Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had been so long since they started waking up at 6am, they had forgotten any other way to be. For Laios it had been an easy switch. He had always been a farm boy, and he told Kabru once that if he ever woke before the roosters, he would wake everyone up in their place.

Luckily for everyone in the palace, that particular habit ended with Laios’ childhood. Unluckily for Kabru, he had still been intimately acquainted with cries of the human sort. Makalu at least had been predictable with his crying, almost as accurate as a clock. Thirteen years later with Pumori, they never had that luxury. It seemed like as soon as they had her settled, a new grievance would arise that she needed to announce to the world. Kabru could sympathize with that.

Kabru didn’t like mornings, but he grit his teeth through them. Laios helped by laying his clothes out for him and making him coffee. Kabru got annoyed when he tried to get him up with kisses or hugs, so Laios would often rub his hand between his own like he was starting a fire. It would make Kabru groan and push his hands away, but he got up regardless. Then he would check the calendar as he sipped his coffee.

Once they were dressed, they would check on Pumori. They had just started letting her sleep in her own room, and Kabru could tell Laios was a little sad about it, but wasn’t sad to have their privacy back, if his libido was any indication.

She was already awake when they came in to get her dressed and ready for breakfast, sitting up and slapping the bars of her crib as soon as she saw them. Kabru usually ended up being the one to style her hair since it was closer to his own texture and Laios was completely hopeless with anything related to personal appearance. A simple ponytail would suffice today, since she was having a hard time tolerating his pruning.

Breakfast started at 8am. Usually Marcille would join them. If they were lucky, Falin and Makalu would make an appearance around 9am when their plates had already been cleared. Kids his age should be getting a little more sleep, to accommodate for the hormonal changes happening in their brains and bodies, but Falin’s tardiness seemed to be a quirk more than anything.

Meals were one of the rare times that they got to sit together as a family before they were swept up in the wonderfully mundane chaos of bureaucracy. It was already unprecedented that they got to take on any parental duties, given that the expectation, and no doubt easier option, would be to assign a maid to the task. Through sheer force of will they managed to raise their children and a country through their infancies, and Kabru was very proud of that fact.

Surprisingly, when they arrived at the table, Marcille, Makalu, and Falin were already seated.

“Oh! Good morning. Sorry to keep you all waiting,” Kabru smiled at them, finally awake. The table had been set for 5, a spread of breakfast food in the center. There were eggs, sausages, bacon, oatmeal, 4 kinds of bread, summer fruit, pancakes, butter, jam, coffee, green and black tea and no, to his relief, monster food.

As soon as they walked in, Pumori walked over to her high chair, grabbing at it. Truth be told she was a bit too old to still be using it, but they had found the restrictiveness calmed her down. He walked up behind her and lifted her into it. It was the same chair Makalu used, a gift, handmade by Chilchuck for his first birthday.

“Are you hungry, sweetheart?” He asked her once she was settled inside. She nodded. Kabru tried not to jump for joy. She was getting so good at answering questions.

Laios went to sit on the other side of Pumori, smiling at Makalu as he passed by. It seemed like their relationship was so effortless compared to their own- like their shared Touden genes put them on a wavelength Kabru could never tap into no matter how hard he tried to remain an expert in the subject.

Plus, Makalu had been given more diplomatic responsibilities lately, and predictably he tended to avoid them until someone would have no choice but to hold his hand through them. He wondered where he had learned that trick.

“What do you want to eat?” he asked Pumori.

She pointed at the oatmeal next to Kabru’a hand. He looked at Laios. She didn’t really like sticky things, or at least, the ones she’d tried before. Laios shrugged and grabbed a small bowl for her. Kabru grabbed another plate, putting some sliced strawberries and a half piece of toast on it- two safe options. Laios placed the bowl in front of her. She was too little to know how to use a spoon, so she dug her finger into it and swirled it around. Everyone at the table watched as she stuck it in her mouth, eagerly waiting for her reaction.

It didn’t disappoint. Her face curled in disgust when she finally managed to swallow. Everyone cooed at her in sympathy. She pushed the bowl away, and Kabru replaced it with the other plate.

“How did it go yesterday?” Laios asked.

The instant look of surprise and guilt on their faces told Kabru everything he needed to know. Laios had let a secret spill that was not meant for Kabru’s ears.

“Yes, Makalu, how did it go?” Kabru asked, sweet as honey.

Laios, knowing damn well he would make things worse if he spoke up now, closed his mouth so quickly his teeth actually snapped shut. The older Laios got the more Kabru thought he was becoming a parody of himself.

Makalu smiled quietly to himself and said, “Oh, we just went to a dungeon last night,”

Oh. Kabru took a deep breath. Kabru spun a wheel in his head to decide who he should lecture first: his son for lying to him, his son’s father for lying to him, his (sort of?) sister in law for lying to him, or his other (sort of?) sister in law for lying to him. He took hold of the spinner with both hands before letting it go. It spun so hard and so fast the friction caused it to start smoking. Which part of his brain would the fire take first? His hippocampus? His amygdala? Better yet, just take his whole frontal lobe! What did he need rational thought for anyway? His family obviously had it covered.

“I see,” Kabru said calmly. He had been meditating a lot more lately. He hated it. He noticed everyone at the table was sweating profusely. Oh no, just for him? They shouldn’t have.

“It was all my fault Kabru, really. I mentioned it offhandedly to him that we were collecting samples and he followed us in,” Marcille started, frantically trying to stop a fight. Kabru didn’t understand why. Did he look like an irrational person?

Sure, they all knew Makalu wasn’t allowed in the dungeons. What did it matter what one of his fathers wanted? He was such a nag anyway. Let the kid have his fun, it’ll be fine! We’ll protect him if something happens. Kabru knew one day he would come to regret surrounding himself with lunatics. He had inadvertently given Pumori the burden of being his last line of defense against these people. Please! Give your Baba strength!

She was watching a butterfly in the window while she chewed her toast. He sighed.

“Then Laios, dearest, light of my life, how did you know our son went with them?”

He could forgive his son’s aunts. They were supposed to be rule breakers, he supposed. That was the point of being an aunt wasn’t it?

“Kabru, maybe we should…” Laios started.

“Don’t blame Dad, he wasn’t there. I told him you said it was fine,” he replied calmly.

Kabru pursed his lips.

“Well I’m certainly glad to hear your father didn’t try to crawl out of our window and break a hip for your little excursion to see slime and bat droppings,”

Lately, Kabru was more concerned with who would be found in the dungeons than what. The demon’s curse prevented Laios from getting close to any monsters, of course, but that couldn’t protect him from the fanatics that still frequented dungeons.

“We saw a kelpie, actually,” he corrected, not because he was trying to be irritating, but because he was trying to make sure Kabru was accurately irritated.

“Oh, even better,”

So they had traveled far enough that they saw more powerful monsters.

“We had Auntie’s protective magic. It was fine,” he said, shrugging.

Makalu was sitting with his legs crossed, staring at his cooling cup of tea. Since when did he like tea?

“This time it was,” Kabru said.

He knew he was being baited. He knew this argument would end like it always had. No matter what he said differently, he could never explain himself well enough. He didn’t expect Makalu to understand the breadth of his feelings or the full weight of his position yet, but unfortunately, he did not have the luxury of experimentation like other children. Makalu would only see Kabru as a warden of the most prestigious jail in the country until he was able to leave, and he had accepted that fact.

Most days, he felt like a cliche: the overbearing, anxious father forbidding his child to leave the castle walls in fear. Kabru wasn’t forbidding it, he just thought Makalu was too young, too ill prepared. Kabru was twenty the first time he went inside a dungeon and he still died! Multiple times! Makalu was only sixteen, and he was already under more pressure than Kabru ever was. Surely, he needed to take things slower, for his own development.

Makalu had been raised hearing stories of his father, how he saved humanity by eating the most selfish being in the world, by loving what was disgusting. “The Devourer of All Things Horrible” used to change his diapers. Why would he have anything to fear?

His “Auntie” Marcille was the court magician and one of the greatest ancient magic scholars of the era. She was a walking contradiction, a total rejection of traditionalism, yet she was fascinated with everything that came before her, and dedicated to extending the lives of everyone she loved. Why did he have to follow any of the rules? She broke international law, and she was sort of world renowned for it.

He heard of Falin’s travels across the great continents- how she refused money from the royal treasury and paved her own way by performing exorcisms, living in bunk beds and the kindness of others. Oh yeah, had we mentioned that she was 15% dragon?

Then there was his boring old Baba. One of his son’s favorite pastimes was to tease Kabru for his early “obsession” with Laios and was absolutely convinced he had loved him since the first time they met. Makalu’s ambivalence towards politics fueled this assumption and because Kabru preferred to downplay his own political involvement, Makalu was sure Laios was just being nice when he said it actually was thanks to Kabru that Melini remained prosperous.

Surely, it was easier to imagine him as a lovestruck idiot than someone who would do anything to protect humanity. Makalu could understand Kabru’s love for his father, heavy with life and tangible, but never for the nameless ideas of people he would never meet or care for directly.

But Makalu wasn’t there when Kabru thought Laios was a threat to humanity. He wasn’t there when Laios put the fate of millions on the line to save his only sister, to save his friends. While his actions were understandable, they were reckless. Makalu wasn’t there when the world itself was almost swallowed whole. He also wasn’t there when Utaya was destroyed.

Sure, Makalu had been told the story, the real story, not the one that would be written in historical texts, but it was still just a story to him. He asked questions about it like one would characters in a play, which Kabru supposed he was also guilty of, but he digressed.

The boy couldn’t help it, he knew. In fact he never wanted Makalu to suffer like he had. He supposed that was the most frustrating aspect in all of this, how much he empathized with what Makalu wanted. He felt his yearning, but could not give into it. At least, not yet.

“When was the last time you even went to a dungeon? They aren’t as bad as they used to be. It’s not like I went alone, anyway,” he sighed, like he was he was the exasperated parent explaining himself to a child.

“You snuck in behind them?”

Had he used an illusion?

“They would have invited me, if it weren’t for you always bossing everyone around”

He heard the anger building through the cool unaffected tone of Makalu’s voice after Kabru ignored his question.

Makalu’s words didn’t hurt him, not really. His anger didn’t scare him either, it was developmentally normal. Nothing he was saying was particularly shocking for a boy his age. Kabru had endured worse, and he suspected when she could speak, Pumori would have no problem sharing her thoughts either.

It was impressive what he did, really. From a completely objective standpoint. If only he had funneled this energy into something productive.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,”

He could see how much his professional tone of voice annoyed Makalu, but what was the alternative? When had their communication become so stilted? How was it that Kabru spoke several languages, but none that Makalu understood?

Makalu knew Laios wasn’t the best at communicating, but it never seemed to harm their relationship. In fact, Makalu seemed to understand Laios intrinsically, much like Falin did, and more than anything he understood how fiercely Laios loved living. Kabru knew it too. He saw that everlasting hunger in his eyes everyday, in the fields with farmers, in the castle kitchens, in every letter he pressed his seal into, and every kiss he laid upon his skin.

Makalu had never been threatened with the loss of that love. That’s why, Kabru hypothesized, Makalu had been obsessed with death from a very early age.

When Izutsumi would bring him dead monsters, he took them apart immediately, just so he could put them back together. Laios often encouraged this, would quiz him, even. When one of their dogs broke his leg, he insisted on healing it naturally, with a splint he made himself. He made his first taxidermy mouse when he was 9. His walls were covered in jarred animal parts, some translucent and dyed so that you were able to see each bone. He collected insects too, and he had a whole laboratory dedicated to his endeavors.

Could you imagine having your 10 year old ask you for formaldehyde for his birthday? Could you imagine actually saying yes?

