Chapter Text
James pushed open the doors to Violet’s rooms the next morning. “Nice distraction.”
She threw her hands in the air. “He got suspicious! It’s not my fault-“
“It is your fault! And now he’s furious. He said that you shouldn’t wait for him at breakfast.”
Violet’s expression was nothing short of offended. “Is he serious? What did you do, trash the place?”
“No!” He said. “All I did was touch his stupid gold thing-“
She winced. “Oh, that would do it. Don’t ever touch the collar.”
James felt frustration building. “What is his problem? What’s wrong with this entire castle?”
Violet sighed. “We’re cursed, James. Everything is wrong. But Will is… well, this has been his whole life. He was born here. His mother died here, and so did so many of his past selves. And the collar is part of that. It’s his least favorite part.”
That piqued James’ interest. How could it be the worst when it had been so beautiful? “What does it do?”
Violet sighed. “For us? Nothing. But for Anharion? It’s not pretty.”
“Isn’t he dead?” This conversation was beginning to hurt his brain.
“It all comes around eventually. We’re all descendants, reborn, or something similar. It’s a cycle, James. I’m a lion- that is, I’m inhumanely strong- like Rasalas, who fought alongside the Dark King.” Her lips quirked. “I wasn’t happy about it at first, being stuck with Sarcean. I was convinced that he was going to try something as soon as I had my back turned.”
James was inclined to agree, but he pushed harder to get back on topic. “But what about Anharion? And the collar?”
Her expression darkened. “The reincarnation of Anharion usually finds his way back to the castle long before the curse comes to close. Most of them did not react well to the collar’s presence. It controls-“
“Violet.” Both of them jumped. Will, apparently forgetting his promise to go missing as a form of protest, had appeared in the doorway, one arm against the frame, his expression sour. “Haven’t you done enough?”
James wasn’t sure why he expected her to be cowed; she was getting scolded by the Dark King, but she was also Tom Ballard’s sister, and never shutting up apparently ran in the family. She turned on Will, furious. “Are you still dying, Will? Then no, I don’t think I have done enough. You cannot ask me to sit here and do nothing while you mess it all up-“
“I don’t feel like getting murdered, so I think it’s quite reasonable that we simply don’t mention the-“
“Like I would let him kill you. I’d throw his scrawny ass off the North Tower if you asked me to.”
With a start, James realized that they were talking about him. Which was really unfair, because he had a great ass and did not want to fall to his death.
Will’s eye twitched. “All that aside, can’t you accept that it’s my choice what to do? I- you know I love you, Violet, and I love that you want me to live, but not if that’s the cost.”
She curled her hands into fists. “James, can you give us a moment?”
“Wait,” he said, “you promised that you’d tell me-“
“You’ll have to be patient,” she said. Will rolled his eyes.
James left, and he wasn’t even out of the hall before he heard them start to yell. What a mess.
Despite what she had promised, Violet didn’t get the chance to tell him anything that day, or the next, or the next. Will rarely left them alone together, and when he did Violet only stared sullenly at the wall. Her and Will weren’t always fighting; often they played some kind of game, be it cards or chess or something involving marbles. James sometimes found them in the courtyard, Violet going through sword patterns while Will sat on the edge of the frozen fountain with his eyes closed, focusing on something.
James had taken it upon himself to explore the entire castle. He’d already seen the North tower, so he started with the foyer. It was not special. He moved on quickly. Next was the kitchen, which was impossibly well-stocked with fresh fruits and vegetables of all kinds, even those that didn’t grow anywhere near the area. Will was right about the kitchen; all James had to do was wish for something and it appeared on a plate, ready to be eaten. There were plenty of empty bedrooms, though all had clearly housed someone in eras past. There were gowns left in one closet made of a material that James had never seen before, and the most garish jewelry left in a box on the vanity. By comparison, another room had daggers hidden under pillows and mattresses, sewn into secret pockets in robes, and kept in boxes of accessories as hairpins.
James pocketed one for later. Then he moved on to the dining room. It had a massive fireplace that warmed the hall despite its great size, and empty tables stretched across the room. It made James feel terribly lonely, so he left.
He never went in to the garden. Violet warned him away from it. That was Will’s place almost as much as the North tower was, although he hadn’t been explicitly banned from it. When asked about it, Will said, “My mother was buried in the garden.”
