rhy maresh (goldenhelm) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2018-03-28 20:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, alucard emery, rhy maresh |
WHO: Alucard Emery & Rhy Maresh
WHAT: pirate fighting & post-pirates decompression & discussion
WHEN: Monday night
WHERE: their deck -> their room
WARNINGS: blood, killing pirates, talking about the possibility of death, a whole lot of other emotions that they both try to unpack based on canon experiences but only partially succeed with.
Rhy had not fought with a sword in actual combat like this, although he had not told anyone. His instructors had always drilled him hard, even giving him multiple opponents; his father had wanted him prepared for actual combat. But it had been immediately obvious that while Rhy had technical skill, he did not have the heart of a true soldier, and his mother had never allowed him to be put into any kind of real battle.
Until now.
He had been practicing since the ship had stalled, and he was glad to find that none of his skills had rusted. Nor did he find himself overwhelmed by the chaos of the pirate assault. Rhy’s nerves had hardened since his death, since his city had fallen to darkness, since everything, and he joined the battle with a grim determination. His first opponent had magical enhancements in his arm. Rhy disarmed him of his knife, sliced through the magical enhancements with his own magical blade, leaving a deep gash in the arm, and followed it up by stabbing the man through the leg as well, bringing him to his knees. A kick to the head sent him sprawling, unconscious, and Rhy leapt over him to meet the next.
He was doing well against his second opponent, until he hesitated to make a killing thrust. That split second gave the man the advantage, and he pressed it instantly, forcing Rhy on the defensive and making him move backwards. Until a good shove sent him sprawling down the stairs, which he had not realized were so close behind him.
The way his neck and skull cracked against the stairs made him see stars. He was fairly certain the injury wouldn’t have been fatal, but it certainly should have incapacitated him. It stunned him as it was, but it was the flare of pain that wasn’t his -- Kell -- that forced him to his feet. The moment he rolled over, his bones healed and the pain disappeared. He charged back up the stairs, cutting down one opponent and then another, trying to fight his way to his brother’s side.
He could not reach Kell, but caught a glimpse of him, pale but still fighting and all in one piece. Rhy continued fighting with a violent ferocity he had not thought himself capable of - some of it might have been Kell’s - until the battle was over, with the ship coming back online and the pirates suddenly disappearing into the floor.
Then it was time to help their injured allies to the medical bay, and to take stock of themselves. Rhy expected to feel horrified, but instead he mostly felt numb. His mind replayed the horrible crack of his skull hitting the stairs, and the sound of his blade going through the other man’s chest. He had the odd thought that at least the man had died quickly with the blade in his heart; it was a very unpleasant sensation to live through. Rhy knew from experience.
He made sure that Kell was alright, and Alucard too, and allowed Kell to make sure he was alright. Amazingly, they had really taken very little lasting damage. And then he said abruptly, “I need to go and wash this blood off my hands.”
And he turned away and headed back towards the room he shared with Alucard. He closed the door to their room behind him and dropped his sword. Then he took off his golden chestplate, which was not splattered in blood. He felt nauseous at the sight of it, but not enough for his stomach to actually empty itself. He moved into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. There was blood on his hands and arms and a few drops on his chest and neck. He stared at them for a while, morbidly, and then finally did as he said he was going to and started to wash it all off.
--
It was good to be alive. Alucard’s breathing was heavy. Scratches still bled, a cut against his arm (damaging the sleeve), and a bruise from an energy weapon that had melted an ice shield blossomed on his chest, somehow not injuring his clothes. Other bruises had not yet made themselves noticed, but they were sure to come. His hair was sweaty, his blades clean (the water helped with that), and the floor certainly stained where blood flew and bodies had lain.
The injured seen to, some coordination organized on the stairs with those on other levels, their duties seen to, Alucard glanced at Kell before turning to his quarters as well. Rhy had disappeared shortly earlier. It felt both like minutes and hours. Alucard sheathed both swords and released the bloodied water out the window from which he had taken it. The window assembled yet again, he turned toward their room.
