Zavier

Urgency drove Zavier. Every branch he pushed aside, every vine that tried to tangle his feet only dug the urgency deeper. If not for knowing he'd be lost within an hour in the Whispering Forest, Zavier thought about running all the way to the palace ruins.

Two days. Two whole days lost because they were battling a storm.

Zavier could still see how Alwyn stood at the helm, Sparrow beside her, her face tense with determination and fire. Remembered the way the waves slamming into the hull, an angry army trying to break through the barricade. The rain lashing at Zavier, cutting across his face. The furious wind buffeting him, attempting to throw him from the deck. The darkness like the inside of a monster mouth, endless.

And through it all, as death taunted the crew, Zavier never thought of his life but Lydia's. He thought of what would happen if they weren't there in the palace to help fight King Titus's men. How many would die? Lydia...

Zavier pushed so hard against a tree branch it snapped. They had to get there in time. They needed to move faster. Lydia needed them. She needed him.

Quinn moved to Zavier's side and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Zavier," he said. "We are going to make it."

Zavier said nothing, his urgency all too consuming to be easily reassured.

"We planned for delays," Quinn said. "We gave ourselves time."

They had, but had it been enough? Zavier kicked at a knot of vines, wishing he could rip it from the ground and tear it apart. They had to keep moving, they had to make it.

Quinn drifted behind Zavier and Zavier barely noticed. The sunlight hung overhead, casting fluttering shadows on the forest floor. As they traveled, all Zavier could see were how those shadows shifted and elongated, reminding him of each hour that passed.

When Simon shouted that he spotted the ruins, Zavier didn't hold back. He broke into a run, sprinting through the thinning forest, crashing through a shallow stream, and tearing into the crumbling remains. He halted and spun in a circle, looking for a vantage point. Spying half a tower, he raced through moss-covered archways, down barely-there hallways, and into a broken down stairway.

High above him, Zavier could see part of the tower's upper level still intact. He surveyed the crumbling stairs but they didn't reach the platform. Swearing, he went to the wall and eyed it. Vines rooted themselves in the stone, patching holes. He grabbed a strand of the thick vine and pulled. When the vine held firm, Zavier took a firm hold and climbed.

Please, please don't be here. Please don't be here.

The mantra repeated over and over in Zavier's head as he climbed. Halfway up, he pressed his boot against the wall and the stone fell away underneath. His foot slipped and he hit the wall, his fingers digging into the roots, keeping him from falling. He gritted his teeth and found a new notch to shove his boot into then hauled himself upward.

As he reached the ledge, his muscles ached from the ascent that was the equivalent of three levels. Despite his exhaustion, he hoisted himself onto the platform and staggered to his feet. The wall of the tower had fallen away, leaving him a clear view of the palace, city, harbor, and sea beyond.

Zavier dropped his pack and rummaged through it until he found his spyglass. Heart hammering, he put it to his eye and scanned the port. He painstakingly searched each pier for Prince Kristoff's ship. When he couldn't spot it, he turned the glass to the ocean.

Nothing. They weren't there.

Zavier sank to the ground, breathing hard. They had made it in time. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, letting his muscles slowly relax. They had made it.

"Zavier," Quinn shouted up at him.

Zavier peered over the edge. Below his brother stood waiting with the rest of the small contingent of soldiers plus Joric, Alwyn, Sparrow, and Simon.

"They have not arrived yet," Zavier said. "We made it."

Quinn nodded and wore a small smile as if to say 'told you we would'.

"I will take the first watch," Zavier said. "Maybe you can find something that can be used as a ladder."

Zavier shifted back, resting against the rough stone. As he had throughout the journey, he found himself dwelling on Lydia. He knew she had Wilder and knew he'd protect her. Wilder would keep her safe. He thought of the tunic he'd worked with a tailor to have made.

