At the end of Dima's speech - after Faolan's eyes have drifted away and been summoned back, after his head has inclined to Dima's touch and sorry moved in traceable waves through his expression - Faolan thinks Dima is trying to understand.
Just as Faolan is trying.
But the channel between himself and what Dima wants is vast and full of treacherous waters, and surely all the belief in the world won't be enough to alter this particular fate.
He shifts closer and leans his head against Dima's, breathing in the scent of him, of Liviana, of the three of them together. It's enough; it will be enough for him, he thinks. Just this.
"You have my time, my love. All my days ahead. Better to use it blessing the moments that are, rather than wishing for something different. I'll be here at your side; I'll be content as your companion, your lover, your consort. Your friend."
He draws the other man into his arms, careful not to jostle Liviana, or careful to allow her time to flutter to a different perch, and when they've settled comfortably, he sighs. "What will you do? Give up your title and follow me into the woods, hm? Live in a little hut with me, when you could just as well have me in a fine estate, all over the matter of a ring?"
Slowly, his own hand cards through Dima's hair. "Have you considered you might be worth more than that to me? That I'm willing to trade my pride to be beside you, so long as I am beside you?"
<.>
He melts into Faolan’s embrace, heart fluttered in its beating, heart thawed by this tenderness, offered in the midst of what must be fraught feelings, the jagged edges left by hopes torn from their roots, by lacerations rendered in violent rejections. Again, he thinks, ‘You’re braver than you know.’ And Dmitri knows himself so endlessly fortunate, to have even this moment, which is worlds within itself. How, how could he abandon this man, or what they have together?
Equally: How could Faolan trust to anything beyond, or to permanence? It’s a wonder - it’s a gift - that he should entertain the thought of Dima at all, or keep him held in sound assurance, offering love, speaking gently in spite of everything he’s learned.
And though Dima looks bewildered by Fae’s questions - though he feels side-swiped by all the hollows they suggest - he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t draw a breath from Fae’s embrace. Only leans his head into Faolan’s touch. Only lets his own hand trace the line of Faolan’s collarbone, his shoulder, his throat. A study in wonder; another step in learning, learning all the planes and parts of what this man is, and holds, and will yet be.
Eyes unwavering - though blinking, slightly, slightly, against a burn he hasn’t noted - he huffs a breath, the trace of a sad laugh, and shakes his head, careful not to disturb the course of Faolan’s touch. “I’d never ask that of you.
“I wouldn’t want that for you, or for myself. A life beside me, as anything less than my equal. A life at my side, but never in my name?
“Faolan. I want you as my own; I want others to know you as my own. I want what’s mine to be your own just as well, and I wish to be known as yours.
“I want for you to live freely, to blaze as brilliant as you can, without a shadow cast upon your worth— To me, or in the whole of what you are.
“Let every being in Morovsk know your name. Let them quell before you. Let them bow, hm?
“Or let them never see my face again.
“My concern is for you— What the words of offending nobles, before I can sever their tongues, might do to you. The advantage to being what I am, the advantage of the title I hold and my own stubbornness, is not giving a damn what anyone might believe or call for. Is not needing to give a damn, so long the city stays in function. But I wouldn’t ask you to live in discomfort. I won’t demand what leaves you feeling less.
“Dearest, I would gladly choose a life apart from all the world, in the deepest wild or in a yet-to-be haven of the undead, so long as I had you. You and I - with Liviana, with your wolf, with Rose and Thorn… and yes, with the thieves, if they like - is the utmost of what I ask.
“The only existence that can thrill, or satisfy my soul.”
Leaning upward, slightly, his movement a graceful elision that never leaves Faolan’s side, Dima settles a kiss to Faolan’s jaw— Then another to the man’s cheek, where Dima nestles, nuzzles his own after.
“Know that so long as I am yours, I will be content to live anywhere, in any means. We can set the world alight just as easily from forest glens as from a city’s center.
“And know that for now, I am dreadfully, dreadfully pleased, and happier than I have ever known myself, to settle here in your embrace, finding there is more to life than I had ever guessed.”
<.>
Faolan lapses into silence, determining there's no sense in continuing to argue with Dima about this when he knows time will prove him right in the end. For the next hour or so, they linger in contented embrace, talking of Rose and Thorn and of the Nightmare Market, both of them unaware that downstairs, chaos has broken out in the form of a localized plague of frogs.
A cleric is called to bless the water, but - to the innkeeper's delight - everyone refuses to drink it for the remainder of the day and instead turns to the safer (and more costly) option of ale.
The centennial celebration spans the course of several days; the afternoon of the frog incident, there are diplomatic obligations which call Dima alone, leaving Sen, Rin, and Faolan to wander the city together while he endures a small court gathering, Lord Alfrig presiding over an informal meeting of the city's nobility, and the barons and clan chiefs of Loch Bien who have traveled from their villages.
Everyone is unaware that Dmitri has been traveling in Faolan's company. Although Faolan has some infamy in Loch Bien, he has been so long gone that he's been replaced by more interesting scandal. The incident with Fedir and Faolan at the Voronin's party is known, but not discussed.
As for Dima: the gathered nobles know his family's name, but know him only as a dignitary from Morovsk and treat him with careful, distant courtesy.
So! What would everyone like to do?
Faolan, for his part, would like to buy some new clothing, as well as some sort of finery and a mask for the masquerade in honor of the centennial and Alfrig's champion.
