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Lovely Vengeance

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When Janus heard a knock on the door to his hut Logan had been the person he expected to see. What he didn’t expect was to see him bleeding from the side of his head with bruises decorating nearly every exposed inch of his body.

Before he even had time to process the shock and panic he felt Logan fell forwards and landed in Janus’s arms, body going limp. A surge of panic jolted through Janus as his mind immediately assumed the worse. Wasting no time he carried Logan to the table in the far corner of the room, knocking the flowered centerpiece away with his elbow and gently setting him on the makeshift examination table. He removed his gloves, tossing them to the ground with the crumpled decoration. Placing his hands as gently as possible at his neck brought a bit of relief as he felt the gentle pulsing rhythm of his heartbeat.

Knowing that Logan was at least alive, he began doing what he could for the injuries, dabbing at the bruises and cuts smeared with dirt and grime and taking extra care to wrap the gash on his head with the cleanest rag he had on hand.

By the time the job was done the sun had begun to set. Nothing more could be done for Logan, especially not with the light fading out. Janus pulled out the chair on the table’s side, drifting off to sleep by the gentle sound of Logan’s breathing, hoping that tomorrow would bring answers to what had happened.


He awoke with a start at the feeling of something grazing his hand. Blinking away the brightness of the morning light he caught a glimpse of Logan, face contorted in a look of painful effort as he struggled to reach out to Janus. He was up in an instant, grasping onto the other’s hand.


The sides of Logan’s lips twitched upwards in a strained smile. “Hello Janus.”

As desperate as he was to demand to know what had happened, he restrained himself, wanting to check what kind of condition Logan was in.

“Darling how do you feel?”

Logan closed his eyes a moment, twitching a few muscles in his arms and legs as if performing an evaluation on himself. He groaned, turning to Janus once more.

“Nothing appears to be broken,” he said, “I do feel rather stiff though. And sore. But I should be alright.”

“Do you think you can sit up?”

He nodded.

Janus helped steady him, a hand on his back and shoulder. Logan's breathing sped up slightly, heavy and ragged, but he managed to push himself up fully, sitting on the table's edge.

Janus reached up to the wrap on Logan’s head, now stained bright red with the blood that had seeped through. The gash underneath was now smeared with dried blood, but it was much easier to make out than it had been the previous evening. The shape and size of it was unmistakable; Only one weapon could have sliced through like this with such precision. A sword.

Janus’s eyes darkened at the sight.

“Who did this to you?” he asked, voice shaking with rage. He was almost certain he already knew the answer.

“The prince,” Logan began, “caught me reading your letter. Needless to say he wasn’t pleased to find his royal advisor was with the “serpent sorcerer” that he had banished to the forest.”

Janus remained still, staring intensely at the cut, taking in every detail of it, the depth of it, how forcefully the sword must have been swung to slice through that much flesh... The sickening thought crossed his mind of what might have happened to Logan had it gone just a few inches deeper.

Finally he moved, re-wrapping the area with the cloth temporarily until he could get a suitable clean one, placing a soft kiss to Logan’s temple once he was finished.

“Well then, if the prince is so content to do this all in my name then I think we shall return the favor, Love.”