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[delimeful]

give me mercy no more (1)

G/t July Day 1: Enchanted

(Full Prompt List)

patron prompt: virgil hugging a crying janus!

warnings: arguing, tension, betrayal, mentions of assassinations, offscreen character thomas, it's a g/t fic but i didn't actually get to the g/t yet LOL, self sacrifice, crying, angst

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“You can’t do this.”

Janus paused for the briefest moment at the sound of his closest friend’s voice, before continuing to pack away rations.

“Can’t I?” he asked airily, not turning around to face Virgil.

He’d known this confrontation was inevitable since they’d come up with the only possible solution to their kingdom’s problem. He hadn’t realized how unprepared he’d feel even now, with the hour of tribute rapidly approaching.

“It’s not right. Thomas needs you,” Virgil insisted, stepping closer.

Without even looking at him, Janus could picture the scowl he was wearing. Terrified and defiant in the face of impossible odds, as always.

Bringing up the heir apparent was a low blow, however.

“Yes, he does,” Janus snapped, a bite to the words. “Do you think anything else on this continent or any other could possibly move me to do something like this?”

A short, stagnant pause as Virgil struggled to find a retort.

“His Highness will be alright,” Janus added, softer. “Of course he will. You’ll be there at his side.”

A year ago, the idea of trusting any of the knights of this kingdom would have been laughable at best. The Sanders kingdom was a pit of vipers, and Janus had blended in with the best of them, climbing the ranks to the position of advisor through means that would make any moral man weep.

He’d still only barely been in time to prevent Thomas from perishing in a political assassination, one initiated by the same mage faction that had orphaned the young boy originally.

Janus didn’t have to do any investigation to learn that particular tidbit; it was an illuminating and concerning letter from the queen, an old friend of his, that had brought him back to the kingdom.

He’d been too late to save her. He’d made sure that the same couldn’t be said for her son.

Back then, he and Virgil had constantly been at each other’s throats, both expecting the other to betray the prince at any moment. Virgil saw right through Janus’ sly facades, and Janus knew that the rank and file of the kingdom’s army were only loyal to the highest bribe.

That was what they’d thought, anyhow.

When the next attempt rolled around, Virgil had been forcefully diverted from his usual patrol route, and was halfway across the grounds when the alarm was raised.

He’d torn through any opponent in his way in a desperate frenzy, and burst into the prince’s quarters expecting to see the worst.

Instead, he’d found Thomas whole and unharmed, positioned solidly behind Janus, who stood ready with two narrow, poisoned blades. The room already had a handful of would-be assassins collapsed on the ground, some in the same exact livery Virgil wore.

“Come and try,” Janus had hissed, keenly aware of the slash along his side and the way blood was already darkening his doublet.

Virgil, bigger and stronger and less winded even after a sprint across the kingdom, had taken two steps forward and knelt before him, head bowed.

The fool. Janus had almost stabbed him on reflex alone.

“Thank you,” he’d said, the back of his neck well and truly exposed, “for protecting him.”

Janus wasn’t used to being trusted. It had thrown him off for long enough that he’d stayed his blade, and before he knew it, Virgil had managed to worm his way under his defenses and become not only a trusted ally, but a snarky, paranoid, invaluable friend.

They grew to be called the Two Hands of the Future King, a title probably invented by some of the more pretentious court nobles. Virgil hated the attention, and Janus leaned into it just to annoy him.

They’d have to come up with something different, after Janus was gone. He wondered if his death would be referred to as something garishly insensitive, like The Amputation. Hopefully not; Virgil might actually come to blows if he heard that sort of thing.

He dragged his mind out of the past, sliding another ration he would likely never eat into his bag with the same smooth calculation he’d done everything else in his life.

“Besides, there’s no cause to be dramatic. I’ll be fine,” he said, voice full of a certainty he didn’t feel.

He held his breath as Virgil stood silently at his back for a long moment. His lies had never worked on the knight, but now he silently begged that for once, Virgil wouldn’t shatter the illusion. That he wouldn’t make this harder than it needed to be.

“Tell me how you plan to convince them,” Virgil finally said.

Janus let out a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “I already went over my strategy at the council meeting, didn’t I?”

