Chapter 10

Roy quietly strolled down the halls, his mind occupied with the recent attacks. His lord's lack of emotions from hearing the attacks unsettled the advisor. The king didn't seem at all concerned about the Faire army invading his lands. King Marth also seemed to suspect something from the redhead. Roy would have to watch his step. Despite that, every assault was going according to plan. Each successful attack brought them closer to the peace they sought. With any luck, Lady Palutena's army would storm King Marth's castle and overthrow the cruel monarch. The two strategists had already negotiated that when their rebellion succeeded, Roy would take over as the ruler and establish a friendly and profitable alliance with the Faires and AlBaests. Truth to be told, he didn't want to be king. Though exciting and luxurious, the taste of power vitiated the mind. He developed an unconscious phobia of falling into the same trap as his friend Marth had. However, Roy was ready to put his fears aside for the sake of his people.

So engaged with his thoughts, Roy failed to notice Sir Ike passing him. The warlord didn't. In fact, Sir Ike was searching for him. There was something he had to discuss, and it had to be soon if he wanted Roy alive. He reached out and grabbed the passing advisor's wrist, startling him. Roy relaxed when he saw who it was.

"Sir Ike, you almost gave me a heart attack!" he sighed, putting his hand to his chest to calm his heart. The warlord made a quick gesture of apology before his face turned stern.

"Roy, I'm going to have to ask you to stop being so reckless."

The redhead's relief turned to slight confusion. He had a good idea what Sir Ike led to but waited for him to speak first. "What do you mean?"

Sir Ike shook his head doggedly. Why couldn't Roy be daring this time around? They both knew exactly what he was talking about. However, Sir Ike knew he had to say it for Roy. "You've been forgetting your place lately, Roy. One day, His Majesty will lose his patience with you and order your execution for your lack of disrespect."

Roy's temper flared at Sir Ike's statements. He narrowed his eyes, "I have not forgotten my place, Sir Ike! His Majesty has forgotten his!"

"Do not speak about His Majesty that way!" Sir Ike's voice was low, but the commanding tone was unmistakable. "You do not have that right."

"I have every right! I may have sworn loyalty to His Majesty, but by taking his innate oath when crowned, he had sworn loyalty to his people as well. If he abandons them in the middle of a declaration of war, then he abandons their loyalty. His people owe him loyalty no longer!"

"Roy, cease this at once!" Ike swept a hand to emphasize his point. He could see that Roy was determined to stay pig-headed at the cost of his life.

"No, you cease, Ike!" Roy jabbed an accusing finger at the warlord. "Every day, I see you submit to His Majesty obediently. Should he disapprove of something, you never try to defend it! You agree readily to him! Even when right is persecuted, you turn the other way! You refuse to help those in need and those defending what is right! You're just a puppet dancing to King Marth's strings!" A dangerous flame sparked in Sir Ike's eyes. Roy stepped back, realizing it was a mistake to show that unconscious sign of cowardice. He had never seen Sir Ike so angry before. His statement went too far. The warlord stepped forward and roughly grabbed Roy's collar, pulling their faces close. Fury burned brightly in each other's eyes as they glared.

Letting the silence stretch, Sir Ike finally spoke, "I…am doing my best to prevent His Majesty from skinning you! If you continue like this, he would see it as a sign of treason and execute you!"

Roy snorted disdainfully, "If you are doing your best, I'm amazed I'm still alive. Sir Link died so easily under your influence."

"Link wouldn't listen to me either!" Sir Ike revealed. "He refused to heed my warnings and he got himself killed!"

Surprise flashed in Roy's eyes before disappearing. He kept his steady gaze on the distressed warlord. "That just means you weren't trying hard enough," Roy muttered. Sir Ike flinched as if Roy struck him. His arms losing their tension, he released his grip from Roy's collar. They stood in silence in the halls, the air almost suffocating the servants around them. Roy licked his lips, searching his mind for something else to say. He appreciated Ike's concern for his wellbeing, but Roy's concern with the people forced him to view Ike's actions as selfish. He opened his mouth to speak.

"My lord," a voice spoke out. Both Sir Ike and Roy turned to see Captain Falcon with a squad of four men standing uncomfortably behind them. All the men had a nervous air about them. Roy felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"What is it, Falcon?" Sir Ike asked. The captain shuffled his feet awkwardly. Even before he spoke, Roy could sense that the end was coming.

