Deserter

ELEVEN

{Chapter Triggers: mention and description of blades, mention of fighting and attacks, discussion of death/euthanasia, backstabbing/treachery. Those are all I can think of/figure out from reading through the chapter, I apologize if I missed any and feel free to inform me.}

Anxiety woke up to the door of the isolated cell banging open. As he slowly raised himself into a semi-sitting position, squinting tiredly, Patton practically flew across the room, digging the keys to the cell out frantically.

One of the younger guards followed the healer into the room, fidgeting nervously. "Sir Patton, is this really a good idea? Sir Logan made it very clear that he did not want the Trickster out of his cell."

"What's happening?" Anxiety got to his feet, seeing the terror in Patton's eyes.

"They're here- they're here and the guard is taking as many of them on as they can but they're heading for the throne room and I don't know what else to do." Patton explained, fumbling with the keys and finally getting the cell door open.

"You're... you're very upset about this." Anxiety said slowly, frowning.

Patton looked up at him, tears clear in his eyes. "I don't want to die, nor do I want to lose the king. Here is where you prove yourself to be on our side, Anxiety."

He nodded quietly and stepped out of the cell. Patton turned to the guard. "Armory, now."

The guard hesitated, then a crash resounded through the castle a few floors beneath them. He jumped and nodded, leading the way out of the room.

Anxiety stayed silent as they walked down the halls, eyes flicking from side to side. He could hear footsteps echoing throughout the castle, and was focusing on trying to pinpoint where they were so that he knew whether or not they were close enough to be a potential threat.

The guard finally dug out a little key ring from his own pocket, unlocking a set of huge doors and pulling them open.

The armory was significantly quieter than the rest of the castle. The three stepped inside and looked around quietly.

"Are you trying to find something specific?" Patton asked Anxiety, fidgeting nervously.

"Yes, but I cannot explain what it is." Anxiety stepped further into the room. "I will know it when I see it."

they walked between tables of weapons, looking at what was there. Patton played with the edge of his tunic.

"I've never been in here." He said quietly after a minute. Anxiety paused and looked at him.

"You don't have a weapon?" He frowned at the healer. Patton quickly shook his head.

"No, I have one! I owned it before I came to work in the castle, it's never been down here."

He drew the dagger strapped to his side, showing it to Anxiety. The Trickster picked it up and inspected it for a few moments.

"It's a beautiful piece of craftsmanship."

Patton nodded, looking at his hands. "It was a gift from my wife, long ago."

Anxiety expertly flipped the knife over, carefully gripping the blade, and offered the hilt to Patton. He took it and slid it back into the scabbard.

As he turned to keep looking for the weapon he was thinking of, something caught Anxiety's eye and he stopped, curious. After pinpointing the location of what he was looking at, he carefully wove between the tables and walked up to the raised, padded ledge.

"Patton, what is this?" He finally asked, glancing over his shoulder.

Patton stopped and looked over, then sucked in a breath.

"That was the prince's sword."

With a surprising amount of care and reverence, Anxiety picked up the sword, inspecting it critically.

"It's beautiful."

The pommel of the sword was silver, and encrusted with several amethysts. The grip was simple enough in design, but it was brilliantly crafted. The blade was blued steel, with familiar crescent shaped hammer markings.

"That sword is for the prince and the prince only." The guard said, sounding upset.

Anxiety turned to look at him, expression blank. "Is the prince around?"

Patton sighed sadly. "No one has known the whereabouts of the prince for almost ten years..."

"He's dead." Anxiety said flatly, replacing the sword.

"You don't know that." The guard glared at him.

"I saw it happen."

Patton flinched, looking at him. "You didn't... did you?"

The Trickster sighed heavily and moved away from the table. "I found him on the side of the road... he had been attacked by bandits, he had no weapon and they must have caught him by surprise. I couldn't get him to the nearest town in time..."

He shook his head, knowing how it sounded. "He was in pain, Patton, I didn't want him to go through more of that if I couldn't help him any other way. He asked me to do it, and I knew he wouldn't last long, so I granted his last wish in the hope that it would save him some pain."

"How long ago was that?"

Anxiety paused, thinking back.

"Almost eight years ago. Just before Deceit took me in."

Patton fell silent, looking upset. Anxiety didn't say anything else.

"What is this?" The guard with them asked suddenly. Anxiety looked over and made an indignant noise.

"That absolute buffoon! He broke it!"

Patton followed Anxiety as he walked over to the table with the strange contraption on it. "What is that?"

"A weapon of my personal creation." Anxiety was fuming. "Your Sir Roman managed to get ahold of it during a fight a few years ago and now it is broken. Of course he broke it, he probably tried to figure out how to use it."

"Can you fix it?" Patton asked.

The Trickster paused, then nodded. "I think so... I will need time though."

Patton looked to the young guard, then back to Anxiety. "We can do that for you. Come on, Daniel."

~~~In The Throne Room~~~

They were on their last stand. The guard had taken up defensive positions in the throne room, defending their king with everything they had left.

Patton stood at the door to the king's quarters, holding his knife and fidgeting nervously. He'd taken the spot there because that made him the last defense.

Deceit's men were ruthless, but the King Thomas's men were determined to protect their Sovereign.

The doors to the throne room suddenly burst open, and Patton's eyes widened at the sight that was revealed.

Anxiety stepped into the throne room. He was wearing a suit of armor that seemed to fit him well. In one hand he held the dead prince's sword...

His other arm was completely encased in that strange metal contraption that they'd found in the armory. As he stalked forward, two thin blades sprang from the part that was touching the back of his hand.

Everyone was staring at him. Anxiety looked around the room, smirked, then lunged at one of Deceit's men.

The room descended into chaos again.

{So since Patton is a dad, I sort of put a family together for him. Wife and son, both passed away about nine or ten years before the story takes place. Most people headcanon Patton as pansexual anyway and I would agree with that... just wanted to explain my thought process a little in case anyone was wondering about the reasoning}