A Knights revenge

"Your highness, all the horses are back in their stables for the night. Each stall has been cleaned, fresh water placed in all, and every horse brushed and fed," said Anthony, bowing to the mighty king that sat before him.

George tapped his fingers against the arms of his golden throne. It was made of the finest metals from France, polished every day to maintain its elegant look. It matched the silver floors—so clean a person could see their own reflection in the tiles. Anthony's green eyes glared back into his soul as he looked down at the floor while he spoke to his trusty king.

George sighed before speaking in a low, tired voice. "Good. That'll be all for tonight. I'll pass night duties to Lloyd." He was clearly bored and worn out from the previous long day.

Anthony nodded and got to his feet. God, his shoes were worn out. A person would think living in a castle meant you'd have nice clothing... His hands were covered in dried mud, matching the spots on his sweater, pants, and boots. He had those brown boots since he was a kid. George bought them for him. They hadn't actually fit him until a few years ago. They're his favorite pair, and he refused to wear any other pair of shoes.

The king rose from his throne, his large cape falling behind him as he walked towards the tall knight. "I've told you. You don't have to call me 'Your Highness'. I don't like it."

"I'm only being respectful, your highness." Anthony didn't move, but his eyes followed George as he pranced around the room slowly. It was an empty room. Curtains covering empty corridors, a painting here and there, one was of George and an owl perched on his shoulder. Anthony liked that one. A little table next to the door with a flower pot on it and a picture frame that was flipped the wrong way. Anthony never questioned it. Never question the emptiness.

George shook his head with an impish scoff. He stopped in his tracks and turned back to Anthony, who turned to face him as well. "You did it again."

"Well, it's a habit! You can't blame me!" Anthony's voice rose an octave when he was being playfully defensive. Georges signature smirk took the place of a neutral look on his face.

"You grew up calling me George, it can't be that bad of a habit."

Anthony lightened up more. His shoulders fell forward, finally relaxing after a long day. He never realized how tense he was throughout each day until he was off. "Well, that changed when I became your number one knight."

George rolled his eyes. His feet moved again and took him to stand in front of the dirty knight. "You could always ask for something better to wear."

"What? Too dirty for your liking, your majesty?" Anthony chuckled, shoving the king gently. Anthony liked his attire. His ripped black jeans with custom made knee pads over them. The leather strap across his chest that held a sword or a bow (it depended on the day, really). The metal chest pad over his green sweater—the sleeves rolled up to reveal his muddy and scarred arms after each day. The black cloak tied around his neck. It was just him, and he couldn't imagine himself in anything else.

It was very different from George. The king didn't wear typical "king wear" besides a cape. His boots went up to his knees that caused the saggy black pants he wore to bunch up at the ends. A baby blue shirt with a white long-sleeve under it, tucked into those pants. Usually he didn't hear his big, red cape that treaded behind him a few feet. The fur around his neck was owl fur. The same one from that painting—George loved that owl. Anthony would always walk by during the day to see George just sitting with his owl, enjoying his time... He wore a smaller one that went to the small of his back most of the time. Anthony liked it, though. He thought it was pretty. He thought George was pretty.

"You're not burning up under there?" Anthony cocked a brow, weakly pointing up and down at the cape tied around him.

"Yes, I am...but I'm always burning up aren't I? Too hot for my own good," George gave Anthony a wink. Anthony just laughed and shoved his friend again.

"You're an idiot."

"Whatever."

Anthony knew this just meant George wanted help getting the thing off; it was too heavy for one person to do. It was covered in jewels and fur...Not even following kingdoms had as much wealth as George had. It was quite impressive what George had. But he deserved it. He may not enjoy it all that much...but it was luxury after all.

"Are you retiring for the night? You had a long day," Anthony asked, focused on disconnecting the hook that connected the two sides of the cloak.

"No way. I haven't done a single thing, I need out," George huffed quietly. Anthony knew what that meant. He always knew what George meant, even when he had little to say. The art of reading between the lines. If one was going to befriend George, that was something they had to be good at. George didn't have the best way with words, but Anthony always knew what he was saying. Their way of communication was easy, so few words that meant too much to one another.

"Okay."

"Ok."

