Chapter Text
It was a suicide mission. Virgil knew this. Virgil also knew that he didn’t have a choice. Attempting to assassinate the King of the neighboring kingdom yours was currently in a war with wasn’t exactly childsplay. He would be heavily guarded and even if Virgil was able to finish the job, there would be no way he would be getting away alive. His captain had given him use of a single long-bladed knife, informing Virgil that if he were to kill the King any other way, he would be punished. Additionally, Virgil was not allowed to return until all three of King Thomas’s heirs were also dealt with. It was impossible. It was impossible on purpose. But it didn’t matter, as long as Virgil could serve his country one last time.
Somewhere, buried deep in Virgil’s mind, he knew he could, should even , run. But a larger part of him knew there was no point. He was dead either way, might as well do what he could to finish the job. His loyalty ran deeper than his fear, and Virgil was ruled by his fear. Besides, it’s not like he had anything to live for anymore.
So, Virgil carefully followed the directions he had been given to the King’s bedroom. It was summer, so the door to the terrace was opened slightly. It was foolish. It also gave Virgil a perfect opening. So, he scaled the building to the window, peeking in from above in an attempt to find the King. It was easy, he was sitting on the bed, documents laid before him. Even better; perhaps if Virgil presented his own King with important affairs from the neighboring country he could be spared from punishment for abandoning the heirs. It was foolish to hope, Virgil knew, but he could already feel it taking residence in his heart. Quickly and silently, Virgil tumbled to the ground on the terrace, before moving through the small opening and to the bed. Before the man even had a moment to breathe in and scream, Virgil’s hand was across his mouth and the knife against his throat.
Instead of the King, however, Virgil met eyes with a boy around his age. And then, Virgil did something insane; he hesitated. It was probable that this was one of the heirs seeing as this was the royal wing. And, even if it wasn’t, he was still a witness. He should not be left alive. But suddenly his face had morphed into one of Virgil’s peers, the one who Virgil had begged to stop hitting him because Virgil couldn’t fight back, the one who had suddenly had a knife, whose head was in Virgil’s hands and then– snap.
“Sloppy,” his teacher had hissed, walking away disappointedly.
Stop it, Virgil scolded himself, trying to remember where he was. It was then he realized he couldn’t move. Belatedly, he realized it wasn’t of his own accord. The scent of magic burned in the air, binding Virgil’s body together and preventing him from moving. The boy below him slowly took the knife from Virgil’s hand, and backed away from the bed, dropping the knife on the floor. This is it, Virgil realized, he was dead, all because he got distracted in memories, all because he was weak. Slowly, the magic seeped through Virgil’s bones as he felt the commands take place. The magic didn’t prevent him from crying, Virgil learned. His hands moved to his sides as he slowly turned to face who he assumed to be his executioners.
Instead, he saw the first boy standing next to another who had snake Scales decorating half of his face. He was clearly the one in charge of the spell, as he reeked with magic. When the two made eye contact, the magical one’s face quickly turned to shock, “You’re Fae?” he muttered in confusion,
Was he talking about Virgil? Virgil was human. But who else– Virgil struggled against the magical bonds as he shifted his focus. It didn’t matter what bullshit the magical one was spewing, Virgil couldn’t be distracted. So, Virgil took upon the familiar task of feeling around in his mind for the confines of the orders. They were quite simple at least; Stop, turn and face me, do not hurt us, do not run . The last one was too vague and would most definitely prevent Virgil from killing the King should he manage to get out… Somehow.
“Hey!” the magical one snapped, “Look at me,” Virgil head snapped upwards at the order, meeting eyes with the other, “Look at his eyes,” he whispered to the other two, “I don’t know how he’s hiding it, but he’s Fae through and through,”
Well, the orders didn’t say anything about not talking, “I’m not a fucking Faerie,” Virgil hissed.
The others looked shocked at his exclamation, the scaled one being the first to regain his footing, “I hate to break it to you, Darling, but you most certainly are. I should know,”
“I am not like you,” Virgil seethed. Virgil had heard enough horror stories about the Faerys. He did not need to be compared to one.
“But how could he… not know?” the red headed one (light skinned and heavily freckled, between 13 and 15, about 5’4, required glasses) whispered.
Virgil snarled at the statement, bearing his teeth to the smallest one, who, to Virgil’s satisfaction, let out a startled squeak.
The one Virgil had nearly stabbed (around 5 '8, dark skinned, with dark box braids reaching his back, between 15 & 17, identical glasses to red head) scoffed, “Are we forgetting he tried to kill me? I don’t understand why we’re bothering with semantics.”
Virgil didn’t understand either, really.
The Faerie shook his head, “Think, your Highness. What have we been hearing about Ladri for decades,”
“That they steal changelings to train as soldiers,” One of the Princes, apparently, muttered.
