:: The Joust of Riley's 17th Year ::

[eblouissant]

It was the first time that Riley had been on the field, he'd trained hard for this. Very hard, all around him the area of people watched from their stands and seats. His armor gleamed pristine, the visor over his head, the jousting javelin tucked firmly underneath his arm.

Riding astride on his stallion, he galloped toward the ready line as the Games Crier spoke out his name. "Sir Cyril of House Valiase and his opponent Sir Germaine Moreau, please take your positions." and then Riley was in place, his heart thundering in his ears even while all around him the stadium turned as silent save for a few coughs here and there. The horn was blown and then he dug his heels in, pressed himself forward and started.

Grounding himself into the saddle, his eyes never leaving his opponent. Pounding hoofs the only thing to break the silence. That moment of fear, the way his stomach hit his throat and made him choke, so close so close. Held Breath. And then the sound of armor where he prepared for anything. No thinking, nothing-- head empty.

A clatter behind him as he charged forth. He had expected weightlessness, pain, but nothing as he made it to the end and he turned his horse around to see the attendants on the field rushing to Sir Germaine's side to help him from where he had stopped. Already they were assisting him off his horse, medics and his page. And then the crier called out.

"The Winner, Sir Cyril of House Valiase!" and the crowd went almost wild. Somewhere in the stands, he knew that his father was smiling approvingly, but his eyes did not search for his father. But a pair of eyes that he knew quite well, sitting in the royal box. There he could see them there, clapping along with the crowds-- his father not too far away from King Etienne itself.

A polite smile at his father and his King. And then his eyes searched out his best friend Guillaume with a far more shy smile; he was handed a rose by his page and there was a moment where he tried to figure out what to do with it.. he knew what to do, give it to a young lady of the court as was the proper procedure. A look at best friend, fleeting before he cantered his horse up to one of the young ladies of the Court and he handed her the rose.

--

Parties were like this, the celebrations were massive and with no expense spared. Now Riley could have found much more useful things to spend money on than a fountain of champagne and one of matching chocolate side by side-- but he did not make the rules nor did he hold the purse strings, so he held a glass of wine and watched the dancing.

He'd already done the required dancing with the young lady he'd given the rose to, also had been grilled on his mother on if she would make a suitable 'wife' for him. He did not care either way, if they arranged it then they did, it was not uncommon for parents to arrange matches for their children though he'd heard Guillaume state that his father the King was attempting to change that, to make Olympia more accepting. Trying to bridge the gap between Sylvia and Olympia, attempting to give women more rights.. everything that most Lords balked at (including Riley's father).

It felt like a fairy tale that was told, a fairy tale where magic existed and where women could be knights, where a marriage was only dictated by love. it was such a beautiful fairy tale, but Riley heard his father speak in contempt of such things, and Riley was not sure of the country was ready for that yet.

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[eblouissant]

His father may not have been at the carnival, but he knew that people who had known of his father would be there and so it was important to keep a very low profile. The low light of the carnival, the people milling about and laughing, the acrobats-- he could see Eden doing some stunts with a hoop which caused people to clap with delight.

There was no sign of threats from what he could determine.

Riley had kept to the shadows too with the hood drawn up, making a very slow circuit around. That is when he saw the other hooded figure, unlike the rest. His fingers gripped the pommel of his sword and then he very carefully and very slowly started to creep sideways much like a crab would, taking a very circuitous route. Anyone who did not reveal their faces were under some type of suspicious though Riley supposed in retrospect that the same could be said for him.

His necklace was tucked just underneath his tunic and his chain mail.. clothing all black because.. well, wasn't he still mourning after all this time. And he he was discreetly watching the figure, this was his job and if he had to take care of them, he would.

[giveanything]

Liam, for all his being on edge, did not notice that he had attracted any attention, did not notice the stealthy approach of the other man. Maybe it was being so close to his goal, the adrenaline and quiet terror of needing to escape. Either way, he was too preoccupied with his search.