When he was 12, Makalu would beg everyone who had been in the Island’s dungeon to tell him what it felt like to die. He was always disappointed when he got the same answer: they only remember waking up.

They never told Makalu about the hired rogues who came very close to killing Laios 7 years ago. At the time, he didn’t want it to frighten him, but now Kabru feared it made them seem invincible. No matter how many times he told him that they don’t have the same resurrection magic like they used to, Makalu argued that Marcille could do anything.

Makalu also hated combat- whenever Kabru tried to train him he refused, preferring anyone else in the castle to teach him. Kabru was always too technical, he said. He was scary when they spared, he said. Kabru pretended like it didn’t bother him, but it did. He had hoped to pass some sort of wisdom onto him, and he was beginning to feel like he had failed to prepare him for the world he would inherit.

Kabru sighed. He could tell Makalu was waiting for him to respond, to get angrier with each passing word.

“Baba just wants you to be safe, Makalu,” Laios said. “Dungeons are very dangerous, and you don’t have a lot of experience,”

“But you don’t even agree with him. I know you don’t. Everyone is just too scared to say anything,”

It was almost cute that Makalu thought Kabru had this much power over the other three. If that were the case, this country would run a lot smoother.

Then there was a loud clatter next to them, and they turned to see that Pumori had thrown her plate on the floor, it was wooden, thankfully. Kabru turned to pick it up.

“What happened?” he asked her, “What did that plate do to you, hm?”

Makalu huffed in frustration. He loved his little sister, but Kabru could see vestiges of jealousy in him. He was older and a more complicated person now, his mistakes could no longer always be met with kind laughter. He craved the hand holding while simultaneously despising it, Kabru guessed.

“See? He’s ignoring me because he knows I’m right. He always has to have his way. You always have to do as he says. You guys are so spineless around him,”

Kabru turned back to him, pointedly unfazed.

“Forgive me for wanting to have a more productive conversation,” he said, and he felt an instant pang of regret in his chest. He was being catty now. It was a bad example.

Before Makalu could spit anything back, Falin spoke up.

“Makalu? Can I talk to you outside for a moment?”

“Oh, sure yeah. Make it quick though,” he remarked sarcastically, “I wouldn’t want to scare Baba by being out of his sight for longer than 10 minutes.”

Laios glanced at Kabru, and he felt another wave of irritation.

“Makalu, go, please,” Laios said, voice stern.

“I am,” he huffed back, standing up and nearly knocking the chair over.

“We won’t be long,” she said.

He followed her out of the dining room.

He could feel Laios hovering behind him, and Marcille itching to say something.

“Just spit it out,” Kabru blanched.

Pumori opened her mouth, empty now, thankfully.

“No, not you,” he laughed “Them,”

“I’m sorry, Kabru. I was just so distracted with the samples we collected yesterday and everything just happened so quickly. It’s just that deadline we set, it’s coming faster than I originally- I should have sent him back, I know, it’s just- It’s so hard to say no to him and he gets so excited I-,” she could hardly finish one sentence before beginning another.

Kabru continued feeding Pumori. She was a quiet baby, except when she needed something. He worried about her language aquisition a lot, so he spoke to her and read to her often. Laios told him not to worry, that both him and Falin had been quiet babies too. That was somehow not very reassuring since she was three and a half now, and very little came out of her. Makalu had been a babbler. It was funny how quiet he was now, because he had been able to articulate entire sentences since he was one, which they all thought was extraordinary.

“It’s quite alright, Marcille,” Kabru said. There was no use in getting angry with her. She had always been one of his closest allies in this. She agreed that Makalu was too young, despite how easily magic came to him. Makalu, like his father, knew exactly what to pull to get his way, unfortunately, and Marcille was quite attached to him.

His king, he knew, was a different story all together. He had always been a complicated man, complicated more by the needs of his position and his base urges. Even if logic did penetrate, he found a way to get a taste of what he really wanted, consciously or not. He supposed that’s how they ended up having children together, despite how unorthodox the whole thing had been. God forbid Yaad had been around to see how it all played out.

“Kabru,” he put his hand on his shoulder. Kabru had the urge to shrug it off, but he knew he couldn’t.

“Could you give us a minute?” he asked Marcille.

“Shouldn’t we all talk about this?” she said.

Much like Kabru himself, she wanted to be involved in everything. He usually liked this about her, but the occasions in which they found themselves with adversarial points of view, their conversations quickly became explosive. Falin was often a skillful intermediary, Laios a very clumsy one.

“I think it would be best if you went to attend your duties at this time, Marcille,” Kabru responded, resolute in his politeness.

“Kabru, I’ll make it up to you, really. It was never my intention to keep a secret like that. I was just… finding the right way to tell you,”

Laios was quiet, paralyzed even. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why had he kept their lie?

“Marcille, I really think it would be best if you went to attend your duties at this time,” Kabru repeated through gritted teeth.

“Fine,” she said finally. She nearly slammed the door as she left. The loud noise made Pumori jump. Her face crinkled, the telltale sign she would begin to cry.

“Oh… honey,” Laios said to her soothingly. She began crying with not quite as much gusto as she was capable of, but enough. He tried taking her out of her chair but she protested, trying to squirm out of his grasp. Kabru brought his chair to her so that they could be eye to eye.

“Oh, you’re okay,” he said to her. She looked at him as she continued to wail. He offered his hands for her to hold on to. She grabbed them and squeezed.

“It was just the door. You’ll be okay,” he said. Once her cries had calmed down a bit, she let go of his hands in favor of reaching her arms out to him, asking to be held. He couldn’t lie, he was so pleased, especially after… that disagreement. He felt Laios wearing the rejection next to him like a shroud, and he couldn’t help but feel avenged. So you were listening to Baba earlier, clever girl!

“You know, it doesn’t feel good to be undermined like this,” Kabru said as he rubbed Pumori’s back.

“I’m not trying to undermine you. I’m sorry,” Laios glanced at the ground.

“We disagree. I know that. I’m sorry for making you humor me this long,”

“It’s not like that. I just think that this isn’t going to go away. I hate seeing you two at eachothers throats,”

“Sometimes the right decision is worth the fight,”

Laios sighed. He often got frustrated when it sounded like Kabru was talking strategy when it came to their children, that everything could be carefully planned and executed. Kabru wasn’t naiive enough to think that, so the assumption irritated him.

“Um, Kabru… Can you put her down for a minute?”

Alright, here it comes. He’s going to say something like “There’s no angle to this, Kabru.” Or he’ll say “This is our son, not some dwarven lord.”

He sighed, honoring his request by placing her back in her chair. She discovered her forgotten strawberries right away, happy to refuel after exhausting her energy.

“You’re hurt,” Laios said, plainly, like you might point out someone’s shoe was unlaced.

What? He looked down, expecting to see blood or broken skin. All he saw was Laios kneeling before him, hands on his thighs.

“I see it. Plain as day. You’re walking around, bleeding out, pretending like you aren’t. It makes me sad,”

Kabru swallowed, trying to understand what he meant. Sometimes it felt like a riddle, overly cryptic and beautifully simplistic.

“You’re bearing your teeth, hoping we won’t notice. Hoping that if you’re scary enough, the thing that’s trying to eat you will back off,”

Laios took his hands in his.

“Where does it hurt? Let me take care of you,”

Kabru, feeling small and disarmed, put a single finger to his chest.

A heavy knock sounded at the door. Laios looked at Kabru desperately before tearing his gaze away. While they had made it very clear early on that the king would take his meals in private, interruptions weren’t uncommon.

Drawing the boundary between public and private life remained fraught in every other aspect, but at least their dining room was sacred. There was nothing he hated more than being pulled away during a family meal, and especially now, during such an intimate conversation.

He kissed the back of Kabru’s hands before standing. Kabru wanted to respond, but he felt no words coming to him. He saw real anger on his face for a moment, not directed at him, but a storm brewing inward.

Hurt? Bleeding out? Baring his teeth? What the hell was he talking about?

Laios stepped outside for a moment. He should follow him, see what the problem was. Was it the architects from Kakha Brud? Was it the archival restoration project managers? Had they received their next batch of agricultural survey results? Instead he watched Pumori stare at the door he had just walked through. Then, at their abandoned breakfast. What was Falin talking to Makalu about? The curiosity ate at him.

When Laios returned, he looked even more anguished, and Kabru stood up.

“What is it?”

“Oh, it’s… well. There are more reports coming in about roots rotting in the soil in the Southern quarter,”

“The treatment didn’t take?”

Laios rubbed the back of his head.

“So far, not really. It’s not too late in the season to keep planting though, so not all is lost, yet. We have the samples Marcille collected to test, too,”

“I see,” Kabru said, his hand going to his chin.

“But, Kabru, I,” his face was contorted in frustration.

“You should go. Look over the reports. I can clear your schedule. You should go see for yourself. Take Marcille and the other agricultural stewards. I trust your judgment,”

“But Kabru, shouldn’t we talk about this?” he put his hands on his shoulders.

“We’ll have time for it later. This is more important,” Kabru rested his hand on his.

“Okay. Just, come find me at lunch. Please,” Laios pleaded.

Kabru nodded, and he wanted to smile, he knew he should have, but couldn’t.

“Okay. I will,” he nodded.

Laios made a face like he wanted to speak, but then another knock sounded at the door. He closed his eyes and huffed.

“I would go with you, but I can’t blow off the Kahka Brud architects any more. I might start a war if I do,”

Laios pecked him on the lips before turning. On his way out he leaned over to kiss Pumori on the forehead.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” he said to her.

Kabru sat silently for a few moments before Pumori started fussing, looking suspiciously like she was about to throw her plate across the room again. His own breakfast went cold.

Chapter Text

That morning Kabru was sorting through their royal mail. It was one of his favorite tasks for the sheer variety of correspondence they would receive. Invitations addressed to the king, requests for an audience, general complaints, which were sometimes quite funny, job applications, solicitors, prank letters, etc. It was simple but entertaining work, and once Kabru had entered a flow state, the hours passed quickly. It wasn’t as fun as filling out the actual request documents or planning Laios’ schedule, though.

Around noon, he heard a knock on his door. He was about to answer when it opened, Mithrun stepping through the threshold like he did it everyday.

“You wanna spar?” he asked. No greeting, no preamble. There was something vaguely angsty about how he stood that Kabru couldn’t quite understand. Was it fatigue or general grumpiness? Was it just his appearance that betrayed him and internally he felt fine? He hadn’t aged in the slightest in the two decades he’d known him, which made him appear even more spectral.

He thought about Laios’ plea from earlier. With Laios it was hard to know what would trigger his focus, if Kabru’s disappearance would distract him from any and every task, or if he wouldn’t even notice it. Still, it had been awhile since he had a sparring partner that could actually challenge him. Laios had dealt with worse tragedies. It would be fine.

“Yes, I would,”

Their training room had become quite robust over the years thanks to Namari’s help with the development of an official amory. Kabru’s hand hovered over the wooden practice equipment, glancing at Mithrun.

“Just use the real thing,” he grunted.

“Alright,”

They stood at opposite ends of the practice floor. Kabru took in a breath, before taking his stance. He tried his best to stay in shape, but he would be lying if he said he was at his peak performance. He lunged forward, going for his liver. Mithrun parried, opening up Kabru’s ribcage for him to shove his foot into. Kabru gasped and took hold of Mithrun’s foot, throwing him off balance. From there he swept his grounded foot so he fell flat on his ass.

Kabru smiled, towering over him.

“So how have you been lately?”

Mithrun smiled. “Fine,”

He tried to sweep Kabru’s foot but he was quick enough to jump over his leg. Mithrun took that chance to stand again and take a lunge at Kabru’s stomach.