Sen is content to follow Rin and Fae around, occasionally busking and pickpocketing as they move through the city. He has used Disguise Self just in case anyone gets any funny ideas about bounties.
no subject
Just as Faolan is trying.
But the channel between himself and what Dima wants is vast and full of treacherous waters, and surely all the belief in the world won't be enough to alter this particular fate.
He shifts closer and leans his head against Dima's, breathing in the scent of him, of Liviana, of the three of them together. It's enough; it will be enough for him, he thinks. Just this.
"You have my time, my love. All my days ahead. Better to use it blessing the moments that are, rather than wishing for something different. I'll be here at your side; I'll be content as your companion, your lover, your consort. Your friend."
He draws the other man into his arms, careful not to jostle Liviana, or careful to allow her time to flutter to a different perch, and when they've settled comfortably, he sighs. "What will you do? Give up your title and follow me into the woods, hm? Live in a little hut with me, when you could just as well have me in a fine estate, all over the matter of a ring?"
Slowly, his own hand cards through Dima's hair. "Have you considered you might be worth more than that to me? That I'm willing to trade my pride to be beside you, so long as I am beside you?"
<.>
He melts into Faolan’s embrace, heart fluttered in its beating, heart thawed by this tenderness, offered in the midst of what must be fraught feelings, the jagged edges left by hopes torn from their roots, by lacerations rendered in violent rejections. Again, he thinks, ‘You’re braver than you know.’ And Dmitri knows himself so endlessly fortunate, to have even this moment, which is worlds within itself. How, how could he abandon this man, or what they have together?
Equally: How could Faolan trust to anything beyond, or to permanence? It’s a wonder - it’s a gift - that he should entertain the thought of Dima at all, or keep him held in sound assurance, offering love, speaking gently in spite of everything he’s learned.
And though Dima looks bewildered by Fae’s questions - though he feels side-swiped by all the hollows they suggest - he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t draw a breath from Fae’s embrace. Only leans his head into Faolan’s touch. Only lets his own hand trace the line of Faolan’s collarbone, his shoulder, his throat. A study in wonder; another step in learning, learning all the planes and parts of what this man is, and holds, and will yet be.
Eyes unwavering - though blinking, slightly, slightly, against a burn he hasn’t noted - he huffs a breath, the trace of a sad laugh, and shakes his head, careful not to disturb the course of Faolan’s touch. “I’d never ask that of you.
“I wouldn’t want that for you, or for myself. A life beside me, as anything less than my equal. A life at my side, but never in my name?
“Faolan. I want you as my own; I want others to know you as my own. I want what’s mine to be your own just as well, and I wish to be known as yours.
“I want for you to live freely, to blaze as brilliant as you can, without a shadow cast upon your worth— To me, or in the whole of what you are.
“Let every being in Morovsk know your name. Let them quell before you. Let them bow, hm?
“Or let them never see my face again.
“My concern is for you— What the words of offending nobles, before I can sever their tongues, might do to you. The advantage to being what I am, the advantage of the title I hold and my own stubbornness, is not giving a damn what anyone might believe or call for. Is not needing to give a damn, so long the city stays in function. But I wouldn’t ask you to live in discomfort. I won’t demand what leaves you feeling less.
“Dearest, I would gladly choose a life apart from all the world, in the deepest wild or in a yet-to-be haven of the undead, so long as I had you. You and I - with Liviana, with your wolf, with Rose and Thorn… and yes, with the thieves, if they like - is the utmost of what I ask.
“The only existence that can thrill, or satisfy my soul.”
Leaning upward, slightly, his movement a graceful elision that never leaves Faolan’s side, Dima settles a kiss to Faolan’s jaw— Then another to the man’s cheek, where Dima nestles, nuzzles his own after.
“Know that so long as I am yours, I will be content to live anywhere, in any means. We can set the world alight just as easily from forest glens as from a city’s center.
“And know that for now, I am dreadfully, dreadfully pleased, and happier than I have ever known myself, to settle here in your embrace, finding there is more to life than I had ever guessed.”
<.>
Faolan lapses into silence, determining there's no sense in continuing to argue with Dima about this when he knows time will prove him right in the end. For the next hour or so, they linger in contented embrace, talking of Rose and Thorn and of the Nightmare Market, both of them unaware that downstairs, chaos has broken out in the form of a localized plague of frogs.
A cleric is called to bless the water, but - to the innkeeper's delight - everyone refuses to drink it for the remainder of the day and instead turns to the safer (and more costly) option of ale.
The centennial celebration spans the course of several days; the afternoon of the frog incident, there are diplomatic obligations which call Dima alone, leaving Sen, Rin, and Faolan to wander the city together while he endures a small court gathering, Lord Alfrig presiding over an informal meeting of the city's nobility, and the barons and clan chiefs of Loch Bien who have traveled from their villages.
Everyone is unaware that Dmitri has been traveling in Faolan's company. Although Faolan has some infamy in Loch Bien, he has been so long gone that he's been replaced by more interesting scandal. The incident with Fedir and Faolan at the Voronin's party is known, but not discussed.
As for Dima: the gathered nobles know his family's name, but know him only as a dignitary from Morovsk and treat him with careful, distant courtesy.
So! What would everyone like to do?
Faolan, for his part, would like to buy some new clothing, as well as some sort of finery and a mask for the masquerade in honor of the centennial and Alfrig's champion.
Sen is content to follow Rin and Fae around, occasionally busking and pickpocketing as they move through the city. He has used Disguise Self just in case anyone gets any funny ideas about bounties.
<.>