Runaway / MaStar Week 2020 / mastar-week

Inspiration:

"It was a very bad idea. It was a terrible idea. It was the worst idea he had ever heard. It was irresistible."

― Cassandra Clare, The Runaway Queen

It was a very bad idea. It was a terrible idea. It was the worst idea she had ever heard. It was irresistible.

So she whips back around into her room like a whirlwind, leaving him half in and half out of her bedroom window. It doesn't take long to find all that she feels she needs: the jewelry from her fiance's family and from her papa, her favorite three novels, a pair of riding pants, a few shirts, ribbons to tie her hair back- or maybe she should cut it-

"Maka!" he hisses. "If we're doing this, we need to go now!"

"I know!" she hisses back, stilling when a noise creaks from the hall beyond her closed door. They wait with baited breath for another minute of silence. Then she moves again, shoving a bag at him while tugging another pair of pants under her nightdress and slamming her feet into her boots. Her cloak is haphazardly draped around her shoulders, hair still a mess from the sleep that he'd interrupted.

But Black Star is there, hand held out to her, an open and encouraging expression on his face. "Ready?"

She grins and he returns it as he helps her out the window.

They race hand in hand across the grounds in the dark of night. The moon is but a hangnail in the sky and Maka only spares half a glance back at her childhood home, no indications of a single oil lamp being turned on since their departure. Black Star leads her through the thickets that surround the estate, tugging her traveling hood over her head and tucking her into his side to protect her from the brambles.

Ahead is the gate, old and out of use, that they'd used many times in their youth to escape her lessons and his cleaning duties. Beyond it, is the garden they used to tend in secret and Maka's horse. How he'd gotten the palfrey out of the stables without notice is a mystery. He stirs when they round past a large bush of roses and snorts until Black Star runs a hand over the horse's neck soothingly. The bridle and saddle are already in place and he wastes no time in lashing her pack to his, on top of the thick roll of blankets hitched together.

When he turns to her, his expression is more serious than she's ever seen him.

"Are you certain?" he asks, his hand making an aborted move towards her. He is outside his bounds, as their head attendant would scold him. He should not speak casually to her, as her father often lectured. But they are not there to say so and she would never have him stay his words or withhold his thoughts and feelings. Not with her.

She reaches out, but the moonlight catches on the small glinting ring on her finger. Frustrated that his eye is drawn to it, she rips it off and holds it up appraisingly. "How much do you think this is worth?"

Black Star's smile is blinding even in the dark of night, pressing his fingers into her ring-free hand's palm firmly. Maka can do nothing but return it, tucking the offensive jewelry into the small sewn-in pocket inside her cloak.

"It doesn't matter what it's worth," he says, quiet but passionate, honest. "You're worth more."

She doesn't have time to respond as he shifts to help her up onto the horse. He scrambles up in front of her, taking the reins. Out of habit and because she wants to, Maka wraps her arms tightly around his middle. She leans up and presses a quick kiss somewhere on his cheek. His body tightens for a second in surprise, but relaxes when her breath crosses the shell of his ear.

"So are you."

He spurs their horse through the cover of night, the sliver of moon guiding them through the winding garden that had been theirs alone. They leave their home behind, her papa, the stablemaster, the head cook, all of them. Her fiance is sure to demand answers, but Maka doesn't feel he is owed any for a political marriage. She could not submit any longer.

So they run away, letting the irresistible pull of passion, understanding and comfort lead them to a new life. It would be difficult, it is a terrible, horrible idea, possibly the worst they've ever had. But it would be worth it and so much more.