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azimuth-only-one-ill-follow · 1 month

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You Questioned Our Determination

Ri sighed softly and stretched, turning himself over onto his belly and pillowing his head in his arms. Davan chuckled lightly and tucked a blanket around the slighter man in an attempt to keep him warm. Ri huffed and wriggled, working the blanket down to around his hips. He was still quite warm from their very enthusiastic and athletic romp, and for now, the blanket was more suffocating than comforting.

Davan fell silent then, and Ri made a curious noise. It wasn’t like Davan, who was more like his old self in these calm moments. Moments where he didn’t feel the weight of his choices and the prices they took. Moments he could still muster his youthful enthusiasm and exuberance. Moments where they were both too tired and too happy to remember that life had already happened to them, and that the future was no longer infinite.

It wasn’t that Exile’s Rest tied them down, not like their home village had, but it was still a ponderous millstone around Davan’s neck, keeping him firmly anchored in the here-and-now. It was a beloved burden that required careful tending, like a garden too delicate to allow one to travel. Like a sick child, or sheep in wolf country, or a river with beavers. An important and precious blessing that required constant upkeep and commitment.

Cities were not for apathetic dreamers.

Still, these were moments Ri could eke out where Davan would set that burden down. It had near instantly endeared him to Caedecus (so named by the slavers who first discovered his prodigal healing talent and divine favour), who had spent much of the last ten years convinced his liege and dear friend would work himself into an early grave. Caedecus was Ri’s favourite council member for the same reason: no matter how much Davan insisted all of them were his good friends, Caedecus was the only one who seemed to care more about Davan’s physical health than about what he could do for others.

Davan neatly sidetracked that thought by brushing his fingers soothingly over Ri’s back. It was such a nice feeling that it took far longer than it should have to notice Davan was following a pattern. A very clear pattern, now that Ri had noticed it.

Davan’s hand was shaking.

“Azimuth?” Ri questioned, turning slightly so he could see his love. This was likely the sort of conversation he was going to need visual clues to navigate.

Davan ducked down, out of Ri’s line of sight, and pressed a soft kiss to the worst of the raised marks lining his back. He couldn’t help the pleased hum that came from him at that, even though he knew it wasn’t entirely appropriate.

“What happened?” The rumble of his voice was soft in a way that Ri knew was meant to let him know he didn’t have to answer, but this wasn’t a secret. It had never been a secret.

It had been a counterstrike.

“The amount of malice it takes for six grown men to plot the murder of a boy doesn’t just vanish when the target does.” He replied just as softly, though there was steel underlying his words. He knew this would hurt Davan, but also knew he needed to know anyway. “I was… reminded of why it was a poor choice to defy my father.”

Davan sucked in a sharp breath, then gently placed his forehead against Ri’s back in penitence. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” Ri replied, blunt and calm. “When I said I’d never count the cost, I meant this too. I’d have borne far more than just this momentary pain for your safety, Azimuth. My only regrets are what happened to you, not what happened to me.” He flipped himself over, then grabbed Davan’s startled face in his hands. “This was not your doing. All you did was love me, and I will never allow that to be called a mistake.”

Davan brought his own hand up to cup one of Ri’s, then kissed the palm. “I’m still sorry it happened to you. You deserved more than him.”

Ri smirked up at him. “Everyone deserved more than him. He’s a pathetic waste of time and space who made everyone’s life worse for being in it, and I’m delighted that he’s now facing the decline of his physical prowess, the complete annihilation of his power base, the end of his vaunted lineage, and the fact that he knows I did it to him. That your influence alone was enough to turn his bred and raised perfect lackey into the instrument of his destruction. That your kindness was all it took to turn his attack dog back around to him, and that it was his brutality that destroyed his life in the end.”

Davan smiled down at him, hopelessly fond. “You’re so much more than that, Ri. I’ve always known that.”

“I’m more than that because you rescued me from the cage he was keeping me in.” Ri insisted, knowing it was true. “All of the good in me is simply a reflection of you. Without you, I would be nothing but a weapon.”

Davan shook his head fondly, then grew pensive. “I think you are kinder and more merciful than you believe, but I admit it concerns me that your father and his cronies might make more trouble now that you are not there to oppose them. I know you trust Edith to corral them, but six against one is unfair for anyone.”

Ri blinked at him. “What do you mean, six on one? All I left Edith to contend with was one broken old man, his legacy in ruins and his silver tongue tarnished from the exposure of his evil lies. She is more than a match for him, and even if she wasn’t I have burned too many of his bridges for him to rebuild.”

Now it was Davan’s turn to blink in surprise. “What happened to the rest of them?”

Ri shrugged. “I killed them.”

Sargent Liura strode into the hall, flanked by High Priest Caedecus and Archmage Idala. “This nonsense ends now.” She hissed out, causing Davan’s shoulders to set stubbornly and Derick to turn his big, blue puppy dog eyes her way. This time she had brought reinforcements, as Idala would back Davan even if he were wrong, and Caedecus was Derick’s most vocal supporter in the city. If these two idiots couldn’t get over themselves enough to have a reasonable discussion about this, then Liura would let Idala and Caedecus argue it in proxy. The last time they had let something fester as badly as this was, it had only ended when Derick had nearly died in battle.

No one was dying today, however. Not unless she killed them out of pure frustration.

She gestured around her, and her two chosen seconds moved to flank the men they were there to defend. Derick eyed the High Priest in wary confusion, while Davan smiled easily at one of his closest friends. Liura drew herself up to her full height, demanding all the attention in the room once again. “We are here,” She intoned solemnly, “To sort out the issue that is currently destabilizing the city. The Lord Protector has been distracted and prickly, and his temperament is mirrored by the city as a whole. It needs resolving.”

Derick nodded, his mouth firming with agreement and understanding. It was Davan, of course, who protested. “Liura, really, I am perfectly capable of managing my emotions and my affairs on my own. You don’t need to keep inserting yourself into them.”

It was Caedecus, surprisingly, who spoke up. He was the most mild mannered and easy going of the council, due to his time as a slave making him terrified of even his own authority. “Davan, please. You don’t eat, or sleep, or even train like you usually do. Headaches aren’t unusual for you, but you’ve had one three out of every four days for a fortnight now. The whole city is on edge as ripples of your ill temper and haggard appearance spread to all corners. It’s so clear to us all that you hate arguing with Derick. Please, won’t you let us help?”

