Battle of Wills
"I already know you are there," Lukas says quiet, but firmly. "There is no use in hiding." He turns around slowly, staring directly at Matthias' hiding spot behind a corner, his face a perfectly blank mask, waiting expectantly.
Matthias remains frozen for a few seconds, shuddering at the flat, empty tone of Lukas' voice, the one that belongs to the king's commander, and it scares him half to death. If the king caught him collaborating with the rebels after the incident with the dream tea, he is sure to have put orders on Lukas to put an end to it. He realizes this meeting might be a trap, and that he left his friends behind with no notice.
He weighs his options for a moment longer. Lukas did send the guards through the door, but for all Matthias knows they could be waiting for a command to strike just on the other side of it. He considers running and pretending this never happened, but Lukas already knows he is here, and he can catch Matthias with little effort if that is what he wants. With that thought in mind, he figures he can cause little more damage by keeping a conversation out in the open.
He carefully steps out from his shelter and into the gentle glow of the streetlights so they can both see each other face to face and on equal footing. Well as equal as they can get considering the location and Lukas' nature.
He can see Lukas clearer now and Matthias does not like what he is seeing. Lukas' posture is stiff and his breathing shallow and face perfectly blank, much like the first few times they talked, before his shell started cracking to reveal the vulnerable creature beneath. He is wearing the proper uniform again, the tunic dyed in the green colors of the kingdom and the leather armor embellished with the great oak tree of the king's coat of arms. He carries twin short sword on his belt, one on each side and he looks dangerous.
"So how did you manage to arrange for this meeting?" Matthias asks carefully, still keeping a good distance so he has some room to attempt an escape should it be necessary.
Lukas arches one eyebrow and looks slightly thoughtful. "I did not," he replies equally as careful. "I sensed your presence in the marketplace, and you followed us all the way here, but the only thing I did to ensure a conversation was send the guard on their way." His gaze turn calculating, and Matthias feels strangely naked being under its focus. "What makes you believe I arranged for this?"
Matthias balks at that statement. "You must have called for me, I felt some weird magical pull that drew me here," he hisses slightly louder than he intended and winces at the volume of his own voice in the otherwise silent night. "Why else would I wake up in the middle of the night and just wander into the market at the exact time you happen to be around?" The same pull is still present, but not as strong as earlier and more of a soft weigh in his chest that reminds him he was not imagining it.
Lukas looks nervous then and even a bit confused, it did not take long for his mask of cold indifference to crack. "That should not be possible," he says quietly, and he sounds so vulnerable then it is unnerving. "I must have called out for you unconsciously, but I have not done anything magical without intention for decades. I sensed you from the wall the other day; I knew you were in the city. I hoped you would seek me out, but that is all it was supposed to be. Hope, nothing more." He takes a deep, slow breath. "No matter how many times I tell you it would be wise to keep a distance, you never seem to heed my advice."
Matthias barks out a laugh. "As if you are any better, considering you are the one that seeks me out most of the time," he says, aiming for a light tone, but it seems strained even to his own ears. They stand there in silence; Matthias takes the opportunity to look his fill, and besides the visible apprehension, Lukas looks unharmed. However, he cannot exactly see if there is any more magic placed on him since last time. "Are you alright, after what happened the last time that we met?" he asks eventually, fingers twitching by his side, wanting to reach out and check for himself.
Lukas lets out a bitter laugh. "As well as can be expected I suppose."
"I got you in trouble then," Matthias mentally curses himself as guilt churns his stomach, the instinct to touch only grows stronger. "I'm really sorry. When I drank that tea, I didn't know the king can track your dreams."
Lukas dismisses him with a wave of his hand. "I knew the potential consequences, and I could have gotten out of that dream at any time if I really wanted to." He says it with a grim little smile. "I am the one that chose to stay despite the risks."
"I'm still sorry, and I have to ask," Matthias hesitates. "Does the king know who you were talking to? Did you tell him anything?"
A dark expression makes its way to Lukas' face then and he closes his eyes as if fighting off a bad memory. One of his hands begins trembling, looks as if he is fighting a battle against himself. His mouth seems to form words, but no sounds leave him until he snarls out a vicious, "no!" He grinds his teeth, shudders and then just stands there breathing heavily, the tremble in his hand only seems to grow worse. "No, he does not. I did not."
Matthias is uncertain of how to react to the battle of wills that Lukas seems to be fighting against himself, he figures it be wise to turn the subject in a different direction and diffuse the situation. "I believe you," he says carefully, but Lukas' glare is withering, and he hisses much like a wild animal in response and apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. Matthias barely resist the instinct to turn and flee. If Lukas loses the battle against all his orders, Matthias is as good as dead.
