A/N: Same author as NoOne Escapes the NoWhere King
Summary: Elktaur and Pain are an Easy Pair. So please enjoy this
The Elk often awaited your visits. It was the only thing that made life bearable in these dark and awful days. A prisoner in the False Kings castle you knew the feeling of being trapped, of starving because your captors were unkind or because they forgot you were there. You knew what it meant to suffer and to stay kind despite your suffering.
Even after being freed you came back... you always came back to him. He wasn't sure why but if you were his gift for staying in this terrible place he would take it.
Your touch was soft today as you scratched his horns and carefully fed him with shaky and beaten hands. Knuckles scratched from fights and arms scarred from taking powerful blows. You smelled of sunlight and fresh air and wet grass, things he wishes he could share with you. As your hands tremored against his head your scratches sweet but shaky you tried not to show him how injured you were from a recent scuffle in the street but he knew, he always knew. Yet he stayed silent as you never liked speaking of your bad time in the streets or forest. You always focused on the good.
Occupant of NoWhere you called yourself. For you much like him you fit in NoWhere.
He liked the title. It made you seem more real. Honest. You deserved a place of your own more than anyone and yet you were content in your life. After all he had you, and you him.
You were a theif. Though not entirely by choice. An orphan of the kingdom with no viable skills and no way to get a real job you rotted away in the streets. However, despite your rough life you were smooth as a stone with a kind heart. You were intelligent and crafty though apparently not crafty enough. You got caught more than you'd like to admit.
Stealing just wasn't where your heart was.
It was because of your unofficial occupation you met so he couldn't fault you for your past decisions. You'd met in these cells and although you often tried to free him whenever you were here you could not so you did your best to make him as comfortable as you could visiting as often was possible. You brought him gray pillows that blended in with the stones for his knees, kind and gentle touches one would give to soothe an old friend, fresh food he never received from the guards, and hope. You brought him a hope he didn't have before.
You had a way with words. The way you explained things were simple and yet extraordinary. He could listen to your stories all day. You were a charmer in your own way, though shy to show off. And street smart, you were very street smart always planning out your day around where it was safest to be when you weren't in the cells with him. Where you could get a quick meal without being chased.
You spent a lot of time in Centaur world for their hospitality and your interest in magic but you didn't fit in there so you did a lot of back and forth between the world's trying to find a place for yourself, trying to make a name. You showed him some tricks you'd learned, and he watched. He enjoyed. You reminded him so much of his past love, of the woman who'd put him here. But you stayed.
You could leave him. You could move on with your life. And yet you never did.
You were his only true friend.
He remembers the first time he met you.
"The Kingdom wasn't like this before! The princess wouldn't agree with this! I didn't even get a summons! A court proceeding! Let me speak my case!" The Elk couldn't bring himself to look up as he heard distant voices but as they got closer he tilted his head in his cell. His chains creaked as the dimly lit torches flickered. He watched shadows danced across the floor as the yelling got louder and you slowly descended down the stairs with guards forcing you forwards. Getting thrown into a cell the person goes still curling in on themselves. Something is thrown inside with them, something hitting them but they don't move as the doors lock.
The guards laugh and you're left alone. He can see you curled up in a ball, your knees touching your head as you slowly just breathe and try not to cry. He wants to comfort you. Too say something but his throat is dry and he hasn't spoken in so long. Shifting to get closer, to see you better, his chains rattle loudly in the empty space and you pause jolting up.
He stops and all is silent.
"Who's there?" He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He lays down the chains shifting again. Your eyes lock on his cell and you seem to calm down realizing your not alone.
"What's your name?" You question curious. The Elk looked towards you his chains shifting as he pauses at your voice. It was curious... kind. Things he hadn't felt or heard in ages. You could not see him with the torches too dim on his side of the room but from his hunched and pinned angle he could barely make you out. Torch light flickered across your face as you stared out into the darkness.
He was enamored with you since day one.
He swallowed trying to speak again but his throat was beyond dry. When was the last time he spoke? The last time someone talked to him like a person and not a thing or a simple animal. The last time anyone thought anything of him?
"Did they give you anything interesting?" You try to make small talk, you must be as lonely as he is.
He swallowed again. He wanted to speak, to acknowledge you like you did him, but he couldn't. He hadn't in so long. Did he have a voice anymore? Does one keep their voice in this maddening darkness that is all quiet cept for the occasional drip of water? Would you to lose your voice? He hopes not... it's beautiful and it leaves his head spinning.
