alucard emery (anoshe) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2018-04-22 22:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, alucard emery, rhy maresh |
Part 1
WHO: Alucard Emery & Rhy Maresh
WHAT: Dinner, a serenade, and a great deal of feelings
WHEN: April 18th
WHERE: The palace, dining room & walking around
WARNINGS: Discussion of violence & death, including homophobic violence
Rhy had had a very productive day. He’d taught his class in the morning, then taken a couple of buses to get to a shop that exchanged gold in a nearby city, and while he was there, also noticed a much nicer grocery store than the one he’d seen in Tumbleweed, which was a fortunate stroke of luck, since he’d been looking for the French cheese they’d used on the ship in their cooking classes. Having acquired both a large handful of money (he’d ended up exchanging only five coins, and was now carrying so many papers that his pocket was now bulkier, although not heavier) and a wedge of Reblochon cheese, he got back to Tumbleweed in high spirits. Actually cooking the food managed to spoil his mood just a little. He didn’t put enough water in at first to boil the potatoes and nearly burnt both the potatoes and the pot, but thankfully managed to notice in time and add more water; the bacon, however, was not so lucky and got a little singed. But when he put it all together, and carefully timed it in the oven, it came out looking and smelling delicious. Hopefully Alucard (or Kell, if there were any leftovers) would forgive him for the slightly burnt bacon parts. He left the tartiflette in the oven to keep warm for the moment, opened a fine bottle of Arnesian wine from the stores in the kitchen to allow it to breathe, and set the table with some of the palace’s finer dishware. Then he went upstairs to change, and posted on the network, inviting Alucard to dinner as soon as his lover responded. Then he returned to the kitchen, took the tartiflette out of the oven, and carefully carried it towards the dining room. -- Alucard always looked good, but tonight, though it was only the two of them in parts of the palace that would normally have dozens more, he looked stunning. The clothes fit perfectly, the stitching particularly fine. The deep blue was that of the ocean, and only in the right light did the midnight blue embroidery reveal itself, a sea of wonders with a ship tossed about it. A silver chain draped beneath the jacket, anchoring a pocketwatch. It was everything life at sea was imagined to be, something too delicate to be worn at sea. And yet, Alucard had packed it around for more than a year. It paid off. Some of the sapphires and diamonds in his hair were hidden by the hat, but Alucard could not bear to start the night without it. He felt truly and well himself as he strolled the corridors with an ease that had come over the last few weeks he had lived there, back in their world. There was something to belonging there, not being asked what his business was or where he was going. No one could ask now, but that was not the point. His steps took him first to the dining room, which was clearly set up for two. The plates did not look familiar, of even greater quality than the usual, and Alucard smiled at the touch. Rhy never missed the details. “Good evening,” Alucard called out, meandering closer to the pathway to the kitchen. -- It was not as grand an entrance as Rhy usually made, to walk into the dining room carrying a casserole dish with potholders - very carefully, too, so as not to mess his fine clothing - but he nevertheless managed to do it gracefully. He had chosen to wear deep orange tonight, with black embroidery; finely made, but not the most royal clothes he owned. He smiled at Alucard when he saw him, and allowed himself an appreciative glance, even as he moved toward the table. “Evening,” he answered, and set down the casserole dish between their plates. He straightened up and moved over to his lover, greeting Alucard with a kiss and a trace of his fingertips over the material covering Alucard’s chest. “It is quite a good one, isn’t it?” He stepped back so that they couldn’t get too distracted before dinner, and moved to pull out a seat for Alucard himself. “Please, sit.” -- His hand naturally rose, settling this time for a moment on Rhy’s chest, and Alucard dropped it as they separated. He waited, appropriately, for Rhy to help him into his seat and eyed the dish that Rhy had cooked. The tartiflette was familiar, something they had both made in class along with their peers. In that regard, it was a dish Alucard had seen more than ten times. Of them, Rhy’s looked certainly in the top quarter, the lowest reserved for burnt, overcooked, and undercooked potatoes. His smile was genuine, and Alucard felt keenly aware that Rhy was courting him that evening, rather than the other way around. In and of itself, a king courting his lover was no odd thing. His childhood had held plenty of stories about Rhy’s parents, generally told from a point of view assumed to be Maxim’s. Even so, it had never involved a personally cooked meal. It was something this Texas had enabled, and Alucard felt rather appreciative at the moment. “It is setting out to be,” Alucard agreed. “You taste like wine.” And looked better. -- Once Alucard had taken his seat, Rhy moved to pour him a glass of wine, and then returned to his own seat, and his own wine glass. “Liquid courage,” he answered