Lukas begins pacing, or maybe prowling is the right description considering the quiet growls that escape him. Matthias catches sight of a few glowing lines creeping up Lukas' neck, out from the shelter of his cloak. "If the king knew of you, he would have given me the order to hunt you down and kill on sight and there is little I am able to do to fight an order like that." The words are sharp and Lukas' eyes glint dangerously. "Luckily he didn't think I was conspiring with his enemies, but he is angry and watching my every move, like a hawk, it is a wonder those guards agreed to leave."
"It is safe for us to meet like this then?" Matthias asks, anxious to know the answer as it is something he has wondered since Lukas first spoke up.
"Nothing is safe anymore," Lukas laughs harshly. "But if either of us is going to have a chance at achieving what we want, we cannot afford safety, time is running out. Now while I have the chance, I should tell you," He breathes again as if gathering strength to force out the words. "The king is working on a weapon."
"A weapon?" Matthias asks hesitantly. "Is his armies and magic not enough, he needs even more?"
"He wants to turn the times of war; to reduce the number of men needed to bring an entire kingdom to its knees. He is working on something that is stronger than any siege weapon and more destructive. It needs to be destroyed and I cannot do that." Lukas spits out each word like they are poisonous, pausing in strange places to regain his breath. "It is a powder that if ignited will tear down a house in a second. He has not gotten far enough to test it in battle yet, but his supplies are growing and even if untested might prove to be the deciding factor in this rebellion."
"Any more details you can spare? I know you have trouble spilling secrets directly, but that is vague even for you." The drawn-out tension of not knowing exactly what he can expect from Lukas is fraying Matthias' nerves to a point where his words sound harsher than intended. "Like where this weapon is stored, how to get there, stuff like that you know."
Lukas growls wordlessly and the marks on his neck glow brighter. There is even a faint glow now visible through the fabric on the sleeves of his tunic.
"Sorry," Matthias mutters truly remorsefully after realizing just how much Lukas is struggling.
They become silent once more.
"You said you hoped for a chance to see me," Matthias says as lightly as he can manage, trying to ease the steadily building tension and switching the subject to hopefully safer grounds.
"Of course, I should have known you would latch on to that part of our conversation," Lukas mutters, but he seems much calmer now like the urge to maim and kill has lessened. "We are only a few weeks away from a full siege of the city and that is what you want to discuss."
Matthias shrugs apologetically, but deep within he is not feeling true remorse.
"I might have had selfish reasons for seeking you out," Lukas says carefully, testing the waters. "But it is wiser to keep focus on what is important; we don't have the time to be selfish."
The pull in Matthias' chest that drew him to seek out Lukas to begin with, burns underneath his skin at the acknowledgement that there is something between them, something more. It claws at him, urges him to move forward and he fights to resist. There is still a dangerous tension, Lukas not yet in full control of himself and he knows that he should stay away no matter how much the thing in his chest hungers and yearns for more.
"Maybe I find you much more important," he quips. "I'm growing tired of all this doom and gloom."
Lukas huffs out a breath that can almost be a laugh and then he sighs. "I saw you that day on the wall," Lukas forces out, but his tone more controlled now even if the growing thing between them is not something he wants to discuss. The anguish on his face is diminishing and the tension of his body lessens. "I know who you were with."
Matthias shudders at the memory of his day with the Rat king and Lukas takes notice. "I would warn you, but it seems you already know. You choose dangerous company."
Matthias huffs. "Well, I had little choice. As far as I know, there is no way into the city without his help and more difficult still getting to the inner districts. He offered a way that did not include fighting or trying to sneak in by hiding in a cart of hay, which would not work. If it were easy getting in, that mud-town would be empty. And we are no guards; we can't follow the same paths they take."
Lukas' hand begins shake strongly again, and he fishes something out of his pocket. It turns out to be a key, similar to the one used by the guards to open the doors. Lukas looks him dead in the eye and holds up his palm with the key in offering, his entire arms is shaking now, like the weight of the key is immense. "I believe this would be of help to you. It is clear you know already that the guard do not need to go through the same gates as commoners. You have been busy in the last day it seems."
Matthias eyes the key skeptically. He closes the distance between them slowly, projecting every movement as if Lukas is a frightened animal likely to bolt at the slightest wrong twitch. He carefully plucks the key from Lukas' hand. "Won't you get in trouble for this?" He asks and eyes the key. It is large, not made of iron as most keys are, bronze maybe, and he finds it strange but shoves the minor detail to the back of his mind.