Two pairs of beseeching eyes met his, and Davan’s displeasure collapsed like a snow fort in the spring. “Oh, all right. Let’s get this over with.”

Liura turned towards Derick, deciding easily to start with the compliant one. Davan was much more likely to explain his side if he felt like he was rebutting Derick’s explanation than if he was just asked his defence first. She nodded. He shrugged.

“Davan doesn’t like that I murdered five people in cold blood with no trial. No effort was ever made to bring them to justice in a more reasonable manner, and I’m not sorry I did it.” He asserted, blue eyes blazing.

She nodded once, then turned to Davan.

“Ri has admitted to choosing violence as his foremost problem solving technique without a concern for due process, fairness, or consequences. That makes him a dangerous liability, especially when he will not accept that this circumvents all the tenets this city is built on, or promise not to do it again and to allow the law to work as it should.” He rebutted decisively, proving once again that when these two argued this badly it was usually because they were arguing about different things at the same time.

She turned back to Derick, who was now looking just as stubborn as Davan. “Why did you never attempt to solve this through the usual means?”

“They were the source of the corruption in our hometown, and between them held the majority of the power in the town. Besides, I didn’t need a trial to know they were guilty. I heard them plotting to lynch Davan with my own ears. It’s why I falsely accused him of impropriety in the first place.” His voice rang clear, and it was obvious he was proud of his actions, not just accepting of them.

“Ri, that’s exactly the problem.” Davan burst in, frustrated and deeply bothered. “My point is that death should never be the default solution, and that you treat it far too casually.” He reached out to his lover, clearly imploring. “I’ve killed people myself. I know. Every death damages your soul in some way. Sometimes…” He hesitated then, and a dark cloud passed over his own expression. “Sometimes in a way that never heals.”

Derick was up in a heartbeat, crossing the room only to gather the renowned Lord Protector of Exile’s Rest up against his chest like he was comforting a child. It was truly something to see. “I don’t know who you killed that left this mark on your mind, Azimuth, but I am sure they deserved it. I trust your judgement. And as for my own killings… Dear One, I have killed exactly nine people. Most of them I can name, and all of them actively intended to kill you. I do not regret their deaths in the slightest, as killing them made things safer for you. I will not promise to stay my hand if you are in danger, but that has so far been the only thing I have killed for.”

Davan was silent at that, but Liura wanted to dig a little deeper into this. Otherwise it would continue to weigh on her friend’s mind.

“When did you decide to kill the first one? And how did you do it?” She asked, leaning slightly forward in her curiosity.

Derick shrugged. “I didn’t really decide, I just did.” He replied. “I was so very furious with them all for plotting against Davan, and my back was still wrecked, so I snuck out to go down to our hidden spot by the river. Jeremiah followed me, kept trying to feed me the mead he brought, and eventually tried to grope me. I was so disgusted with him I just kicked out his bad knee, grabbed the back of his head, and drowned him. Everyone assumed he got drunk and fell in, even my father. That was when I realized I could get rid of them all in supposed accidents, and the only one that might catch on would be my father. By then, though, I’d already have turned the public opinion tide. It became my purpose in life, as retribution for ever seeking to harm Davan.” He looked down and pulled Davan’s dark head further in, curling about the bigger man in an obviously protective gesture. “I didn’t think he’d ever find out about it, though. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.”

“Ri, I…” Davan began, but Liura had heard enough. While Derick might place Davan’s wellbeing too highly, Davan himself most definitely placed it too lowly.

“What if we remove Davan from the question?” She interrupted. Both men turned to look at her.

“It’s a matter of principle, Liura, changing the details doesn’t fix that.”

“Why on earth would we do that?”

They spoke over each other, united in their opinion that the suggestion was a stupid idea.

Liura, however, didn’t care what they thought of her idea. She was going with it anyway. “We remove Davan from the equation. What we’re left with is a traumatized and brutalized adolescent who had saved another youth at great personal cost who was still actively being harmed by the grown adult aggressors. During an attempted rape related to the first attack he defended himself, resulting in the death of the attacker. He then realized that he had the power to prevent them from hurting others, and he used it. Are you really going to stay mad at that child for seeking revenge, Davan? Or at the adult he became for not regretting those deaths? And Derick made a good point as well: His hands are much cleaner than either of ours.”

Davan’s brow creased in contemplation that rapidly shaded to unhappiness as he considered the situation from that point of view. She could almost see the moment he realized he agreed with her.

Derick, on the other hand, immediately and predictably lept to Davan’s defence.. “Don’t you say that about Davan!” He insisted. “His soul is the sort of incandescent that no mortal sin could tarnish. It is definitely brighter than mine.”

“Ri.” Davan whined, burying his face in one hand while the other snuck around to hold his lover close. Liura was sure his ears would be red if she could only see them. “That’s… Entirely incorrect. You have no idea what I’ve done in the years since we were youths. Liura knows that part of me better than you. I’ve killed… many, many more than your nine.”

“You’ve done what you needed to.” Derick insisted, his whole focus back on Davan. “Only what you needed to, with the needs of those around you and the best interests of all involved kept at the forefront of your mind. I know you did, because you could never have done otherwise. Even as a mercenary I know you were never needlessly cruel or gleeful about your skill. You were backed into a corner and did all you could to survive, and to keep those around you alive as well. I need no proof of it, but if you do consider this: Why did you leave the field as soon as you were able? Why found this city? Why fight so hard to give everyone as lost and hurt as you a safe place to heal and grow? When I say mortal sins cannot dull the brilliance of your soul I mean it. This includes the deaths you have dealt.”

“How about we let the Gods worry about their own scales?” Caedecus broke in, beaming at the both of them. “Their ways are not for mortal comprehension, and I feel both of you have no need to worry about that reckoning.” He reached out to lay a gentle hand on Idala’s shoulder, heedless of the sparks the Archmage was throwing out. “Instead, why don’t we head out to the practice field so Idala can let off some of her anger? I would rather not treat anyone for burns if I don’t have to, and now that she’s heard some details about who was targeting Davan when he was young and helpless she’s liable to burn the keep down.”