Finally, he located a wagon that seemed to be mostly packed. The caravan would be leaving tomorrow from what he understood. With any luck, this wagon would be mostly left alone, already prepped for heading to the next town.

He just needed to get inside. A gloved hand reached to try the door. Locked. Fuck. Lock picking was not his strongest skill, but what choice did he have? A quick glance around, and he risked a spell, a soft murmur before a glow of light bloomed beside him, just enough to let him see what he was doing -- though it managed to cast his features in further shadow given how his hood was drawn -- as he started at the lock.

[eblouissant]

Indeed, the hooded figure was being trailed as Riley found himself quickly and stealthily on the prowl, his heartbeat quickened-- perhaps with the resolve that nothing should befall this caravan that had become as a family to him.

The flare of something.. magic-- not a unknown thing to him, there were quite a few magic users in the Lhant Caravan and he'd grown used to the familarity of it. Quite handy too though he held not a single spark within him and that was fine.

Around the corner he ducked and peeked, watching the figure undo the padlock. It was quiet but now was his chance, and he seized it.

The tip of a sword, at the small of the back and a hoarse low voice said quietly. "Step away from the Caravan." The voice may not be recognizeable as it was hissed out, quiet because he didn't want to cause alarm to the Caravan or the Patrons.

[giveanything]

Liam felt the pressure of a blade at his back and went immediately still. His mind raced even faster than his heart, terror so intense it had him feeling like he might forget how to breathe. He was so close, so close to escape, and he was going to wind up taken back and he couldn't...

He couldn't go back. He couldn't.

He was so tired of hurting people, but he was a cornered animal in this moment. He straightened slowly as if intending to do exactly what the holder of the blade had bade him do, but then all at once he was in motion, fast and decisive. The source of light was brought around, hoping to disorient and perhaps momentarily blind his assailant, even as his other hand lifted, the start of a dim otherworldly glow in a sickly green curling around his fingers, energy ready to be released at point blank range on this man.

It was the light that did it though, the new angle of it casting illumination beneath the hood of the taller figure, over familiar features that Liam would never, could never, forget. The eldritch blast immediately flared out, and he stared, wide-eyed, at a ghost. Beneath his own hood, only his eyes were really visible, a mask covering the lower part of his face, but the dark eyes peering at Riley were wild and wide and somewhere between confused and terrified.

Oh gods he was losing his mind. The light flickered as his mind tried to make sense of what was going on, and he staggered backwards before stumbling and falling. The small leather book went tumbling from his belt then, pages fluttering open and spilling a number of the delicate pressed flowers out onto the ground. A distraught cry slipped free before he could stop it. His flowers.

[eblouissant]

He did not know what had just happened, he certainly did not see anything in the whispy green because he'd been too busy raising his forearm to his face to block whatever he thought was coming. An offensive spell, though he trusted his ability to recover if needed. The fumbling of the other person, somehow he managed to stumble against his sword and knock it out of hand-- he made a lunge for sword as the figure tries to chase after a.. probably spellbook.

Once he had his sword in hand, he spoke still in that hushed hoarse voice. "Leave quietly and without a fuss, and I will let you walk away." A strange sort of mercy, but Riley had always been kind, always been merciful.

He did not pull his hood back, it may have been a trick of the light and some unbidden longing but he was all business in this moment and careful to keep his identity hidden in a city that his father ruled. Better still to keep to the shadows until the next time.

The jawline just revealed by the hood was far more sharp, and it looked like there was golden stubble as well, but the mouth-- did indeed bear similarities, and it looked like a certain mouth that Liam had kissed many a times.

[giveanything]

Liam had made it to the scattered flowers, gathering them up as carefully as if he expected them to crumble at his touch. With shaking hands and perhaps strange reverence, he tucked them back into the pages of the book carefully, closing it and then holding it tightly to his chest. He forced himself to breathe and to try to comprehend what had just happened.

