Female | 20 | Bisexual | Puerto Rican | Feminist | The Mom Friend™ | Fandom trash | Gamer | I can't art, I can't write, so all I do is shitpost and reblog. Talk to me about pokemon, Steven Universe, Fire Emblem, or anything really!
yknow i never understood why everyone was so horrified by melancholized zorba AFTER he made it clear he was delighted with the transformation. it was giving the "isn't there someone you forgot to ask?" where two people say "I consent!" and jesus says he doesn't.
the entire time i was like damn that's ugly but good for you, queen
I think Zorba being enthusiastic about it adds to the horror, not to the transformation itself but how willing he is to commit unspeakable horrors for Louis’ cause
The first request from the new king was a rather personal one.
It was to be somewhat expected. It was more of the nature of the request that bought a great deal of shock to his close friends.
"I wish to erect a grave for Louis."
Their surprise was warranted, as why would anybody in their right mind want to memorialize a tyrant?
Will had no desire to make a public spectacle of such. His argument was that Louis merely needed a final resting space so that his soul could, at long last, be at peace. Something about superstition and vengeful spirits, he added on. When his argument was presented as such, it did seem like sound advice after all.
Although a bit apprehensive, they agreed to fulfill his request, and opted to give Louis a small memorial in a long-neglected area of the courtyard. It was not an appealing sight before or after the landscaping, or lack thereof. Basilio and Hulkenberg simply did the bare minimum to clear out just enough space to raise the headstone. Strohl completely refused to participate in such labor, though it was a choice that Will respected nonetheless.
His reasoning behind desiring such a memorial wasn’t a complete lie. Louis did ultimately deserve to find peace after living with such a shattered soul for so long. The complete and true reasoning behind Will’s request was not something he could openly disclose to anyone, not even to his closest knight. It was a secret he would take to the grave, only to share with the one he desired to rest by most.
While fated to walk upon conflicting paths, their intimate meetings were few and far in between. Perhaps it was for the best, given the great imbalance of power present between the two. As ill-advised as it was, Will had allowed himself to be captivated by the smooth-talking and pleas of allegiance of Louis. And on the nights when rumors would fly lightly of the crossing of their paths, Will almost never failed to disappear without a trace.
Many have agreed that he was simply scouting out his sworn enemy, collecting intel and strengthening his plan of attack. However, what truly unfolded behind closed doors remained a close kept secret between Louis and Will.
Running off as per usual, Will spent the afternoon clearing away the weeds and overgrowth that had accumulated in the garden. It was a task better suited to those beneath him, but specifically asking for Louis's grave to be tended to would raise a number of questions. It was far easier for Will to tend to the weeds himself. This memorial in which he tended to served no other purpose other than to act as a mere pillar recording Louis’s existence. Not even a fragment of his skeleton or a chip of his armor was recovered in the aftermath, as the Prince sliced his body into stardust. One last reminder of Louis Will still had in his possession was his blade that he had recovered upon the star they fought upon.
Even against the Destroyer Charadrius, it felt all to cruel to turn his own blade against him. Now that Louis was nothing more than a fleeting memory, Will refused to raise it even against a stray human. He kept the blade by his side, and would claim that its purpose was simply a flashy trophy. In reality, it was all that he had left of Louis. As much as he wanted to keep the blade glued to his side, there was no sense of a king carrying a blade that would never see combat, so Will figured it was best to allow the final trace of Louis to truly rest in peace.
The grass throughout the courtyard was too far gone to be salvaged. With a shovel, Will dug up the dead flora leaving nothing other than barren dirt surrounding the headstone. Though nothing stuck out about the dirt patch alone, amongst the rest of the overgrown courtyard it ironically stood as an eye-catching oddity. Will would have to return later to clear out at least at least a little more so that his obvious favor towards Louis didn’t show through, but for now, it would have to do.
Wiping the sweat off of his face, he once more looked at the gray stone.
Louis Charadrius
Acclinis falsis animus meliora recusat
The count was far too obsessed with masquerading as a clemar of righteousness to pay any mind to his deteriorating sanity. And with as adamant as they were about their perception of a utopia, could Louis and Will have ever seen eye to eye in terms of how to rule a kingdom as a pair? Most likely not, as they were drawn to each other by far more twisted forces than shared possession of the crown. Will was aware that it was more than likely bad for him. But he still got the throne in the end. It couldn’t possibly have been that bad.