He bypassed the sword and armor, following a clear trail toward the bathroom. Esa appeared from the closet and walked around his legs to stall him. In return, he scratched her head with a couple of mostly clean fingers and promised, promised darling, that she would get more once he was clean. Such sound foretold his entrance in the bathroom, only feet away.
Alucard entered, seeing Rhy wash blood off his chest. The blood, mostly, of dead men. His heart softened, and Alucard gently touched Rhy, a hand against his sweaty tunic, as he came next to him to do the same. After was a more difficult time, often. The need in the moment, the further fighting a distraction, made it easier to handle what happened. But now, in the calm, it was harder. Alucard was not particularly fond of killing people, but he had come to greater terms with it at sea. “We and our companions, on this deck, all live,” he said, “that is better than most times I have been attacked at sea.” They did not know about everyone else. On such a large boat, with so many people fighting, it was near unimaginable that no one had died.
--
Rhy’s senses did not seem to be working properly, dulled the way his emotions were. He vaguely heard Alucard’s voice, but was still not entirely prepared for his lover to appear behind him. The hand on his back surprised him, but his nerves were too numb to flinch from it. He paused in his washing, the blood mostly off his hands but still going down the sink in red and pink streams.
“Is that supposed to be comforting?” he asked, his voice a little flat. He understood the sentiment, that they should all be glad to be alive, and Rhy was. Or he would be, once he got past the shock of it. But the mention of Alucard in danger at sea, grieving dead friends after a battle with pirates, was far from a comforting thought. Rhy had known nothing of the danger Alucard had been in, had been trying to put Alucard far from his mind. There was so much that had happened, so much that might have been prevented if he’d just put a little more effort into finding the man he loved.
--
He didn’t flinch. He had seen men after their first time fighting for their lives. Though most of his crew had come aboard with some experience fighting, it was different to sail and risk pirates than it was to seek them out and engage them. And Rhy had seen less than that. London had been awful, but it had not involved that much fighting. Here the bodies fell to the sea. There many of them had burned away. There was not terribly much comfort to give, other than to do whatever felt alive. Later.
Aftermath called for a different kind of care. Alucard had less to do, as a passenger, than as a captain. It gave him time for this thorny conversation. “No,” he spoke softly, “But our preparations paid off. We defended effectively. Even when the ship is down, we are not defenseless at sea.” That brought Alucard some comfort. He had never wished to place the whole of their lives in the hands of the robot contraptions.
--
“Mm,” Rhy murmured, noncommittally. He did not disagree, but neither did the words bring him comfort. He was not scared for his life; he had made peace with death. He wasn’t sure precisely what was bothering him, in truth. Maybe it was just that he was tired of dead bodies. It seemed strange to him that the bodies had just fallen through the ship, essentially disappeared. If there had not been blood on the walls and on the bodies of those remaining on the ship, or injuries on those who remained standing, there would have been no evidence of the siege.
Having washed the blood from his skin, he examined his shirt. He had not been wearing any of his royal red, although in retrospect, that might have hid the bloodstains better. This shirt was a light blue, one of the most casual shirts he owned, and it was ruined. He pulled it off over his head and briefly left the bathroom to go back for his armor and sword. He brought them back to the sink and rinsed them under the water, then wiped them dry with his ruined shirt.
That done, he left the bathroom again to put them away, and found a clean shirt - the first one available was a Hawaiian shirt from the ship’s stores that had been mysteriously delivered to their door a few days prior - and put it on, then sat down on the side of the bed. He ran his hand over his face and then looked around, feeling useless, restless and low energy all at once, unsure of what to do with himself next.
He was aware that he was probably worrying Alucard by not speaking, and yet, he could not think of a damn thing to say.
--
When Rhy left the room, Alucard moved to wash his own hands, then his neck and face. The shower was an unexpected luxury, and with the ship back online, it would likely be available at some time. Even where he had not bled, he had sweat. Alucard preferred to be clean than dirty, but it was not too much, with that small step.
Alucard too took off the shirt he had worn during the fighting. Following Rhy out into the bedroom, he scoured needle and thread from some supplies (he had always had them at sea, had taken them back with him at the palace, though he had not touched them since moving in). Then he sat next to Rhy, leaving a little room between them. Esa hopped up onto the bed, with a meow, some disagreement with Alucard’s shirt occupying his lap, and moved onto Rhy’s lap.