What he'd saw.

He made no attempt to rise from where he knelt on the ground, clutching his book. It couldn't be his Riley. He'd seen him die. He'd seen him executed for the sin of being loyal to the former king. To Liam. Riley was gone, and that was Liam's fault. He hadn't been able to save him, and his own heart had died that day too.

"Please..." he started, his own voice a strained whisper, not trusting himself to look up. That glimpse of a face that he longed to see was too much. He couldn't risk seeing some other trick of the light tempting him with ghosts and impossible visions. He didn't think his sanity would survive it, so he kept his head down. "I have nowhere else to go. He'll find me, and I... I can't go back. I just need to get out of the city without being seen. I can't pay much, but whatever I have you can take."

[eblouissant]

Riley had not known at the time that his father had 'executed' him in public, until much later; it had suited his purpose to be a ghost as he had felt like one, still felt like one to this day-- barely living except in hope of instilling someone on the throne who was much better, who would actually do some good in this world.

Like the Etienne's would've wanted.

Like Liam would've wanted.

At the jumbled words that bespoke fear, there was something in Riley's demeanor that changed; it became a little bit less imposing, intimidating. At his core, Riley was a soft-hearted individual and he could not help but be moved in his own way-- the jaw unclenched and his shoulders untensed, he knelt down beside the other man, wanting to provide some sort of succor. Riley did not pull the hood back, he did not trust himself to because there were too many eyes and Faori was not a safe place for him or his presence, who knew who could be watching.

"Our next stop is Lashanett, if that will get you out of harms way-- I mean, everybody works in the Caravan but if you're not opposed to making pancakes in the morning or tending horses then passage can be arranged." and Riley was one hundred percent confident that the Impersario would not care either way, he had other people to worry about the day to day of the Caravan.

The tone was still whispered and hoarse, but the words.. the words, those words would feel familiar like a warm blanket.

[giveanything]

"Anywhere but here..." Liam began, nodding at that. Lashanett would be good. He could continue on from there. Harm's way was everywhere, he imagined, but it was still better than here. Another hurried nod in agreement. He could work. "I can make pancakes. I used to be good at it." A lifetime ago, in the quieter kitchen of his family's summer home where he felt less like he was in the way, the staff would cede the kitchen to the young prince's whims, and he'd learned to cook breakfast for Patrice and for Riley, with his adorable sweet tooth and--

Riley.

His mind was still playing tricks on him, because now even that voice -- tone and words more than anything, given the still whispered sound. The light he'd cast had dimmed, but he hadn't banished it yet, and he shut his eyes for a moment to take a breath, to steady himself as he lifted his head. He opened his eyes and forced himself to look at this other man, hooded and in shadow, to assure himself that he was indeed just imagining things, that the overwhelming rush of emotions and adrenaline were messing with him.

Except, that's not what he saw, instead even with the years that had woven themselves in between them, all he could see was, "Riley?" His voice broke on the name, tentative and halfway between fear and agonizing hope.

[eblouissant]

A shadowed moment, the tendrils of humanity and something else that tipped into him-- a nostalgia, a sadness of something that he could never go back to; something that he was very much still not over. He wore black because he was still mourning his love and imagined he would always mourn Liam in some way or fashion-- but then he heard a strangled voice, raspy and he his own brows knit together as he looked into those eyes.

Really looked into them.

And he saw dark eyes, there were no light in these eyes-- not like he remembered, but his heart made a beeline to his throat and constricted almost painfully. He nearly choked with it, those were Liam's eyes though also different; he could tell it with clarity that these were not the Liam of what felt like forever ago.

"L.. Liam?" his voice further lowered into a whisper though it had grown frantic, he glanced first to one side and then to the other, and once he ascertained that all was quiet, he pushed his hood back a little bit and revealing in that dim light even clearer-- the features of the young Knight Valiase. Except not so young anymore, a face tinged with experience but also shadows just underneath those eyes, he'd lost all of his 'on the brink of manhood' softness, except for those eyes which had turned as soft as a misty morning in their greyness. "How..? You're..."

