alucard emery (anoshe) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2018-04-22 23:15:00 |
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They stood close together still, holding onto the intimacy it created for them and them alone. It thrilled Alucard, the way he felt each little reaction Rhy had, the way each breath pressed them further against each other. His vision was a fraction of that, a cheekbone, a couple curls of hair, and the tip of one ear, as he kissed just below it. His face pressed into Rhy’s hair, and he shuddered at being so close. “I will still love you,” Alucard echoed their younger selves. He had known, so little then, what that would entail, what it would take. But he had not been wrong or naive. Simply, in love. And loving every moment they had together. He still did. The question hung in response, present, one he could have voiced and asked Rhy. But Alucard was already old, much older than he should have been, and with it, wrinkles had already started to frame his face. They lingered longer and deeper, no matter how happy he was. Rhy loved him, so the time and wear could not steal it away. “So long as I have air in my lungs, so long as blood flows through my veins, so long as I walk this ground,” Alucard whispered quietly in the large room, though no one else was there to hear. He took a deep breath, steadying himself from the thoughts and fears that came with his continuing sentiment. “And I will still love you and take care of our kingdom” - the possessive, shared, felt forbidden from his own mouth, even though Rhy used it more decisively - “should you leave me to it alone.” Those words tore at his heart, the thought of it tormenting him for days. -- Alucard did not ask the question in return, but Rhy answered it anyway, by pressing his fingers to a silver vein at the side of Alucard’s neck, and tracing it lovingly. At this point, if they lived long enough to see wrinkles on each other’s faces - if they lived together that long, especially - Rhy would count it a victory. He was not worried about the changing of Alucard’s appearance, and he was not worried about Alucard’s reaction to his own, although Rhy was vain enough that he might care about seeing his own looks change, and he suspected Alucard might feel the same about his own. He was not prepared for the physical blow of the next words, a knife dug in deep and twisted. He had asked for that, he knew; he had been the one to bring up the topic of Alucard taking the throne if he had not survived Osaron, if he died first out of the two of them. But it hurt. His heart, wonderfully full only a moment later, started to crumble. Now he was closing his eyes because they were filling with tears, clinging to Alucard because of an entirely different kind of weakness, unable to bear the weight of it right in this moment. It wasn’t even his own burden, but rather the weight of the burden he’d put on Alucard’s shoulders, and that made it so much worse, so much harder. He felt what it cost Alucard to say it, and it would have hurt less if he’d paid the cost himself. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out, unable to stop the words from coming out. He buried his face in Alucard’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” -- Alucard’s arms tightened around Rhy and his eyes closed against tears, not bidding them rise. His grim thoughts had turned away from his own death of late; instead visions of Kell’s lifeless body and Rhy’s, the latter requiring no imagination, had haunted the underside of his eyelids. Matching wounds, Osaron’s possession taking Kell and through him Rhy, oh there was no end to the variations his mind could suggest. A familiar problem with a new ache. The pain felt less raw, now, than it had upon first suggestion. That precaution proving necessary hadn’t taken much imagination either, only Hastra moving slower and a dagger protruding from Kell’s chest instead of that boyish one. Once that wound had scabbed over, once it was one of another Alucard bore, he had been able to see the wisdom to Rhy’s decision, the necessity to follow through on it should it ever be necessary. The alternative was too grizzly to consider. “Ssh,” Alucard murmured in soothing tones. “I would much rather live for our country than die for it,” Alucard replied. The latter had been a far more likely circumstance more times than he could count. But still he lived, somehow, and having been given that gift, he took everything that came with it. “I cannot fault you for making the difficult decisions, the proper preparations, for Arnes’s future, when that is one of the reasons I love you,” Alucard spoke, uneven as he felt. He leaned back just enough to tilt Rhy’s face back up. “And I consent to it,” fury, not directed at Rhy, shown out behind the glistening of tears. “It is what loving you, what loving Arnes, means. And I do.” -- Rhy