He began sewing the tear in the shirt. It was not ideal. He enjoyed his nice clothes and preferred them without tears, but the shirt was from Arnes, and even if they shopped for more, again, at the next port, those clothes (the shirt Rhy wore) were not from home. The urge to speak rose, was pushed down, and rose again. But Alucard knew that words, whatever he could think of, were unlikely to help.
--
Rhy looked down at the cat in his lap, and then started to rub behind her ears. It was comforting to have something to do with his hands, to feel the soft fur, so drastically different from the unforgiving metal and leather in the hilt of his sword. He sat there for a while, just looking down at the cat, letting the act of petting it soothe him. Esa seemed relaxed by it too; as time passed, she settled further into his lap and started to purr.
Eventually, minutes or hours later, he finally spoke. “I should feel awful. But I don’t, really.”
--
Alucard had fixed his shirt and checked over the rest of it, to make sure it was in good shape. He would always be able to tell, even when he didn’t look at the sleeve, that the shirt was not as good as new. Likely, most times he would think back to this day, to this battle, even perhaps to this time after it. But whether they wore scars on their bodies, on their clothes, or only in their minds, they were still there. Sometimes they were not nearly as torn up as they could have been. That was okay too.
After finishing the shirt, Alucard set it away with his things and pulled on his matching Hawaiian shirt. It was clothing, and neither of them stood out when they both did it. Alucard poured himself a glass of wine and slowly drank it. When Rhy broke the quiet near silence of their room, Alucard looked up more at his face.
“You think you should,” Alucard said. People had died. Even though they were strangers, Rhy did care about that. It was harder, in practice, when their only interaction had been an attempt on their lives and ship. Many of the pirates who had not died yet would likely live on, if their vessels picked them up. “We don’t, always.” He had thought he would feel like a terrible person for purchasing his father’s murder, not because his father was a good man (he wasn’t) but because it was premeditated murder. And it was murder. He had come to terms with what that made him.
--
“I am sad,” Rhy said, after a moment. “For the people they could have been. For anyone who cared about them. They could not have been all violence and greed.”
But he was not as sad as he had expected to be. Probably if the bodies had not disappeared, if they had been left with the disposal of them, he would have been more affected. He had seen a few of them strewn out on the floor, reminding him too well of the bodies of the fallen in Osaron’s wake. “But I am not sorry for killing them.”
--
Alucard nodded. However brief a time, he too had been a pirate. He had attacked a few ships, just to live, to take enough to support himself, to stay away from his father’s reach. It had not all been violence and greed. And neither could he say his shipmates were. They did not avoid violence, and there was greed, a hunger for more than they could get by other means. Greed to pay for families on shore, greed for luxuries they would never otherwise see in their lives (luxuries both Alucard and Rhy had grown up with), greed for more. It was a hard life. He did not hate pirates, certainly not these pirates foreign and unknown to him. They knew little of what life was like on these seas, how navigation worked from one world to another.
With a sigh, he offered his hand to Rhy, resting on the bed between them. “I feel the same,” Alucard said. “Being in a new world with limited knowledge, there is little we can readily even guess. But whoever they were, whoever they had, whatever reason they had to attack other vessels, I do not have so much empathy to lay down my life, our necessarily supplies, for them.” He paused a moment, considering the robots that had been frozen for the last few days. “Though I certainly have more questions for our hosts.”
--
Rhy hesitated for a moment before taking Alucard’s hand. He felt caught in some kind of limbo, the numbness, and talking wasn’t making it go away. He only vaguely felt the sadness that he’d mentioned. He might have been more grateful for the shock holding worse emotion at bay if it hadn’t brought him back to feeling empty, hollow, dead inside. He did still feel vague aches of pain from Kell’s injury, but his own had gone completely away, and that still bothered him.
