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Heir Presumptive. [Ahnkuri x Kadavro]

"Which is why they need to find some alternative use for you." He looked over a mirror that was moved so that he could see his back, as well as outside the door. He needed a shave, but that could wait until the morning or when he ate. As he looked away the body flied across the reflection, though he only heard the sound and imagined someone had dropped a case. "You haven't found it necessary to import your own supplies? The nearby town certainly doesn't look like the sort to be able to supply your palace on it's own." An orange robe trimed with gold filagree was placed over his shoulders and he walked out of the room, legs and groin still armored, muscular pecs exposed over his bandanged stomach. "How could they even have been able to tell that butchered bodies days apart?" How they could even tell an hour apart from another was another matter. He had it easy when the sun shonr over the borderlands and he doubted huning parties had clocks on them at all times. "If they witnessed the deaths how did the bodies loose all their flesh? And bring me to your dining room, we're eating whatever they have ready."
 
"The palace takes imported resources so as to reduce the strain on the villagers. Some of the more wealthy commoners import resources at a cost to their own savings, but many of the villagers forage for themselves." He explained, feeling strange about having to elaborate the daily workings of Northern Wolken. He supposed his brother was so inquisitive because he hadn't visited many times. Ren rubbed at the silk material of his tunic, sure that it had been dried before opting not to change. The smell of rainwater on his body wasn't a horrid thing. He shrugged when his older brother asked the next question. "I'm no analyst of the dead. I couldn't tell you how they know." He let his eyes remain closed, feeling as though if he were relaxed physically the strain of speaking of this matter on his mentality might be diminished. "One man said the beast ripped it from the body in one slow, agonizing pull. But it was dark, so I imagine it would've been hard to tell one movement from another.. They only managed to see the true damage when the creatures had departed and they could inspect the bodies." When he heard his brother's footsteps at the open entryway of the bedroom, his eyes opened and he glanced before looking away while descending the grand staircase. The fact that his older brother's body attracted him needed to be put down. He didn't know what sensation drove him to such an immodest thought, and so he shook his head and let it pass, taking the left door adjacent to the staircase and immediately coming upon the dining room. Servants and maids were bustling around, setting places. Two maids approached them, asking what they preferred for dinner. "I don't feel pressed to consume." Beast talk aside, his newfound physical attraction to his own blood dismantled any appetite he might've had. "Tea." He concluded before glancing about the massive circular dining room table situated in the very center of the room, made from a white wood. The chairs matched in framework, but added were fine, comfortable cushions of a pretty ruby color. "Since you seem to demand the first choice, sit wherever." Ren smirked a little, as if any of the seats were better than the others. A chandelier glistened above, casting a dim, relaxing light across the room.
 
"And you were so generous that you decided to lower the amount of food you would use by sending your guards away while getting someone less well trained here. Not as if there was any threat." Garold looked over as Ren rubbed his chest, wondering why he had his eyes closed. "This your dining room?" The area was... Inefficient. What was the point for the center of the circular table? Getting the servants around couldn't be easy either. He chose the seat which seemed most warn, set back from the table slightly askew as if it was one of the few used in this lonely area. Strange that he do what the more reasonably minded did and keep a small table near the kitchen for regular occasions. Must be spoiled and fill the table with food to nibble off of. "Tea? Surely you're old enough to have something stronger." He clearly did not know his younger brothers age, nor did he show much concern to that effect.
 
Ren rolled his eyes a little when Garold implied that there wasn't any danger to be had in Northern Wolken, but decided against arguing. They started off roughly enough, and it hardly needed to escalate. He sat next to his older brother and waited but a pair of moments before tea in a glass chalice was delivered to him-- as he preferred. He drank a small stream and let his tongue monitor the bittersweet aftertaste, a contented smile on his lips. Nothing was more simple and carefree as a glass of warm tea in a minimalistic but intriguing dining room. "It is." He confirmed that it truly was the dining room. "Getting drunk around company isn't appropriate, especially when one hasn't seen his visitor in ages. Your first evening here shouldn't be too provocative." He did enjoy alcohol, but something about drinking it with others brought the opportunity that something else might happen. He didn't care to find out what. "Besides, the number of years I've been alive has never mattered to me. Each birthday passed without my notice or care to notice. Do you find yourself celebrating yours each year?" He asked, if only to make conversation that didn't involve monsters or resources or the palace or royalty.
 