The ideas they'd exchanged how to add protection. It was the tailor's son who'd suggested lining the torso of the tunic with stiletto blades. The solution offered two forms of protection: one from attack and the other to attack. Would it be enough? Zavier hoped it was.

A stream of smoke floated from below, bringing with it the sweet scent of cooked meat. In the early evening, the smoke wouldn't be seen, not with the cover of trees. Men chatted in soft tones and boots scraped over the uneven surface. The familiarity of it didn't entice Zavier to leave his perch.

Instead, he kept his spot, leaning on the broken wall. The lowering sun glistened off the top of the palace domes and set the water sparkling. Against the soft neutrals of the buildings, the bright spots of fruit trees stood out. From there, Zavier could only see how peaceful it all looked. A paradise to live in some would think.

A muted thump beside him arrived as did a single thought: this would be his home.

When Alwyn appeared, Zavier reached out a hand and helped her off the roughly constructed ladder. She stepped up next to him and eyed the ladder.

"It held," she said.

Zavier didn't reply, his mind stuck on the single thought he'd had. He'd known with the alliance it meant leaving his home. But all he'd thought about recently was getting Lydia to the West Isles and reclaiming her throne. But then...

"Quinn figured you'd want something to eat since you aren't coming down," Alwyn said, intruding on his thoughts.

He thanked her for the meal and ate it while staring out on his future home. Alwyn stayed with him.

"It's a beautiful place," Alwyn said.

"It is." Zavier paused then glanced at Alwyn. "Why were you in the West Isles, Wyn, when everything happened?"

Alwyn inspected her hands like the answer lay inside her palms. The hesitation made Zavier wonder if his guess at her reasoning had been correct: to taunt him. Even if it was he found he couldn't muster up any emotion over it. After all her presence meant that Lydia, Wilder, him, and Joric had been saved.

"I was here," Alwyn finally said. "Because of anger, hurt, self-inflicted punishment."

"You weren't here to taunt me?"

"Why would I be here to taunt you?"

In answer, Zavier merely raised his eyebrows pointedly.

"Fair enough, that is something I am likely to do. But no. I came because I wanted to see her...see you. You thought I was taunting you?"

Zavier shrugged. "Yes, after all the day of the ball I stood on the deck of the ship with a perfect view of the Sea Siren. It was as if you were mocking me with the freedom you had while I was trapped into an engagement."

"Trapped?"

"It felt that way."

Alwyn nodded, turning her gaze outward. The final rays of the sun bathed the world in gold as if with its goodnight it washed away the harshness of the day.

"And now we both returned," Alwyn said.

"We have. Is it self punishment this time?"

"No, a choice. Are you still trapped?"

Zavier couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face as he thought about his goodbye with Lydia. The way she held onto him. How she looked with her hair tangled around her face in a messy halo. The softness of her cheek against his lips.

"No," he said.

He could feel Alwyn's eyes on him but he didn't meet hers. He didn't know what his eyes would betray to her. If she would feel betrayed by what she saw.

"What is it about her?" Alwyn asked.

There was no hurt in her voice, it was even. It was a tone Zavier hadn't ever heard from Alwyn, her emotions always so close to the surface they were impossible to mistake. It seemed they both had changed.

"Did you know what you said to me that day at the port has stayed with me?" he asked.

Alwyn dug her finger into the chipping stone. "I said a lot of things that day. Things I regret."

"You said I was the fifth son, that barely deserved notice, no one needed me."

Alwyn winced and looked away from him.

"Like I said, I regret it."

"It is all right, Wyn. We made our peace remember. I gave you a plant."

Alwyn laughed at this and the hurt of the past eased away from them.

"I believe the plant was shared between us."

"Of course."

They smiled at each other. For a moment, neither of them said anything, letting their connection settled around them.

"The Princess?" Alwyn prompted.

Again the small smile took hold of Zavier. "I have never been needed in my life. You were right, I am the fifth son and my role in Loria was very minimal. Enough that I did believe I could leave my title. With Princess Vienna, the betrothal was a matter of linking kingdoms. My place could have been filled by any of my other brothers if they weren't already engaged or married."

