odderancyart:

The Hanging Tree

Spicyhoney

Warnings: Mentions of mutilated body, mentions of execution (both of unnamed, unimportant character). Angst.

The wind travelled through the valley, whisking up dead leaves and tearing at bare branches where it went. The body hanging from the tree swung slowly, and the rope around his throat creaked. A shiver travelled up Rus’ spine as he pulled his cloak tighter around himself, pressing his back against the rough bark of the tree. It dug into his bones. Black clouds rolled over the sky above, not allowing a single beam of moonlight to slip through, and dark shadows filled the valley, making it impossible to see farther than a few meters.

As he breathed in the chilly air, his eyes flickered over the area, searching for any sign of movement. A twig broke, somewhere in the distance, and he twitched, twisting around its way. His breathing shallowed as he studied the area. Nothing. Probably just a rabbit, he told himself as he pressed himself even closer to the tree. Make yourself part of the tree, Edge had told him. Don’t get caught. A terrified laugh nearly escaped him at the memory, and he pressed a hand over his mouth to keep it from slipping out. Yeah, he knew. If someone saw him, that’d be the end of him.

Crows cawed above him, gathering on the branches of the tree, and on the body. A murderer. His body had been torn into pieces by the crows, and the mere memory of his face made nausea rise in him. Scavengers. He gasped as one of them flapped by his face, so close he could feel the draft from its dark wings. Their eyes seemed to glow in the dark, and his soul pounded faster.

Swallowing, he allowed himself to close his eyes for just a moment and relax back against the trunk. He attempted to pretend he was back in his cottage, with the warm fire and the quilts Blue had made when they were children, but the ruthless wind tore at his cloak, tearing the image of warmth and safety from him. One of his hand travelled up to the pendant around his neck. It was a moonstone, and the chain was solid silver. A gift, obviously. Nothing a simple farmer could afford in a single lifetime.

Clenching the pendant in his hand, he exhaled, slowly. His soul slowed somewhat, and he could feel warmth return to his body, like magic. The smallest smile played on his face before the weight of a warm hand suddenly appeared on his shoulder, and he yelped, twisting around, his soul in his throat. Another hand caught the arm he threw up in surprise.

Edge pulled down the hood of his black cloak from his face with his other hand, staring at him with disapproval. “Rus, be more careful. It was a child’s play to sneak upon you.”

Sinking into the other’s arms, Rus’ breath hitched as the adrenaline rushed out of his body. Warm arms embraced him, holding him tight against Edge’s chest. Some of the tension drained out of him, and he closed his eyes as he breathed in Edge’s scent. It was such a weird combination, of pine and fancy perfumes and horse and soap, and it was unique for him.

“Rus, love,” Edge began, but Rus straightened to lean down and kiss him, and Edge reciprocated softly. A lump formed in Rus’ throat as he watched the other through half-lidded eyes. So beautiful. After a few seconds, Edge gently escapes his grasp, catching his hands between his. “We have no time.”

A gentle kiss, pressed against his cheek. Rus’ soul rushed as Edge leaned backwards, and the royal spymaster smiled at him. What just happened? “I’m sorry,” Edge breathed, catching one of Rus’ hands in his own. “I understand if you’re not interested, I won’t hold it against you, I swear.”

The royal spymaster, His Majesty’s most trusted, had admitted he loved him. He blinked, and a smile blossomed on his face as he squeezed Edge’s hand back. Without a moment of hesitation, he leaned forward and pressed their teeth together. Edge made a muffled noise of surprise, but soon, his hands pressed against the back of his head, pressing him closer, and Rus smiled into the kiss.

“I know,” he whispered. Edge released one of his hand, but leaves the other intertwined with his fingers, pressing it against his chest. He can faintly feel Edge’s soul pulse through his ribcage, and the layers of fine clothing. Edge was clothed entirely in dark colours, and almost impossible to make out among the rolling shadows. A perfect spy.

Edge’s gaze travelled over his face, his soft, ruby red eyelights mournful as he took in every detail of Rus’ face. Rus did the same with him, from the edges of his smile to the scars running over his eye socket. Then Edge’s eyes fell on the pendant. “Keep it close, no matter what,” he murmured, red tears welling up in his eyes. “Promise me.”