Over the years Mithrun had begun to show more emotion. He looked less dehydrated too. He was married now, which was endlessly entertaining. To know he could get his desire back in that way was exciting, though Kabru couldn’t help but wonder if it could have just been fueled by the discovery of some strange fetish. He really didn’t want to ask. Okay no. He really wanted to ask, but never had the courage.

“You’re distracted,” Mithrun taunted, taking another jab at his liver. This time, he cut a slash through Kabru’s tunic.

Now thoroughly annoyed, like Mithrun knew he would be, he swung at Mithrun’s neck. He blocked it easily, opening up Kabru’s torso to drive his knee into. Kabru took the chance to set Mithrun off balance again, shifting his weight from under him. He stood tall over him again, except Mithrun’s face looked surprised.

“What? Didn’t think I still had it in me?”

“No, you’re-“

He blinked, looking down. He saw a flash of blood, then nothing.

He woke up a few seconds later, Mithrun looking over him.

“You had been bleeding for a while there. I healed you after you passed out” he said plainly.

Kabru sat up.

“It’s really not like you to not notice. Have you really aged that poorly?”

“Oh shut up,” Kabru sighed. “I just, I have a lot on my mind,”

Mithrun was quiet for a moment.

“Lilia is leaving,”

Kabru gaped.

“What? Where is she going?”

“She said she was tired,” he shrugged, looking at the ground.

Kabru’s mind swirled with possible explanations, different scenarios.

“I see,” he said finally, trying to sound calm.

Mithrun didn’t seem like the type to want an apology or sympathy. He simply stated how things were, and let everyone else around him decide how to feel about it.

“What will you do?”

Mithrun looked at him like it was a stupid question.

“I’ll keep minding the shop,”

“You won’t fight for her?”

“If everything could be solved by a fight, you would be out of a job,” he smirked.

“Seriously, Mithrun. I can help you two talk. Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding. I mean, is this what you want?”

Kabru was too shocked to really wrap his head around the relationship ending so abruptly. Surely, he would have seen signs.

“I want her to be happy. She taught me how to want that,”

Though it was as cliche as you could get, the sincerity in Mithrun’s voice made it sound brand new. Just as he had discovered this desire 10 years ago, when he married Lilia.

Mithrun walked over to Kabru and offered him his hand.

“I won’t be her cage,” he said finally. As if that was a logical end to the conversation. Mithrun often spoke vaguely, like you were reading a book with every other sentence crossed out. This time, his meaning was quite clear. At that moment their difference in age felt staggering.

“Did Falin talk to you?”

“No. Your son comes to the shop a lot with his friends. They’re loud and waste too many napkins. I hear everything I need to know from him, since you hardly ever show your face,”

“I have a 3 year old! Does your shop have high chairs? She tends to wriggle,”

Mithrun made a face that suggested the desire to reproduce would always elude him. Kabru laughed.

“You can’t force him to be something he isn’t,” Mithrun said, another supremely cliche thing to say, but he somehow made it cool again, because Kabru knew it took a lot for him to care enough to say anything at all.

———

A page knocked on Kabru’s door to notify him that the diplomat from Kahka Brud had arrived early. Kabru pinched the bridge of his nose. He was supposed to have a meeting with Laios and agricultural stewards about the failing farms in the Southern territory. This land had been subject to crop failures in the past, based on the historical documents they had unearthed.

Because Laios had not yet returned, they couldn’t exactly have their meeting anyway. He probably got distracted with paltry offerings of respect from the farmers, said something strange to them as thanks, while Marcille was left to pick up the pieces. Laios had surely matured into his role, no longer disappearing for hours on end or blatantly yawning during meetings, but he could still be tactless.

His meeting with the diplomat from Kahka Brud was supposed to occur in the evening to discuss the plans for bridge construction, revised and updated docking procedures, more robust fishing equipment ect.

Kabru wished he could say his argument with Makalu hadn’t been on the forefront of his mind throughout the whole meeting. He also felt a pang of guilt for avoiding Laios after he had begged him to try and find him. Also for shutting Marcille down when she was trying her best to explain herself.

Mithrun’s blase attitude about his divorce also irritated him the more he thought about it. He wished he had tried harder to talk some sense into him about it. Or at least tried to get more details. Would it be inappropriate for him to contact Lilia directly? Surely, she would assume she was being blackmailed.

By the time their meeting had adjourned, Kabru was starving. He ran into Laios on the way to the dining room. The swell of joy he felt when he saw him was as surprising as it was familiar.

“Hey,”

“Hi,”

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Laios confessed.

“Am I supposed to act surprised about that?” Kabru asked, smiling coyly.

Laios took a look around them before pulling Kabru into his arms. He laughed, the sudden attention making him giddy. Laios had this habit of sniffing his neck like a dog whenever they embraced. Probably something to do with pheromones.

“If you’re doing this in an effort to make me forget I’m supposed to be mad at you, I’m afraid you’ll have to try a little harder,”

“No, you deserve to be mad at me. I’m just happy to see you,” he squeezed him and Kabru’s stomach growled.

Laios parted from him, frowning.

“Did you eat lunch?”

Kabru had the impulse to lie. He didn’t know why. Some kind of animal instinct to appear invulnerable.

“No. I had a sparring match with Mithrun instead,”

“Ah. How… is he?”

Laios never liked Mithrun that much, and he could see him making a valiant effort to suppress that emotion for Kabru’s sake. He had a dry sense of humor and didn’t warm to people easily, which made it difficult to get to know him. He could be thoughtless and unfeeling, though through no fault of his own. He suspected Laios disliked the parts of himself he saw in him. Or maybe Kabru was overthinking it, because he liked Mithrun, and he wanted Laios to as well. It was probably never going to happen though.

“Lilia is leaving him,”

Laios’ eyebrows shot up.

“No! Really?” He covered his mouth in shock. “They’ve only been married for what- 2 years?”

Kabru rolled his eyes.

“Try ten,”

Laios gasped again.

“What? Really?”

“I’m as shocked as you are, somehow,”

“What are we shocked about?”

They both turned to see Falin walking down the hall with Pumori at her side. Kabru had to be honest, at first he had reservations about Falin watching her during the day. Through no fault of her own, she was sometimes careless, especially when it came to safety, because her protection magic was so automatic to her.

“Oh, Falin. Hi Pumori,”

“Oh hi!” Laios beamed.

When Pumori saw them she bounded up to them, crashing into Kabru’s knees. They laughed and squatted to talk to her.

“How was your day?” Kabru asked, noticing that Falin was carrying a small jar. He momentarily feared Pumori would take up the same hobby as Makalu.

“Why don’t you tell Papa and Baba what you found,” Falin smiled, handing the jar to her.

“Casiller,” she said proudly. She had trouble with her “r”s. They came out more like “w”s.

The two of them peered into it intensely. There were a few mulberry leaves at the bottom, and several black and yellow striped caterpillars crawling on top of them.

“Where did you catch your caterpillars?” Laios asked.

She looked up at Falin for help.

“Do you remember?” she prompted.

“Under a tree,”

“Which tree, honey? The big one by the stables?”

She nodded.

Falin shook her head at them, but didn’t correct her verbally.

“Have you named them?” Kabru asked.

“Rabbit, Lu, Fat,”

“She means fast,” Falin said. “Fast, right?”

Lu was what Pumori called her brother. Kabru tried not to keel over.

“Why’d you name him Lu?” Laios asked.

“Ummm… He’s sleep too much,” she said, grinning.

Kabru laughed behind his hand. Laios actually guffawed. She laughed too, then stuck her arms out, asking to get picked up.

“What do we say?”

“Uppies,” she said, blending the words “up” and “please” together.

“How can I deny such a pretty young lady? Can you hand the jar to Papa first?”

She did as she was told. He scooped her into his arms.

“Are you hungry, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, and Kabru could cry, he was so happy to hear her little voice after a long day.

“Falin, you’ll never believe who is getting a divorce!” Laios all but sang, suddenly remembering their conversation from earlier.

“Lower your voice!” Kabru hissed at him.

Makalu didn’t join them for dinner that night. Kabru wanted to make him come, but he knew how much he had hated his own mother’s force feeding rituals and refrained.

“What did you do with Auntie today?” Laios asked.

She was too distracted with her pasta to answer.

“How was she today, Falin?” Kabru asked.

The real question he wanted to ask buzzed in his mind: what did you and Makalu talk about?

“Oh, she was wonderful. Today we went on a walk, looked for mushrooms and found caterpillars instead, played hide and seek, sang our alphabet song, and took a nap. Oh! She managed to pull three feathers out of my back today,” Falin laughed behind her hand.

Kabru eyed her suspiciously.

“Is that true?”

She smiled around the pasta she was eating.

“I like that she follows her own rules. We need a leader like that I think. Though I won’t pretend to know much about it,”

“I wish I could have hung out with you guys,” Laios sighed.

Marcille strode in, looking tired. The air shifted as she walked through, as if she had been stewing in her gloom alone in her laboratory all day.

“Sorry I’m late everyone,”

“How are the samples coming?” Laios asked.

“We won’t know until tomorrow,” Marcille sighed.

Marcille looked at Kabru guiltily before speaking up.

“Kabru… I wanted to apologize about this morning. I was being selfish. I knew that Makalu was disobeying you. But by the time we realized he had been tailing us, it would have been dangerous for him to go back alone. So we let him come, because I wanted the samples,”

Falin had wrapped her hand around hers as she had been speaking. Everyone else sat in silence as they took in her confession. Kabru swallowed. In his anger he had overlooked Marcille’s real role in the situation, that ultimately she was the adult, and Makalu the child. In some ways he felt like he couldn’t be mad at her. He didn’t know if it was a subconscious thing he learned as a child, that no matter what long lived races knew what was best for him. He didn’t believe it at all, in fact he lived his life to prove otherwise. But he couldn’t help but feel like he had to grin and bear it. What was the right thing to say?

He felt Laios place a hand on his back. He had the impulse to assure Marcille again that everything was fine. Then he thought about the many conversations he had with Laios about their communication.

When their friendship began, Kabru had always told Laios if he was confused by something he did, he should simply ask for clarification. Once that began to naturally extend to his emotional state, Kabru felt the urge to field his questions, searching, to no avail, for the right thing to say around him. Because ultimately Laios had no motive other than to know him, and that revelation didn’t come until much later on, when they had already spent countless hours familiarizing themselves with the terrain of their bodies. In time he grew accustomed to Laios’ probing, indelicately phrased questions, like he grew accustomed to his head between his legs. They became eachother’s relief before either of them realized it: a safe, accepting body to retreat into each night, free from public scrutiny or hidden agendas. Honesty came more easily after that, though their positions necessitated a certain level of tact that could not be completely taken away, even in the most intimate conversations. At least that was true for Kabru, anyway.

“Thank you for your apology, Marcille,” Kabru said, unable to stop the pleasantries. How long had he known her? At least 25 years? Why was this so difficult? She helped raise his kids. She had been there for everything. From his morning sickness, his labor, Makalu’s first steps, his first loose tooth, his tantrums, his knee scrapes, his games, his jokes. She had seen everything, and would continue to, after his own life was over. She could handle Kabru’s real thoughts.

“Sometimes, I feel like I failed him,” Kabru said finally. It felt like swallowing a shard of glass to admit it, but he did.

“Why do you feel that way?” she asked, concern clear in her voice.

“I have taught him nothing and he ignores my advice at every turn,”

“Kabru, that isn’t true at all,“ Laios said, completely baffled.