It felt good to wrap his fingers around Alucard’s, and at the same time, a little bit of guilt twisted in his gut. He did not think he should feel good after having quadrupled the number of men he’d slain in his lifetime. He wondered what his father would have said about his performance with a sword. He probably would have been as angry as Kell was about the fact that Rhy had hesitated, that it could have gotten him killed. Could have paralyzed him, if not for the fact that Rhy could not retain any injury. Saints, he would have given anything for his father to yell at him again.
“What questions?” he asked, instead of voicing any of that.
--
Alucard did not know what questions could be asked or which would be answered. The robots were a representative, of sorts, but they served as part of the ship. Their disablement showed that. Which meant they did not truly know whose guest they were. “The portal” some of their fellow shipmates may have said. And indeed the portal had brought them here (from their original homes or from the much mentioned Tumbleweed, Texas). But here was a place that functioned with them in it. And they were none the wiser as to the purpose of this cruise, of this time at sea.
An all expenses paid trip. Just who had paid for the trip? Who had they paid? For a leisure journey, it had involved far more violence than the description usually called for, and people had been seriously hurt before and this time. The ports had plenty of dangers themselves. Certainly they had an instant escape, but it was a most unusual vessel and journey. And Alucard had gone on strange ones.
He held onto Rhy’s hand and considered them. “Who, beyond that portal, is involved in determining our situation? How did they reach that decision? What world or worlds are we in, its laws, its culture… not the ports, mind you someone here always seems informed on them, though how they always avoid the points in history anyone here is from only increases my curiosity,” Alucard shook his head. “They have no end, and I do not expect to receive many satisfactory answers.” His voice grew fine, with a sharp edge. All these lives, toyed with and risked and changed. They had not simply been dumped in another world. They were being ushered through it. Through these dangers.
--
Rhy could only barely follow the thread of Alucard’s reasoning. His mind was too preoccupied with the present. But it was strangely comforting just to listen to Alucard talk about it, and he felt a vague sense of amusement. And then, because he was properly looking at Alucard for the first time, his amusement increased at the sight of him in the Hawaiian shirt, which surely looked equally ridiculous on him.
“I’m too tired to think that through, my love,” he said, but a moment later he laughed, and he couldn’t help wondering if that meant he was going a little mad. “And you look ridiculous philosophizing in that shirt.”
--
That laugh eased so much in his heart, relaxed the way his muscles bound together. It was the best sound he had heard in days. His eyes gazed down at the shirt he was wearing, across at the matching shirt Rhy wore. And he was more grateful for the atrocious article of clothing of unknown origin. Well, not entirely unknown. Just its appearance had been unexpected, but on this ship, that was less surprising than it might have been.
“You do not need to,” Alucard replied back. The questions were good ones. But without answers, he was not sure how much good came from the wondering. But his smile grew more. “Should I take it off?” he asked, making no such move.
--
Laughter felt good; it loosened something in Rhy’s chest. It did not make the guilt go away, the sense that he should be feeling worse about all this. But he also did not want to feel worse, and another part of him was now able to feel the relief to be alive, that his stupid mistake hadn’t cost both Kell’s life and his own, that the two of them and Alucard were barely scathed. His grief, having been acknowledged already, fell by the wayside, and he didn’t force himself to keep feeling it.
“As much as I love you without a shirt,” he said, “I think right now, I could use the amusement more.”
--
Alucard chuckled. It was absolutely the worst thing he had ever worn, and it was the first time since coming aboard he had worn something quite like this, despite seeing it around in shops and on some people’s bodies. Rhy was not likely to see it again any time soon. But Alucard was too glad to see anything bring a smile just then.
So he nodded. “And you will have it,” he motioned around them, “so long as we are in these four walls. You cannot expect me to go out in public so dressed.”
--
“I would never ask such a thing of you,” Rhy answered, still hopelessly amused. “I’m very grateful that you’re willing to sacrifice even this much for the sake of my entertainment.” He looked down at himself. “I, too, will never wear this outside this room, or likely ever again once I’ve taken it off.”
They were absurd shirts, truly. The colors and even some of the design could have been salvaged and made into a better, more fashionable garment, but Rhy did not think the creators had cared. Gaudiness seemed to be the shirt’s whole purpose, and it was one he had never thought he would appreciate so much.