“An excellent idea.” Liura replied, striding towards the door. “Not you two, though!” She threw back as Davan made a move to stand up. “You stay here and have a moment. I think, after the last few weeks, you need it.”

“Azimuth?” Ri eventually questioned, running his hand through Davan’s hair. Even the echoes of the others had faded long before, but the taller man had made no move to react in any way. “Are you well?”

“I… Don’t like that Idala is upset. She doesn’t need to be. I’m fine.” He replied. Ri sighed, knowing this was going to be an ongoing discussion.

“She’s upset for you because she loves you. Like I do, like Caedecus does, like Liura does, like your whole city does. You’re easy to love, and so, so worth it. Even when it makes us sad or angry.” Ri explained, even though he knew Davan wasn’t ready to accept that truth.

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.” He insisted, and Ri couldn’t help but drop a sweet kiss on his head.

“I know you don’t, Azimuth, but we will. We gladly will. You deserve to be part of a better world than anything on this mortal plane can offer. We all know that. And we all love you for trying to make the world become that better version. Even if it fails, that vision is worth fighting for. You are worth fighting for. You remind us even on the bad days that things can be better, and you leave them that way in your wake just by touching the lives that you do and changing them for the better. I know you don’t see it as enough, but it’s so much more than anyone else can do.” He kissed him again, then tightened his grip. “Just… let us love you. Even if you can’t accept it for your sake, let us love you for ours. Our lives are so much better for it, even when it hurts.”

#my writing #Ri/Davan #third written part #arguing about Ri's violent tendancies

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azimuth-only-one-ill-follow · 1 month

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Thinking about the werewolf from the hate mail Lemgo council pharmacist David Welman (1595 - 1669) got after being accused of being a werewolf

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azimuth-only-one-ill-follow · 1 month

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If You Could See Inside My Heart

A quick healing spell had fixed him right up, dispersing the ringing in his ears and settling the anger in his bones, and his first clear thought was, I need to apologize to Ri.

Because Ri had done exactly what Davan had asked. He had gotten all the farmers safely to Exile’s Rest, including throwing three children up on his horse and helping a struggling mother with another toddler. He had alerted the guard, ensured Advisor Verity had been warned, and secured medical assistance both for the farmers and to be on standby when the patrol arrived.

Then he had gone back for Davan.

As much as he wanted to insist that Ri should have stayed in the walls, and should have known that Davan wanted him to stay in the walls… He wouldn’t have retreated if Ri was out fighting either.

He wasn’t sure what they were to each other at this point, this being the worst shipwreck of a relationship he had ever been in, but they were definitely too close to abandon each other.

Except Ri wouldn’t promise him that.

Ri had been the first and the worst of his lovers to break Davan’s heart, but he certainly hadn’t been the only one. The first five years of his exile had been hard in a host of ways, and learning that everyone only ever wanted something from you had made it worse. Even if that something was as simple and uncomplicated as casual sex, no one would hesitate to walk away when he had been used up. Ri had reasons for what he’d done, good ones, and he swore up and down that Davan was now, always had been, and forever would be the only one he loved… But his actions didn’t match up with his words, and he utterly refused to promise it would never happen again. It made him impossible to trust, and half the time he was absurdly standoffish like he didn’t even want to be around Davan and it seemed like he was only interested when it was Davan chasing him…

But he never crossed the line into abandoning Davan.

Again.

Like he had previously been forced to do done.

Yet that hadn’t stopped him from pushing Davan out of the way of what would have been a killing blow after he’d fallen to his knees, head ringing like a bell. That hadn’t stopped him from running the bandit attempting to kill Davan straight through, then kicking him off his sword contemptuously. The sharp motions had actually snapped part of Ri’s cheap (all he could afford on his farrier’s pay, and he wouldn’t let Davan spend on him) sword off, and none of that had stopped him from raising Davan’s sword in Davan’s own defense.

All of which, though Davan didn’t know it at the time, had been done while bleeding out from the stab through his kidney that he had taken for Davan’s sake.

And Davan had been furious about it. He’d been seeing double and couldn’t make his legs work and Ri had been incandescently glorious while he’d been protecting Davan like it was normal and not completely the opposite of how it always happened and all he could think was you never stay…

And he’d taken it out on Ri the moment the last bandit had fallen.

Ri had reached for him, gently feeling out his head injury and supporting his wavering body even as Davan had screamed at him. All of his fears of the bandits and his fears for Ri’s life and his fears for his own life and his fears of Ri leaving him again had all jumbled together and poured out of his mouth in a river of vile cruelty he hadn’t even realized he was capable of until that moment. And Ri had just taken it, agreeing and soothing Davan even as his blue eyes clouded and spilled, and his fair complexion became ruddy and tear streaked.

And then he had collapsed.

Daven had screamed in pure terror as Ri’s eyes rolled up and he canted sideways, but Sergeant Liura had caught the man as he tilted. She had lowered him to the ground and quickly checked him over as Davan fought for the muscle control to grab his precious person’s hand. He’d heard her give her report, but hadn’t understood it at the time, transfixed with the grey sheen coming to Ri’s face. He hadn’t responded until she had hoisted Ri over her shoulder and shushed his automatic protest, insisting that it was critical the smaller man be returned to town. She hadn’t even waited for the rest of the squad, had just deputized one of the uninjured ones to make sure Davan was supported and took off at a run.

He had asked his support what had become of his lover, and the uncomfortable looking young man had simply replied, “The sergeant thinks a kidney. He must have gotten it when he pushed you out of the way.”

Davan had blinked slowly, then asked if Ri would live.

“I don’t know, sir.”

He never stays…

And then Davan had burst into tears.

All in all, none of that had been a particularly good showing, and Davan felt deeper and deeper shame as he considered the interaction. It was embarrassing that a bandit had gotten enough of a drop on him to stun him, it was flat out dangerous that he had been a liability on the field, and the way he had treated Ri…

Well, perhaps Ri was right to keep him at arm’s length.

