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hopefulromances · 7 months

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The Song Of Jamie Tartt - Colin Hughes x Jamie Tartt

Summary: Colin Hughes falls in love with the half-god Jamie Tartt.

Triggers: This is based on the Song of Achilles so there is canon typical violence, bloodshed, and character death. If any of these topics may trigger or upset you, please pass on this one.

Word Count: 7.1k

I am 14 when we meet. He can’t be older than 12 and already he is taller and stronger than most of boys my age. He has an easy charisma that draws all the boys to his side from the moment he steps in the door. His hair is longer than most. Not too long but enough that it spills into his eyes when he’s not careful, causing him to brush it back with his hand. He smiles easily while the rest of us struggle to keep up in our training and everything he is irritates me.

His cocky laugh that carried throughout the room, his toothy smile that took over his face when he watches them scramble over themselves to talk to him, the way his eyes light up when he hits the target right on the mark. Which happens all the time as he seems to be a natural at everything he does. Running, shooting, throwing. Things that took the rest of us months to master he seems to manage in a week or less.

It’s not long before his mother removes him from our standard practices to a more advanced study. Jamie’s mother, Georgia, is our host, of course. The kind and benevolent benefactor of all the boys. She clothed, fed, and housed us our whole time as boys. We rarely saw her though, instead, we were overseen by Rebecca, who made sure we kept to our studies, training, and eating regime.

Once Jamie is removed from our training courses, we see less of him. Mainly for meal times, where he spends his time entertaining and showing off to anyone who will watch him. I don’t watch him. I refuse to watch him throw dates in the air before catching them in his mouth. Up in the air, hanging just for a moment before falling into his lips for an easy swallow.

“Colin” he calls to me one day.

I barely have time to look up when he’s tossing a date in my direction. I flounder, reaching up to catch it in my hand. He smiles at me, nodding, clearly pleased that I was able to catch the date. I hate the way his approval sends a pang of electricity down my chest.

Those days, when we were young, the boys often spent time outside in the sun and the grass. Spending their time wrestling, climbing, and chasing. I didn’t want to do those sorts of things. When the sun was out and the wind was blowing, I prefer to sit under a tree and watch the waves hit the surf on the beach down the cliffside.

I’d turn and see him watching me. Pausing whatever game he and the boys were playing to look over my way, to check on me, it seemed. I didn’t know why he was drawn to me, the same reason I didn’t know why I could always feel the second his stormy eyes were trained on my head.

Whatever the reason, when I turned to look over at him, he never turned away as you might expect. Never flinched at the realization he’d been caught. He’d just smile. Not one of his large cocky smiles that he always seemed to wear. But a smaller, softer smile.

I am 15 when he comes to me after training one day. His mother sent him to question my lack of performance in recent months. How embarrassing is it that I’m being told off by my younger? I wave him off, some excuse of fatigue and lactic acid falling off my tongue.

He watches me carefully as I speak and he knows what I’m saying isn’t true. The truth was I wasn’t performing as well because I was not as good. Not as good as the other boys. Not as good as Jamie, and it was affecting me.

“You’ll join me tomorrow.”

He says it casually as if it was the next step in my journey to join him. I shook my head, insisting that it wasn’t necessary. That I would just need some time to recover from the months of strenuous training but he just shook his head.

When he said I’d join him, he really meant that I would come and watch him train. I didn’t mind so much, not having to train rigorously every day and watching Jamie was… something else entirely. He’d improved in the year since he’d left our training. If it were even possible, he moved swifter, more fluid in his spear-throwing and sword-wielding. His muscles flexed and moved in just the right way to make his body look like it was floating on air.

His personal trainer, Roy, was much less forgiving than the general trainer was. Roy kept him on a stricter regime. More training, fewer dates and it seemed to have results.

I found myself wondering, as I watched the two of them spar if Jamie ever missed being just a boy. Just someone who laughed and played in the sun. But watching him light up as he trained, it was easy to see that it wasn’t a chore for him. He savored every ache and pain that wracked his body when he trained, and searched for them. The same pain I’d been complaining back when he asked me to join him.