Will continued to be a gracious host, albeit strange. Which was fine, really. He was a strange man. But as the days dragged on his demeanor became more anxious than angry. His smiles were stilted and dark circles sat under his eyes. James asked, once, only because he was horrendously interested in the man: “Are you alright?”
“I’d be better if you hadn’t set Violet on the warpath.” He said easily. “It took me a year to convince her that I’m okay with dying, and now look at what you’ve done.”
James didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry?”
Will shrugged. “No, you’re not. Don’t fret. You’ll be homes soon. It’s not too bad here, after a while. You get used to the cold, and there’s thicker clothing upstairs, should you need it.”
That was interesting. “Is it always cold here?”
Will nodded. “It snows practically every week, and if not, every other. Then it melts and starts all over again. It gets worse the closer to the castle you are.”
That did seem to be true. “I’m sure I will be safe physically, but I’m not sure you’ll be able to live with the guilt if I die of boredom here.”
Will motioned to something. The whole castle, maybe. “You seem to be doing well for yourself, with the exploring and all.”
He didn’t sound resentful about the North tower incident, but James was never sure with Will. James decided to cut to the difficult topic while the mood was still amicable. “I’m sorry that I went into your quarters. It was a breach of privacy.”
“It’s alright. Left in the past.” He smiled. “I suppose I should express regret for being so… unpleasant.”
James rolled his eyes. “As opposed to me, a paragon of pleasantry.”
Will smiled a real smile then. “You’re not so bad. But it occurred to me today that I barely know anything about you. I’d like to rectify that.”
James loved the stupidly proper way he spoke. James spoke that way because his father raised him with a nobleman’s manners, maybe to defeat the evil that festered in him. Cyprian was the same, though he came from a long line of knights with a fabulous demeanor. But Will was clearly deeply unsocialized, so there was something funny about him.
“Well, what would you like to know?” James decided to toy with him a bit.
Will shrugged. “What do you do? What was your life like before you came here?”
It took James by surprise. Everyone who knew what he did was also of the opinion that he was a witch, and the latter part tended to affect interests more than the former. “I’m a historian. I collect artifacts from the Old World and try to learn from them. Sometimes I sell them to more affluent bidders, though it always annoys me when I feel that they’re going to someone who doesn’t care for anything other than the monetary value.”
Will grinned. “I’ve seen enough Old World artifacts to last me a lifetime. You’re welcome to the library whenever you’d like.”
James’ interest was piqued. “There’s a library?”
“Yes, in the North wing. Before the entrance to the tower.”
“Ah.” That would be why he’d never seen it. He had avoided that part of the tower like the plague. “I wasn’t sure what else was off-limits.”
“You’re alright. Though, please never do it again. That collar is not safe.”
“What does it do?” James asked, on the edge of exasperation.
Will sighed. “Not now, alright? Get settled, and when I feel like you won’t run for the woods, I’ll tell you. Deal?”
James scowled. “Not a deal. Violet said that it would only affect a reincarnation of Anharion anyway, correct? And I’m not him.”
Will said nothing for a while. Then, “Why did the villagers bring you here?”
James pursed his lips. “That is also off-limits.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing that this castle hasn’t seen before,” Will said.
“It’s nothing. Leave it.” James said, but Will took on an agitated tone.
“I saw you heal, that first day. James, if you have-“
“I told you to leave it! You don’t need to worry about me. I won’t use… I won’t do anything against you.”
Will furrowed his brows, held his gaze, began to say something when they heard a great roar from the foyer.
“WHERE IS HE?”
James froze. He knew that voice. But he couldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here.
Will had also gone pale. Well, paler than usual. “Who-“
James bolted out of the room. Will was at his heels, and then in front of him, skidding to a stop at the top of the stairs. On the floor stood Cyprian, the draft blowing his ponytail over his shoulder. Violet stood a few paces in front of him, sword drawn, but she seemed to be waiting for the others. She attempted to call out a warning, but Cyprian saw Will before her words could register. He pointed his sword at Will as soon as he was in view. “Where is the Dark King?”
Will tried to placate him. “I am him. I’m not sure who you are, but I don’t want any conflict-“
Cyprian’s arm didn’t waver. “Let my brother go.”
Violet had joined Will’s side. He looked over at James, still wholly plastered against the wall, out of sight. He raised an eyebrow. James rolled his eyes. Their silent conversation went something like:
He’s your brother?
Unfortunately.
I didn’t know you had a brother, or perhaps, you don’t look much alike.
I have a responsibility, is more like it, or perhaps, Some people are orphans, Will.