“Here, for you.” Rus stared at his lover, wide-eyed, before his gaze travelled over to the pendant hanging from his hand, gleaming in the sunshine outside of his cottage. A stone that shimmered in pastels, enclosed in silver. His breath hitched in his throat as he turned back to Edge’s face.

“Are you insane? Why would you-” he cut himself off, unsure how to say it. Why would you give something so precious to someone like me?

“Because you’re worth a thousand times more.” Edge’s voice was soft as he held it up, looking at him with a question written on his face. May I? Heat rushed into Rus’ cheeks as he nodded mutely, and Edge lifted the chain around his head until the pendant rested safely over his chest. He smiled as he leaned down to kiss Rus. “Perfect,” he breathed just before their teeth met. “You’re so perfect.”

“I promise.” They were sobs rather than real words, but Edge nodded, obviously relieved. “Come with me.” His voice was strangled, but he stared at Edge as tears gathered in his sockets, turning his view blurry.

Edge shook his head, squeezing Stretch’s hand so tight it hurt, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want the other to let go. “I can’t.” I’m sorry.

“I know. It’s okay.” It wasn’t. It really, really wasn’t, but Rus knew why the other had to stay.

“Rus Serif, you are arrested for housing rebels.”

Fear flashed through Rus as he stared at the red-haired guard captain while she gestured for her soldiers to search his home, and as another grasped his arms, chaining them behind his back. He hissed in pain as they kicked him, so his knees buckled, and he hit the gravel of the road.

“Nothing,” a guard yelled from inside his cottage. “Only some letters. They’ve already left.” At least Blue got away.

The captain swore, but Rus only had eyes for the skeleton clad in a dark cloak, sitting on a horse black as coal behind her, staring down at him in helpless sorrow.

Leaving wouldn’t only mean betraying his king more than he already had by helping him escape, but also leaving his entire life behind: his brother, his friends, everything. And he would have, Rus knew. Edge would’ve been willing to do that, hadn’t the nation been in war. Rebels against the monarchy. Chaos. Hadn’t Edge fully believed that the Resistance stood no chance, and that he needed to stay. Rus smiled shakily at him and kissed him again.

The dungeon was dark. Water dripped from the ceiling, and a rat rushed over his feet, hurrying toward the pieces of bread strewn over the floor after he ate. Rus shivered violently, his teeth clattering against each other, and he hugged himself in a desperate search for warmth. Everything was so quiet. Even the guards had left.

But suddenly footsteps echoed through the tunnels, and he looked up as a familiar shape appeared before the iron bars. A key clinked inside a lock, and the door slid open. Edge threw him a spy cloak without looking at him. “Get to the hanging tree, and I’ll meet you there at midnight tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

Before Rus could say a word, he disappeared into the shadows once more.

“You have to go.” Even as Edge spoke, he pressed him against his chest again, nuzzling his shoulder. Rus hid his face in his cloak as his body shook with sobs. Even the sound of the crows disappeared as Edge held him tight without letting go, and Rus clung to him like a lifeline, grasping onto his clothing without caring if he destroyed the fine silks.

“I know,” he whispered again, without moving.

But in the end, as a rain drop hit the top of his head, they had no other choice but to part. Rus’ body still tingled with warmth from the other’s touch as he stared at the other, and Edge met his gaze, eating him up. “There is a horse waiting for you at The Hungry Robin. Its owners are trustworthy. Go to Elynora, the city west of the capital, and find the goldsmith. She’ll help you from there. Stay safe.”

Nodding, Rus raised an arm to wipe away the tears dripping down his cheek, leaving trails of salt behind. Averting his eyes, he made a move to turn and leave, but Edge seized his wrist. Before he could do more than open his mouth to ask why, he was pulled against the other’s chest again, and Edge pressed their teeth together in a desperate kiss. Rus threw his arms around his shoulders, clinging onto him as Edge’s tongue explored his mouth for the last time. More tears escaped him, and as they eventually parted, their hands lingering, he saw that also Edge was crying.

“Go. Now,” Edge ordered. His voice shook as he pointed to the north, the direction of the tavern he’d mentioned. Rus knew where it was. Then, quieter: “I love you.”

A mix of a laugh and a sob escaped Rus. What a cruel time to say it for the first time. “I love you too,” he replied as he turned around, pulling his hood over his head. His voice was steady.

When he looked back, Edge was gone.

T-T This was beautifully written. My poor boys.