The first cause of discord is difference.
book starters | accepting.
They’d been listening to battle plans, war strategies, deliberate pushes from the enemy. Mercer quietly samples the hot, BITTER tea, how he likes it best. “Isn’t that how wars always start and continue?” he states quietly, head canted like an interested animal, setting down the tome he had in his grasp ( keeping busy was ABSOLUTELY necessary at all times for a restless mind, even forgoing sleep that wouldn’t come ). The mere thought of DISCORD brings unbidden memories back, moments barefoot, with feet in mud thickened by the COAGULATION of blood. He can’t remember where he started, no origin, so many years of aggressive pacing in captivity before freedom into Nohr’s grasp ( a living CHIMERA with such taint is a weapon to be forced into someone else’s will; but not here ).
Alex is suddenly reminded how FRAGILE humans are and eyes linger on the sleek shine of a scar on Niles’ collarbone, receding into the velvety blue cloak, blue he loves so much ( so much that he could join the stars in their LIMITLESS beauty and bright splendour, no matter the shade; prussian, midnight, cobalt, ultramarie ). The same as his eyes, the same sheen of silver in his damp hair when Mercer held him STEADFAST in the river to clean his wounds on that awful day. He almost lost him. Almost. He could lose him again without telling him. It would leave a sore in his chest on SEEPING, VILE cracks in a false, mallory heart he wove. “We aren’t that different us,” Alex continues, calloused fingertips tracing worn leather. Niles and him had a lot in common, including the crippling fear of ABANDONMENT and REJECTION, as well as the self loathing. Alex pushed people away, if there was no one who favored him, there was no chance of getting hurt. He acted defensively, making sure other saw him as destructive, dangerous, and foul, just as the archer did. Men who had seen too much.
He didn’t bother praying to GODS for anyone to protect people he held dear, because gods were useless, they didn’t exist. If they did, people like Niles and Alex would never have had to SUFFER. Things would have been better ( they wouldn’t have become so damaged ). Alex would have been human and his mind would have been at peace, he wouldn’t have to hide under so many cloaks and hoods. Niles would have had a better upbringing and a real family, an unscarred body. But they wouldn’t have known each other had any KISMET been altered.
The book makes a soft thump as it rests on polished wood and beastly monster made man leans closer to Niles. “Petty wars are stupid,” he hisses softly. “Those little differences tear people apart and cause so much LOSS. I don’t forget what they did to you that day and I will ensure that nothing will get past me to you in order to continue PROTECTING Prince Leo.” But pale hand comes to trace that scar from earlier. Fierce pupils constricting, focusing there, icy blue drowning out the pitch black. “But especially you, Niles.”
He’s mere inches from the other’s face, “ I’m going to kiss you.” Blunt as ever.