Ronan Lynch (alteridem) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-08-08 11:07:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, the raven cycle: richard campbell gansey, the raven cycle: ronan lynch |
Log: Ronan & Gansey
He got up and ate breakfast, while his insides churned for a very different sustenance than scrambled eggs. He did his chores and went about his day. But the whisperings in local covens was getting worse – people disappearing – and Ronan felt a small cloud of dread following him around all day. The nightwash started as just a trickle at one eye, later, after dinner. He’d wiped it away with a suddenly shaking hand and rushed out to the dream barn to dream. It seemed to help a little, but the hollow feeling in his gut remained.
The back door slammed as he came into the kitchen and spotted Gansey with his books laid out on the farmhouse table. There was still a smear of black at his eye when he squinted as his best friend. “Don’t suppose you’ve already had a eureka moment in here,” he said, crashing down into a chair to turn one of Gansey’s books towards him.
“I wish.” Gansey had jumped when the door slammed, which wasn’t wholly uncharacteristic of him, but the way his heart skipped a beat and seemed to falter for half a second wasn’t. It seemed to be back to normal another beat later and he pushed that thought to the back of his head, locked away in a little box with other anxiety feelings like being allergic to bees. Accidentally kissing Blue when her amplifier was on. Any more of them being sent home-- The list was starting to feel endless.
“I have a meeting with one of the Covens tomorrow afternoon--” He checked his watch quickly and winced. It was just after midnight already, and he didn’t feel tired. “-Today. But we’re going to combine research.” He looked up and across at Ronan, and immediately noticed the black. His frown deepened and heart did that thing again, but at least as far as anxiety went, this one was a little more normal to react to. “Is that old or new? Did dreaming help?”
Ronan scowled at the book laid out in front of him. He wasn't even reading more than a few words on each page and yet he still felt the dumb thing should give him what he wanted. Adam was better at this shit.
The direction of Gansey's attention made Ronan swipe at his face. His palm came away smeared with the last of the nightwash and he snarled. Hopefully, his own anxiety did bleed through into his words.
"I don't know. A little? It stopped coming out of my fucking face at least." He didn't want to worry Gansey any more than he was already going to worry. He slumped back into his chair. "Might want to add technology increases in Vallo to your research topics. Won't explain the disappearances, but it could be cutting off the flow."
“I don’t want to ask what else it’s coming out of.” Gansey murmured quietly and went back to his own book. He and Adam had hit a wall earlier. There was some old talkings of an few ancient things that could have done this, but it was so hard to track down old information about Vallo. He knew that things like this had been happening a long time - especially if Ancient Vallo was any indication.
He pulled his journal closer so he could scribble Ronan’s idea down immediately, nodding along. “That’s a good idea. I wonder if anyone’s actually poked into that and researched how things have changed as technology boomed.” His messy handwriting was even less legible in all of this, and the underlines and circles were even more emboldened in frustration. “I’ll take anything right now.”
Ronan wasn't yet feeling shitty enough to not laugh at that joke. He snorted and lightly kicked Gansey under the table. "You better not," he warned weakly.
It pleased him that Gansey jotted down his suggestion, even though it shouldn't have surprised him. Stupid validation. He pretended he didn't need it but didn't everyone? The people who didn't were probably sociopaths. Ronan shoved the book away and propped his head up on the table. Watching Gansey work was an old comfort, one he was always surprised he missed. It made him want to lighten the moment and distract his friend from worry for a moment.
"I think I'll propose on the pond. Our first Valentine's here I played a bunch of obnoxious music on that little boat out there. Maybe I'll sing," he deadpanned.
Gansey choked on his tongue. What was it about the past few weeks? Had Ronan overheard his conversation with Adam? He recovered quick enough, dissolving down to a low chuckle with the hope that Ronan was going for surprising him, but just not with the knowledge that he had more information stored away.
“In November?” It was his sly way of asking if things had changed, because Gansey was torn between wanting to know just for his own personal glee of the upcoming planning and so he could quietly debate if he wanted to warn Adam. Right now it was still up in the air. “Might be a little chilly, but your dulcet tones are sure to serenade him right down the aisle.”