He breathed in deeply as some of his amusement faded, and let it out, releasing more of the tension in his body. “I am exhausted.”
--
Alucard made a partial bow from where he sat and enjoyed the foolish scene they made, joyfully and wholly theirs. Only Rhy got to see him like this, and he liked that. For a moment, the battle cost each of them their dignity. To see them through the other side.
One last sip drained his wine, and Alucard set the glass aside. He came in closer, leaning against Rhy because his arm was already entangled with his lover’s. The move also let him support Rhy in return. “People know we are all right, so there is nowhere else we need to go,” Alucard replied. Anyone who asked after them need only check with those they had fought with, public knowledge. In particular, Kell knew. And that was enough. Alucard had not looked at the network, still had no urge to. Others, who knew about this sort of ship, would see to the ship. Healers saw to the injured. And Alucard, Alucard saw to Rhy.
They could rest. His eyes glanced at the bed beside him and back at Rhy. An invitation, if Rhy wanted to sleep. Fighting was exhausting.
--
Rhy leaned into him, this time without hesitating, grateful for the solidity of Alucard’s body that held him up. The moment his muscles started to relax even from the simple act of keeping himself sitting upright, the more tired he felt. He rested his head against Alucard’s shoulder and closed his eyes for a moment.
“I feel bad dislodging the cat,” he murmured. He had seen the invitation before closing his eyes, and lying down to rest sounded amazing. But Esa was also so warm and comforting in his lap that it seemed a real shame to have to move her. Maybe if they lay down she could curl against him, but she might also run away.
--
“That is one way she gets what she wants,” Alucard declared. He looked down at her, barely having moved at all. Still, her eyes slowly slid open with his glance, meeting his look. He was not immune, but Alucard knew they had been sitting there for some time. And Esa could handle people moving around.
He sighed. “Come on,” he encouraged Rhy. “Let’s get some rest. We defended her life and dignity today.” Alucard began toeing off his boots while he let Rhy decide. The wine had also helped settle him. Even without food, he was ready simply to rest, so as to properly feel sore afterward.
--
Rhy sighed too, but he gently coaxed Esa out of his lap and onto the bed beside him. “There’s plenty of room for you on the bed,” he told her. He gave her a few last rubs behind her velvety ears. “Please feel free to curl up against me.”
He toed off his own boots and shifted farther back onto the bed so that he could lie down. He turned on his side to face Alucard, and reached out to run his fingertips gently over the skin just beside the cut on Alucard’s arm, careful not to actually touch the wound. He had taken stock of his lover earlier, enough to know there were no major injuries. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt at all. Quietly, he asked, “Are you hurting?”
--
His wounds were nothing particularly much, but Alucard let Rhy explore them, note them, care for them. The most unusual part, to him, was the bruise from a shot that damaged his skin, likely some of the flesh below it, but not his shirt. That was a weapon Alucard had not known, one among many. Even all his watching on the boat had not showed him Eliot’s battle magic or Kylo’s use of the Force, to name a little. He still remembered the man who had come through, controlling an arrow with a whistle. It hadn’t been magic.
The question focused him back on himself, on them. “Not much,” Alucard replied. “Much less than after a day of the Essen Tasch.” He paused. “Though, those were much more fun days.” A moderately rogue-ish smile crossed his face. No matter how exhausted he had been, in the end, it had been enjoyable every step in the arena. He looked across at Rhy. “None of it will last.” Even if it took a few days longer, than Rhy, to heal.
--
Rhy was relieved to hear that Alucard was not in much pain, and glad to see the smile on his face. He slid his arm around Alucard’s waist and burrowed into him, resting his forehead against Alucard’s shoulder. “Part of me misses the normality of having injuries last for more than a few seconds,” he said quietly. “But another part is very glad not to have a broken spine and concussion.”
He knew how bad the breaks had been; he had felt them. Kell had felt them too, and they had incapacitated him enough that he had let down his guard. What if someone had stabbed me through the heart right then, Rhy? Kell had asked, or more accurately, shouted. Rhy hadn’t been able to give him any kind of an answer to that. He did not want to be the weakness that cost Kell any pain, much less his life - both of their lives, but this was about Rhy trying to protect his brother, not save his own skin.
