Viva La Vida

Part 9

"How'd it go, then?" Harry's not looking at him, and it makes Liam feel a bit odd. Harry has never not been able to look him in the eyes.

"It's bad," Liam says softly. "People are dying."

"Because of the rebellion, right?" Harry demands, and it doesn't sound like a question. "Because they started this war, and that created all these problems, and now—it's their fault, Liam, isn't it?"

After what he's seen today, Harry's insistence strikes Liam as childish. "I don't know whose fault it is, Harry. I just know that it has to be stopped."

"So you're saying that it could be the crown's fault? Is that what you're saying?" Harry finally turns to face him, and his eyes are red. He looks like Liam has stabbed him in the back. "That sounds like treason, Liam."

Liam blinks. "So what, I'm committing treason against myself? That doesn't seem like such a terrible crime, t'be honest."

"Against your uncle, Liam!" Harry shouts, his fists clenching. "They take you out of this place once and suddenly you're seeing things from their point of view? What the hell's up with that?"

"You're the one that said that we could be them, if things were a little different, Harry. So what the hell's up with that? That we'd be allowed to be angry if we were in their position, but they're not allowed to be angry when they're in it? It's only an outrage if it's happening to us? I'm not saying I want to throw my uncle off the throne, for Christ's sake. But if people have no homes and no money and no hope, something's wrong."

"You don't fucking get it, Liam!" The look on Harry's face has turned ugly and he's shaking. "You don't just get to change your mind like that! There's a system, and we're a part of it, and do you really think that if it gets changed, we'll live through it? Ever learned about the French Revolution? None of the royals or aristocracy lived. You're throwing us all under the guillotine when you say you want things to change. The minute things change, we're all dead."

Liam stares at him, and, like it's the first time he's looking at Harry, sees a deep, visceral fear that they truly won't live through this. Liam himself has never doubted that they'll get home ever since they arrived at base. He just assumed it would happen, that his uncle would move mountains and kingdoms to get him home. "Harry—"

"Don't fucking talk to me," Harry says, turning away again abruptly, his voice choked. "If you want us all to get killed by the Circle, that's on you."

"Harry—things are gonna change, they're gonna settle down, we're going to work this out—"

"You still don't get it. There is no happy ending here. People are going to end up dead, and it's going to be ugly and bloody and terrible no matter what. There's no one that can fix this, if it's as bad as you say."

Liam can feel a kind of hopelessness seeping out of Harry into himself, because what the other man says is true: there is no easy solution to this. Either the common people will keep living in misery and fear, or the courts of England will become slaughter houses.

There is no turning it off. There is no getting out.

***

When dinner is brought into his cell, Liam doesn't have much of an appetite. There are so many things that are weighing far too heavily on his mind for him to be able to eat much. Plus, it's Niall that brings the food in, which sort of kills his desire to eat—the duke's betrayal still stings, even if he can understand it a little better now.