Lukas smiles bitterly. "Only if you get caught and only if it gets back to the king that I am the one that gave it to you. This key fits all the doors meant for the guards all the way to the castle. They man the walls at all times of the day, so you should avoid them. Be mindful of the guard changes, these doors and the corridors are frequently used when they move back to the barracks for their rest."
Matthias slowly pockets the key. They stand there in silence, the distance between them less now, and Matthias can see the dark circles underneath Lukas' eyes. His clothing might be pristine and his posture sharp when amongst the soldiers, but he is obviously exhausted. Again, the strange pull makes itself known; Matthias feels as if there is a string between them that is growing tauter with each passing second. He looks at Lukas, wondering if it feels the same to him.
Lukas eyes him warily in return, clearly noticing something but does not move away.
The hair on Matthias' arms stands on end when he gives into the pull and raises one of his hand up towards Lukas. "Why do I feel so drawn to you?" he asks.
"I don't know," Lukas replies in a whisper. His mask cracks again, his eyes are wide and unsure, maybe even scared if Matthias were to guess. "I have felt a connection for some time, but it is becoming stronger. It feels magical in nature, as if something has bound us together in some way, I don't know what it might be, I have not heard of such a thing happening, not without spell work of some kind."
Lukas' words die out; they have both stepped closer, seemingly without taking notice of their steps.
They are so close now, standing in the soft glow of the lantern above them; Matthias can feel Lukas' breath on his face, slightly fast and shallow. His pupils are blown wide to a point where there is barely a sliver of blue visible around them. He could count individual eyelashes if he wanted to, but his gaze draws lower, towards the pink flush creeping across Lukas' cheeks and lower still towards slightly parted lips.
A part of Matthias fears this might be a dream, one that will fade once he gives in to temptation. He leans in closer, painfully slow, and terrified of breaking the fragile thing between them. His hands creep up to cradle Lukas' face and he is relieved to find soft skin under his touch and not a trick of his imagination.
Lukas gasps and looks hesitant, but still is not pulling away, gaze flickering over Matthias face and then his eyes flutter shut, and he sighs softly.
Matthias takes that as permission and leans in to fully close the distance between them and time seems to stop. Gods, how he has longed for this. The weight in his chest roars in satisfaction as their lips brush together, firm but careful. His hands move on their own, sneaking further back to brush through Lukas' hair and twirl a few strands between his fingers.
Then, out of nowhere, the moment shatters.
Lukas snaps to attention, tearing away from him.
Then he shoves Matthias forcefully out of the glow from the streetlights and right against the wall with a little too much force and holds him there with one arm across his chest. The fragile look is gone, and the soldier is back, cold, and deadly, in an instant he has turned into a completely different person. "Someone is here," he snarls. The lines on his neck glow brighter as he tilts his head as he tilts his head and listens intently for something in the dark.
Matthias strains his ears but hears nothing other than his own ragged breathing. He carefully attempts to push Lukas' arm off his chest, where the pressure is strong enough to make it harder to pull enough air into his lungs, but he is not budging. Lukas might look small and fragile compared to most other men, but he possesses unnatural strength and Matthias in no match against him.
Fear makes itself known then, turning his blood to ice and he shivers helplessly as he struggles harder against the hold, even trying to kick against Lukas' legs to catch his attention. "Lukas," he pleads, voice coming out in a hoarse whisper now that he is slowly running low on oxygen. "You need to let me go; I can't breathe."
However, Lukas ignores him completely, snarling viciously like a wild beast, glaring out in the darkness, searching for the danger.
Then, there is a shriek of rage and someone charges through the darkness like a shadow. Matthias has time to see the glint of metal and then Lukas flings him aside as he whirls on the attacker.
Matthias crashes into a wall, head smacking against the hard surface and flashes of pain burst behind his eyes and the worlds turns blurry and he crumbles to the ground, feeling the cold street underneath his fingers as the world spins in a dizzying blur every time he tries to pry his eyes open.
There are still white spots dancing across his vision when he pries his eyes open and his balance is all but gone as he heaves himself back up again. He needs to know what is happening; he can hear the fighting, the clang of metal and heavy breathing, and the sense of urgency overpowering his body's desire to pass out to recover. He gets up to his knees and then his stomach rebels and he heaves until he is coughing bile.
His entire body is sluggish to respond and his head constantly ringing. He knows he needs to get up, but every limb is shaking in protest. He crawls over to the wall so he can use it as a support when his legs threaten to give up again and send him toppling over.
He finally manages to get upright and blinks to clear his vision, and then his heart almost stops.