If being part of the fighting put Kell in danger, Rhy felt that maybe he should stay out of it. But at the same time, he could not forget the fact that during the fight with Osaron, Kell hadn’t been able to remove the ring in time to stop some of his magic from leaving him, possibly for good. They likely would have both died if Rhy hadn’t been there to get the ring off his finger. He didn’t know if he could sit and be protected and wait to see if he was going to die.
He also didn’t want to turn into a corpse in front of children and scared adults. At least if it happened in the midst of a battle, it might surprise their enemies enough to give any of his living friends and allies the advantage. Although it might also surprise his friends, too, everyone except Alucard, but no doubt Alucard would be compromised by that anyway.
--
There were plenty of times Alucard would have longed not to keep injuries longer than a few seconds. Honestly, it had its uses. But he knew how that sense of wrongness affected Rhy. And glad as he was, too, that Rhy had not kept those injuries, he could mourn, too, what that meant. Alucard wrapped an arm around Rhy, as he thought about its repercussions.
“I can understand why you hesitated,” Alucard said after some time. His mind was not turning its fastest, and there was no rush to the conversation. “Whether or not the pirate could have killed you to kill you, I can understand. But I wonder…” He spoke slowly, looking up above them, since he could not see Rhy’s face. “Whether you hesitated longer because he could not kill you.” Rhy had fought well, had fought particularly keenly after his tumble down the stairs.
Perhaps things would go better if Rhy fought, to some degree, more like he could die. It was not as though the pain of it was any better in the moment, if the face Kell had made said anything.
--
Rhy was silent for a long moment, considering that. “I don’t know.”
It was an honest answer, the best one he could give. He thought he would have hesitated on the killing stroke regardless. He hadn’t hesitated after Col had run him through, but having killed once did not make it any easier the second time, even in the heat of combat.
He ran his fingertips lightly over Alucard’s back. “It didn’t occur to me that getting injured would mean Kell would be compromised enough to get hurt too. It hasn’t happened like that before.” He paused, then added, “I won’t hesitate again.”
--
One of his hands went into Rhy’s hair, finding and slowly pulling out any snarls to his curls. It was slow work, something that focused his mind outside dangerous circles of thoughts. Much as Alucard had known Rhy couldn’t die, falling down the stairs, he still had reacted as though it could have. The pirate in question had certainly died having thought he had taken care of Rhy, at the least. It hadn’t gotten him in a bad spot, thankfully. But it was something, of his own, to keep aware of.
Trust, with a Maresh brother, that it took the other one being put in danger to make such a change in behavior. Much as it pleased him Rhy was less likely to be hurt as gravely in the future, at least when it could be avoided, Alucard felt mildly sad to hear that firmness, that sharp edge, to Rhy’s voice. To know, in all likelihood, there would be a next time. Their world had been, albeit on a knife’s edge, at peace when they left. There would be as many hard decisions, or more, in the future. And whether Rhy killed someone personally or only caused their death by his choices, lives would always hang in the balance as king. Such was growing up.
He nodded, to recognize the point, but sighed. “I remember when we were much more innocent and naive,” Alucard said. Their relationship had more to it, more than loving each other and not telling the other one, more than a handful of people knowing about them. Alucard did not wish to undo how far they had come and what they were now. But he could still miss the innocence of getting tangled in Rhy’s sheets and hearing his laugh. Of whispering about it with Anisa, their little secret.
--
Rhy wasn’t particularly pleased with having come to that decision, either, but there didn’t seem to be any way around it. He had hesitated to kill and it had cost Kell. It could have, as Kell pointed out, cost Kell much worse, cost both of their lives. He couldn’t afford that, nor could he sit back and wait, when having one less fighter could cost them all. He was a gentle soul, still, who did not want to take lives, who mourned the people he’d been forced to kill, but he could feel how easily that gentleness could slip away from him.
“So do I,” he said, quietly. He ran his fingers lightly over Alucard’s back. “I miss it.”
