Chapter Text
Steve would have liked to say that as soon as he saw the boy his heart thawed and that his eyes opened only for him. The truth was, he didn’t really see him until much later.
All eyes were on him as he entered with shackles around his feet and wrists, but Steve was counting the shards of stained glass in the walls. The crowd was hushed, nobility gawking and even servants pausing to look at the man. Eyes bounced between the prisoner and the King and Queen. Some eyes darted to Steve, who straightened and felt the circlet on his head shift. He tried to look interested, like the processions of the royal family did not make his mind numb with boredom and confusion.
“You, Eddie Munson, stand guilty of treason and conspiring to overthrow the monarchy.”
Steve’s eyes finally slid to the man standing before him, long curly hair caked in mud and pants tattered at the hem. Wrists raw around the edges of the iron manacles, but it was the eyes that Steve caught on, like a rabbit to a snare. His eyes burned not with fury but intense determination that Steve had never seen before. In the courts Steve knew the look of greed and simpering flattery, but the kind of conviction in this prisoner's eyes was rare.
“You have already been found guilty of your crimes-”
“I didn’t even get a trial, you piece of shit!”
Steve blinked, realizing half a second after the words left Eddie’s mouth that it was he who spoke it. A muted whisper broke out among the courts in shock. Steve raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the tune of curiosity. Who was this guy to have the balls to talk to a king like that?
A guard forced Eddie to his knees with a grunt. The King frowned.
“How dare you speak to your king like that?”
“Oh please,” Eddie spat, “We both know what’s coming, why don’t you just announce that I’m going to be put to death tomorrow and we can get on with this? I’m sure your vulture of nobles are having a field day with this, but I’m over it.”
A hum broke out over the crowd, like a nest of hornets buzzing. Some buzzes were in excitement, others in curiosity and still others in apprehension.
“Silence!” Steve’s father held out a hand and everything went still. “You are a criminal. Guilty of plots to assassinate the royal family and conspiracy to overthrow our government. You do not deserve any less than the death penalty.”
“Then give it to me,” Eddie sneered.
Steve raised his fist to his chin, unable to tear his eyes away from the criminal in front of him. There was something about him that Steve couldn’t place that crawled into the back of his mind and nestled there. No matter how many times Steve tried to lose interest as the proceedings went on, to act like this was any other court assembly, his eyes drew back to the fire in Eddie’s.
“You need to be made an example of. Your crimes cannot just be punished. In a little less than a month the Summer Solstice Festival will be upon us. Your execution will be a public one, in front of thousands. So that it may be known to any remaining sympathizers of your Hellfire Alliance that it is futile to resist the power of the court.”
From where Eddie knelt, he held his chin high and glared at the King. “Go fuck yourself.”
The gasp from the crowd was in unison, but beyond a quirk of his lips hidden behind his fist, Steve didn’t react. The guy had guts, to be told he was going to be murdered in front of thousands only to tell his father to fuck himself. The itch in the back of Steve’s mind grew in size.
The guards dragged Eddie away, but not before he flipped off the court. The King dismissed the court soon after, but Steve remained in his chair, parsing through the events of the sentencing.
“Steve?” Nancy appeared at his side, dressed in her knight’s armor. Her sword dangled at her side, and Steve wondered what means would be used to execute Eddie. “Are you ready to go?”
Steve stood, held his circlet aloft in one hand and ran his fingers through his hair with the other. He glanced at his guard, who raised her eyebrows.
“What are you thinking?” Nancy asked as Steve walked out of the throne room.
“I’m thinking,” he said, “that I want to talk to that prisoner tonight.”
Nancy was sworn to the crown first, but she was Steve’s bodyguard and friend more than she really obeyed the commands of the king. She was the most proficient sword fighter in the region, and though she wasn’t tall, she could give a glare that would send bears running to their mothers.
So it didn’t take much for her to smuggle Steve in to see Eddie. He’d wrapped a cloak around his shoulders and tugged the hood over his head, creating shadows in the valleys of his face. Nancy had a story ready - she always did - about how the king wanted someone to interrogate the prisoner for information about accomplices, and to make sure Eddie didn’t kill himself before the execution. The pair were in the dungeons not much later. The moonlight streaked through small windows only there for ventilation. Nancy wasn’t in her armor anymore, but her sword was strapped to her back and Steve knew better than to think she still wasn’t lethal.
“I can really only give you about half an hour. There’s only so long you can ‘interrogate’ him before it becomes suspicious.”
“Thank you,” Steve replied, scanning the prison cells for a man with long curly hair and eyes made with brimstone.
Eddie was in the very back of the prison, chains linking him to an anchor in the ground. His wrists were bound by those iron bands, and up close Steve could see the raw blisters and rashes bordering them. His ankles were in a similar state. Eddie sported a black eye and blood around his nose, which were fresh. Scratches on his arms were scabbed over.
“Your Highness,” Eddie said with surprise when Steve lowered the hood in the solidarity of the deep dungeons. Eddie didn’t bow when he saw Steve, didn’t even stand. He just met Steve’s eyes with brown ones that sang of passion.
Nancy took a place leaning against the wall next to the cell, alert for the sound of danger. Steve stood, searching Eddie’s face for the answers to questions he had.
They didn’t answer, so Steve opened his mouth and asked, “Why do you want the royal family dead?”
Eddie sighed through his nose and picked at a scab on his hands. “I don’t.”
Steve was stunned into silence for a long moment. “You’re a traitor to the throne. You’re guilty of treason. You wanted my father dead. Why?”
“I’m not guilty of anything. I’m as innocent as a baby cow.”
“You don’t have to lie,” Steve tried, “You might as well admit it.”
“Believe me, Your Highness, I’ve got no love for the crown. Let’s say I would not be in the line of mourners if one of you kicked the bucket. But I don’t hate you enough to kill you.”