The two fighters are in the light now, and the other fighter turns out to be Vilje. She is shrieking angrily, slashing at Lukas with a short sword, little technique and all fury. Lukas is easily keeping him at bay, blocking off every strike with a lazy movement from his own blades or easily dancing out of reach to let her slice through empty air. He looks unaffected from the fight; just waiting for the right moment to attack on his own while Vilje is sweating profusely and with each strike, her movements grows slower and weaker as she tires.
Matthias wants to scream. She must think she is saving him from the guards if she only arrived after Lukas seemed to notice her presence and showed him against the wall. This is not how it is supposed to go, nobody was supposed to notice he was gone.
"Vilje," Matthias' voice breaks around her name as he clings to the wall with all his might, frozen in place. There is no way she will win this fight, and he will have to stop them somehow.
Vilje notices him. "Run, Matt!" She yells and swings wide, not even looking where she is aiming.
Lukas uses her distraction to know the blade out of her hand, not so easily distracted. Her eyes widen in fear, and she stumbles backwards until her back crashes against a wall, unarmed and with little room to escape.
Matthias expects Lukas to simply swing his sword and end it there and then, easy an efficiently, but instead he marches right towards her and tosses his swords carelessly to the sides. Vilje looks around for a direction to bolt in, but, quick as a viper, Lukas wraps one hand around her throat and pushes her up against the wall until her feet no longer touches the ground.
She tries to scream but it comes out as a gurgle and she scrabbles for the fingers at her throat, legs kicking uselessly into empty air.
Matthias rushes forward as fast as his unstable legs can carry him, throwing himself at Lukas, but the king's commander does not even turn to look at him as he uses his free hand to grab the front of Matthias' thick cloak and hold him too at bay. Matthias screams out every curse he knows as he pushes all his weigh against Lukas, trying to slip free from the cloak that twists tight around his neck, but failing.
"Rebel scum," Lukas' voice is void of emotion, cold and toneless. "Traitors to the crown and so your life is forfeit. By order of King Arthur, I sentence you to die."
Matthias wishes he had a weapon. His fists and nails do nothing against the iron grip holding him back, screaming at Lukas to stop. "Let her go, please," he begging, but Lukas only tightens his fingers harder around Viljes throat. There are tears gathering in the corners of her eyes now and she gasps weakly for air. Her eyes are fluttering as she fights to stay conscious and the white of her eyes turn red as blood vessels pop from the pressure.
Lukas tilts his head almost curiously, as if the sight is fascinating, just standing still, as her face turns red, her movements grow slower, and eyes eventually flutter shut. Then the hands that were so desperately fighting for freedom fall slack at her sides and she stops moving.
Matthias pushes against Lukas face, scratching at any surface he can reach, trying to get his attention and leaving bright red marks on the skin he was caressing just minutes ago.
Vilje drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes, unmoving as Lukas finally lets her go and turns his attention to Matthias. Lukas's gaze is still empty; there is no sign of recognition. "I have to do this; it is my duty, my purpose." His voice is monotone as if he is repeating something he has heard several times over and been forced to recite. "The rebels must be eradicated."
"Stop please," Matthias realizes he is crying. "This is not you. You don't want to do this."
Matthias expects Lukas's now free hand to wrap around his throat and drain him of life as well, but then he notices the entire arm is shaking instead and Lukas is clenching his jaw, fighting against himself again. "Lukas," Matthias sobs, hoping against all odds that he can somehow get through and stop Lukas from blindly executing his orders.
Lukas freezes and blinks rapidly, eyes seemingly struggling to focus and there is a glimmer of clarity.
Then he shoves Matthias violently away with a roar and doubles over clutching at his head, the lines on his neck glowing brightly against his pale skin and they seem to spread further up his neck.
Matthias lands on his ass and quickly scrabbles backwards, but his limbs are still shaky and slow and tears streak freely down his face. He cannot seem to take his eyes off Lukas who suddenly freeze on the spot, straightens back up with his posture stiff, and controlled. He turns towards Matthias, eyes glowing unnaturally blue, breathing heavily.
A jolt of panic shoots through Matthias at the realization that Lukas just lost his battle. He glances towards Vilje, who has not shown any sign of movement. If she is dead, it is his fault and now he is about to die as well. He finally pushed his luck too far and his infatuation might just cause the death of hundreds of people if the rebel army loses the war.
Lukas moves slowly, clearly not feeling threatened by one lowly rebel. He picks up one of his swords and stalks back to loom over Matthias, every movement elegant like a predator.
Matthias looks around for any sort of weapon within reach. The sword dropped by Vilje is too far away; as is Lukas' second one. He instinctually grabs for a sword at his side, but realizes he never brought one out with him, like an idiot. He about to die and he cannot even fight to defend himself.
