**This Story Contains Tcest**
Pairings: Raphael/Donatello, Leonardo/Michelangelo, Raphael/Michelangelo, Michelangelo/Donatello, Leonardo/Donatello
Info: Alternate Universe, Royalty, Elemental Magic, Action/Adventure, Romance
~*~.~*~
Chapter Twelve: Rabbit Holes Run Deep
~*~.~*~
Long hours passed before they reached the safety of the second camp.
Donatello drifted in a place somewhere between awake and asleep, hazily wondering if they were ever going to stop walking. Time blurred into a never-ending fever dream, and if it wasn't for the constant of Raphael's solid form at his side, he might have simply laid down in the dirt, welcoming oblivion with open arms.
Leonardo let them stop only once, at a small freshwater spring they used to clean the salty lake water from their skin. There had been a pillowy patch of moss close to the water that looked so beautifully inviting, but after only a few minutes Leo had them trudging onward again and Don tried not to cry from the injustice of it.
Now a rough wooden log, hard and unyielding beneath him, was the only thing keeping him from sinking deep into the ground, convinced that the heat from the blazing fire was going to melt his skin and bones into a puddle of formless goo.
Sounds of the forest preparing for the coming night filled the air around them. The rumbling croaks of bullfrogs and the soprano notes of crickets dueled with the deep hooting call of a great horned owl just beginning to wake from its daytime slumber; and high up in the trees, their stick-like bodies almost invisible among the dark, black branches, a group of Aldafay twittered and chirped as they danced.
The sun was only just touching the horizon. It streaked the sky with red and gold and darkened the clouds with dusky shadows. A quietly burbling stream, skinny enough to step across without getting their feet wet, reflected that fading light down one end of the campsite; and just beyond that, beyond their tents and the four obsidian pillars with their orbs of glowing light, was a wide break in the tree line. As suddenly as if some ancient giant had sliced the forest in two, the trees ended, opening onto an expanse of vast golden sand dunes that stretched out farther than they could see in the encroaching darkness.
"I don't like how deep this cut goes, Donnie. Probably gonna need more than a few stitches."
Don could only manage a tired smile as the prince of fire gently pressed around his wound. One of the serpent's tines had sliced deeply into his flesh during the battle but he honestly took no notice of the pain. It was a miracle he was even still conscious given the weight of his exhaustion.
Leonardo appeared with a bucket of water that he placed at Don's feet while Raph rummaged through some nearby crates looking for any medical supplies. Don paid him no mind, absently pulling a thin funnel of water from the bucket and using it to clean deeper inside his wound than his quick rinse at the spring had allowed.
Letting the water do the work he glanced over from under half closed eyes to watch Leo fawn and fret over Michelangelo. The prince of air draped a blanket over Mikey's shoulders, making sure he was warm enough, before brewing him a cup of tea to soothe the rawness in his throat.
For a while after leaving the lake they had all been worried that the heavily salted water might have caused permanent damage to Mikey's lungs; the hacking cough that still lingered had an unpleasant rattle to it that Don didn't like. But other than being obviously and understandably thirsty, Michelangelo seemed to otherwise be perfectly fine.
That wasn't stopping Leo from playing the nursemaid, however. He hovered, rubbing the back of Mikey's neck, refilling his cup, adjusting the blanket lying snug across his shoulders. The earth prince seemed to savor the attention, appearing to be just as exhausted as Don as he stared into the flickering flames burning between them.
Over the crackling of the fire and the trickling noise of the water, a soft chirp pulled at Don's attention. He looked up and smiled to see the Sindifay gliding towards him.
His small friend was still moving slowly, but Don was relieved to see its tiny body clear and free of the salt water from the lake. It twittered with sympathy, fluttering over to look at the cut on his arm.
"Get outta here…" Raphael mumbled with annoyance, waving at the sprite to shoo it away as he sat next to Don on the log, bandages and thread clutched in his hand.
"Wait." Don said, stilling Raph's movements with a raised hand.
The Sindifay threw a short, angry chirp at Raphael and turned back to Don, moving up close to the gash on his arm. Slowly, it lowered its body over the cut, covering the wound completely.