Virgil looked away as the Faerie looked over to him, the look in his eyes too intense, “and that they have complete control over them because they own their names,” the Fae finished.
Freckles gasped, “That’s horrible,”
“You think…” Braids started, looking between Virgil and the Faerie.
“Why else would they send someone so… young?” The Fae asked. It was silent for a few moments as everyone thought about the question. Eventually, Scales sighed, “I have some questions, you might as well sit down,” Virgil involuntarily fell to the floor.
“What are your commands,” Scales questioned, and Virgil felt the magic wrap around him, stronger.
“Fuck you,” is what Virgil attempted to say, instead, in as best of an impression of his commander he could do, Virgil rattled off, “You are to enter the kingdom of Luse and kill King Thomas Sanders the first. You will use this blade,” Virgil’s head involuntarily jerked to the knife that was now on the floor, “And nothing else. Using any other devices such as poison or gaining any outside assistance will be considered failure. After termination of the King, you are to kill all four of his heirs with the same blade. You will not step foot in Ladri until you have done so. You will not contact anyone in Ladri until you have done so. Understood?” Virgil felt the moment the tie had been severed and slumped over, beginning to hyperventilate, “What the fuck, ” he growled at Scales, “Did you just do to me?”
Instead of looking at Virgil, The Faery looked over to Braids, “If he were human he would not have taken to the order like that. The magic would have still compelled him, yes, but he would have paraphrased, summarized. Instead, his commands were issued using a binding spell, most likely because whoever gave the orders has his name,”
“Fascinating,” braids murmured, looking at Virgil.
Freckles huffed, “You two are so rude,” he stalked over to where Virgil was sitting and Virgil flinched away, preparing to be a hit.
Instead, the boy crouched down in front of Virgil slowly, “Hey,” he said softly, and Virgil’s eyes snapped to his, “I’m really sorry about them, talking about you like you’re not here,” Virgil didn’t move. Why was he being nice ? “Hey kiddo, could you breathe with me?”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Virgil hissed, eyes darting between all three of them, “Why am I not dead yet?”
Freckle’s eyes went wide, “Wha– dead ?”
“You have learned that I came here with intent to kill the King and cannot leave until I do so. Not executing me for his attempted assination would simply be foolish,”
Freckle’s blinked, “But… you’re just a kid. And it’s not like you actually did it. Do you really think you would be executed?”
Virgil narrowed his eyes, “What do you think?” he snarled. It did nothing to help stop his heart from racing, or prevent his body from trembling.
“Unlike Ladri,” Scales spoke up, “we do not murder children.”
“So what? You’re gonna imprison me for the rest of my life while acting like you’re so much better than us?” Virgil hissed.
The Prince raised an eyebrow, “You seem to be making a lot of presumptions about how our kingdom handles situations like this.”
“I literally just tried to murder you,” Virgil seethed, getting more and more ( anxious ) frustrated. How could they not see the bigger picture here?
“You hesitated,” Braids pointed out, “last time I checked, actual trained assassins don’t hesitate,”
So now they were questioning the validity of his experience? Were they just idiots? “Give me the chance to try again and we’ll see how it goes,” Virgil huffed, mouth turning up in a smirk.
Much to Virgil’s annoyance, the Prince didn’t seem disturbed, “Why are you trying to convince us you’re more dangerous than you are?” Braids wondered out loud, staring at Virgil like one would an experiment.
“You’re so little,” Freckles whispered sadly, “who would have possibly sent you to do such a horrible thing?”
“I am not little ,” Virgil growled, “Unlike you castle folk, not all of us are able to be innocent in this war,”
“Oh,” Scales suddenly drawled loudly, causing everyone’s eyes to turn to him, “I see,”
“Care to share with the class?” huffed Braids.
“He wants us to execute him,” The Faery said slowly.
Freckles looked over at Virgil, his eyes wide, “Wh– But, why would– why!”
“The command. He cannot return to his homeland until he kills the King and all of his heirs. He has failed. Which means–”
Freckles gasped into his hands, horrified, “He’s stuck here . Forever,”
Virgil bit his lip hard in an effort not to cry more. It didn’t really work.
“Oh. Oh, dear,” Braids murmured.
“You poor thing!” Freckles exclaimed.
Virgil couldn’t stand this. He focused on the orders again. Stop, turn and face me, do not hurt us, do not run . Do not hurt us reasonably meant the three other boys in the room. This meant Virgil was excluded from this order. So, before he could second guess it, Virgil lunged to grab the knife, holding it up to his own throat to use.
“ STOP ,” The Faery exclaimed just as the blade touched skin, magic seeping out of the words.
Virgil sobbed, trying to fight against it, but his arms remained locked in place, “No!” he screamed.
