A/N: I'm still alive, I promise! I've just been busy...with procrastinating. Yeah. Also Fire Emblem Awakening. _
You tilted the vial back and forth in your hands, heart beating furiously. You stared wordlessly at your fingers. Were these the hands of a murderer? Could you live with yourself after knowing that you had purposefully ended the life of another man? Your slippery palms were having trouble holding on to the bottle, and so you clenched it tightly within a fist.
Your master was happy. It may be a blinded, unsacred sort of happiness, but you knew that had Lyon not come, your master would have continued to sit by your late lady's bedside until he wasted away. You wondered if he would ever be able to live without her, or at least, without the parody of her that Lyon had created. Your true lady was long gone, hopefully to heaven, and oblivious of the monstrosities that her husband had done in her name. Your fingers hovered above the vial, trembling. Did you have the conviction?
Unscrewing the cap. Entire body shaking. Heart pounding so loudly that surely, surely, your master would hear it and wake up. Bringing the vial close to your master's lips…
You brought your hand back down, taking shaky breaths. Your forehead was saturated with cold sweat, and the liquid remained within the bottle, victimless.
Lyon had been right. You could never betray your oath and murder your master in his sleep. Your mind turned quickly, frantically seizing whatever other idea you could come up with. Killing your master was something you could not do. But killing the monster that Lyon had created…that was a completely different story. Putting an end to the horrifying mimicry of life that the creature possessed would be a mercy in itself.
You crept forward, taking care not to wake it. Then, once you were near the monster's wantonly gaping maw, you unscrewed the cap to the vial and dumped all of its contents down the creature's throat.
You had almost made it out of the room when the creature spluttered – once, twice, three times. You knew you had to hurry. Perhaps the poison would send it into convulsions, which would surely wake your master. You shut the door and scurried out quickly, through empty hallways and moonlit corridors, and back into your room, a solitary bastion of life in a castle filled with the stench of death.
The next morning found you well rested and healthy. Now that she was dead once more, perhaps your lord would awaken from his delusions, you hoped. As you headed off to your master's room, daylight was streaming out of the windows and throughout the castle, and you took it as a good omen.
Stopping at the door, you took a deep breath and knocked. "My lord? How are you faring?"
"Fine, thank you. Please leave us alone, Janx."
Did he believe that it was another illness, wrapped up in his denials as usual? Or was he quietly mourning his wife, having finally accepted her death? Or was the creature still alive and breathing, the poison having been ineffective?
You had to know. You stretched out your hand, fingers slowly closing around the door handle…
Lyon strode past you, decisively and briskly, forcing the door open with both of his hands. His cloak billowed behind him as he shouldered you to the side. "Orson."
You heard a scuffling sound as your master roughly pushed back his chair in the process of standing up. "What do you want, Lyon!? I've fulfilled my part of the bargain. Now leave us alone."
"I'm not here for anything." Lyon spoke briskly. "I just wanted to let you know that Ephraim is approaching the castle, not more than an hour away."
"Damnit!" You peered into the room, curious. A wrapped yellow gift sat on the table by your late lady's bedside, and your master was shouting angrily at Lyon. "Why is he coming? Why today? It's Monica's birthday, doesn't he know that!? How inconsiderate of him."
"You betrayed him, after all," Lyon reminded him in an abrupt tone. "Either way, I have neither the time nor patience to deal with him. He's your problem. I'm just the messenger."
And with that, Lyon vanished before your eyes in a purple haze of smoke, leaving you with your distraught master.
He was shaking. You watched as you saw his fingers clench and unclench as he tried to control his emotions. He strode abruptly towards the door, then halted and headed back towards the creature, stretched out a hand and reached for her, pleadingly, desperately. A pale arm lifted mechanically, and its cold, lifeless fingers intertwined with his. The deep lines ingrained between his eyes softened, and his breathing became less erratic. He kissed its forehead gently, then turned to you.
"Janx. I want you to watch Monica. Protect her, regardless of what becomes of me. If it seems that I should fall, take her away to somewhere safe and leave me behind. This is my last order to you." His tone was brief and succinct, but you saw his underlying plea within his eyes. Your master had no control over whether or not you obeyed him, and he would never know.
"Yes, my lord." You bowed your head in subservience.
The corners of his mouth relaxed, ever so slightly. "You have always been the only one I could ever trust, save for her. Thank you, Janx." He made a small movement, as though he was leaving, then stopped and laid a hand on your shoulder.
"Goodbye."
You kept your head bowed, not meeting his gaze.
"Farewell, my lord."
You heard a scraping of silver and you watched your master's heeled boots strode past you, out, out to where the rightful rulers of the continent had finally come to reclaim their kingdom. Out to where your master would most likely meet his death.