"I am under orders to arrest my lord, Roy, on charges of high treason to the crown."

…

King Marth's magnificent throne room harbored the tense silence of many nobles and officials. Large enough to accommodate hundreds of people during a grand celebration, beautiful stained glass windows provided sunlight while stone columns supported the ceiling for space. At the end of the room, a simple yet beautifully carved oak throne seated a softly smiling King Marth. His eyes glanced over the people, setting some into anxious shuffles. The tension and fear in the room was exactly what he desired for the occasion.

The double doors opened slowly, grabbing everyone's attention. King Marth's smile twitched when he saw Captain Falcon leading his squad and Roy towards the throne. The advisor's emotionless manner contrasted the soldiers' apprehension greatly. They walked through the open pathway and stopped a few feet away from the base of the steps that lead to the throne. Before anyone could move, the door leading left slammed open. Everyone's eyes swerved to see the new arrival. King Marth raised an eyebrow when Sir Ike rushed to the throne.

"Your Majesty! Why are you charging Roy with treason? He has done nothing wrong!" Sir Ike argued. Roy's eyes widened in surprise at the warlord's daring move. He felt it ironic that Ike scolded him for speaking out of turn, only to do it himself a few moments later. King Marth turned to him.

"Have you forgotten…your place, Sir Ike?"

The warlord flinched. The familiar, paralyzing fear constricted him, blanking his mind. It crept around, extinguishing any rebellious flames. However, Sir Ike mentally willed himself to drive the fear away. He wasn't going to let another of his friends die. Not like this. He bowed his head, "I have not, Your Majesty. However, it is my place to advise you not to do this."

"Oh…? What courageous moves all my advisors are taking…" King Marth's eyes narrowed. The warlord showed just the faintest signs of a tremble. He kept his head bowed, fearful of what he might see when he lifted his head. "I shall be as…just…as possible then, Sir Ike. Perhaps then…you will see what I mean…" Sir Ike's head snapped up at that. He flinched slightly when he caught King Marth's soft smile. He opened his mouth to say more, but the hardening of the ice stopped him from doing so. King Marth faintly warned him: I won't let you off easy next time. Sir Ike lowered his gaze and stepped away, standing by. The king nodded and back to the five before him. He raised an eyebrow when only Roy refused to bow to him. King Marth waved a languid hand to Falcon. He inclined his head and stepped away from Roy with his men, melting into the crowd of nobles.

"Why do you not bow to your king, Roy?" King Marth asked softly. Roy flinched from his freezing gaze. He felt the urge to do as his king commanded. However he forced himself up. He knew that no amount of apology or scraping could save him now. He had to go through with his resolution. That simple thought lifted a heavy burden from his shoulders. He squared his shoulders, returning King Marth's gaze.

"I'm sorry, Marth, but I no longer see you as my king," he answered, just as quietly. A muted gasp fearfully rose. The people looked to each other anxiously. They watched the two men, curiosity burning at what the devil king would do next.

King Marth's eyes narrowed at Roy's bold exclamation. He felt his flame of anger erupt yet kept his face as emotionless as possible. "What an audacious statement from the traitor."

"You arrested me without explanation, Marth! You have no evidence to sustain your claim!" Roy declared. The king slowly stood up from his throne. The difference in height instinctively wormed fear in Roy's mind. King Marth held out a sheet of parchment. He tilted his head to the side, smiling.

"No evidence?" he asked. "Explain to me…what this is then…" Roy willed his eyes to read the paper, the distance between them making it a bit difficult. He felt his heart sink when he recognized the document.

"Where did you-," he stopped himself just in time. King Marth's smile twitched. He daintily held it with both hands and ripped it in half, letting the pieces float to the stone ground. Roy stared at the torn evidence before looking back at King Marth. The king delighted in the anger that was flaring in the redhead's eyes. He knew that the traitor just needed a little more push. He snapped his fingers, the sound clearly carrying in the room. From the side, a door opened. Two soldiers walked in with a third. The third's head hung low, his fur matted with blood. Roy watched, paralyzed, as King Marth's soldiers dragged the AlBaest up the stairs to the throne.