Ronan looked smug. The early rumblings of dread that had haunted him all day receded as he sprawled out in his chair and shrugged. "It's not that cold in November. It'll be worth it for the cheese value anyway. Probably."
Admittedly he still wasn't entirely settled on his plan, because every time he thought he was, something stupid happened. Something was screwing with them literally right this second. It felt like any plan he made would go out the window anyway so he kept second guessing whether he should even make a plan at all.
"I...might do something with the fireflies," he said more seriously, glancing away. "Get them to spell out the question in the air? I don't know, it's dumb."
With Adam being so determined to not have the cheese, and Ronan wanting to do just that, Gansey’s smile grew. He gently closed the book he currently had opened and leaned back in his chair to mirror Ronan’s slouch, though couldn’t quite make it look as relaxed or casual, he never could.
“Not dumb, witchy. He likes things like that, and you know it.” They both had seen how Adam was in Cabeswater, when the skies opened to clear blue and sun peeked through the treetops, touching them all with their sunbeams. When Adam looked at his most relaxed, or when he was experimenting with things and his expression was something Gansey could admittedly watch for far too long. It was the kind of Adam he enjoyed the most, one that had forgotten a lot of his worries. “You know as long as it’s just the two of you, together, he’ll enjoy it. It’s not like you could scare him off at this point.”
"Stop looking so fucking smug." Ronan rolled his eyes affectionately. The tension in his shoulders was easing. Even if he was nervous about what was happening, even if he was nervous about planning a proposal in a fucked up place like Vallo, he wasn't at all nervous about Adam's answer. They talked about it so many times now and fought through such bullshit that there wasn't any doubt in his mind that they were getting married.
"I know I won't scare him off, Gansey, I just...want it to be good. Really good. He deserves something really good. Some big dumb magic that's just for him." He scowled and pulled a small sketchbook out of his back pocket. Usually, he had a pen to go with it, but today hadn't exactly gone to plan. He reached over and stole the pencil tucked behind Gansey's ear. He'd probably forgotten it was even there anyway. "Anyway, I've got a shopping cart that sings murder squash for a back-up plan so there's that."
Gansey jerked slightly when the pencil was pulled from his ear, but once he figured out Ronan’s direction, he didn’t complain. He also didn’t point out he had a few others in a nearby pencil case, because there was an ashamed, small part of him that filled the meter of being useful. It was dumb, but it was what it was.
“It’ll be good, Ronan.” Gansey was at least confident in that, but still amused by the fact that both of them were so focused on making it good for other person. He would have to make a bet with Blue later over how likely it would be to end up a mess. “Unless you use that shopping cart that sings murder squash. Can you just do me a favor ahead of time and skip that idea entirely? I know it’s not my proposal, but I’m willing to beg.”
"Ooh, begging. Promise?" Ronan's eyes lit up mischievously and he jotted something down in his sketchbook like he was making a note. Really, he was drawing a little sketch of the back porch. He added a few "fireflies" and the outline of two people. The porch was where they had their second kiss. The one that sealed things as official. That had to be better than their bedroom where they'd had their first kiss. But it wasn't very special to look at. Maybe...he started adding strings of lights.
"Do you...wanna be there?" He scowled at the page and lifted the pencil to scratch behind his ear. "Is that weird? I know public proposals are bullshit, but it's you." His gaze shifted from the book to Gansey. It was a soft look even if the person wearing it wasn't particularly soft on the outside. "We wouldn't have given each other the time of fucking day without you."
Gansey held up his pinkie as if to offer a pinkie promise, and nodded. “Promise.” And he would, because murder squash was a line he had drawn for a long time now and changing that would go against the very principal of everything.
Or it was just because it was fun to have a topic to tease each other with. Though he still maintained that song was an assault on the ears.