And soon enough, Anthony was crouching down, holding his hands out in a cup for George to step on. George used it as a boost to get over the stone wall that separated the inside of the castle and the world outside.

"You know we could just use the gate," George wiped himself off of any dirt and leaves that were attached to him from the vines that went down the wall.

"We can't break tradition!" Anthony said as he climbed over and hopped down next to the other. As kids, George wasn't allowed to leave the castle. But with Anthony around, that never stayed true. Every night they were running around chasing each other in the forest. Anthony always had to drag the mud-covered prince back to the castle in the darkest time of the night. He would sit in George's window seal and they'd talk into the dawn. They liked watching the sunrise together. They never did that anymore; they were always so busy.

The height difference always made Anthony snicker a bit to himself when they were on level ground again. George hated addressing the difference in height. The worst part of it for George was that his head was a perfect armrest for Anthony.

George gently grabbed onto Anthony's hand. Their hands fit together so perfectly. It was always a delicate touch. Something so fragile yet so intimate. Anthony would take off one of his fingerless gloves every time they went out to satisfy George. He learned at a young age that if it wasn't off, the brit would throw a silent fit to himself as they walked. It was strange, but nothing to complain about.

Tonight felt different. The knight couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was different.

"You're quiet," George broke the silence about fifteen minutes into their walk. Their walk was 45 minutes long to their special spot. No one knew about their special spot.

Anthony shrugged, "not much to say. Just admiring the view."

"We come down here, like, every day. Nothing changed," George said blandly. He wasn't too interested in the conversation. It was hard to get George interested in a conversation, usually. "Just a bunch of shrubs."

The path was just a bunch of the same looking trees, nothing special. They had carved out a pathway, and the more they walked back and forth through the years. There were a few fallen trees in the way, but at least it added a little flare to the trip.

"I meant you, stupid."

"Oh."

"You add so much...sparkle to the scene," Anthony tried being creative with his words, but everything just got stuck on the tip of his tongue.

"Oh yeah?" George looked back at the dirty blonde haired knight he was pulling along for a second with an amused brow raised.

"Definitely. I mean the way you just glow under this moonlight is breathtaking."

George looked up at the sky, through the leaves that lined the top of the forest, and the stars that outlined the sky to see the full moon beaming over them. Anthony looked up at it, too. He admired the way the world lit up under it's luminance.

George liked the way he could see the reflection of the moon in Anthony's green eyes. The way the moon illuminated in his eyes, making them shine even in the darkest time of the night. Anthony looked back at George. They exchanged shy smiles before George focused ahead of him.

The sound of flowing water became more prominent as they approached their destination. Behind a wall of flower-covered vines, there was a drained cove. There was a small waterfall running into a pond that surrounded an island. Anthony and George had built a sturdy bridge over to the island. Vibrant flowers grew out of the walls and from the ground. Fireflies buzzed around, lighting up the area. A few lanterns hung around. The open roof gave them a perfect view of the stars.

"My feet hurt," George frowned as he flopped onto the grass.

"You say that every time," Anthony sat next to him, "I tell you to change your shoes every time. But you always go, 'Oh I'm George! I can handle anything! Blah blah blah'!"

"I don't sound like that!" George flicked Anthony's cheek.

"Yes, you do! I would know because I have known you all my life!" the knight reasoned.

"Well I'm me. I'd know what I sound like."

Anthony just rolled his eyes jovially before laying his head down on George's stomach. George's fingers immediately fell into their place, running through the boys soft hair. He took it out of the small bun it was in, letting it fall wherever it wanted. He'd mess it up anyway.

They had been here since they were 7. It was an accidental find. They were running around chasing each other on the outskirts of the castle. George had tagged Anthony a little too hard, causing him to fall over and tumble through the vines. They marked it theirs and it hadn't changed since.

"Do you think about the stars often?" Anthony asked at a whisper. His hand was pointed at the sky, his fingers connecting the stars like a connect-the-dots puzzle.

"Not really. They just sit there and be pretty."

"Like you?"

George jeered, holding back a smile. "Quit it."

"You know you like it!" Anthony retorted.