The thought that Ren's lack of social contact had kept him from realize what sarcasm was went through Garold mind as. "Which is why one has something light to eat, only occasionally sips from their glass, and doesn't let the need for it to be refilled to occur." He ordered one of the servants to have something warm made that didn't end in gout, as well as to get a bowl of warm water for his feet. The pyschicians from conquered areas had warned waht too much fat did, so he tended to avoid it when he was staying in a peaceful area for the long haul. Otherwise he would jump at the chance to get some fat stored up to later burn when rations were few and the fighting was fierce. They also warned about drinking, but he took his chances with that. To a second servant he ordered him to bring a drink which was deemed to match the meal, then to bring a second of both the meal and the drink for his brother. "Eat a bit. It's good manners, unless you want the other to feel rushed while having their supp." A leg went up, the large armored boot planting itself onto front and center of Ren's seat, the toes over his groin. "Usually in the middle of the Dry Season, so I don't tend to have the time." He began to unstrap his boots further, looking his brother over the whole time.
 
Ren stopped the second servant with a raised palm and came to a compromise. "Forget the drink, I have my tea. Cut my meal in half. Give the rest to the chef-- she must be famished." The servant nodded and bowed before departing them and doing as told. He watched as an armored leg ended up in his lap for better access to take off, his eyes narrowing before looking at his older brother. "You have a point, and I'd hate for a guest to feel uncomfortable... a bit it is." Diplomacy did take effort, didn't it? "I see. But would you, if you did have the time to consider the event? Do you see value in another year's passing?" His thoughts turned back and forth between the present and the future in the moment. What would he do about everything? He couldn't lead the foraging team while his brother was here. It'd be rude to depart for an entire week without at least supplying a replacement as far as company... But who could he use? Being confined to a palace didn't offer him many interesting friends that he would trust with the task. He was more a prisoner than any who might visit the dungeon in a cell beneath the basement, because at least prisoners knew they were trapped without a doubt. Having hope could be a curse, when constant disappointment inevitably came to crush it.
 
"Why not look at it as surviving another year living?" Garold asked, the sole of his boot pressing onto Ren's groin as he undid the straps, before switching and doing the same with the other leg, then waited for the hot water, hoping he didn't get gangrene. "It's as much for other people as it is for you. Though you don't really live, do you?" After getting the other off he crossed a leg over his lap and began to massage the sole to get the circulation going. "Most people don't get the chance to die of old age. They take what they can get." He flagged somone gone, ordering a bottle of wine and a glass, Seperate from the other order, of course. Kid was young but he still should get a drink. His indigation at being refused... He would keep that bottled in if he refused again. Even the poorest of people wouldn't refuse to drink with somone else unless they had the greatest of disdain for them. If their were more people present he would have considered dueling him for the slight. During all this monolouging he stared at Ren's eyes, seldom blinking.
 
"You're right. You may see it as surviving another year, but I see it as another creeping, slow year before death by age takes me. You don't know what I'd give for a thrilling death-- something that would mark my end but echo throughout the world. To make a sudden, drastic noise in a life of silence." It was clear Ren had considered such a thing before. No, he didn't want to die. But more than fearing death, he feared a dragging, dreary life of confinement and monotony. He felt the first boot touching him in a most indiscreet fashion, but focused not on the sensation and persuaded himself that the most rational reason wasn't a reason at all-- it was simply an accident and a coincidence. It became clear that Garold wouldn't be refused, and Ren understood the notion. He would drink, but he'd need to be careful about it. Without inhibitions, these ramblings in his mind might flutter out and become real. When the bottle was within view, two glasses were poured. "I didn't think to upset you." He spoke casually, but with an apology in his tone. He wondered why etiquette and alcohol were meant to correlate.
 