Donatello tried to remain perfectly still, knowing from experience that the more he moved the more uncomfortable the sensation would be, but even that couldn't stop the wave of nausea that bubbled up in his belly after a minute or two. Swallowing down the bile, he scrunched up his face in discomfort.
"Are ya' okay? You look like you're gonna be sick." Raph asked with alarm. He leaned forward like he was going to grab the sprite and rip it away, but Don quickly took hold of his hand, squeezing his fingers tightly.
"It's alright. Leave it alone. It's helping."
Raphael flashed him a dubious expression but kept his hands to himself.
All four of them watched the fay closely as it worked, until the liquid of its tiny body began to ripple, as if it was trembling from the effort.
Finally, Don reached up, offering the support of his hand. "That's enough my friend. You don't need to exhaust yourself on my account."
The fay acquiesced, its body draining away from his olive skin as it lay back. It twittered gratefully as Don quickly brought some water up from the bucket, splashing it gently.
"What…? What did it do?!"
Don turned to find Raph staring wide-eyed at his arm and looked down to see that the gash had been partially healed, not by a lot, but enough that it at least looked like it wasn't going to need stitches anymore.
"It helped." Don answered, amused by Raphael's shocked expression.
He was too tired to elaborate further, so he turned his focus back to the creature lying spent in his hand, continuously supplying it with fresh water as it regained its strength.
The truth was, despite dozens of late nights spent researching the possibilities, he didn't have an explanation for what the fay had just done. There was shockingly little information to be found about the magical creatures ~within the limitations of his library in Varuna at least~ so he didn't know if all fay had the ability to heal, or if it was just this one. It was frustrating, but he'd long ago accepted that this mysterious Sindifay had its own agenda and that he might never learn any of its secrets. So, he did his best to simply be grateful for its loyalty and companionship.
Raph frowned as he realized he wasn't going to get a more detailed answer and grabbed for a jar that he'd pulled from one of the crates. "I've been meaning to ask ya' about that thing." He grumbled spreading a medicinal salve over the partially healed cut and wrapping a bandage around it.
"You want to know why it follows me around everywhere." Don stated with a fond smile.
Raph nodded. "Never seen any of those damned things act like this one. They don't help, they just make trouble."
"It does behave strangely…" Leonardo spoke up from his seat next to Michelangelo. "The fay revel in mischief, and usually they have no interest in us unless it's for their own entertainment. Why is this one different?"
"I don't know why," Don sighed. "And, believe me, I've been asking myself that same question for years. All I know is I don't remember a time when this fay hasn't been with me. It comes and goes as it pleases, sometimes I won't see it for days or weeks at a time, but it always comes back, and it always appears when I seem to need it the most."
Don smiled at the fay as it suddenly released a loud trill, as if it wanted to speak for itself. Fully recovered it spun up over his palm and darted to the side, flying a happy circle around Don's head. It made sure to flick an extra splash of water into Raph's face as it sped past him, forcing Don to swallow down a laugh as the fire prince spluttered and wiped the wetness away.
The sprite stopped its flight to hover, softly twittering, its pips and squeaks melodic as it made a gesture toward Don's arm.
"Yes, it does feel much better. Thank you." Don said with a grateful smile. Satisfied by his answer the fay flipped backward and flew down to the bucket between his feet, ignoring them all as it playfully splashed in the water.
"You spoke to it in that manner yesterday as well. Can you understand what it's saying?" Leo asked.
Don considered the question. "I can't understand it in the same way that you and I understand each other. The fay communicate with a language that's more intent than it is phonetics. It took me a long time before I could recognize some of the different notes and interpret meaning from them. But, really, it's more about their body language, then the sounds themselves."
"Interesting. I'll admit I've never put much thought into trying to understand them. I would love to learn."
The hazel hue of Leo's eyes shined like sun-warmed bronze in the firelight and Don found himself unable to look away. The sting of the words and accusations flung at him the night before was still a little too fresh for Don to feel like he could fully let down his guard around the prince of air, but he couldn't deny that the events of the day had softened the hurt he felt and seeing how gentle Leo was being with Michelangelo gave Don a glimmer of hope that they might soon find common ground with each other.
"Thalia is pregnant."
Three sets of eyes turned toward the sound of those whispered words. Ever since the lake Michelangelo had been so uncharacteristically quiet, and now he sat perfectly still and hunched over, clutching the blanket around his shoulders tightly, staring hard into the fire as if all of life's answers would be found within those flickering flames.