trembled, but managed to hold his ground, managed not to start sobbing, although his eyes were still wet. He allowed Alucard to tilt his face back up, and met Alucard’s eyes unflinching. He was sorry, but he could not take it back. He still felt the burden of it keenly, but for the first time, he realized that he understood that his death would have been a much greater burden on his loved ones than his continued life. It shouldn’t have been as much of a revelation as it was, in hindsight. But it was. He swallowed as he tried to process that, struggled to make sense of his emotions. He was still hurting for Alucard and his acceptance of the burden he was consenting to, but something else, something deeper inside him, something quieter but more deadly to his psyche and self esteem, had eased. Feeling both at once was incredibly strange, but the latter gave him a little bit of newfound strength to take on the new weight, left him with approximately the same balance of a burden as before, perhaps even a little lighter. Lifting his hand, he brushed his thumb beneath Alucard’s teary eye. Rhy’s eyes were still damp, but no longer threatening to overflow. “I, too, would rather live than die for my country,” he said. “I would rather live than die, for you, for Kell, for anything. I promise you, Alucard, I want to live.” He leaned his forehead against his lover’s. “Ruling alone is not what I want for myself, or for you, or for anyone. I want to rule beside you, and I will do everything I can to stay beside you as long as possible.” -- Again Alucard relaxed some against Rhy, glad that they had both found it within them to stand. A few tears dropped at the gentle opportunity but only those few. His focus, then, was on Rhy, not on himself. Alucard had felt something shift, something within Rhy, as he stood within Alucard’s arms, pressed together. He could not have said what, precisely, but Rhy stood stronger for it. He ran one hand up Rhy’s back and into the curls behind his head. His fingers rested, woven in with the curls. “That was one thing your parents had right,” Alucard agreed. Ruling together with the one they loved. They had their flaws, some of them Alucard only hearing from Rhy or overhearing in halls, but there was still plenty they had gotten right. Love, however imperfectly lived. “Then let us live long lives,” Alucard replied. As though it would ever be so simple. As though there would be grandchildren. “And I will do what I can not to trade further years of mine away.” He could not regret the decisions he had made, the prices he had paid. But he knew they weighed on Rhy, and Alucard was no more keen to abandon Rhy any more quickly than he had to. “Whatever we need to say, when we need to, when we are able, we can say to each other,” he declared. Though they had the liran now, were it needed, when it came to their relationship, it was best they were able to talk, openly, to each other. -- Rhy closed his eyes when he felt Alucard’s fingers tangle in his hair, and silently gave thanks to his lover for somehow relieving him of the burden of simply being alive. It had been an exceptionally heavy weight to bear. It was not that there was no weight left at all - Kell still bore Rhy’s life as well as his own, still had to deal with all the implications of being so deeply connected to him - but Rhy understood that choice better now. Kell had made a split-second decision about which burden he would rather bear, Rhy’s life or Rhy’s death, and he had chosen Rhy’s life. Rhy had simply not thought through the full implications of how heavy his death would be to carry, the extra weight of the empty throne on the shoulders of the two people he loved, who also happened to be the two closest inheritors to the crown. “I want to do better than they did,” he said quietly. “I know what they did right, but I also know what they got wrong. They relied too much on magical power, and I don’t think they expected me to be able to hold the throne without it. I will prove them wrong.” He brushed his thumb along Alucard’s jaw. “Even though you have magic, I know you understand that better than most. We will not rely on might.” He let out a breath. “And while there will certainly be sacrifices, no one’s years or lives will be given away easily. Only for the most dire of needs. I want all of my stolen years and I want all of yours, too.” He smiled slightly and tried to inject a breath of lightness into the conversation. “I want to see you old and wrinkled, but don’t skip ahead to that too quickly.” That last declaration was true, now. It had not been true a few weeks ago, when there had been much that Rhy had been holding back. But he had found the courage to reveal the worst of his insecurities, and he was better for it. He wasn’t sure that Alucard was better for it, but he had withstood it, and so had his love for Rhy. Rhy couldn’t really ask for anything