Two Sides (Stan x Kyle)

24

Warning: Graphic scenes of Violence and Blood

A step forward and a slice of a dagger. It sends Stan into a fiery fit as he kneels before the King, clutching his shoulder with clenched teeth.

The King moves back a little, but only to admire his work. He studies Stan like a painting he just made, filled with corruption and sorrow.

Solely because those are the two emotions both have on their faces. Stan's jaw is screwed tight and his skin is turning a ghostly pale. He glances up through watery eyes and sees a proud grin upon the King's face.

"How can this destruction make you happy?" Stan asks, his voice hoarse and raspy, "People are dying, and you still refuse a treaty with the Elven King?"

The King laughs, "Ignorance is bliss, Stanley. For you haven't got a clue of what you are on about."

Stan tilts his head down and speaks in a strained voice, "I am sure I know more than you think."

"Oh, do you now?" The King snarls, "So you could tell me why this war was started?"

"Yes," Stan gives a little laugh, "Damien's father, the King before you- he was evil. He wished to see the innocent die."

The King waits for more to the story, but Stan stops.

"Oh," He says flatly, "You were just getting to the good part! Do tell why I went along with his plans- or perhaps what exactly he meant to me."

Stan stares up, confused.

"You mean to tell me you do not know?" The King looks genuinely surprised.

Stan shakes his head slowly.

"Ah, well I was under the impression that you went to her to gain your powers. I still refuse to believe that she did not grant me some at a young age-"

Stan stares at him, "Who?"

The King smiles maliciously, "My mother, of course. Or the so-called, 'Witch in the Woods', yes I do believe that is the name."

Stan drops his gaze to the floor, remembering how he threatened the witch, "She is your mother? But- she was in the Elven-"

"Yet you wonder," The King begins, his voice louder and angrier than usual, "Why exactly I shall not sign a treaty. For my mother... she abandoned me!"

Stan looks up at him, his voice hollow, "That, that does not make sense. Why would she ditch you like that?"

The King stares at him, his fiery gaze burning daggers into him, "You think that- perhaps- I might know why an evil witch left her son to die? She was outlawed by the townsfolk. The only thing she could do before she fled was tell her apprentice to stay and leave her son for a better life."

Stan's brain jumbles around, trying to process this new information. How could the witch, someone so nice, be related to the tyrant of the west?

"I was left alone, to suffer," The King says, "The only one to take pity on such a young boy- the man I look up to- was the King before me."

"He let you in? This is the reason you continue to spread his madness? To take the lives of so many innocents?" Stan counters.

"He was like the father I never had!" The King yells, stepping closer to Stan and holding the dagger out, "You are not one to tell me I am wrong to continue his life's work!"

That is when The King grasps Stan by the hair, holding his head back as he grazes the knife by his throat, so close to drawing blood.

Stan groans when his shoulder is moved. He looks up at The King through heavy eyes and clenches his teeth together.