Schlinge

(Varian)

The air was cold, the sky dark and gray. Clothed feet dragged against the cobblestones. The dull light of day blinded the bright blue eyes of the teen. He squinted as the guards escorted him out into the courtyard.

People. Crowds and crowds of people. As far as his cold eyes could see. He felt his heart skip a beat at the thought of the blonde man somehow amongst them.

He spotted the king and queen, sitting in a box seated for a perfect view. The unmistakable gold hair of the princess was next to them. Her face sad, eyes red as if she had done all her mourning for him already.

"Maybe, maybe if she had helped me in the first place, none of this would have happened,” he thought bitterly.

He was right, they should’ve tried to break out. They'd still be together if he had only listened.

The guard behind him shoved him forward roughly, Varian snarling under his breath.
His feet shuffled, the chains on his wrists and ankles clanking in the cold winter air.

"So we’re really gonna do this, huh, guys?" Varian chuckled, trying to light his own mood.

The guard behind him shoved him forward again, his harsh “Silence," stopping the words in the boy’s throat. He started to panic, the pain blossoming in his chest as he stopped infront of the wooden stage.

"After a year of imprisonment,” the kings voice sounded over the quiet crowd of people, “we shall finally take action against this- sadist."

Varian looked around, trying to find a kind face anywhere amongst the crowd, but to no avail. He was greeted with cold glares and harsh sneers. But even though the crowd hated him, he would rather have them enjoy his death, then see Hugo watch him die.

"We deserve this,” his mind screamed at him.

He felt his breathing quicken as the king stood, his unforgiving scowl staring Varian down.

"Varian! Son of Quirin,” he said, his voice echoing off the cold cobblestones. "is hereby sentenced to death."

Varian stared up at the rope, his hopeless eyes filling with tears.

"He who has committed the highest of treason-”

Varian felt someone staring at him, and he turned around slowly. "D-dad?" He said in disbelief. There stood Quirin, in the doorframe Varian had previously been escorted through. "DAD! Y-your ok!?" he cried, pulling against the chains the guards held in place.

Quirin stared at the boy, his face streaked in salty tears. His son was skinny and pale, small cuts and bruises literally his freckled skin. Varian met his eyes, pleading, begging his father to take him home. To hold him close, keep him safe, just like when he was young.

But Quirin turned his head away, and Varian felt his world fall apart.

"D-Dad? No- " he cried, "Please don't go, I'm sorry."

He tried moving towards him, but the chains on his hands and the grip of the guards restrained him.

"Don't- don't leave me!" he cried, tears running down his face. He choked over his words, breathing heavily. "PLEASE- Don't go!"

He felt as if everything he had done was wasted.

"I did it all for you! EVERYTHING WAS FOR YOU!!" he screamed, thrashing, eyes straining to keep the retreating figure of his father in sight.

Then he was gone, swallowed in the darkness around him.

"I-I’m sorry,” he sobbed.

The guards turned him back towards the wooden stage, and Varian’s eyes looked down at the wet cobblestones beneath his bloodied and bruised feet.