--
It was something worth mourning, something they could have and should have had for longer. A few years at least. Longer had Osaron been avoided. But Alucard had shed much of his innocence, especially when it came to shedding blood, at sea. Remarkably, more of that had been as a privateer in the crown’s name than as king. Alucard had had too little time, been far too desperate, to think too greatly on that. He had reflected, then. But he also had not spent great effort toward killing anyone, knocking them out instead. Possibly that contributed to his being caught. But when his life - when the lives of the men he gathered and chose, men he cared for - was on the line captaining a ship, Alucard had learned harder lessons. Still, he had let some of them go free, catch and release as he had called it. But that practice had come back to nearly kill Bard, and the lesson from it had been his as well as hers.
His chin tucked, and Alucard kissed Rhy’s forehead. “Aye,” he agreed, “I miss it too.” The parts in Rhy’s bed. The parts sneaking into the palace and down its corridors. The time he had to spare, lost to thoughts about Rhy. It was easier, now, to focus on those parts of it. And a vague longing for a time that had never been - when those had been true but Alucard feared nothing from his father or his brother. How could he miss what had never, quite, existed?
“But I am still grateful,” Alucard added, “for our time here, our hours upon hours, with no other duties. Only each other’s company.” In a way, save for the fact they had changed, it was somewhat like that summer.
--
“Mm,” Rhy agreed. He was grateful for this extra time, for how much of it could be spent just being with Alucard - and Kell, who would be leaving him soon enough at home, even if he came back. There were hard lessons to learn here, perhaps, but surely they were also waiting for him at home, in different forms. He would never have been allowed to maintain his innocence forever. The crown was too heavy a burden, made him too much of a target.
In a way it was better that he learned that lesson now rather than later. All the same, he would have given just about anything for Osaron to have never come, for the Veskan siblings to have never made a move against the Arnesian throne. Useless to wish it, but he did all the time. “Now I understand your life at sea and dealings with pirates a little better, too.”
--
Different as many of the specifics had been, as large as these vessels were, as foreign of weapons, the actuality of pirates remained much the same. Their actions, even their tactics, and the ways of dealing with them. Alucard made a small sound of assent. Even as a privateer, there were times pirates attacked. They were often more capable of defending themselves, all being at sea in one way or another to attack pirates, to fight. And while this ship was one of leisure, its guests were more capable than Alucard suspected most guests with such grand treatment were. In fact, the whole crew, so to speak, had been neutralized. And it was only the guests who fought.
“For all the vast differences between these ships and ours, much remains the same,” Alucard agreed. “And it is good you’re seeing what it’s like. Even when there is peace, there are always pirates. The law is much harder to uphold at sea than on land.” And men who wanted freedom - and would do most anything for it - regularly sought it out. Not even with the best of reigns would all piracy disappear. Possibly a good thing for Bard, as privateer.
But there was much to recommend the sea. And while Alucard was willing to let it go, to be with Rhy, it was a pleasure for him, too, to have a piece of it here. “Though without the privateering, our wine is not quite as good.”
--
“Will you miss it?” Rhy asked, tilting his head back to look up at Alucard. He hadn’t expected to ask it, but he had just been thinking about Kell leaving him for the sea, and Alucard talking about his experiences at sea brought it closer to home. He hadn’t really thought about life at sea being something that Alucard would be giving up, because it had been a banishment, a punishment, something that Alucard had plotted to come home from. “The ship, the privateering.”
He was going to have to let Kell go to travel; he could not keep his brother at home and keep his relationship to his brother at the same time. Alucard had his eye on the crown, though, and with that came a responsibility to stay in Arnes, on land. Even if Rhy hadn’t taken his ship away, he would not be able to use it as often as he had previously.
--
The question hung in the air, something Alucard had had plenty of time to think about, to consider before acting. There was no regret to leaving, no wishing he had made a different decision. Alucard had long grown used to the fact one could not have absolutely everything one liked and wished, not even were they a king. With regards to many things someone could want, especially not as a ruler. He had given it the right amount of thought. And in the time that had passed on land, then returning to sea another way here, Alucard was still good with his decision.