He wanted to run to his beloved’s side, but knew it was pointless. Though he had been healed with a powerful magic that would bring him back to fighting fit in a heartbeat, Ri wouldn’t have. He would be sleeping it off in the infirmary, as everyone who was injured in the line of duty did. Healing magic was precious, and not to be squandered. They ran the risk of being unprepared if it turned out the bandits were a feint, after all. Just because he loved Ri didn’t mean he could bend that rule for him.

Not that rule, but perhaps another one?

Sergeant Liura fell into step with him the moment he left the keep. She was silent for over half the journey, but he’d known her long enough to read her displeasure and unease in her body language.

He didn’t blame her.

“You must really hate him.” She finally ventured.

He shook his head. “I love him.” He confessed, something he hadn’t said in well over a dozen years.

“It didn’t sound that way to me.” She replied, her voice carefully neutral.

He wrung his hands, feeling like a scolded child. “I know.”

“He was really hurt by what you said to him.” She continued, pressing gently. “You could see it in his face. We all could.”

“I’m on my way to apologize.” He admitted, voice catching from the force of the emotions churning within him.

“He won’t be awake yet.”

“I want to be there when he wakes up,” He muttered. “Plus I know I'll never get any sleep if I don't even go see him.”

She nodded solemnly, and they continued on to the infirmary in a slightly more comfortable silence.

Only once they reached the doors did she speak again, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look up at her. “Sort this out.” She insisted. “I don’t know what’s between you, but it’s tearing you up and changing you in ways you hate, and I don’t really think it’s Derick’s fault. It’s something in you that’s poisoning you, and it needs to be lanced before it hurts you. And if that lancing involves digging out the source of the infection and discarding it, just let me know.” She smiled at him in a way that was probably meant to be comforting but was instead terrifying. “I’m pretty good at running people out of town myself, and I’ll always take your side.”

He smiled then, her unwavering support even in the face of his uselessness and cruelty making him feel worlds better. “Thank you, but I do not think that will be necessary. That would probably just make it worse.”

She shrugged. “The offer stands if that situation changes.” She assured him, giving him a single shake before turning on her heel and leaving him to it. He sighed, then turned to the door of the infirmary and inched it open, sliding in silently. He didn’t want to wake anyone, after all.

It turns out he didn’t have to worry about that, as the large main room was empty. There had actually been relatively few injuries from the attack, with Ri and Davan himself being easily the worst. Normally there still would have been an acolyte on night duty in the hall, but right now he was missing. A door down the hallway was partially open, spilling light into the hallway.

Davan paused, suddenly unsure of his plan. He had intended to ask the night acolyte to point him to Ri’s room, but they were apparently with another patient. Given the time, there was a decent chance that whoever was there wouldn’t want others to know they were visiting the healers. He didn’t want to disturb them…

But he so desperately wanted to see Ri.

Eventually he decided to head over a knock softly at the door, enough to alert the acolyte to another person, but not enough to disturb anyone sleeping in the other rooms. That plan lasted only until he got close enough to recognize the second voice.

Ri was awake.

He slid into the room, unable to resist getting close enough to see the other man, but still unable to bear the thought of being in the same room as him with this shame on him. He wanted to see Ri…

But he really didn’t want Ri to see him.

It was all for naught, unfortunately, as Ri seemed to sense him the moment he stepped into the room, His head snapped around and his bright blue eyes widened with joy, then narrowed in stubbornness. "I won't ever apologize for saving your life." He snapped. "Not before, and not this time either."

Davan paused mid step, caught entirely off-guard. “I… Don’t expect you to?” He tried, not entirely sure how to handle Ri’s comment or his belligerence, never mind his own shame. He had expected some hostility from the smaller man, but over his own words rather than Ri’s actions. The acolyte slipped silently behind him to leave the room.

“You definitely do.” Ri insisted, twisting his mouth into a petulant frown. “You bring it up all the time, then get mad at me when I won’t.”

He weighed his possible responses for a moment before continuing to pad softly into the room. "I'm not entirely certain what conversations you're referring to," he began, approaching Ri like the other man was a skittish horse, "But I know that's not what I meant to ask for."

"You do." Ri insisted, tears gathering in his eyes. "You call me a stubborn brat, complain about me not apologizing, and completely ignore me. So I give you space because you hate it when I crowd you when you're angry, and then two days later you're back at my door wanting to hold me again." He was shuddering now, clearly trying to hold back sobs, and Davan broke first.

"Oh, sunshine," he whispered, gathering Ri up in his arms. The other man collapsed into him crying. "I'm sorry I make you this sad."

"I'm not." He insisted wetly. His continued sobs did not sell it. "You're here and father isn't and I get to spend all day with horses and everyone is nice. I'm not sad except when you're so mad at me, but you've been mad at me for years! I don't usually cry over it!"

Davan kissed Ri on the top of his head and held him tighter. With a different partner he might even worry about them, but Ri was as tough as an old boot and liked feeling that connected, like Davan could actually pull him in tight enough to make them one flesh. For one moment they hung on a swords edge, frozen in time while Davan tried to figure out what to say. Eventually he decided to simply start and hope the words would come to him.

"I'm so, so sorry, Ri. Absolutely nothing I said out there to you was appropriate, kind, or even true. My head injury had me all muddled and I couldn't separate my fears and my past from your actual actions. That doesn't excuse my reaction, but I hope it helps explain it even just a bit. I know you've never listed my faults for everyone in a bar, slept with my friend, or purposely gave my position to the enemy for a few coins, but in that moment I couldn't keep it all straight. I…”

“Names.” Ri demanded, snapping his head up so suddenly Davan almost bit his tongue off.

“What.” He questioned flatly, bringing one hand up to rub at his chin. That had hurt.

“Give me their names. All of them. I’m going to make them regret they were ever born.” There was determination in every line of Ri’s body, and his eyes were as hard as flint even with the tears still flowing from them. “They had the opportunity to know you and they threw it away and they hurt you and…”

“No.” He replied, just as resolute as his lover. “No, I’m not giving you their names why in the names of all the gods would I do that? It was years ago and far away and several of them are dead anyway and it’s the middle of the bedamned night and you just received a healing, do you really think I’m going to let you go anywhere right now?”

