Roxas sighed to himself as he stood guard, leaning against his pike. It was another boring day down in the cells.
I wish I didn't have to do this. Roxas thought gloomily as he glanced into the dungeons. The torches shed a flickering light, barely illuminating the dark stone. The cells had been built when the town was much larger and hosted an earl. Now there was no nobility to use them but they did make a handy holding area for criminals. Which was what the earl had used them for too, really, save the occasional war prisoner or spy.
The last thing he'd wanted to be as a boy had been a prison guard. Roxas had dreamed of being apprenticed to a painter or perhaps even a wizard. But painting was a sure road to penury, as his father liked to say, and real magic was governed by the church. They only accepted well-educated teenagers for that and by the time Roxas had been old enough he'd learned enough about himself to have lost his enthusiasm for it. His father had been a bit surprised but pleased when Roxas had rejected the possibility, since it meant he could go into the family business.
Business. Ah yes. Roxas sighed to himself. His father was the mayor, a very important position in a town this small. He dealt with all the low justice and handled the tithes to the King and church. That made him less than popular with the poor but who gave a damn what they thought? The merchants and the artisans were the only classes that concerned his father. The nobles were too far above him and the impecunious were the dirt under his shoes. That bothered Roxas more than a bit. He was the youngest of five children and his mother had died not long after his birth, so Roxas had gotten to know the lower classes a bit more than the rest of his family. Nursemaids came from the common folks and while his tutor had been gentry, he'd fallen badly on hard times...
Shaking away the thoughts he recalled himself to his duty. Carefully setting his pike against the wall, he filled up a small bowl with water and grabbed a few pieces of rather stale bread. There was only one prisoner in at the moment. Roxas wasn't sure what the man had done but he'd been given no better fare, so whoever he was, he wasn't important. When a merchant or artisan graced the cells his or her family usually paid a little to ensure they had better food and lighter treatment. Although Roxas wasn't one to abuse the prisoners, unlike some of the other guards.
As he ventured deep into the passages Roxas heard a soft whistling. It was slow and mournful. He paused a moment, listening, before he shook his head and slapped the bars of the cells. The clatter stopped the whistling.
"Food." He said briskly as he walked up to the cell. The man inside leaned against the bars, his hands hanging out between the thick metal. Roxas was careful not to come into his reach, setting the water and food into a tray that he slipped into the cell with a prod of his foot. He was being more careful than usual with this prisoner, although he'd shown no violent tendencies. But his arms were very long. Green eyes flicked down and lips curled before the man glanced back up. Roxas was struck by his hair, as always. Even in the dim light of the dungeons it shone a fiery red.
"Thank you." He said politely even though he clearly didn't mean it. Roxas hesitated a moment. He normally didn't talk to prisoners. There was no point. But this one...
"What are you in here for?" He asked, not expecting the truth. Prisoners lied all the time. The stranger gave him a small, sad smile before he replied.
"I killed my brother." Roxas caught his breath at that, startled by the honesty of the answer. "It was an accident but, well." The redhead shrugged slightly. "I'm no one important." The resignation in his voice was especially painful since Roxas knew it was true. His father claimed to give out fair justice but it always seemed to bend toward those who had coins. The man reached down, picking up a piece of bread and examining it. "Trying to starve me? I suppose it doesn't matter." He bit into the bread, working off a corner.
"How did you kill your brother by accident?" Roxas asked unwillingly, aware he shouldn't be doing this. It was none of his business how the redhead had gotten here. If his father knew about this there would be words. The redhead paused in the act of chewing and glanced up, his green eyes surprised.
"We - " He coughed on the dry bread and had to take a sip of the water before he spoke. "We had a fight over a woman. My brother drew a knife. I grabbed his hand and tried to get it away from him and he tripped and fell right onto me." His voice was full of regret. "Just stupid idiocy and now he's not here." The redhead swallowed and shook his head. "Don't worry about me. I'm due to be hung in a week." Roxas flinched internally at that. That was the correct punishment for murder, especially kinslaying.