He began joining me at meals as well. Sitting with me while he ate his special meals, the rest of us surviving on the same lamb and dates that he had before starting his training with Roy. The other boys began flocking to my table, grasping for his attention but he barely looked at them. His attention remained mainly on me, asking me about my home and my family. Soon the other boys didn’t bother coming over to our table anymore.

So, I told him. I told him about growing up not far from here and my younger sister who lived back at home. I told him about my love of music and watching the stars at night. He always listened, his face kind as he did. The more he asked, the more I talked and the closer we got.

I realized, then, that he wasn’t at all that I’d thought of him. He was boyish and sweet, just another kid who wanted to spend time with his friends. He was eager to please and desperate to perform above the average. He told me of his dreams of being a legend for generations. Someone who was recognized for their skills and prowess. I told him that he would be, I could see it written in the stars.

I’m 16 when he asks me to join him in his room. He had his own room, seeing as his mother owned the property. His room was much larger with a porch and skylight accenting the room. I stand awkwardly in it, feeling unwelcome in such a refined space that differs from the crowded quarters the rest of the boys and I stayed in. But he called me over to his porch where he dug through a bin he had.

When I sat, he finally found what he was looking for. A wooden lyre, similar to one my sister played growing up. He comes and sits next to me.

“A lyre?”

“You said you liked music.”

I didn’t realize he remembered. In one of our first conversations I mentioned, off-handedly, that I used to like to listen to my sister play the lyre. The comforting sounds always relaxed me after a long day.

“I did”

He came over and laid down next to me, his head resting on my shoulder. I froze as he did unsure of how I should react to the touch. But he didn’t notice, or if he did, he didn’t react, he just began to strum the instrument. I looked down at him as he played, his fingers floating just like the rest of him. I don’t know if he’d picked it up when I mentioned it, but if I did, he’d learned very quickly, as always.

And as he played, I felt myself relax. It was a nice day. The sun warm on our skin, the wind keeping the heat from swelling, and the sound of the lyre filled the air around us. Soon he began to sing softly as well. His voice surprised me. It was soft and full of emotion. It was just a hum or a lullaby, but whatever it was he sang remarkably well. I felt, for a moment, annoyed that this was just another thing that Jamie was effortlessly good at but soon my irritation melted into appreciation. He shared this talent with me, just me, and all was right.

He invited me to stay in his room that night. He wanted me to show him the stars, tell him the stories they held. He laid very close to me, our heads almost touching. I pointed out the constellations I knew and the stories they held. Heracles and Orion. Achilles and Patroclus. The stories of love and tragedy that filled the skies. He asked me, then, why so many of them ended in tragedy.

“I suppose that the stories come from people who haven’t been happy, so they don’t know how happiness ends,” I told him.

“How does happiness end?”

I pondered his question for a minute. How did happiness end?

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I reckon it’s when you’re with the person who makes you feel safe, and you know you can never be parted again.”

“Do you think happiness ends in death?” Jamie asks, looking down at me. His nose brushes my head and I don’t dare look up to meet his eyes.

“I suppose it can.”

After that, I stay in his room more often and eventually end up sleeping there permanently. The other boys feel jealous but I don’t mind. Jamie is a puzzle I don’t mind solving. Day after day he reveals a new piece something else that makes him more full. A dazzling spectacle of colors and shapes that made up Jamie.

It’s not long after that I learn about his father. A god of deceit and mischief who required weekly meetings with Jamie. He was a hateful god, one of the lower ones, who, I learned, pushed Jamie to be more, be better, be the best. Jamie’s aspirations felt tainted when I learned that, but Jamie wanted them in spite of his father. He wanted to be good, and kind. He wanted to be a legend in the image of his love, not of his hate.

It made Jamie’s talent and abilities that much more impressive to me. His father was a spiteful thing, jealous of his son’s abilities, and Jamie was so kind and hopeful. Jamie made it his duty to be better to be happy. And I was happy being around him. Seeing him smile. Seeing him laugh. It was music to my ears to hear.