Dead, Liam was dead-- he'd heard the news, had attended the funeral in secret. Four portraits sat upon dias, and one of them had been Liam's. Ashen remains had been found, he'd heard the reports.

[giveanything]

It was Riley. It was his Riley. All the breath was ripped from his lungs at once, and he found himself staring as the man across from him pushed his hood back. And gods he would know that face anywhere, no matter how the years had touched it. The boyhood softness was gone, but that gentle gaze, those eyes that Liam had never failed to lose himself in.

He made no move to push his own hood or mask back. That was not allowed, and it would be hard to break that particular piece of training. Probably hard to break several, but even just hearing that name, his name was startling. It wasn't something he'd heard in years. He was a nameless thing, barely a person.

It took him a moment to remember how to breathe, and then gloved hands lifted, a trembling in his fingers as he cupped gently at the handsome, familiar, beloved face in front of him. Riley. His Riley.

Though, no, not his. He wasn't Prince Guillaume anymore, and it had been so long. But Riley was alive here in front of him. So he stammered a matching confusion to the other man's. "I saw you die. He made me watch them kill you. How?"

[eblouissant]

His throat felt dry, it felt like he had not spoken in years.

It still was not safe and with one hand he reached up to tug his hood back into place because there were still people who would alert his father if he was seen, worst cast scenario was kill him. But he'd shown the other man a glimmer.

The eyes were enough and he he closed his eyes, and then he started to cry; it was just.. tears. He could not precisely control them, it wasn't for himself that he was crying but it was for whatever it was. He tried to be strong, had tried to be brave and to push on and now the weight of all of this hit him; he did not reach up to brush or even wipe his tears away. "I.. overheard my father talking to someone, about the plans. I came to the summer house as fast as I could but it was too late and.. I knew that I could not go back and pretend, so I didn't."

The fact that his father had him 'executed' was a sign that he was to never come back and that he would not be King ever, but Riley had not wanted to be King.. not when it had been Liam who was the heir. "I don't know who they executed and I feel guilty that an innocent person had to be executed in my stead but.." his voice quiet, ".. there needs to be one person in this world who will look with censure on everything the King does.. as a reminder of his sins."

[giveanything]

That glimmer was enough. Liam's entire world had been upended in this moment. Part of him had realized at the time why his patron had made certain that he was a witness to what he'd believed to be Riley's execution. It was to break him, to crush any thought of rebellion before it could take root. The message was clear. Help is not coming. There will be no rescue. The world you knew is dead and gone. All that you loved is gone. Because it was loved by you.

But somehow here was his heart alive and beating in Riley, alive. And crying. Something tore in Liam's chest and he brushed away those tears with gloved fingers, very suddenly wishing he could touch him, feel his skin or taste his lips, remind himself what love tasted like. But he had no right to do that, not after all this time. Not with the things he'd done. He hadn't noticed that tears were falling from his own eyes as well.

"Your father doesn't know I'm alive. He thinks he's in charge, believes this was all his design, but the thing pulling his strings has his own agenda." More reason for Liam to get out of the city. And in those dark eyes there was the faintest flicker of something -- life, maybe even hope -- for the first time since that night.

[eblouissant]

"Then we will..." he spoke this quietly, the soft leather of gloves brushing away what had been. Riley wanted to speak, wanted to say something anything but his entire heart was still feeling something like shock over the fact that Liam was not dead, that he was alive. "We will get you to safety."

He glanced over his shoulder, at the milling crowds, the soft hum of noise. It still was not safe, for either of us so they would have to keep a low profile. He quickly got up and then he motioned toward some of the caravans off in the distance. "Come... we'll get you hidden." perhaps Riley should've been a little bit more careful but the part of him that wanted to help, came in even fuller force since this was Liam.