George shoved him gently. It didn't budge him much since he was basically glued to his spot on George. Anthony looked up at the king with a snarky smile and wide, vibrant eyes. His eyes twinkled with the stars. They were like the gateway to a whole different universe. A pool, George could step in and be transported to a new galaxy.

He could envision that galaxy. The sky so full of star gardens that they were brighter than the sun. Milky ways that went on for miles and miles. The grass moving with the breeze under his feet. There was no one there.

The wind sang through the tree leaves. Flower petals danced around in the sky. George could feel the front in his brown hair. The smell of fresh air in his nose. It was an almost perfect world.

The crunching of leaves and dirt behind him. Was it a bunny? A wild cat? Just a sheep eating.

A hand rested on his shoulder. George looked over to meet Anthony.

Anthony didn't look at him, though. He stared into the lost cosmos that sat before them. His eyes shone just as vibrantly. There were no thoughts running through his head. Just the draft in his dirty blonde hair, trying to push past the raised hood he wore on his head. How could a single set of eyes carry such a beautiful, peaceful world that they couldn't even go to?

Now it was a perfect universe.

"Actually, I do think about the stars a lot," George changed his answer. He didn't think about the stars over his head. His star was on his stomach, looking up at him with a glowing smile.

Anthony's eyebrows knitted together, his head tilting along in his confusion. "Why so sudden the change of answer?"

George now looked up at the sea above them. "No reason. I just realized I do. Seeing the stars is like temporary freedom."

"Yeah," Anthony breathed quietly. He turned back to a comfortable spot on his friend.

A perfect world was just an isolated island with no one but him and his love. No one but George and his knight. No star could ever lead them there, though. It was just a fantasy all in George's head.

"King George, the Greatest, richest, and most beautiful king in all the land," Anthony started quietly. It was like a secret. No one was meant to hear, even when no one was around. "Undefeatable King George. Every one thinks he's all high and mighty."

"What are you getting at, Anthony?" George cocked an eyebrow, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Is spending his night with one of his own working men. How bizarre is that?" George bit his lip, unsure why Anthony thought that this was weird. This was normal for them after all.

"Not bizarre at all. There's no where I'd rather be than with you. Who cares about a reputation? Or what my life is in there? We aren't there right now. Just forget about your life for a moment, Anthony," George went on unconsciously, "breathe in the air of being a different person than the man you are in there. Uptight and stubborn around your crew. You're free around me. You let yourself go when the daylight is gone. The night transforms you into the Anthony I know and like."

"The night is a dangerous creature. Don't let it catch you off guard," was all Anthony answered. But George could see the content smile.

They sat in comfortable silence. The only sounds were the chirping crickets, the croaking of frogs, and the buzzing of light bugs. The water flow was complacent and gentle as it streamed into the

"Do you love me?" George asked slowly, breaking the silent barrier around them.

Anthony didn't answer for a moment. Was it okay to love George? Or was it an unforgivable crime he couldn't get himself out of?

"Yeah. I do love you," Anthony answered with false confidence. He didn't regret his truthful words, but he hid behind a mask of fear. Afraid his words will travel too far in the wind and make their way into the wrong persons hands. But George wasn't the wrong person. He was anything but that.

"Good."

"Cocky," Anthony teased.

"I just think everyone should love me!"

Anthony rose up off of George, which caused the boy to follow suit and sit up. He pounced on George, tackling him onto his back once again.

"You know I love you more than everyone else," he purred quietly over George. One of their hands were intertwined, Georges elbow trapped on the ground while his arm was upward and tangled with the other's fingers. Anthony's other hand dug into the grass beside him, maintaining his balance.

"You do?" George challenged.

"Of course I do."

"I know."

Anthony gave him a final smirk before rolling off of him. "It's late. You have to be up early."

"Right. We should go then." George stood up and dusted himself off. Anthony waited beside him and took his hand when he was finished.

George always took them on the trip there. George was the escape, the run away from the busy life they lived in the castle. Anthony was the return, the grounding that led them back where they belonged.

Anthony never tugged George along, though; he wasn't eager to return. George always dragged Anthony when they made the trip. The king was always bubbling to go but never to return.

An owl chirped as they passed by. Their footsteps scared it off, causing it to fly away and to never be seen again.

"I didn't know owls lived out here," George mentioned.

