Work Text:
Usually, mornings on Delphi were pleasant. Nico would wake up to sunlight streaming through his room. Eat breakfast with the rest of the knights, before accompanying his prince, Prince William, to whatever his duties called for.
He would follow the prince around, keeping him out of trouble and protecting him with his life, as his most trusted knight.
However, when they were alone it was different. Nico would freely show Will his magic, taking him to countries his prince could never even wish to visit. Calling upon skeletal cats to entertain him when he was sad, and past, long dead, knights to spar with.
Will would be free to pull him in, hands strong and sure, to kiss him gently, openly. Will would lay across him with a sigh, to re-tale the boring meeting he was forced to attend, or complain about the way Lee beat him at chess. Will, when Delphi would be covered in snow and the wind biting, would claim that the heat in the knight's wing was much too cold for Nico. The knight would allow the prince to tuck him into bed. Allow himself to be cradled like a delicacy, like something valuable.
Sometimes Will would ask him to meet in the garden just outside the ballroom, close enough for the music Delphi was known for to be heard, and invite him to dance, whispering softly, childishly, about running away together. Until eventually, they would be interrupted, perhaps another couple, a more appropriate couple, also seeking privacy in the garden, and be forced, once again, to fulfill the role of Prince and Knight.
As was said before. It was usually pleasant in the morning. That is, when his chamber door isn’t practically thrown off its hinges, and he isn't forcefully pulled out of his bed. Nico fought with the attackers till he came across a knight he recognized, one he had trained with before.
A voice ordered for him to be released to the ground, and he landed on his back. The scrawny face of the youngest prince appeared above him, his thin lips pressed into a scowl.
“Sir di Angelo,” Octavian said, fake bravado in his tone, as if he was the one to take Nico down. “You are under arrest, and charged with treason.”
Nico’s eyes widened, “What?” he attempted to ask, before a metal encased boot slammed into his side. He doubled over in pain.
“You will speak when you are spoken to, traitor. You have been caught using dark magic, and shall be taken before my father to decide what to do with you.” Octavian gestured for him to be pulled to his feet.
__
How does he know? Was the question plaguing Nico’s mind as he stumbled through the hallways. His hands were bound behind his back, as if that would stop someone with his type of magic. His ribs hurt with every step, and the split on his brow was close to dripping blood into his eye.
How did he see? I was so careful.
A few more painful steps. They passed by a recent portrait of the royal family. His eyes drifted to his prince’s painted face, as they always did.
Oh gods. Will. They can’t know he knows. They can’t.
Before he knew it, the doors were opened and Nico was ushered into the throne room. Some of the crowd gasped as he entered. His fellow knights and friends stared in disbelief. The king sat calmly, in his eyes, Nico was already guilty.
The eldest prince choked next to King Apollo at the sight of Nico, gripping the sides of his throne till his knuckles turned white, “Father,” Will shouted as Nico was forced towards the front, “what is the meaning of this?” he asked, eyes never leaving his dear knight. Nico fought the urge to look at him.
“Kneel.” Octavian ordered. Before he could react, his knees hit the stone as the youngest prince forced him down. Nico refused to wince at the split skin.
“The meaning, dear brother,” Octavian said with false sweetness, “is that Sir di Angelo here, your most trusted knight, has been caught using,” he cocked his head to the side, clearly anticipating his brother's reaction, “Underworldly magic.”
Many of the knights and servants in the room gasped at the accusation.
Nico finally watched Will’s face. It went from shock, to a princely smile. He forced out a laugh, “You have got to be joking, brother.” his prince said, the blinding smile placed expertly on his face, “You don't really believe that I would not be aware of one of my knights using underworld magic?” he asked.
Octavian kept his gaze, “hmm, perhaps not.”
No one spoke.
“Regardless,” He said finally, cruel eyes flashing back to the king, “I saw him with my own eyes, father. Walking into a shaded place only to disappear. Is that not clearly dark magic?”
King Apollo looked at the knight with disdain. “Do you deny the claims, Sir di Angelo?”
Nico did not waver. His eyes stared defiantly into the king’s. “I do, Sire.”
Octavian growled, stepping between Nico, and the royals on the throne. He could still see his prince on the right, barely containing himself to the uncomfortable chair Nico knew that he hated. “Are you calling me a liar, knight?” Octavian asked, sword forcing his chin up. The sting of the metal was grounding.
