When All Is Lost
His green eyes were blank, soulless, just like he’d been taught, over and over again. Even now, standing in front of him once more, the words resounded in his head, and he was back in the damp cell. It was supposed to be his job to look out for the blonde with a snarky attitude, but now he had succumbed to this, and there was nothing standing in his way in this state of mind.
“Hello,” Jake greeted the man sitting casually, waiting for him. He descended to the ground to kneel in respect, despite his determined refusal to put his weapons away by the other green-clad individuals anxiously snarling at him. They certainly weren’t pleased with the actions of the one their Lord wanted to succeed him, and he couldn’t blame them; but he was here now, wasn’t he?
“Hello, boy,” He stood very slowly, the sheer enormity of his presence echoing in hallowed halls. “What have I said about kneeling? You kneel to no one.”
“Sir,” Jake stood to rapt attention, making no sudden moves when the Lord sidled over to him. The older man caressed the young man’s face in an almost lecherous manner, calloused fingers running over the his strong jawline. The Lord looked into those motionless green eyes and thought rather highly of himself. Even as a battle raged here in the storm-ravaged island, he couldn’t help but take the time to admire where they were in this very moment in time, the two of them getting ready to rise up and show the mainland who, exactly, held the strings.
The clash of weaponry and the firing of arms failed to perturb the duo, and when another young man, soaked to the bone, barreled in, slitting the throats of a couple of the guards, the young man and his supposed predecessor stared him down, the former raising his firearms slowly, but without a trace of hesitance in his body language. Just as he’d greeted the older man, he said, “Hello.” The lilt in his voice familiar, and the triggers pulled before the other boy could even curse.
When had it come to this? He was supposed to be protecting the blonde, and now he was shooting at him, without a care in the world. Retreating into darker recesses of his mind, he wanted to stop his reflexes, but for now could only hope the other would remember when his rounds ran out, and pretend he didn’t want to cry right now.
Finally, a foot came flying at his face at the same time someone else crashed through the roof and onto the Lord next to him, keeping his attention elsewhere.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The blonde was snarling, and his wet face was deceptive with rain, but from the choke to his words, he may very well have been crying behind those shades. “Jake English, you swore, you swore to me,” He held a smaller knife than the sword he’d shot out of his grasp up against Jake’s much darker throat, shaking a little bit. “You swore it would never come to this.”
Instinctually flipping the blonde over and slapping the knife out of his hands, he moved to place his fingers around that pale throat, tears finally slipping from emerald eyes. “Dirk, I’m sorry,” He squeezed tightly, sobs breaking him as he pushed his fingers ever closer. “I’m so sorry.”
Jake stopped strangling him once the blonde had become breathless, leaving Dirk flailing and gasping for air before the dark-skinned brunette found his gun and reloaded it, wanting his death to be swift.
“I’m so sorry.”
Without another word, his eyes fell closed and he pulled the trigger, the shot echoing around the hallows of the Lord’s festering grounds.