"It's a forest George, of course there's going to be owls," Anthony chuckled sarcastically.

George rolled his eyes.

The walk back was always silent. The two were either caught up in the thoughts that circled their minds after the night. Or the darkness cut off the ability to speak at the feeling someone was always watching.

"I'll wake you up in a few hours," Anthony spoke the minute they reached the corridor to George's room. "As soon as the sun comes up."

"At least it's your face that I get to see first thing in the morning. Not some old butler." George giggled, high off of sleep deprivation. Anthony softly dusted some stray hairs out of Georges face.

"Goodnight, George." he smiled tenderly at the king, letting his hand fall down Georges soft face before detaching from him.

"Night, night, Anthony." George grabbed Anthony's hand and squeezed it gently before disappearing into his bedroom. Completely locked away for the night behind the wooden door.

Anthony knew he wouldn't be able to sleep the rest of the night. He couldn't move for a while after George left. The hand from before was pressed to his chest, covered by his other. A gentle smile didn't leave his face.

George was his everything. His star, he thought about all too often.

He tore himself out of the trance. His feet sent him on a normal night shift route. He circled the castle slowly, checking every hallway and open room for invaders.

He jumped at the sound of creeping floors from behind him. He flew behind a pillar, peaking his head out to keep an eye pealed. He grabbed the shaft of his sword, ready to draw it if needed be.

A light flickered in a hallway nearby, illuminating the dark that was once there. It got brighter and brighter. And closer.

Smoke began filling the air. Anthony looked around as the castle began to erupt into more flames by the second. Maids, butlers, and knights emerged from their rooms in a panic.

"Everyone out. Now!" Anthony shouted, shoving the sword back into it's sheath.

Cries of children echoed throughout the place. Women's shrieks filled the once quiet room. Servants rushed around, gathering as much as they could before running for an exit. He needed everyone to be safe. It was his job.

The knight wasted no time. He hastily knocked on every door that was around him, making sure it was empty. He was pushed around by scattered people, fighting for their own life.

Wooden planks began collapsing, only spreading the fire further and faster. He had no time. "George!" Anthony called, cupping his hands over his mouth. "George!" He yelled again. He could only hope his king wasn't trapped somewhere inescapable. He kept his focus on the best-case scenario.

He muttered curses to himself as he ran in the direction the king should be. "George!"

"Anthony?" Anthony stopped at the sound of Georges weak yelp. "Anthony, where are you?"

His thoughts were racing. Every moment he ever spent with George played in his head like a never ending movie.

The long talks into the early mornings.

The fencing training. Anthony always won the fencing battles. George would throw a fit, and Anthony would have to let him win at least once.

The time George refused to abandon the baby bird he found on the ground until they returned it to it's parents.

George's sixteenth birthday. He had fought a guard for an hour before eventually sneaking Anthony in. He was his first dance of the night. And when they got chances out of the ball hall, they hid in the garden for the rest of the night. They made slingshots to shoot pebbles at the guards every time they walked by.

And Georges coronation. The biggest day of the king's life. He remembered calming the boy's nerves thirty minutes before he was being crowned. He remember keeping his eyes locked on George the entire time. And when the after-party came, George refused to leave Anthony's side.

Anthony was honoured as George's knight a week after that. The royal titles never altered their relationship. They were still George and Anthony, hand in hand against the world.

Anthony didn't answer George's calls; he pivoted in his spot and searched for him. Through the smoke, he saw a figure wobble helplessly through the cloudy space.

"Anthony?" George yelled again.

"George!" Anthony blinked out of his mind. He hopped over a board and dashed toward the boy. He grabbed his hand and ran for it. And he didn't stop running. Not once did he look back. He had George. George was safe. That's all that mattered.

Anthony just about collapsed once he got outside of the burning castle. He fell to his knees, panting heavily from running and the smoke in his lungs.

"Shit..," Anthony coughed. "Are you okay?" He squinted his eyes shut, and pressed his hands down on his knees.

"We're okay," said a timid maid, clearly scared out of her mind. She sounded weak and hopeless. "Where's the king...?"

Anthony's eyes flew open. What? He was with him! They were together! Anthony jumped to his feet and searched around. What happened...