They stared at each other for a moment and Davan truly thought they were about to have an actual fight over this complete nonsense… And then Ri gave way with a very ill-humoured sulk. “They deserve it.” He insisted, but Davan was having none of it.

“People get hurt in life, it’s part of the whole thing. That doesn’t mean you can cut a bloody swath through the countryside, Ri, that’s insane. Besides, I’d miss you if you went away.” He hadn’t meant to say that last bit, didn’t like how vulnerable it made him, was a bit too honest, but it worked in a way nothing else had. All of the tension flowed out of the slighter man’s body and Davan suddenly found himself supporting the equivalent of a dead eel.

Ri smiled up at him, almost purring. It was the happiest Davan had seen him since they were children. “Really, Azimuth? You’d miss me? Even with all the other people you know?”

“Of course I would.” He muttered back, face aflame. But, well, might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. “I always miss you when you’re gone. Even when I was newly banished and so angry, I missed you as much as I hated you.” He winced then, remembering Ri’s words from earlier. “I don’t like it when you’re gone from my side, even when I’m the one driving you off. Every time I worry that it might be the last time, that this time you might just keep walking. It… dishumours me.” That was an understatement, and from the twitchy little smirk Ri was making, he knew it. “Why are you so surprised? You miss me as well.”

‘Every moment of every day.” He replied, caring not one bit how it sounded, the self-satisfied jerk. “If I’m not with you, I miss you. I crave you. I wish I could spend every moment next to you, from now until the end of time. I don’t even want you to leave to use the privy because I know I’ll miss you while you’re gone. You’re the center of my world. You’re my sun and stars and the rain in my field and the wind in my sails. This isn’t news. I’ve told you how I feel before.”

“Not like this.” Davan all but wailed, bright red and with his pulse thundering so loud he almost couldn’t hear. He’d never been more embarrassed in his life… but he’d also never been happier. Nobody had ever adored him the way Ri did, and the honest love in his voice was more than Davan knew how to handle.

“You’re so cute.” Ri crowed, absolutely delighted. "I haven't been able to make you blush since Before! This is amazing!"

"It is not," Davan snapped, annoyed with both himself and his beloved. "I'm the Lord Protector of Exile's Rest, I'm an accomplished warrior and a seasoned politician, and it's been years since I was a wide-eyed youth who could be swayed by a sweet word. I am not cute!"

Ri gave him such a fond smile Davan almost melted right to the floor. "You couldn’t be swayed by a volcano, let alone mere words. You'd just plant yourself in front of whatever you were defending and make the world bend around you. It's part of what makes you cute."

Davan blinked at him for a moment, totally caught off guard. Usually his hard-headed stubbornness was the insurmountable obstacle that led to betrayal. To hear Ri, who had seen it in action more often than any other person in Davan's life, talk about it with fondness and affection was… Unexpected.

“You say that like it’s a virtue.”

"It is." Ri replied, simple and clear. "It's one of your greatest virtues."

A small, wry smile curled the corner of Davan's lips. "Most would disagree."

"Most can't bear the reflection of their own sins that comes from standing next to one so pure and indomitable as you. It makes them feel inadequate.” It was said like it was an irrefutable truth, but it was one Davan wasn’t willing to face. He chose instead to deflect.

“But not you?” He teased, gentle and fond.

“I hold no illusions as to who I am or what I’ve done.” Ri replied, proud in a way that only came with total conviction in his choices. “I don’t need to fear the reflection because I know what it will show. Why would I fear the shadow, and the shapes it holds, when I know it comes from your light? Hiding the objectionable parts of myself would never be worth it if it meant hiding from you. I will stand in that light as often as I can possibly manage, no matter what it shows or how it burns.”

“But not forever.” Davan replied, his elation crashing down as he suddenly remembered why Ri distempers him so. “You say this, believe this, but won’t ever promise me that. That you won’t leave again. That you won’t push me away again like you did when we were young. Like I won’t still be alone at the end of it all, as all my hopes and dreams burn to ash and slip from my fingers. As I’m left standing in the wreckage of the life I thought I’d get to have, searching desperately for something, anything, to begin rebuilding with.”

Ri’s face clouded over, joy dropping off to something almost pensive. He pulled back just slightly, just enough to take one of Davan’s hands in his and bring it up to face level. There he cradled it as if it was the finest glasswork, running his fingers over the scars and calluses he could find as if they were just as precious as the unblemished skin.

“Azimuth, love, I would walk through the fires of hell for you. I would follow you to the ends of the earth and beyond. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe. So no, I cannot promise you I will never leave or push you away again. I said it before and I’ll say it again, I would make a thousand more deals with a thousand more devils and never count the cost if it would protect you. That includes, if necessary, leaving first. I cannot even begin to imagine the circumstances that would convince me to do so, and that choice would tear my own heart to shreds as much as yours, but long ago I did promise you forever. It was a promise I meant with my whole heart, and it was a promise I broke. I need you to know I mean the promises I make to you, like the promise to love you until the end of time and beyond, and that means I will not make you promises I cannot keep.” He kissed Davan’s knuckles then, an act of devotion, then turned his hand over to kiss his palm, an act of love. “Not to you. Not ever to you. Not again.”

It was what he didn’t know he needed to hear. It was like a balm soothing his fractured heart and warming his chilled soul. It was so much more than he had been looking for, and maybe… Maybe he could believe it, that he could have and keep the greatest love he had ever known. That they could nurture it together as it blossomed into something wonderful. Something that would tie them together even if they were separated, and bring them back to each other in the fullness of time.

He didn’t even know he was crying until Ri gently set his hand down to instead cup his face and wipe his tears away. After that there was no holding back, and silent weeping quickly became wrenching sobs as his soul finally cleansed one of it’s oldest wounds. Ri cooed at him and guided him down to join him on the too-small infirmary bed, and Davan had no fight left in him to resist with. Instead he just allowed Ri to tuck him down under the smaller man’s chin and wrap him up, as if Davan was someone small and delicate who needed and deserved to be treated with gentleness and soothed. As if he was the one who had been hurt and was healing. As if it was simple to just… Coddle him in this way…

Davan fell asleep like that, tucked safely into Ri’s arms and feeling protected and cherished for the first time ever. It was the best sleep he ever had.