His eyes bore into Octavians, “Of course not, my lord.” Nico said, the honorary title said with well hidden sarcasm, “Perhaps you miss understood. That's all. I know you haven't been sleeping well-”
Nico’s head flew to the side from the impact of Octavian’s hand. His bruised ribs flared angrily as he attempted to catch himself despite his restraints.
“Brother!” He heard Will shout from his place next to the king. Nico shot him a look through his unkempt hair. Will stopped his attempt to run to his aid.
“Enough!” the king decided, walking towards Nico, looking down on him. “Octavian has my utmost trust. If he claims to have seen you use, shadow travel, ” he bit out like it pained him, “Then I have no reason to uphold your word over his . You are to be executed in the morning. Guards!”
His ears were ringing. He barely registered Will running up to him, until his prince was forced away by one of his fathers guards. Nico was dragged out of the throne room.
__
Nico had been to the dungeons many times. It was one of the first jobs you get when you become a knight. An incredibly boring job, sitting in a dark, windowless place, usually having to listen to criminals claim all the reasons they are not guilty. Most of the knights play games to pass the time.
Not tonight.
Tonight, Sir Grace and Sir Jackson, two of Will’s best guards, two of Nico’s friends, stand outside his cell, unmoving, unresponsive.
Nico feels claustrophobic in the cramped room. The air is damp and it's dark, and he still feels like he can’t breathe because of the kick to the ribs and the memory of Will’s expression as he was forced away, and his impending death, and the thought of never seeing his prince again and-
He hears voices outside his cell but he can’t make out what they're saying. Light footsteps approach the door, before it is swung open.
“My love,” Will’s voice breaks as he takes in the sight of Nico, sitting, leaning against a wall, hand cradling his bruised side, his eyes red and wet with unshed tears.
Will kneels in front of him, completely disregarding his expensive trousers which are soon to be caked with mud due to the state of the room. His hair seems to glow despite the dim light streaming through the bars. His blue eyes, usually so free, so gentle, are intense. Nico sees something in them he wishes he never would have to.
Will is afraid.
The prince reaches towards him gently, slowly, before Nico allows himself to fall into the soft embrace of his arms.
They're both definitely crying now, but it seems the two knights have left momentarily, and this may be the last time Nico sees his prince again, so he does so freely.
Eventually, Will sat back from Nico. His blue eyes contrasted brightly against the bloodshot hue.
“You can escape. Can’t you? I won't pretend to understand how your magic works, but you can.”
“I could run, or I could stay and die but either way, I will never get to see you again.” Nico exhaled shakily, looking down to the necklace Will was wearing. His mothers crest. “Running, I feel, would be worse than death. I couldn't live with myself knowing that you were here and I was not.” Nico stated.
Will looked taken aback. His eyebrows scrunched together and he scanned Nico’s face, Nico wasn't sure what for.
They were quiet for a moment, until-
“Take me with you.”
The knight’s breath caught in his throat.
“What?” Nico searched Will’s face for any type of hesitancy, uncertainty. He saw none.
Nico’s hands found his prince's face, unblemished skin under callused fingertips. “Will,” the prince smiled at the use of his name, “your life, your people. You would give up your crown, for me?” he whispered.
Will didn't hesitate, “I would give up anything for you.”
Nico shook his head in disbelief. Will’s hands covered Nico’s wrists, “I love my people. You know that. But Lee,” Will took a breath, “He would be next in line. He would be a fine king, better than I.” Will ignored the noise of disagreement from his knight.
“Actually I uh,” Will met his eyes again, “I spoke to him before I came here. He said he would step up for me. I never wanted to be king. I never wanted any of this. I just,” Will faltered, pink splattering his freckled cheeks, “I just wanted you.”
Nico surged forward, pulling Will towards him and connecting their lips. When Will pulled away, he rested his forehead against Nico’s. He was crying again.
Sir Grace cleared his throat from outside the cell door.
The prince turned back to Nico, suddenly serious.
“We don't have much time. Will you let me go with you?” he asked. He sounded nervous.
“Of course.” Nico answered easily. As if there was any universe where he would refuse his prince.
Nico turned to his friends outside the cell, his eyes glancing between green and blue, “Thank you.” he said, trying to convey everything he wanted to say to the knights. Sir Jackson smiled, before nodding to the prince.
They stood, Will having to support some of his weight. The room was dark, so finding a shadow was easy.
“Are you ready, My Prince?” to Nico, he would always be his prince, title be damned.
Will kissed him gently, “Of course, My Love.”
Together, Nico and Will melted into the shadows.