The Prince was afraid, as much as he would hate to admit it. The kingdom was glowing with light, a fire that was not burning out, and he was scared. He wanted to get out of the castle, but he was running for that wooden door. The one to the garden. The one to Jack.
It slammed behind him, as he squinted into the darkness of the garden to find that tall figure who was always there. Jack was nowhere to been seen. Half of the Prince was saying that it was late, Jack was not here because of the time it was but the other half of him was screaming that this was the taller's doing. Someone started the chaos to come. And the feeling was there. Jack did it.
Prince Alexander could not be more correct in thinking so.
*
Jack? He was scared. The Jack Barakat would admit to his fear, the dark night sky being his guide to nowhere as he ran from the kingdom, his work, his fire, his Prince.
It had to stop. He knew the fire could not simply burn to ashes. He could not run any more. Had he not done enough of that, dammit? His footsteps were failing him, tumbling. His breathing was heavier in the panic to leave, scared. Why did he do this? Why would he ever want to hurt Alex?
And that is why his footsteps turned, racing towards the garden, and hoping to god that the young man was okay. He knew it was risky; he knew that his arrest would be fast if he was seen. The Prince would be beyond furious at him. His life was at risk but he had already done so much damage tonight, he needed to be sure that the only thing nearest to love he felt was safe. Would he able to live with himself if the royal was harmed?
The sound was possibly the worst thing the boy had faced since running back into the town. Fire -bright red, hot, burning fire - was scorching the wooden buildings. It crackled and sparked threateningly, people screaming, babies crying, young calling after their kin. It was loud, and as people rushed around, trying to either dull down the flame, or escape its deathly grip - but Jack did not care. He was running, in plain sight of anyone who dared remove their eyes from the danger, towards the castle.
His hands hurt, scratched and bled as he attempted to climb the wall into the garden. It was dark, despite the bright chaos behind him. He had been able to avoid sighting, his distraction the place behind him, but the guards would know his face. The guilt behind his features. They could recognise, at last, the Jack Barakat from the Kingdom Of Wintermist; known criminal in most kingdoms. Because the look of suspicion he got the day he was allowed in the castle hinted them. Now there was his signature attack; fire. It all added up, didn't it? A complete stranger from Wintermist, who got close to the son of a King, talented in battle, and going to the castle on the night of fire? It all summed up to the work of Jack.
"Alex?" he asked stupidly, yet panicked, into the dark.
"Jack!"
A shadow of the shorter Prince was coming up to him, until they stood as close as the day they had sat on the wall. The garden was hot, as if the fire could be burning right next to them, smoke taking over the oxygen in the air but none of it mattered as Alexander wrapped his arms around Jack.
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a/n: well this was long overdue. why does all my writing involve some kind of murder/murderer? dammit.
