Prisoners of War
By Dixxy
Chapter One
All that he could hear was the stomping of boots again concrete and the dripping of water. Briefly, he wondered why prison cells tended to do that, but it didn't matter. All he knew was that he was far from home, far from anyone he knew, and scared out of his mind. Even after everything he'd been though, Serge didn't like the idea of being held in this strange country.
It had come to a surprise as everyone in El Nido, and, he guessed, maybe some of the other countries as well. Everyone had assumed that the only country intent on war was Porre, but apparently they had been wrong. No, Porre was not the only country seeking to gain something from the chain of islands he'd called home.
Medina had invaded.
Serge wasn't sure how much they had captured (or tried to capture) as of yet, but he knew they'd certainly succeeded in capturing him during the first surprise attack. The attack had been on Arni, which Serge couldn't explain. Why attack a little fishing village when big, bustling Termina is just a little to the North? But within a few minutes he'd figured it out- the largest city in El Nido was just a hop, skip, and a jump away from Viper Manor. More Dragoons than you could shake a stick at could be flooding the streets of Termina in a matter of a half an hour.
Arni, on the other hand, was accessible either by water or through Fossil Valley. The Mystics had cut off any place where a ship could dock with their own ships, preventing the Dragoons from reaching Arni by water. And the valley was out of the question- between the narrow and at times dangerous terrain, it would be impossible to get help to the village in enough time.
But not that it really mattered, Serge had guessed. A vast majority of the villagers were out on the fishing boats. The Viper Festival would have only been a few weeks away and the food establishments of Termina would be looking to Arni for seafood soon. The rest of the village- Serge included- had stayed behind for other reasons ranging from being too old or too young to just being sick.
Serge's reason for not going out was a sprained wrist. It had actually happened for a very stupid reason- he'd fallen down the stairs leading to his front door and landed on the said joint roughly. Serge didn't even have the luxury of saying the steps were wet or someone had left some object there- perfectly dry and clear of any obstacles. It had just been simple clumsiness that led to his fall and subsequent injury.
The attack had come out of the blue. One minute the sea was quiet and the village serene. The next minute Mystics were swarming the city, terrorizing the citizens of Arni as they vandalized, stole, and destroyed. Houses were burned to the ground, the smoke from the flames reaching so high in the sky that it was certain someone in another town would have seen in. Screams of terror could be heard about the town as oddly shaped people of all colors ran amuck. The town that was known for its brilliant yellows, greens, and blues was now aflame with orange and fiery reds that danced in the sunlight. Those who could fight had their weapons drawn and were fending them off.
Even with his injured wrist, Serge had grabbed a swallow and joined in the fight. After journeying across El Nido and then some, the Assassin of Time had become a well
Weathered warrior. But even will al of his experience, he found himself blocking more attacks than he was dealing out to the point where he administered a strike only once in a great while, and eventually something hard and heavy had connected with the back of his head.
He'd awoken sometime later with a headache, bound hand and foot, gagged, and with a bag over his head. From the sounds of water outside and the slight swaying motion he felt he guessed that he was on a boat. Once his senses were fully regained he tried to free himself, only to find himself having no luck- the binds weren't even loosening. He'd whimpered in defeat and wept quietly for the remainder of the voyage.
Arni. . . El Nido. . . I failed. . .
Once they'd arrived in Medina, he'd been placed in this cell. His bindings and blindfold had been removed, he'd been tossed a piece of bread, and left to his own devices. Like he'd find a way out of there- Serge was no lock pick and he wouldn't have been surprised if there were guards in the facility as well.
Through the door, he could hear the distinct sound of a human yelling and screaming at the Mystics, though admittedly the sound was too muffled for him to have recognized it anymore than being male. Serge gulped- whoever it was, the Mystics might kill him if he continued to scream at them like that. After all, this was (probably) their land, and, if he was another prisoner, then he wasn't exactly in control of the situation.
As the Mystics and their prisoner grew closer (He recognized the inhuman crackling voices of two Mystics telling the prisoner to shut up), Serge wondered what they were doing. It could have very easily just been a very flustered and pissed off El Nido prisoner, or maybe even someone from another country. This idea was of mild interest to Serge- if they had prisoners from other countries then at least there would be something to talk about should someone be thrown in with him.
As luck would happened, the door was thrown open and someone was thrown ON him.