"But with Lydia..."

"With Lydia, it is more than forming an alliance to reclaim her kingdom." He ducked his head and locked his fingers together as if this admittance felt almost fragile. "For the first time that I can remember I have an impact in someone's life. She needs me. The same as I need her."

Alwyn said nothing, waiting.

"I have seen her be brave in the face of her fear. Her bravery makes me believe I can be brave too. I know she has wanted to run away from being a Princess, from the duty tied to her. I understand that want. I understand her, we are the same in that way. I never knew there could be someone who understood what it felt like to be Royal and wanting to run away but she understands."

He smiled softly at the city beyond. "Yet, she has accepted the role she must play. In doing so, she has given me strength to do the same. With her, I want to be good enough to be by her side. I..."

"Love her?"

Zavier didn't speak. Love. There were so many facets tied to the word. Zavier wasn't sure if what he felt for Lydia was the same as the facet Alwyn thought it was. He knew to say the words out loud felt terrifying. Saying it to the girl who he knew he'd loved for years felt like a betrayal to all that she had meant to him. Saying it not to the one it was meant for felt like he was shrinking away from being brave.

He wrote with 'all my heart' on the note to Lydia and meant it. He was committed to this plan, this alliance, this betrothal with all his heart. But standing in front of Lydia, would he have the courage to say those words? He hoped he would, but until he was certain, then they would stay tucked away inside.

Zavier nudged his shoulder with Alwyn's. "Thank you, Wyn, for being a part of this."

"I didn't do it for you," she said. "I made a promise to Wilder."

This took Zavier by surprise but he merely nodded. Their paths were no longer aligned. He hoped that whoever set sail with her after this, whether he be Wilder or not, that that man would treat her with the love, devotion, and respect she deserved. He hoped they were better than him. Knowing Wilder, he could fit that mold.

"Then I'm glad you did."

They looked at each other, sharing understanding as the day drew to a close.

*****

"Ship spotted!"

The shout rang out across the camp erected in the palace ruins. Zavier bolted to his feet and raced to the tower and the ladder. He scrambled up the rungs but slowed as the rough ladder trembled under his eagerness. More steadily, he climbed and hauled himself onto the tower ledge. The soldier keeping watch there handed Zavier the eyeglass.

Zavier peered through it and waited for his eye to adjust to the mid-afternoon sun before he could spot the ship. There cutting through the waves with the force of the Current, Zavier saw Prince Kristoff's ship. He let out a breath, willing himself to stay calm. They made it. Now they all had to make it through what came next.

Zavier made to leave the tower but stopped. He scanned the horizon for another set of ships. There. He caught a glimpse of three outlines. The Lorian ships would arrive after Prince Kristoff's ship, but they would arrive.

Handing the eyeglass back, Zavier quickly descended the ladder. Below soldiers were already clearing away the camp and tucking packs into the shadows of vines. Zavier searched for Alwyn but didn't see her among the men. He crossed over to Quinn.

"Where is Alwyn?" he asked.

Quinn pointed to an archway. "She's headed off. Be quick about it, I want us in the escape tunnel and ready to act."

Zavier hurried through the archway, dodging around men wiping away the evidence of their visit. In what could only have been the foyer to the old palace, Zavier found Alwyn, Simon, and Sparrow heading towards the forest and the path to the city.

"Wyn," Zavier said.

The group paused as Zavier approached them. He nodded to them.

"I wanted to say good luck and thank you for what you are doing."

The two men dipped their heads in acknowledgment. They turned away but Zavier snagged Alwyn's arm, tugging her back to him.

"Whatever happens," Zavier said. "I hope you know that you have meant more to me than my actions showed."

"I know, Zavier. And despite what I said, you do deserve notice and I am happy you found it."

"I know. Stay safe, Wyn."