more. But it was also a nudge, a reminder that there was now something new he hadn’t shared, which might in fact do Alucard a lot of good to hear. Hesitantly, Rhy began, “I was so absorbed in the burden of my life that… I hadn’t fully considered how great a burden my death would have been. Until I saw - and heard - you trying to bear up under even the imagined weight of it.” He pressed his palm flat against Alucard’s cheek, his other hand still tightly curled in the back of Alucard’s shirt. “I understand now.” -- His heart beat faster, thoughts a choppy mix of ruling philosophy and deep love and his sharp mind running over every word Rhy said. It caught on the thought that Rhy wanted not only to live but to live a long full life, not simply that Rhy would live so long as he could but that he desired to. As little as Rhy would ever risk Kell’s life - it was not his own he could risk to die - Alucard felt too aware of how it felt to live uncertain whether one wished to. Oh Alucard had fought to win battles and to save his crew, made plans upon plans and saw them through; oh he had hopes and dreams and fears and nightmares. But he had not fully realized he wanted to live for so long Alucard wondered that he had not died before doing so. The world felt differently in that space. And brighter still was hearing Rhy speak of that wish. Alucard thought it troubling that Rhy’s feelings still tied so strongly to that of what burden he placed on other people. There was so much more to Rhy and loving him than what pains and responsibilities came along with it. The lightness, the brightness, in his mood, a mood Alucard had dashed against emotional turmoil not so long ago, brought a sweet ache. For speaking honestly, Alucard knew he would weigh Rhy down again. “Rhy,” Alucard barely spoke his name, “The weight of your death is not one I fully need to imagine. I have watched you die and broke for it.” He still heard the echo of his screams, the disbelief at what he saw twice over, the denial broken. A breath in, the memory harsh and uneven. “But I also saw you come back,” Alucard added, and for it, he understood more fully what it was that tied Rhy and Kell together, how deeply they were connected. And he had seen the seal and the silver threads over and over since then. He kissed Rhy, barely a brush of their lips, again, to soothe slightly the darkness to the words he had spoken. “Your parents underestimated the son they raised,” he said, a mistake both their fathers had made in different ways. “I am confident you could hold it alone, and my magic, strong as it is, is not the protection they dreamed Kell’s would be. Kell’s magic isn’t either.” It had not stopped the Veskans from making a move to end the Maresh family, to weaken Arnes and try to take it by obliterating the people with that name. And they had come closer, far closer, than they had realized. But it had not been magic that had saved them, not any of them. Loyalty, honor, sacrifice. “Might can be met with might,” Alucard knew that too well on the sea. It was full of men without magic, full of lives lived wherein any difference in magical ability was simply part and parcel, something met with swords and determination and, for someone, a bloody end. No matter how strong the Arnesian thrown was, no matter how large its armies and navies, Vesk or Faro could try to meet it. “But wisdom and wits, loyalty and unity,” Alucard smiled, “There are stronger powers than magic to the world.” Else they could not have defeated Osaron who was more magic than all of them combined. “And we will rule with them.” -- Rhy did not close his eyes against the pain of Alucard’s grief over him, although instinctively, he wanted to. He leaned into Alucard, just a subtle shifting of his weight, but with the intention of reminding Alucard that he was here, alive, warm, and fully present. He felt the weight of that grief, and it only solidified what he had finally understood, that the cost of keeping him alive was truly worth not having to endure that kind of grief. He finally had an answer to the question he had asked Kell, how can you bear the weight? It spoke to how much he had underestimated his own worth, his own standing in their lives. And it did not make it any less overwhelming to be loved so intensely, which in turn, spoke to how much he had expected to be loved, how much he had been underestimated - as Alucard put it - by his parents, so much so that he had started to reflect it himself. They had not truly believed in him, not since he had failed in his magic lessons, and some part of him had always known that. His jaw tensed briefly, torn between anger and grief, and something more complicated too, maybe a kind of gratitude, for the combination of humility and determination to prove himself that had been instilled in him as a result. Overconfidence was not a good quality in a ruler, nor was dependence