Steve sank to the floor, crossing his legs under him. “You’re guilty. Obviously you did something.”
“Besides tell a story, I have done nothing.”
Steve pored over Eddie, searching for some kind of clue as to what was going on. There was something Steve was missing, but he couldn’t tell what.
“My father mentioned a Hellfire Alliance. What’s that?”
Eddie tilted his head to the side. “Why are you here, Prince?”
“I want to know what kind of man has the balls to curse my father in front of everyone. I want to know what you did to earn this prison cell.”
“All this effort just to satisfy your morbid curiosity?” Steve shrugged. Eddie took a deep breath. “I never conspired to murder the royal family. Like I said, I’ve no fondness for them, but I’m not stupid enough to threaten their lives.”
“Why should I believe you? You could be lying to me.”
“I’m scheduled to die in just a few weeks. My destiny has been sealed. What would I gain from lying?” Steve could offer no rebuttal, so Eddie continued, “The fact is, I am just a scapegoat to be the example to people that do want to threaten the royal lives. A convenient head to pin all the blame on.”
“Why you?” Steve tucked his knee in, leaning forward.
“Tell you what,” Eddie leaned forward and Nancy shifted beside Steve, “if you want to know so badly, Your Highness, you can come back tomorrow. And bring me some food. What they’re giving me is shit.”
Steve narrowed his eyes. “Why not tell me now?”
“Because I’m tired. And you want more information. I’ve piqued your royal interest. I might as well get something out of this exchange.”
Steve stood, brushed the dirt off his cloak. “You’ll tell me about the Hellfire Alliance and how you got here if I bring you some food?”
“Sure. It’ll give me something to look forward to in this hellhole.”
Steve gestured to Nancy, who pushed off the wall and stood at his shoulder. “I’ll be back, then.”
“See you soon, Your Royal Highness.”
Steve left and couldn’t shake the feeling of Eddie’s strong eyes boring into his back as he strode down the halls of the prison.
Nancy insisted on going with him again despite Steve’s complaints that he could handle a shackled prisoner who couldn’t even reach the bars. She gave Steve that pointed stare which meant You-Steve-Harrington-are-an-idiot-and-I-don’t-trust-you-not-to-do-something-stupid.
So Steve held a bundle of bread, jerky and grapes -courtesy of the chef - under his cloak while Nancy did the talking once again. She steered Steve to Eddie’s cell even though he remembered it clearly.
Eddie was sitting with his back to the wall, an arm propped up on a knee and his eyes boring into Steve the second he came into view.
“I brought you stuff from the kitchen,” Steve began by way of introduction. He pulled his hood down and tossed the bundle of food to Eddie, who stuffed a crust of bread into his mouth like a starving man. Steve realized after a moment that he probably was starving. He made a note to bring more food next time.
Next time?
Nancy took her place at the wall of the cell, eyes unmoving. Steve tucked his foot under his knee and waited for Eddie to pause for air before he asked, “What’s the Hellfire Alliance?”
“Jesus, you can’t wait for a guy to finish eating?” Eddie glared as he popped six grapes into his mouth at a time. “At least introduce yourself formally or ask how my day was, sheesh. I thought they were supposed to teach princes manners.”
“My name is Steve. Nice to meet you?”
“Oh, yeah, the dark prison cell really offers a lovely place for first impressions. I’m Eddie.”
“Hi, Eddie.”
“Next question.”
“Am I allowed to ask about Hellfire yet?”
Eddie rolled his eyes but he was smiling through the mouthful of jerky. “Come on, Your Highness, you can do better than that. I thought small talk and smiles were right up the royal family's alley.”
“You don’t have to call me Highness or Prince Steve or anything like that. Just Steve.” Steve felt the faint aftertaste of disgust that always lingered whenever anyone used formal titles on him.
Eddie swallowed. “Steve,” he said. His tongue curled around the syllables of Steve’s mouth like he was testing how it tasted. It lilted at the end, like there was something more to be said after his name.
Steve floundered for more things to say that weren’t the questions bursting in his mind all day. “I like your…manacles.”
Eddie laughed, a surprised burst of sound that seemed to catch him off guard. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” Steve protested with a scowl, “I’m not good at pleasantries and small talk!”
“I’ll put you out of your misery,” Eddie offered, wrapping the leather bundle back up and tossing it back to Steve, “You can ask whatever questions you have now.”
“What’s Hellfire?”
“Hellfire is a guild of adventurers that assemble literature, information, and other such valuables. We also take on dangerous tasks, when the cause is right. Or money is involved.”
“So you’re mercenaries.”
“Adventurers,” Eddie glared at him, “We don’t usually take on the more…murderous jobs. Unless the murder is a three headed monster in the desert caverns. But that’s not very common. Usually it’s more like searching for lost knowledge and finding stories to tell. Whether the stories are a thousand years old or they’re my own stories.”
Steve tilted his head. “So if you’re just a guild of librarians-”
“Adventurers!”
“Why were you the ‘scapegoat’ for the king to use? And what does that even mean? Why would there need to be a scapegoat?”
Eddie picked dirt out from under his nails. “Man, you don’t go outside much, do you?”
“No,” Steve’s ears burned, “Not unless there’s an escort.” Steve couldn’t exactly count nights that he snuck out of the castle and stayed with Robin. He still rarely talked to anyone else for fear they would notice him.
“If you haven’t noticed, there’s not a lot of people happy with the crown. There’s a lot of people who would pay good money for the death of the king and his heir, as well as an angry mob who wants their voices to be heard.”
Steve leaned forward with clasped knuckles. “What has the royal family done to them?”
“The real question is what has the royal family done for them? And the answer is nothing. Besides tax them for more than everything they own. There’s a rare handful of people who like the crown, and most of them are in the crown’s pocket.”