"I'll bring you some more water later." Roxas said briskly and the redhead dipped his head in acknowledgement. They said nothing more as Roxas continued on his rounds, just checking the prison although there was no one else to feed. Then the blonde went back to his pike but he couldn't stop thinking about the redhead. The way he looked in the dark, those green eyes flashing...
It was so strange. He didn't even know his name.
As days stretched out, Roxas couldn't quite put the man out of his mind. A few casual questions and observations with the other guards netted him plenty of details. The man was named Axel and he'd been a common carpenter, mostly working on the boats by the river docks. Not a guild member of course. Just low work on the tramp freighters. Rumor said his brother had been a petty thief of some sort.
The redhead's story seemed to be true. From what Roxas could gather, the only thing he'd left out was that they'd both been drunk and had fought over a whore. Roxas had to be careful, but a few mugs at the tavern and a quick chat with the barmaid gave him a bit more information. People were saying that when his brother fell, Axel had desperately tried to staunch the bleeding. That was how the town guard had found him. His brother had died a short time later. It was all very sad and the talk of the town, but no one really cared about the redhead's fate. He wasn't anyone important.
Roxas yawned, rolling over and looking for a sleep that wouldn't come. His bedroom was very nice. Cozy and warm, he had a comforter filled with expensive goose down and a shelf filled with equally expensive books. The walls were covered in patterned wallpaper and Roxas lifted his head, looking at the way the moonlight and shadows fell across it. The patterns were odd and disconcerting in the darkness. Sighing, he pushed himself out of bed and walked to the window. Leaning against it, he looked out into the street. The only thing stirring was a lamp tender. He slowly walked through the street, holding the reins of a mule, and paused at every street lamp and refilled them with oil. Those lights were only found in the better parts of town. The rest made do with torches or nothing at all.
Roxas wished he could enjoy the peace of the night. As a child he'd enjoyed looking over the street, but that was when he'd felt like he belonged. It felt like an eternity ago.
I need to get out of this place. Roxas swallowed and rubbed his fingers against the window sill, feeling the grain of the wood. Not just the town. The whole country. I need to go somewhere... else. He was vague on exactly where. But he had to go. If he stayed, his family would insist he get married. In fact, his father was already trying to find him a bride and that was giving him nightmares. How would everyone react when they found out he... couldn't? He didn't even want to guess. He knew it wouldn't be pretty and they would probably end up sending him to the priesthood. Roxas felt a chill at the thought. It would be better for him just to go to the priesthood now, before everyone found out, but... That is not an option.
Another option had been quietly percolating through his mind for quite some time but until now, he just hadn't had the courage to leave. To cut and run, really, since his father would send the guard after him as soon as he realized what Roxas had done. And to give his father the credit he deserved, he would be worried sick about his youngest son. Roxas swallowed as he thought about that. They weren't really close – they were too different – but he knew his father cared. That just made things worse though. If his father hadn't cared as much, he might not have tried to arrange a good marriage for his youngest...
After a long hesitation, he finally came to a decision. That gave him a measure of peace and the blond went back to bed, curling up under the warm covers and finally finding sleep.
He'd make his preparations in the morning.
Roxas bit his lip as he listened to the whistling. This was the most chancy part of his plan. He knew how Axel would react, how any reasonable person would react, but could he trust it? He just didn't know. There was no way to know. Taking a deep breath, he walked clattered the bars and the whistling stopped.
"You again." The redhead observed. Roxas noticed he was looking pale and a bit unhealthy. Not surprising, though, for almost a week on starvation rations. "You don't have to feed me, you know. I don't really need it." The fatalism in his voice made the blonde wince. But then, his execution was scheduled for tomorrow.
"It's not that." Roxas said and hesitated before resting a hand against the bars. That was put him in easy reach of the redhead and made Axel look at him strangely. "Do you want to get out of here?" He asked and the redhead's eyebrows lifted in surprise before suddenly coming down in a scowl.
"Don't bullshit me." Axel's voice was harsh and Roxas winced to himself. Of course Axel wouldn't believe him at first. "You'll get me out if I suck your dick? Is that the deal?"