"Nor will you again." There was a hint of humor in the steely voice, as if Garold had managed to enter a lupine boy into a sheep herding contest and was repeating and laying down the rules that HE was following, all the while rubbing the boy's belly. A meal arrived after a bit, as did the water. He began to tear apart a game bird, juices running over his fingers as his teeth pulled it apart, sucking the bones clean before putting them aside. After finishing his glass he looked pointedly at his brother, waiting for him to finish his before he got a refill for himself. "Why would you want to fall in flames after a life of nothing? Who will care about you if you suddenly pop up and die horricly, not even doing it out of duty for another?" Good as way as any to off him if necessary, though he seemed pliable enough already. "Get the thrill from live." Come to think of it, might be better to just leave Ren around as acting king so that he could continue his own life as it was.
 
He prodded at the food, but much preferred something less... messy. He ate a little, but couldn't get the thoughts of having his entire frame of skin ripped off by a devastatingly powerful monster that still lurked in the shadows of Northern Wolken. And would he be held responsible for not getting the creature to fall in line? He did manage to finish the wine, for whatever it was worth. His fair face was flushed with hints of coming intoxication, but he felt he could control himself. "I don't mind if no one cares, to be honest. It's more about the excitement I'd feel. I consider everyone else all the time, but in death.. I want to consider me. I wanna feel it. I don't wanna die in my sleep, wrinkles and all, having no sense of value. If I were to die by another's hand, I'd be happy. Flattered, maybe. Such emotion, aimed at me. Even if it's hatred, it's more than anyone's felt for me ever." He justified his reasoning. As the servants refilled the glasses with wine, the maids collected the plates. "How I'd love to." He replied to Garold's suggestion.
 
As Ren wasn't eating his meal Garold took the opportunity to help himself to his meal, cracking open the bones and sucking out the marrow once finished with the meat. "You looking forward to whatever comes after it?" He Looking over the servants he ordered. "Leave us. Lock the doors. Would be a horrible thing if someone heard something sensitive that needed to be covered up..." After the thinly veiled threads did there work Garold finished another glassful and refilled for himself, the grease over his lips and stubble having imprinted a bit of his chin on the glass, sitting in silence as he mused over the possibly suicidal Prince infront of him. Might have his uses. It explained why Ren had so many guards and how he wanted fewer. He slowly reached over his hand, taking Ren's throat in it if he didn't move away and out of reach. "Half to death fine?" He looked at the redding cheecks with his eyes half lidded as he wondered what to do.
 
"Comes after?" Ren's eyes glanced down at the table, and then at the floor beneath his boots, and then at his older brother. Dessert, too? He couldn't possibly consume another course. When Garold dismissed the servants and demanded that they lock the doors. He saw his brother's hand reaching toward him, but didn't know what to think of it until he felt the first finger, the middle finger, touch his neck. He swatted the hand away and jumped atop the white wood table, walking across the circle and sitting in the chair on the entirely opposite side as his older brother. His walk was quite leisurely. He wasn't scared, but he wished to make the point nonetheless. "You're not drunk already, are you?" He kicked his boots up on the table, crossing his legs to relax. "I'm not suicidal. And I will live, no matter how many guards I have to escape to do it. Makes it much easier when I have fewer, less skilled guards... which is why I requested such a thing. If I wanted to kill myself, I'd have done it in the privacy of my bedroom. With this dagger." He lifted the dagger from the hidden sheath beneath his leather pants and set it on the table. "But I won't be strangled by you. Even if it's just a point you're trying to convey. Death by you wouldn't be nearly enough to satisfy me." He pursed his lips, his eyes fixed on his brother, who was now quite a distance away.
 
Garold simply took another sip of wine after he was swatted, then watched as Ren took his sweet time in walking to the other end of the table. Hard to see how they cleaned it, though he didn't notice if there was any dust in the center, as he was watching the hips, ass, and thighs beneath the tight leather. "You're not going to give this up, are you?" As Ren balanced his legs on the table while someone getting the dagger from his pants, the knight was dealing with his own feet, picking at a toenail whille thinking that he should have asked for something to dry them with afterwards. "Take off your shirt and we'll see about finding someone with passion for you. Maybe it would even be about you as a person, rather than just some person to hit, kill, kiss, or fuck." Ren obviously was a bit screwey in the head, so no need to sugarcoat things or watch his language. After another musing, he took the glass Ren behind, tasting to see if Ren has anything on his lips.
 
