save my soul for me, because I'm alone

A past version of himself would have been elated at his father's growing prestige, which was touted enough by the people on their hometown that it drew interest beyond Columba to even Pyxis, the royal capitol, but every blow Ezra Sr landed on his bastard son beat a little more loyalty out of Ezra. Rebellion filled the vacancy. Rebellion nursed his pride. Rebellion often began with fire.

His powers were still new and therefore Ezra had little control over them, an issue that was exacerbated by his rising temper. He never struck out with his ability-- not since that first time-- but he couldn't help how hot his skin grew and how it would scorch Ezra Sr's knuckles. But what did his mother say? Don't go playing with fire unless you expect to get burned.

It was the thought of her, not a full bladder, that had him asking to be excused, and he was promptly dismissed by his father with barely a glance. He hadn't really been listening to the directions he'd been given, mostly wandering to clear his mind so he could swallow some of the bile rising in his throat, resentful of the fact that when they were in the church or within the walls of the kingdom, his father pretended they were still the same father-son duo everyone in Columba knew them to be. Anger sparked under his skin, Ezra trudging down hallways and around corners, until the powerful voice of the king caused him to stop suddenly.

Oh, he shouldn't be here. He made to step away, back to the safety of obscurity, but in that same instant, King Iki raised his hand and slapped it across his daughter's cheek, and suddenly it didn't matter that this wasn't his home or his city or even his place.

"Hey!" He was between them now, and thoughtlessly he reeled his own arm back, clenched his knuckles, and prepared to give King Iki a taste of his own damn medicine.

And that's how Ezra found himself slammed up against the wall, arms twisted behind him, by one of the guards who must have had a particular hard-on for his Royal Fuckface, with King Child Abuse glaring with cold eyes, a wide-eyed Crown Princess off to the other side, and more asskissers on their way to apprehend the preacher's brat.

They could hold him down all they wanted, but Ezra never submitted. He might have kicked, screamed, and even tried to bite them when they shoved him forward, snapping his teeth at the king for good measure, and yeah, maybe he tried to trip them when they threw him into the cell, but he damn sure never surrendered, no matter how hard they threw him to the ground.

For most of that evening, Ezra prowled the cell like a caged animal, waiting for some idiot onlooker to stick their hand in so he could snap it off. Unsurprisingly, he was left mostly alone, other than for them to crowd his cell and beat the hell outta him, father's orders. He was sure Ezra Sr slipped them a bribe for that one-- not that they needed much coaxing. By the time Aela slipped down to the dungeon, they'd dispersed and he'd moved to his "bed," tracing cracks in the wall with his fingers. He could pretend they were rivers leading out to the sea to a world far far away from fathers and their fists.

He started when Aela cleared her throat, but a lofty grin found its way to his lips and Ezra sauntered across to the bars. He was lean and lanky, lacking muscle that he would gain later, and his skin was black and blue all over, but the twinkle in his eye was bright and gleaming, despite how another might have lost their luster in circumstances like his. "Well, my momma always told me 'Ezra, don't you ever hit a girl' and, y'know, I don't think a king should be held to any less standards than me on that one. Besides, who'd wanna ruin such a pretty face?" The princess was quite the looker; all she lacked was confidence. "Princess Aela, wasn't it?"

She was even cuter when she blushed. Ezra's smile widened at the sight of it, suddenly thankful the gods decided to ruin his life. Guess there were silver linings to things after all.

"You don't need to thank me, y'know. I was jus' doin' my good for the week. You ever heard how a good deed keeps the sins away?" He accepted the gift she offered him, setting the book gently on the ground while he devoured the tart, scarcely tasting it. His stomach rumbled an appreciative thanks to its savior. "Thanks for this, by the way. You really didn't need to come down here. I won't be there to get in the way again if he catches you," he warned, despite that he didn't want her to go in the least. She was kind, and kindness was something that was in short supply in his life.

His hands cupped his face, Ezra feigning shock at her dismissal. "What?! Are you telling me that you, the crown princess, aren't super excited to sit in on my father, the GREAT Ezra fuckin' Sr's sermons?" After a moment, he laughed. "To tell you the truth, neither am I. Between you and me, it's all bogus, everything he says." He didn't have the same reservations about speaking ill of his father as she did. The venom could burn through his tongue.