“I was too pissed off to pay attention,” Virgil replied bluntly. “Tell me again. The way you’ll tell the beast.”

It was a rare occasion for Virgil to want to embrace a lie instead of the painful truth. Janus could grant him that, at least.

“With the damages from the invasion, we find ourselves unable to provide our usual tribute without starving to death ourselves,” Janus began, the speech long-memorized in the agonizing past week of waiting. “In order to preserve the existence of our kingdom, and by extension, the existence of your future tributes many years to come, we have provided an alternative offering that we hope will please you.”

He turned and spread his hands in an elegant flourish, his posture loose and pointedly unwary. “Along with precious heirloom riches, you are offered His Highness's own most trusted advisor, with vast wisdom and knowledge gathered from this continent and others.”

To do with as you please, he completed silently in his head. That would be no comfort to Virgil.

After all, everyone knew what most dragons pleased to do to humans that inconvenienced them.

Virgil stared at him with a deep wrinkle in his brow for a moment, and then snorted. “I should have guessed that you would flatter yourself even in a time like this.”

Janus smirked, repeating his favorite retort. “I speak only the truth, Honored Knight, and I’d thank you not to imply otherwise.”

Virgil smiled despite himself, but as the silence stretched it collapsed into an expression much more desolate.

“I’ll be perfectly fine,” Janus lied, and then, after a beat of hesitation, lifted his arms in a wordless offering.

Virgil crashed into the hug with enough force to nearly bowl Janus over, but he didn’t bother with a single complaint, only savored the warmth of his best friend safe in his arms.

He was doing this for both of them. His two most important people.

They stood like that for a long moment, and then with a low, pained sigh, Janus began to pull back.

Only to find that his limbs had gone strangely numb.

A jolt of surprise went through him, but all Virgil did was slowly shift them over to the nearby armchair, giving him somewhere to sit heavily as the prickling feeling spread further through his body.

“Something’s wrong,” he managed through lips he could barely feel.

Virgil, usually so quick to check him over at even the slightest sign of injury, spent a moment longer with his head tucked over his shoulder before withdrawing.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and his eyes were eerily lit up from within by magecraft. “But we both know who Thomas needs more. And it’s not me.”

The enchantment didn’t hurt. It settled soft and heavy on him like a blanket with the weight of stone, keeping him stuck in place even as his mind began to shriek.

“How?” he managed.

“I was born into a bloodline with the gift. Got kicked out. I didn’t want anyone to know,” Virgil said, letting a few sparks flick off his fingers. “I probably could have told you, I was just… afraid, I guess. I know it’s not fair to ask, but don’t tell Thomas? I don’t want to bring back bad memories for the kid.”

Janus had moved rapidly from shock to anger, not at the secret of Virgil’s nature, but at what exactly he planned to do with it.

“Don’t,” he said, a desperate tilt to the word even as it came out slightly mangled.

“You were right, Jay,” Virgil said with a wry tilt of his lips. “You’ll be fine. So take care of him, okay?”

Janus managed the slightest shake of his head, and whatever expression he was making was enough to make Virgil’s own composure crack slightly.

“You hypocrite,” he said, voice choked, and pulled him into another hug.

Janus hadn’t wept when he’d realized that the only way to keep Thomas safe was to sacrifice himself.

Now, with Virgil’s arms wrapped around him, he felt his stinging eyes spill over.

His breath hitched, the only version of a sob that could make it through his body’s current stasis.

“I know,” Virgil murmured, clutching him tightly. “I know. I won’t change my mind, but I’m sorry. I don’t— I don’t want to leave. But I have to.”

He couldn’t do anything to stop this, Janus realized blankly. He could only clutch back at his best friend’s arms with the barest curling of his numb fingers. He could only see the slight tremors that shook through Virgil’s frame, the pallid cast to his skin.

He could only watch as Virgil released him, picked up his bag and walked to the door, stopped to look at him with fear and stubbornness in equal measure.

“I’ll see you around,” he said simply, giving him a simple salute and a small smile.

And then he was gone.

#sanders sides g/t #ts virgil #ts janus #fantasy au #g/t july #g/t july 2023 #my writing #writing #give me mercy no more #gmmnm #posted late again. sory. #“why are you posting g/t july in september” this is an ADHD task completion simulator and you're all invited to participate