"I share a caravan with Kay'dia but she's out on patrol currently, making sure that none of the entitled nobles try to take what performers have not offered; it'll be a damn sight more comfortable than where we keep the accessories for our Bear Performers."

[giveanything]

Liam's face was masked, his hood still drawn but maybe Riley would see it through even through the obscuring fabric, the way Liam's mouth twisted in a sheepish almost apologetic smile, familiar in that it had been the face he'd typically made when he'd been caught up in a poorly thought out decision, but wasn't terribly apologetic about it. Okay yes maybe the Bear Performers accessories wagon was not the best option, but he'd been winging it. And he was quite sure that Riley's caravan would smell better, but again. He'd been very intent on any port in a storm. "I suppose I don't really fit in with bears." He was definitely on the twink end of the spectrum.

Reluctantly he dropped his hands away from Riley's face and picked his book back up, another soft dismayed sound as he realized he'd almost missed one of the flowers that had fallen, quickly and carefully picking it up. He couldn't lose them. They were all he had left. Except here was Riley alive and in the flesh and right in front of him. A quiet sob escaped before he swallowed it down and nodded. Right yes. Hidden.

"I don't mean to put anyone in danger by being here. Especially you. But I saw the chance and I ran and--" he forced himself to stop before everything came spilling out of him. Not out here. Not in the open where anyone could see, could recognize him. He finally climbed to his feet.

[eblouissant]

Riley was still in a state of shock and he was not thinking properly except to safeguard Liam, the rightful King of Olympia; he waited for Liam to gather what he needed too and then he was skirting along the outskirts, a wry smile crossed over his lips. "I promise you that this Caravan has ways of protecting itself so you will be safe, I can assure you that. Just right now with other people coming in and out, it could get messy if we're discovered."

Very messy. Two people who were reportedly dead to the world, with graves.

He'd seen his own grave, the words "Disgraced" written poetically upon it, he wondered what point his father had gotten to do that? He was still Liam's knight, and he.. his heart gods his heart recognized that immediately-- Knight Mode activated the way he guided Liam around until they both got to the guard caravan, and then he opened the door and motioned for LIam to quickly get inside.

"You were right to escape from wherever you have been held, they'll have to go through me to get you back." that was a promise, of course it was.

[giveanything]

Liam let himself be led. All these years, and it was still second nature to fall in beside Riley. All these years, and for the first time he actually felt safe, less because of the promise of the refuge the caravan provided so much as the fact that Riley was here.

He nodded. "We're both ghosts here," he murmured quietly. Both dead men somehow still on this side of the ground.

So he did not hesitate before climbing up the steps into the caravan wagon, looking back to Riley to make sure that the other man was coming as well. There was the sense in him, however irrational it may be, that if he let Riley out of his sight this would turn out to be nothing more than a dream, some desperate yearning in his subconscious manifesting itself.

Then Riley said those words, and Liam was swept up in a sudden rush of warmth and a simultaneously sinking cold at the thought of his demonic patron coming anywhere near Riley. No. No he couldn't let that happen. Oh gods he shouldn't be here. He was going to get Riley killed, for real this time. "No. No, I won't let him anywhere near you. I won't."

[eblouissant]

"Yes, that we are." he murmured in return, the ghosts and all that it entailed-- not fully existing in this world, at least as how it had been known once upon a time. But for right now they were relatively safe (he thought) and so he moved to turn on one of the lamps lightly. "My bed is on the left, you can make yourself comfortable there, I know that it is a bit cramped but both she and I take different shifts so we usually have it all to ourselves."

Usually, though in Faori that threw the schedule for a loop because of his special circumstances which he'd told the Caravan awhile ago that it was best for him to make himself scarce when he was in the Royal City.

"Do you want something to eat, are you thirsty?" there was a little ice box where meat and cheese were kept for sandwiches, as well as glass bottles holding local ale and mead.