I am 17 when he comes home from a visit with his father. This time he seems particularly angry. When he came home from his visits, he was usually upset, angry, and frustrated. Something about not being enough. Strong enough, fast enough, smart enough. Whatever it was, he wasn’t enough. But today seemed particularly angry.

He came into the room, throwing a rock at the floor. It shocked me from the daze that I’d fallen into on his bed, forcing me to pay attention as he stalked into the room. He didn’t acknowledge me as he walked to the steps on his porch. I approached him cautiously, not wanting to send him running from me.

Instead, I came and sat behind him slightly.

“Are you alright, Jamie?”

“He talked about you.”

I wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t aware that Jamie’s father even knew I existed. But he was talking to his father about me. And now his father was talking to him about me.

“Oh.” Was all I could say.

“Said I’m going soft. Says I’m… weak because of how I feel.”

I felt my forehead wrinkle. How he feels? How does he feel? I moved down to sit on the step next to him. He stared straight ahead, at the field that led down to the sea. Past the tree where I used to sit and he would stare.

“Jamie?”

Instead of turning towards me, he looked down at the floor. The dust settling as the wind died down and the world stood still in anticipation of Jamie’s response.

“How do you feel?” I asked him.

Jamie looked over at me, his eyes searching mine. Without meaning to, I surged forward and captured his lips in mine. He froze for just a moment before bringing a hand up to grasp at my chin, holding my head in his hand.

I’m 17 and I kiss Jamie under the orange light of the setting sun.

In looking back those are the times I like to remember. When Jamie would come to me for comfort after visiting his father, or the times when the rain prevented us from training, so we would sit on the porch and watch the wave of the wind over the fields.

I think he liked those times, too. As much as he loved to entertain and show off in front of the boys, he also liked when he could lay his head in my lap and be quiet. Watching the world spin by in front of us. I would run my hands through his hair, allowing him to just be still for a moment. I think he lked that.

As I fell, I felt myself wondering if Icarus. As my wings burned up with the desire from his sun, I had no choice but to let gravity take me as I plummeted ever quicker into his wicked soul.

I was 18 when the war began. Though we are all called to fight, Jamie is called to lead. He tells me I don’t have to come. That he could command me to stay behind and watch over the house while they’re all away. As if I could let him leave me now as if he’s not the light that leads me forward. But I told him the truth. I would follow him to the ends of the earth and the off of them if it meant we could stay together. That comforted Jamie.

He’s only 16. Very young and being asked to step up and not only fight in a war but lead it as well. I can tell it weighs on him, as much as he puts on a happy face. But I can read him and the smaller expressions that go by the common eye. I see the flicker of disdain and fear that lingers at the end of his sentences.

We had one last night together in Jamie’s room before we left. It was raining. As if the very sky wept for the innocence that had been Jamie’s life that was now gone. I held him in my arms as he lay against me on the steps of his porch, watching the soft pattering of drops on the grass in front of us. His grey eyes matched the stormy sky in color and feel.

“Jamie, you are allowed to be afraid,” I said to him, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

He didn’t look up at me, just kept staring out at the field. “If I’m afraid, what does that make you?”

As well as I knew Jamie, he knew me even better. He was trying to be strong for me. Not for the war efforts or for himself, he wanted to be brave so I wasn’t afraid. I felt the tremble of the thunder roll through me as I held him tighter in my arms. Whatever happened in the years of the war, I knew, above all, that I needed to protect that boy inside Jamie. I needed to ensure that, at war's end, Jamie could still be the boy who came to my arms for comfort in a rain storm.

I remember the first time Jamie came home from a raid. They only sent the strongest out at first. Jamie, Isaac, Roy, and some of the other stronger men go and raid the nearby villages. When Jamie returned home, he was ragged and covered in blood that was not his own.

I reached for him but he flinched away, going off into the field behind our tent. He sat there, knees to his chest as he tried to steady his breathing. I followed him, approaching him cautiously so as to not alarm him. I sat down next to him, giving him space between us but still close enough that he knew I was there.