His eyebrows went up at Ronan, surprised that it was even an offer. “I-” He didn’t really know what to say there, and eventually just shook his head. “Don’t think so, no? I’ll just be an awkward third wheel and I don’t know that Adam would appreciate that.” Not to mention how keenly it reminded him that his own marriage prospects were unlikely, given the state of his relationship. One significant other not here, the other more likely to rant about marriage being a sexist institution. “I’m happy to hear the story after, you know. You’ll get distracted and want me to leave anyway.” Ronan nodded curtly and bent back over his sketchbook. The tips of his ears burned but most wouldn't know it by looking at him. Gansey wasn't most, of course. But he’d been gentle enough to not make Ronan feel stupid for even asking.
“You’re not a fucking third wheel, but I get it. Don’t tell Parrish I asked.” He could admit, privately anyway, that his relationship with Gansey had always been a little dependent on his end. That’s what happened when someone’s world upended and they had a stable force that loved them no matter what a fuck up they were. Gansey would always be Gansey, separate and special in Ronan’s heart. He sketched Chainsaw carrying a ring box in her beak. “You’re gonna have to deal with us fighting over you for best man anyway,” he mumbled. “If I have my way, Sargent is getting ordained.”
“I won’t,” Gansey answered softly, because he didn’t have it in his heart to protest and also because he had no plans on sharing cross-information between the two of them at all. Adam had already been sniffing around what Gansey knew, and he too easily gave himself away to both of them. But being told he wasn’t a third wheel was where half of his smile came from, and then to throw in the comment about best man?
He was a goner. It was surely why his heart skipped a few beats and went into a rapid tempo when he shoved his face into his notebook, cheeks flaming. Realistically he knew it made sense, but to have it be said so firmly made his heart swell three sizes. “You know she’ll love that. Especially if you give her a little freedom.”
Gansey looked up at Ronan through his lashes, pausing with whatever he was writing. “Has your timetable escalated at all? How goes the ring?”
Ronan smiled in spite of himself, stealing a quick glance at Gansey's dumb face. It was always wild how Gansey didn't seem to really believe his importance in Ronan and Adam's life. Any excuse to remind him felt good. Right. Like restoring balance to the universe.
"Still set on my birthday. I don't see that changing," he shrugged, erasing a bit of the sketch to fix Adam's smile. "I...I have the ring. I can show you later." He kept his head down and his eyes on the page now, willing away the heat on the back of his neck. "But if you hate it, you have to keep your mouth shut because I can't be overdoing the dreaming with whatever the fuck is going on right now." He swiped at the corner of his eye again, feeling the ghost of nightwash. "When we're past this, then you can tell me."
Gansey stifled a little laugh, still looking pleased and pink in the cheeks. So Adam would beat Ronan to the punch, which wasn’t necessarily a surprise but it was very Adam of him. It almost made him want to be a fly on that wall, for just the amusement of it.
He reached out to flick the end of his pen on Ronan’s hand. “It’s not my ring I have no real say in this, though I’m sure it fits the two of you perfectly.” He watched Ronan’s face carefully, for nightwash, for stress, for the looks he’d seen many times over by now. “I’ve seen what you can dream up, both the strange and the beautiful, and it’s all extraordinary. Something to look forward to.”
Later, because now was-- touchy. Gansey snapped his book closed and pushed it to the side. “I’m not getting anything else from this tonight. Do you want to go make a late night store run with me?” Like the old days.
Ronan made an annoyed noise. Trust Gansey to be reasonable and flattering. "It could be butt ugly and you know it," he grumbled, closing the sketch book and pushing up to his feet. He didn't give back Gansey's pencil. He put it in his back pocket instead. Gansey probably had like twelve anyway.
"We are low on orange juice." He patted Gansey playfully on the cheek with his sketchbook as he passed by. There was still something looming, but Ronan felt calmer than he had all day. "Move it or lose it, old man."
“Bet it isn’t,” Gansey shot back with a little side grin. He tilted himself out of the chair and jumped forward so he could grab his car keys and dangle them near Ronan. “Moving it. Also I’m driving. It’s safer this way, with the possibility of waypoints messing up.”
Not that he had to make excuses, taking the Pig out in the dead of night was a glorious pastime they hadn’t quite given up, even with the ease of instant transportation.