Fakir was feeling angry and guilty. He sat outside his home with Charon, Mytho locked carefully away inside where no one could ever find him, where no one would ever know. Mytho would be heartless forever, and Fakir would not die such an honorless death. With this road, the Raven, too, would not ever be free and no one would have to suffer the way Fakir suffered when his parents died.
Did that make him a bad person? Was he selfish for keeping Mytho without his heart, bound and chained in the void of an emotionless existance, forced to be prey to those who would take advantage of him? Was Fakir taking advantage of him? He shook his head. there was too much at stake here to be thinking that way. Too much at stake to allow his thoughts to wander through morality. Mytho would not know better, if he was supposed to be whole or empty, if he was supposed to defeat a Raven or nothing at all. Fakir would hide the prince away and no one would be any wiser.
He could not be forced into a destiny that ended in tragedy.
"Fakir?" He turned around and saw the little black haired girl that Mytho told him about, and that he had seen but once. Her name, what is it? Fakir mused for a moment, as her gentle features watched him for confirmation of who he was. "That's you isn't it? Fakir? Mytho told me about you."
For a moment he was silent, but suddenly he remember. He asked, sounding rather standoffish for a boy so young, "You're Rue right?"
Her face lit up and she smiled. "Did Mytho tell you about me?" Her excitement was overzealous, and Fakir wondered what on earth Mytho did while Fakir was not around to keep an eye on him. He watched her for a moment, thinking on this little girl before him. The name Rue, what an odd name for a young girl, it sounded so sad. Like she had an existence that was so sorrowful that she regretted every moment of it. Though with her face, so soft and gentle, it was hard to believe that she felt that way. What did this young thing, fragile as a bird and as beautiful as the full moon in a clear sky, have to worry about, have to fret over? She had no destinies to defy, no fates to be terrified of.
Fakir watched her for a silently with his eyebrow cocked before he stood up from his seat on the dirt road, dusting himself off. Rue took a step forward, looking at the young boy's face, waiting for him to answer her question. "Yes, he told me he met a girl named Rue," he said, looking away from her, his voice sounding irritated.
She heard the tone, and frowned. "Do you hate me?"
"I might," he replied harshly, turning to go back inside of his home.
"Please don't hate me, Fakir," she said quietly. "I want Mytho to be happy, because he's my Prince and I love him." Fakir grimaced and watched her carefully. Sometimes he wondered what he was supposed to do in this life. Was he meant to find and protect Mytho like the knight in the story? Was the truly his place in the world? The door opened behind him before he could speak, and Mytho stood there, his hair mussed from sleep, his eyes looking at the two of them.
Fakir demanded, "What are you doing? Go back to bed, Mytho." Rue gripped onto Mytho's hand and followed him inside, making Fakir sigh in irritation. He followed them in, and closed and locked the front door. Charon was not home, he wouldn't question why a little girl and Mytho climbed into Mytho's bed together, Rue, cuddling as close to Mytho as she could. Ignoring the two of them, Fakir went into his own bed across the room, and crossed his arms over his chest.
"You don't have to sleep alone, Fakir," Rue said after a minute of silence, and Fakir, despite his better judgment, agreed with her. He climbed in on Mytho's other side, his hand on top of Rue's, Mytho falling asleep to the sounds of the heartbeats he didn't have.