The king turned away from the traitor towards the AlBaest. Unsheathing his sword, King Marth used the tip of his sword to lift up the foxy AlBaest's head up. When Fox saw Roy, his eyes widened marginally. That was all King Marth needed. He pushed the sword forward, stabbing Fox right in the throat. The AlBaest could only make a choking sound before the life left his eyes. King Marth stepped away, pulling his sword from the corpse. The hiss of steel alerted him to bring his blade to his side. A ring of steel screeched in the room, following by perceptible gasps.

King Marth smiled softly as he glanced over at Roy's hateful eyes. Their swords locked together, their arms tensed to hold the other off.

"How dare you! How dare you kill him!" Roy shouted. King Marth chuckled. With astonishing strength, he shoved Roy away. The redhead stumbled back onto even ground. He held his sword loosely in front of him, ready to block an attack from the king. The nobles backed away from the two before them, despite how much space they already had. King Marth slowly walked down the steps, his sword pointed to the ground. Sir Ike moved forward with his own sword drawn. However, a hand from King Marth quickly stopped him. The warlord froze before backing away. Should he choose to intercept now, it would over for both of them. King Marth smiled at the traitor.

"Oh, but Roy…he was a spy for the AlBaest army. What else was I supposed to do to a spy?"

"Lock him up. You didn't need to kill him!" Roy spat. King Marth raised an eyebrow at his answer.

"You…would rather have your ally slowly tortured to death…than a swift stroke?"

Roy faltered, "N-no, I-."

"I knew your plans since the very beginning, Roy," King Marth's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I knew how you would sneak off to meetings with Palutena and the Meta Knight. I knew you've been planning to steal my throne ever since I appointed you to your position."

"T-That's not true!" Roy protested. "I never wanted your throne! I only want the people to be happy!"

"You…would betray your king to the enemy just for that?" King Marth reached the ground. He stood still, waiting for Roy's answer.

The redhead swallowed. He couldn't understand why he was able to easily lie to his king and plan the usurpation behind his back, but he couldn't admit it outright. He inhaled deeply, gathered his strength, and said, "Yes."

It was Sir Ike who shouted the warning. Roy barely managed to bring his sword up to block the swift overhead cut King Marth delivered. He pushed it out of the way and responded with his own attack. King Marth easily deflected his sword to the side. Roy felt the familiar fear slither its way into his mind. The bluenette's deflection was almost contemptuous. Roy sensed that King Marth was not at all trying, almost like he was playing with him. Though the resentful flame burst, Roy knew he was right. Although all three had trained with the sword together, Marth's techniques and strength surpassed Roy's and Ike's, respectively. His lean body didn't show it, making it all the more frightful to fight against him.

King Marth smiled softly at his former friend. "Oh…I seem to have a bad habit of taking traitorous advisors' lives…hopefully you won't be next, Sir Ike…" The warlord flinched at that. He understood the deeper meaning behind that statement but kept quiet. He could only watch in anguish at the next death scene of one of his closest friends. Whichever way the outcome, it would still be a lost to him.

The two swordsmen watched each other carefully, gauging the difference in strength and speed. Roy knew that escape was not an option. The moment he tried to run, King Marth would dash in with his snake-like speed and cut him off. The king seemed content to let Roy make the first move. The advisor was certain that the moment he broke his guard, King Marth would deal the final blow.

It was said that the greatest defense is a good offense. Roy followed that now. He swung a round-house stroke at King Marth. The king easily stepped back. His sword swung with Roy's, adding to its speed and flinging away from its intended target. Roy stepped forward to compensate the lack of balance. With his cat-like reflexes, he danced to the side to void King Marth's straight thrust. He responded quickly, attacking with backhands and overhead cuts that were drilled into him as a child. Against each attack, King Marth's flicked his wrist lightly, tightened it at the last second to absorb the blow. The clashing steels seemed to be a blur, even to the trained soldier. It was obvious that the two swordsmen were on another level.

His speed and strength demanded much of Roy's endurance. He could feel them draining his body. If they depleted so soon, King Marth would soon behead the redhead. He regretted how he poured so much energy into attacking, but his old friend conserved much of his only defending with small movements. He had to do something unexpected to get him. Roy swung his sword from the left and the right, wheeling around for momentum in the downward stroke. The onlookers tensed in surprise at King Marth's sudden retreat. Roy prepared for another downward stroke. As he expected, King Marth held up his sword. Halfway, Roy reversed his grip and thrusted forward. It would have been the end of the king had he not realized Roy's trick. He could only step to the side in response.