"I'm not one to surrender, although I'm sure you would have it that way." He arched an eyebrow, watching his brother's every motion from across the well-cleaned table. The fact that it was lower to the ground than most royal tables made it all the more easy to climb atop of to clean, or dance upon, or whatever was necessary. Maintenance, or entertainment. His older brother was being most foul-- after eating the dinner as though he were the skin-ripping beast-- and now plucking casually at his toes as if he were in such intimate company. They truly didn't know each other well enough for such things. And even if they did, Ren would still take note of the lack of etiquette. He laughed when Garold suggested taking his shirt off. "Passion wouldn't be an issue if I was allowed to leave this place more than a few times a year, brother." He considered the idea for a few moments before taking to the table once more, standing on the white wood and moving to the center of the table as if he was an exhibit to be viewed. He slipped the bottom of his silk tunic beneath his fingers and manipulated it onto and over his neck and face before carefully folding it in a tight square and dropping it to the side of his legs. Though his shoulders weren't the epitome of masculinity, his exposed torso gave reason for his appeal. His abs weren't a fully formed set, but there was evidence, lines tracing down, imprints here and there. Evidence of slender muscle. His chest wasn't intensely grooved in the center, but there was enough of a dip to suggest that he wasn't as weak as his clothed body would imply. A cleft in his upper arm might mention that he had, indeed, trained a bit with a sword and dagger. He waited with arms to his sides for his older brother's thoughts or comments. No-- he definitely wouldn't have done this any other time. But maybe the glass of wine on an empty stomach had influenced him a bit.
 
He looked over the exposed chest, still fairly weak from his viewpoint, though he had at least a decade more to build up his body. "Why not just have a guard smuggle some lady in? If you haven't decided the maids weren't good enough for you, that is. Unless you are bored with them already?" A bit of curling hair around the navel, pink nipples standing out over the skin which has almost never had sunlight upon it, veins here and there, nice jugular... "Now pass the shirt over." Garold requested, having wanted it to dry his feet with. "You will be wanting a soldier or slave sent to your room or will you want to take your pick?" He didn't like whoring out his men, but he didn't doubt there would be enough volunteers. He'd do it himself should he had the boy gagged and blindfolded. "Come on back and have another drink while you tell what sort of woman you want."
 
"I don't fool around with the men and women I pay, and any of these commoners wouldn't do." He rolled his eyes, as if assuming his older brother already knew that was the case but decided to ignore it. Ren laughed when his brother commanded him to relinquish the shirt. "This is silk. The best silk. There's no way I'd let you touch your feet to such expensive material." He shook his head, a smile on his face as he hopped off the circular table and knocked on the entrance to the dining room so that they would unlock it. He creaked it open just enough for the guard to see his face-- and not the fact that he was shirtless. "I need a rag. My older brother must dry his feet." He emphasized the action with disdain for having to request such a thing, but laughed nonetheless as he was handed, only moments later, a big, soft rag that he tossed to Garold. Ren walked back over after being sure the door was locked yet again and sat next to his older brother once more. "I don't want sex. I want passion. Besides, I'd want someone to want me without being forced or paid. And then, I could decide if I wanted them back. I don't have trouble finding those who want me... but the second part, me wanting them, tends to be a problem." He let out a breath before glancing at his brother. "Don't touch my neck again." He requested casually, a light grin still on his lips.
 
A weary smile appeared on the princes face as he rubbed over his eyelids, grease from both the food and the oils inside his gloves to prevent blisterss smeared over them. "Enlighten me. You go for both genders, yet will not have any relations with your staff, your guards, your neighbors, anyone of a lower class than yourself despite being of the Royal family, as well as keeping yourself locked away in the middle of nowhere despite having the chance to find anyone you wanted in the capital?" He sighed, as he leaned his head back, the bar and bandages still keeping him ramrod straight. "You want romance. Passion. Flowers and candies? All for this?" He moved his hand forward again, though this time rubbing his thumb over Ren's nipple briefly before tracing a heart shape over his brother's left breast. "How about just masking some people and replacing them when you get bored?" He toweled a foot off while considering the possibility. "Though if anyone is worht having, it have you go to them, rather than them to you."
 
