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Slowly, almost hesitantly, Dion made his way into the library. For the past three days, he had spent his time mainly in the training grounds, stubbornly going through his forms, ignoring aching muscles and painfully heavy bones.
He needed to be tired. He needed the distraction. He needed to not think. Because it had been a week since his father’s new wife had given birth. And no matter how hard he had tried, he felt lost and alone. That they would not even let them see the child hurt him more than he wanted to admit.
In the past months his father had grown ever more distant, colder. It had become harder and harder for Dion to just talk to him. Let alone be admitted into the room when he met his advisors. There used to be a firm place for Dion in the Council once. He was the Crown Prince after all.
But more and more he was becoming something else. A simple soldier. Someone who received orders and acted on them. Dominant of Bahamut. A sharp knife at the throat of their enemies.
If only he tried a little bit harder, pushed himself a little bit more, maybe he could earn the trust of his father again. Prove that he was the loyal, dependable heir to the empire his father wanted him to be.
His mind was racing again. Not good. He took a deep breath to steady himself, quell his anger and his fears. If only today he could find another letter, another quick note. Just something to soothe his thoughts and make him feel… make him feel human again.
He couldn’t help the little shake his hand gave as he directly grabbed for the book that he and Terence had so long ago chosen to sneak messages to each other. A general volume on the history of the Empire. Innocuous enough, and something so general that no one coming to the library would accidentally pick it up.
His heart beat faster as he leafed through the pages. Terence had been sent to the outskirts of the empire for additional training months ago. Letters took painfully long now. Add the time that Harpocrates, their partner in crime, took to deposit them for Dion. It was frustrating, especially now that Dion needed Terence’s support more than ever.
The book fell shut in his hands. No letter. For a split second he could not control his anger and slammed the book onto the floor.
“You should really learn to control yourself better.”
Startled, Dion turned around and found himself face to face with his father, his emperor. He bowed quickly, used to keeping the protocol that had been ingrained into him.
“Forgive me.”
“I hope not to see such a pathetic display in public. You should do better. Also, what is this? Hiding in this dusty old place.” The disapproving tone in the emperor’s voice left a sour tang in the air.
"I am only catching up with my lessons.” Dion paused, then added a very careful “Father.”
“You are old enough. Your lessons should take place in the field and not here. That old teacher of yours is surely not providing new input.”
Dion remained quiet, quelling the urge to jump to Harpocrates’ defense. He wondered if his father was intentionally trying to goad him. Had they sunk so low?
“Ah, in any case,” his father continued, unfazed, not even looking at Dion. “We decided just now that we need to do something to celebrate the birth of my son. And what better way would there be than to get some of the border towns in our provinces under control?”
Dion had to bite down on his lip to stay quiet. Their provinces. His father claiming territories that did not belong to them was nothing new. But talking about their provinces was bold. Where was the man who brokered careful alliances with other states? Who had gone through so much trouble to create a trade agreement with Rosaria that left both states content?
And before his father had continued, he knew what would follow. And he steeled himself. Be the perfect Crown Price. You are his son as well. Prove it to him through obedience and patience.
“We’ve therefore decided to send you out to the eastern border. There are three small, but strategically valuable towns in a mountain pass that the Waloedian army claims as their own. I want you to free them. As Bahamut, if you must. Casualties don’t matter. We would prefer the towns not to be destroyed, but if it can’t be helped, so be it. The primary focus is that we get that mountain pass under our control.”
With every word Dion felt his chest grow tighter, his breath shallower. This was the most reckless his father had ever been. Instead of fireworks to celebrate the birth of the baby, he meant to spill blood.
And Dion was too slow to react. Before he could make himself bow, he felt the sharp sting of his father’s walking cane against his ribs. It knocked the breath out from his lungs. He could barely suppress a pained yelp.
“Am I understood?”
Even now his father wouldn’t use his name. Dion lowered his head and awkwardly, holding his left side, kneeled. “Yes, fa.. Your Radiance.”
“Good. See to it that you rest and are ready to depart in the early morning hours. It is a long way.” Sylvestre turned and left without another glance.
Dion remained on the floor, listening to the retreating footsteps. The pain in his now surely bruised ribs mingled with the feeling of anger and helplessness. A knife, a spear, a weapon. That was all that he was. Crown Prince in name alone. That his father would so carelessly wield this weapon against unsuspecting citizens.
He dropped to the floor, leaning against one of the shelves. Deep breaths. One of the most important lessons from Harpocrates. Take five deep breaths and then some more if you still feel out of control. It was usually some more with him. And this time every deep breath strained against his flaming ribs.
Try as he might, Dion could come up with no justification for his father’s planned aggression. And after two years of seeing his father change, he wasn’t going to convince himself that bringing him those border towns on a silver platter would have him look kinder on his firstborn again.