Serge and the other prisoner flailed around for a second as the Mystic guards slammed the door shut. Kicking, punching, cries of brief pain and a few tumbles resulted before Serge found himself pinned to the ground, his eyes clenched shut as the other prisoner kept him where he was. His wrist felt like it was throbbing and swelling, which didn't please the swallow welder one bit. I suppose this is the embodiment of adding insult to injury.
Quiet. The only sound in the cell was that of breathing for what felt like an eternity. Serge fully expected that this other prisoner was going to do something to him, though what it was he didn't want to think about. He'd heard stories from General Viper and Radius alike about prisoner of war camps, where some of the soldiers here there would take dominance over weaker prisoners and make them do things they normally wouldn't have done. Sometimes it was as simple as carrying out the other man's chores in the camp, especially jobs like cleaning latrines. Other times. . . Serge cringed at the thought.
"Serge?"
That voice is familiar. Serge opened his eyes and saw a familiar face as well. Large, surprised blue eyes were staring into his own with sandy blonde hair hanging just above his forehead. Serge gaped in shock and bewilderment to see a cherished friend staring him in the face. "Glenn!? What are you doing here!?"
"Same as you, I would guess- I was captured by the Mystics."
Serge produced a weak, tired smile. At least he wasn't alone in this strange place anymore. Glenn rolled off Serge and sat up, pulling his younger friend with him. The two embraced tightly, crying and relishing in the company of a familiar face amongst the endless ocean of the strange, ancient people.
Serge wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but he knew it felt comforting. And peaceful. Even though I'm hundreds of miles from home I feel happy and content now. They stayed like that for a while, silently consoling each other over what had transpired in their home and what had happened to them after that. Considering what had happened, the chances of them ever seeing their home again was very slim.
Only time would tell.
~
"Where were you when they attacked?"
Serge looked up. He and Glenn were sitting against the back wall of the holding cell in what had just recently been complete silence. The villager had been fidgeting a piece of straw he'd picked up off the floor when the question had arisen. "I was at home in Arni," he said. He sniffled, clenching his eyes shut as the memories returned. "It was awful- they all came out of no where and started to attack."
Glenn turned to face Serge and leaned in closer, offering a shoulder. Serge gladly accepted the invitation. Curiosity and boredom were beginning to get the better of Glenn- he feared he would go insane if things stayed as quiet as they had been. "How did you get captured?"
"Joined the fight and got knocked hard in the head."
"Did you get that sprain during the battle?" Glenn asked, gently picking up the bandaged arm. Serge blushed, shook his head, and explained the rather embarrassing circumstances under which he had sprained his wrist. Glenn shook his head. "I suppose that is not the important thing. We should be grateful we have lived this long."
"What if they decide to torture us or something?" Serge asked miserably.
"Try not to think about that," he offered, though he admitted Serge's gloomy thoughts weren't making him feel much better about their situation. He sighed and brushed a gloved hand against Serge's face. "When I was still in basic training with the Dragoons, one thing we were taught was to keep our heads if we were ever captured by the enemy- since the Mystics have attacked us, I would certainly called Medina the enemy."
"Then why were you pitching a fit when they brought you here?" Serge asked.
Glenn coughed. "Well, yes, I suppose you are right. That was foolish, but there is nothing I can do about that now. What is done is done, but you must realize that most of the prisoners here have probably lost their tempers as well, especially towards the beginning. I believe they meant to keep your head in later situations, such as torture or interrogation."
Serge shuddered at the idea.
"I do not think you should worry about those 'pleasantries'. Between the two of us I am far more likely to undergo that particular fate because I am in the military. Given I am lower in the rankings, but that does not necessarily mean I do not know something," he said.
The Chrono Trigger's eyes widened. "You're not going to-"
"I have no way of saying that. I doubt I was the only one captured, and it is not too hard to imagine that someone of a higher rank was also caught. Besides, I am young. Marcy aside, it is usually the older, higher-ranking officers who know major military secrets," Glenn said. "No, I am not terribly worried about that."
"But what about the Einlanzer?" asked Serge.