“He doesn’t listen to his history tutor. He has no interest in learning about politics. I couldn’t teach him how to fight, I had to outsource that as well. He doesn’t tell me about his friends. He avoids eating with us. He hates living here, and I cannot give him the mundane happiness of a normal childhood,”

“Is that really how you feel?” Marcille asked in disbelief. “That he hates living here? With us?”

“Well, obviously it’s more complicated than that. I know he doesn’t hate it. I also understand that being a teenager is difficult. He’s going to push against any rules we set. He just hates what I- what we have come to represent in his mind,”

“But Kabru,” Laios said, and they all shared a look that suggested again, they were in on something Kabru was not privy to.

“What?”

“It’s just that, I never thought that you could ever be this wrong about anything,”

“It’s true. Makalu wants to explore dungeons. But he wants to do it with your blessing. It’s precisely because he cares so deeply about what you think that he’s going to all this trouble to avoid you,”

No one made a move to disagree with her.

“Did he tell you that?”

“Of course he didn’t,” Marcile scoffed. “He’s a teenager. He’s not gonna tell me anything. But it’s not that difficult to figure out,”

Kabru sighed. He understood what she was saying, and her opinion mattered to him greatly, but he couldn’t help but feel skeptical. And perhaps his ego was wounded at the suggestion that she knew this about their son, and he didn’t.
Still, he couldn’t ignore the logic in her reasoning.

“Yes, well. You make a compelling point Marcille, and I’d like nothing more than to hear more of your thoughts, but I’m afraid I sense a migraine coming on and I think it would be best if we table this discussion for later,” he found himself slipping into his business-like tone again. He couldn’t help it. It felt like going into battle naked without it, and he already needed to lick his wounds.

Marcille looked at Falin. She smiled and placed her other hand on top of hers.

“Okay. Tomorrow then,” she said, clearly a bit deflated by his passive rejection.

“Really, Marcille,” he said, trying to sound warm and sincere. “I want to. Thank you. I appreciate your honesty. I always do,”

It seemed to help a little, and she smiled, though it was tired and strained.

“You aren’t failing him, Kabru,” she said.

A beat of silence passed. Then Laios cleared his throat.

“Well I don’t know about everyone else but, I am starving,”

They ate together in relative harmony after that, being careful to avoid the void Makalu had created with his absence.

After Kabru and Laios had put Pumori to bed and read her a story, they slinked back into their bedroom.

Kabru found himself pressed against Laios’ front as he changed. He lowered his hands so that Laios could finish undressing him himself.

“I was worried sick about you,” he said, kissing his neck.

Kabru sighed, letting himself feel the coarseness of his beard, the softness of his lips.

“Shall I heal you then?”

Laios’ laugh was rough. His tunic slipped off of him. His hand wrapped around his waist. He wanted to lose himself in his touch, let him fuck the rest of his worries away, but he couldn’t. He felt residual anger still lingering in him. He felt restless, faced with a problem he didn’t know how to solve.

“This type of sickness is incurable. Many have tried to, and failed,” Laios joked.

There was actually a bit of truth to that, considering all the women everyone had tried to set Laios up with. Including Kabru himself. He should have laughed. It was funny, but he couldn’t muster a smile.

“Kabru,” he said, suddenly serious. “Can we finish our discussion from earlier?”

“I dunno, Laios,” he feared that this would result in a discussion that couldn’t be resolved. He hated admitting that, more than anything. Normally, he would discuss it into the ground.

“I’ll start. I didn’t like how this morning went,”

Kabru bit back any unhelpful quips he had in response to that understatement.

“I need to apologize to you. When Makalu came to me, I knew he was lying. But I guess- I dunno. I thought that if I went along with it, he would realize on his own what he did was wrong. When I asked him about it this morning, I thought he would fess up to you, not admit that he had gone to the dungeon,”

“It makes me frustrated when you don’t tell me these things. It makes me feel…” Kabru struggled to find the right word.

Intimidating. Unreasonable. Childish.

“Like an oversight,” he said finally.

“I’m sorry,”

“I know,”

Laios rubbed his shoulders, apologetically.

“Why did you think he would tell me the truth?”

“I don’t know. Am I too optimistic?”

“No. Well, you do tend to think people are better than they are. And sometimes, you still think of Makalu as an 8 year old digging for worms in the mud. You forget that his feelings can be contradictory and intense, and complicated,”

Kabru played with the fabric of Laios’ tunic as he spoke.

“It’s not that I think people are better than they are, I’m just too busy thinking about what I should be doing to really focus on anyone else. It’s why I have you,”

Kabru sort of disagreed with that. Laios could pick up details about people all the time, but their importance varied greatly, and his ability to make assumptions based on what he saw was abysmal.

“But that’s different,” he continued, “That’s not our boy. I know he’s been angry lately. He always had such big feelings. It’s surprising how easily he can express them,”

Kabru’s hand stopped moving.

“Are you saying we don’t express our feelings?”

The question stuck in the air for a moment. He swore he heard Laios gulp. He moved his hands from his shoulders.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. Though, sometimes you…”

“I, what?”

“You tend to… well… act a bit… passive aggressive?” Laios cringed as he spoke.

“Is that a statement or a question?”

“A statement?”

Kabru took a deep breath.

“In this situation, I don’t really know how I should have acted differently,”

“I upset you. I see you’re frustrated. I’m not trying to criticize you,”

“It’s okay, Laios,”

“I’m just worried about your relationship,”

“What do you mean? You’re worried?”

Kabru’s heart pounded. This was news to him.

“You don’t talk to each other like you used to. Maybe that’s normal. It’s hard for me to know, since I was never close with my parents,”

He rarely talked about his parents anymore. Their relationship had lightened in recent years, the birth of grandchildren certainly helped.

“How did we used to talk?” he asked softly.

Laios took his hand in his, tracing it with his thumb.

“You have a very specific way of joking around. He’ll whisper something to you, and you’ll tell him to stop even though you’re laughing. Then, you’ll say something back, and Makalu’s eyes will bulge and his own laugh will scare him,”

Laios had never told him that before. He laughed, a little deliriously.

“Oh really?”

“Tell me where it hurts?” Laios prodded again gently, like he had in the dining room.

“I really don’t know what you mean, dear,”

He cupped his face, examining it. Then he ran his hands over his shoulders.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for the wound myself,”

“Fine, fine! Okay. I’ll play along. Here. It’s here,” he pointed to his chest.

“Ah,” he said. “Of course!”

Laios placed his hand over Kabru’s chest and closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply, and Kabru found himself doing the same. They shared a few breaths together. This part of his little ritual was always hard for Kabru. The honesty Laios expected from him was hard.

“I feel silly,” he said, glancing away.

“If you don’t tell me now, I’m never letting you fill out another request form,” Laios threatened. It was empty, he knew.

“Alright, okay! I’m scared,”

Kabru felt like he might as well have fallen on his own sword.

“Of what?”

“Of something happening to Makalu. When he leaves,”

“Where’s he going?” Laios cocked his head to the side.

Kabru suppressed the urge to slam his head against the wall.

“I mean, nowhere now! But eventually, he’ll want to leave. He wants to explore dungeons! Dungeons with monsters! People! Dead animals! Anything!”

Frustration and irritation began to pour out of him. Laios didn’t seem to care or notice.

“Oh that? That’s what you’re worried about?” he asked, politely confused.

“Yes!” Kabru groaned, his hands in his hair.

Laios wrapped his arms around him tightly, laughing. Kabru squawked in confusion.

“Do you remember the first time I told you I love you?”

“Yes? I’m not that old,” he responded, though he had no idea where he was going with this.

“Do you know why I told you?” Laios was a little too happy recalling this otherwise depressing memory.

“Because I said that we should stop having sex?” Kabru blinked, irritated that he changed the subject, and irritated at himself for wanting to keep listening.

“There was a little more to it than that,” he sing songed, like a teacher quizzing his student.

“I said that we should stop because I felt that my position was being compromised,” he supplied.

“Well yes, but it was also the first time you admitted to me that you were scared,”

Kabru felt his throat close up. He had no idea why Laios was bringing this up, but recalling the memory from two decades ago, when they were just two kids trying to make the best of their situation, no, trying to make the world bend to their will, made him appreciate how lucky they were now.

“I had thought of you as a person who always knew what to do. I gravitated towards you because you just seemed so sure of everything. You had all the answers,”

“This isn’t new,” Kabru murmured.

Laios ignored him and continued.

“But when you admitted that you were scared, as you sat completely naked at the edge of my bed, it surprised me, but all I felt was the need to protect you. I never would have thought that’s how you felt on my own,”

His confession had also surprised Kabru at the time. It had changed everything and nothing, and he never asked him why he had done it then, at seemingly the worst possible moment. The new information was shocking but endearing, and he suddenly felt like he might burst into tears.

“I think you might be romanticizing it a bit,” his voice sounded hoarse. “I was an opportunist,”

Laios smiled.

“But you liked me, didn’t you?” he leaned in close, pouting.

“Yeah, yeah,” a couple of tears escaped him. “What’s your point?”

“I think you get scared when something’s out of your control. Your love is the one thing you can’t control,” he explained, like it was written on his forehead.

Kabru was stunned to silence.

“You have control over everything else. You can tell him what to wear, what to study, when to go to bed, what to eat. But your love? It controls you,”

Kabru sucked in a breath. He somehow felt proud of him, vindicated, and affronted all at the same time.

“I don’t think that’s exactly right,”

“But you love people don’t you? You love how they speak, how they interact. You notice things I never would. You became my advisor because you love it didn’t you?”

“Any other observations about me you’d like to share?” Kabru asked, baffled.

“You’re looking at me like you want to kiss me, but your voice sounds upset. Are you okay?” he asked, his informative tone dropping for a quietly concerned one.

“I’m just not sure how our conversation about our son has somehow devolved into this. I feel a little caught off guard,”

“Right. Well… I think we should let him go. I haven’t seen him that happy in months,”

There it was. What Kabru knew, but had remained unsaid.

“Do you think it makes me happy to deny him?” Kabru asked.

Laios suddenly felt far away, adrift in their shared living space. Kabru had his own room for appearances, but anyone who knew him would not be fooled by it. He never slept well there.

“What? No, of course not,”

“Do you think I want control because I like it?”

Laios was quiet. Kabru really tried not to make him feel guilty for not always understanding how he felt, but he felt the words coming anyway, like he knew they would, if they had had this conversation.

“I do what I can, to protect us from chaos. Do you want to destroy everything we built together? It can happen. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it throughout history, I’ve seen it before my eyes,”

Laios was quiet for several minutes, processing. When he spoke up, he stared at the ground in front of him.

“I understand now. I see why you’re hurting. I’m sorry,”

Kabru closed his eyes and sighed.

“It’s okay, Laios. I really, really don’t mind. I want to do this. I feel like it’s truly my calling. All I’m asking for is more time,”

Laios took his hands in his.

“No, I don’t think that’s it,”

Kabru opened his mouth to protest.

“You’re the most interesting, hard working person I have ever known,”

Kabru scoffed. Laios gripped his arm.

“You never make anyone feel stupid for not knowing something. You forget to brush your teeth, but can remember the names of every Canary captain from the past 500 years,”

“It’s not that many. They’re elves, remember?”

“You never get angry when Pumori throws her food at you or when Makalu hides your slippers. You say you’re not a drinker but you kiss me a lot more after a few glasses of wine,”

“Aren’t you also drinking when that happens?”

“Despite the fact that everyone loves you,”

“Forgot about Rin, obviously,” Kabru muttered.

“Despite that,” he continued, “You spend each night focusing on what you haven’t done, on what’s gone wrong, on what you can’t fix,”

Kabru was quiet.

