Chapter Text
The man who is no longer the Ice Emperor stands opposite the man who is no longer his royal advisor.
“They are discussing your punishment,” he says, his voice still alien to his own ears.
Vex’s head tilts up and the two lock eyes through the bars that separate them.
“Are they, now? And why are you not with them?”
“I… I requested a chance to speak with you — alone.”
Vex raises a brow.
“They trusted you to see me on your own?” he asks.
“They… seem to have convinced themselves that I am more likely to kill you myself than set you free,” the man — Zane, yes, that’s what he’s called now — admits.
“Hmm,” Vex hums, standing and approaching the bars. “Well, are you?”
Zane suddenly finds it increasingly difficult to maintain eye contact.
“I… do not know. I suppose I have every reason to, though if I do not, it is likely you will be executed anyway. Regardless, I’m meant to want you dead, aren’t I?” his voice cracks on the question.
His eyes once again meet Vex’s, and something twists in the pit of his gut when what he finds in those eyes is a soft, inquisitive look.
“What makes you think you’re meant to want me dead?” Vex asks, in that sweet tone that Zane struggles not to find comfort in.
Zane opens his mouth and tries to respond, tries to say that his mind was intruded upon, corrupted, that the man standing before him caused tens of thousands of deaths. But the words are lost in Vex’s gaze.
I –you– why…” he stutters, grasping desperately for a reason.
Vex reaches his hand through the bars to touch Zane’s face. As if against his own will, Zane leans into his palm.
“I should hate you, I’m supposed to hate you,” he whispers, eyes closed, hands gripping the bars.
“Why can’t I hate you?”
Vex’s thumb traces the seam of his cheek bone, expression soft with pity.
“Oh, Kori…” he mutters, and Zane sobs at the name, heavy with the memory of those rare moments of affection and intimacy, of vulnerability. A name that belonged to only them, spoken by the only voice he could trust, accompanied by lips on his neck, and hands in place of armor on his chest, his hips, his thighs.
“Kori, it’s alright. I understand. Even now, in this cell, impending execution hanging over me… I can’t bring myself to hate you, either,” he confesses. His hand now holds Zane’s chin, thumb caressing his quivering bottom lip.
Zane’s eyes open and he stares, searching Vex’s face for something to hate, but still he comes up empty. And when Vex leans in to close the distance between them, he fails to find any reason to protest.
Moments pass in tender silence, the shrieking in Zane’s mind begging him to stop, to see reason, but being completely ignored, pushed away by the lips and hands interlocking themselves with his own.
This is safety, this is comfort, this is home. His old life, his old friends… they don’t understand him, they only fear what he’s become. Who else but Vex would ever want to hold his cold, blood-stained hands?
‘Who was it who stained them? Who handed you the staff, who gave you the throne?’ asks a voice in the corner of his mind.
‘But who accepted those without question?’ comes the rebuttal. ‘You took the staff and the throne. You took all those lives. You were the Emperor.’
‘I… yes. I was. And he was my advisor.’
He can feel Vex smiling against his lips. First Master, all he wants is to stay here forever, keep that smile on Vex’s face. Keep him safe. The people in the palace are busy discussing a worthy punishment. If Zane leaves now, he will never see his best friend again. One way or another, this terrible, beautiful man will be taken away from him. And there’s nothing he can do about it.
Tears freezing on his cheeks, Zane forces himself to pull away, practically tearing his fingers from Vex’s.
“Kori…” Vex starts to protest, voice still just so damn soft.
“No,” Zane stops him. “I… I am not Kori,” he says, the words dirty in his mouth. He wants to believe them, he really does. But for the life of him, if he’s not Kori, he has no clue who else he could be.
Vex stares, his gaze still piercing Zane’s chest, but Zane tears his eyes away and turns his back.
“Kori, please, help me. Free me, you know you can,” Vex’s voice is raised, filled with an all-too-familiar emotion that nonetheless sounds so wrong coming from him. He’s afraid.
‘He can’t protect himself. That’s your job.’
It takes every ounce of will Zane has left to not turn around.
“I can’t — I won’t protect you anymore,” he tries to sound firm, but he knows his voice is wavering. He begins moving away, dragging his feet out of the dungeon.
Vex calls after him, threatening to pull him back like a riptide. All he can do is keep moving, or else get caught under the current.
The “I’m sorry” he wants to scream is left an inaudible whisper.