We're Burning (Frerard)

18.Frank Iero's Misfortune With Pronouncing Elvish Words

„It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light." - Aristotle

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When Gerard was younger and his family was still alive, the worst of his worries was that people would forget him and his birthday in favor of the Marjes that crept around the corner. There was only a short week between the two dates, and at the time it seemed like the most terrible thing to Gerard.

To get the smile back on his face, her eyes glittering like she was sharing some wonderful secret, his mother told him: "No one could ever forget you, maja. To be born so close to the moon's own birth... the gods must dearly love you." She would ruffle his hair until it was a mess, then chase him around the house and tickle him when she caught him.

Gerard missed her, he missed them all; his family. They were, a lot of the time, all he had, and something deep inside him ached at their absence. The feeling was similar to having his heart be torn out of his chest, leaving a gaping emptiness in its wake. Or it would feel like that, Gerard supposed, had the act not instantly killed him if it took place.

Gerard missed his mother, his father, and his brother, missed them more than he ever thought a person could miss anyone at all. But as he made his way through the castle's hallways, the Valara Frank had given him heavy and cool on his ankle, the ache and emptiness in Gerard's chest felt a little less painful.

Like the sharp edges of a blade, Frank's kind words and gentle smiles dulled the pain and filled the emptiness Gerard carried within him with warmth. His kind heart and determination to make Gerard happy, even if by just a little, soothed the ache inside him which seemed so incurable.

This late at night, the halls were dark and silent, but Gerard found that it didn't make the castle look so haunting like it usually seemed. Rather, it felt peaceful, and he was grateful for it.

Gerard smiled softly to himself, fiddling distractedly with his fingers. Though he had protested and repeatedly offered his help, Frank would not receive it beyond letting Gerard collect the things Frank had brought to the balcony. After they were all gathered together in bags, the Prince had sent him on his way, promising to make sure Gerard would not be woken up too early the next day.

Nervously, Gerard entered the lower floors of the castle, his fingers twisting each other. There weren't many guards walking around the halls, and the little that were, were not likely to stop an elf walking around at night. The sight wasn't too uncommon after all, since there was always someone who needed something around the castle. Still, they made Gerard uneasy.

The nervousness wasn't enough to strip Gerard of his newfound joy, and it was soothed a bit by the excuse Frank had given him in case of need, but it was there nonetheless. It was as unwelcome as always, that Gerard wouldn't deny.

Thankfully, no guards stopped him, and Gerard made it to his and Frank's hallway with no encounters. Up until then Gerard had only seen two people that night, both guards. The third one Gerard saw when he walked past Frank's door. He lowered his head like he was required to do, and out of the corner of his eye saw someone who he knew was no guard.

They didn't wear the guardsmen' armor, and neither were they an elf. Or at least so Gerard suspected. A dark cloak hung on the person's shoulders and surrounded them completely, not even their shoes picking out from beneath it. A hood covered their face, hiding it from any pair of curious eyes.