“You’re the father of my kids, and the reason I’m still alive. He’ll always remember you for what you did, not what you didn’t,”

Ah. There is was. Kabru’s heart, decimated. Completely leveled. His tear ducts, activated.

Laios has actually told him that last bit at least a thousand times, but it always made Kabru feel like running laps around the palace, or hell, around Melini.

“Right. It’s definitely not because you think I look like a bug right?” He said, attempting to look away.

“I still don’t understand why that’s a bad thing! It’s cool!”

Laios pulled him into a hug, and Kabru breathed deeply. He cried. Laios rubbed his back as he did, kissing his shoulder. His naked skin against Laios’ velvet made him feel like a child in swaddling clothes.

“Hm. You’re a pretty crier. Your face hardly changes or wrinkles,”

“Stop it. I’m washed up,”

Kabru parted from him so that he could lean up and kiss him. He felt the heaviness of desire settle in his stomach, and he had a feeling Laios could smell it on him. He needed Laios to fling him onto their bed like a wet rag. He needed to be wrung out in his hands.

Laios’ hands found his waist. Most people would say that he had fully recovered from his pregnancy with Pumori, and perhaps her birth had transformed so much of the status quo in their lives that he saw it manifest in him physically. He exercised regularly and ate well, but he couldn’t help but feel like fat rested on his hips and thighs differently. He guessed that it had something to do with how old he was when he had her, that his metabolism had been affected long term. The first time they had sex again postpartum, Kabru felt so self conscious even Laios noticed he had been acting differently. Since then Laios had the habit of pelting him with compliments while they had sex, and watching to see what would get the best reaction.

Kabru found himself undoing Laios’ tunic with a distressing lack of restraint, the slow rise and fall of his chest tricking him into thinking he was doing it with a calm certainty. When it hit the ground, they undid their own pants and underwear, sneaking glances at eachother. Kabru crawled onto their bed, checking over his shoulder to see if Laios was following. He stood watching Kabru instead, mute and naked, a newborn with its umbilical cord around its throat.

“Come here,” Kabru made a point of enunciating each word.

Laios knelt, kissing the top of Kabru’s foot, then his ankle, then his calf. He sighed, watching him kiss his way up his legs as he massaged the muscle under his finger tips. Kabru wrapped his leg around him coily, in an effort to bring him onto the bed with him. Laios got the message but ignored it, opting to lather more open mouthed kisses on his thighs and hips. Once Kabru’s breath had become labored, he obeyed, climbing onto the bed. He kissed up his stomach and across his chest wetly before cupping Kabru’s breast in his hand. He was butter melting in his palm.

Laios moaned, hovering over Kabru’s body, like he was afraid to crush him even though he knew Kabru wanted him too. In fact, there had been days when he craved it so badly during his pregnancies that tears of frustration bubbled their way out of him as they fucked in every other conceivable way.

Now that he wasn’t a hormonal mess, Kabru couldn’t deny that the hesitancy was endearing, or that he felt turned on by the fact that Laios saw him as something worth protecting. To his credit, he was a lot bigger than he used to be, and would often joke about how he was eating for two, like Kabru. Kabru always thought it suited him, made him look as sweet as he was on the inside, and provided excellent padding for everything he liked to do to him. He was never going to complain about his ample chest and stomach if it felt so good to be pressed against it.

He felt his ears burn, cradling Laios’ head and dragging his nails through his scalp. He whined against his skin, before breaking from him with a wet pop. He panted open mouthed, his tongue pink and so fuckable.

“Need to taste you,” he panted, and Kabru felt himself grin with delight at his disheavelment.

“Please,” Laios urged him, as if Kabru was in the habit of denying him.

Kabru brought his finger down between his legs, pressing it inside himself. He dragged it in and out a few times, letting Laios watch him. Then he brought it up to Laios lips. He sucked on it without hesitation, letting Kabru slide it in and out of his mouth.

“More?” Kabru asked, scratching his beard as he pulled his finger out.

Laios nodded.

“I like watching you,” he sighed.

Kabru repeated the action with two fingers. This time he lingered inside a bit longer, curling his finger upwards and stimulating himself. Laios was silent save for his breathing. Kabru felt himself moving to the rhythm of his chest expanding and contracting.

Finally he pulled the fingers out and brought them to Laios’ lips. He whined and held Kabru’s wrist as he thrust into his mouth.

“You always take it so well don’t you?”

Laios nodded, his tongue swirling around his fingers.

“Would you be good and fuck me now?”

Laios moaned around his fingers but shook his head.

“And why not?” Kabru purred.

“I wanna taste all of you,” Laios replied.

Kabru paused.

Laios had confessed multiple times that he fantasized about eating Kabru. Literally. He had even considered the details of how he would cook him, and if he should be served with white or red wine, and at what time of year. Kabru was horrified obviously, but he supposed if he was going to be eaten, at least he’d feed someone he loved, and at least he’d be cooked to perfection.

“I meant like cunnilingus,” Laios corrected.

Kabru sighed in relief, nodding as Laios kissed down his stomach and thighs. He grabbed a thick pillow for his hips before settling down on his back.

He felt the first kiss of his lips against him. The tension that had knotted itself within him began to unspool itself. He rested them there for a moment, letting Kabru’s body relax. Then his lips parted, his tongue making a slow, exploratory swipe upward. Kabru shuddered. He continued for a few seconds before laying his tongue flat against him while his hand rubbed small, sure circles on his mons pubis. (Most people didn’t know that you can stimulate the clitoris that way, since it was really a very large organ with 18 parts, most of them hidden by the naked eye.)

With a few more strokes of his tongue and a finger gently inserted inside him and curled sweetly upwards towards the epicenter of his pleasure, he was trembling. He tugged on Laios’ hair and he moaned. He needed his tongue on his hardness, rhythmic and hot. His hips twitched against his mouth and Laios obligingly flattened his tongue for him to rutt against. When he grew tired, Laios finally, mercifully, swiped his tongue against the head. Kabru whined. Laios teased him again, his tongue going anywhere but the place he needed it. He hummed in frustration. Laios curled his finger and Kabru’s toes curled.

His tongue swiped him again, a spark so potent he felt his voice crack. A slow, tantalizing draw of the finger inside him. Another flutter of his tongue, his eyelashes. Kabru stared down at him, willing him to look up. When he did, Kabru moaned. His tongue circled him again and again until he came, his thighs squeezed like a vice around Laios’ willing head. Kabru panted in relief. Laios wiped his face with a handkerchief before moving up to kiss him again.

Without missing a beat, his hips twitched upwards towards the warmth of Laios’ cock. Laios tried extracting himself, but Kabru followed him, spitting on his hand to wrap his fingers around him. He was so big it still made him dizzy.

Kabru hummed, watching his stomach and chest jiggle as he pumped him. He was always so fun to watch, so reactive and open and so unlike himself. His cock leaked onto his hand and he had the urge to lick it off, but he didn’t, opting to squeeze the tip instead and watch Laios pant and squirm.

“Okay, come here, let’s go, c’mon,” he said, like he was trying to get a puppy to come to him.

Laios did as he was told, bringing himself closer, lining himself up. They usually took more time to prepare him, but Kabru felt gaping, and in dire need to be filled again.

“Are you sure? You just…”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Kabru chanted, spreading his legs wider, beckoning him closer.

He pressed the tip inside, and Kabru felt himself begin to melt, parts of him oozing all over their sheets. Laios’ hand found his hip, a wonderful pressure, keeping his body firmly in place for him.

It was a little tight, Kabru had to admit, but the friction was so sweet when he pulled out, he cried out pathetically.

“Please, do that again,”

Laios did as he was told.

“Again,” he pleaded.

“You’re so-,” Laios voice cut off on a moan when Kabru blinked up at him.

“What?” he panted, trying not to smile.

“So, um, you feel so…”

He stared down at where they were connected.

“So, what?” Kabru prompted, bringing his hand down to rub his own hardness. Laios stared, panting.

“You’re so tight. You’re everywhere. You’re squeezing my heart. My brain. You’re pumping my blood, keeping me alive,”

Kabru moaned, hardly able to contain his excited grin.

“So you’re saying you need me or you’ll die?”

It was sweet. Strangely innocent. Extremely erotic.

Kabru placed a hand on their headboard. Sometimes when they had sex their conversations didn’t even register as dirty talk, but that’s what it would certainly sound like from an outsider’s perspective. Or conversely, Kabru found the most mundane conversations turned him on, like Laios asking him to color code a page of heavy text so that he could read it more easily. Something about the phallic shape of the pens, maybe. He had tried not to psychoanalyze it too much. After the fact, anyway. During was part of the fun.

“Yeah, I need you like I need food or water. I need to be inside you or my heart will stop. My organs will shut down,”

“It’s all you wanna do? It’s all your body needs?”

“Yeah, when I fill you up, you’re feeding me,”

“How am I, ahh, feeding you?”

“You give me the energy to keep living. You never give me enough. I need it, nngh. Give it to me please,”

“How can I give it to you?”

“Let me, hmm, let me fill you. Everything my body makes is for you. Let me give it to you,”

“Do it then. Fill me up until I’m dripping. Then I’m gonna make you lick out what’s left, like the dog you are,”

Laios put his full weight on him, making his cock fuck him deeper. Kabru gasped, wrapping his arms around his back. Laios bit at his neck as he mumbled.

“Fill him. Help him,”

“I’m so empty, only you can help me,”

The words came out with the confidence and refinement of an orchestral conductor, his tongue the baton, and Laios the strings being plucked. What a ridiculous, filthy song they made together.

“Come inside me,”

Laios moaned his agreement. He sat up abruptly, and Kabru, awoken from his bliss, protested.

“I’m sorry, I-I need to look at you,” he pleaded, and Kabru, feeling sorry, relented.

“Don’t worry. It’s okay. I’m here,” Laios whispered, kissing his cheeks and neck.
He took Kabru’s legs and put them over his shoulders. Thank god he did yoga. He entered him again, pressing deeper inside. Kabru covered his mouth. Laios’ face was completely flushed. He kissed Kabru’s leg, biting into the flesh.

Laios’ sweat dripped from his forehead and onto Kabru’s. He planted his arms on either side of Kabru’s face. He felt like he was being bent in half. His back protested. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to drain the blood from his face.

“It’s okay. I’ll protect you,” Laios met his eyes, pupils blown. Kabru brought his hand down to touch himself.

For a moment he saw himself outside his body, like Laios was seeing him- beautiful, vulnerable, erotic, enthralling. He wondered if he really looked like that. He wondered what he tasted like to him, how it felt to be inside him. Is that what allowed him to be so routinely disarming? What secrets about himself had he given away unknowingly?

Kabru heard his name being called, and he came rushing back to himself, to the cock seeking life inside him, begging for release.

He didn’t wail or groan before he came again. He was strangely quiet and strangled. It felt dirtier that way somehow, his hips thrusting madly, Laios’ irises black, watching him.

Laios however, feeling the sudden grip on his cock, and watching the irresistible way Kabru moved his body, moaned uncontrollably.

“Save me,” Kabru managed to say quietly, “Please.”

His exhausted plea is what did Laios in, for some reason. Kabru moaned as he felt it, wishing he could hug Laios from this position, as if he could squeeze more out if he wrapped his whole body around him.

He almost wanted to cry again as Laios pulled out of him, feeling like he was being betrayed somehow.

“Let me clean you out,” Laios sighed dreamily, his head going between Kabru’s thighs.

Kabru sensed he wouldn’t be able to summon language for a good minute and gave him a weak nod. Laios always seemed to be imbued with energy after sex, like what he was raised to believe a succubus was. Real succubi, of course, were a lot less serviceable.