"What? No!" Roxas said, shocked. Did the other guards do that? He knew they beat up the prisoners sometimes but surely they wouldn't... but then, no one would believe the prisoners if they talked about THAT. And if they did it would only make their punishment worse. There were more terrible things than hanging. "No. I – I need to leave. Please, will you come with me?" Roxas knew his voice was verging on pleading. But he needed help. He needed someone to go with him and Axel seemed honest, even if it was a large chance to take. The redhead's eyes widened and he hesitated a moment before speaking, his tone cautious.
"I'd be a fool to say no. But why would you need to leave? You're the mayor's son. Have you gotten into trouble...?" Roxas' flushed slightly at Axel's gently insinuating tone. He knew exactly what the redhead was suggesting and it was so far from the truth it was almost funny. He shook his head.
"Nothing like that." He said and continued quickly as Axel frowned again. "I just have to – have to go." Roxas swallowed hard. After years of secrecy, this was hard to say. "I – I like men." Axel's eyes widened and Roxas quickly hurried on. "I can't stay. You know what the priests would do if I... and my father wants me to get married." Roxas' voice cracked and Axel swallowed. "I just don't have the strength to go alone. Please come with me. Please." It was ridiculous to be begging a man being held for execution but it didn't feel that way. Not with the confession he'd just made. Would Axel be disgusted? Would he accept just to stab him in the back later? Roxas shivered as he felt the redhead's hand close over his and looked up to meet bright green eyes.
"I admit, that's the last thing I expected from you." Axel's voice was warm, but it quickly turned serious. "Have you prepared? The mayor will have the King's men after us. We'll have to duck over the border for certain." Roxas nodded. The town was a week away from the border. It would be a very hard ride but he thought they would have a good chance.
"Yes, two horses and a mule with supplies." Roxas hadn't really wanted to take the mule. That would make it very obvious to his father what he was doing but he would need the extra gear, and the horses couldn't carry it all and still make good time. "I took everything I could." He felt bad about that too. Roxas had been saving his wages but he knew he would need more, so he'd taken anything valuable he could. "So you'll go with me?" Axel laughed and Roxas flushed.
"I'd be insane to say no. But I can't promise you anything but a companion on the road." Axel's voice had a clear warning and Roxas nodded, feeling more relieved than anything. He was attracted to the redhead... oh yes, he most certainly was... but if Axel had offered more he'd have been worried about betrayal. The redhead clearly liked women.
"That's all I want." Roxas found the keyring and took the first step, unlocking the door. "I have some clothes for you." Axel's current ones were dirty and ragged. He would need better on the trip. Axel nodded and took the bundle of clothes, quickly changing as Roxas looked away.
It didn't take very long for them to make their escape. Roxas was the only evening guard tonight. Usually there was two, but for the past couple of weeks his usual partner had been sick. That was fortunate now and soon they were riding out of town. Axel was wearing a heavy cloak to hide his red hair, although that was probably futile. But they'd need the cloak later anyway. It was autumn and the air was already bitingly cold.
As they rode in silence Roxas couldn't help but feel doubts. Had this really been the best thing to do? Would Axel be reliable? He really didn't know anything about the redhead except that he wasn't a liar. That had seemed like enough, but was it? Still, he couldn't stay. One thing that was emblazoned on his memory was a case his father had tried when he was just a child. Two men had been caught together. He couldn't remember the details but he remembered the punishment... they had been burned together. Roxas shivered as he remembered the screams.
"Do you have anything to eat?" Axel asked and Roxas blinked, realizing they were safely out of the town. From the way Axel pushed back his hood, that was all the redhead had been waiting for.
"Oh, yes." Roxas opened one of the saddlebags and pulled out a pork pie. He'd asked the cooks if he could have one for a snack and they'd supplied it with no suspicions. Axel smiled as he accepted it and ate slowly, despite his obvious hunger. Roxas smiled to himself as he saw that. In the prison, especially awaiting execution, some men and women seemed to lose their minds. Axel clearly hadn't. It wasn't much, but it was a positive sign.
That was all he had.
Axel flicked back his hair, eyeing the mule with disfavour. It eyed him right back, clearly contemplating some kind of wickedness. Roxas had told him the creature was named Bitch, for clear and obvious reasons.