“I was very good,” he said finally. I nodded at him. I figured he would be, but he was so young. Too young to be expected to be good at this sort of thing. “My father was proud.”

He started shaking and I couldn’t leave him any longer. I took him in my arms, pulling him to my chest. He was half lying on me as he clutched my shirt, his tears staining the frock. But I didn’t care, I held him there, kissing his forehead for reassurance.

“We could leave,” I murmured to him. “We could run away, just the two of us. I’d keep you safe.”

Jamie managed a weak laugh as he looked up at me. He reached up and touched my face, the look in his eyes could only be described as longing. He leaned up the rest of the way and pressed his lips to mine.

When he kissed me, the world could burn, the winds could turn, the tide could change and I would stay there in the palm of his hand.

“Colin,” he muttered against my lips. “You know we can’t.”

I pulled away from him, disappointed. I knew in my soul that I would never be able to pull Jamie away from his fight. To protect the innocent, to fight alongside our brothers. But I wished for one second that Jamie could be selfish. But that’s not who he was.

The war went long. Much longer than we were all expecting. In the beginning, Jamie seemed to flourish under the pressure. He was thrown into the thick of it, rising above the scuffle and the flurry to really shine above the rest. He was a wonder to watch, quick and passionate in his defense of our city. I’d find myself stopping to watch him, inspiring as he was, as he flew across the battlefield.

But as the battle wore on, he became less forward about the whole affair. He still dominated the field and inspired his fellow men, but it was less frequent. We had our own setup, we called it the Dogtrack. We and many of the boys we grew up with had our tents set up together with a fire in the middle, somewhere we could decompress and have some semblance of home.

Those were the times I could ensure Jamie was taking care of himself. When we were out by the fire, Jamie would lead the boys in songs and dances, getting even the grumpiest of men to smile. But later, when I’d pull him back into our tent, I’d take him in my arms and let him relax. Sometimes he would cry, but sometimes he would just sit in silence and stare into the darkness. Those were the times that really scared me. Whatever he’d seen, or done, in the raid that day had rendered him speechless.

I am 25 and the war still wages. Jamie still leads his own group of men who stay by his side through all of it, but a new group joins our team. This group is led by Zava, an egotistical older man who was known throughout the land for his talent on the field. Jamie greets him as a brother but Zava meets him as a solider, immediately looking down on the younger boy.

That’s when things shifted in the camp. The home we’d created started to feel more divided as men flocked to Zava’s side to fight by him. Jamie tried to remain level-headed and keep to his own, continuing to perform at his normal high quality. But it seemed that this war was more for Zava, a place to make himself big and others small.

It started out slight. Zava starts competitions with Jamie to see who could kill more on the battlefield. Then it started becoming more aggressive, with Zava taunting Jamie in front of the men, in the midst of battle, goading him to go further, faster, taking on more than he could handle.

“Don’t let his childish insults get to you, Jamie,” I insisted as I wrapped his hands, chapped and cracking with wounds.

Jamie smoldered, his pride getting the better of him. “He’s not here to protect, or defend. He’s here to bloat his ego.”

I rubbed his hand as I finished my wrapping. He was right, of course, Zava was just here to prove his worth. He walked around the camp as he owned it, his posse following along behind him like his very steps were made of gold. I heard the rumors, the mumblings that he and Jamie were very similar. But I didn’t see it. Sure, Jamie was incredible on the field of battle but he also supported the people around him. He didn’t kill if he didn’t have to and he certainly didn’t make a competition out of it.

“You know who you are, Jamie, in here,” I pressed my hand to his chest. “Don’t let him take that away from you.”

He rested his hand over mine, the fire in his eyes fading as he looked at me. He softened finally, bringing my hand to his lips. He kissed my palm, then each of my knuckles. Then he pulled me into his chest, kissing me passionately. I brought my hand up to tangle my fingers in his walnut-colored tips. He laid down, pulling me down on top of him, his chest rumbling with a soft chuckle as we disappeared into the grass.