When Laios’ tongue plunged inside him he sighed quietly, appreciating the overstimulation. His pussy was still throbbing. Laios closed his eyes in a way that made the action look non-sexual, like he was enjoying an ice cream cone on a hot day instead of the taste of his own come.

When he came back up, his beard and lips were shiny. He wanted to kiss him badly, but he had to draw the line somewhere.

Laios got up to get something to really clean them with. Kabru laid there for a second, focusing on his breathing as the world remained soft and distant. He liked this part the most, he thought, letting his eyes slip closed, not moving his body in the slightest from where Laios left it. He’d be a painting, a statue for him to come back to and admire, at least until the sun rose and he became real again.

When he opened his eyes, Laios had laid a wet cloth across his forehead. He felt him kiss his cheek.

“Do you want me to clean you?” he asked quietly.

Kabru smiled, and reached out to pet his head.

“Yeah,”

Laios smiled back, carefully taking a damp cloth and cleaning him. His face was shiny and pink like he had just scrubbed it clean. He wanted a bath. Their sheets would be soaked in sweat like he was.

Laios disappeared again, but when he blinked he was back, new linens in his arms.

“Want me to carry you to the couch while I put these on?”

“No. Your back. I can walk,”

“I could carry Makalu until he was ten. I’ll be fine,”

“I’m a grown man,”

“He was a big kid,”

Kabru rolled his eyes and reached his arms out.

Laios grinned and lifted him. He shivered. Laios put him down on the couch, then passed him his night clothes from the dresser.

He watched as Laios put the clean sheets on their bed, the evidence of their night together folded carefully and placed in a laundry bag for a maid to boil the following morning. It had taken a while for Laios to actually give his maids things to do at first, until he realized, or rather, was forced to accept that their jobs existed so that he could do his. It had always been a source of longing for him, a constant reminder of his otherness, that he was special enough to not have to do his laundry or clean or cook. The only things that he thought to have in common with the rest of humanity, taken away. He supposed that’s why Kabru let himself be doted on, because he could see how happy it made him.

“Thank you,” Kabru said.

Laios finished laying down the sheets and came over to him smiling in his clean night clothes.

“Of course,” he replied, leaning down to peck him on the lips before reaching down to carry him back. It seemed a little ridiculous because the bed was about 5 feet away, but he let himself be held again. When Laios slid into the bed next to him, Kabru pressed his face to his chest, wrapping his arms around him. Laios’ hand combed through his hair.

“Thank you,” Kabru said again, feeling indebted somehow.

“Shhh,” Laios whispered. “I love you,”

For whatever reason, they rarely said that to each other. Probably because most days, it felt a little redundant. Today had been a slow cooker for Laios’ affection, and Kabru hadn’t eaten all day. Tonight, Laios watched him suck it all off the bone, and lick his fingers.

“I love you too,” he said, and closed his eyes for a moment.

He opened them again, face still pressed to his skin.

“What was he doing? When you went to check on him?”

“Oh. He was memorizing a spell. Not sure which one,”

“I can handle his hatred for now. I know he’ll understand when he’s older, but it feels,”

“It hurts doesn’t it?”

“He can’t help it. It isn’t on purpose,”

“I know but… let me lick your wounds,”

“Okay… but how does that solve our problem?”

“It doesn’t I guess. Does every problem need to be fixed?”

“Yes. I just decided actually. Melini will be a problem-free country if I have anything to do with it,”

“Oh wow. We have our work cut out for us then,”

“I’m tired,”

“Then sleep,”

“I can’t. Not like this. Not with him alone in his room practicing spells and brooding like Marcille when I miss book club,”

Laios sighed.

“Okay. Can I make a suggestion?”

“Sure,”

“Bring him a snack? He skipped dinner,”

Kabru leaned in and kissed him to stop himself from saying anything embarrassing.

Chapter Text

Luckily for Kabru, one of the cooks had still been awake having a drink with the dishwasher before going to bed. Kabru had suspected there had been a flirtation between them for a while, so as much as he felt bad for interrupting, he looked forward to bringing the evidence to Laios later, an ardent denier of any sort of romance between them. Regardless, when the cook heard Kabru’s request, she smiled knowingly, chiding him for letting the prince have dessert without having his dinner first.

When he arrived at Makalu’s room, he saw that his light was still on. He took a deep breath and knocked, holding the plate in one hand.

Makalu cracked the door open. He had his glasses on, which meant he was reading or writing. When he realized who it was, he frowned. Kabru felt like a solicitor in his own home.

“What do you want?” he asked quietly.

“You’re up late. Can I come in?”

“I guess,” he moved out of the way to let him in. His room was overwhelming to stand in, with trinkets, empty paint jars, bones, drawings, rocks, feathers, hair tonics, bracelets, dried flowers, letters and other personal effects covering every available surface. He had several piles of books scattered throughout the room and a robust collection of house plants by the window next to his giant wardrobe. Other than that it was relatively unadorned for a prince’s room. Simple oak furniture, a large bed, a vanity, and a small couch. Oh, and of course a few rows of jarred animals on the walls.

“We missed you at dinner. I brought you a snack,”

Makalu eyed it suspiciously.

“It’s not poisoned,” Kabru tried to joke.

“I don’t want to eat in front of you.”

He tried not to take offense, but it was difficult not to.

“Okay,” Kabru shrugged, “Later then.”

He put the plate on a stack of books, since there was no other flat surface, and perched himself on the edge of the bed.

“Did you draw that?” he asked, noticing the sketch of a dog with three heads eating a…

Makalu snatched it before Kabru could tell what it was eating.

“No. Yeah. It doesn’t matter. What is it? I’m a little busy.”

“This will be quick.”

“Okay,” he crossed his arms.

“Okay,” Kabru sighed, thinking.

They sat silently for a moment.

“I don’t like how our conversation went this morning,”

…is what the best version of him would have said. Unfortunately, he wasn’t available, so what came out sounded more like:

“You can’t speak to me the way you spoke to me today. It’s impolite. Especially in front of Falin and Marcille.”

Makalu was quietly staring at the floor, like he was trying to make it evaporate beneath their feet.

“You also cannot lie to me, or the king, the way you did. It’s disrespectful.”

Makalu didn’t respond.

“Things will be a lot easier for you if you just stick to the plan we made for you, okay?”

Makalu stuck a finger in his ear, looking uninterested.

“I just hope that going forward, we can be honest with how we feel, in a non judgmental way.”

Kabru paused, waiting for a response. Makalu scratched the back of his head.

“Are you listening?”

“Uh huh. Got it. Yeah. Stick to the plan, follow orders, no lying. Yup. Anything else?” Makalu yawned loudly.

“I’m serious. I need to know you understand what you did was wrong,”

“Oh yeah. Yeah, sorry I, um,” he trailed off, “What did I do again?”

“You snuck into a dungeon and tried to lie about it!”

“Oh right, right. I am so sorry I lied. I promise I won’t do it again, sir. We good?”

“No, “we” absolutely not “good.” You aren’t taking this seriously at all.”

“Okay…Well, I don’t really know what else I’m supposed to say.”

“How am I supposed to trust you now?”

That finally gave Makalu pause.

“You lie to people all the time. Why isn’t it wrong then?”

“That’s not lying. That’s… diplomacy. It’s artful… misdirection. It’s for the good of Melini.”

“Well, that’s not very objective, is it? How am I, a person with a still developing, oh so malleable mind, to tell the difference?”

“There’s a difference between public and private life.”

“Oh. There is? Because it seems like your idea of “public” life interferes a whole lot with my “entire” life.”

“It’s for your own good, son.”

“Is it? Or is it for the good of everyone except me?”

What was Kabru even doing? Why was he here if he was just going to say everything that had already been said before? Why couldn’t he change anything? Why did he feel so helpless?

“Makalu… can you… can we… can you sit down, please?” He lowered his voice, trying to calm him down.

“You just thought you could come in here, lecture me, and I’d say I’m sorry, like I always do so you’ll get off my back, and we could go back to pretending I’m good at any of this stuff. Well, I’m sick of this.”

“I know, I know. You work so hard and I see that and I don’t recognize it enough. I just… if you could just… for one more year… I could…”

“One more year of what? Studying? Memorizing legislation? Sitting behind a desk while everyone outside is living their lives?”

“It’s not like I don’t let you go outside! You have more free time than anyone here! You see your friends every day. The world will still be there in a year.”

“Would you please just let me go?”

“No,” he tried not to snap, but it still came out a bit sharply.

“Okay,” he heard his voice tremble, “Then get out of my room, please.”

Kabru pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Listen. You’re a smart kid, so I’m going to speak to you honestly. Do you think it’s a good idea for us to let the heir to the throne put himself in danger?”

“No,” Makalu said angrily.

Kabru was surprised at the straight answer.

“Oh. So you do understand then. That’s good,” Kabru grappled for what to say next, the rebuttals he had ready in the chamber now unnecessary.

“What if I don’t want the throne?”

Kabru’s heart leapt. He had to show him that it simply wasn’t that easy of a choice, that no matter what he did, there would be consequences.

“Then how do you suppose you’ll fund your travels? What about all your belongings? No more nice clothes, balanced meals, private bathrooms, no one to clean up after you, no access to archival texts, no bodyguards. Are you really sure you want that? This isn’t a decision you should make on impulse.”

Even before he was finished speaking the words felt like empty threats, like the lies corrupt tax collectors use to prey on the vulnerable. People always felt a sure loss was safer than a risky gain, so they could line their pockets with the fears of the weak without much effort. But he knew his son would not be persuaded so easily.

“Look, I know Papa almost got killed when I was ten.”

Kabru blinked, wondering if he had heard him correctly.

“What?” he asked, feeling stupid and slow, looking up at him from where he still sat.

“And I know that you’re only scared because of what happened to you as a kid. You don’t want to lose your family again,” Makalu said haughtily, like the words had been on the tip of his tongue for years.

Had he and Laios started a study group where Kabru was the subject matter?

“Makalu, you really shouldn’t talk about such serious matters so lightly,”

“Do you really think that little of me, Baba? I don’t take it lightly at all. What happened was a tragedy. You’re living proof of that.”

Kabru was silent for a moment, calculating. What did Makalu have to gain from saying this? Was he just trying to hurt him because he felt hurt? Was this simply teenage rebellion? Was he fortified against this strategy of attack? What happened to the sweet boy who used to hang off his shoulders?

“I think… you’re too absorbed in your own pain to see anything else clearly.”

“My own pain?” Kabru almost laughed.

“I mean… losing Dadi.”

Kabru’s birth mother. When was the last time he had thought about her? He couldn’t remember if it had been months or minutes. Kabru felt his hands tremble as he stood. How many times had he wished he could ask her what to do?

“The long lived races will jump at the chance to take control of this land again, just to prove that we are incapable. Our reign could be a blink to them. Do you want to prove them right?”

“I knew you’d say that. You don’t care about me, you only care about the rest of humanity. Or maybe, you care more about the people who are already dead.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.”

“Six months.”

“What?”

“I’ll give you six months, then I’m leaving,”

Kabru felt like a blood vessel had burst in his skull.

“This is not a negotiation,” he said angrily, rising to his feet.

“Everything is a negotiation. You said that to me yesterday.”

“This is a completely different context!” Kabru huffed and massaged his temples.

“I always thought that maybe, if I could prove to you I was ready, you’d finally listen to me, but nothing I do is good enough.”

“Makalu, I don’t think that.”

“But that’s why you want me to stay right? Because I need remedial everything. I flunked history. I have awful penmanship. I think politics are annoying. My elvish is shitty. The only thing I have going for me is my illusion magic, but what good can that do at court?”

“No one is grading you. You can’t flunk anything,” Kabru said, feeling desperate. His elvish was actually really good, but he didn’t feel like that was the right time to say so.