#my writing #Only One I'll Follow #Ri/Davan #second story #bandits #apology

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azimuth-only-one-ill-follow · 1 month

Text

Never Count the Cost

He knew it didn’t show on his face, he’d had far too much practice for that, but his disdain and fury was clear in the set of his shoulders to all who knew him well. His second, on the right; his advisor, on the left; three of the dozen guards in the room (the veterans, the ones that came with him when he left the mercenary company) and… One of the delegation.

The absolute balls on these fuckers, to come waltzing into his presence as if they were wanted. As if they would be welcomed. As if they weren’t betrayers.

Especially him.

The whole group was made up of people he hated. His much older brother, who had always begrudged their parent’s surprise child his existence; the old priest, who had declared him an irredeemable sinner in front of the whole congregation; the shopkeeper’s daughter, who had spread lies about him as easily as she did everyone else. And him. The worst of them all. They had come seeking trading opportunities, as the easiest route to move goods out of the new City-State of Exile’s Rest would go right through their town. Between the river and the high road, it would transform their sleepy little backwater into a bustling transport hub.

After ten years, however, it was obvious it was being avoided on purpose.

He could have laughed at the looks on their faces when they’d come through the door. The priest and the new shopkeep hadn’t even recognized him at first, and his brother’s face had gone near purple with rage.

He, however, had had a most peculiar reaction. His eyes had licked up and down in a way that would have felt lustful from anyone else, but in the end the only expression on his face had been relief. And then he had smiled.

Bastard.

He turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The delegation was finally wrapping up their presentation, and then it would be his turn to respond.

The silence weighed heavily on the room as they stopped talking, but he made no move to break it. The group before him got more and more nervous as it drug on, and he was enjoying watching them squirm.

He stood suddenly, watching three of the four of them flinch back. “Tell me,” He intoned, “What do you know of my city’s history?” The three gaped at him like landed fish, but the last one, that dick, looked almost proud. “Nothing? I’ll give you a refresher then.” He took a sip from the goblet his advisor handed him, letting the moment stretch. “Exile’s Rest is exactly that. It is a place for those unjustly exiled from their past to find a new place, a new home, with those that understand their pain. Part of understanding that pain is that we do not treat with those who have harmed our fellows. We do not strike out at them, but we do not treat with them either. For many of our citizens, this merely means they never have to interact with those that hurt them. Most are satisfied with this. Not many people can sustain the sort of anger that drives a whole city to turn its back on others. Unfortunately for you, the one you exiled is me. And I can sustain that rage. So long as I draw breath we will not send our goods through your town. You have wasted your time and mine, and all that will come of it will be the stories of the splendor you see here that will never come to your homes. You may stay until the end of the week, should you wish to seek out independent merchants, but you must be gone by the tenth bell five mornings from now. I wish to not see your faces in the meantime.” He took another sip from his goblet. “Dismissed.”

Then he swept from the room, heavy cape trailing behind him.

"Tell me," he announced to the seemingly empty room, "What part of I wish to not see your faces did you not understand."

The laugh that came was light and airy, and completely unsuited for the situation. The situation, or those involved. He grit his teeth as the betrayer stepped out of the shadows, still bright and light and perfect. He shifted slightly, feeling the pull of old wounds that had never healed quite right. Perfect like I could never be. He thought, an old feeling that had somehow survived his exile. He shook it off.

"I wanted to see you, Davan. That's why I came. That's the only reason I came. I just wanted to see you were well." He was still smiling, still looked sweet and innocent in a way Davan knew he wasn't.

"What you want isn't important here, Frederick. I've more than half a mind to call the guards on you for attempted assassination." It was mostly a bluff. He could handle anything this dandy could throw at him, and it might make him feel better to give the other man a good thrashing.

Big blue doe eyes stared at him adoringly. He clenched his jaw and ignored them.

"But you won't." Frederick replied with complete confidence. "You don't waver. If you were going to do so, you'd have done it."

"What made you so certain I wouldn't?" He asked, curious despite himself. His voice was hostile in a way he would normally take care to temper, but for this man he let it growl out as roughly as it wanted.

Frederick’s eyes widened, but he couldn’t quite place the look in them. “I didn’t.” He said, shrugging. “I gambled on you preferring to solve things yourself when you can, but I knew the risks. I chose to try anyway.”

“You aren’t that stupid.” He countered, eyes narrowing. “You don’t do anything without worrying through all the outcomes. What really made you decide this risk was worth it?”

He laughed again, but this one was tinged ever so slightly with bitterness. If Davan hadn’t known him so well - back when we were young, back when he was my Ri, back when the world seemed full of possibilities- it probably would have gone unnoticed. “I’m not afraid of everything anymore, Davan. I haven’t been since you left. Once you were out of our reach, out of my reach, there was nothing left to leverage against me. I’ve never loved anyone else like I love you, so what did I have to fear? The worst had already happened, and I caused it myself. I drove you away, I spread those rumours, I did that. All by myself. What were my father’s punishments compared to that? How could anything compare to that?”

“You know that, and you still dare to come before me? To speak with me like you deserve to be allowed to do so? After all the strife you’ve caused me you dare to come before me like this can be forgiven?” His volume was rising, but to his great surprise Frederick didn’t cow before him as he alway had for raised voices.

“I’m not here for forgiveness!” He bellowed back. “Forgiveness is for people who are sorry, and I’m not! I stand by my choices and I would do it again. I’m just here to see you!” He deflated then, looking small in a way Davan hadn’t expected this newer, brasher Frederick to be not like his Ri and turning away slightly, “I knew you’d be brighter than any star once you shook the dirt of our town from your boots, I trusted in that… But I still just wanted to see you. Just once. Because I know I did what had to be done, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t desperately wanted proof you rose above all we did to you.”

“Rose above…” Davan snarled, forcing Frederick into the wall like the mountain of muscle he was before slamming his hands next to the smaller man’s head, using his whole body to intimidate. Blue eyes flew up to meet his furious brown ones, and he was almost baffled enough to back off by the way the pupils blew out as the smaller man’s breath caught.

That… was a new reaction to him throwing his battle-hardened weight around.

