lohengrins | gay shit

[ it's strange to say — that he feels he needs to relearn how exactly to be alone these days.

his knuckles rapp against the door. it's late, and the sky's vast and bright blue has darkened entirely, the stars draped around the grandcypher. his armor is off, hair sweeping against his shoulders; he holds his head high, clearing his throat before he speaks. he's already bid his good night for the day, but— ]

Captain. There's a matter I need to discuss with you.

[ gran is reasonable. sometimes. it isn't anything that risks either of their wellbeings, so there isn't any need for damage control, he thinks. but— ]

It isn't anything worth concerning yourself with. I thought it'd be in my best interest to tell you beforehand is all.

[ read: please open the door already. ]

[ he'll open the door when he damn well feels like it.

-- is that aggressive energy? no, it's most definitely not aggressive. but the night is late and gran's busy pretending he's asleep to ward off the usual evening-goers who try to grab his attention at dumb hours. he's contemplating doing the same, here, but his hand's on the doorknob and he's sliding it open before he can really think twice.

that's about how it goes, with percival. ]

what's wrong?

[ because: percival doesn't bother him for no reason. because: no matter how he might wish otherwise, sometimes, percival's all about checking off things on a list. gran wonders how high up he is today.

he invites the robe-clad man within, clearing away the messy papers at his desk into an even messier pile off to the side. ]

do we have to put people on "stab watch" again?

Edited 2018-12-28 07:00 (UTC)

[ you better open that door bitch!!

he swallows something down upon being welcomed into his room — it isn't quite a sigh or a breath of relief. his answer is not one that comes immediately either; percival's eyes flicker over gran for a moment before flitting around the room. his gaze settles onto his face, and he straightens his shoulders. ]

No, it's...nothing like that. [ a beat. ] Not this time. [ it's said with a scoff, some attempt at establishing normalcy here.

his eyes flutter shut. ]

The anniversary of my father's death is drawing close. I had intended on travel to Wales to see my brother. I thought it might be...

Good for him.

[ or maybe it'll be good for me, he wants to add. for us. ]

I wouldn't know — it'd be the first time we'll have done something like this. He could send me for away for all I care, and he may but...I have to try.

[ his brows knit together, mouth forming a tight lipped frown. despite that, his eyes cast down towards the floor. ]

I'll be coming back, so there isn't any cause for concern...but I owe you this much, Captain.

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[ he’s not sure what he’s expecting. it is somehow both entirely unsurprising and surprising at once — maybe it’s the audacity of his vassal that stuns him into silence, or maybe it’s the blatant concern for his wellbeing.

so he blinks. once, twice, unsure of what to say. a silence. ]

...Captain. This is a journey best made alone.

[ and it will be, he almost adds firmly. he does not. he holds his head high. ]

I can’t afford to keep dragging you into my personal affairs. And this isn’t like before — my brother’s changed.

[ his features soften as quickly as they harden. ]

You have your own matters to tend to as well. [ his father, he thinks. the world before them. something to work towards. ] Never is there an excuse for allowing your focus to stray from what’s most important to you. I’ll be fine, and you will be too.

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[ he will never be able to understand how he says these things so bluntly, so naturally. in a way, it's a curse more than anything. he stares, looking soemwhat affronted, features hardening as he folds his arms. ]

I—

[ ...and then a sigh escapes him. percival runs his fingers through his own hair, lips quirking up into something of a grimace. ]

You've already made up your mind, haven't you? Tch. Some things never change.

[ he gives it a moment, thinking it over — like he has a choice. (he doesn't.) ]

Fine. But should anything arise, you won't be staying for any longer than a day. Got it?

[ so percival straightens his shoulders again, gaze meeting gran's in some attempt to assert himself.

his cheeks are still warm so this isn't working as well as it should. more bashfully than he cares to be, eyes flitting to the side, he musters a: ]

...Thank you. I'm in your debt, as always.

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[ that smile is dangerous — something warm pricks at his heart, washing over like the tides. for a moment, he almost returns it, but his pride is at stake here. so instead he'll grunt and narrow his eyes in turn. ]

Hoh? What's the worst you could do? Call the kiddies on me again? You've exhausted all of your tricks. [ he does not realize that this is objectively a lie. he will in around 9 months from now.

that question warrants a sigh. percival rakes his fingers through his own hair, simply thinking for a moment. ]

There's no need to. It isn't their business. That matter aside, the Dragon Knights aren't... [ choose those words carefully. ] As involved as you are. Or perhaps I should say nosy?

[ a beat. ]

...You call the shots. It's different. That's all.