[giveanything]

Liam hesitated before moving to sit lightly at the edge of the bed that Riley had indicated. He hadn't moved to remove his hood or mask yet, or his gloves, but dark eyes still watched Riley, entirely transfixed on him. A ghost, but the most welcome ghost he could imagine. Liam loved him, had always loved him, would always love him. When Riley was 'dead' Liam's heart had died with him. And now it wanted to beat again, but he knew that wasn't fair. Riley had been alive all this time, living another life that Liam knew nothing about.

He could have a lover, a family, anything. Maybe even this Kay'dia that Riley shared this wagon with? And Liam wouldn't begrudge him whatever life or happiness he'd carved out and built for himself. He'd be happy for him. He truly would.

But oh his entire being ached to feel those arms around him again, the haven that he'd thought was lost to him forever.

Liam only realized he'd been asked a question a few moments after Riley had actually asked it. He shook his head. "I'm all right." He didn't actually remember the last time he'd eaten, but he was still too caught up in the rush of adrenaline and fear to think about food.

And much more importantly. "You're really here. You're really alive."

[eblouissant]

The cloak came off and was hung on the little hook to the side of the door, and yes he had to stoop a little bit to do so, and then he came back toward the bed and sat down on it; the black of his garments and the rustling chain mail underneath.. for protection's sake. He smiled though it was a bit weary even as he looked to Liam, to the man who was masked but he still knew it was him-- the eyes.

He wanted to reach over and brush the backs of his fingers lightly over skin but he knew that he dared not-- he did not know, they both did not know.. the years hung between them, years that they had imagined would've been filled with beautiful memories and growing up together, growing older together. Whose to say what turn their lives would've been taken if it had been allowed to flourish unimpeded-- but those were only speculation.

"I could say the same of you, you know." he smiled but it was furrowed and there were still cares there, all the grief he'd processed trying to rush out of him, though there was still a grief that remained, because it had still happened, he'd grieved and time had passed.

"There are so many questions but I do not want to inundate you with them, I cannot imagine you are anything but exhausted." and then after a few moments he asked very softly. "May I.. see your face?"

[giveanything]

Liam found himself turning towards Riley, like a sunflower tracked the path of the sun across the sky, all too willing to fall over himself to bloom for the other man, returned to him like a miracle. He didn't deserve a miracle, but here it was anyway, in front of him.

That smile on Riley's face, and Liam was the one reaching out even though he knew that he shouldn't. He couldn't help it. That smile, how many nights had he dreamed about it, some small comfort that he could dream of everything he'd lost? But there was that sadness still in Riley's expression, and Liam wished he could soothe it away. He'd learned magic, but no spell that could do that. Still, his fingers touched over Riley's cheek, the edge of that smile.

The request startled him. "Oh. Right, of course. Sorry. I'm not normally allowed..." Well. The mask was always present save when he was left alone, put away until his master had use of him again. But he'd escaped that, and maybe he ought to start acting like it. He drew his hand back from Riley to push his hood back and draw the mask down and away from his face.

It was the face that Riley had known, the last traces of childhood gone, jawline sharp and defined, shadowed with dark stubble, but that mouth that had been so full of mirth and mischief, still managed a flicker of a smile, a shadow of the past, but more than he'd had reason for in ages. And since he could, he took his gloves off as well.

"I have so many questions too. I... I'd rather talk than rest."

[eblouissant]

Talking was great, it was good.

Thankfully most everything in the caravan could be reached from the bed, and so he leaned over to grab two bottles of mead and then he passed one to Liam; he had a feeling maybe a drink would be needed as they talked over what had happened, really just everything. He'd felt that soft shiver through his body the moment Liam touched him-- and as he passed the bottle over, he allowed his own eyes to drink over the features that were far different and yet still Liam-- beautiful. But he could use more to eat and drink, and also sleep.

