Entry tags:
Fire Emblem 7 - lucius listens to the rain
lucius listens to the rain (Fire Emblem 7)
Genre: Gen
Word Count: ~600
PG for a few unkind words.
Summary: Cornwell on the brink of change. Lucius thinks this is the nicest place he has ever lived.
Notes: A gift for![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
raphiael, just because. ♥ With thanks to Natalie (WET NOODLES) for the beta. FFN mirror here.
On the night after Ostia's indictment, Lucius stays up with the rain. Sitting on his pillows, he listens to the familiar way the water trickles down in rivulets along the roof and taps against his window in a light midsummer spray. A watchman passes below, and the light of his torch enters dappled through the flecks of water sprayed across the glass.
The strong stone ceiling has never leaked. The fine glass windows keep out any draft. Lucius curls his knees to his chin and thinks that this is the nicest place he has ever lived, though those things are not what make it feel nice.
Across the room, through an unlocked door linking their chambers, his lord is probably sleepless too. Raymond heard the messenger as well as anyone. Although how well Raymond understands, if he considers future hardships on top of his vague fears – that remains to be seen.
Lucius himself dreads the future, unfamiliar devils ushered in by the whims of strangers. Strange places with holes in the walls, too many hungry children with savage desperation, priests who spoke love and loved power. But vague fears are what keep him awake. No images, no words – watching the wind blow droplets into streaks that curl back into droplets.
He expects Raymond to come eventually. He usually does on nights like this, even though they are old enough for it to be unseemingly.
And Raymond does come, in loud attempted stealth that wouldn't fool anyone. The walls and floors are thick enough that only Lucius hears as Raymond lifts the latch, slips through the door, and eases the door back so that the latch would keep it open for his return.
“Couldn't sleep,” Raymond whispers as he crawls onto the far side of the bed.
“I couldn't either.”
Raymond helps himself to the blanket and sits on the unoccupied pillow next to Lucius. He looks around the room as if it's a new sight, and then at Lucius. Raymond's hair is mussed from tossing and turning; Lucius self-consciously tucks a lengthening strand of blonde hair behind his ear.
“Ostia's made of rotten lying bastards,” Raymond mutters.
In truth Lucius thinks that Ostia's story could be true. Marquess Cornwell and his wife have been kind to him, but there are kind men who have done worse. To Raymond, he says, “It's a horrible accusation.”
“The truth will come out. Ostia will get the shame they deserve.”
Raymond's mouth twists in hatred. Lucius just says, “Cornwell will weather this storm, my Lord.”
To this, Raymond doesn't respond. He gives a frustrated sigh and settles into the bed, mattress heaving and feathers crunching as he tosses and pulls at the sheets until comfortable. It sags a bit right under his hip, his old bed still molded to his shape.
Lucius watches him settle in. “Will you sleep here tonight?”
Raymond grunts a yes. “If I can sleep at all.” Raymond closes his eyes in imitation of sleep, his restless muscles betraying him as he fusses with the angle of the pillow against his face and feather shafts jutting into his skin. He opens his eyes, scratching at his arm, and asks, “Aren't you going to sleep?”
“Perhaps in a moment.”
Lucius remains sitting on the pillows, watching Raymond toss and itch for several more moments. He doesn't talk, so Lucius looks out the window to pass the night. The slight rain is on the verge of passing, tapering into drops heard and not seen. They trickle down the castle just so; the rain on any other roof would never sound exactly the same. Raymond breathes the sighing of a warm breeze, and Lucius listens.
Genre: Gen
Word Count: ~600
PG for a few unkind words.
Summary: Cornwell on the brink of change. Lucius thinks this is the nicest place he has ever lived.
Notes: A gift for
raphiael, just because. ♥ With thanks to Natalie (WET NOODLES) for the beta. FFN mirror here.On the night after Ostia's indictment, Lucius stays up with the rain. Sitting on his pillows, he listens to the familiar way the water trickles down in rivulets along the roof and taps against his window in a light midsummer spray. A watchman passes below, and the light of his torch enters dappled through the flecks of water sprayed across the glass.
The strong stone ceiling has never leaked. The fine glass windows keep out any draft. Lucius curls his knees to his chin and thinks that this is the nicest place he has ever lived, though those things are not what make it feel nice.
Across the room, through an unlocked door linking their chambers, his lord is probably sleepless too. Raymond heard the messenger as well as anyone. Although how well Raymond understands, if he considers future hardships on top of his vague fears – that remains to be seen.
Lucius himself dreads the future, unfamiliar devils ushered in by the whims of strangers. Strange places with holes in the walls, too many hungry children with savage desperation, priests who spoke love and loved power. But vague fears are what keep him awake. No images, no words – watching the wind blow droplets into streaks that curl back into droplets.
He expects Raymond to come eventually. He usually does on nights like this, even though they are old enough for it to be unseemingly.
And Raymond does come, in loud attempted stealth that wouldn't fool anyone. The walls and floors are thick enough that only Lucius hears as Raymond lifts the latch, slips through the door, and eases the door back so that the latch would keep it open for his return.
“Couldn't sleep,” Raymond whispers as he crawls onto the far side of the bed.
“I couldn't either.”
Raymond helps himself to the blanket and sits on the unoccupied pillow next to Lucius. He looks around the room as if it's a new sight, and then at Lucius. Raymond's hair is mussed from tossing and turning; Lucius self-consciously tucks a lengthening strand of blonde hair behind his ear.
“Ostia's made of rotten lying bastards,” Raymond mutters.
In truth Lucius thinks that Ostia's story could be true. Marquess Cornwell and his wife have been kind to him, but there are kind men who have done worse. To Raymond, he says, “It's a horrible accusation.”
“The truth will come out. Ostia will get the shame they deserve.”
Raymond's mouth twists in hatred. Lucius just says, “Cornwell will weather this storm, my Lord.”
To this, Raymond doesn't respond. He gives a frustrated sigh and settles into the bed, mattress heaving and feathers crunching as he tosses and pulls at the sheets until comfortable. It sags a bit right under his hip, his old bed still molded to his shape.
Lucius watches him settle in. “Will you sleep here tonight?”
Raymond grunts a yes. “If I can sleep at all.” Raymond closes his eyes in imitation of sleep, his restless muscles betraying him as he fusses with the angle of the pillow against his face and feather shafts jutting into his skin. He opens his eyes, scratching at his arm, and asks, “Aren't you going to sleep?”
“Perhaps in a moment.”
Lucius remains sitting on the pillows, watching Raymond toss and itch for several more moments. He doesn't talk, so Lucius looks out the window to pass the night. The slight rain is on the verge of passing, tapering into drops heard and not seen. They trickle down the castle just so; the rain on any other roof would never sound exactly the same. Raymond breathes the sighing of a warm breeze, and Lucius listens.