on power, and Rhy would not have been able to understand that so clearly if he’d been granted either confidence or power himself. He knew he could hold the throne even when it was under siege. He already had. He had all the skills he needed, and the people he needed to hold it with him. Alucard understood that as well as Rhy did, better than his parents, even better than Kell. He was, in so many ways, Rhy’s perfect partner, which meant that Rhy’s heart had not been foolish, even at seventeen. On some level, emotionally, intuitively, he must have known. “I think,” he said, after a long moment of silence, “That you might be the only person in the world who has not severely underestimated me.” It was a much more personal statement than anything Alucard had said, but it felt true and felt worth saying. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” -- It was a sad statement, even as it was romantic and true, even as it spoke to their relationship. The world had not fully seen and appreciated Rhy for who he was and what he was capable of. The people, foreign and Arnesian alike, had not seen the skilful way Rhy fulfilled what part was needed of him, nor the ways he strove beyond it to do more. So many had found it passingly impressive how he spoke all three national tongues fluently at the Essen Tasch but not thought about what that took, what that said about their prince, later their king. No one appreciated, more than Alucard, the skilful way that Rhy had prevented war with Vesk. Few truly even knew of it. When Alucard thought directly about the way everyone treated Rhy, it was easier to see why Rhy had so many insecurities. But Alucard had never considered Rhy so lightly, had if anything held his distance for some time, not wanting to be drawn in by his charm and good looks, out of caution of what could lie beneath. It was another way that traditional views about magic blinded people, blinded Arnes as a country, and held it weaker than it otherwise could be. Those thoughts were set aside then, in so much as they were about ruling Arnes and how to do so together, he and Rhy. As Rhy had said, before, and just as Alucard knew Rhy was capable, Rhy knew he was capable. And here, with no country to court or to rule, their relationship was - much more, though not entirely - about them, the two of them. What it was that drew Alucard to Rhy, the reason he had learned so much about court and ruling (when it came to leadership, he had been satisfied simply with one vessel and one crew). “My magic has never been the strength you see in me, not its root,” Alucard said in return. Nor was his name, though that did not need saying. Together, those two things had shaped how most people saw him and why they saw him as strong and powerful. His comfort and home at sea had come because his crew had seen him beyond that, had experienced leadership that came not from his name (though half of them knew it) and had seen him fight and sail and accomplish tasks no magic was strong enough to see them through. It had proved him to himself and to them. “You see me for me, more than anyone else,” Alucard exhaled. With Rhy, he was more comfortable to be himself, all the different forms that took. Not always as loud and forcibly present as he usually was, as he longed and enjoyed being for the effort it had taken to be so, and yet… not lesser for it. “And so you get more of me, all of me.” -- “No,” Rhy agreed, “I see your magic, but it is far from the most important thing I see.” Just as Alucard did not underestimate people who did not have magic, Rhy was not blinded by the power of a person’s magic and unable to see past it. Rhy had grown up next to the most powerful magician in Arnes, arguably in their entire world, and Kell was a person to him, a brother that he loved more than himself. He appreciated Kell’s power, and he also appreciated Alucard’s, but he appreciated both of them as people, who happened to hold power, even more. And because Alucard appreciated him in a way that others didn’t, he understood how much it meant to Alucard that Rhy reflected that back at him. He held onto Alucard more tightly, more aware than ever of what he meant to Alucard, what Alucard meant to him, and how much they had to lose. “I see your warmth, and your strength, and your fears, and your sadness. The more of you I see, the more I understand, the more I respect you, the more I want you, the more I love you. I don’t know how my heart knew everything that you were and could be when I first met you, but I am so glad to know I was not at all foolish to fall in love with you.” -- Sometimes it was difficult to remember how different, how naive and inexperienced, how scared and small, Alucard had been when they fell in love with each other. He was kind in his thoughts toward his younger self, but there was no denying Alucard was more now than he had been. He had done