Alucard with a small smile, and lifted his glass in toast. “Just a little. For the serenade.” He had not yet determined precisely how to time the song. He wanted to spend at least a little bit of time enjoying the meal, not finish it entirely, but not distract from it, because cooking for Alucard was a gesture into itself - and Rhy, too, was hungry. “I wrote the song myself, you see. And I think perhaps you should have a few glasses of wine before I sing it, too, so that it sounds better.” -- It was a good vintage and even, Alucard noted, paired well with the savoury dish. While Rhy’s nerves showed - and that humanization, those cracks and flaws, only endeared Rhy more to Alucard than before - it was starting well thus far. A whole event, a to do, an evening. The evening went beyond what the wager had demanded, and that felt like Rhy again. He sipped the wine, savoring the flavor. It had started to open up. His eyebrows rose slightly, and his smile warmed. “I can have a couple,” Alucard granted, “both because the wine is so good and for your benefit. But I will refrain from having too many, as I do want to be able to remember this evening in full clarity.” There was always the liran, but such a rare and powerful artifact felt unintended for such a small intimate moment. -- “No, not too many,” Rhy agreed. “I do want you to remember.” Even if it went poorly, he assumed Alucard would at least be amused. And for all his nerves, he did think the song had turned out well. His voice was nothing special, but he had mostly managed to keep the tune that Marceline had set the song to, and he had the recording of it to sing along with. It was the message of it, the sentiment behind it that mattered more than anything else. He dug into his food, ate a good portion of it, and finished off another glass of wine himself. When Alucard had nearly finished his second glass of wine, as they’d agreed, Rhy pushed back his chair. He took his tablet out of his pocket, unlocked it to open the recording of the song, and set it on the table before going down on one knee beside Alucard’s chair and taking hold of his hand. With a warm smile, he asked, “Are you ready to be serenaded, my love?” -- Even on its own, the meal made for a good night. Each singed piece of bacon reminded Alucard that Rhy had cooked the meal himself, and Alucard was left with a couple lingering questions, most notably where in this tiny village of a town Rhy had managed to find such quality cheese. The anticipation merely floated in the air, idly meandering between them on currents. The feeling stretched, taut, with the scuffing of the chair across the floor. His heart beat faster, and Alucard finished off the rest of his wine by the time Rhy knelt before him. His head spun, not so much the wine’s responsibility, and Alucard nodded. His eyes glanced at the tablet, well aware those devices commonly held music. But unanswered, unasked aloud, was the issue of where the music had come from, for a song Rhy had written. They knew a few musicians, his mind suggested before Rhy had the chance to start it. “Mmm, I believe I am, beloved,” Alucard replied. He had asked for this, wagered for it, and though the impetus to it had been their agreement they had both won the bet, Alucard felt breathless. It was so much more. He exhaled and squeezed Rhy’s hand in support. -- Even with warm food in his belly and wine in his veins, Rhy was all nerves. He took a deep breath to steady himself, squeezed Alucard’s hand in return, and then reached up to press play. Marceline’s guitar playing started, and then Rhy began, softly at first and then a little more confidently, to sing along with his own recorded voice. “Oh my love, look how far you’ve come Look back at where you started, Where you were when this began Look at where you are now, Everything you’ve overcome How could you know when this began, How much would come undone? I’ve been beside you in the dark, I will not let you slip away We’ve made it this far, my love, Everything will be yours one day Oh my love, look how far we’ve come Look back at where we started, Where we were when this began Look at where we are now, Everything we’ve overcome How could we know when this began, How much would come undone? You’ve been beside me in the dark, You will not let me slip away We’ve made it this far, my love, Everything will be yours one day We’ve made it this far, my love Everything will be yours one day…” Then, on inspiration, as the very last chords played, he repeated the last two lines in Arnesian, to the same melody. And then he pulled Alucard’s hand to his mouth, and pressed a kiss to his lover’s knuckles. -- The first notes confirmed Alucard’s guess, but the pleasant satisfaction that came from figuring something out, even so little ahead of the reveal, paled next to the song itself. The lyrics evoked strong memories and the imagery beside it, some of it more vague than others (he remembered lying on the floor of his cabin in the Night Spire, Rhy near him, and yet the memory of lying in Rhy’s bed, the color returned to his cheeks, his chest barely rising, came too). How he had watched each slight movement, the way the silver threads wrapped again around each other. A few tears slipped away by the end. And the words lingered, thrumming, in his chest. Everything will be yours one day. A promise, one that sounded confident in Rhy’s, in their, ability to make the life together