“All of this…” Dion sighed and leaned his head back against the books that were supporting him. His father had hinted several times at sending Harpocrates away. With him gone, who had he left to confine in? Terence was far away. And without Harpocrates they wouldn’t be able to smuggle letters to each other. The distance between them made him feel ever lonelier.
Blinking the mist in his eyes away, he looked down on his hands. “I don’t have anyone anymore.”
“You have me.”
Startled, Dion looked up into the softly sparkling eyes of Terence.
“Terence, but how?”
"Shh.” The other man closed the remaining distance between them and sat down next to Dion, wrapping an arm carefully around him. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting, but I heard your father’s voice, when I arrived, and I wanted to make sure he had left.” He smiled and looked around the now rapidly darkening library. Nightfall was upon them. “I sometimes think that you and I are the only ones next to Harpocrates who can navigate this labyrinth. We could possibly hide here for a week.”
Dion found himself unable to give in to Terence’s lighter, happier mood. “Did you hear what he said?”
“Barely. But from your state it seems the news was grave.”
Dion shook his head. “No, let’s not talk about it now.” He drew himself a bit straighter, looking Terence in the eyes. “How are you here? I thought you were holed up at the other end of the Empire.”
“I was. But after your last letter, I felt like I needed to be here. At your side.” Terence gently cupped Dion’s face with his hand. “We are not completely alone, you know. Master Cerin approved the leave. Said I had earned the break. So I came here post haste. But I still feel like I should have come sooner.”
Dion leaned into the hand, reveling in the warmth of the touch and the sparks that flew through his chest, almost drowning out the pain he felt there. Letting the words sink into him, he felt the darkness retreat slowly. How could he ever tell Terence what he meant to him?
“Dion, what demons are holding your thoughts?”
“I am sorry. I just feel…” Dion lowered his gaze, noticing the simple traveling clothes Terence had arrived in. Days on the road, and he had made his way here first. “How long will you stay?”
“A couple of days. I am expected back within the fortnight.” Terence gently nudged Dion’s cheek, asking him to look up again. Always asking, always careful. As though he was afraid Dion would push him away. That he would cross a line, be too bold. “What do you feel?”
Dion swallowed against the lump that built in his throat. “Scared, Terence. I am scared.” Now that he had admitted it, he couldn’t stop the tears that he had so far stubbornly blinked away. “There are things in motion that I don’t understand. Father is growing ever more distant. They won’t even let me see my brother, while that woman is already up spewing more poison into the all too willing ears of the courtiers. Harpocrates will be sent away soon. Anabella is doing her best to remove him, since she never could sway him. And you…” He took a desperate breath, like a man drowning. “You are away, so far away. I feel like I am cast in darkness, without any hope of seeing a glimmer of light again.”
“Oh, Dion, my love.” Slowly, Terence drew him into an embrace, and Dion was all too willing to bury his head against Terence’s chest and let his tears run freely.
They sat like this for a long time. The pain in his ribs finally becoming too much made Dion reluctantly draw away.
“You are hurt.” Terence voice was flat, but Dion noticed the small quiver in it.
“I broke protocol.” Wiping his eyes dry, Dion tried a smile. He did not wish to worry Terence further. “It is just a fresh soreness. No need for concern.”
“Your father always had his stubborn ways, but he never hurt you.”
“He is ever more retreating behind formalities, speaking my name, if at all, with more and more disgust. He’s sending me out. He wants to conquer some border districts to…” Dion couldn’t help the ice forming in his voice. “To celebrate the birth of his son.”
Terence stared at him, taking a breath to say something, then thinking better of it.
“I would call this action bordering on madness, and you are free to speak your mind about it, Terence.”
“I am sorry. While I don’t think it is my place to judge the action of the Emperor, I do agree with you. This could escalate to open war quickly.”
“It could.” The helplessness was back. Dion shivered. He did not want to give in to this feeling again. “If we have but this night, would that we not spend it here on the ground.”
“Into the labyrinth, to our secret lair then?” Terence slowly raised himself, offering a hand to help Dion up as well. He managed, barely and rather ungracefully. Terence held his hand steadily though, not letting go of Dion’s hand, even after the latter had found his footing.
“Dion, I want you to know. My training is almost complete. Master Cerin speaks highly of me, and he will recommend me for your platoon.” Terence squeezed Dion’s hand. “I will find myself a place close to you. Whatever it takes. I will train even harder and fight, fight like hell, until I am at your side again.”
“Terence.” Dion looked up into the soft gray eyes of the man he loved, of the man who had chosen to love him in return. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Terence’s. He wanted it to be a soft kiss, yet they all but collided against each other. Terence instantly responded, cupping Dion’s head once more and pulling him close. They kissed and kissed again, until finally, breathlessly they stood, foreheads pressed together, each reveling in the warmth of the other person.
“We should get going, or the morning will break. It’ll be much more comfortable over there.”
Dion pulled away, finally able to smile again. He conjured a small, white flarelight. It would see them safely to their secret hideout.
“To the Wyrm’s Lair.” He pulled Terence after him.