[ the windows are fogging.

lyria is sound asleep, fortunately — percival's eyes are trained on their surroundings; the way the carriage slowly, steadily inches down the mountain pathway. his body is tense, taut like a string that's ready to snap at any given monent.

it's different this time. but it's the same too — because his captain is here, inches away from him. they're off to see his brother, and then greet what remains of his father.

without looking, he speaks: ]

You should be asleep.

[ Gran wasn't putting any effort into trying to sleep, anyway. Vyrn is tucked away close to Lyria. He keeps sending them watchful looks, now and again, wistful and guarding and yet distant all at once. He only seems to recall himself when he is addressed. And even then? There's a ghost in his eyes and it projects itself like fog as he watches the slow-moving world of night. ]

There might be bandits. [ Don't tell me to stop because I won't. ]

Edited 2019-02-07 02:39 (UTC)

I'll deal with them.

[ spoken like a true knight. he doesn't look at him, not quite yet — it's better to fixate on the threat rather than what you're trying to protect..

otherwise, you're simply indulging, he thinks. ]

[ Gran, on the other hand, doesn't seem to have the same discipline.
He drinks in the sight of Percival, just the same as when they share cups
of tea under the moonlight or stand shoulder to shoulder, looking over a
map. The energy he is the same as those times but it's different.

He comes over, leans into the knight's side. He is phantasm and he is light
and he is fog that coalesces as a present need. ]

You mean WE will deal with them. Right?

[ no, that isn't what he means — it is what he should mean though, he's well aware. captain and crewmate, a king and his vassal, they were a unit. never apart. he doesn't know any other way at this point.

and yet— ]

...Just get some rest.

[ it's different. very, very different when he's confined in this small space, packed with memories he can't help but latch onto like a helpless child.

so long as he was in this carriage, he was powerless.

that was what he thought — before gran showed up, bright eyed and all.

his jaw clenches no less. ]

...There's nothing to fear. We're safe, Gran.

Are you telling me, or are you telling yourself?

[ If there's anything that has him fearful, it's just the way Percival can't seem to let go of his tension. There's phantoms in this carriage and they carry past the realm that Gran can touch. He can lay his head on Percival's back, he can touch his fingers into the fabric that hangs over a tense back, but he can't chase history and dread where it won't let him follow. ]

Percival...

...

[ he doesn't know how to respond to that. desperately, and helplessly, he wants to reach for his hand — wants to feel that warmth in the palm of his hand and not have to worry that death will come and snuff it out before he can even relish it.

percival doesn't. instead he looks towards gran at least, features hard but eyes shining with affection. ]

You're such a pain sometimes. You make me want to tell you about myself — I'm far from a storyteller, you know.

[ the corners of his lips quirk up. ]

Should I put you to sleep, then?

[ Gran smiles too. It's not clear if he does it in challenge, or just because he's glad to see Percival at least look to him and not at the past. Percival is a bit of a coward, in spite of himself, so the captain is the one who ends up entwining their fingers, in the end. ]

You can try, or you can accept defeat and start talking to me. It's gonna happen once way or the other.

[ almost gingerly, his fingers wind around gran's. they tighten as if he's reaffirming his presence — like this won't fade into nothingness. ]

I don't go down without a fight. You should know that well enough.

[ a pompous smirk addled with something tense. it eases into something warm and somewhat relaxed, however. ]

I'd rather hear about you first. There isn't a single detail that I don't desire.

[ Ahh, he looks like a jerk. He looks like a king, when he's like this. Gran hates it and loves it in equal measure. He retaliates by moving forward an placing his head on Percival's shoulderz which is a power move disguised as affection. ]

But there's nothing to talk about! You know everything about me.

[ He's just some poor orphan from Zinkenstill. Nice and easy. ]

Edited 2019-02-07 03:29 (UTC)

You know better than to lie to me.

[ always concealing something — in reality, they're no different from each other. he knows that deep within his heart. he accepts it for what it is, but he always wants more. so he squeezes gran's palm with longing, and inches a bit closer towards his face. ]

It's only natural that I would want to uncover everything there is to know about my vassal. What your childhood was like, what brings you joy, your fears — I'll learn one day at a time. Think I can manage?

I think you can try. Doesn't mean you'll get very far!

[ It always comes down to this: them challenging each other. He doesn't back off. If anything, his grin comes close to Percival's face, even closer. ]

What about my feelings right now?

Tch. That's what you think.

[ his smirk does not falter. not in the slightest. ]

I'm interested. But are you generous enough to tell me?

[ He shouldn't, but he does. His smile doesn't change, either. He could hardly be said to blink in the space of apparition and air between them. ]

Well, for starters, I'm in love with you.

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