Trapped in Lace (lgbt)

Ch 2

He has been gone a couple of days now, he knows as much. You

He stops when he can, but he is not foolish to think his family has stopped hunting for him.

Thus, he does not stop for more than necessary.

Just a couple hours for his beast to recuperate, for him to eat his staling bread and drink water from whatever stream he can find.  Enough to sleep with one eye open, heaven knows what would happen if he let his guard down.

So, he finds himself always on the move. Unsure if he is going north or south, unsure if he even wants to know.

He mounts his mare and grabs the reigns, tugging the horse in the opposite direction of home.

The first bullet startles his mare as it strikes the bark of a tree and explodes with a boom! It is enough to make his beast rise on its hind legs and throw him off guard.  He lands on the ground with a painful thud.  The second bullet strikes his friend.  The yowling of pain makes his heart clench and look around with wild eyes.

"Mikayla!"

"No," he breathes, panic growing, "no, no, no!"

He rises and a bullet is lodged in his shoulder in hopes of stopping him, in slowing him down.

It hurts, it stings, and it makes him cry out in pain.

He attempts to stand, to run on foot if he must.

"Mikayla!"

Tears well in his eyes as he peers up at the approaching man.  He dismounts easily as he runs toward Mikhail where he is crumbled and injured.

"Sister," the man breathes in what can be assumed as relief.

"I am not your sister," Mikhail hisses, attempting to crawl away.

"Mikayla, stop this non-sense," the man growls, pulling on the hood of the cape.

Mikhail closes his eyes.

"What have you done sister, your hair," the man gasps.

"Stop Atticus," Mikhail begs.

"This has to stop," Atticus states, voice soft but firm, "come now, home."

"That is not my home," Mikhail argues, "I refuse to go back only to be sold off to the highest bidder because papa and mama want as such."

The sting that follows those words is heard like the echo of the bullets fired mere moments ago.  It is enough to momentarily distract Mikhail from the growing pain radiating from his shoulder.

"You will speak of mother and father with respect, they want nothing but the best for you, for our sisters and brothers.  Why can you not be more like Elizabeth?"

"I am not her!  I am not you!  You do not follow their rules, why should I?!"

"Because I am a man, and you-"

"And I?" Mikhail challenges, slowly but surely rising on his feet.

He feels unsteady, lightheaded, but he does not falter. Still, he refuses to look down as he feels the trickle of blood running down his skin. He is sure his clothing is soaked through with scarlet turned black in the darkness of the forest.

He demands a bit harsher, "And I?"

"You are not," Atticus sighs at last, "You belong with a man who can provide and protect you."

"I do not want a man who will do nothing but keep me," Mikhail states, "I do not want nor need a man when I have myself."

"Mik-"

"Mikhail," he interrupts.

"Mikayla," Atticus ignores, "just let us go home."

"You shot me," Mikhail sniffs.

"And you ran, you cut your hair!  You're dressed like something you will never be!  Something that will not, is not, accepted!"

Mikhail wraps his hand around a thick and jagged log more securely behind his back.  He looks away to his slain companion.  He looks exhausted yet younger, a child still in the eyes of his older brother.

"The others?" He finally asks with a hint of resignation.

"Father is weary," Atticus answers, "and Philip and Colt are with him, they shall be here soon.  I shall help you mount your meager belongings.  Now, please dear sister, get on my horse."

The horse in question is but mere feet away.  Mikhail swallows past the painful lump growing in his throat.  As Atticus turns to unravel his bag from the dead beast, Mikhail takes the opportunity he will not have again.

"I am truly sorry brother," he whispers.

He is not sure where the strength comes from.  He is dizzy from blood loss, but adrenaline is still pumping through his veins. He does not hesitate to bash his brother's skull in.  There's a crunch as Atticus tumbles toward the forest ground.

There's a flash of panic within Mikhail, wondering if he hit too hard, if he just unintentionally killed his kin.

Mikhail hovers over his unconscious brother and at the sight of his chest rising and falling, Mikhail sighs in true relief.

"Forgive me brother, but I refuse to go back to that gilded cage."

He finishes unravelling his pack and loosens the reigns of his brother's horse snagged on a branch.  He smacks the horse and watches as it tramples far away. Mikhail then hides among the underbrush.  He waits with bated breath until he hears familiar voices, shouts.

"Atticus!"

Mikhail peers from his hiding space as his brothers dismount, their father following suit.

"She must have taken the beast," Colt points out, his gaze following the damage of the horse's stampede.

Mikhail does nothing to hide his proud little smirk at fooling his brother.

"Colton," their father calls, "help me bring Atticus home, he needs medical attention."

"What of our sister?"

"Atticus wounded her, so she will not be far. Philip, go after her trail and we shall join you as soon as Atticus receives the attention he requires."

It is not long before they split ways.

Mikhail closes his eyes in short lived relief.

"Mikhail," a voice calls in concern.

His eyes open in surprise.

He looks through the foliage once more and he swears Philip catches his eye despite blending in with the greenery.

Even if he is truly seen, the older man does not attempt to approach him.

"You are wounded," he states, "please, find somewhere safe to hide, to rest.  I understand this is something you must do."

Mikhail resists the urge to call out to his brother as tears well up in his eyes.

"Be well... brother."

Horse hooves disappear in the distance and Mikhail can no longer hold back a sob.

Of pain.

Of anguish.

Of fear.

He wonders, but he does not regret.

He slips from under the shrubs and continues his journey, meandering with exhaustion and dizziness.

He will find home again.

Just not here, not now.