As she mentioned the bruises, he glanced down at where his skin was a patchwork of hues. "Well, depends on which ones you're askin' about really. See, these," he pointed to the brighter spots, freshly blossomed into a shade of red, "are from the guards. They still hurt. But these," now his hands moved across the others, some of which were violet while others were a pasty yellow, "are from before. Dear old dad's love taps." He referenced them like they were badges of honor, but there was a detectable trace of disgust weaseled into his tone.

Ezra leaned closer into the bars and grinned again, tilting his head. "Get out? This place is just as good as being at home, 'cept now I get to see a pretty girl." He winked. "C'mon, you wish your room was as cool as mine, princess. I get to count the cracks in the stone-- which, by the way, is super fun-- and I can take a nice long walk 'round the square and my new friends get to come visit all the time so we can wrestle. What more could a prisoner want? Well, besides maybe that pretty girl coming around and maybe reading a poem or two to a poor, illiterate bastard."

Her touch was comforting, or maybe he was just that starved for a soft touch. He wanted to catch her hand before it drew back, but he resisted, instead considering her words. Staying in the palace was certainly more enticing than going back to Columba with his father. At least if he got beat up by the guards, Aela might come back and help nurse him back to health.

"I guess I could be good for a little while. Does this mean I get to see you?" Fuck all the other perks of what this arrangement might have for him. Aela was like some kindred spirit, someone who understood the pain he felt, and frankly she was very easy on the eyes, his own appraising her not for the last time.

"I don't read," he confirmed, skirting around the truth without directly lying. He hadn't read since that last night with his mother, and he planned to keep it that way. "Which one's your favorite? We can start with that one and you can explain it to me 'cuz I'll be honest, I never understood any of it. Why say one thing but mean another? That's just an extra step! It's unnecessary!"

After a moment’s thought, Ezra reached a hand through the bars and held his pinky out, grinning when she twined her own into it. “Fine. I pinky promise that I will try to be on my best behavior as long as you come to see me. But miss a day and those guys are toast.” He jabbed a thumb in the direction of where his guards were sleeping on duty.

Over the course of her reading, he’d settled himself on the floor as well, head leaning back against the stone wall, his eyes closing peacefully. He could have dozed off without struggle, but then her voice changed subtly and roused him back to reality, one eye prying open. “I guess so. But I appreciate things that get right to the point,” he noted. It was more fitting to his personality anyway.

Silence settled on them for a moment, then he asked, “Wanna play a game?”

As far as Ezra was concerned, they were now besties. Subconsciously, he knew he was drawn to her because of their shared demons, but he wasn't fully cognizant of that yet. All he knew was he liked this shy princess and felt a need to protect her, or at the very least make her smile.

"Well, there's not a whole lotta games we can play in here, but how 'bout this? I'll act out something and you gotta guess what I am?" Much of the remaining evening went like that, with Ezra flapping his arms like great eagles or running around on all fours like the beasts of legends, Aela's laughter becoming less restrained the more comfortable she became in his presence. By the end of it, he was sweating profusely, but a grin stretched from ear-to-ear, the boy perfectly content to make a fool of himself if it meant this.

One of the guards roused from his nap, woken by the sound of laughter and...joy? Oh, he couldn't have that. Groggily, he grabbed a bowl and filled it to the brim with water before sauntering over to the princess and the pest. "Looks like someone could use a shower," he sneered, and before either of the pair could react, he flung the water through the bars and laughed at his drenched victim. "Now that's funny, Your Highness. Look at him run! He's gonna get his bed all wet. Nasty little shit, isn't he?"

He shuffled off, muttering to himself, but by time Aela was turning to Ezra, the boy was dry and his eyes were fading from their vivid tincture back to his dark, burnished gaze. Hair stuck in wild angles, he grinned and then whistled, impressed by her tenacity. "Wow, how do I get you to boss me around like that? I like a woman in charge."

So far in their exchanges, the only evidence of Aela's ties to the crown were from the occasions he saw her at her father's side. Her soft spoken demeanor didn't lend well to the perception of royalty he had, as he'd never been anywhere other than the palace's chapel until now. It was an exhilarating shift. "You didn't need to do that, Aela, really," he said, the appreciation he meant to express nestled somewhere in his words. "I can take care of me. You shouldn't be sticking your neck out for types like me."