Kingdoms In Ruling <Jamilton>

Chapter TwentyThree...'They Aren't Just Rumours.'/

hi forewarning don't read seabury's POV if you don't like slight gore lol sorry

***

\Maria POV/

A pool of red and suddenly, I was back in Reynold's house. It was the day after she died that he broke.

Breathing heavy, mind foggy with her screams. Or were they mine? Flashes of teeth as they broke between split lips, gnawing, gnashing, grinding-

Hands pulled at my wrists and I lashed out, striking flesh with heel. Dark, furious eyes stared into mine - the same I saw in her. I could recognize them anywhere, Reynolds blurred and bloody face glaring into mine as he grappled for control, fighting, threatening, intimidating.

The hands around mine were soft. The distantly-familar touch of soft cotton whipping my legs, and I struggled to keep my footing. Being caught on the ground would kill me.

"James, help me with her!" My eyes widened at the name - I didn't even register the voice. Reynolds was most definitely here, and he will show up soon.

I couldn't let him get me. He'll kill me. He'll kill me, and nobody will care for the bloody rogue.

A hand squeezed my cheeks and I snapped at their fingers, missing narrowly. Unfamiliar hands gripped my biceps - why were they so soft? - and I twisted to get out of their grasp. They were inexperienced. I could use this to my advantage.

A different set of arms wrapped around my waist. These ones were much stronger, much broader. Much more of a challenge. I felt my lips twist into a grin; I quite liked challenges.

I will not let the man I loved kill me today.

I fought hard to face my oppressor. I knew I drew blood from the yelp I heard, muffled but noticeable, along with the sharp scent of metal. A flash of silver, and the world goes dark.

***

\Madison POV/

"Thomas, please-"

"She is a danger to this fragile society. She must go."

"You literally just killed a man, I don't think you have any right to make such rash decisions-"

"Don't you think I know that?" Thomas seethed, hands going to tug at his hair in frustration. "The rogue hurt you, James. As much as I like her, I cannot let it slide."

"Oh, just like how you've been keeping Reynolds locked in a cell? Why not banish him? He hurt her and I too many times and over this one mistake-"

"What if it happens again? James, what if she loses control again? What if she hurts someone else?"

"She won't!" I snapped. "She was having a panic attack for Maker's sake! She probably has PTSD. She had every right to act the way she did. Who knows what had happened to her before she came into our lives."

"Are you fucking kidding me, James?"

"Why are you so against this?" I pleaded, and his eyes turned soft. Thomas sighed heavily, leaning against the stone wall. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the workers cleaning up the blood in the clearing, already sticky and dried from the hot sun.

"I've...been hearing some rumours." He muttered, head turned. His fingers fumbled with his sleeves, something he rarely so did.

"There's always gonna be rumours." I say. "What's so different about these?"

"They involve Hamilton."

I groaned softly, in slight mock amusement. "When do they not? The man's a walking, talking time-bomb. Of course there's going to be rumours about him."

"They involve with him apparently knowing the rogue!" Thomas snapped, and I froze.

Oh. Oh.

"They aren't just rumours," I answered, meekly.

The sight in front of him could've made him laugh if this wasn't so serious, the way his eyes were bulging. Thomas heaved a deep sigh through his nose, seeming to think carefully over his next words.

"...what?" Thomas managed to say. Good job, idiot.

"Maria and I were there, you know, when Hamilton was almost taken." I started, eyes down. It wasn't exactly my secret to tell - is it even a secret? - but if it kept Thomas from banishing Maria for good, over something so petty, she'll forgive him. "She instantly recognized him. Knew his name and everything."

"Everybody knows who he is." Thomas tried to argue.

"But do average people know his middle name? Or his mother's name? Or the fact that he likes drizzling rain, despite his fear of storms, as long as there are no harsh winds?" I retorted.

Thomas stayed silent, this time. I continued.

"I talked with Eliza," Here I was, back to being quiet. "She was the girl who helped me control Maria. The day Hamilton was unconcious...she knows more about him than most. She confirmed these things when I asked. I had to lie to her face, saying words might've slipped, and not that I just found Alexander's childhood bestfriend for fucks sake.

"I talked with Maria more. She talked with John to confirm. She refuses to even be in the same room as him." I twisted my fingers, in a slight daze. "I don't know what to do." I finally admitted, voice breaking.

I was suddenly enveloped in a warm hug, and I melted into it graciously. Familar curls tickled my neck as the man was forced to bend down, and I chuckled at his awkward position despite myself.

"I'm sorry." Was all Thomas said for awhile, pulling back but not quite letting ago.

"For what?" I countered, no real fire behind my words. "You're just doing your job as a King. As...as a friend." The wound on my brow stung.

"She had every right to act the way she did." Thomas repeated my words, and I smiled in gratitude, bowing my head slightly.

Unknowingly to them, a dark figure was curled up against a corner down the hall, having heard everything. His brown hair curled in the moonlight, green cloak pulled tightly around him, the whisper of 'Maria' tracing his lips. He scurried away before the two high officials could spot him - in his own home, no less - needing time to think over the buried memories suddenly sprung at him.

Traces of red, hidden by stone, followed him.

***

\Seabury POV/

Two weeks. Two weeks of staying with this fucking man, two weeks of this torture-

A loud crack interrupted my thoughts, and I screamed. It was the sound of bone breaking, and I flinched as I sharply breathed in the sudden aroma of blood.

"Pay attention, baby. I don't want you to think of anyone else but me." A voice purred, and I curled away in disgust, my broken leg dragging across the sharp stones. I heard a sigh before a hand gripped the gnarled limb, pulling.

I screamed again before a fist socked my mouth, causing me to choke on my own blood and teeth. "Shut up." The voice hissed, but I couldn't listen. I spat the blood - another hiss was heard, did I spit on him? - and continued to scream.

It felt like I was on fire.

Which, I actually was, in a way. At least in the past.

...

It took me awhile to stop screaming.

***

-Gabriel

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