Shades of the Exiled
-Seven-
Facade
He was a prince first and a son and brother second, or at least, that's what he told them. To be a prince first means that one must bury your emotions so your people don't think you vulnerable.
-x-
Don't let them see how much you're hurting.
He managed to fake the perfect smile as he emerged from the curtain on Castle Altea's balcony and saw all of Altea's people who had been waiting to see their prince cheer in jubilation. Not far behind him stood Sheeda and Jeigan, and off to the side stood Nina, a somber expression gracing her countenance. It was so twisted - Altea was cheerful and celebrant over the fact that they were no longer being oppressed, and they had no idea what the cost of it was. The cost their prince had to pay to see them like this.
Nina and Malledeus had said to wait a while, to let the news about his mother sink in, to send someone in his stead; they told him he needed time to mourn, to grieve and learn to accept his loss, but he had refused them.
"Altea's people have not seen their prince in two years," he had said as he brushed all of the nonexistent wrinkles from his tunic out. "They deserve a chance to celebrate our victory. I can't just back out now."
His people thought he was celebrating with them and could not see past the mask he wore, the mask of happiness, of victory. But inside, Marth was hurting; his heart said to stop and grieve, to let it all out, but he refused and simply shoved all of his emotions into a bottle he hastily and painfully corked shut. He couldn't speak - one word, one utterance, and the bottle would tip over and crash to the floor, shatter into tiny pieces; his emotions would take hold of him and he would end up breaking down in front of his people. And there was no way he could let that happen.
Jeigan eventually steered Marth back inside, and before anyone could utter a single word, he turned on his heel and walked off down the hall, his cape dancing at his heels from the swift and sudden motion.
"Sire, where are you going?"
Marth stopped briefly, contemplating his answer. Then he said, "I wish to be alone for a while," and left it at that, continuing on his way to somewhere he knew he would not be disturbed.
He finished climbing the winding staircase and found himself practically choking on air as he tried to hold back his tears; he rounded one of the many corners to the third floor hallway, his room within his sight... If he could hold out just a little longer... He couldn't let anyone see him like this, wouldn't let anyone see him like this. He was supposed to be the one people sought out for strength and support, and here he was breaking.
There was a lump in his throat he couldn't get rid of, and he felt he was suffocating as he quickly swung the door open and ducked inside. His facade was breaking, crumbling all around him as he slammed the door closed and leaned against it. Emotions from the past two years resurfaced and he found himself sliding down the door, slumped on the floor, on his knees. His cheeks felt wet and he realised he was crying at last - crying for his father, for his sister, for his mother, for Freyr and all of the people who died for his safety. He banged his head against the door on purpose as his emotions washed over him like a tidal wave against the shore.
Father is gone. The wound he had bandaged up reopened with renewed pain. He thought he was over it, thought he had grieved enough, but he supposed it really hadn't hit him then - there was too much going on two years ago, too much on his mind.
Elice is missing. How much longer would Garnef keep her alive for? Or perhaps it was all a trap and she was really... The thought of losing his beloved sister was almost too much to bear.
And Mother... Mother is dead.
There it was. The throbbing ache in his heart he had tried to keep at bay, had threatened to consume him, break him was doing just that. He stared at the ceiling of his room as it all repeated in his head again and again.
I'm the only one left.
He sat there and let it all sink in, motionless as the tears cascaded down his cheeks. There were no choked sobs, no shrieks about how much of an injustice it was, no ship taking him away from his country, his missing mother and sister. He was here at last on firm ground where he thought he would find them and it all just let out from underneath him. There was nothing but silence.
There is nothing left from my old life.