“Slowly drop the knife to the ground and slide it over to me,” the fae commanded, “do not use it to harm yourself,” Virgil watched in horror as his body complied, surrendering his only escape to the enemy. “Here is what’s going to happen,” he continued, picking up the knife, “We will ask questions, and you will answer honestly. Understood?”
“Yes,” Virgil hissed.
“Excellent,” The faery dropped the knife on the desk, “Do you have anything else you could use to harm yourself?”
“No,” Virgil murmured, annoyed at the reminder.
The Faery raised an eyebrow, “Not even nightlock pills?” He asked, knowing they were common among Ladri soldiers.
“I already said no!” Virgil spat, trying to hide the anxiety building in his chest. What did these idiots want ?
“Why not? Surely your superiors would have wanted a backup plan in place in case you got caught?”
“I can only speculate,” Virgil muttered through gritted teeth.
“Then in your opinion , why were you not given nightlock capsules?”
“I’m not important enough,” Virgil said without his permission, “It would be a waste of precious resources.”
Braids stepped closer to Virgil, “You’re not important enough for nightlock capsules and yet were sent to kill the King and all of his children?” he questioned, eyebrows raised.
“Yes,” Virgil muttered, carefully avoiding eye contact.
“They wanted you to fail, didn’t they?” Freckles said softly, making Virgil look up in surprise.
Braids looked back and forth between the two of them. “What makes you say that?” he asked.
“I mean, look at him.” Virgil huddled further into himself, “He’s small, and way too skinny, and he looks so… young.”
“How old are you?” The Faery asked.
“Fourteen,” Virgil answered.
Freckles gasped, “See! There’s no way he was ever going to succeed,”
Virgil growled, “I passed all my tests with perfect scores. I’m perfectly capable of following orders,”
“And yet,” Scales drawled, examining his nails like he was bored, “You hesitated,”
“Just tell me what you want from me!” Virgil hissed, rapidly blinking back the tears in his eyes, “Enough of these mind games,”
The three looked at eachother but froze when there was a knock on the door. Virgil felt the blood drain from his face; this was it, they would hand him over and he would be tortured, and executed, and oh god Virgil couldn’t breathe.
“ Do not say a word or do anything that might otherwise draw attention to you, ” Scales hissed quietly, before Freckles grabbed Virgil by the arm and ushered him to the other side of the bedroom, sitting him down by the side of the bed. From the door, they wouldn’t be in view.
With one last glance at Virgil, the Prince opened the door, the Faery at his side, “Ah,” he said, adjusting his glasses, “Emile, what can I do for you?”
“Apologies for the intrusion, your Highness,” Emile replied. Virgil heard fabric rustling and assumed the man on the other end of the door was bowing, “I have been sent to inform you that your brothers have left for the north,”
“What?” Braids asked. Virgil could hear the tiniest bit of distress in his voice, “What happened?”
“There’s been an attack,” Emile said solemnly. Virgil got the idea it wasn’t a tone that man often used, “Dragons tore through multiple villages. We don’t yet have a death toll,”
“Ladri?” Braids asked.
“Almost certainly,” Emile muttered, “We have eye witness accounts that there were riders on the dragons,”
Scales cursed. “They have left already?” Braids asked.
“I’m afraid so. His Majesty decided it would be best if he stayed here and the two volunteered instantly,”
“Of course they did,” Braids muttered, “Thank you for informing me, Emile,”
“Of course. I’m sorry I could not get here earlier,”
“I understand,” Braids swallowed, “Have a good night,”
The door shut. Footsteps descended down the hall. Freckles pulled Virgil away from their hiding spot and split off to go hug braids. “Lo,” he whispered, “I’m sorry. They’ll be okay,”
Braids pulled away from the hug, frowning, “I know. They might be idiots,” he muttered, “But they’re strong idiots,”
Virgil couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding. Apparently, Scales agreed. “Indeed,” he said to the other two, but his eyes remained on Virgil. After a moment of silence he narrowed his eyes, “Did you know about this?”
“No,” Virgil muttered, still unable to lie to the three.
“A distraction, then,” Braids murmured, looking at Virgil like he was seeing him for the first time, “To split my Father’s attention,”
“They really sent you here to be killed , just for a distraction?” Freckles asked, looking genuinely distraught.
Virgil blinked. They had, hadn’t they?
“Why you?” Braids asked.
Virgil hunched over, defeat kicking in, “This was a punishment,” he whispered. He knew that much, at least.
“For what ?” Freckles exclaimed, confusion flashing across his face, “What could possibly constitute this as a punishment,”
Virgil blinked. And then blinked again. And again, frantically trying to think. It didn’t work. Slowly, he looked up at the three, eyes filled with terror, “I don’t know,” he whispered shakily, “I can’t remember.”