"They gave me cold soup." You continue on fiddling with something in front of you. The silver shine of a spoon catches his eye. He hears metal against another object before a sort of sloshing sound fills the space between them. It's the soup or slop he supposed since he can really only see your face in the terrible lighting. You wait for an answer and he makes a low noise in his throat. Swallowing again, harder he hums as loud as he can trying to make an audible sound. You smile in his direction catching it. He chuffs slightly shifting in the cage. He chuffs again making a soft sound and your smile catches in the light in a way he likes. You shake your head laughing and his heart thrums. When was the last time he heard laughter? It bounced around his skull and although it was louder, louder than anything he'd heard in some time he loved it. He wanted more. "Oh and a bruised apple they threw at my head. Stupid guards." Putting the soup down grabbing the Apple you turned back towards him. "Got anything to trade?" Moldy straw. That's all they fed him. That and slop. Just enough to keep him alive. Just enough to keep him in this misery.
He'd do anything for that Apple you mentioned. A fresh juicy one would be heaven but a bruised one was better than nothing. When was the last time he had fresh fruit? Fresh anything?
"Not the chatty type? That's okay." You said softly. Sticking your hand out of the bars you very carefully roll the fruit across you to him in his cell. He watches in shock and almost cries as it lands perfectly in front of him right through his bars.
"My name's (Y/N)." You greet before he hears a click and sees you begin to eat your soup. You make a face that makes him chuckle but you don't complain.
He stares at the apple you rolled and slowly he reaches his mouth out and takes a bite. Swallowing the juice drips down his chin. He licks it away desperate to not let any flavor escape and swallowing again his throat feels a bit better. Taking a deep breath he hums.
"... My… my name is Elk." His voice was hoarse. So very hoarse and quiet. When had he last used it? Not in a long time. Closing his eyes he couldn't remember and right now he didn't care. All he cared about was this little kindness and getting through this terrible time in his life.
"Nice to meet you Elk." Taking another bite his heart felt a little less heavy as he tilted his head to get a better look at you.
It was nice to meet you as well.
Red. He stared at the Red. It was warm. Thick. And it was all over his face. The first color other than gray and brown he'd seen in years. He hated this color.
He felt the tears come as he realized what had happened as he stared at your body, your bloody body twisted at an odd angle. Your mouth, forever stuck in a surprised look. Your eyes glassy. You were his only friend, his only comfort. And he was denied even this. You were taken from him. Bashed against the cold stone as if you were the criminal instead of the society that pushed you away and rejected you time and time again. That rejected him too.
Your shining eyes he so admired were dull. Your chest was still. And in your hands was... a slice of cake.
His fault. This was his fault.
"You... You killed them..." He murmurs voice shaking as he tries to remain composed. It's silent in the dungeons cept for the Generals harsh breathing and the soft dripping. Elk wished it was water. His other half stands on the stairs gripping them tightly as he looks down at the body. Looks down at the first of many murders he'll commit as his time as King.
"They couldn't be left alive." The General states. "Unless you want them to rot with you." He sneers. Elk gets up violently pulling at his chains. They rattle loudly filling the quiet space as his ragged and angry breaths sound like an animals. He wished he could tear the General apart. He wished you'd open your eyes. He wished for a lot of things.
Calming down he fell back to his knees on the cold cobblestone. Desire twisted in his gut. Desire for you to stay. Desire for you to wake up. Desire for you to be free.
"Leave them..." He barely whispers. He begs. You are his only friend, his only comfort in this place. He can't bear the thought of never seeing you again. Of going insane down here all alone without you.
But you deserve more. So much more. So when they take you away he remains silent simply watching. Refusing to blink until you're long gone. He could only watch as they carried off your bloody body to be buried somewhere. Red forever staining the cobblestone.
Closing his eyes after you're gone he shakes before feeling tears build up. Curling into himself as much as his restraints allowed they dripped down his face. He let out shaky breaths.
A copper smell filled the air but he tried to remember your smell instead. You always smelled of sunlight and fresh air and grass. He only hopes you're buried somewhere just as nice. Somewhere you'd described to him in your stories. By a glistening lake. A flower filled meadow. A beautiful forest.
"I'm sorry..." He whispers. And truly he was. For this was the curse of knowing him. Of being his friend.