I felt confident that as long as I could ground Jamie at the end of each day I could maintain that innocence inside him. But I think that night was one of the last times I held on to that. The last time I held him tight in my arms insuring him that we would be okay. But, like sand in an hourglass, the tighter I held the faster he fell.

We woke up together, Jamie’s arm tightening around my waist before he stretched up. I was looking forward to a good morning before having to head to the battlefield for the day. But that thought was quickly interrupted when Isaac came running in through the front flap of the tent.

“Jamie,” he called. “Zava’s leaving.”

Jamie sat up out of the bed, going to meet Isaac. “What do you mean, leaving?”

“He’s taking his men and going. He said…” Isaac glanced towards me.

Jamie’s fists clenched. “What did he say?”

“He said he didn’t want to fight alongside a coward who spends his days getting fucked by his men.” Jamie’s fists turned white and he pushed past Isaac. I jumped out of the bed and raced to stop him, grabbing him by his shoulder but he shrugged me off.

“Jamie, don’t, let him go,” I insisted, pushing myself in front of him. “We don’t need him.”

Jamie looked over at me, his jaw clenched. “I’m the coward? He’s the one leaving when we need him the most.”

“You’re right, he is the coward,” I agreed, I grasped at his arms, begging him with my eyes. “Please don’t go to him.”

For a second, I thought he might. But then he was shoving me aside and leaving the tent. I cursed loudly, shooting a glare at Isaac as if it was somehow his fault. I raced out of the tent going to follow Jamie.

“Zava!” Jamie shouted once he’d made it to the center of camp. Zava emerged from his tent, smiling smugly as he saw Jamie.

“Ah! Jamie, nice of you to join us this morning,” Zava greeted, holding his arms out in a mock hug. “I thought you might have missed the opportunity to say goodbye.” Zava’s eyes looked over Jamie’s head, falling to me as I approached the area. “And Colin, what a pleasant surprise.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Jamie spat.

Zava frowned, sympathetic in look. “Oh, well, I simply meant you and Colin prefer your solitude with one another, rather than joining the rest of us on the battlefield.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Jamie retorted.

A crowd began to form around us, splitting the camp into sides as the men chose which man to back. I called over to Richard to go and find Ted, the leader of our encampment of men.

“I did not mean to offend,” Zava replied, his voice steady. “You are protecting your beloved from the horrors of tragedy, it is… admirable.

“I’m not protecting anyone from anything, Colin is perfectly capable of defending himself,” Jamie defended.

“Then let him prove it.”

I felt a ball of anxiety drop like a rock into my stomach. I was not in need of defending but whatever Zava had planned, I did not want to find out. Zava went on.

“Let him spar me. Let him prove his worth.”

Zava’s eyes were fixed on me. There was no way I could defeat Zava. I was good at fighting, but not that good. This fight was petty, and he knew it. Jamie stepped in front of me, taking Zava’s eyes off of me.

“You want a fight, Zava, You’ll get one, but not from him,” Jamie growled, his voice dangerously low.

That’s when, thank god, Ted arrived, getting in between the two men, and pushing them apart.

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” he intervened. “Zava, you and your men cannot go. You swore an oath and if you leave your life will be forfeit. Jamie, back down, you’re better than this.”

Jamie’s eyes were hot with anger as he stared at Zava. Zava looked far too calm and collected for a man who was close to getting into a fight with one of the best warriors in the world. Jamie remained unmoved, a statue under Zava’s gaze.

“Please, Ted, it was a jest,” Zava chuckled, looking over at Ted finally. “I would never leave when there is a war to be won.”

Ted clapped him on the shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t now, why don’t you two gentlemen shake hands and makeup.”

“Yes, Jamie,” Zava drawled, sticking his hand out. “Let’s make up.”

I pleaded with Jamie in my mind, begging him to put aside his pride for two seconds and just shake his hand.

“I won’t,” Jamie snarled. “Zava has constantly insulted me and my men, and I won’t have it. I refuse to fight alongside him until he apologizes to me and to Colin.”