Steve sighed through his nose. He knew that the monarchy wasn’t popular, but it hadn’t occurred to him just how many people wanted to do something about it.
“So where do you come into play with all this?” Steve wondered.
“I tell stories, don’t I? Stories are dangerous. They put ideas into words and once an idea is there, it’s damn hard to get rid of. Let’s just say I told one too many stories about a world where there was no tyranny and it got me in trouble.”
Steve gritted his teeth. He knew his father was a piece of shit, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots from bad father to bad king. But he had no idea how horrible he was to earn his place in the world as a hated man. And how sickening it was that he would put an innocent man to death. For the crime of knowledge.
Steve flexed his hands and briefly considered his place in this black hearted court. “I’m sorry. How did you get arrested? Surely a mercenary-slash-librarian has plenty of places to hide. Why didn’t you?”
“Why do you assume that I didn’t hide? That I didn’t try to save myself?” Eddie shot Steve a curious look.
“You just,” Steve floundered under Eddie's pinning stare, “seemed so accepting of your death. I wanted to know why.”
Eddie took a long inhale. It was a long time before he said anything, to the point where Nancy glanced into the cell. But Eddie was still on the other side, at least physically. His eyes were glassy with anguish and memories.
“I’m the leader of Hellfire. Makes sense, since I’ve been in it the longest. Hellfire was the closest thing I have to family. I knew some of those people since I was just a kid on the side of the road.”
Steve swallowed. “Knew?”
Eddie’s eyes shifted from the far distant worlds and directly onto Steve’s soul. He felt like a butterfly trapped under needles, but he didn’t want to look away even if he could.
“The warrant was for my arrest. That’s what we thought, at least. Cut off the head and the body withers, right? When my guild heard the soldiers coming they shoved me under a hatch in the floorboards that led to a cellar.”
Eddie ran a hand through his hair. “I guess that taking me prisoner wasn’t enough. I heard them above me, slaughtering my entire guild. I could hear,” Eddie’s voice broke and he cleared it with a noise of frustration, “I heard some of them pick up a sword and try to fight back. Some of them begged for mercy. One of them tried to buy himself time by rambling about how he could get them information. It didn’t matter in the end.”
Eddie brought up his hands to his shirt sleeve. He pulled it up to the joint between shoulder and chest to reveal a yellowish purple bruise on his shoulder. Eddie sighed in halting tones. “I tried to break through the cellar and get to them but they’d locked it behind me. It wasn’t until the soldiers opened the hatch that I saw the damage. By then it was too late.”
Eddie had finished talking but Steve couldn’t stop hearing the ringing in his ears. The thought of people - especially innocent - dying at the hands of the King’s orders made him feel nauseous. Steve felt his stomach churning under his skin.
“I’m sorry,” Steve began, “If I knew-”
“You didn’t know,” Eddie growled and in some world those words would be comforting. Here it was not. “Your father slaughtered the closest thing to my brothers and sisters I had and you had no idea, did you? It’s so much easier just to pretend you’re above it all, to ignore it and act like you had nothing to do with it.”
Steve opened his mouth with the need to prove himself to this man. “I didn’t have anything to do with it!”
“That’s part of the problem, isn’t it?”
Steve was definitely nauseous. He could feel all the thoughts about how he didn’t want to be king resurfacing, coming to a boil in his head. The thought of dead men at his father’s hand and his own ignorance made him-
Steve stood and clutched his stomach, bile rising to his throat. Without another glance at Eddie - it hurt too much to see painful innocence - he ran out of the prisons.
He made it to his bedchambers, but as the world swam and his dinner rose up to his mouth he still felt achingly hollow.
Steve didn’t see Eddie for a few days after that. But as he went about his day, as he sat next to his father he thought about what Eddie said. Ideas. Stories. The itch in the back of his mind about Eddie hadn’t abated even after hearing what happened. If anything it was worse.
By the time he’d resolved to sneak into the prison and see Eddie again, he’d also resolved not to tell Nancy. As much as he loved her, it felt like Eddie’s reactions were more muted around someone he knew could skewer him in an instant.
Steve had known the head chef for years. She was a middle aged woman with smile lines around her cheeks but she ruled the kitchens with an iron fist. On days when Steve hated being prince - often - he would go down to the kitchens and she would always have bread that needed to be kneaded. He learned a lot about cooking through her guidance.
It was no trouble to ask the chef for food as the moon rose. She was used to him wanting a midnight snack, and though he took far more than a midnight snack she only told him to share some with Nancy if he was going to take so much.
Moonlight cast Eddie’s face in a dark shadow when Steve walked up to the prison. He looked up at Steve with curiosity written in those dark eyes of his.
“You’re back.”
“I hope that’s okay,” Steve sat tentatively. He pulled out another bundle of food this time laden with chicken, bread, an apple and a slice of the cherry pie from dinner. “I brought food. As a…what do they call it?”
“An olive branch?” Eddie straightened out and reached for the food, which Steve tossed to him.
“Yeah. That.” Steve watched Eddie take a bite into the apple and waited for him to finish eating before he said anything else. As Eddie ate, Steve couldn’t help but notice the shadows on his jaw with stubble, and the tired creases in his eyes.
“How old are you?” Steve wondered.
Eddie looked at him straight in the face. “20.”
“You’re my age,” Steve said before he could process the information, “I’m 19.”
“Isn’t it funny? Not even a year apart and yet we couldn’t last a week in each other’s worlds.”
Steve paused. “I’m sorry. About what the king did. What my father did.”
Eddie gazed at him for a long, long minute before he replied. “Me too. But I guess if you’re here, you’re not as bad as your father. You even brought me pie.”