Only almost, however, as this was a bone he’d been gnawing on for half his life, and now he finally had a chance to pick it clean. “Rose above? You cause me no end of trouble with your filthy lies. You cost me my home, my family, my apprenticeship, my pets,” He could feel himself getting more overwhelmed, enough to say things he still truly wanted hidden, but he couldn’t stop himself at this point. “My person, the one being who I trusted and loved above all others… YOU COST ME US AND YOU DARE TO SAY TO MY FACE THAT I COULD SIMPLY ‘RISE ABOVE’? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU DID TO ME?”

“I DID IT TO ME TOO!” Frederick howled, sounding truly anguished. He fisted his hands in Davan’s tunic and pulled, ending with his face pressed tight to the taller man’s muscular chest as his shoulders shook. His voice dropped to a whimpery whisper, one Davan could barely hear over the pounding of his own blood. “I did it to me too. I don’t regret what I did, I’ll never regret what I did, but I’ll always regret that those choices hurt you. You never deserved that hurt. You never could deserve that hurt. I wish I could have been the only one hurt. I’d have borne your hurt as well as mine if I could, and still count it as a light cost.”

Davan sighed and wrapped one arm around the sobbing man clinging to him. Even with all his rage… he couldn't not. Not with someone he had cared so deeply for. He just didn't have it in him to turn someone so distressed away when they sought comfort.

A fact Frederick knew too well. "You shouldn't let me do this." He murmured through sobs he was clearly desperately trying to quell. "You shouldn't let me take comfort from you. Your anger is valid, and you shouldn't set it aside for my sake."

Davan sighed heavily. "Why don't you tell me your reasons while we're here. They have… they do, weigh heavily on me."

The blond head buried in his chest bobbed slightly. Just the once, but Davan knew it was there. A heavy sigh let him know that he would shortly have his answers.

"You know my father hates you." He started. It wasn't really a question. Everyone had known how the headsman had felt about the scrappy, half-feral, underfed and unkept youngest of a local farm family for daring to hang around his own precious offspring. "Well, he found out about us. That we were more than friends. And he hated you even more for it." Frederick snorted then, still watery but getting clearer. "Oh, not for the reasons he said he did. You were a bad influence on me to him, but not because you got in fights. Because you got in fights defending smaller children from bullies. Because you defended me. Because you felt I was worth defending. Because you dared to show me I could ever be more than his cowed and cowardly puppet. That I was worth compassion, and care, and love. That I could dream, and eventually become greater than he planned for me. He hated that you whisked me out from under his thumb even as he tightened his grip. So when he found out about us he started up with his sneaky, backbiting rumours. But he didn't tell them you were getting too close to me." He took a deep breath, and Davan felt his own breath catch in his chest as he waited for the final puzzle piece that would make things make sense. "He told them you were getting close with my cousin."

It took Davan a moment to process that, and when he did he reared back in shock. "To Maya?" He asked incredulously. "She was five." Frederick nodded, tears still running down his face. He looked miserable.

"I caught wind of what he was doing and went on the offensive. I enlisted the help of that gossip I traveled with and insisted I had been done wrong. That you were just… Insistent. I used every ounce of charm, goodwill, and authority I had to run you off as quickly as I could, as far as I could. Because my father wasn't looking to exile you, Davan. He was looking to lynch you. And I'd have woken to the corpse of the love of my life dangling from the tree we used to use to sneak me out." Frederick was full on sobbing again, and Davan gathered him back up in his arms, whispering soothing nonsense into his hair. The smaller man clung to him, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "So I just needed to see, even though I knew you'd shine brighter than the sun as soon as people stopped shoving you into the shadows. Because I still have nightmares about it, sometimes."

He looked up sharply then, his blotchy, tearstained face suddenly fierce. "That's why I'll never regret my choices. They saved your life. And I would make a thousand more deals with a thousand more devils to keep you safe, and never count the cost. It would always be worth it." He grabbed the sides of Davan's face with both hands and gave him a slight shake for emphasis. "Always."

And Davan was weak for this man, had always been weak for his precious, beloved and loathed, Ri, so he let his old love shine through. Just for a moment. It didn't, couldn't, undo the last fifteen years, but he wanted to honour the desperate strength of a terrified adolescent who had done all he could to protect another, even at great cost to himself.

Frederick still saw it, had always seen right through Davan. His eyes widened again and, in an echo of his earlier response, his pupils blew out like they were trying to eclipse the shockingly bright blue ring. Then he pulled Davan down into a sudden kiss that, for all the furious violence they poured into it, still felt like home.

He had always been weak for his Ri.

Davan generally didn't feel like a terrible person. He lived by a strict moral code and associated with people of similar caliber. There were lines he had sworn would never cross, and until last night he had always been true to those ideals.

He knew what that ring on Frederick’s finger meant.

He’d had him anyway.

What they had once had was no excuse for his appalling lack of judgment. Even though it had been Frederick’s oath that had been broken, he knew his hands were not clean.

Betraying a partner had never been something he’d condone, even before his stance had solidified.

Yet he had.

He buried his face deeper into the pillows, half-seriously attempting to smother himself and his shame. A light chuckle reached his ears, and he flinched violently when a hand came to lay softly on his back.

“Easy now, easy, it’s just me,” That betrayer whispered, amusement in his voice. “I didn’t expect you to hate mornings so. You were always up and chipper so early as a youth.”

Davan snarled, but didn’t bother to remove his face from the pillow. “Farm work starts early.” He grit out. “I’d always been up for hours when I’d sneak off to see you. It wasn’t a choice.”

“Fair enough,” Frederick laughed, obviously in a great mood now that his latest treachery had concluded. “I’m still surprised to see you abed at nine bells, however. You were always too ambitious for sloth.”

“And you too lazy for ambition.” He shot back, too much acid in his tone for it to truly be in jest. He could tell it stung by the momentary pause, but in the end Frederick just laughed lightly to mask his hurt.

"Lazy, I may be, but today I don't have the option to lie abed, as tempting as you make it." The hand stroked along his spine again, lingering in a way that… somehow didn't feel sexual.

It felt like a farewell.