But still… “The ship, the crew, the magic that does not pass through royal courts,” Alucard listed, “making a difference to protect Arnes directly, right before your eyes. Charting a course and running a ship…” They were all parts of his life he would miss.
“Half the crew had heard of the Emery family, half had not,” Alucard continued. Because it was the specific life Alucard had made for himself at sea, not the parts handed to him (forced upon him) by the crown. “But it made little difference, out at sea. I learned how to sail, how to run a ship, made the crew a family… I accomplished a great deal that, yes, I had the chance to do because of my name, but which was achieved by my own hands, by my own doing. Independently of anyone in London, anyone in court, anyone in my family.”
It was a wholly different experience than his life before. Alucard had always been talented with magic, and his training and long hours made him an extremely good magician, one of the best. But he had always had his family’s backing, everything provided for. His confidence had been learned, rooted in magic, but now it had stronger deeper roots. It was stronger, more proven.
“Naturally, I will miss it,” Alucard said. “But not as much as I missed you.”
--
Listening to Alucard talk about his life at sea made Rhy’s heart ache. So many bad things had happened to him in the time they’d been apart, and yet so much good, too. It took Alucard a while to say that he had missed the good things, but Rhy knew it was coming anyway, long before he said it.
It took effort not to hide his face again, strength of will not to let insecurity get the better of him. He swallowed, but showed no other obvious outward sign. Not that he expected to fool Alucard anyway, when Alucard was so keyed into Rhy’s emotions. Rhy wished he didn’t keep coming back to this uncertain place, but he couldn’t seem to do anything about it except choose how he behaved in spite of it.
“I’m sorry you can’t have both,” he said quietly, resting his forehead against Alucard’s. “Perhaps we’ll find a way.”
--
“Life is full of more wonders than one man can hold at a time,” Alucard replied. Certainly, a part of him wished for both. But Alucard had always known that was impossible, truly. Even if they spent some time at sea, even if there were reason for Alucard to spend time on a boat, it wouldn’t be that life. And that… was okay. Alucard had accepted that. “It is my privilege,” he added, “to have held so many as I have in my life.”
His answers had also easily avoided the aspects of his life at sea Alucard would not miss. His forced absence from London, losing so much time with his sister, losing time with Rhy, having missed one Essen Tasch… And those were only pieces of it. Life at sea was not all joyful, positive, and wonderful. Alucard had risked his life over and over on a regular basis, such as they had today, so often that he imagined his death hundreds of times, more. He had been fortunate, truly, not to have died at sea. One unlucky moment, one mistake, and it could have cost him. Alucard had been able to handle the regular battles, but he would not miss putting his neck on the line day in and day out. To have some days without much risk of death, it was quite nice.
“It would be nice to spend some time at sea,” Alucard agreed, “but there are many aspects to living on land, living in London, that I am glad for. You, certainly, being the most important one.” There were limitations to life at sea, and Alucard had learned his priorities as such.
--
Rhy was too tired to put in the effort of composure for long. He let his head fall back to rest against Alucard’s shoulder and closed his eyes. More than ever, tonight, he did not feel worth the love that Alucard felt for him or the sacrifices he had made, and was willing to make, to keep him. But he was also selfishly grateful for it, scared of losing it, and did not want to argue.
He might not be able to give Alucard back his life at sea, but hopefully he would be able to give Alucard the life with Rhy that he wanted, and maybe that would be enough to make it all worth it. To make Rhy worth the effort.
“Something to think about,” he murmured quietly. “Whenever we get home.”
--
Alucard held on more tightly, sensing some unease. He said the words because he meant them, because he believed them. And should Rhy need to look beyond them, Alucard felt confident his actions showed well enough his sincerity. Those efforts were made, for Rhy, and Alucard stood by them. Whatever else could be done to set Rhy at ease, whatever could address his thoughts and feelings, it would have to be another night.
He shifted slightly, to settle more on the bed, and he pulled one side of the blanket over them, so that they were, roughly, under some sort of covers. “For now, we need sleep,” Alucard said. And they had nothing further required of them in the moment.