I felt the crowd look over at me. I wanted to disappear, I wanted this all to end.

“Come now, Jamie, be a man,” Zava goaded.

Jamie spat on the ground between them. “I won’t step foot on the field until Zava makes amends.”

And with that, Jamie whipped around and stormed off towards our tent. Ted rushed to follow him, begging him to see reason. I stayed frozen in my spot, reeling from what had just happened. Men came running up to me, begging me to talk to Jamie. We wouldn’t win without him, they said, we would be doomed.

I nodded vacantly, reassuring them that I would go talk to him. That I would convince him to return. But I knew that once Jamie’s pride was wounded, there wouldn’t be much I could do to convince him otherwise.

As I left the circle, I felt Zava’s eyes still watching me. If he knew what he had set in motion, I will never know. As I approached our tent, Ted walked out, hands in his pockets. He saw me approaching and gave me a smile.

“How are you doing, Colin?” he asked. I knew he was concerned. Not just about Jamie but about me as well. He was good at reading people's emotions, he always was.

“Uh… yeah, doing alright, I suppose,” I shrugged, rubbing the back of my neck. I paused then, worrying my bottom lip. “But you know there’s not much I can do.”

Ted nodded. “I know there’s not. But you’re going to try anyways, aren’t you?”

I glanced behind him into the tent. I could just make out Jamie’s silhouette looking out the back flap of the tent. I was just a man. I couldn’t convince Jamie to rest most of the time, much less go back on a promise he’d made out of anger.

“I’ll do my best, Ted,” I promised.

“That’s all we can ask.” He rested his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly before taking his leave.

I took a deep breath before entering the tent. Jamie was there, standing and staring at the field behind our tent. I stayed back from him, not wanting to crowd him right now.

“Jamie,” I mustered, softly.

“I know what you’re going to say, Colin,” he interrupted me before I could even try. “And I can’t do it. I can’t go back on what I said.” He turned around, finally, and faced me. His face was hard, no sign of wavering or uncertainty in his features. “He disrespected me, he disrespected you.”

He walked towards me. He reached out for me hesitantly and I let him drag his fingers up my arms before holding on to my shoulders. He rested his forehead against mine and for the first time all day I saw him break from his anger. His thumbs rubbed my skin as he took a shaky breath.

“I know, Jamie, I know,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around his waist. “But I have to ask you anyway.” I looked up at him, my hand reaching up to touch his face. “Jamie, you have to not do this. Please. Not for Zava, but for our friends, our family.”

Jamie sighed, leaning into my hand, and kissing my palm. I thought he might agree and this would all be over.

“I can’t.”

So, he didn’t. He rarely left the tent now, relying on me to get him food and news around the camp. Every day a crowd would gather outside the tent, waiting to see if he would come out but he never did. Every day, I would come home from the camp or from fighting and ask him:

“Please, come out.”

And every day Jamie would take my hand, kiss my face, hold me tight, and say:

“I can’t.”

It turned out that Zava wasn’t as good on his own. Things just got worse as the fighting continued and Jamie continued refusing to fight. People were dying, friends were dying, people we knew. It wore on Jamie, I could tell, but his pride was too strong.

I was out, getting food for Jamie and myself when Ted called me into his tent. I followed him into his tent where Roy and Isaac were waiting for us. I had never been inside Ted’s tent before, usually, only generals were allowed. It was a larger tent, even larger than Jamie and I’s and in the middle, there was a large table with a map and figures on it depicting the ongoing battle.

“Colin, we have a bit of a situation” Ted started, walking around to the far side of the table, leaning against it. “Every day Jamie stays out of the fight, we lose more men. To the battle, to mutiny, and Zava isn’t enough anymore. We’re getting down to our last reserves and they’re going to overpower us soon. We need Jamie.”

I looked over at Roy and Isaac for any support but they stared back at me with the same expression that Ted did, hope. They hoped that I could somehow convince Jamie to join the fight again.

“I think you should be talking to Zava, not me,” I replied, firmly.