Steve chuckled. Shook his head. “I guess I’m trying to make up for what’s happened to you. In some weird way.”
“Yeah, I was wondering about that. Why come visit some lowlife on death row? My fate has already been decided by the king. What do you get out of this?”
Steve didn’t think before he responded, which was usually a mistake. “You caught my interest at the trial. I’ve never heard someone call my father a piece of shit. It was kind of nice to see him get what he deserved. And after that I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Couldn’t stop thinking about me?” Eddie tilted his lips up into a wry grin, “Sounds like you’re in love with me.”
“Yeah, you wish,” Steve rolled his eyes.
“What a story that would be. A prince falls in love with a criminal. The stories would be ones for the ages.”
“What would that story look like?”
Eddie paused and gazed at the ceiling for a moment. “I don’t know. There are so few stories where a prince falls in love with someone about to die by his father’s hand. There are stories of princes who fall in love with princesses from warring countries. Stories about princes falling in love with their knight. There are lots of stories. I just have a hard time imagining one in this situation that doesn’t end in tears.”
“Well,” Steve shifted, “Tell me a story that doesn’t end in tears.”
Eddie smiled and crossed his shackled feet under him. He leaned forward and said, “There are lots of stories that don’t end in tears. Do you want to hear one about a dragon?”
Steve nodded. Eddie began.
“In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit…”
Steve was enraptured by Eddie’s storytelling, the way he gestured with his hands and was so animated. As if he’d actually lived the story. He told a story of dwarves and elves and trolls. A story about a powerful dragon who took what he wanted without regard for others. A story of how someone small, who didn’t feel like they had the power to do it all, took down the dragon. How evil was conquered not by massive armies and powerful men, but by a common person.
“That’s the story you tell, isn’t it? About not living under tyranny.”
“One of them, yes.”
“Why do you tell stories like that if they only brought you to this point?”
“Because if you only tell the stories the people in charge want you to tell, nothing good would happen,” Eddie said with a shrug. As if it was that simple. Maybe it was.
Steve heard a rustle from behind and realized that he’d been sitting on the stone floor listening to Eddie for hours. He rose, threw his hood over his head and with a promise to be back, left the dungeons.
“Get anything out of him?” The guard asked as Steve left the cells.
“No,” Steve lowered his voice an octave, “I thought maybe I could wait for a confession. I couldn’t.”
“Maybe next time,” the guard replied noncommittally.
Steve didn’t reply anymore than that. He just strode off and dreamed of a land like the one Eddie had described.
“How are you?” Steve asked as he passed over food to Eddie and realized he’d never asked the question before.
“Tired. Sore. Raw. Pick an adjective. I smell terrible, too.” Eddie peeled his shirt away from his skin and wrinkled his nose.
“Do the manacles hurt?”
“Yes, dumbass. They’re iron shackles designed to keep me from moving. Obviously they hurt.”
Steve went red in the face. “Well, I just thought I’d ask. No need to be sarcastic.”
“There is always a need to be sarcastic. And I’m the one on death row so I’m allowed to say whatever I want.”
Steve didn’t really have an argument for that. There wasn’t really a good response to the “I’m going to die and it’s your father’s fault” card. The idea that Steve needed to do something was growing, but it was hard to see a way out of either of their predicaments.
“If you wanted,” Steve began, “I could try and help you. I could arrange for a trip to the bathhouse. You would probably still keep the irons on but you might be able to wash up a bit?”
Eddie blinked and narrowed his eyes. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch. You’d probably have to leak some information about your accomplices, but you could make something up. What are they going to do? Kill you?”
Eddie laughed, clear and with a dimple on the side of his cheek. “Good point. But how are you going to manage that?”
“Well,” Steve huffed, “I’d like to think I have some sway as Prince.”
Eddie chuckled and Steve tucked the sound away in his heart to hear when he needed it.
When Steve came back the next day, Eddie looked in much better shape. His hair was clean and washed, curls bouncing when he tossed his head. His wrists were still raw and caked in blood, but at least most of the grime had come off the rest of his body. He smiled when Steve was within sight and Steve felt a smile of his own rise to his lips.
“You look good,” Steve sank to the floor, eyes roving over every inch of Eddie.
“Thank you,” Eddie replied, and if Steve couldn’t blame it on the pale light he’d blame the pink in Eddie’s cheeks on himself.
“Oh my God, you remembered,” Eddie said when he unrolled the bundle of food and found a piece of peach cobbler, “I told you it’s my favorite and you remembered.”
“I did,” Steve grinned. Steve felt for a brief second like he was floating off the praise and attention of Eddie before he fell to the ground in recognition that in a matter of days, Eddie wouldn’t be alive for Steve to remember things about him. “What did you tell the guards in order to get your reward?”
“I sent them on a wild goose chase on a hunt for someone who has the keys to a secret entrance in my library. It’s nonsense, but by the time they realize it, I’ll be dead.”
Steve looked at the floor and didn’t reply. He pushed the thought of a guillotined Eddie out of his mind. Or maybe he’d be burned alive. Steve grimaced and clenched his fists. There had to be a way out of it.
“Steve?” Eddie asked, “Can I ask you something?”
Steve lifted his head from where he was looking at the stone floor to Eddie’s eyes. Brown eyes singing with a soft light. “Yeah,” he said.
“Why are you here? Bringing me food, offering me a bath, talking to me. Acting like my friend. What are you getting out of this? Because it seems like I’m getting the royal treatment and you’re risking your reputation.”
Steve traced the line of a scratch carved into the stone floor. “Can I tell you a secret?”
Eddie didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”
“I never wanted to be prince,” Steve didn’t dare meet Eddie’s eyes for fear of what he would find, “Even when I was little and I got told how lucky I was to be prince. When I was a teenager I would sit at meetings about tensions at the border and establishing trade and communication and it just exhausted me to think about. I’m not a good prince. I can’t love all of the people in this kingdom. I can’t give them what they deserve. I can’t force myself to be interested in politics, in the affairs of the country.”