what he sought, what he decided he must, but Alucard had not seen clearly, not from the start, the ways it would change him, the ways it had. “Sankt,” Alucard exhaled in a breathy laugh, “I was not sure you loved me when I started, I was not sure you would still love me, that you would forgive me, that what love we had would be enough.” It had terrified him in the moments he had stilled long enough to consider it. That fear had driven him to do the most he could and hope, only hope, that it would be enough. He had no plans for failure, no safeties built in. Only a dream and determination. -- “I did,” Rhy responded, more than a little breathless himself. “I do, I did, and it was.” He smiled, and stroked Alucard’s cheek. “Although, technically I did not forgive you, so much as realize you had not done anything you needed to be forgiven for.” He paused. “You are also the only person who has not left me of his own free will, except at my request.” He had been relatively confident when he had first met Alucard, except in his lack of magical ability, and a very large part of him had simply enjoyed the feeling of being loved and appreciated, the stroke to his ego. He had gained so many more insecurities since then, and Alucard had gained so much more confidence in himself, so much more determination. Their insecurities were not the same, but there were similarities, and empathy to bridge the gap where true understanding failed them. “You mean too much to me to ever let you go, and moreover, I don’t think I can afford to. My life, my rule, all of it would be so much less without you.” -- Alucard leaned into the touch, the gesture a greater relief with the promise it came forever, so long as they had, the only forever they had. Every gesture, every moment, had felt as stolen and precious as their first ones before that promise. In some moments, it still did. Alucard had never been the person who stood to decide whether or not they were together, whether it would last in a sustainable fashion. So much time had been spent waiting to see when someone or something would steal it all away. “Then my brands stand,” Alucard shook his sleeve loose with a little effort, revealing one of his scarred wrists. “I earned them for refusing to let you go, for refusing to deny what you meant to me. And like the pirate I am, I have stolen your heart before anyone else had a chance.” And he wouldn’t give it up, wouldn’t recant. -- Rhy’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time not from incredible pain, instead from an almost unbearable amount of affection and appreciation. He lowered one arm from around Alucard’s neck so that he could take hold of Alucard’s wrist and trace the scars there. Then he lifted Alucard’s wrist to his mouth and kissed them, feeling his lover’s pulse underneath the skin. “I would take this much for you as well, and more, so that I do not have to give you up,” he said quietly, the first of the words muffled against Alucard’s skin before he lowered Alucard’s arm again. “You have not earned them in vain. I will find a way, I promise you.” He took a deep breath. “And it will more than likely not involve this kind of direct torture, which doesn’t mean it will be easy, but I am ready to withstand whatever comes.” -- In some ways, torture was the simpler trouble to face. The pain had been among the worst physical sensations Alucard had ever felt, and sometimes it still ghosted against his wrists. But court was a trickier place to navigate, its challenges less clear cut, and the paths through harder to see. And it was what Rhy had grown up to navigate, to guide others toward the right ways, not to fall to the waves of their whims and biases. And he would use it, for Alucard, for them. “I love you,” Alucard said firmly. “I want you,” he pressed his lips harder against Rhy’s to communicate the strength of those feelings in this exact moment. “I want to be with you,” he said after the kiss ended. His eyes took in Rhy’s face, then from memory looked at the dirty table beside them, a table no one else would clean up after them. “Perhaps… we can clean these up then choose somewhere we can have each other,” Alucard suggested. Dishes would not be more appetizing for waiting an evening. Bless him time living on a boat or he would not have thought of it. -- Rhy didn’t have a chance to respond verbally, but he tightened his grip on Alucard and kissed him back just as fiercely, with everything in his heart. Which was to say, everything he had. He felt much more solid, more real, more sure of himself, not just in this relationship but in his own skin, his own continued life on borrowed time, his position as the ruler of Arnes. None of that was what he had expected when he had planned this evening. He was expecting the kiss to last longer, and was left breathless when it ended. He looked at Alucard, and then at the table, and then