Edith Morgenstern ღ Freyja (allmycharm) wrote in mythologs, @ 2012-02-17 23:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | !zurvan, freyja, hector |
[closed/complete]
Characters: Hector (armystrong) & Freyja (allmycharm)
Date/Time: February 17th
Location: The palace, Camlann
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None.
Summary: Finding the injured Samael.
He was moving fast through the corridors of the palace, nearly in a jog. The distress call had worried him, but it was Freyja's message that had shocked him into action. Part of him had to fight off the temptation to call out the prince's name, for alerting the entire palace would be counter-productive, and possibly even useless if he was injured.
So Hector dutifully searched for the blonde man, breathing hard and expecting the worst. Would Freyja locate her brother first? And if so, what state was he in? Was it his blood? Too many questions, not enough answers.
He descended a stairwell, his eyes peeled for any sign of Samael.
Freyja knew it was all bad. Her brother was injured, she believed that after realizing he had written out 'help'. In public. In red (she knew what it was, she knew and couldn't even think it).
Gods above, her heart was daring to burst from her chest. She clutched the front of her gown, forcing herself to a stop to breath. A panic attack wouldn't do, not know, not when Samael needed her most. She was utterly grateful her sister wasn't here yet. It wasn't that Polyxena was a problem but that she didn't think she could focus on the both of them. Not that her darling sister would mind or take offense. Sweet girl, so patient and understanding.
Then she noted a familiar sight going down a stairwell and she pushed away from the wall she had been leaning against, hurrying toward where she saw him disappear. "Hector!"
Camlann's right-hand was stepping right back up the stairs at the sound of his name, and as he came into view and laid eyes on his queen, he beelined right for her. Freyja appeared to be rattled, and he knew she was shaken by the news without her saying a word. His hand twitched toward hers, but he didn't take it.
"I haven't found a trace of him." He was out of breath. "Where could he be?"
All fine and well he hadn't taken her hand for she would reach for his arm, clutching it hard. Her twin was somewhere, in pain. It made her rational side flee and she could not think of anything but Samael's blood and the blood she would shed to right things.
"I've checked all over where I thought he'd be but I haven't covered it all. I haven't gotten to his study, though." A ragged breath was exhaled. "Come. If we split up to cover more ground, I'm not able to lift him on my own if I find him."
He pressed his fingers over hers in some attempt at comfort. "When we find him," he corrected, casting a glance in the direction of the aforementioned study. "Stay close to me. It may not be safe." It didn't need to be said -- anyone who could hurt Samael, tall and strong as he was, would be dangerous, provided it was anyone at all. But Hector wasn't going to take any chances, not with Freyja in his company.
Maintaining a close proximity to his queen, he led the two of them toward Samael's study. At the sight of one of the doors, just slightly ajar, he held his breath and pushed it open slowly.
A very small part of her did not want to go in and see what had happened to her twin. She wanted to remember him as he was when she last saw him but that was ridiculous. For the last thing she would remember him saying was 'help'. The two would never suit side-by-side in her memories.
So she waited, unwilling to burst in and unwilling to linger. She waited until the door swung wide enough and then stifled a cry when she spotted the body of her brother (her twin). It was all very involuntary but she moved past Hector, the delicate fabric of her nightgown fluttering around her legs. And she sank down in the blood, her hands moving to go through Samael's lovely golden hair and then toward his nose, his mouth.
"He lives," she breathed softly. "Hector, help me. And fetch help, please."
The moment Freyja had fluttered inside, Hector had made sure to shut the door just enough so as not to draw any attention to the prince's crumpled form. He was at the queen's side in moments, one knee pressing down into blood. Eyes roamed Samael's body, searching for an entry wound, only to find none.
"He's been stabbed in the back," he realized aloud. "A cowardly move. The move of someone smaller, weaker."
Hearing his assessment, she touched Samael's back and felt fury flood her.
Smaller, indeed. Cowardly, yes. They couldn't even risk doing it face-to-face. "But someone clever enough to surprise him. Someone bold enough to go after a man his size," she replied, tone hot and angry. "Someone who will burn for this. I vow it on all that is holy and all that I treasure, there will be justice for my brother and I will light the fire myself. Stay until they are nothing more than ashes."
Hector's gaze fell upon the blonde man's face. He would support his queen in her endeavors, whatever they were. Anyone who dared to strike the prince deserved to suffer for it, especially when this smelled over an assassination. And if someone was to take down Samael, who was to say Freyja wasn't next?
He rose from the floor without a word, stalking toward the closest couch to fetch a pillow. It was brought over to Freyja. "Press this to the wound. He likely won't wake, but it is best to stop the blood." There was an uncomfortable pause. "This was too close. Far too close."
Freyja could take advice or she'd be a lousy ruler and one marked to be overthrown. In any case, the idea of Samael not waking made her heart just ache. She pressed the pillow to the wound, praying it would make a grand difference and they hadn't found him too late. And while looking on her fallen twin, she did not wish it had been her for then Samael would be kneeling beside her like this, suffering for what she was going through. No, she had other wishes.
Head lowered, she whispered against his ear, a tremble just tinting it. "My darling heart.
"There will be blood for this."
Wanting to leave the siblings to their moment, Hector set to the task of double-checking the room for any visitors. If the person responsible was still in the room, he was endangering his queen by allowing her to remain here. But when all was clear, he returned to her.
"I won't be able to move him on my own. I'll fetch help, but my lady, you must lock the door behind me. That is the only way to ensure your safety." Too much talking, not enough hurrying for help. He shifted toward the door.
Head lifting, Freyja did not feel like a queen in that moment. She was bloodstained, her heart was still pounding beneath her breast and anxiety had more than likely etched itself in her every feature. Features she knew appealed to so many, including Samael. She rose, though, with the grace she always had and had been taught, moving toward the door to lock it.
"I will, Hector." A hand pressed to his arm briefly. "I will need you more here onward. And I know you will be faithful to me. To Camlann.
"So go but hurry back as quickly as you can."
His head dipped out of respect. Familiar as they were, she was still the queen of Camlann.
"My dedication to you and Camlann will not waver in this time of need. I'll be as swift as possible," he promised her, allowing one parting glance at Samael before slipping through the other door, feet hitting the floor hard and fast.