The look they exchanged told me they had, and it had not been successful.

“Look, Zava is not the man that Jamie is. Jamie can see reason, and we aren’t sure that Zava can,” Ted explained.

“Jamie has given enough to this war as it is,” I defended, narrowing my eyes. “He’s just a boy, this whole thing cannot rest on him.”

Ted looked at me sympathetically. “But I’m afraid it does.”

I shook my head in disbelief. This group of men would rather force Jamie to fight a war he didn’t want rather than have Zava say a simple apology.

“Colin, listen, I don’t like this either,” Roy decided to chime in. “Jamie means a lot to both of us, but we both know what he is capable of. More than what Zava is.”

I knew he was right. And above that, I knew the impact he had on the people around him. His talent and charisma drew people to him, and inspired them.

“I’ll see what I can do but… Jamie is set in his way,” I told them.

Ted nodded. “I hear you but… we’re afraid if he doesn’t… that it’ll be the end of us.”

That was a lot of pressure. Not just on me but on Jamie. The conversation rolled around in my head as I walked back to our tent. I could feel the eyes of the army on me as I approached the tent, where Jamie was waiting inside.

“Took you long enough, I thought you lost your way,” Jamie greeted me with a grin, kissing my cheek and taking his food from me. I was silent as he made his way back to the bed, slumping down into it. “How was it out there today?”

I stayed silent, just looking at him, trying to figure out how to approach the conversation we were going to have.

“Jamie, we need you.”

He paused in his eating, his jaw slowing to a stop. “Colin.”

“I mean it, people are dying, our friends are dying,” I felt desperate. Desperate for him to listen so that this whole mess could be over.

“Colin.”

“Please, Jamie!”

Jamie sat up quickly, his face hardening. “Colin, stop. You know what I’m going to say.”

I felt breathless as my eyebrows knitted together. I walked over to him, kneeling between his legs, resting my hands on his knees.

“Jamie, please… for me…” I begged. “We are going to be overrun. We are all going to die.”

Jamie didn’t soften at my touch, he just shook his head. “Don’t ask me this. Don’t make this about us.”

“I have to. They told me, Ted-Roy! Roy told me. We need you, please!” Jamie’s lip quivered, and I saw his chest start to heave. “Jamie?”

He threw me off of him, pushing me to the floor as he stood up.

“Why does it have to be me?” He cried. “All I want is for Zava to apologize to me, to you!” I stood up, watching him intently. “I don’t want this anymore, Colin, I just want to go home.” My heart broke listening to him cry like this. It was so unlike him to break down like this. Then, like a lightbulb going off in his head, he turned towards me again. “Let’s do it.”

I shook my head. “Do what?”

He rushed to my side, taking my hands in his. “Leave. You said it once, we could run away.”

That was all I ever wanted, was to keep Jamie safe. To run away and never look back, just the two of us. If I could guarantee, right now, that if we left he would be safe, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat. But I couldn’t. But Jamie wouldn’t bend either. I had to make a choice.

“Okay, Jamie… okay.”

His eyes lit up in a way I hadn’t seen since before the war. “Really?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes, tomorrow, while the rest of the men are on the battlefield. We’ll go.”

He wrapped me up in his arms, squeezing me so tightly. I hugged him back, closing my eyes, memorizing his scent, the way his biceps flexed as he held me. That night I couldn’t sleep. I just stared at Jamie and his delicate features. It was better this way. Better that he could sleep soundly tonight and not worry about what the future held. I held him tighter that night than I ever had before, relishing the way his body curled into mine.

I slipped out of bed before the sun rose. Putting on his armor was difficult, as he was much larger than I was, I had to readjust several times to make it fit my smaller frame. Then I just had to put on his helmet. I prayed to whatever gods were listening to make the show convincing to the rest of the world.

I stayed silent, as I walked over to the bed and gazed down at Jamie. I didn’t know what would happen when I left through the front flap today. I didn’t know if I would ever see him again. But what I did know was Jamie was going to be okay. I leaned down and kissed his temple softly, letting my lips linger before turning away and shoving his helmet on. I knew if I turned around now I might not go, so I left and I didn’t look back.