Will addressed Cyprian when he spoke next. “I can’t do that. I assume you’re here for James-“
Cyprian grit his teeth and flipped the sword point-down. “Is he dead?”
Will shook his head quickly. “No! Nothing of the sort. Only, it’s a bit more complicated-“
James wondered if he should interrupt, but Violet shot him a look that said wait.
“I’m not leaving unless he’s with me.” Cyprian insisted.
“I think you’ll find yourself staying regardless,” Will muttered. Violet laughed, which only seemed to make Cyprian angrier. The idiot. A noble, brave idiot.
“Fight me, you coward!”
Violet whistled. “Aw, Will. I think you have to fight him now.”
Will sighed. “Damn. Let me fetch Ekthalion, for the sake of efficiency.”
Violet’s mood soured instantly. “That wasn’t funny, Will. That sword gives me the creeps.”
He bowed his head. “My apologies. I have no intention of fighting.”
Cyprian didn’t relax, so James stepped out from the wall and joined the entourage at the top of the stairs. “Cyprian.”
“You’re alright!” Cyprian wasted no time in rushing up to James and making sure he was uninjured. Always so unguarded and genuine, but James secretly hoped he’d never change.
“How did you get here? Why did you come after me?” After James got over his initial shock he felt familiar annoyance at his charge. Well, that was unfair. Cyprian was his little brother in everything but blood, but the day James told him that was the day he died. “You shouldn’t do things that will put suspicion on you. It’s bad enough, what they say about me.”
Cyprian narrowed his eyes. “That’s an odd way to express gratitude for coming to rescue you from these…”
He didn’t seem to know what to make of the others. Will gracelessly blew a piece of his hair out of his eye. His hand flexed, then brushed the top of his head as though he was wishing he had his crown. Cyprian did a visible double-take when he realized that Violet was a girl rather than a boy. All of the women in town were properly-dressed and poised. Violet wore trousers and a tunic that went down to her knees, with a heavy coat and boots to protect her against the snow.
Cyprian inched closer to James’ side. “Can we leave now? If you’re alright?”
And then, ever the teenage boy, he whispered, “Is there food though? I had to sneak out before dawn and I didn’t get any breakfast.”
James looked at his- their- hosts, then back at Cyprian. “You may want to sit down for a while.
Then, to Will, “Do you have any more of those biscuits?”
. . .
Violet wasn’t sure what to make of the newcomer.
She was already of the opinion that he was too honest, if not with his words then with his face, though that may have had everything to do with living with Will. She loved him, of course, and he had held her together after she’d left home (left Tom) but no one could deny that he was a liar. Cyprian did not have any talent for deception. He also couldn’t keep his disdain for her off his face.
Which was alright. She’d known, growing up in that tiny mountainside town, that she wasn’t palatable to everyone. Especially those who expected her to be married by now. Though, no one wanted a girl as dark (or brash or strong or loud) as her, and eventually her father decided that they needed to cut their losses.
Violet Ballard was a loss.
She hadn’t expected that mindset from anyone related to James, who had barely batted an eye when he first saw her. Granted, he had also been half-frozen and bleary-eyed with a lack of sleep. Bloody but uninjured.
They all sat in the parlor together eating those dry, overly salty biscuits that Will chewed on for far too long when he was stressed. Cyprian slathered his in jelly, and didn’t ask about how the jar of it appeared from thin air. He stared at it, wide-eyed for too long though. James sat rigidly and ignored the display of magic. Violet took her place by the fire and listened as they gave yet another person a sales pitch for a prison. He did not take it well.
At least Violet didn’t need to strong arm him into a lesser reaction. He seemed stronger than James, and a precursory assessment proved that he didn’t have a scrawny ass to be thrown off the North Tower if he proved to be a problem.
Mostly he just complained. He was good at that. A whiny little brother at heart, Violet thought, though he seemed troubled when Will explained that he would die soon.
“But can’t anything be done?” He asked.
Will shook his head and didn’t look at James. “I’m afraid not.”
Cyprian frowned. “But is there anything that I can do while I’m here? I’d hate to be useless.”
“I wouldn’t describe it as being useless,” Will responded. “Magic takes care of all of the chores. There’s not much to be done.”
He slumped in his seat. A stark difference to his form when he was pointing a sword at Will. A wicked thought crossed Violet’s mind. “Magic cant give me a good fight. Do you know how to use that sword, pretty boy, or was that all just for show?”