"Anthony!" A loud cry came from inside the flames. He lost George.

Anthony's breath hitched. Was this it? It couldn't be the end. Not for King George. He still had so much for him. They would rebuild. Capture whoever did this. Or...they could run away. Live the free life they always wanted.

Anthony's mind raced as he ran back into the inferno. He was crazy enough for George, even if it meant risking his life. He didn't care. He had to get George out of there. He had a life to live as king. He had people to rule.

Everything was just a haze. He couldn't see through the smoke and the dirty tears that glossed his eyes. He couldn't feel anything, but the burning in his lungs and the collapsing of his heart as the time ticked and George wasn't in his arms.

There was a figure on the ground. Anthony didn't think twice about whether that body was alive or not.

"George!" Anthony whimpered. He scooped up the boy and ran toward the nearest exit. He ran out the outskirts of the castle, and he didn't stop running until his legs failed him. Lost in a forest far away, nothing but him and George.

"George..?" Anthony choked, looking down at the burnt up boy that lay in front of him. "Stay with me...It'll be okay George.."'

Silence. Nothing but silence. And the hooting of an owl far, far away. Anthony went numb. He couldn't have been too late...there was no way.

He started down at the soil under him. His mind was running a million miles an hour, but at the same time, it was completely empty.

"...'tony?" George coughed out hoarsely, opening his eyes slowly. Anthony's head shot up, a relieved smile following.

"George! George you're alive!" Anthony let out a hearty, overjoyed laugh. "Thank god! I..I thought I lost you!"

"What....What happened?" George murmured weakly.

"I...I don't know. Someone set the castle on fire and I went to grab you—I..I did! And we were running, but I somehow lost you, and so I went back and saved you and now we are here..!" Anthony stammered over his words, barely even grasping the situation himself.

George's eyes fell shut again. His eyelids were too heavy for him to keep open. "Thank you..."

"We'll be able to build a new castle! It'll be alright! We're safe, that's what matters right now. We'll catch the bastards who did this too," he cheered, getting ahead of himself.

"No."

The knight froze, taking a second to process George's rejection. "Oh...Okay? You don't want another castle...," a grin found its way back on Anthony's mud and ash-covered face. "We'll run away. We can get far away from here. We can be free. We can live the life we talked about as kids, remember? No one will find us. We can build a small house in the forest. Be new people! Just you and me George...Remember that?" His hopeful tone left his words the more he pressed on. He couldn't keep a smile on his face. The more he looked at George the worse he felt. The more guilty he felt.

"No..."

"What..?" Anthony furrowed his brows, his smile falling dishearteningly. "George what...? We...We can do whatever you want...Stay with me George.."

"Leave me here..'tony.." George coughed weakly. He was breathing slowly but too heavily to be healthy. He was filled with ash and smoke.

Anthony delicately grabbed one of Georges hands, which was almost burnt to crisp. "No...No, no, I'm not leaving you here. George you're okay...You're going to be okay." Tears filled the brims of his eyes, he bit on his lip to try to contain himself, but they slipped past his efforts anyway. Watery trails paved their way down Anthony's cheeks. "George don't leave me..."

"Promise me that you'll be okay," George said quietly. No soul would be able to hear him unless they were nothing more than a few inches away. "'tony.."

Anthony nodded hastily. "Please, George..Please..," he croaked desperately, "you can't leave me. George, it's going to be okay. You can hold on, I know you can."

"I love you," George breathed. The world around them fell silent. Anthony choked back his sobs. His grip on the lifeless king's hand got tighter. He couldn't let go.

Anthony leaned forward and kissed him softly. A sacred kiss, a first kiss, he was saving until they were living their dream life. Secluded from society, just the two of them against the world.

But that wouldn't happen anymore. The twinkle in him died with George. The sky was cloudy, the stars covered by smoke.

He held George close to him, hugging him tightly. He let himself go, collapsing into choked sobs. He didn't care who could hear him now.

Anthony tore himself from his lover's body. He drew his sword and walked toward his beloved village. His sadness turned into rage. Thirsty for revenge.

A barn owl perched on Anthony's shoulder.

He could smell the smoke and see the remains of his castle as he approached the town.

Written across a remaining wall, Blood For The Blood God.