Work Text:
Louis lay motionless for the next three hours, feigning death until he was absolutely certain that his supposed comrades in arms were long gone.
He sat up in a daze, every one of his muscles aching, his entire body sore. Although the rain had cleansed much of the physical evidence, it did nothing to soothe the revulsion that made him want to peel off his filthy skin.
Louis rose on unsteady legs. He could feel blood and something else dribble from his crotch, down his thighs. He grabbed the bloodied cloth they'd attempted to hide him under and used it to cover himself. He then cast a growth spell on a root that poked out of the ground and commanded it to grow, twisting itself upwards until it created a climbable surface for Louis to escape the shallow grave they'd dumped him in.
Louis walked like the risen dead for what felt like hours. Aimless, exhausted yet restless. It felt as if time had slowed to a crawl.
There was nowhere he could go where he would be safe. Returning to the barracks would risk running into his attackers again, and they likely wouldn't fail to kill him twice. Louis could not afford to be killed. He needed to prove his innocence regarding his involvement with the prince. The king would take care of everything and doll out due punishment once the truth was laid bare, and for that to happen - he needed to survive.
Shivering in the cold, Louis trudged his way to a church, knowing they would never turn away a young clemar boy the way they had before he'd donned the horns. He stopped just short of knocking on the large ornate doors, asking himself, what am I doing?
Turning to wretched Sanctists for help, was he truly going insane? Had one incident of unjust violence rewired all of his brain?
He could hear a commotion on the other side of the door growing closer within earshot. If he simply stood there for another minute or so, the doors would swing open, and someone would find him and likely hurry him inside, away from the rain. He wouldn't need to do or say much at all. Merely stand there and wait.
Louis left. Ran, ran ran, as far as his short legs could carry him, until his heart stopped thundering in his chest and until the tears ceased streaking down his cheeks.
He would survive on his own.