Fantasizing a war - A Sanders Sides Trilogy

Breakdown

Roman breathed out slowly. Virgil was sitting in his lap, asleep on his shoulder, and the King held his boyfriends' hand softly. Gently pushing his lover onto his bed, Roman swung his legs over the side, feeling the cold air greet his bare feet, as he'd dressed for bed. Roman forced himself to stand, feeling the carpet beneath him as he moved drowsily to his balcony. He opened the doors silently, staring out over the meadow. The night air was crisp, stars glistening like icy tears and the moon was crescent.

Placing his hands on the railing, Roman exhaled, breath turning to vapour. The King blinked sleepily although he couldn't actually rest properly. The stone was freezing under his feet but he didn't move. His pegasus, Cloud, was sleeping in the stable with Storm resting in the cubicle next to her. Roman closed his eyes, sighing as he bowed his head softly.

The young man left the balcony, entering his room again and shutting the door. Virgil made a small noise in his sleep and Roman walked quietly over, stroking the prince's' hair. His boyfriend smiled softly, relaxing, so Roman gently moved to his bedroom door.

"Love you..." He whispered at Virgil's' slumbering figure, before leaving his room, closing the door. Letting his shoulders drop, Roman paced down the corridors, the tiles frigid and icy. Taking twists and turns, the King found the room he'd been searching for. His fathers' bedroom.

Opening the door and pushing it closed, Roman swept his gaze around the late mans' room. The body had been taken out long ago and the room still smelt like Philip. Roman padded over to his fathers' bed, footsteps muffled in the thick carpet. He knelt down at the side of the bed, locking his fingers together as he rested his arms on the bed. Leaning his forehead on the sheets, Roman shook his head.

"How'd you do it?" He whispered. "How did you put the realm in mourning when you yourself wanted to break?" The young King lifted his head. His cheeks were wet with tears and his voice broke an octave higher. "Because I don't know- I don't how you did it." Roman shook his head again, bottom lip quivering. "I don't have the strength to. I don't have the strength to lead the realm like you, Dad, you were wrong about me..." His shoulders juddered as his breath caught. "I'll never be as great as you. I'm still not ready." He sobbed.

What Roman would've given for magic. To bring his father back to have that support he craved. Virgil was amazing, beautiful and understanding but Virgil was not Philip. Logan was intelligent, logical and empathetic when needed but Logan was not Philip. Patton was warm, sympathetic and affectionate but Patton was not Philip. Deceit was witty, a good ally and a better friend but Deceit was not Philip. Remus was amusing, joking and accepting but Remus was not Philip. Joan was hilarious, proud and happy but Joan was not Philip. Philip was Roman's' father. Philip was too good for anyone to take his place, even Roman.

The King shook his head again, turning his back to the bed as he leaned on it. "You always knew what to do." He mumbled, voice quivery. "Why couldn't you be here now? You'd be doing this better than me... You were strong enough to do everything. I-If you were here n-now, you'd say I need t-to stop moping bec-because I am st-strong enough... But that was because I had you." Roman's' voice went even higher as it finally cracked. "And now you're gone. And you're never coming back-!"

He brought his knees closer, hiding his face in them. "You're never coming back..."