they wanted. The one they were courting themselves over. The one they hadn’t quite figured out. But they would. Alucard reached down and drew Rhy’s face up, leaning down to meet him in another kiss. The music still haunted the air around them. “Rhy,” he whispered. -- “Yes?” Rhy asked breathlessly. He was emotional, but also relieved, glad to have pulled off this dinner and serenade the way he’d wanted, glad that it had affected Alucard the way he’d hoped it would. He knew it was only words, and there was still so much to work through before he figured out how to make good on his promise, but hopefully this at least went a little farther towards proving that he really, truly meant to. They were both exceptionally good at accomplishing whatever they set their minds to. Surely, surely, they could make this work. Rhy wanted to believe it, needed to believe it, did not want to countenance the possibility that he was setting them both up for heartbreak. At some point during the song he had taken Alucard’s hand in both of his, and he held onto it tightly, staying where he was, his heart in his throat. -- No words immediately came to mind. They both well knew their pasts now, the bits and pieces of it not shared yet something to come over time, something not quite meant for that night. The hope, the drive, the belief… Alucard wanted that and that alone to be this night. To define it. A promise, for this world but more also for theirs. “We will,” Alucard spoke slowly, “We will have everything, each other.” Wholly, completely, without reservation. To believe any less? Alucard always knew there was a chance for failure, had been haunted by it night after night. But that only drove him to look ahead more thoroughly, to plan better, to make the right choices, so that it did happen. -- Rhy’s thumb stroked the back of Alucard’s hand, from his wrist to his knuckles. The idea of giving him up was unbearable, so Rhy knew he would find a way not to do it, come hell or high water (quite possibly both). His heart ached, and he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deep. “Yes,” he agreed, “We will.” He opened his eyes, and then slowly got to his feet, carefully, without letting go of Alucard’s hand. He only moved closer once he was standing, and reached out to brush a strand of hair back behind Alucard’s ear. “I truly believe there is nothing you and I could not accomplish together.” -- His hand left Rhy’s face, as their relative positions shifted; it brushed down his neck, his chest, as Rhy stood and wrapped around his waist loosely. No inclination to let Rhy go completely just then. And no pressure to grasp tightly or lose each other. It was something akin to the way Alucard often grasped his sword, confident in the two acting together. His smile lingered. Alucard had long believed in it, in the possibility that they could, if they both wanted it. A knot loosened in him. Alucard had, since that brief foolish period where he had thought Rhy had only charmed him as he had the rest, long known Rhy liked him, even loved him, in return. That hadn’t been what he got caught up on. It had been an issue of whether that would be enough - for Rhy to forgive him, for Rhy to choose him above anyone else, for Rhy to face what trouble it would raise to marry Alucard, for Rhy to consider all of that future both possible and worth pursuing. Only in that fear loosening was it clear just how much it had grasped him. Alucard nodded. “Whatever we set our mind to,” Alucard agreed. Just then, he leaned into Rhy, against him, and reassured himself it was not some daydream. -- Alucard’s hat tilted slightly on his head as he leaned against Rhy, and Rhy let go of Alucard’s hand so that he could remove the hat and gently set it aside on the table. One of his arms went around Alucard’s shoulders, and he pressed the other hand against Alucard’s cheek, cradling Alucard’s head against his chest. He could not have explained the intensity of the love between them, but it was there nevertheless, no weaker for the time they’d spent apart or everything they’d been through together. If anything it had only grown deeper and fiercer, and it truly felt like a lifeline, one that connected Rhy to his past, his present, and his future. “Marceline helped me with the music for the song,” he murmured quietly. “And recorded it for me. I will send it to you.” He knew that if their positions were reversed, he’d want to hear the song again. He often reread the poem Alucard had written for him, as part of their first bet, to reassure himself. Even without being in Alucard’s shoes, the song reassured him in a different way, a tangible thing that he had done to prove his romantic intentions, to make this courtship feel less one-sided. He was the only one who had confessed to his insecurities in the relationship, but he knew Alucard must feel them too, to some degree. There was too much between them for that to be avoided. He leaned down and kissed the top of Alucard’s head, and stroked Alucard’s hair with one hand. Had it not been tied back, he would have run his fingers through it. “I love you. I will always love you.” -- “Mmm,” Alucard noted, his face leaning far too much against Rhy to say more without moving. Marceline’s name was no surprise; Alucard meant to speak with her again about her songs, the ones she had played at the concert, one of those early evenings just after Rhy had arrived. The music had her