Glenn laughed. "As luck would have it, they should both be back at Viper Manor getting polished. My brother and I simply used normal swords." He grinned. "Though I will admit that after using both of the Dragon Swords I have gotten very good at using two blades." He sighed, resting his head on his knees. "The Mystics attacked Termina as well. The Dragoons were able to arrive in just under an hour. By then they had taken half of the city, meaning we not only had to defend the rest of the city but also win back the captured areas. Karsh and Marcy were placed in charge of evacuating the city while Dario and Zoah led the offensive charge. I was somewhere in the middle of the offensive unit. Myself and a few other privates were looking for civilians when we were jumped and dragged kicking and screaming to their ships."
"And then they brought you here."
"Precisely."
Serge lowered his head. "Arni was lucky, I think. Most of the village was out on the sea at the time. I don't know if any of our boats were caught, but I certainly hope not- Leena was on one of those boats." He sighed. "She's one of my best friends. If she ever got hurt I don't know what I'd do with myself."
"Are you in love with her?"
Serge's eyes widened in panic. "What!? No!" he said.
Glenn looked up in surprise. "Really? Then I suppose you must like Kid."
"Er. . . no," said Serge, still visibly nervous. "Kid's too. . . active."
The knight nodded. "Well, you are a seventeen year old boy- do you have a sweetheart?"
"No. . . I. . ."
Glenn raised an eyebrow. "What about Lisa, the girl in the Element Shop?"
"I barely know her," he said, this time finding Glenn's questions ridiculous.
"Orlha?"
"Isn't she a little old for me?"
". . . Riddel?"
"Glenn, you're selling off your own sister-IN-LAW?!"
"Well, what about Luccia?"
Serge shuddered at the notion.
"Miki?"
"Nuh-uh."
"Razzly?"
"Razzly!?"
"Harle?"
Serge coughed. "Too possessive- I'm a person, not a plaything."
Glenn folded his arms. "Do you like any girls?" he asked.
By this point Serge was fuming. Sure, Glenn was just trying to make conversation but now he felt a little. . . invaded. How do I shut him up!? Serge's mouth moved before his brain did. "Truth be told, Glenn, I don't like any girls. In fact, I don't like girls PERIOD."
Silence.
Serge's eyes widened. Oh, crap. What did I just say!?
"Serge. . . I had no idea. . ." Glenn said slowly.
"Please don't hate me," he said. Serge began to slowly back away from Glenn, who was eyeing him with shock. "I. . . I can't help the way I feel about it! I'm sorry, you must think I'm some sort of scum or dirt of something like that!" He felt himself begin to shake with fear. "Please. . . just don't hate me. . ."
"Why would I?"
Out of all the responses Glenn could've given him, that was probably the least expected response. Well, aside from something irrelevant and completely off topic. This answer took Serge completely off guard and he stared at Glenn in wonder and amazement. "You don't hate me?"
Glenn crawled over towards Serge, the movements reminding him a little bit of a cat. The knight stopped in front of him and shook his head, gently cupping the side of his face. "No, Serge, I don't hate you." He face was visibly relaxed, his eyes looking happy and sleepy all at the same time. A small smile was on his lips and Serge began to wonder if Glenn didn't like girls either.
Slowly, softly, and gently, Glenn leaned in and captured his mouth in a kiss.
Serge's heart leapt into his throat while his stomach began to do somersaults. Glenn was KISSING him!? Though it was unexpected, uninvited, and unannounced, he didn't mind it. Glenn's lips were soft and silkly- like bellflowers- and tasted like strawberries. He felt bare fingertips against his cheek and realized his friend- or, maybe more than friend- had taken his gloves off. Serge relished in the touch- for someone who practiced with swords so much, his skin was nice and smooth.
Playfully, Glenn pushed Serge onto his back, putting them into a similar position to the one they had been in when the two first recognized each other. "Well, it would appear as if I do not like girls either, eh Serge?" he said. He gently took Serge's injured hand and lovingly held it.
"Know what, Glenn?"
"Yes, Serge?"
"Even if we do somehow get rescued, I'll never be free again."
Glenn laughed, tugging Serge's bandanna off his head. "Me neither."
The two love birds, however, were about to be rudely interrupted.
~
First published m/m pairing, second attempt (the other attempt is kind of. . . stuck). The next chapter goes a little more in depth with different battles. Hopefully I'm doing good enough with the descriptions- battles are my weakness so hopefully this piece will help me improve them.
You do realize I will never give up on Thick as Thieves reviews.
~Dixxy