________

When Jamie woke up he was alone. He stretched out to find Colin but the bed was empty. The sun was just about at its peak outside the tent. Maybe Colin had gone to get food, or go for a walk, say some goodbyes. Jamie sat up and stretched up, hearing his back crack out the sleep from his bones. He glanced over at where his armor had stood for the past few weeks only to find it missing. Odd.

But then shouts came from outside the tent. Drums and trumpets in the camp sounded as a ruckas became louder and louder.

“JAMIE!” It sounded like Isaac’s voice coming from right outside the tent.

He sounded breathless like he’d been running. An electric bolt of fear shot through Jamie’s body.

“Jamie… It’s Colin.”

Jamie was out of his tent in an instant, looking around wildly for where the commotion was coming from. Isaac just pointed towards the center of camp and Jamie was sprinting that way.

“Move!” He shouted as he reached the crowd. “Get out of my way.”

A path was cleared as Jamie’s presence was made known and there in the middle of the circle was his worst fear. Laying, pale and lifeless on a stretcher was Colin, dressed in Jamie’s armor. Someone was wailing, a sad, striking tone and it took a second for Jamie to realize that he was the one wailing.

“NO!” Jamie fell to the ground, grabbing Colin’s limp body in his arms. “No, no, no, please.” He looked around, trying to find someone who could help. Ted, Roy, Isaac, anyone. “Someone, please.” Even as he begged, his voice was becoming desperate. In the crowd, he spotted Zava staring in disbelief near the back of the crowd. Jamie felt his confusion and shock turn into a blistering rage at that moment. “ZAVA!”

He shot up in an instant, reaching for the man but he was held back.

“This is your fault,” he roared, fighting the arms of whoever was holding him.

“Jamie,” It was Roy, grabbing him from behind, keeping his arms pinned to his side. “Jamie, not now.”

Jamie went lax in Roy’s arms, feeling the anger leave him just as fast as it came. He felt the tears coming now. And once they came, they didn’t stop.

Colin’s burial happened shortly after. Once they were able to tear Jamie away from his body, Ted had some of the men prep him for the fire. His ashes were put in an urn and given to Jamie where he placed them in the bed that he and Colin had slept in together just the night before.

“He was incredible.” Zava had a lot of guts to come to Jamie’s tent right now. “No one could tell it wasn’t you.”

“Get out.” Jamie’s voice was dark. His hands clenched refusing to turn to face Zava.

“I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”

“I said…” Jamie’s hand found a goblet and turning he threw it towards Zava. “GET OUT.”

Zava dodged the goblet easily, before sighing and leaving. Jamie collapsed to the floor, falling into a heap of sobs. He felt half of a person. Like there was a part of his heart that had been ripped out and thrown away. Colin was his heart. Colin was his rock, the person who kept him stable through all of this, and now that he wasn’t here it was like trying to walk on 2 hours of sleep. It was like falling with no sign of impact to end it.

The next day, Jamie left his tent. He approached Ted and told him that he would fight. He would fight until the end of the war or death take him with death being the preferable option of the two. And with Jamie back in the fight, the opposition realized just how easy they had had it without him. Maybe it was the fuel of anger that his father had built into him, but Jamie moved with the swiftness of a man on a mission and each day that he survived, he seemed disheartened.

He didn’t leave his tent but to go to the battlefield, where he spent hours more than any other man. Each day a new foe would appear to confront Jamie, and each day the foe would fall with all too much ease. The people around him couldn’t find the words to help him. What do you say to someone who has nothing?

It was a sweltering day. The air felt thin and crisp as Jamie stood on the battlefield. He didn’t feel the blow when it came, from behind, of course. Just the look down at the wound opening up in his chest, and blood beginning to spill down his sides. Those looking onward recalled seeing him smile as he finally fell to the ground.

Jamie felt his eyes close and a darkness overtake him.

Then there was a face and a hand, and a home returning.

το τέλος

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