Red Queen Oneshots

Escape

  It couldn't compare to the ache in Maven's chest. Nothing could. Any pain he had felt dulled in comparison to the gut wrenching agony behind his ribs.

'it's fitting- for someone like us.'  Said the voice in his head that has become all to familiar. Her voice. His mother's voice.

'we deserve this loneliness. you deserve this loneliness.'

  Was she wrong? He knew of the acts he committed. Of the lives he affected. He couldn't take any of his actions back.

  But he wouldn't even if he could.

  Of course he knew that some of his actions were wrong, based on how others flinched at his raised voice, and how a room would fall silent after something upsetting had been said to him. Others had grown to fear him because of what he had done. But,, he saw no flaws in his actions.

  Right and wrong had become a useless formality long ago, trumped by what he needed to do to reach his goal.

To him,, he was doing what he needed to survive. He wasn't a villain- just a boy, fighting against his brother, his mother, and the women he loved.

'I deserve this.'

The voices had said it so much that he had begun to believe it- no... to accept it. He had taken too many innocent lives. His debt was catching up.

The soft bedding he had been lying on suddenly felt like rock beneath him. Sighing, he left his room.

He had begun to aimlessly wander Whitefire. 

The halls were also lonely.

Hardly any servants were awake at this hour, and any that saw him ducked their head as they scurried by.

No smiles, no nods, no interaction.

Of course, that is what a sane person would do when they faced the sadistic prince. Look at the floor, do not speak unless spoken too, get out of his presence as quickly as you can.

Maven hated every second of it. Had he really done this to himself? Treated the ones around him so badly, that even a servant who he had never met, feared to see his face?

His mother had always spoken of the success that comes with power. But she had never mentioned the sadness.

He wanted affection- he needed it. Even just a small smile and kind words. Some indication that he wasn't as bad as other thought. That he wasn't evil, wasn't a monster.

He was drowning in the tears he never shed. Choking on the words he couldn't spit out.

He needed to get out- he needed air- he was suffocating in the perfectly sterile palace.

His composure was starting to fall- he started to run. Darting around corners and through arches until he finally spotted a door. A way out. Air.

Air.

He burst through the door, not worrying about how it may bruise his perfectly crafted image. It was worth it- his fears washing away as fresh air hit him.

He stood, breathing it in. Time slipped away. Clouds blew by, but all Maven could notice was the feeling of the bitter-cold air filling his lungs.

He didn't know when he had sat down next to the door. The stone underneath him chilled his skin through his clothes.

'I should've brought a robe...'

He didn't really mind the chill. It was uncommon for him as a burner to actually feel cold.

The new feeling helped calm him down- collect himself, but it didn't ease the knot in his stomach. Was it grief? Fear? He wanted to feel warmth, but heat didn't help.

He could conjure as much fire as he wanted, but it wouldn't satisfy him. He wanted her warmth. Her touch. Her embrace.

Mare Barrow continued to plague him even when she was miles away.

Did she think of him at night?

Maven knew that even if he did cross her mind, she didn't have pleasant thoughts.

But the thought of being on her mind made Maven just a bit less lonely. So he focused on it.

He told himself it was only to calm his nerves- to get his mind to finally let him sleep- but he couldn't accept that thinking of  her helped him make it through his sleepless nights.

Although, in his mind, Mare did not hate him. He was not evil. His mother had no control over him.

Soon enough, the sun started to rise, painting the sky a brilliant scarlet red.

He almost smiled at the irony. Was this the universe teasing him? He hummed to himself as his eyes slipped closed. But even behind his eyelids he could not escape the red.

But.. if it was her red, he wouldn't be running away at all.