Steve heard Eddie shift, but he still couldn’t look at him. He’d only ever told Nancy this, and she replied with confidence that he’d grow into it, that he would be a good king.
“I won’t be a good king. I can’t rule this land. I can’t even be a terrible king, like my father. Who puts people to death because it’s the easy way out. I don’t want to be prince, and the thought of being king makes me feel sick. I’ve had everything handed to me, and I’m sure a lot of people would kill to have what I do. Maybe for good reason. But I never feel more trapped than when I sit in court.”
Finally, Steve met Eddie’s eyes and they rang with empathy. It spurred him on.
“When I saw you in court I felt like I’ve never seen someone more free. Even though you were cuffed and bound so you could barely move, you looked like you were your own person. I couldn’t walk away from that.”
Eddie reached out and hissed when he was met with harsh pullback from the chains. He lay out on the floor awkwardly, extending his hand as far as it could go. In response, Steve reached his hand through the bars and clasped Eddie’s. It was disjointed and they weren’t quite holding hands, but Steve could feel the warmth in his fingertips.
“Why don’t you leave?” Eddie wondered.
“Leave the palace? I’ve done it a couple times before. Go out through the servant's halls, avoid talking to anyone you meet. It just hurt more to go back inside the castle than anything else.”
“No,” Eddie shook his head, tightening his grip on Steve’s hand, “Leave being prince.”
“What?”
“Why not run away? Go to another kingdom and stop being a prince. You could be your own self.”
“I can’t just stop being prince. I would get hunted down by my own father. Besides, it’s my duty. To my kingdom.”
Eddie wrinkled his nose. “It sounds so awful. Duty. You’ve been fed all that ‘your duty’ bullshit since you were old enough to walk, huh? You don’t want to be a prince. I’m sure you’ve thought about what it would be like to be free. Why not just take it?”
“Just take it,” Steve rubbed a thumb along the side of Eddie’s hand without really thinking. He made eye contact with Eddie and found, for the first time, affection.
An idea began to take root in Steve’s mind.
“Excuse me?!” Nancy shrieked, and if sound created force Steve would be knocked to the ground. “You want to do what?!”
“Be quiet, Nance,” Steve waved his hands, “It’s not like my rooms are soundproof.”
“I’m sorry,” Nancy lowered her voice to a whisper but she still carried the harshness over, “I’m just a little hung up on the fact that you want to run away with a prisoner due to be executed for treason in less than a week!”
“What’s not to understand?”
“What’s not to understand?! What do you mean? I don’t think I’m being unreasonable in my confusion.”
“I don’t want Eddie to die. He’s innocent. He doesn’t deserve to die.”
“We don’t know that Eddie is innocent.”
“Why would he lie to me?” Steve furrowed his brow, “It’s like he said. He can’t gain anything from it.”
“This!” Nancy gestured to Steve, “This is what he gains from it. You risk your life and throw everything away for the sake of a criminal who might be innocent. He gets out of prison and there’s one less royal in the country.”
Steve set his jaw. “I believe he’s innocent.”
“And what if he’s not?”
Steve’s mind cast back to Eddie’s smile, soft and sweet. The way he’d contorted his body just to hold Steve’s hand in solidarity. “I’ll take that chance.”
Nancy stopped her pacing and looked at him with eyes that stripped him of his very bones. “Oh, Steve.”
“Shut up,” Steve scowled. “It’s not like that.”
Nancy sat on the sofa next to Steve. “It’s okay if it is.”
“But it’s not,” Steve felt heat in his cheeks and he suppressed it. “He’s my friend. I just want him to be safe.”
Nancy nodded after a second. “But how would you do it? How would you get him out of the castle? How would you get yourself out of the castle? Where would you even go?”
Steve bit his lip. “I need help. I was hoping you could offer it.”
“Steve, I-”
“You don’t have to. I won’t force you. If you refuse I’ll figure something out. I don’t want you to do it if you don’t want to.”
Nancy shook her head. “Can I think about it?”
Every day that passed was a day closer to fulfilling Eddie’s fate of dying in front of thousands. “I don’t think there’s time.”
There was a minute of silence, where Steve’s leg jittered and his heart pounded before Nancy leapt into his arms, nearly knocking him off the sofa.
“I’ll help you. But only because I love you. I want to see you happy, too.”
“Thank you,” Steve snaked his arms around Nancy’s waist, burying his face in her hair, “I’m sorry I asked you.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Nancy pulled away, rubbing her face, “I think I have some ideas, anyway.”
“Then let’s get started,” Steve murmured and with that, the plot had begun.
It should have taken Steve longer to pack everything. He should have had to deliberate for hours on what to part with and what to put in a pack that he would take with him.
It wasn’t. He grabbed his double sided axe off the walls as well as a sword crafted for his sixteenth birthday. He took a cloak that his mother had given him at the start of last winter, purple and warm. He grabbed plenty of food for rations. In the end the only thing he deliberated on was a ring that his father had given him to symbolize his inevitable rise to power. It was all he had of his father.
He left it on the dresser.
Nancy was waiting outside his bedchambers when Steve was ready, and offered companionship and sympathy in her eyes when Steve met them. Perhaps his leaving had caused him more grief than he realized.
Out of a satchel Nancy pulled a small bottle of blue liquid, almost purple in its richness. “This will drug the guard. With any luck, he won’t remember what happened in the minutes leading up to him being drugged and he’ll just think he fell asleep. I can only take you to the servant's halls. Once you get out into the castle city, Robin will be waiting for you.”