touch. It was not magic, but he could hear it. He willfully relaxed a little more against Rhy. The recorded music had been a cue, yet Alucard had still pressed the moment into his memory with great care. The little details, the touch of Rhy’s hand on his, the way his throat moved while he sang, the lack of a crown on his curls. The promise. The promise repeated that was hard to believe, even faced with it. It was not as easy as a promise. Promises took hard work to see through. Alucard knew it was simply a promise to do such work, the hard path. Promises for a world far away from them. But it mattered, their relationship here, not only for their relationship at home, but well, that was always the possibility with traveling to another world, wasn’t it? Not getting back. They could not live that way, here, not entirely. But it was within the possible. His head adjusted slightly, just enough to speak, though it still was not easy. His emotions tangled around him, the structure around them having quivered. “I know,” Alucard said softly. That was not his fear. No, they loved each other fiercely through and through, something that would be enough for most people, something that even two nobles would likely be able to bully their way through. Especially, his brain noted grimly, since their parents were all dead. “I wish I had not doubted it,” Alucard expressed what little regret he had, though he had accepted it. For all the trouble it had been, everything it had put them through, Alucard was not certain they could have successfully defended their world had he not been a privateer, had he not sought his father’s death. Another reason it sat comfortably with him. “But I do not doubt it now. I never will.” He looked up, with a small smile on his face. “Though I do love hearing you say it,” he looked to catch Rhy’s eye. He could set aside the phantoms haunting them for an evening. -- The song had struck a deep chord in Alucard, and Rhy was not immediately sure what it was, but he waited, patiently. When Alucard spoke, it seemed much clearer; it seemed a very familiar sentiment, in fact. Rhy, too, had doubted whether he was loved, had deeply internalized the idea that he wasn’t, that he had foolishly given his heart away to someone who didn’t care. It was a painful feeling, and he ached to know he had caused it in Alucard too, although of course he had. On some level he had guessed that; certainly, he had felt an edge to Alucard’s response to Rhy’s joke about Alucard being his favorite suitor, and he would have taken the words back if he could. He couldn’t, but he could try to make it better. “I gave you every reason to doubt it,” he said quietly. He brushed his thumb along Alucard’s hairline, his forehead, his temple. “Because I doubted you, and I didn’t want you - or anyone else - to know that it hurt.” He drew in a deep breath. “I don’t want to live in fear the possibility of being hurt again. I want to believe we will find a way to make it work, and by choosing that at every turn, eventually make it happen.” He looked down at Alucard. “I want to court you, to get to know you better, to learn your heart, to learn how to work with you as a partner. We will figure out the rest as we go. I truly believe that.” -- Truth weighted Rhy’s next words, even as they puzzled Alucard. Despite the veracity of Rhy’s words, Alucard was one of the last people in the world to have had ways of living that experience. Certainly, locked in a cell, the guards sent away as he screamed himself hoarse, Alucard had not seen anything that showed Rhy cared for him. Perhaps that was among the moment’s Rhy referred to, when he spoke of not letting Alucard know he cared. But Alucard’s moment of weakness had come before he knew anything of Rhy’s reaction to his disappearance. And Alucard had set forth on his path without clarity on Rhy’s feelings. He had known his own, and that had been enough to act, to provide Rhy with the opportunity and reasons to consider him again. But Rhy’s next words were closer to the mark. Love was not always enough, and it was not the easier path for Rhy to take. He had started down the harder one already, permitting Kell to leave and to travel the world as he wished. Kell’s absence, the antari absence, from the crown weakened Rhy’s position, in that so far as politics went, it weakened Arnes’s. It was foolish the way the world saw everything, its conflicting obsessions with both magic and bloodlines, when the two were unrelated, when neither made anyone a more fit king. But it was the world they (not currently) lived in. “You certainly are choosing more difficult ways to rule,” Alucard replied. But it was part of the reason he fell so hard for Rhy. The way he treated people. It was fondly said. His smile grew a little more as he rested his arms more heavily around his lover. “You found the heart of my courtship,” he shared. “I devoted myself to doing everything that I could, to return and to show you both my feelings and my understanding of what loving you means, what making it work would entail. “No matter what happened, I would live without regrets.” It was impossible to make the choice for Rhy. Their relationship working required both of them, more than Alucard could do on his own. It had to be met in return. So his choices were no guarantee. But it was far sweeter to live together without regrets. One hand started to slide along Rhy’s back, and Alucard stretched