bed at some inn. And every once in a while, I'd buy a book." Gennadius had revealed quite a bit to the man, and hoped it would increase his trust in her. Stepping out of the bathroom, she cast a glance around at the clean room. Her dark eyes looked over the prince. What revealed his trouble the most was his expression, or lack thereof. Even his boots had not been tied properly. "Smile highness, there is much to be done today. Starting with breakfast." The thought of food made her stomach clench again. If she managed to get him to leave the castle, she would buy something at the market. She certainly had enough. Striding forward, she turned him to face the door. "I'll meet you on the other side." Before he could protest, she had slid into her room and closed the door tightly between them. Flexing her good hand and stretching slightly, she moved towards the door leading to the hall. Swinging it open, she strode out and stepped up beside his door, waiting for him to join her. From there, she'd simply follow him to the dining hall. Push him if she had to. He would cause himself more damage if he stayed hidden than if he at least attempted to be okay. |
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Nilo watched silently, his eyes coated with forlorn shame as she moved about his room, a smile playing on her tanned features. She radiated a positivity that was shocking to him, considering yesterday all she had to offer him was aggression and snappish responses. But now, she stood before him, with an attitude as bright as her lockes. The sight of her wound made him visibly flinch, a brutal reminder that he had done that to her. Yes, he hadn’t expected it to happen, and he technically didn’t cut her himself, but it still made his heart ache. The way she winced when she redressed it made a fresh wave of guilt wash over him. Nilo knew that she didn’t mind it, that the gash was the least of her worries, but part of him couldn’t stand that she had gotten hurt in his self-induced disaster. When she asked him to smile, Nilo wanted nothing more than to give it to her, to tell her that he was okay, to go back to his usual charming, magnetic self. But in that moment he couldn’t. Lying to her, or putting on a carefully crafted facade before her was no longer an option. Gennadius more than deserved his honesty, especially after the way she had showered him with sympathy the night previous. No one had asked her to. She could had left him to deal with his pain alone, but she didn’t. Not only did she bring him back to his senses, but she lowered some of her walls, showing him that she too could be vulnerable. Nilo would never be able to thank her enough. The prince watched his guard exit, hearing the gentle click of her boots in the hallway outside his door. She wanted him to go with her, and it was clear that him sulking all day in his room would not be an option for him. If he even began an attempt at a refusal, she would surely drag Nilo from his quarters and force him out into the society he desperately wanted to hide from. It wouldn’t be hard for her either, considering how weak the prince currently seemed. Nilo took a deep breath and exited, stalking past her, not meeting her eyes. Part of him was slightly irked with his semi-forced removal from his room, but it was mostly embarrassment. Embarrassment that he had shown his true colors, becoming a prince that no one would ever want as their king. Although up until that point the guard had proved to be nothing but supportive, part of him feared that as she had more time to ponder, her opinion would change. Breakfast went by silently, the tension between the king and his only remaining son crackled with every bite they took. They spoke no words. Their relationship had fallen apart after Castor’s death, only a pitiful fraction of what it used to be. It was sad too, considering how much they looked alike, both with dark russet hair and sparkling smiles. Not that anyone had seen the king smile in a few years of course, for his happiness too had died with the late prince. After the incredibly awkward meal, Nilo met Gennadius in the hall, eyes remaining downcast. The prince still didn’t know what to say to her, feeling like he owed her an explanation for his actions, an explanation he knew he could not give. For several moments they stood there in silence, but this time, he felt as if he was the one who needed to start talking. “You said you wanted to head to the market? I’m not sure where that is, so you’ll have to lead the way again.” Nilo’s tone was cautious, experimental even. They were the first words he had spoken to her all morning, and he felt like he had never produced a lamer response. |
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The young female had followed behind the sauntering prince, inwardly grinning. How ironic was it that their roles had been reversed? However, outwardly, her face was blank and she strode tall, making sure to look her part. Just because she had allowed the prince to see her true colors did not mean that she was now an open book for the rest of the world. With a grim expression, Gennadius watched the young man enter the dining hall. To her relief, she had been left outside, away from the food. It also gave her an opportunity to grab what they'd need for the excursion she had planned. After briefly talking with a servant, she followed him towards the servant's quarters. She had visited the place many times before but never from within the palace walls. The females cast a glance around the storage room, grabbing a few items of choice before leaving. Gennadius stopped by her room and entered quickly, throwing half of her borrowed items on her bed before sneaking into the prince's room. She was quick to lay out the servant's clothing on his bed. As she went to lay out the final article of clothing, the guard changed her mind and tossed it onto her own bed. She'd give it to him after he changed. He would need something to cover up his telltale hair. Content with her expedition, Gennadius returned to her post by the dining hall. She found her dark gaze locking onto the banner hanging from the wall. It fascinated her. A dragon was seemingly wrapping itself around the cloth, claws ripping into the threads. Tilting her head slightly, she studied it intently. The creature was stunning, massively built, muscular, with bright scales. To her, it looked distraught, not angry or aggressive. Stepping forward, her fingers gingerly brushed up against it. Hearing footsteps coming from the dining hall, Gennadius withdrew back to her post, lifting her chin and setting her shoulders back. The prince stepped out, though for a few moments said nothing. The female decided to wait and see if the man had anything to say, not wanting to completely take over his life. What caught her attention most was the fact that he wouldn't look at her. He hadn't even spoken a word since the incident. Gennadius gave a small smile before it disappeared. "Of course highness. I believe it is best we change into more suitable clothing, however." Her gaze rested on the tapestry one more time before she reverted it back to the prince. Holding her hands behind her back, she started back towards their rooms. "You will find a better choice of clothing waiting for you in your room," she informed him, trying to keep them from falling into another awkward silence. Stopping in front of their doors, she gave a slight nod before entering her own room. Taking off her sheath, leather pants, and shirt, Gennadius slid into the simple tan tunic. Securely tying the darker sash to her waist, she slid a dagger between, keeping it hidden. With that, she slid into the lower grade sandals and tied her money and shard pouches to the sash. For the final touch, she pulled her hair from the ponytail, mussing it up just a touch. Pleased that she looked very similar to a poor female servant, she stepped out into the hallway, the prince's hat in hand. No one would stop to question two servants going to the market for their masters. Gennadius could only wonder how the prince was doing but she had faith he'd appear. As soon as he did, she would give him the hat and show him the way to the market. |
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Spring Month: 1 
Night Weather: 
Clear Moon: 