“You’re sure it’s alright that I stay with her for the night?” Steve twisted his mouth in debate. The last thing he wanted was to bring harm to Robin by incriminating her.
“It’s just for the night, as long as you leave before dawn the next morning it’ll be okay. I hope.”
“You hope?”
“It’ll have to be enough,” Nancy’s mouth was set in a determined grimace, “Let’s go.”
The pair of them walked to the dungeons. Steve put his hood up, but he was wearing a significantly better cloak than any other time he came and the guard raised his eyebrows.
“New cloak?” The guard asked but Nancy was already there, tilting his mouth up and forcing the liquid down his throat. She pinched his nose and there was a long minute where Steve had his axe ready, but then the guard swallowed and was slumping within seconds.
“Go,” Nancy tossed Steve the ring of keys, “I’ll keep watch.”
Steve raced down the halls, heart hammering as the reality of what he’d just done had occurred to him. He knew the path to Eddie’s cell by heart and was there in a matter of minutes.
“Steve?” Eddie looked up when Steve ran up to him. Steve was already looking through the ring of keys, trying to decide which one belonged to this cell. “What are you doing?”
Steve took half a second to meet Eddie’s eyes. “Taking your advice.”
It took him four tries to find the right key and he felt the wasted seconds of each of them. His hands were shaking as he slotted the key into the hole and opened the door, rushing to the shackles which were connected around Eddie’s ankles with a small keyhole. Steve fumbled with the keys for another minute, searching for a key small enough to work before he let out a noise of frustration and pulled his axe off his back.
“I’m just going to cut off the irons at the chains. We don’t have time to get it off you yet.”
“Look, Steve, as much as I appreciate you opening a door I can’t walk through, it would be really nice if I could get a little bit of an explanation. Just a little.”
Steve tucked the keys into his pocket and gripped the axe. The weight of it was familiar in his hands. He swung at the chains, the ringing echoing loudly around them. Steve flinched.
“I’m breaking you out. And then I’m breaking myself out. And after that, we’ll see if we’re not dead.”
Eddie opened his mouth but Steve was swinging the axe again. He thanked the weapon internally, grateful that it was forged by some of the strongest metals that money could buy. It took two more ear ringing hits, but the chains broke and Eddie lurched forward, falling to the floor. Steve swung the axe around and back onto his back. He bent down and slung an arm around Eddie’s waist, heaving him upright.
“I’m assuming you’re okay with not dying in four days,” Steve’s fingers tensed around Eddie when the man stumbled and fell into him.
“That would be nice,” Eddie grunted, “I’m having a little trouble walking though.”
The chains were still long and Steve could already hear their clanging as they dragged along the floor in his ears. He leaned Eddie against the walls and took each of the individual chains in his hands. With no other option, he wrapped them around Eddie’s legs and hoped they wouldn’t hurt him. When he stood, Eddie was panting softly.
“Are you alright? We have to go now. I would cut off the irons between your hand but it was dangerous enough to get the ones around your ankles undone and I don’t want to hurt you. Can you walk?”
“I think so,” Eddie pushed off the wall and took an unsteady step forward, “It’s been a while since I’ve had to stand though. I need a minute.”
“Just one,” Steve said. He grabbed another cloak out of his bag and swung it around Eddie’s shoulders. When Eddie nodded, they both stepped out of the prison cell.
It took a painfully long time for the two of them to reach Nancy. Eddie was out of shape and weak. Steve was itching to run, feeling the muscles under his skin tense with the urge to bolt. But he waited for Eddie and didn’t complain at the speed, even though it felt like he could hear the seconds ticking.
“What took you so long?” Nancy hissed. “We have to go!”
“Then let’s go!” Steve gestured for Nancy to take the lead and he and Eddie walked behind her. Now that they were out in the open - albeit disguised - Eddie’s limp felt significantly more pronounced and it was impossible to ignore the glamour of Steve's axe (He’d passed the sword to Eddie in the hope that even with his hands bound together he could make good use of it).
The interactions were few and far between, but Steve felt the lingering tension in all of them. Nancy took the lead and Steve breathed a sigh of relief and gratitude when they moved on from those in the halls.
Eventually they made it into the servant’s halls and to the entrance of a hall which, if used properly, would take them outside the city.
“Here’s where I leave you,” Nancy’s hands tightened. “Robin will be there waiting for you when you get to the city.”
Steve didn’t wait for a goodbye to pass through her lips before he crushed Nancy into a hug, squeezing all the air from her.
“You were amazing. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you find happiness out there.”
“I will.”
Once they ducked into the narrow passageways that the servants used to get in and out of the castle, the air felt thicker and heavier. Steve slung Eddie’s arm around his shoulder when he stumbled. It was almost a mile to the end of the tunnels and normally Steve could get through them quickly but with a limping and hurting Eddie at his side they were barely moving at a crawl.
“Excuse me?”
Steve whipped around to see a girl holding a large basket of clothes at least half her weight. He tugged his hood further down with his free hand and glanced at Eddie to see him doing the same.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be here.”
Steve felt like he was under a spotlight, rooted to one spot by a laundry girl. Eddie picked up the slack by lowering his voice and saying, “I sprained my ankle. I need medicine to get it and I can’t afford to take a day off. My friend is helping me get some so I don’t get in trouble for not working.”
The girl’s eyes softened in understanding. “Oh,” she breathed and the compassion and empathy in her tone made Steve wonder what kind of hell the servants were put through to be able to understand this language. The language of desperation and suffering.
The girl reached into a pouch at her side and pulled out a tin of salve that was easily half a day’s salary for her. She offered it without hesitation. “Take it.”
“I couldn’t,” Eddie said, “That looks expensive.”
“You need it, you might as well take it.” The girl wiggled the tin in front of the two of them and slowly, Steve reached out for it.