Roy felt the satisfying sensation of sword cutting flesh. He attempted another strike, but King Marth leaped away. His free hand clutched his right wound as he bent over, blood flowing. The king's glare almost petrified Roy completely. His body tensed at the demonic presence that flared in the room.

"You…" King Marth whispered. He straightened up, ignoring the stinging of the wound. Roy held his blade, ready for King Marth's retaliation. "I should have killed you when I had the chance!" the king snarled. Roy willed his eyes to open. If he had blinked in that moment, his head would have rolled across the room. King Marth strode forward with a lightning overhead cut. Roy blocked it with his sword, his heart in his mouth. He had a right to worry as the king actually twisted his wrist, thrusting Roy's sword to the side. King Marth began his assault, strokes coming from all angles. Roy brought his sword to desperately save himself, sometimes having to move out of the way when his sword hand was too slow.

The clashing of steel rose to a crescendo as the swords regained their speed. One blade steadily moved faster than its counterpart. It bit into Roy's clothes at some points, slicing the skin underneath. Roy had no time to worry about his injuries as King Marth sped up his barrage. As the traitor slowed down, more of the king's attacks found its mark. He attempted one more block, but King Marth's strength defeated him. The traitor's sword wrenched from his hand, spinning across the stone ground. Finding himself weaponless and defenseless, Roy could only stare into King Marth's eyes as the king's sword pointed to his chest. The two stood still with only the blade between them. Sweat shone on their brows, more so on Roy's than King Marth's. Although Roy's face was in agony, King Marth's face glowed with slight satisfaction and triumph.

A soft smile grace the king's face. "Any…last words before I behead you here, Roy?" he asked. Roy swallowed his heart. He could feel the tears prickling at the thought that he had failed the people he promised he would save. He blinked them away, his eyes narrowing in determination. If he was to die here, he would remain strong. King Marth's smile twitched at the hatred look in his traitor's eyes. "Good-bye…Roy," he brought his sword back for one mighty stroke.

And a blue-suited figure dropped from the ceiling in between the two swordsmen. The unexpected turn of events, for once, surprised King Marth. Before anyone could react, the mysterious stranger slammed a Deku Nut to the ground, temporarily blinding the eyes in the room. When the smoke cleared, both the spy and Roy were gone. After getting over his initial surprise, King Marth's eyes narrowed dangerously. His grip tightened around his sword's handle as his lips curled into a snarl. Admist the whispers of the nobles in the room, he turned around to Sir Ike.

"Ike! Find the trai-." King Marth gasped at the pain from his wound. He fell to one knee, using his sword for support. Worry overtaking him, the warlord hurried to his king's side. He could hear the king's weakened breathing and knew he had to get him to a safe place soon. He slung King Marth's arm over his shoulder to support him. Sir Ike looked out to the king's subjects.

"Search for the traitor," the word caught in his throat. "I'm bringing His Majesty to his room." Ignoring the anxious chatter of his peers, Sir Ike quickly moved to take King Marth to his room. Along the way, he called for a servant to send for Doctor Mario.

It was difficult for Sir Ike to carry King Marth to his chambers nor did it take very long. When he opened the door, a black movement startled him. He relaxed when it was only Dark Pit. The Faire looked from the window. He gasped at the injured form of the king. Without a second thought, he rushed to the warlord's side.

"What happened?" he demanded immediately. Sir Ike stayed silent as he brought King Marth to the bed. Dark Pit followed closely behind. He stood by the bed, looking on worriedly. "Marth? Marth? What happened?!" Dark Pit demanded again. The warlord had drew breath to correct the Faire's form of address. However he stopped when he saw the anxiety in Dark Pit's eyes.

"His Majesty…was attacked by Roy," Sir Ike finally answered. Dark Pit reared back in shock.

"By Roy? But…why?"

"He was holding a trial for Roy. His Majesty suspected him of treason."

Their conversation was quickly interrupted when Doctor Mario came bursting through the room. Sir Ike straightened up at the doctor's arrival. He hurried over to the bed. He scanned the wound, muttering to himself.

"Is he going to be all right?" the Faire asked frantically. Doctor Mario paused to nod to Dark Pit's question.