Ren looked down into his wine glass before lifting it to his lips and tipping it back, taking four deep drinks before setting it on the table. He needed as much as he could get to answer this onslaught of questions. "The Capital kept me more confined than anywhere I've ever been. Father is less worried with distance between us, because he assumes I act better here than I did there." He remarked before laughing. "Believe me, I know my standards ask a lot. But anyone less than me cannot be worth me. Not in body and not in heart." He shrugged, not thinking much of explaining it simply due to the fact that his standards were so very stubborn. And he knew that, and he did accept it. When he saw his brother's hand coming toward him, he was wary, but not shaken. Of course, when a finger graced across his nipple, a mild shiver did trace his arms and chest. Sensitivity was a side effect of such intensely high standards. He laughed when he felt the same finger tracing a shape on his chest. "Romance and passion are different. One can have romance without sex... Passion is... Lust and love, together." He rationalized the meaning of the word to him before taking another drink. "People are disposable in many ways, but I wouldn't honor any human with my body unless they truly deserved it." It might've been an arrogant notion, but anyone who got the chance to say they'd slept with a Prince was lucky. "And I know that, too. Why do you think I'm trying to get out more? There's a void. Something's missing. No, not just one thing. So many things aren't present that I desperately need." Ren sat up straight in his chair and looked his brother in the eye. "What about you? Do you use people, and then leave them? Have you had love before-- or passion?" He asked about love as though it were an exotic dish very few had tasted.
 
He calmy refilled his brother's glass while not doing the same with his own, a bit curious to see how much it would take for Ren to start to slur or sleep. "It is hardly as if there are as large of spaces shielded from the downpour as in the Centre. Unless you plan on joining some brigands or monsters you won't get much exploration outside a building." The tunnel systems some towns had aside. Concept was still sound, though. "Though they could probably defeat you physically, I don't suppose you would count that as being your equal. So the only humans besides myself that are greater than you would basically be our parents." By blood at least. Garold didn't doubt thousands were superiour to the one in front of him in many manners. "Unless you wanted some sort of creature for honoring your body with? You want a pet?" When the question of love came up he moved his fingers back to Ren's nipple, pinched it, then twisted. "Sensitive subject." Pulling the sensitive back a bit before releasing he considered it while looking over the topless boy who he considered his inferior. "Yes. I've married before. Think it was love. Screw around enough. In between lovers." The boy seemed to have some rather strange fixation on this. "Didn't you want to die in some sort of blaze of glory? Are you really suggesting you would prefer some long going simmer after a hot burst or would you simply throw in a new log?"
 
Ren noticed his glass filling, while his brother's remained empty. He wondered what that was about, leaving the glass alone for the moment while he listened. "I don't care how hard the rain or cold the snow, I need air and space and life." He shrugged. "You underestimate me. Maybe a good lot of them could beat me if we arm wrestled or something, but I'm not the helpless child you see in me when it comes to defending myself." He attested, tilting his head back to stare at the glittering chandelier above them. The dim lighting felt nice and put him in a better mood than if it had been bright as many of the other rooms in the palace. "Don't be silly. There are a few other monarchies in the world. Monarchies made up of humans. Princes and Princesses, Kings and Queens..." He touched the rim of his glass before resting his hands in his lap. A twisting of flesh caught his attention, and a gasp escaped his lips as he once again swatted the hand away, this time staying put. "Do you even know what sensitive means-" He rubbed at his nipple. "That hurt." He murmured, mumbling a couple indiscreet words to describe the reddening area before giving his older brother his attention. "You think? People in love always say they knew it was love. That it must've been true love, even. That it was love at first sight. I don't know, I guess I'm taken with the idea of an instant feeling of fulfillment." He sighed with relief as the pain dwindled. "I don't know. A drastic death wouldn't be necessary if I had some crazy, amazing force keeping me from dreary monotony."
 