He curses himself, but as he is about to give up and accept fate, his hand nudges the pouch by his hip, the pouch he usually only carries around and pays little attention to as it has become part of his everyday wear. It is time to see whether there is any truth to wives tales. He eases the little pouch loose of his belt and unlaces the thread keeping it shut, cradling it firmly in one hand, waiting for the right moment.
Lukas stalks closer, raising the sword in an elegant arch, ready to strike and then Matthias moves.
He flings the pouch and its content as hard as he can towards Lukas, who does not expect the sudden move and fails to protect himself. It hits him directly in the face, the pouch opens and the ashes explode out in a fine cloud that quickly envelopes all of him.
Lukas lets out an inhuman scream of pain and doubles over again. The sword clatters to the ground as he scratches at his own face to get the fine dust off his skin.
Matthias lies frozen, gasping for breath, but only for a few seconds. He quickly gathers himself enough to get up in his crouch, watching as Lukas howls in agony only three steps away, unable to do anything else and then falls over, bracing his hands on the ground to even stay up. His skin is turning a sickening shade of red and a strange blue-grey smoke rises from every surface the ash hit.
Matthias grabs the sword, Lukas just dropped and staggers to his feet, waiting to see what will happen. He knows he should strike when he has the opportunity, but he just cannot make himself do that. The screaming and fighting should attract guards from the walls and he does cannot waste time battling his conscience when he knows that fight is already lost.
Instead, he does the one thing he knows he can do. He stumbles over to Vilje, intending to check for breathing, refusing to give up hope without checking for himself. Her throat is severely swollen, dark bruises already forming in the exact shape of a hand and deeper marks from where fingers dug into her skin. He leans over, putting his ear right next to her mouth, and it seems like an eternity passes, and then he feels air tickle the sensitive skin on his ear and hear a soft high-pitched wheeze. There is a. There is some breath in her still, she always proves herself much more resilient than most people Matthias has met.
Matthias drops the sword to rest by his side so he can gather up Vilje in the best way, without blocking her airways further.
Lukas finally stops screaming and the following silence is a relief. Matthias looks up at him and carefully lifts the blade again, pointing it towards Lukas in clear warning, but he doubts he looks all that intimidation with how bad his hands are shaking and Vilje unconsciously resting on his other arm.
Their eyes meet and both halt.
Lukas looks confused, kneeling on the ground and coughing raggedly. He stares down at his hands that are still bright red after contact with the ashes. He then stares at Vilje and Matthias and back down to his hands and they begin shaking. Ho looks as if he has woken up from a dream with no idea of where he is and how he got there. He stumbles backwards and fall flat on his ass. The blank mask is gone again, he is wide eyed, gaze flickering, unable to focus on any one thing.
Matthias is unsure whether to trust it after everything that just happened. "Get away from us," he says warningly, even though his heart is breaking. He is still so scared and he cannot stop the words from leaving his mouth, he does not trust Lukas anywhere near Vilje, after all, everything turned to shit the moment she showed up.
"I didn't mean to," Lukas whispers weakly, voice cracking. He looks so young then, like a child that has just realized how cruel the world is and struggles to understand it. "I'm sorry." He even stutters over the words. He leans over, reaching towards Matthias as if he is about to crawl over, but flinches back when Matthias waives his sword pointedly in his direction and stops.
"This was a mistake," Matthias cries brokenly. "You almost killed my friend, you almost killed me!" His throat burns. He wants to pull Lukas in a hug, assure him somehow that they can figure this out, that everything will be okay, but Vilje's raspy breathing haunts him. The magical pull that led him to Lukas is still there, a heavy weigh in his chest and it screams in protest. "I should not have come out here, there is so much at stake, and I need to fix this."
Lukas heaves a great sob, curling in on himself tucking his hands under his armpits as if he cannot stand the sight of them, knowing what they did. He is muttering to himself, to quiet for Matthias to catch the words.
There is a faint shouting from somewhere in the distance. Heavy boots moving in their direction, and closing in fast.
"You need to leave," Lukas whispers weakly, still not looking up, apparently consumed with guilt. "I'll keep the guards off your trail, it is the least I can do, now go."
Matthias gathers Vilje into his arms. She is skinny after weeks of little food and long days of marching, but the weight feels so much greater when his guilt is added to the load. Vilje's head lolls against his chest; another quiet wheeze makes it past her lips. He needs to get back to the others, fix his mistakes if he can. He has no idea how he will explain this to Berwald and Tino. If Vilje does not make it, he will never be able to forgive himself.
He leaves Lukas there, curled up and sobbing on the streets and he is not looking back because he does not know if he will be able to keep going forwards if he do and all the way ignoring how his heart is breaking.