The girl was about to pass them and move on when Steve held out a hand. “Wait.” The girl turned, concern in her eyes, “What’s your name?”
The girl smiled. “My name is Heather.”
“Thank you, Heather.”
“You’re welcome. I hope your friend feels better.”
“Robin,” Steve greeted the girl waiting for them not far from the servant’s halls. “Good to see you again.”
Robin was a common enabler of Steve’s desire to get out of the castle. She didn’t work in the castle, but she lived nearby and had often given Steve a place to go to if he wanted out of the castle. She and Steve had talked about how fun it would be to be roommates, to do whatever they wanted with no consequences. Steve thought maybe in another world, he and Robin would have been best friends.
“Nice to see you too, dingus,” Robin went to the other side of Eddie and helped lift him up, “You really doing this?”
“Too late to turn back now, right?”
Robin chuckled and turned them down a street that led to her house. “And you brought a criminal with you?”
“I’m not just a ‘criminal,’” Eddie lifted his head and Steve could see a semi-delirious grin playing on his lips, “I committed treason.”
“Sounds like you and Steve will get along like a house on fire. First we gotta get you to my house.”
“Yeah, Steve neglected to tell me the rest of this hare-brained plan. Just shattered my irons like an absolute beast. Very sexy but not so much helpful in terms of escaping execution.”
“Well, I wanted to see if we made it this far. Wouldn’t want to get your hopes up.”
Eddie turned his eyes to Steve and even though the exhaustion of physical activity was clearly wearing on him, Steve couldn’t stop seeing Eddie’s eyes. “Aren’t you quite the Prince Charming?”
Steve scowled. “Shut up. You’re a idiot. Let’s get to Robin’s house.”
Eddie did shut up, but Robin chattered on as she always did. In the crowd of the city, with hoods on, nobody even blinked at the trio. Steve felt the waves of unknowing flow over his shoulders like relief.
Robin transferred Eddie’s weight to Steve and under his hand, Steve could feel the stutter of his lungs. Robin made to unlock her door and Steve bent down to whisper in Eddie’s ear.
“Are you okay?”
“Just dandy,” Eddie tilted his head and knocked it into Steve’s shoulder, “It would be nice to sleep on a bed, though.”
“I’ll see what I can do. First we need to get those shackles off. And you need a bath.”
“Are you saying I smell?”
“Yes,” Steve huffed a laugh, “It’s terrible.”
Robin practically dragged the pair of them into her house, muttering under her breath about something Steve couldn’t quite make out. Her house was small, with two bedrooms and a kitchen the size of a postage stamp in comparison to the kitchens Steve was used to. He loved her house.
“Set him down at the table, I’m going to get my lockpicks,” Robin walked towards her room while Steve heaved Eddie to the table. He set Eddie down with a grunt from both of them, one in pain and the other in exertion.
Robin emerged from her room with a handful of tools in a matter of seconds.
“Do I want to know why you have lockpicks?” Steve dragged a hand over his face.
“Not if you want them used,” Robin knelt and began fidgeting with the tools, her teeth gnawing at her lip. Steve stood nearby, too filled with fast fading adrenaline to relax.
It took a few minutes for Robin to get the manacles at Eddie’s ankles undone. When they finally fell away and Robin set them on the table, Steve hitched a breath at the sight.
They were ringed bloody and bruised purple. Eddie hissed in pain, maybe from the sight or perhaps just the feeling of cool air on raw skin. Steve took a step closer without thinking about it.
The irons on Eddie’s wrists were faster going. She broke them away in a matter of seconds and put them next to the others. His wrists were in even worse shape, maybe from the more constant use of them. Eddie whimpered as he tried to rotate his wrists.
“Don’t touch them,” Steve said rather redundantly as Eddie was already prodding at his wrists. A pained grunt was followed by a “No shit,” from the man. A drop of blood rolled off his wrists and onto the wooden floor.
“Go have a bath and try to wash that off,” Steve rested a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “I’ll help you take care of your…of the blood when you’re done cleaning it.”
Eddie tried to stand and almost collapsed, but Steve was there in a matter of milliseconds, supporting Eddie with a hand around his ribs.
“As much as I appreciate the feeling of your hands on my waist, I can get to the bathroom myself.”
“I’m at least getting you to the door. You look exhausted.”
“Why do you care if I’m exhausted?”
“Well, I’d like to have you a little rested before we flee the country,” Steve rolled his eyes, opening the door with his free hand and guiding Eddie inside. “Go bathe. Idiot.”
“Dumbass,” Eddie shot back but he was already pulling off his shirt with a grimace. Steve left before the feeling of intrusion could creep in over his skin.
Robin was gathering the shackles and stuffing them inside a random cabinet. “I’ll find a better place later,” she mumbled under her breath and with a sigh, Steve sank into the same chair Eddie was in moments ago.
“You, Steve Harrington, are an idiot,” Robin pulled out a pot and began boiling water.
“Yeah, Nancy said the same thing,” Steve rubbed a hand from his chin to the roots of his hair. The reality of him leaving the castle sank into Steve like a warm bath. He would never see his parents again. He would never wear that crown again. He would never have the same comfort again. He would never have the same restrictions again.
It felt weird, to have a bittersweet ache in his chest at the thought of leaving forever. It was already done. Too late to change anything. Steve had passed the point of no return the second Nancy had drugged the guard. The second he’d gone to see Eddie after the trial, really. Eddie had talked about his sealed fate of death in the prison, but in some ways it felt like Steve’s destiny was the sealed one. Maybe it was like one of Eddie’s stories. Bound to the end of the adventure before it even began.
Steve hadn’t realized how lost in his own thoughts he was until Robin set down a mug of tea in front of him.
“Drink. It’s for anxiety.”
“I’m not anxious,” Steve said, reaching for the tea. Robin raised an eyebrow with that quirk to her lips and Steve sighed and took a sip.