"Do you want to get groomed or not, you stupid creature?" Axel groused at her. There was a soft laugh behind him and Axel turned to look at Roxas. The blonde was blanketing one of the horses and smiling.
"She loves being groomed. Let me show you." Axel smiled ruefully and surrendered the brush as Roxas walked over. The mule quickly relaxed as experienced hands touched her and Axel watched intently as Roxas brushed away the dirt and mud that were accumulating on her coat. They weren't going to bathe the horses, of course – they only had the water they were carrying and it was too cold – but there was no reason to leave the dirt on. "Now, checking her hooves is a bit tricky." Roxas admitted. The mule tried to kick him then snorted as he jumped aside and slapped her, hard. "She'll respect you if you're firm. But don't beat her. Mules are pretty smart and they'll remember being beaten."
"Mmm, okay." With a bit of coaching and careful watching of hooves and teeth, Axel was finally able to handle the mule mare. She seemed offended by the whole business. "Thanks Roxas."
"It's no problem." Axel smiled as he blanketed the mule. She probably didn't need it, but the weather was promising to turn foul and their mounts were very important. He was a city boy and had never spent this much time with horses before, but he knew very well how much they cost. And a good mule was even more expensive. "Here." Axel lifted his eyebrows as Roxas handed him a packet of food. It was a rather squashed, rye bread sandwich. A bite told him it was pork pate and relish. Not his favourite combination but certainly better than going hungry. "That's the last of the fresh food. After that everything is trail bread." Roxas sounded apologetic. Axel glanced up, seeing the blonde looking at nervously.
"That's just fine. It sure beats that crap I ate in the dungeons." He said with a grin. Roxas smiled back and they ate in silence for a while. Axel pondered as he ate.
Things had changed so rapidly. Just a day ago, he'd thought he was a dead man. He'd even come to accept it. A bit unfair or not, he still felt he deserved it. But when Roxas had offered him life he'd leapt for it, jumping into the unknown. It was invigorating. Not just because he wasn't going to die at the end of a hangman's noose, but because...
I can make a new life for myself. I can be someone new... not just Markin's worthless brat. I can go somewhere where no one will know who I am. Axel smiled to himself at the thought. In the town, no one had ever let him forget his alcoholic father and shiftless mother. If they got out of the country no one would care. Although that did have a negative side. They would be foreigners in a strange land, and Roxas wasn't used to not having the benefit of his father's reputation. It might be hard for him. Axel intended to support him as much as he could.
It was strange. He hadn't expected to like the mayor's son, given how much he utterly detested the mayor. But Roxas was everything his father wasn't. Axel wondered if it was because of his sexual orientation... his brothers certainly weren't like that. Axel could remember almost getting ridden down by one of them. Shrugging to himself, Axel finished his food and climbed into the small tent. Roxas followed and they settled down to sleep.
Sleep was slow in coming and Axel stirred, a bit irritated with himself and his own vague discomfort. But he'd never known anyone who would admit to liking men. The priests had sermons about it, full of you'll go to hell and repent ye sinners. The one time he'd done something even vaguely 'girlish' his father had beaten him bloody. And that had just been putting on one of his mother's hats. He could imagine how the old man would react to him sleeping with a boy who'd admitted to that.
The old man was an asshole. And they can't kill me any deader than they were planning. Axel grumbled to himself, trying to conquer his own uneasiness. Roxas had apologized to him about having only one tent, and Axel had waved it off as daft. Packing two tents on the mule would have been idiotic, when one could fit them both easily. He needed to stop being such a – a girl about it. Roxas wasn't going to rape him in his sleep!
Axel's eyes slipped over to Roxas, watching the blonde boy in the dark. He was breathing deeply and slowly, fast asleep. He traced the smooth line of his cheek, still beardless. Did Roxas shave? Axel himself didn't. His mother had a trace of the elven blood and he'd inherited no facial hair. Maybe Roxas had a bit too. It was uncommon but that was the one trait that always seemed to breed true. He smiled to himself as he imagined Roxas with a moustache. It would probably be a sparse little thing, like a caterpillar on his upper lip.
He was still amusing himself with the thought of Roxas in various beards and moustaches when he fell into a sound sleep.