"You serious, Mike?" Raph finally asked after a stunned silence.
The earth prince nodded, taking a deep breath. "She told me the night before I left to come here."
Leonardo reached out to steady him, placing a comforting hand firmly on his shoulder. "Congratulations, Michelangelo."
He looked dazed, almost lost, like the earth had started to spin a little too fast under his feet, but Leo's touch seemed to pull him back. His eyes refocused as he looked up, offering a crooked smile.
"Heh, yeah, thanks…"
"Are you happy, Mikey?" Don asked.
"Of course, I am." Michelangelo assured with a nod, shaking himself in an effort to cast off the gloom in his mood. "It's just… everything's gotten so real all of a sudden, you know? We're here now, the first trial is already done, and when all this is over, we're gonna be…" He stopped and swallowed, blinking furiously for a second. "It feels like real life just came up and smacked me across the face is all… everything is about to change."
Leo pulled him into a tight hug, taking a moment to kiss the top of his head. "Maybe it's true that nothing will be the same after this, and yes, there are challenges still to come we may or may not be ready for; but we'll always have each other, Michelangelo. No matter what, that will never change.
Snuggling deeper into Leo's embrace, the earth prince smiled and seemed to relax. Donatello understood the uncertainty in Mikey's voice, the same concerns and fears had been plaguing his thoughts for so long he couldn't remember a time when they had not. Change was inevitable, but that didn't mean it was going to be easy.
"Well, ya' know what this means, right?"
They all looked at Raphael, his face half hidden by deep shadows in the darkness. He smirked, "Mikey was the first of us to get married, now he'll be the first to have a kid… that means the three of us have got some serious catchin' up to do."
The truth in those words seemed to smack them all across the face, and both Don and Leo twitched a little as the reality of it set in. Only it wasn't as heavy as it should have been. Instead, the tension in the air melted away and they all started laughing, pushing back on the weight of their looming futures, leaving it to be decided on another day.
"Don't let my high priest hear you say that." Don finally managed, wiping at the tears of laughter in his eyes. "He's been stalking after me for months trying to force me to choose a bride."
"Sounds familiar." Raph chuckled in response. "I've got a couple of nice girls hangin' around that I'm sure would do the job well enough, and my father wants me to just pick one, but I don't know… somethin' about it just doesn't feel right to me. Not yet anyway."
Maybe it wasn't nice or proper to joke about their future queens in that way, but that was just how marriage was handled within the royal families. When it came to the heirs of the four elements, they were rarely free to marry for love. Sometimes it worked out that way, but more often than not unions were formed from necessity, respect and an understanding of expectations.
Michelangelo at least seemed to have found some luck in his choice, and from the short time Don had spent in Sucellus listening to the way the people there spoke about their young prince and princess, it was abundantly clear that Mikey loved his wife as fiercely as he loved everything in his life.
"What about your lady, Leo?" Raph asked with what Don could instantly see was a teasing smirk. "What was her name? Kali? Kira?…"
"Karai." Leo answered, his gaze shooting daggers in Raph's direction. The lightness of their shared laughter quickly faded away in the wake of that single word.
Raphael snorted as Don looked back and forth between them, confusion plain on his face. Mikey had gone very still as he watched Leo's expression closely.
Finally, Leo sighed, acknowledging Don's quizzical look. "My father… chose my queen for me… on the day of her birth. Our marriage ceremony is to be held the day after our coronations."
Oh. Don's eye ridges rose with interest. Arranged marriages had fallen out of favor within the nobility of the empire long ago, but they weren't completely unheard of. Occasionally one would still pop up, usually with a lower noble family looking to improve their ranking. But it didn't surprise Don one bit that the emperor had made this choice for Leo. Apelles wanted full control over everything and everyone around him, especially his son, of course he would have his hand in choosing the next queen of Aeolus.
The revelation had Don looking down at his feet with not a small amount of guilt. His long-suffering battle with his high priest over his own lack of commitment on the subject suddenly seemed like a blessing in disguise. Adva might be annoyingly persistent, but at least he was still allowing Don the freedom to choose his bride.