laughed, breathlessly. He leaned his forehead against Alucard’s shoulder. “Yes,” he agreed, “We should clean up after ourselves.” He let himself stay there for a moment longer. Just before pulling away, he added, “I like having you in my bed, because someday I want it to be our bed. But… I am open to suggestions.” Truthfully, he really did not care about the place. Wherever they were, after this conversation, their lovemaking was sure to be emotional, intense, possessive, and a reprieve from all the darker emotions they’d expressed. It would be no less for having taken the moment to clean up the kitchen, so Rhy pulled himself away and picked up the casserole dish. He glanced flirtatiously back over his shoulder at Alucard as he started to carry it toward the kitchen. -- It had been tempting to be together right there, whether that meant using one of the chairs or the edge of the table or any other feature in the stunningly large room. But Alucard felt good tying in these new touches of their lives in this new world, the reality that cooking meant cleaning, the reality of taking care of everything themselves. But he had not considered where, of all the many options in the castle, which especially with the lack of staff was more open to them, he particularly preferred to spend with Rhy after this series of emotional tides. Instead, he stacked together most of the remaining dishes and floating the ones he could not carry followed Rhy back toward the kitchens, his eyes staying on the particularly nice view it made for him. There he took the lead on the dishes, finding quickly what soap and water the staff would use. “I will wash, you rinse,” Alucard directed with a smile. And as they were close enough, the gentle touch of standing side by side, working and sometimes pressing against each other. As they washed, he considered their options. Rhy’s room, which he had spent more time in than his own quarters, and his… had nothing wrong with it, as a place to go, as places to be together. But Rhy’s last words had made Alucard want to consider far more options the palace had. “Comfortable as beds are, they truly are not strictly necessary,” Alucard suggested. “This place has so many alcoves, and I know, I have used them to reach you.” He smirked. “But it has other places that raise possibility. That very dining room we just left, the map room, the baths…” -- Rhy knew that Alucard was watching him, and although he did not purposefully move seductively, he was very aware of his own movements, the grace that had already been ingrained in him. He found the cover to the casserole dish, and placed the covered meal into the cold box, the charms on which thankfully still held even in a different land. Then he returned to the sink and accepted his role of rinsing and drying and putting away without complaint. There was nothing yet to do until Alucard finished with the first dish, though, so he took the moment to let his eyes move over his lover, appreciating the finery of his clothing, the domesticity and intimacy of seeing him in this context. “Are you keeping a list?” he asked, amused. And then, with definite interest, “Mm, let’s go to the baths.” -- Alucard handed over one plate, as he considered making a list. He had not, as yet, started one. But those three locations all had their appeal. And following them, the ballrooms that had appeared; those never would have been a possibility in Arnes. But here, so long as Kell was not around, it was all possible. “You have inspired one,” Alucard replied, “And it is only getting longer.” As he scrubbed the grease off the next dish, his scars showing on both wrists, where his sleeves were pushed up, Alucard smiled at the thought of the baths. Yes, there was great intimacy there, still with some expectation of privacy. And pleasant images of them intertwined in the water. “I like the sound of that,” he said as he handed over the second plate. “It will not be too long a wait.” He smirked. For just two people, it was not so many dishes. -- That made Rhy smile. He accepted the first plate and began to dry it. “It is much easier for you to have me wherever you like, here,” he observed, sure that Alucard had already observed it as well. “I would not mind, so long as we are careful not to be interrupted.” He meant by Kell, although he wasn’t particularly keen on being walked in on by any of their friends or by random strangers either. There was a level of vulnerability that Alucard was allowed to see in him that most others were not, even his former lovers from the time they’d been apart. He had not let any of them in that far. He put the first plate away, and accepted the second. He caught the smirk, and looked more carefully at what Alucard was doing, the way the water moved over the plates. “You’re cheating.” -- “People should have the sense not to try to open locked doors,” Alucard suggested. Certainly