further upward toward him. “It is rather pleasant to experience that turned back on me,” he said. “And you will get to know me better, to learn my heart, to learn how we work as partners…” -- Rhy laughed at that, a little hoarsely. “As if anything about my reign was ever going to be easy, after the way it’s started.” He had already died and been brought back; he had already seen his city fall apart under a siege of darkness; he had already seen his parents die, and withstood assassination himself; he and Kell had barely lived through containing Osaron. By comparison, finding a way to ensure the inheritance of his throne while also keeping his male lover seemed… well, if not easy, at least it was not another hell to be endured. He pressed his hand against Alucard’s cheek. “What you’ve done for me is exactly the reason why no one else can take your place. I want to choose you because I love you, and because you love me, but you are also what I need in a partner, what the crown and the country needs. You’ve proven it to me, and you will also prove it to them, and I will be at your side when you do.” Warmth followed under his skin in the wake of Alucard’s hand on his back. Rhy slid his hand around to the back of Alucard’s neck, under his hair. He ran his thumb over the back of Alucard’s neck, tracing the line of the top of his spine, and smiled down at his lover. “You can continue to court me as much as you like, but you have nothing left to prove, nothing left to convince me of. I am here, working with you, equally.” His smile widened a little. “And courting you in return, just because I want to, because you’ve chosen a very difficult king to love and rule with, and even when things are hard, the least I can do is make sure that you know you are loved.” -- Alucard highly suspected that no reign was easy, that no matter how it had started, it never would have been easy. The start had tested Rhy beyond what was fair, just a show of how unfair the world was. But different as the path forward looked to be, hopefully one free of world devouring shards of magic, it would have its own difficulties, those that came in other times. When not quaking in fear in a ballroom, the nobles were a force to contend with, the people no small thing either. He stood, and his standing pressed him tightly against Rhy. His hand pressed harder against Rhy’s back, a counterweight that helped balance him. Together, close in height, they were on equal footing. “Courting you… you are not the only one I am courting,” Alucard pointed out. The Essen Tasch had not only proven him to Rhy, not only been the means to overcome his banishment. He had not merely won but won over the crowd and become their champion, that of the common people and the nobles, everyone taken in by his performance. The country, those people… Alucard would still woo them, when they were present. But in the vast hall, in these palace walls that did not bridge the isle, none of those people remained (save Kell, who certainly was not about to approve and whose approval Alucard did not need before marrying Rhy; it would take longer). It was Alucard and Rhy, just the two of them. “But I do enjoy courting you and being courted by you,” Alucard replied. “But, mmm,” he tsked slightly, “you misspoke. I have chosen a very easy king to love. I loved you by the time you first took me to your bed.” He leaned closer, lightly brushing Rhy’s lips and kissing along his jawline to his ear. “And you have only made me fall deeper since.” -- It was a graceful move, and a powerful one, the way Alucard’s body slid against Rhy’s as he stood up, the way he managed not to move away and not to bump any limbs awkwardly together. It made Rhy’s blood heat, his knees grow weak. He was exceptionally grateful for the hand on his back that kept him on his feet. One of his arms was already around Alucard’s shoulders, and he let the other one fall to the other shoulder, curling them around the back of Alucard’s neck, his fingers curling into the back of Alucard’s shirt. “I know,” he said, managing to keep his voice even, though it had taken on a deeper, huskier quality. They were pressed too close for Alucard not to know how fast Rhy’s heart was beating, how his breath had caught and then, only with great willpower, returned to almost normal, just slightly faster than before. “And I have no doubt that you will make your people swoon. No doubt many of them already are, after your performance in the Games.” He would have swooned then, too, if he hadn’t been too busy being hurt; too busy aching over the beautiful magical boy that he’d loved, that he hadn’t believed he could have. He was swooning now, though much more gracefully - he hoped - than the kind of screaming admirers that the competitors in the Games attracted to the stands. He closed his eyes when Alucard’s lips brushed against his, and thus was unprepared for the feeling of the kisses on his jaw. His breath hitched audibly, became ragged, and could not recover. Somehow, he managed to say, “Will you still love me when I’m old and wrinkled?” He knew the answer already, and he knew the answer in his own heart too; Alucard had already aged faster than him, not too drastically, but it was visible upon close scrutiny, and Rhy had been looking. He had also gained scars, on his wrists and in the new silver of his veins, and Rhy loved them fiercely even as he hated the reasons why Alucard had them. |