Thinking about it, he realized, with dread, that the high priest could have ignored his wishes entirely. As the highest-ranking adult in charge of Don's care after everything began to fall apart, he could have easily used his position to further his own power by placing anyone he wanted into the role of queen, and the reality was, there were few who would have dared challenge him. But Adva hadn't done that, and still Don rebelled against his authority at every turn.
Obviously, he owed his high priest a sincere apology and resolved to do so, and make his choice, the moment the trials were complete.
"How's that even gonna work for ya'?" Raph pressed further with a heavily mocking tone. "I mean… you're a turtle… she's a human… Can you two even…?"
Leo tensed, his lip pulling back like he was about to tell Raphael exactly where he could shove his questions, but whatever confrontation might have come next was stopped when a soft trill came from behind them, the sound like an apology for the interruption.
Don hadn't noticed when his small friend had disappeared from the bucket at his feet, but now the sprite was gliding back towards the fire from the stream at the edge of their clearing, an orb of water almost larger than itself perched within the circle of its stubby arms.
Don's eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. The fay wobbled a little under the weight of the orb, releasing a grunt like chirp in its struggle to hold the water in place and immediately Don was on his feet, stepping forward to take the offering from his tiny friend. The creature shook itself, cooing its thanks, coming to a stop right in front of Don's face so it could stare deeply into his eyes.
"What will I see…?" Don whispered, suddenly afraid though he didn't quite understand why.
A gentle twitter was the Sindifay's only response. It tilted its head forward, nodding at the sphere held delicately above Don's fingers, and chirped once more before spinning and darting away, disappearing into the dark water of the creek before Don could even blink.
The sphere rippled in his palm, but he was frozen in place, staring down at it, suddenly at a loss for what he was supposed to do. He knew his friend would never try to deceive or trick him, so it wasn't a fear of seeing something terrible in the water that was holding him back. In fact, somehow, he was sure he was about to receive answers to questions that had plagued him for years. But even with that strange certainty flooding his senses there was still a small amount of doubt and it rooted him in place, unable to move, unable to hear through the rushing sound of a thousand rivers pulsing in his ears.
Then there was warmth at his side and a heavy hand on his shoulder. Glancing over he found Raphael watching him with an intensity that pierced straight through his hesitation. The prince of fire gave him a crooked smile as he looked down at the orb and back up again and Don breathed out, releasing the tension in his muscles. He didn't need words to know what was being said in Raph's golden eyes. Don absorbed the strength and assurance and love that Raphael exuded like an elixir and used it to bolster his courage for what he was about to do.
With a deep breath he turned back to face the fire. Michelangelo had shrugged off his blanket and moved close, slipping up to Don's side to hook an arm around his elbow and rest his chin on his shoulder. Leonardo was there as well, placing a steadying hand on his shell.
Their connected magic pulsed through them once more, just as strong as it had been earlier that morning in the clearing of the first camp, but this time they weren't surprised by the feeling, they embraced it and allowed the power rushing through their veins to draw them closer together.
When they were all pressed together comfortably, Donatello raised his arms and formed the window and for the first time he didn't even need to move before the water started to ripple.
He held the panel steady, fascinated by the clarity of the image that began to form. He was a conduit for their joined magic and like a painting with no color, the detail in the lines and textures of the water was unlike anything he had ever before been able to conjure on his own.
The echo revealed a watery version of their campsite, the logs surrounding the fire almost identical to what lay beyond the window. It was serene in appearance, but the absence of sound was the first thing to command Don's attention. He would have thought the scene completely silent if it weren't for the gurgling of the creek echoing in sync with the sound of the real one at his back.
With another ripple across the window, figures began to form in the water.
~*~.~*~
Archus was in the center, sitting astride one of the logs, leaning back against Theonis's chest with his eyes closed. The earth prince was resting with his cheek against the top of Archus's head, his strong arms wrapped securely around the body between his legs. On the ground was Kaimon with his arm wound around Archus's leg in a possessive, protective way. He was staring unflinchingly into the fire from where his head lay on Archus's thigh. They were so still and quiet, like this was just a portrait of a memory, but then Kaimon moved his hand up to Archus's knee and the water prince reached down to thread their fingers together without opening his eyes.
