Revenge is Best Served Cold

Decieved

"You bastard!" Declan cried when he made his way into the sacred grove. "They took them all! This wasn't the deal we made!"  Rage had brought him this far; what exactly did he think he would accomplish in coming here? But where else did he have to go?
     Watt smiled patiently as if he were looking upon an errant child. His dark hair and glowing green eyes danced with magic and amusement. "You wanted them spared, yes? And were they not?"
     Declan grit his teeth and inhaled slowly. "If you call that spared, I have news for you..." he said with quiet rage. In a way, maybe they had been. They weren't dead but the fate they were sure to suffer now was far worse and slower than any they'd have faced at the hands of brute soldiers with blades. Now his home and lands were occupied by the Roman forces and his family in particular shipped away to god knows where to quell any ideas of rebellion. They couldn't have the locals rallying behind their new Lord.
      Watt leaned back in his throne of foliage and eyed him with bemusement. The magic he'd loaned him with the dagger had influenced his mortality, therefore cutting off his access to the boys thoughts. That was an inoconvenience to be sure. But he was pleased that he'd returned; there was something fierce and conniving beneath that soft exterior that he valued and with his family elsewhere, it was time to twist the circumstances to his advantage. The last rebellion had resulted in the loss of an heir; a right hand to help keep the forest in order. He leaned forward, resting his forearm on the arm of the throne. "I'll make you a deal, child." he said, ignoring what he'd said.
     "No more deals!" Declan spat.

Watt laughed. "No, no. Of course not, you're no fool. But why do you care? Your family was spared and your humanity caged." he eyed the dagger sheathed at Declan's side. "So, what is it that drives this rage you feel?" he couldn't help but inquire. It was a curious thing.
     Declan pointed accusingly at the god, his shoulders squared and head held high. "You fooled me and betrayed *MY* people." and if he could, he would do the same in return and more, he thought to himself. But what could a boy really do against a Fair Folk god? "I sacrificed my honor and humanity for my family and people so they were *mine* to do with as I saw fit. Not the Roman's. Not yours. Prosperity is not living in slavery!"
     Knealing in the middle of the grove, he unsheathed the dagger and gripped it with both hands, aiming the blade at the middle of his chest. "I have nothing to go home to." he said, and buried the blade into his heart. He heard Watt cry out in rage before the world went black and his body fell limply onto the ground; blood soaking into the mossy carpet beneath him.
     Miraculously, sometime later, he woke. Lifting his head, he peered around in confusion; a throbbing ache in his temples. "That was quite the show, Declan." Watt said softly from above him. "You even had me fooled. But here you lie."
     Visions and memories danced before Declans eyes and he gasped... and gasped. He clutched his throat in an effort to stifle the sobs that now escaped as he hyperventilated. Whatever curse had been placed to suppress his humanity, it had been broken and he looked at his hands; remembering the feel of warm blood coating them as he buried the dagger in his fathers chest. His hands fluttered over his face in agony. "What did you do!?" he cried.

Watt stood from his throne and knelt by his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to help your family?" he asked gently. "I can help you do that."
     Declan adjusted his position, moving to his knees to peer into Watt's face. "No."
     It was in that moment he noticed the onyx crown of nightshade in the god's hand. "Not even for a crown and a place at my side?" he asked, as if it were a no brainer. "You will have the power to rid your lands of the vermin who occupy them at the very least. Who knows what can be done from there?" he paused dramatically and lifted Declan's chin to meet his eyes. "The possibilities are endless."
     He shoved his hand away from his face and spat at him. "With a deal like that, what's in it for you?"
     Watt simply smiled. "You will be my heir, and serve as my hand of law and justice within the forest." Declan laughed without humor. "An heir? Are you down that bad?" but even as he snapped, a plan began to formulate in his mind as he fought to gain his composure.
     "We are the same, you and I." Watt replied. "We were both blessed with humanity. And the god before me - the same. If something were to happen to me - who would rule the Fair Folk? Who would guide them?"
     Declan doubted they needed guidance of any kind. The ones he'd met had seemed pretty capable on their own. But what did he know?
      "... and I can take my land back?" he asked, forcing himself to sound innocent and *ignorant* as it all began to click into place.
     "You can deal the hand of vengeance yourself with the right powers, my son." Watt said, with a pleased tone.
     They discussed the terms at length for hours and come nightfall, Watt placed the crown on Declan's head and spoke a blessing over the living dagger before splitting his palm with the blade; embuing it with a portion of his own essence.