“I can’t tell you what to do.”, Markus said softly, watching Oliver. He didn’t need to know. Oliver could just as well also have something bad in mind, and Markus was powerless to stop him from doing whatever he planned on doing.
“I’m glad you saved me… and if you really want to travel with me some, instead of… just bringing me back… it would make me really happy too.”. He had told Oliver how he felt. He didn’t like being king. Traveling was something he had always worried about, been afraid of even. He was afraid something would happen to his kingdom while he was away, that he’d be blamed even. But now he was missing, and not out of his own will leaving. He still worried, of course, but who could blame him for not being there?
If Oliver had wanted to kill him, or even just harm him in some way, he would have left him on the ship that he had been trapped in. But there was no reason to kill him; Markus didn’t appear to be the kind of ruler that one of his brothers had dreamed of assassinating. The idea of killing a king to replace a royal family with themselves had been appealing, but ultimately it was only a fantasy held by children.
“You… want to stay with me…? Why?”, he questioned, finding the idea completely absurd. They had only known each other for a single day, if that, and they hadn’t even begun travelling. It wasn’t as if Markus had nothing to go back to. He had a kingdom, and other people that loved him, most likely. “If you still want to by the time we get to the Elysium border, sure. I just… don’t want you to come with me and then regret your decision.”
“You can’t imagine how terrible it is to be crowned when you’re fifteen.”, Markus mumbled. He closed his eyes, tired, but still wanting to talk.
“Before my parents were murdered… I was free. Free to do whatever I liked… it was all taken from me…. I want to travel, and see the world a little… without having to worry about a kingdom blaming me for its fall..”.
Of course he’d feel terrible if something bad happened to his kingdom now. While he was gone, having left willingly or not. And as much as he’d blame himself, he knew it wouldn’t have been his fault. Not really at least.
“If we just get close to Elysium.. people will recognize me. I’ll be forced to go home…. back to being a play-pretend king…”. He knew he’d break one day, if he kept going like he had. Pretending to be strong, to not worry, not have insecurities and anxieties.
“It’s alright if you.. just want to bring me back. Get whatever it is you seek from it…. I wouldn’t blame you..”.
emptynarration 