The intimacy, the desire, the love between them was like a heavy heartbeat, pulsing across time. Through the water of the echo, it was easy to believe that in that moment only those three existed in the entire world.
Except there weren't only three. There were four.
Apelles sat on the same log, close enough to be within reach but far enough away to make it seem like he had chosen that spot intentionally. He was hunched over, his forearms resting on his thighs, his head drooping down so low it was almost between his knees. He looked so small and alone sitting there, with them but apart from them, nothing at all like the tall, confident, force of an emperor that Donatello had seen on that market street in Aeolus only a few weeks earlier.
His face was hidden in shadow, his body tense, shoulders shaking even as he tried to contain the tremors. His hands were curled into fists so tight his fingernails must have been drawing blood. It seemed as if the log on which he sat was the only thing keeping him from collapsing to the ground under the weight of his anguish, and Don was certain that if Apelles were to look up there would be tears streaming from his eyes.
Michelangelo tightened his grip on Don's arm, a quiet whimper escaping his throat. Raphael grunted uneasily. The scene was sad and uncomfortable, and it made Don want to throw the window away in disgust. He'd never pulled an echo like this, never seen one so silent and still. Their fathers were like statues and only the rise and fall of their chests as they breathed gave away the life within them.
Not one of the other three moved to comfort Apelles. Maybe they were curled into each other too closely to notice his distress or maybe there was something deeper and far more unpleasant going on underneath to explain the way they ignored him as he struggled beside them.
For a long, tense, unescapable moment nothing moved or spoke until Donatello wanted to scream at them for so callously spurning one of their own. His own life of exile and loneliness, his own fears of not being accepted, of not being good enough, made him grimace from the pain of it. He didn't know what to think, what to feel, except for a small, strange clarity of thought that maybe it now made sense why the emperor was the way that he was.
Don's arms twitched, threatening to drop the window and be done with it. He wasn't ready to face the possibility that his own quiet, gentle father could have behaved like this toward someone he was supposed to love. It was simply too much after an already emotionally trying day.
Only, before he could move the scene changed. The tension surrounding the four in the window seemed to dissolve, like ice melting under a warm sun. Archus shifted and slowly opened his eyes, looking down the length of his body at where Apelles sat. Lifting his head just a little, he raised his free hand and reached for the prince of air, curling his fingers around his arm.
Apelles jerked to the side, startled by Archus's touch. His head shot up, staring wide-eyed at the other three like he had completely forgotten they were even there. Archus tightened his grip and pulled gently, his lips moving with a whisper too quiet to carry out of the echo, but whatever he said must have been enough. After only a second Apelles deflated, his face crumpling, and the emotion he was trying so hard to contain finally burst free.
His sob echoed through the campsite and Archus pulled harder, joined quickly by Theonis and Kaimon. Now they were all reaching for Apelles, drawing him in, whispering things that couldn't be heard over the gurgling murmur of the creek. Apelles let them guide him down, curling into a ball between Archus's legs, his face pressing against the water prince's plastron as his body shook with silent tears.
And just like that they were still again. Kaimon gripped Apelles's hand tightly over Archus's knee. Theonis rubbed his shoulder and shell until he was soothed and calmed. And Archus simply held him close, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of his head until Apelles relaxed and dozed off.
~*~.~*~
The water in the window rippled again and the scene began to fade. When it was gone Don lowered his arms but was otherwise too stunned to move.
Was that really what the Sindifay had wanted them to see? What did they serve to gain from witnessing such a powerfully emotional moment? And what could have happened to their fathers to cause that reaction? He supposed it was possible they had also just been through the first trial and maybe it hadn't gone well. That might explain their behavior, but which of the trials had it been? They weren't always given in the same order.
The only thing that was clear was that nothing could have prepared them for what they had just seen. The atmosphere in the camp had taken on a dreamlike quality that left Donatello numb, like he was floating through a fog on a vast, empty lake.
"…fuck…"
Raphael's voice was hardly louder than a whisper in his ear, the exclamation heavy with shock and disbelief, and Don finally released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Um… I think… I think we'll just… see you guys in the morning." Mikey said quietly, placing a hand on Leo's arm.
The prince of air was standing rigid, unmoving, his lips a thin line slashed across his face, staring without seeing at the place where their fathers had been only moments before. He didn't speak, didn't blink, and surprisingly didn't resist as Mikey gently pushed him toward the tent with the earth kingdom's sigil embroidered on the flap.