Makalu ignored him, continuing on.

“At least you have a spare now. I can already tell she’s smarter than me.”

“You are smart,” Kabru urged, touching his shoulder, his other hand gripping his own chest, “I’m the one who failed you. This is my fault.”

Makalu stared at him, utterly lost.

“What?” he scoffed, “You think Papa knows how to help me with that stuff?”

They both paused, letting the joke hang in the air between them for a moment, or rather, allowing it to cut through their hurt and anguish long enough for Kabru to smile, and let out a deep, exasperated laugh. Makalu smiled, despite it all, reveling in his ability to make his father laugh against his will.

“Exactly,” he said, looking at the wall, still smiling. As Kabru’s laughter waned, he spoke again.

“I just want to make something of myself.”

Kabru wanted to reassure him that all he needed to be was his son, and that was enough for him. But was it? Would either of them be satisfied with that? They were still again, like the air after an earthquake, a quiet sense of relief burdened by the threat of any aftershocks. Kabru realized Makalu’s eyes had been fixed on a letter pinned to the wall, too far away for him to read.

“Do you really think you could be ready in six months?”

“I could be ready tomorrow. Those six months are for your benefit.”

Kabru sighed.

“We need to talk about it with everyone,” he sighed again. It felt like an admission of defeat.

“Okay,” he said, hardly able to contain his hopeful smile, ignorant to his father’s turmoil.

Makalu picked up the plate off of the stack of books.

“Wanna share?” he asked.

Kabru shook his head.

“No, no, it’s yours. I ate already.”

“C’mon, just a bite,” he sat next to him on the bed, “It’s too much for one person.”

“Oh, alright,” he relented. Images of Makalu begging for a pet, a piece of candy, and a toy sword came to his mind. He longed for when his desires were so concrete and achievable.

The mango split easily for Makalu’s spoon. It sat in the center of the plate, as golden and soft as an egg yolk, the white rice surrounding it. When he handed the spoon to Kabru, he mimicked what he had done, scooping the fruit and watching the sweet milk run over it. As soon as he put it in his mouth, the spoon almost slipped out of his hand, for he was so distracted by the taste that he hadn’t noticed the fresh tears dripping down his face, or his son’s arm wrapped around his shoulders.

————————-

He carried the empty bowl down to the kitchen with him. He could have left it out for the maids to collect in the morning, probably would have done that in any other circumstance, but his body seemed to move on its own back through the corridor.

As he turned the corner, he saw Falin there, as if patiently waiting for him.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hello.”

“I was just going outside for a walk,” she smiled, idly swinging her drawstring bag that carried her pipe and tobacco.

“I was just…” he looked down at the bowl in his hands, stray rice clinging to the inside.

“Midnight snack?” her teeth shone in the darkness, moonlight only illuminating her mouth while her eyes remained in the shadows.

“It was for Makalu.”

“Ah,” she said, acting as if she didn’t already know, out of misplaced kindness.

“Is he still practicing?”

Kabru was irritated again, to be so clearly out of the loop. He wondered if acting as if he knew what she was talking about would help him get more answers.

“I don’t really know. Laios said he heard him earlier though.”

“Hm,” she hummed, not providing any explanation.

“Do you know what spell it was?”

“I’m sorry to do this Kabru, but I really need to go outside to clear my head. You see, well…” she fidgeted with her hands.

“Ah,” he couldn’t help but smile, “You know, I could use a walk too.”

There was a chill in the air that night, and Kabru was glad that he had put on his boots again before venturing out of their bedroom.

“So,” Kabru sighed, “How long until your next adventure?”

They made their way around the corner, to a blind spot in the patrolling familiars Marcille had put on night watch. They would only to alert Marcille if an unrecognized threat was seen. Kabru guessed that Falin had snuck out of their room to avoid an uncomfortable conversation, and knew Marcille was probably checking if she was outside. All conjecture of course.

Falin smiled and lit her small pipe.

“Living here will be my adventure for awhile, I think.”

She had stayed with them sporadically for the past 20 or so years, but never for longer than a month before heading off again.

“Lucky us.”

“Yes. We are.” she laughed.

Kabru was quiet for a moment.

“Marcille’s certainly happier when you’re around.”

Falin hummed. Kabru often didn’t know what to make of their relationship. Codependent then distant, their idiosyncrasies complementary but somehow dysfunctional at the same time.

“What’s she like? When I’m not here?”

“When you’ve been gone for a while? A little quieter. A little worn. When you’ve just left? Textbook mania. It’s a fight to get her to sleep. Wears bright silk and chiffon. I think it makes her feel powerful.”

Falin sighed.

“During exams she was the same way. The closer it got to the day, the less she took care of herself. I used to ask her to go to the baths because I didn’t like going alone at night. Really, I just wanted her to focus on herself.”

Kabru mercifully didn’t point out the obvious other reason.

“Do you ever wish you had stayed with her?”

Falin took a long drag.

“I think because she never changes, I forget how much time has passed. Until I see the kids. Then I remember the letter she sent me, panicking about baby proofing the castle.”

Kabru laughed, despite his irritation at the fact that she had dodged his question again. Marcille had been very helpful during Pumori’s birth, if not a little overbearing, but during Makalu’s she’d cast a spell to ease his pain and immediately passed out in the birthing chamber from stress.

“I feel a little indebted to you.”

“You’ve said this before.”

They had never been very close, but he always liked their conversations. While her brother clumsily tried to relate to others through mutual interests, Falin did it by being useful to them, and Kabru guessed that guilt consumed her otherwise. She was empathetic and often mistaken for airheaded, but Kabru knew better. She was as brutal and strange as you would expect someone with her life to be, having dragon DNA still lingering in her body, and traveling alone as a woman for as long as she had. It took a lot of strength to still be kind, unlike Kabru, who had spent his whole life trying to hide the cynicism that somehow always managed to fight its way out of him.

“You’re braver than I ever was.”

Kabru did his best not to let his face betray his emotions. He didn’t feel brave at all. He wasn’t even brave enough to ask her what he really wanted to know.

“You have a lot to be proud of.”

Kabru swallowed. Why was she saying all of this to him?

“Hey, I’m not charging you rent or anything. There’s no need to flatter me.”

He needed to lighten the mood quickly, feeling too weak and too cold for this conversation.

“Besides… how could you be indebted to me when you handle my son so much better?”

Falin looked at him, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh c’mon. You really haven’t noticed how he hangs off your every word? How he used to follow you around like a lost duckling?”

“He treats me like everyone else does, I think.”

“He tries to dress like you,” Kabru scoffed.

Falin laughed like she wasn’t sure if she should be.

“You were there this morning weren’t you?”

That gave Falin pause.

“I think everyone was just tired,” she laughed nervously.

“Hm. Very diplomatic. Perhaps you do belong here,” he smiled, grimly.

“I have to earn my keep somehow.”

A small silence stretched between them. Finally, Kabru took the plunge.

“What did you tell him this morning?”

“Oh that? I told him about how I felt when Laios left home.”

Kabru waited for her to explain. When she didn’t, he prompted her.

“What did you feel?”

“Sad. Like it was my fault. Lonely.”

Normal childhood stuff, Kabru thought.

“But I still had Mama and Papa, and the animals, at least. I always thought he was stronger than me because he didn’t mind being alone. It wasn’t until we were older that I realized we had been lonely, and it scared me to know how sad he could let himself become without even noticing. I guess I just wanted Makalu to know leaving is okay. We’ve all done it to people we love, and for every part of us that hates the pain it causes, we still go. It’s like a birth, beautiful and bloody.”

Kabru watched as she punctuated the statement with a long drag. He watched the smoke climb towards the moon. How could he compete with that? How did he ever think he stood a chance?

“Will you go with him? At least, for a little while?”

Falin shook her head, smiling.

“I already told you. I’m where I need to be.”

They stared at the moon in silence for a while.

When Kabru climbed back into bed, Laios woke up for a moment to complain about how he smelled over his shoulder, then started snoring almost immediately.

He pressed his back against Laios’ stomach. He didn’t share Falin’s ability to forgive other people, that much was obvious.

Kabru wished he had the small relief of knowing he would never have to endure Laios’ departure, because he would never be able to forgive himself for it, like she had. For he knew Laios’ death could not be stopped or predicted or controlled by his mind alone, and he feared that this helplessness would only stoke the rage he had been failing to keep at bay.

In a rush of exhilaration and fear, he almost woke Laios to tell him his realization, but knowing it wouldn’t really change anything, closed his eyes, and slept.

———————

Kabru woke up, this time, to Laios’ breath on his neck. He groaned, seeing the light already peaking through the curtain. He felt unrested and unclean, tobacco lingering in his nostrils. Sweat clung to his forehead. When he realized what time it must have been if the sun had already risen, he shot up out of bed.

“Wha…” Laios woke up midsnore, which Kabru would have laughed at, had he not already felt out of control.

He threw open his closet, since Laios usually laid something out for him, and pulled out the first thing he could find.

He heard Laios sit up.

“Kabru,” he mumbled, “It’s okay.”

“We overslept. She’s been up for hours by now.”

“Kabru, it’s okay,” he touched his hand from where he sat, “Falin will get her up.”

He threw his arms down in frustration at the lacing of his pants.

“I also… postponed our other meetings until the afternoon.”

A pang of guilt triggered by a wave of relief. He didn’t deserve a break.

“What? Why?”

“Because I- you had a rough day yesterday. I thought you should sleep in.”

He scoffed, smiling wryly.

“Why would you do that without telling me?”

“I just forgot to!” Laios urged.

Kabru sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he saw Laios was watching him, concerned. He was still naked, and the morning light shone on his skin, making his beard look so blonde it was almost transparent. Kabru sighed. One half of his mind begged the question: what’s one more surrender?

“What kind of example would we be setting? There’s certainly some mess to clean up out there,” he chided.

There was also the issue of being seen leaving Laios’ room at such a late hour. Their habit of getting up early wasn’t only because their daughter was an early riser; no, that was just a happy coincidence. It was necessity that bore the habit. It was safer from prying eyes that way, even though there were, admittedly, very few. They had certainly become more relaxed about keeping their relationship a secret from the public, except for the privileged few or fanatic court gossips. Even those who knew treated Kabru like the kids’ uncle, either not caring enough, or fearing the consequences if they did question it.

“What do you mean? You don’t even know where the broom closet is,” Laios smirked.

Kabru rolled his eyes. There were some days that he wondered how differently their lives would have turned out if they had been public about the birth. Every time a new theory about the children’s parentage started floating around, Kabru felt giddy, the further their departure from the truth the more entertaining it was. Kabru having a secret twin sister, Laios finding the children abandoned after their parents were slain by monsters, Laios being a serial playboy with countless unclaimed bastards throughout the territory, or secret couplings between Falin and Kabru. Sometimes, he felt guilty that these rumors never bothered him, because they seemed to irk everyone else for various reasons.

“And do you know where the treasurer’s office is?”

Instead of answering, Laios shrugged and laid back down, turning away from him. He left his back exposed, and the cat-like urge to pounce on his prey overrode rational thought.

“I talked to Makalu last night,” he admitted, as he crawled back into bed.

“How was it?” he asked, lifting his arm so Kabru could slip his under too.

“The words will come to me one day. Not now.”

“Okay,” he said, pressing his lips to his shoulder.

“Do you feel better?”

“Aren’t you going to ask what we talked about?”

Laios laughed a little.

“I wasn’t, no.”

“Ask me so I have an excuse to tell you.”

“Um, okay. What did you talk about?”

Kabru took a deep breath.

“He thinks that I’m acting out of fear. That it all comes down to my mother.”