"Possibly I shouldn't have waited until the last night here to break into your chambers, but I had convinced myself that seeing you in the throne room was enough. I was lying to myself with that, I'm never going to get enough of you, but I can't fix that now. I have to go." The hand left him then, and Davan wanted to cry.

He struck out instead. "Back to your cushy life and your wife?" He asked, poison in the last word.

"To Edith? Oh, no, she knew I was never returning to that backwater we come from. She's welcome to it. And now that my father has no power there, I'm glad to never think of it again." Frederick replied, confused hurt turning to casual indifference as he went on.

Davan was shocked enough to pull his face from the sheets and stare at the smaller man. Which was a mistake, as he had not yet located his pants and the purple marks forming on his thighs were deliciously distracting. "You're abandoning your spouse?" He thundered, yanking his attention back to the matter at hand. "How could you, when you promised to love and cherish her?"

"Edith knows our score very well." Frederick bit back. "Not only was the marriage a politically motivated sham, it was her idea. She knew I was in love with you, and that suited her perfectly. She’s as ambitious as you, even if nowhere near as kind, and with her help I was able to cut every. Single. Strand. Of my father’s web of power. Her price for it was simply that I elevate her in his place, so now our deal is concluded.”

“A marriage vow is a promise made before the gods, Frederick, you cannot just ignore it when it no longer suits you.” Davan insisted, feeling like he was explaining things to an unruly toddler. “There are formalities to divorce that dissolve those bonds, but they still mark your soul. The judges see those marks, and you add to them every time you’re unfaithful. They are not without mercy and take circumstances into consideration in weighing the marks, but the marks remain.”

Frederick sniffed haughtily. “I know that.” He insisted, looking peeved. “But the challenge issued by Caerthon the Unthroned to his step-mother, the Dark Queen Isidria, proved through the response of the Sacred Sword that the gods only account for consummated marriages made in good faith. They don’t glorify people for legal expediency, but they certainly don’t punish them for it, either.”

Davan knew all this, of course he did, but his mind hung up on Frederick’s peculiar emphasis. “Consummated marriages?”

Frederick crossed his arms and hunkered down into a true annoyed huff. Davan fought the urge to coo over it.

“Yeah, consummated. So regardless of the ring or what that shithole town thinks, I am not and have never been truly married.”

“You’ve never slept with your wife?” Davan repeated, baffled. “You trusted her enough to scheme and dream and work together, to plan a life even, but never enough to take her to your bed?”

“Trust was not the issue.” He replied icily, speaking slowly as if to a dullard. “Desire was. I only ever wanted you, and she doesn’t want anyone. It worked for us, and now it doesn’t, so I’m on my way. No hard feelings, and all according to plan.” He planted his hands on his hips, unintentionally highlighting his continued lack of clothing.

“Only ever…” Davan’s voice caught as a new, horrifying thought crashed into his mind. His eyes trailed back to Frederick’s thighs, now with even more guilt churning in his gut. The hickies were… fine, they were fine, but some of those marks showed teeth and he’d gripped one leg so tight to him at one point that there was a line of fingerprints trailing up from his knee.

He’d thought last night that Ri took marks beautifully, but now, in the daylight, it was easy to remember that bruises are caused by pain.

“Please tell me,” He began, fighting the sudden constriction of his throat, “That you have taken someone to bed before, even if not Edith? The miller’s apprentice, or even that guard sergeant…” Some of his distress obviously bled through his voice, or perhaps his body language, because Frederick dropped his anger in an instant to fly to his side, wrapping him up and tucking Davan into his body in a clear attempt to shield him from his own mind. He stroked his hair soothingly and murmured soothing nonsense at him. He didn’t pull back until Davan had matched his breathing and gotten two full breaths in.

“Davan… I’ve said a few times that all I’ve ever wanted was you. Why, in the name of all the gods, would I bother bringing someone else to bed? I don’t want them there. I’ve never wanted them there. And it would just upset me and them that it wasn’t you.”

He… wasn’t prepared to parse that right now. Not in the middle of a different crisis. “How are you walking?” He blurted out, remembering his own first time too clearly. He’d still been mostly a child, by the gods, but that had only made him more appealing. He'd been lost and afraid and vulnerable, easy prey for the sort of man who preferred new snow. The merchant had been kind, true, but male sex was never easy for the uninitiated. The next day he hadn’t been capable of walking, and had been bundled up in the wagon with the man’s goods.

And Davan hadn’t been kind.

Frederick blinked at him, then burst into peals of laughter. “Oh, Azimuth. You had your hands all over my back yesterday. You know who my father is. I can stand tall no matter what state my body is in. These marks are my treasures, and I will revere them as long as they last. Besides, I am not injured. A little stiff and a bit sore, but not injured. You don’t have it in you to hurt a lover, no matter your rage. And you have never, never, handled me in any way that made me feel anything less than cherished.” He grabbed Davan’s face then in a tight grip, forcing him to maintain eye contact. “You hear me, sir, and you listen. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing. I am not spoken for, I was not coerced, I have not been led on, and I am not injured. I kissed you. I saw a chance to have what I wanted most in the world, and you let me take it.”

Davan glared at the other man, but Frederick just held him steady until finally he nodded his acquiescence. Then the golden man smiled his heartstopping smile, pecked Davan on his forehead obnoxiously, and stepped back. “Now that we have that sorted, I really need to go. I’m going to take a pair of your pants out of your wardrobe there, because mine appear to be missing. I don’t have time to look for them any more, I’ve got to get to the gates immediately.”

Davan couldn’t help the wounded noise that pulled from him. Frederick raised one eyebrow in suspicious bafflement. “You’re leaving? Just like that?”

The other eyebrow crept up to join it. “Uh, Azimuth, you banished me. This isn’t my idea.”

Davan groaned dramatically and threw himself back down on the bed. “Fine, you’re unbanished, now come cuddle. I want to start this day over again without the emotional whiplash.” He heard the wardrobe open anyway, and made another sad noise.

“You still need to tell the guards that, Milord.” Ri was laughing at him now, but Davan could feel him settle himself back on the bed so he called it a win anyway. “And for that… you probably want pants.”

#my writing #Only One I'll Follow #the first story in this universe #originally a writing prompt

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