We're Burning (Frerard)

10. In A Nutshell, Robert Bryar Looks Like A Block of Albino Wood

„I hate my weaknesses, they made me who I am..." - Frank Iero, Joyriding

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Gerard was nervous, really fucking nervous - he was standing in the throne room, in the presence of the King, a man who he hated and hated him just the same. He hated how with both Bryar and the King, and all the human nobles who haf sticks up their asses in the room he felt so small.

Gerard hated how he felt so weak among them, but with the way the King was looking down at Bryar from his throne, bored out of his mind and annoyed that the man had defied his son, Gerard couldn't help the feeling of smugness. Even if it was smaller than the hair on his face which, was basically none existent.

It just felt so good to, for once, not be on the receiving side of the scolding, and to watch as someone who'd hurt him got scolded.

It felt so good that Gerard was almost bouncing off his feet with giddiness. Instead, as to not attract even more attention to himself, he was vibrating slightly against Ray. The older elf - Gerard wanted to cry with joy at his presence by his side - was standing next to him, hovering beside him like a guardian angel.

Despite Ray's presence beside him, Gerard still shifted uncomfortably, though. He couldn't help but feel uneasy with the human maids on every right and left, and his heart twisted in pain for the elves that cowered in the shadows. Their heads were bowed and their shackles were tucked behind their legs in a futile attempt to not attract attention.

It was working, sort of; mostly since the whole room was focused on Bryar, quietly gossiping. A few men sent dirty, questioning looks Gerard's way every few minutes, as if saying "how could a man risk his reputation for this slave?" It was quite unsettling, but Gerard had had worse.

"So?" The King asked, boredom engraved in his voice. "Got anything to say for yourself, Robert?"

Bryar's jaw clenched, and he glanced at Gerard and Frank through his squinting eyes, almost glaring. "Yes, my King," he said, and Gerard could physically hear him holding himself back from growling, the strain evident in his words and the way they twisted out of his mouth as though he wished to spit them at the King's feet.

"Well go on please, I don't intend on sitting here the whole day."

Gerard would've rolled his eyes, wasn't he as nervous as he was. The King perhaps didn't intend on sitting his ass on his throne the whole day, but wherever he'd go post this little gathering, his ass would find its way into sitting on some ridiculously soft cushion anyway, Gerard knew.

"Firstly, I hope you understand, my King, and you, my Prince that I have had no bad intentions," Bryar said, and Gerard saw the subtle skeptic expressions Frank and Ray sent him.

"It is true that I have... tried to take it to bed," Bryar started, quite a few people grimacing with his choice of words and Gerard flinching at being referred to as an "it". He could feel Ray tense beside him, and with his gaze to the floor, he could see his left hand clench into a fist, the other one gripping the hilt of his gun in a death grip.

Frank didn't budge, but Gerard saw the smallest twitch of his fingers, and he felt touched that it bothered them both that he was being degraded. Ray, that he could somewhat understand - he was an elf himself, and this was an act of hate towards elves, after all.

But Frank didn't need to feel guilt, nor anger or a need to defend Gerard, so he was truly grateful for him for that. Frank's care did still seem suspicious to Gerard; he supposed it was for he had never been treated so before, and he would have cowered away from Frank, if not for Ray's reassuring gaze.