#th.faustus

poor boy. he had carried ragnar into the halls, and he had made sure a healer and a silver haired woman got to him before calling for anna. “ANNA!” he’d have to marry her now. divines, if he didn’t marry her, he might die.

he had not slept since the ball. most nights were spent pouring over religious texts he had borrowed from mirza. perhaps the weakness of the gods was in the very texts of worship. he would go on the expedition to the castle when he could. he WOULD. he needed to come to terms with everything.

“YOU KNOW, VERAX AND I USED TO TALK ABOUT STUFF LIKE THIS... WHAT WE WOULD DO IF THE DEAD ROSE OR IF... OR IF ONE OF THE OTHER COUNTRIES FINALLY BROKE THE PEACE AND INVADED ARELLA.” he put down the little coin he had been playing with for about ten minutes and looked up at anna.

“DID YOU HAVE ‘THE DIVINES WERE ACTUALLY EVIL’ ON YOUR END-OF-THE-WORLD BINGO CARD?” faustus asked, braiding his sister’s golden hair as she sat in front of him. he had always been quite adept at braiding hair, mostly because he had always been the best at it. audacia and provincia had also demanded his talents.

“NO. NO NO NO. YOU’RE GOING TO BE STAYING WITH ME AND MY... UH. ME AND ANNA. WE’RE GOING TO HOLE UP IN MY HOUSE, AND I AM GOING TO PROTECT YOU.”

he points to her, adorable as she is. “AND YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO BE MISCHIEVOUS. YOU’VE GOT THAT LOOK IN YOUR EYE. AND I WON’T ALLOW IT LIKE FATHER DID.” he absolutely will allow it like father did. his little sister could tell him to commit arson, and he would do it for her.

the nights had been long since he returned from ireyne, and though anna had provided a certain level of comfort, he felt like he was not good enough for her comfort. not now. verax had died, and...so many had died. millie and modi had just...disappeared. it was disturbing. he wasn’t sure what to make of it. so, he stole away from anna’s warm embrace for a night to lose himself in a bottle.

“ANNA!” he grabs her and pulls her away from the battle, face spattered in blood and eyes wild. “ARE YOU UNHURT?” he asks, frantic as he tugs her behind one of the shacks the villagers live in. he unthinkingly cups her cheeks and looks her over. 

“I AM IN NEED OF HERBS FOR POULTICES, MY LADY,” faustus says as he walks into the bright store. he sticks out like a sore thumb, dressed in greys and blacks, kohl dark around his eyes. 

“DO YOU HAVE ANY LINSEED?” he asks, quiet and reserved. he stands like a proper lord, but he has to hunch. the ceiling is too low. he must stoop just a touch.