all i ever wanted was the world

theron william powys//nineteen

Theron began to use the ladle to pour stew into the wooden bowls, steam coming from the still hot meal. As Theia seated herself, he came to set the bowl of stew before her just as she spoke, saying he should wear the armor. He opened his mouth to speak, but she anticipated it, and told him why he should be the one to wear it.

He said nothing, still contemplating her words silently, as he went back to the fire and made himself a bowl. It would feel wrong to wear his armor, as he was not his father and he still felt responsible for his death. But Theia was right. It was too heavy and big for her, it would only slow him down, and neither of them wished to leave it behind.

As he came to sit across from her, holding the bowl of stew in his hand, she spoke again. She told him she was going to check his hands before they left, to which he offered a small sigh, but did not argue. She was almost acting as if nothing had happened, as if right now her parents weren't supposed to be sitting with them, laughing and spooning up the gamey stew. It felt wrong to be in that beach hut now. He decided then that every time you lost someone you loved, you lost the person you used to be with them.

Theron finished eating rather quickly, even though the heat of it burned his tongue. He was rushing himself, wanting to leave before they sent for reinforcements. He was sure they'd send many more trained soldiers, to which they wouldn't stand a chance against. But he would fight regardless.

After setting his bowl aside, finished, he stood and made his way toward the closet that held Valavin's armor. He looked it over, at the seal of a tiger on the front, which was the crest of the south. Shrugging off his cloak, he began to put the armor on, one piece at a time. It was heavy, and would take some getting used to, but he figured he could handle it.

Once he was done, he turned back toward Theia. "Are all of your things packed?"

While waiting for her answer, he moved toward the front of the hut, where his two bags lay. One with food for them, one with his own belongings and their gold. They had three horses now, enough to carry what they needed. He picked both heavy sacks up and slung them over his shoulders, causing a clanking sound as they hit the armor that was now his.

"We will load everything onto the horses and then I will let you check my wounds." He told her, shrugging, before opening the door and heading outside.

He brought the sacks over to the horses, first saddling Asa, preparing him for travel. Then he turned to the two other horses - one white stallion, and one dark brown. He began to fix his things onto them, trying to ignore how much his hands stung from the action.

theron william powys//nineteen

Theron did not glance back toward Theia as she approached, but instead kept focused on preparing his luggage, trying not to cringe at the pain in his hands as he did so. He was busy packing the luggage onto the white horse, which he would ride, while Theia prepared Asa, when Theia spoke up. The young man gave a tired sigh, glancing down at his hands.

"No, I'll be fine." He said, unsure. He didn't want to waste time on his hands when they could be gaining distance between them and the king's men. They needed to leave right at nightfall, before any reinforcements could be sent.

Despite his reassurances, Theia came to inspect his hand anyway, grabbing his wrist and bringing his hand from the saddle. He did not fight her, as there was no use. She was going to look them over eventually. And after she pulled his gloves off as well as his bandages, she frowned, asking if he had disinfected them, which he hadn't.

Before he could retort, she was squeezing the juice from leaves over his hand, causing the cuts to burn, his fingers stretching out as he groaned at the pain. He was trying his best not to yank his hands back, but she was making it difficult. Afterwards she poured cold water over them, which helped with the stinging a bit, and he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

Then Theia murmured for him to be more careful, peering up at him. He frowned, only for her to add that she couldn't lose him too. This caused his throat to close up as he held back the tears that were already rising again. He felt guilty for her parents' deaths, as she no longer had a family, just like him. He decided they were each other's family now.

He realized now that of course she mourned them, just as he did. Though she was grieving in a different way, her heart must have still been broken into a million pieces, just as his was. He never wanted her to feel this type of pain again, or any pain.

Flipping his hand over onto hers, he gripped hers as tightly as he could without too much pain, bringing her hand to his chest. "I will never leave you, Altheia. I promise."

Offering a small smile, Theron let go of her hand, bring his own to tuck a loose strand of long white blonde hair behind her ear. And as they gazed into each other's eyes, the sun's rays dancing on them, it was a true instance of skinny love. They loved each other, more than they were both willing to admit, as both were too shy to make the first move, but it showed in moments like these.

Breaking the moment, Theron dropped his hand and nodded toward the horses. "We should leave now and find a nearby town with an inn to stay in for the night. We must hurry before all of the rooms are full."

Theron then began to wrap the bandages back onto his hands, leaning against the wide tree he was next to. Afterwards he slipped his gloves back on, and turned his gaze to the beach - to the craggy cliffs where he used to brood, to the beach hut they had grown up in, to the tree where Valvin and Celia were now buried. He read over the words they had carved one last time, sending a silent farewell, before mounting the white horse. He had already tied the reins of the brown horse to his saddle, so they would have to go at a slower pace, which meant leaving earlier.

Glancing toward Theia, he nodded once, then kicked gently at the sides of the horse. They started down their path, into the unknown, leaving behind the only home they had ever known forever.

theron william powys//nineteen

By the time the pair reached the nearest town, Theron was just about ready to fall off his horse. He was loosely holding onto the reins as to not worsen the pain in his hands, but they could not afford to move at such a languid pace, as the sky was darkening around them. Instead they kept at a slow trot, keeping a careful eye on their surroundings, and his sword close. The only sound was of the horses' hooves hitting the stone as they made their way down the path.

"I think that is Adar." Theron said, pointing toward the town up ahead. It was small and off the coast, surrounded by hills and marshes. And though it was mostly bland, there were a few flags hanging up with the new royal crest - a coyote walking on a white backdrop. Theron knew it was in honor of King Thomas, but he wasn't sure why these people, in the middle of nowhere and far down south, would want anything to do with the man who murdered their rightful king. It angered Theron, but he had to remind himself that they were only stopping for the night, and to perhaps sell a few items for some extra gold.

As soon as they entered the town, Theron kept an eye out for any more people who could be looking to hurt them. Though all he saw were townsfolk carrying lumber, children chasing each other, and a few traders selling wares from the ported ships. It was growing dark, and so the town wasn't bustling with people, as many were getting ready for bed.

There was an inn up ahead to their left, seemingly barren, but still open for business. Theron led Theia and their horses to the post before dismounting. He then tied the reins to the post and patted the stallion on the neck. He grabbed the small pouch of gold and weighed it in his hand, frowning.

"I'll go in and ask for some rooms. You stay and keep watch on the horses." Theron said before entering the inn.

The innkeeper was an elderly man with spectacles and thin enough hair to show he was balding. He also had a bit of a gut, and was leaning over his desk to look at some papers. He didn't glance up as Theron approached.
"Excuse me, sir. I was looking to purchase two rooms." As he spoke, he placed half of their gold on the desk, letting it spill out of the bag. He didn't want to use all of it right away.

The older man pursed his lips and glanced toward the gold, pushing up his spectacles. Then he looked away again and said, "That's only enough for one room."

Theron licked his lips, debating. He was unsure how Theia would feel sharing a room with him, but he didn't want to use all of their gold in one night. Still unsure, he decided sharing a room would have to do.

"Alright, I'll take one room then." Theron said, pushing the gold in the mans direction.

The old man picked up the gold, turned it over, then nodded. He grabbed a key from behind him and handed it to Theron. "Third room on the left."

Theron gave a small thanks before turning to leave. As he reached Theia, he frowned. "Well, I got us a room, but we only had enough for the one."

The young man started toward the stallion, moving to take the luggage off, slinging a pouch over his shoulder. "Our room is the third on the left."