They were going to talk about difficult things, but they were not alone-- not anymore. He shifted onto the bed, his back against the wall and then he patted the spot beside him, for Liam to come closer. There was safety in closeness.

"What happened, on the inside-- that night?" I heard that there was a plan and they uttered the intent of the plan but I do not.. I cannot begin to fathom."

[giveanything]

Liam took the bottle, looking from Riley, down to it and back again. The mead would probably help the conversation go easier. He could see the logic in this. Another attempt at a smile, and he ducked his head with a murmured thanks. It was a bit strange to smile, like the muscles in his face had nearly forgotten how the expression went, except he couldn't help but try because Riley was here.

That gratitude only grew as Riley indicated for him to sit close, and he did that. Not quite touching even though it was killing something in him every moment that he wasn't touching the other man to assure himself that Riley was real.

He took a drink before he tried to answer that question.

"We'd just finished dinner. Father and I were in the study, discussing the Spring Festival, talking about opening our borders more and inviting diplomatic envoys... Patrice was finishing his lessons with Sir Dumas, and it all happened at once. There was a commotion out front, but before we could find out what was happening, we heard the sound of struggle in the halls. They'd planned it for a long time. They'd infiltrated the guards and... anyone loyal to father was killed."

He shut his eyes. "Sir Dumas took Patrice off through the emergency passage to try to get him to safety. Father and I tried to barricade the door, but they broke through. They killed Father... he fell at my feet, shielding me. And then everything was on fire, and it was so hot and there was so much smoke. Then the demon came."

[eblouissant]

It was hard not to offer comfort and so very carefully Riley reached for the hand not holding the mead bottle, and he carefully twined their fingers together. Oh how they still fit together, he'd been afraid that they'd grown too much where those fingers wouldn't but now they were here and he found himself slowly rubbing his thumb lightly over the back of the hand.

He would have been there, he would have been here-- he should have been there, he had agonized over it but right now in this moment he hadn't been there and that was good because he could be here now to comfort Liam who had somehow been spared.

"And Sir Dumas and Patrice?" he had to inquire, were they still alive-- if they were then they had the very beginnings of a revolution. Of course he would not know that this would tie into the demon? And he somehow did not blink about the demon, or even express a bit of shock that there was a demon or that they existed. "Was there a deal involved? With the demon?"

[giveanything]

Riley took his hand and Liam looked over at him before he wrapped his fingers around the other man's in turn. Their hands did still fit together, as if that is what they had always been made for. The caress of that thumb soothed something in him, an anxiety that had been in full throttle for years.

He found himself chewing on his lower lip before nodding. "There was a deal. He offered me my life. I told him to go to hell. Then he offered to let Patrice live, and I..." Well, he couldn't say no. "I agreed. He let Sir Dumas and Patrice escape, and I belonged to him." His fingers tightened around Riley's again as if to remind himself that he was here in this moment, and not back in that flame-filled room.

"I don't know where they went, where they are now, but Patrice is still alive, somewhere." Though he was certain his little brother believed Liam himself was dead, and that was probably for the best.

"I've done so many terrible things since that night."

[eblouissant]

"Considering that a demon emotionally blackmailed you into a pact, that is no surprise at all." he said very quietly, here to offer comfort but also to make it known that he did not blame Liam or think that he was evil for doing what he could to survive. Because he'd seen the pain and guilt there, he'd always known that there was nothing that Liam had wanted to be but as good of a person as his father was.

He squeezed that hand in return, warmth and gentleness there within it.

"The only Olympian that is currently in this Caravan is Eden, her real name is Eloise and she wanted freedom so.. but otherwise these people come from Kyria, Sylvia and Falia." he said this quietly. "No one will know who you are, you will have a bit of anonymity." this was meant to assure him; he did not speak what was unspoken-- that the Demon would come after Liam-- it was an inevitability. "What is our plan once we reach Lashenett?"