Don watched them go, bewildered by the sharp turn the evening had taken.
"Is he alright?" He asked when the two were gone from sight.
Raph shifted uncomfortably on his feet and shrugged. "Leo isn't really the type to… show what he's feeling out where people can see it. Mikey's usually the only one that can get him to talk."
The prince of fire plodded away, sitting down heavily on the log farthest from the one their father's had been sitting on in the echo, and Don could only follow, not really sure what else to say.
They sat like that for a long while, not talking, staring deeply into the flames.
He supposed he understood Leo's reaction. To see the man that is your father in that kind of highly emotional state was jarring enough on its own, but when your father is a cutthroat, cruel and cold emperor that seems to only hold contempt for everyone and everything around him… well, Don could venture a guess at what that was like.
He knew his own situation wasn't quite the same, but also, he knew how he felt whenever his own father would show any sign of lucidity beyond his usual murmurings. Seeing Archus in the echoes, healthy and whole and not trapped within his own mind was turning out to be far more disconcerting than Don had expected it to be and already he was finding it difficult to reconcile those two versions of his father as being the same person.
Up until this point his life had been so structured, every minute of every day plotted and planned. He always knew what was coming next, what to expect. But the last two days had been nothing but chaos, everything around him was spinning so far out of his control it was making him dizzy. Was he strong enough to handle what was yet to be thrown at him? Or was he simply too naïve about the ways of the wider world to truly understand what was happening? Right now, he felt like it had to be the latter.
His father had been strong enough, once. Only two echoes in, and of that one thing Donatello was certain. Through the water he had seen that in his youth Archus had exuded a level of confidence Don could only hope to emulate. Staring hard at the empty log across from him, he wondered what his life would be like now if that able bodied young man had been the one to raise him. He wondered who he would be if he hadn't been robbed of the father and the family he was supposed to have had.
The very same family that appeared to have loved his father, all those years ago. Those fading images from the water swam before his eyes. They had been holding him so close, like he was something precious and valued, something they couldn't bear to be without.
But Donatello knew that to be a lie.
If they had loved him that much, then why did they just…
Raphael's hand came to rest on his knee and Don started, looking up at the prince of fire and feeling for the first time the wetness on his cheeks from tears he hadn't realized were falling.
"Ya' okay?"
The caring concern in that softly asked question was almost too much. Don tried to respond, but the confusion and sorrow surging within him filled his lungs and his throat until he thought he would choke on them.
"No." Don gasped, standing with a shudder, pacing away from Raph as shadows cast by the flames danced and flickered, teasing ghostly images of the things that once were. "I don't understand."
Raphael remained where he was, giving Donatello space, waiting as a waterfall of words began to tumble from his lips.
"They looked like they… like my father was important to them, like he mattered. But that can't be true!" Don spat, and just like that a sharp anger took hold. "Twenty-five years! He disappeared from their lives, and they never once came looking for him! They weren't there… they never tried! They let him go without a fight, without any shred of caring or concern for him, or me, or my family! … They abandoned him, when he needed them most… If they loved him so much, why did they cast him aside like he had never been there at all?"
Those final words came as a defeated whisper, his shoulders sagging. Closing his eyes against the silence that fell between them, Don focused on the crackling sound of the fire muting the noises of the nighttime forest surrounding them.
"They did try, Donnie."
His voice was so quiet Don almost didn't hear him, the words slowly solidifying in his mind until he could only shake his head with confusion.
"My father doesn't talk about whatever happened between them." Raph continued. "I ask sometimes, when I think he might be in a good mood, but mostly he just glares at me until I give up and change the subject. But… there was this one night, a few years back… He'd been drinking, we both had, and we were just starin' up at the stars. That time, when I asked, he didn't glare or walk away. He just got real quiet, and he told me something that I think ya' need to hear."
With trepidation Don sank down onto the nearest log, instinct telling him he was going to want to be sitting down for this.