Will looked around for any signs of a stray passerby. The courtyard wasn’t going to be populated anyways, as most officials that haven’t been thrown out were drowning in meetings and paperwork in regards to the transition of the government. After reassuring himself that the coast was clear, Will sat down against the side of the stone.
What would he say to Louis if he were still here? Some sort of cruel apology for attempting to deceive him and ultimately put an end to his life? An invitation to serve beneath Will as a military general? Or rather, an offer to rule as a second king of Euchronia?
After fretting over his words for some time, he took a deep breath and stared off into the disheveled courtyard.
"It’s finally over," he said. "Your reign of terror over the people is nothing more than a page in the history book."
He spoke as if Louis could even hear him.
"Too many things I wish I could’ve said to you while I had the chance," he continued, "but it’s better late than never, I suppose. You do realize that our meetings were quite detrimental to the both of us, right?
"Actually, it’s probably something you have long since taken into account. I would be more surprised if you didn’t, actually.
"Despite such, you kept seeing me. Or rather, you allowed me to keep seeing you, despite the obvious taboo. No matter how much of a façade we put up for each other, in the end, it was a race to see who would be the first to bring the other’s final breath.
"Or maybe, trying to kill each other was the perfect disguise for what we really felt."
Will rested his palm against the side of the headstone.
"I never could understand you. Or perhaps, I never was meant to understand you. But that didn’t stop me from being drawn to you. I just wish that perhaps, if I had such capabilities sooner, then I could’ve changed our fate for the better. We could’ve shared the throne together. A portrait could’ve hung high and proud with the image of us both.
"But it was your delusion and my naivety to blame. It never would’ve worked out. But whether it was because of hope or foolishness, we still insisted on seeing each other anyways."
His hand slid off of the side of the headstone.
"Please say that the glimmer in your eyes whenever our gazes met wasn’t just a fragment of my imagination. Please say that I actually bought some kind of light into your life."
The dead speak no truths, nor can they utter a lie.
"...Please say that I didn’t betray you in the end. We both knew that it was going to come down to one or the other."
Will failed to notice the tears that were beginning to stream down his face. Subconsciously, he had been restraining his emotions this entire time, but his grip was quickly slipping. A king was normally rather hesitant to share even a shred of emotion to even his closest followers. Not even his lover would be likely to bear witness to such a display.
But Will was still young. Deep within and even on the surface, he still had a heart of gold, even towards someone he was supposed to hate, and everyone assumed he did without a second thought.
A futile lie it was for him to make himself believe that they truly hated each other. They could say it to each other’s faces all they wanted to, but it was never the case.
Both Louis and Will knew what the word "hate" was a stand-in for.
"There’s a lot you could’ve assumed from my actions alone. And I’ve said this before under the wraps of different words.
"...But, did you ever know that I loved you? Did I even bother to say I loved you? Or was I a damned fool this entire time?"
Will grabbed onto the handle of Louis’s sword, unsheathed it, jammed it into the ground, and used it to force himself to stand up.
"And like a damned fool, I never know when to let go. It’s cruelty. The last of you that I have, and I refuse to relinquish that curse from my body and allow you to find peace."
He walked around to face the front of the headstone, then plunged the sword into the ground with all of the might of his little body.
"But that ends now. I won’t keep the last of what remains of you for my own selfish desires."
His hands were shaking as they held onto the hilt of the blade.
"You deserve to sleep undisturbed, regardless of your actions or my love."
His grip gave out, and his hands slid down the edge of the blade, barely shielded by his gloves. Will collapsed onto one knee, and his hands dropped to the ground, causing his body to lean against the smooth back of the blade.
Legs too weak, eyes filled with tears, he held no control of the thoughts that came spilling out.
"Am I a failure of a king? I couldn’t save everyone. I especially couldn’t save you. Saying I deserved your loss for my mistakes would be selfish; it was I who deserved to die in your place.
"But it had to be one of us. There was simply no other way. If only you could’ve understood my vision. It’s better to unite the people than to force survival of the fittest. And it had to be the one thing we couldn’t see eye to eye on.
“Why did it have to be what pried us apart?"
Other than the wallowing cries of the king echoing throughout the courtyard, the air was filled with nothing but the silence of the dead.
