He expected to feel relief spiking through his breast when he heard her voice. Expected to fall to his knees as the weight was lifted from his shoulders and he presented the note to her, thanking all the heavens that he could pass it to her and remove it from his responsibility. Instead, he felt a shock of terror, and an impulsive desire to clutch the note tighter to his breast, to hide it and retreat and keep the paper hidden within the swamp. To stamp it into mush and drown it in the water and keep its contents from ever reaching the eyes or ears of his people.
His people.
That was exactly why he had to show her, wasn't it?
He owed it to his people to warn them in case trouble was on the horizon, that's how being a family worked.
"Can I get you help? Rest and a drink of water?”
He doesn't even realize that he's frantically shaking his head back and forth until it dawns on him that he's struggling to keep her in his field of view she has grown so blurred with his movements. He stills his head, legs trembling now that his running has ceased. He feels weaker than a newborn foal from his terrified sprint, pushed on only by the sheer desperation with which he drove himself, lest he turn back and hide if his confidence falter for even a moment in even the slightest degree.
It took nothing short of the unobtainable to keep him going when he doubted himself. Which was most days.
“Then you can tell me what you have brought for us.”
No, no, no.
Now.
You need to know, now.
I can't keep it to myself any longer, it's eating me alive.
He coughed as he tried to fill his lungs with air as deeply as he could, taking large breaths to try and force his heart to slow so that his breathing might slow in tandem and allow him to speak. He forced his breathing to slow to a point it did not want to, forcing his heart to comply and be still so that he might speak. Everything shook and his heart still struck a frantic beat against his ribs like it banged upon the drums of war, but his voice managed to crack out as he wearily tried to raise the paper to the Sovereign, nearly stumbling and only just catching himself as he spoke.
"Cou-Could... b-b-be prank, c-could have been p-prank."
Even those few words were too much as he gasped for air, before forcing himself to continue. This could potentially be more important than any breathing.
"D-Don't know w-who... d-don't know who left... w-w-wasn't there l-long before I-I saw..."
He paused for breath once more, both to get the air to speak and because this was the part he was most afraid of her reaction for. He had waited. He had been confronted with serious information. And he had waited. He winced as he preemptively dipped his head down, ears going back in submission as he bowed his head and hunched his shoulders, as if he was hunkering down for a blow.
"S-Sorry... d-d-didn't want to r-ruin festival... so... w-waited t-t-to bring..."
He closed his eyes in fright but forced himself to continue speaking in a rush of words, he needed to finish his piece before he was struck down for betrayal, she needed to know everything before he was silenced. The words spilled over his lips like a gushing torrent as the dam was finally broken and the waters raged free.
"C-Could j-j-just be prank... b-but... seemed m-m-more serious th-than a p-prank so..."
It took everything he had in him to hold the paper up for her, everything in him a mixture of terror, guilt, and pure, unadulterated exhaustion. This had been resting on his shoulders for a while and he was tired, was tired of the weights of the world he didn't ask for.
He could have been a warrior, could have been a caretaker, could have been a sage. He could have been any of the four champions. He had the natural weapons to be called on in battle, the kindness to be called on to heal, the brain to be called on for knowledge, and the understanding of what it was like to be small to be called on to speak for the community. He could have fought for leadership, fought to prove his worth and showed the natural power of his body, his kindness, his smarts, and his understanding to make a most marvelous leader if he had cared to strive for it.
But there was a reason he was a Commoner.
He wasn't meant to be involved in the affairs of gods and kings.
He could be, he could fight for his right to be a king, he had the potential, but it would break him.
He wasn't meant to be involved in the affairs of gods and kings, and yet here he had been dragged into them anyway.
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