Raph licked his lips before speaking again. "I don't remember why the talk turned serious, but at one point I asked him why we couldn't just go to Varuna and demand to be let in. I asked him why we were being forced to live without ya' when we were the ones that made the rules. He took so long to answer I thought maybe he'd passed out, and when he did finally speak, his voice was almost too rough to hear. … For two years after the end of their trials they camped just outside Varuna's border, both fire and earth. They spent months begging the border guard to let them pass, tried to send emissaries, priests, nobles both high and low… anyone they thought would have even the smallest chance of getting through. But they were blocked every time. … He sounded so tired when he told me that…"
With urgency Raphael stood and crossed the few steps between them, sinking to his knees, taking Don's hands in his and gripping them so tightly they went numb. He leaned in until all Don could see was the fierce amber glow of his eyes.
"There was pain in his voice like I'd never heard before when he told me that they had never given up on him, they just finally accepted that they couldn't force Archus to see them if that wasn't what he wanted. Something broke inside my father the day they had to walk away from that border crossing, Don."
A shadow passed over Raphael's face as he recalled the memory and the longer he spoke, the more forceful his voice became, until he was practically shaking Donatello, his desperation palpable as he tried to convey the truth in his words.
"My father, Mikey's father, they had the full might of Agni and Sucellus at their backs, and they tried everything they could think of to get your men to let them in, but in the end the only choices they had left were to start a war by forcing their way through, or to turn around and go home. He said they left hoping that Archus would come to them, when he was ready."
By this point the tears were flowing freely down Don's face. There was no doubt in his mind Raphael was speaking the truth. He didn't understand it, it contradicted everything he had ever been led to believe, but he did believe it… completely.
A weight he hadn't even realized he was carrying lifted from somewhere deep within him until only the why's and the how's were left tumbling around inside his head.
They had fought for Archus, pushed as far as the limits of their society would allow, and in the end had chosen to abide by his wishes, believing that the strength of their connection to each other would bring Archus back to them one day.
They couldn't have known that they had already lost him forever, that each passing year pulled Archus further and further away from them as he retreated into the depths of his own mind.
Leaving his only son behind to pick up the pieces.
Yet, Donatello had never been told… not by anyone. His priests, his nobles, his mother, his grandfather… so many years and not one single person had thought he needed to know about what Kaimon and Theonis had done in those days following the tragedy of their trials.
Anger flared within him again and he steeled his heart against their betrayal, their lack of trust. When this was over, he was going to find out why so many had made the unilateral decision to keep him in the dark.
It wasn't the logistics of the situation that Don was questioning, he understood the chain of command. From the moment their fathers' trials were complete, Archus was the crowned king, with or without the coronation ceremony, and his word was law. Donatello's grandfather would no longer have had the power to order the borders reopened. Varuna soldiers answered only to the king and to this very day the army still believed they were taking their orders directly from Archus, as distant and unavailable as he was.
The highest-ranking priests and nobles in Varuna may have placed a crown on Donatello's head during that humid summer ten years earlier, but it was a symbolic gesture at best, a tenuous thread meant only to hold the broken pieces of the kingdom together long enough for Don to come of age.
"They never told me… I didn't know…" Don hiccupped, swallowing back a sob.
Every single adult in his life had let him believe that the world had abandoned Varuna, like his kingdom was so much trash, easily tossed to the side. He'd grown up thinking that there was something wrong with him, with his family, because why else would they stay away? Why would Archus have kept them away? And where was Apelles in all this? Why hadn't he been there trying to get through the border with the others?
Questions that led to answers that led to more questions. Would it never end?!
Donatello's vision was starting to go fuzzy at the edges, darkness creeping slowly upon him as he cried and leaned forward to rest his forehead against Raph's shoulder. Too much had been thrown at him in too short a time. He couldn't hold on anymore, his thoughts were evaporating into mist.
The prince of fire held him so tightly and for so long that Don started to forget where he was. He felt safe and secure, and surely that was all he needed. Sleep started to pull at him, a smile tugging at his lips feeling the gentle rumble of Raph's laugh reverberating through him, soothing as he fell.
"Let's get ya' to bed." The fire prince mumbled, pulling Don to his feet.
Donatello was barely conscious enough to notice as Raph guided him into the tent with the fire kingdom's sigil blazing red on the flap. His boots and tunic disappeared as he collapsed onto the fur covered mat, falling down, down, down, content and warm in Raphael's arms.
~*~.~*~ tmnt ~*~.~*~