“I made some for Eddie when he’s done. Now,” she sat in the seat opposite Steve, “From what I understand Nancy is setting something up in the northeast?”
“She has contacts in the north she’s going to get in touch with. She said she’ll keep me updated via letters. Oh, do you have the supplies I need?”
“It’s in the other bedroom,” Robin nodded her head to the room behind Steve, “Two cots, a tent and some other supplies I thought you would need. You plan on paying me back, I hope?”
“Yeah, obviously. Here,” Steve stood and ran through his pack he’d dropped by the door. He pulled out a bag of coins and dropped a handful of them into Robin’s hand.
“Will you have enough money for yourself?” Robin sorted through the gold and silver.
“We should have enough to get where we need to go,” Steve waved a hand in response. Robin nodded and pocketed the coins.
“Alright. As much as I love your idiot ass, I have an early morning tomorrow and you need to wake up before dawn to get out of the city. I’m going to bed. You do whatever you need to do. Don’t have sex while I’m sleeping.”
Steve choked on thin air, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to suppress the very vivid thoughts of Robin’s suggestion. “Shut up. Shut up. Go to bed. I hate you.”
Robin giggled and ruffled his hair as she walked to her room, lockpicking tools in hand. Steve huffed and straightened out his hair.
As he waited for Eddie to come out of the bath, he perused the supplies both Robin had given him and the ones he had taken. He took the bulk of the supplies, including the tent, both cots and wood. There were clothes for Eddie in the other bag, and Steve left the bulk of their rations for Eddie to carry. If they could, they would get a pack mule to carry their stuff so they could move faster. For now, they would have to carry whatever they needed. Steve took most of it, aware that Eddie’s condition did not make for the best circumstances for travelling. Steve would carry the axe and sword, but he left the bow Robin had given to him for Eddie. Steve could shoot a bow, but he was no master. He could only hope that Eddie had stored away a mastery in archery before he’d been arrested.
“Steve?” Eddie’s voice shook Steve out of his head and there he was, with fresh clothes Steve had tossed into the bathroom at his request. His hair was wet, curls smoothing out under the weight of the bath. His wrists and ankles were still swollen and red, but at least they weren’t dripping with blood anymore.
“Hi,” Steve said, and it was only because he was tired that his voice came out soft. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore as hell.” Eddie inspected the wounds on his wrists, “These are a bitch.”
“I have bandages for that,” Steve rose and gestured for Eddie to take a seat. He dug supplies out of his pack and sank to his knees at Eddie’s feet. Steve took the salve that Heather had given him and used it over Eddie’s wrists, silently praying that she was okay. There was an odd feeling in his chest at the knowledge of a stranger’s kindness, as well as the fact that she would never know how important her actions were. He began wrapping Eddie’s ankle tenderly, because he didn’t know how bad the injury was. Painful, judging by Eddie’s occasional hisses of pain.
“So, do I finally get to know the plan?” Eddie said when Steve had finished with one foot. “Or am I just going to get dragged by his royal highness on a whim?”
Steve shook his head. “Nancy has friends in the northeast across the border of the kingdom,” he repeated the words he’d told Robin, “They can shelter us.”
“That’ll be good,” Eddie held his jaw in his hand. “There’s not much government presence there. If any at all.”
“It’s the best we can do. There’s a town about a month east of here,” Steve turned his attention to Eddie’s hands and there was a very small moment where he was transfixed by them before he was talking again, “That Nancy wants us to go to. She’ll send us a letter to update us and tell us where to go from there. As long as we keep a low profile, we should be okay.”
Eddie’s hand twitched as Steve finally moved to the last of the injuries. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m so sick of people asking me that. Yes, I’m sure. Yes, I want to leave. Yes, I want to do it with someone guilty of treason. Yes, I can handle it. Any other questions?”
Eddie chuckled and shook his head. “You are just full of surprises, Steve.”
It always gave Steve pause when Eddie addressed him by name. He liked the way Eddie said his name, like there were tomes of stories attached to it and all the same like it belonged to him. Like there was no other word for him other than Steve.
Eddie yawned and Steve dropped Eddie’s hand. “Let’s get you to bed. We have to be up early tomorrow so we can leave without drawing attention to ourselves.”
“How early is early?” Eddie stood and shook on his feet. When Steve reached out Eddie threw him a glare and took a step forward on his own.
“Way before dawn, if I can help it,” Steve guided Eddie to the spare room, prepared to catch him if he fell. Eddie groaned in annoyance and Steve smiled. “Don’t worry, you can sleep on a bed tonight.”
Eddie pushed open the door and gestured to the bed. Singular. “Where will you sleep?”
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Steve shrugged.
“You absolutely will not,” Eddie yawned again and Steve felt something in his chest swell at the growing tiredness in those brown eyes, “No way. I’m used to sleeping on a floor. You’re not.”
“Which is why,” Steve rested a hand on Eddie’s chest and pushed him gently towards the bed, “You deserve the bed. I can handle a night on the floor.”
“I…” Eddie blinked, slow and tired, “I’ll be fine on the floor.”
“So will I,” Steve murmured, and with another gentle push Eddie was sitting on the bed. “Rest, Eddie. You’ll need it.”
“So will you,” Eddie glared. Steve shook his head.
“I’m taking the floor and you’re too tired to properly argue anyway,” Steve took a blanket from the bed and draped it over Eddie’s shoulders. “Besides, I still need to go through our supplies and make sure we’re ready.”
Eddie yawned and with one last curse under his breath, he was already sinking into the pillows. His damp hair encircled his head in a mess of tangles. Steve allowed himself three seconds of staring before he shook the spiderwebs out of his head and went to clean up the last of the blood lingering by Robin’s table.