Laios’ silence made him question if he heard him.

“Wow. I never thought about it that way.”

“So you agree with him,” Kabru bristled, already regretting opening the door to the discussion.

“Oh. You think he’s wrong?”

“Hm.”

“Hm?”

“I guess I just didn’t appreciate the insinuation that it was obvious.”

“Ah. Well, I wouldn’t say it’s obvious.”

Kabru wanted to say “well maybe not to you,” but held his tongue.

“Can you handle… Waiting to hand over the crown?”

Laios was perfectly still. It was clear that he hadn’t been considering all the implications of Makalu leaving. He knew Laios was getting tired, but he would only ever express it in his usual, childlike discontentment.

“I don’t really think my feelings matter right now.”

It was endlessly frustrating loving someone determined to undermine your efforts, through no fault of their own.

“I want to hear them anyway.”

Laios took a deep breath, running his fingers over Kabru’s arm.

“I think about leaving all the time. I think about getting on a boat with you and the kids, in the middle of the night. Sometimes, when it’s really hard, I think about going by myself. Living on my own island, making dolls that look like you all out of banana leaves, picking fish bones out of my teeth. I don’t want him to only do what other people think he should. I don’t want him to blindly follow orders. I think at one time, you also knew exactly how Makalu feels.”

Kabru had left his boots and tunic on the floor from last night. He imagined how they would look folded in front of him, then stuffed into a bag. He thought about Makalu’s closet standing empty, the door hanging open.

“Thank you for being honest.”

“Oh. That’s not the tone I was expecting.”

“Sorry. It’s just, I was thinking about you dying last night.”

“Oh. Is there a particular reason why?”

Kabru sighed.

“Your son brought it up.”

Laios kissed his shoulder in apology.

“Do you know what spell he’s been practicing?” he asked, changing the subject.

For whatever reason, this was more important to him than how Makalu knew about the coup. He watched Laios clam up again, still so bad at lying it was comical. Though Kabru liked to think he was just particularly good at disarming him.

“You’d better ask Marcille about it. I’m not very knowledgeable when it comes to that stuff.”

Kabru smiled, looking up at him through his eyelashes.

“Oh? That’s too bad. I was looking forward to having a nice morning with you.”

Laios’ face fell, his voice wavering.

Kabru traced a finger across his chest.

“I suppose it can’t be helped then,” he kissed his jaw, then started moving to get up.

Laios caught his hand, pulling him back.

“He wouldn’t tell me. But it sounded similar to, um, teleportation, I think.”

“Marcille has been teaching him that kind of thing?”

“No… I already asked her…”

Kabru swallowed.

Laios made a weird grimace, one that he was trying to suppress, and failing. Kabru smiled, his fingers carding through the back of Laios’ head.

“I see,” he kissed his chest, sliding a knee between his legs. He wasn’t hard yet, but he would be.

“Ha…. Right now?”

“Oh, so you’re telling me it didn’t cross your mind?”

Laios pursed his lips.

“When was the last time we had a morning to ourselves?”

“A few years ago maybe?”

Kabru kissed down his stomach. His mouth began to water.

Laios was still warm from sleep and their heavy duvet. He missed watching him wake up with his mouth already on him, his lazy thrusts and fingers in his hair. He slipped under the covers.

He grabbed his stomach. It hung over where his pants would sit. He considered how their days might stretch on like this when Laios retired, how fishbones and banana leaves only seemed satirical when peace and stillness was hard to come by.

For a moment his concentration narrowed to his king’s pleasure, performing what he knew he could excel at, and what had a finite beginning and end, before he lost all control for good.

When they finally made an appearance downstairs, they found Falin sewing a ripped pair of pants.

“The weather’s lovely today,” she smiled, like they had been in the middle of a conversation. She had a strange ability to put people at ease. What was a gift to her was hard earned by Kabru. He thought about how he agonized over Laios’ subtle anxiety around him for the first decade of their relationship.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Laios asked her, his eyebrows furrowed. Her sleep tended to be irregular since Kabru had known her.

“Oh, yes. Don’t worry. We slept fine,” she glanced at Kabru for a moment. He panicked, wondering if she would mention their field trip from the night before. While he wasn’t in the habit of keeping secrets from Laios, he didn’t want Laios to know.

“We thought it would be nice if we had a picnic for lunch today. Marcille and Makalu very graciously offered to make sandwiches.”

Laios and Kabru glanced at each other in surprise. Who’s idea was it really? Marcille tended to become obsessive over her assignments, a personality trait Kabru had the tendency to exploit, though he knew it wasn’t necessarily healthy. Her experiments had been failing, and they had just had a significant disagreement. Falin had avoided her last night too.

“Where’s Pumori?” Kabru asked.

“Helping.”

“I should check on her. My lord, would you mind going upstairs to grab your logbook from your office?”

When he entered the kitchen, Makalu and Marcille’s backs were turned. He sighed in relief when he saw Pumori watching them from the safety of her high chair. He was surprised she wasn’t fussing. She hated being left out. They didn’t notice him.

The sound of Marcille chopping vegetables with a knife made it difficult to hear them, but he sensed that their conversation had taken a serious tone. He hid behind the wall as he listened.

“I don’t know where you got the idea that we’re adversaries. I mean really, what do you think he could do to me that’s so scary?”

That it seemed, Makalu didn’t have an answer for.

Marcille sighed and continued chopping lettuce. Kabru swore she had never seen her cook a day in her life.

“It can’t be that bad living here, can it?”

More steady chopping. Makalu groaned.

“Auntie, please.”

“You only call me that when you want something,” she whined.

“Is it working?”

She paused. Kabru guessed it was to look over his work.

“How do you expect to live on your own if you can’t properly fold a napkin?”

Marcille resumed the chopping. Kabru wondered how much lettuce they could possibly need for sandwiches.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, dear,” she said, barely containing her excitement.

“Is Baba really my father?”

Kabru stared at the mop bucket they kept outside the door. Its handle was worn and discolored. It’s counterpart, the mop, was missing, probably with some other, less soiled bucket.

Marcille’s cry of pain brought him back to his body. He rounded the corner without a second thought. Makalu met his gaze, but went back to work dressing her wound with a rag.

“We need to stop the blood flow,” he said, stating the obvious, but also ignoring it. He had obviously been eavesdropping, and they knew it.

Makalu didn’t acknowledge him at all. He used a clean rag to make a makeshift bandage, applying pressure to the wound with an ease and assuredness that was unsettling for a boy his age.

“I can heal it, it’s fine,” she said, sweat pouring down her temples, “Thank you.”

“I’ll get Falin,” Makalu said, ignoring her.

Marcille and Kabru stared at each other in silence, until Pumori pulled them from it. Marcille continued to pant as Pumori babbled at him. He pulled her into his arms and pet her head. He wondered if she understood what had happened.

“How long were you standing there?” Marcille asked finally.

“Not long.”

“How could he ever think something like that…”

Despite everything she had been through, Marcille never grew out of her naivety about the world, and simple, undeniable truths often sent her spiraling if she couldn’t reconcile them. It was strange being so unshakable and so fragile at the same time.

“I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Kabru… can you please just be honest with me? Have I not seen this boy grow up? Will I not see him die?”

Kabru closed his eyes for a moment. He wanted to tell her he admired her bravery, that her dedication to their family was routinely overlooked and that he was sorry. Instead, he let out a shaky laugh.

“I think he’s tired of us.”

Falin entered the room, Laios following close behind.

They watched Falin fret over her, and Marcille leaned her head against her shoulder as she began to cast the spell. Kabru found himself averting his eyes, the ritual too intimate to be looked upon so casually. He handed Pumori to Laios, who started chirping at her without skipping a beat.

Kabru found Makalu perched against the window, leaning his head against the glass in a perfect portrait of teenage longing and angst.

“I suppose we should let the kitchen staff do their jobs next time.”

“I like cooking,” Makalu sighed, not looking up at him.

Kabru didn’t know that. Not once had he mentioned it to him before. He wondered how much he had never noticed about him, because he was too concerned with who he was supposed to be.

“You shouldn’t scare her like that. She hasn’t been sleeping well since the crop failures.”

“I didn’t think she’d hurt herself. I just wanted to see what she would say.”

“I just thought that after our conversation yesterday we had reached an understanding. I’m sorry.”

He felt himself covering his mouth with his hand. Makalu looked up at him, eyebrows drawn up in what he couldn’t tell was fear or confusion. He blinked wildly, opened his mouth to speak, then rapidly shut it. Before he could further embarrass himself, he felt something touching his leg. Pumori tugged on his robe and offered him a plate of sliced tomatoes. He took it without a second thought.

“Oh, thank you, smart girl. Did you slice these?”

She shook her head.

Marcille must have sent her out as an attempt to defuse another argument. Their penchant for eavesdropping was mutual, it seemed. It wasn’t a bad idea. Nonetheless he turned back to Makalu, ready to explain himself.

“Hey, where’s mine?” he protested.

She looked up at her brother, then back at her father. Everyone knew Makalu didn’t eat tomatoes.

“Share,” she shrugged.

Makalu laughed as she turned, waddling back into the kitchen.

Kabru smiled at him knowingly.

Makalu’s face fell for a moment, ready to be reprimanded.

“So you want to-“

“Stand up, son.”

Laios walked out of the kitchen, wringing his hands together. In his traditional fashion, he interrupted their conversation. It was rare to see him speak so tersely to their boy. Somedays, the line between friend and father was blurred completely.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually been angry with him.

“Why would you ask Marcille that question?”

Makalu shrugged, guiltily.

“Do you really not believe you are our son?”

“Ah, my lord, perhaps we should have this conversation in your study.”

“Kabru, my dear friend, forgive me, but he needs to hear this now.”

It was an old habit of Laios’ to call him that, the only remaining evidence that they were young boys together.

“You can’t let public opinion infect your mind,” he lowered his voice, “You are a Touden. No one can take that from you. You carry your baba’s blood and I am proud that you do. The secret weighs on my heart too at times, but what a beautiful, precious thing it is to have something worth protecting.”

He turned to Kabru, then suddenly remembering himself, scratched the back of his head and apologized.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I interrupted you. What were you talking about?”

Kabru stared at him in silence. Makalu stared at the ground. He supposed he should thank him. He supposed he should say something to indicate how much he loved what he said, how much he loved the way he spoke so kindly despite his anger.

“It’s not that I…” Makalu spoke up, “I just…”

“It’s okay,” Laios opened his arms for him.

Kabru watched them embrace. The ease with which Laios was able to navigate their relationship would never not make his heart seize up, and while he could never hope to be on the same wavelength, at least he could be present for it. Maybe, at least, he could stop getting in the way.

Kabru smiled, putting a tomato slice into his mouth. He picked up the logbook Laios had left on the table, and walked out of the room.

“Where are you going?” he heard a voice call after him.

“There are contingency plans that need drafting.”

Makalu came running around the corner after him. Kabru hated when he ran down the hall.

“Wait, I need to show you something.”

He pulled out two identical journals, leather bound and hand pressed.

“What is this?”

“I charmed them. You write in it like you would any letter, and it will appear in the other as you write it. So we don’t have to worry about our letters getting intercepted, or familiars traveling long distances. I was waiting to show you…”

“Marcille helped you?”

He shook his head.

“It was actually Mithrun that gave me the idea.”

Kabru laughed deliriously.

“That bastard…”

Makalu laughed in surprise. He never cursed in front of him. Kabru covered his mouth.

“You didn’t hear me say that.”

“Oh, yes I did!”

Kabru sighed, looking down at his son. He thought about his own mother, leaving her family to live in secrecy, just to protect him. He wondered if she ever felt lonely.

“So what happens when you run out of pages?”