"Yes, he is, Dark Pit. I would appreciate it if both of you can leave me to my work."

"But…"

"Dark Pit, your anxiety for His Majesty might hinder his healing and the doctor's work. Let's go," Sir Ike gestured. Dark Pit shook his head furiously.

"I'm sorry, Ike. But I already promised Marth to stay in his room."

Slight irritation flared in the warlord. Why was it that nobody chose to listen to him these days? He swore that it seemed as if the whole world was out to forgo his warnings. He drew breath to answer, but Doctor Mario stopped him.

"If you're so determined to stay, Dark Pit, I'll let you stay. Just keep quiet and do what I say. Is that fine?"

"That's fine," Dark Pit muttered. He looked a question at Sir Ike. Despite himself, the warlord sighed. If the doctor allowed it, then he wouldn't go against it. Sir Ike nodded to the Faire. A flash of appreciation crossed Dark Pit's eyes before he looked back on King Marth's face. The warlord nodded to Doctor Mario, who nodded back. As he turned to leave the room, he found himself wondering about Dark Pit's actions. Just days ago, the angel Faire addressed King Marth profoundly and hated his guts. Now, he seemed so worried about him the past days seemed like a lie. He wondered if King Marth managed to touch Dark Pit's heart. Or was it the other way around? The warlord gently closed the door behind him, leaving the doctor and the Faire to attend to the king's wounds.

…

When Marth awoke, he felt something heavy on his side. Cloth pressed tightly against him, signaling a bandage. He cringed lightly when a small spurt of pain jolted him. He looked around to get his bearings. He recognized his room briefly before something more important caught his eye. Dark Pit kneeled next to his bed. His head rested on his hands against the covers as he slept peacefully. His heart leaping in his chest, Marth reached out to touch the Faire. However the movement strained his injury, causing him to grunt in pain. His noise woke the angel Faire. A flash of joy crossed Dark Pit's eyes before disappearing.

"How are you feeling?" he straightened up, yawning as he did so. Marth smiled softly. His hand managed to caress Dark Pit's cheeks gently.

"Much better, my sweet, little Dark Pit." The angel Faire blushed at that, yet he didn't want to move away from the king's loving touch. They sat in silence for a moment before Marth spoke again, "Were you worried about me?"

"N-no," Dark Pit denied, flushing even more. Marth blinked once before laughing slightly. Dark Pit leaned forward, "I wasn't! Why should I be worried about you?!" He clenched his fist, signaling that he just might punch the king. Marth continued to laugh. He attempted to get up but failed. Dark Pit's anger faded away at Marth's movement. He gently pushed the king back down. "Don't exert yourself, Marth. It may seem small, but it can reopen anytime." With anybody else, Marth would have refused the request. However, with Dark Pit, he obeyed. He lay back down, his eyes still locked on Dark Pit.

"How long was I out?"

"Not very long…" Dark Pit answered. Marth looked out the window. The moon and stars winked back at him, the night wind whistling by. He turned back to the Faire.

"I see…I woke you up then."

"Hmph, it didn't matter. I was barely asleep," Dark Pit muttered. Marth could only smile at that.

"If that's the case, you must tired, keeping vigil over me."

"I wasn't keeping vigil over you," the Faire denied.

"Is that so?" Marth asked. He grabbed Dark Pit's wrist and pulled him in. Despite his injured state, Marth still had the strength to overpower Dark Pit's resistance. The Faire fell forward onto the king. Their lips met in a gentle kiss. They held it for a moment before Dark Pit reared back.

"We can't. Doctor's orders," he said sternly. A darkened look passed over Marth's face. Dark Pit resisted the urge to laugh at the king's reaction. It was strange to see the king upset over the simple fact that they couldn't have sex right now. Truth to be told, he wanted it as badly as Marth. To compensate, Dark Pit climbed into bed. He snuggled close to Marth, feeling the king's hand hug him closer. He felt the familiar warm sensation wrap around him, protecting him. Dark Pit felt his face heating up. The strange feeling crept over him once again. This time, he didn't deny it. He couldn't resist one last gesture to the king. He leaned up and kissed Marth lightly on the cheek. The king looked at him in surprise, but the Faire avoided his gaze. Marth's surprise was replaced with a warm smile. He kissed back Dark Pit's forehead before tightening his embrace. The Faire didn't resist, and they soon fell asleep together.