most any lock they set on a door Kell could unlock, but given the rarity doors were locked in the castle, Alucard trusted Rhy’s brother to have better sense. But he was no more keen than Rhy sounded to be interrupted. Sex was nothing shameful in and of itself, but the intimacy that came with it, that was for the people involved. Those on a ship generally lived with a decreased amount of privacy, but everyone respected each other’s right to it. When things were overheard, they were not interrupted, not lingered on. Well, except when it threatened to sink the ship. Bard, Alucard thought accusingly. He shook his head at Rhy’s scandalized face. “I am washing them more thoroughly than they would otherwise be,” Alucard countered, “I do not believe it’s possible to cheat at washing dishes.” It took effort either way, and it truly made washing wine glasses - and the decanter - easier. Alucard was willing to work hard for things, but there was little point in making it harder for himself. “Now,” Alucard raised a wine glass in Rhy’s direction. The water sloshed up, threatening to hit Rhy in the face or at least the neck and down onto his nice clothes. But it stopped in a peak and settled back down in the glass. “Are you going to judge the newly declared sport of dishwashing or see us done all the quicker?” He grinned easily. “The baths are waiting.” -- Kell certainly would have the sense not to open locked doors in the palace when it mattered. Although Alucard did not know it - because Rhy had promised Kell not to tell him - Kell always when Alucard and Rhy were sleeping together, thanks to the sensory and emotional connection between Kell and Rhy. And if he felt that, and still opened a locked door in the palace when he encountered one, he would have no one to blame but himself for whatever he ended up seeing. Rhy sincerely hoped his brother would not be stupid enough to make such a mistake. On the other hand, if Kell was worried or angry or hurt enough to need Rhy at such a time, Rhy would know and would interrupt the moment to go to him. In that way, their connection ensured that Kell should never have to walk in on them by accident, although Rhy thought Kell might have preferred the visual to the emotional and sensory experience. He raised his eyebrows when the water threatened to hit him in the face, but did not flinch away. He did not expect Alucard to actually hit him with the water, although Alucard could likely just as easily extract the water from Rhy’s clothes again if he did. Either way, it was not worth considering the water a real threat even in the very mildest sense of the word. “I am judging, a little,” he said truthfully. “But not harshly. Please carry on.” -- Alucard shrugged. He was capable enough of doing manual labor without magic, had done as much. But magic made it less likely to get messy, to damage - even temporarily - the extremely nice clothes he was wearing. Everyone made such grand gestures of magic, and Alucard was one of the guilty parties, when it came to using dramatic flairs. But there were hundreds of uses to magic, and Alucard had seen plenty of small everyday uses in ports, between people who lived with little to their names and some inclinations toward magic. And he was as taken by those as he was using it to form a sword or shield. The rest of the dishes finished quickly. They had been small in number. And Alucard dried his hands on a towel, the usual way, no magic helping his hands dry any faster. His sleeves were shaken down, and Alucard offered Rhy his arm. “I would love to accompany you to the baths, my love, and to continue our courtship there,” he smiled. The short pause had done nothing to lessen his desire to be with Rhy, the memory of a kiss that otherwise would have led to more before they reached the baths still present against his lips. -- It probably said more about Rhy than it did about Alucard that Rhy judged him a little. Some of it was jealousy, or rather his attempt to turn his jealousy around by mentally convincing himself of magic’s unimportance. He was aiming for a general neutrality on the subject of magic use, but hadn’t quite gotten there yet. He had made quite a lot of progress today, but he was still far from perfect. He accepted the arm immediately, still equally eager to be closer to his lover, to continue the conversation with their hands and bodies. He offered a mental apology to Kell, as he’d gotten in the habit of doing, for how much intensity his brother was going to have to endure, how much Kell would absolutely hate every second of it. Rhy had gotten better at tuning that out, at least, focusing on his own emotion, and as soon as the apology was offered, he allowed himself to forget entirely about his brother, to be fully present in the moment with Alucard. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against Alucard’s cheek. “My whole evening is yours, |