Alwyn smiled. "Go protect your Princess, Zavier."

As Zavier made his way back to the soldiers, he tried to fight his smile, enjoying all too much how those words sounded, 'go protect your Princess'."

But as Quinn hauled the trap door open and the men proceeded to drop into the darkness, Zavier felt the weight of those words. Protect. Lydia would be waiting on the other side of the tunnel. Her, Wilder, Kristoff, and a small number of soldiers. The rough estimate of the soldiers in the palace alone meant they were outnumbered. Zavier felt his sense of urgency raising up again, filling him with adrenaline. They needed to make it to her in time.

The thought that kept Zavier charging through the darkened tunnel was knowing Wilder was with Lydia. He trusted no one more to protect the Princess. Wilder would protect her. He would.

At the door to the dungeon, Quinn halted the men. Now they would wait for the signal.

Back at the tunnel entrance, a man stood ready. Once he heard the bells in the tower chime, he'd call down, passing on the news. The messenger would join them and all together they would break into the dungeon and get into the palace, neutralizing any soldiers they found along the way.

In the stillness, Zavier could make out the breathing of the men. It was the quick hush of soldiers primed for battle but forced to hold. Zavier felt that tension building in him. He gripped his sword, focusing on the thick blackness around them. He couldn't let his mind wander. It would wander to Lydia, swirling with questions of how she was. Where she was. If she was all right.

Quinn reached out and squeezed Zavier's shoulder. He knew or could possibly hear Zavier's heavy breathing. They didn't say anything, they stood there, brothers, soldiers.

The messenger appeared breathless.

"The warning bells are ringing," he said.

Quinn released Zavier. Together they pulled the door open and slipped into the dungeon cell. The stench of unwashed bodies and waste hit Zavier. He forced down a gage. He tried not to think of what these people have faced. Soon, soon they would be free. If they weren't...

Zavier pushed the thought away. He edged his body past the crooked cell door and into the lane between cells. When all the men had made it through, Quinn and Zavier led the way through the maze of passages. Zavier clutched the hilt of his sword, his heart thrumming in his chest, anticipation mounting with each step closer to the palace.

At the approach of footsteps, Zavier froze, his breath turning to ice in his chest.

From the darkness a single flame surged to life, illuminating a smile.

"We've been waiting for you."

**********************************************************************

*runs around screaming* WHAT IS GOING ON!!! HOW DID THEY KNOW!!!

*drops to the floor* Oh cruel twist of fate! Why must you play with my emotions in such a way.

*You stare down at me* This is your fault, Joy! Don't you dare take my annoyance from me, this is my time to be frustrated with you.

*Props myself up on my elbows* Alright, tell me how annoyed you are with me. Rant about the injustice of it all. Yell to the heavens of how I've been mean to you. 🤴🏾⚔️🛡

Or you could rationally tell me what your thinking and feeling, it's up to you, as you can see I find being dramatic so much more entertaining.

Predictions on the chaos I'm about to rain down on you?

So, we've seen where Lydia and Wilder stand, we've now had a moment with Zavier and Alwyn, I want to know the state of our ships.

On board with the new ships: Zadia and Alder (Need better names)

Clinging to the original ships even as they sink.

Still on the dock because you decided to not join ships.

Stuck in the water because you were on a ship then jumped off but weren't sure if you wanted to climb on to a new one.

I'm on the ship of: Joy is awesome and will do whatever she wants because she can and I trust her to be as awesome as she pretends to be which looking at her author's notes that's not really a lot because she's more odd but I'm still all for this and not sure what I even mean anymore because this is so long I'm lost my train of thought.  (Toot toot 🚂)

HEADS UP! Because I've been so cruel to you with yet another cliff hanger I want to make it up to you next week I'll give you a DOUBLE UPDATE!! Woohoo!

I still love you even if it doesn't seem like I do at times.

With that said vote, comment, follow SLAVE!