The Prince spilled a bit of the wine from the bottle as he tried pouring again, sos et it aside."I refered to you meeting people, not you walking around catching something contagious while searching for someone to court." Garold picked up the cloth from where it was lieing before getting up and stretching, body showing off again. "Try and actually make contact with some of those royals, then. Just make sure we get to annex them and don't run out of mistresses too quickly. Need to pace yourself so that they don't use up their talents too quickly." He reached his hand out to ruffle Ren's hair, though didn't pay any mind in the high likelihood that his hand was grabbed or dodged. "Take up a hobby. Buy a pet. Maybe find some penpals. Or you could get drugged up. All the rage for curing bordem for the rich and famous. Love at first site... Possible. Some might just say it afterwards though, when they have screwed each other enough. So long s they don't bore each other. "He turned to the door, scratching himself briefly before wiping the spilled wine off his chest and bandages, as well as placing the cloth AKA shirt into the front of his pants before knocking on the door for it to open.
 
Ren laughed. "What, are you worried?" He watched as the wine trickled down from the table before looking around the room and not truly knowing what to do about the mess. He dizzily climbed atop the table and grabbed the silk top still lying in the center, walking back over and hopping down-- nearly falling on his face while doing so. "All the royals I've met have asked if I might marry for some treaty or another. I refuse to marry for politics." He looked worried about the amount of wine that spilled all over Garold, especially around his injuries. "I have plenty of hobbies. Travel should be one of them. And I don't need an animal in my life.. I don't enjoy taking care of an otherwise defenseless creature." He laughed when his older brother mentioned drugs, shaking his head. Ren dabbed his silk shirt on Garold's bandages carefully, trying to get as much off as possible before the man stood up and went over to the door. It was a little difficult not to notice his body, and he definitely would've pinched his brother's nipple out of a sense of vengeance if not for all the wounds and bandages.
 
"Worried about your health? Considering who you walk outside in a storm dressed as if you spent your time chained to the foot of a bed? Yah, it suggests more than one thing that involves you and getting sick." Leaning back, waiting for the door to open he noticed Ren eyeing his body, something off about his more than slightly intoxicated face. "Maybe you were a bit of a lightweight for drinking. You look half ready to suck the wine off of me." Looked hike he might need to piggyback the boy back to a room. Would be fairly embarressing to either or both of them, though. Heading back to his brotherhe put a hand around the boy's waist and led him to the door as it opened. "Comeone, let's get you to bed. He then attempted to steer the shirtless boy out of the room, then through the hallways to his bedroom.
 
Ren couldn't help but laugh at the description his brother gave in reply. "That was not the outfit of a sex slave, if that's what you're implying." He was pretty flattered by the words, which was weird, because it didn't really sound like a compliment. Or, at least, someone who wasn't borderline drunk wouldn't think it was one. When he was called a lightweight, he arched an eyebrow. And then the statement that followed was even more of a laugh. "I might, if there wasn't a risk of drinking wine with blood. I doubt that'd be very tasty, but maybe my tastebuds are tipsy too." He let his older brother semi-support him by grabbing his waist and leading him through the door. He felt the need to explain to the guards why he was shirtless and deny any involvement in the red wine all over Garold. He crossed an arm half-heartedly over his nipples-- many of the guards had already eyed him, fully clothed. So this would ignite even more stares and much more longing. He didn't think it would be productive to push every guard from the railing. "I can do this myself, you don't need to-" He pulled away from his older brother and his body just kind of fell. His free arm caught against the wall before he managed to hit the floor, fortunately. He adjusted his balance and used the wall for support instead.
 
"You looked as good in it as some of my better ones." Garold replied, letting him take the insuations any way he wished." When they came to the door and Ren began to deny having anything to do with the wine on his chest he muttered about prissy nobles cheating in arm wrestling. If anyone took shots at Ren's dignity it would be him and him alone. "Come on" He muttered, taking Ren's arm as if he was a lady being taken to the dance floor. "Just lean on me." He growled a bit at those eyeing his brother, then released him to lean on himself, the wall, or to wobble as he saw fit. Removing his robe he put it over Garold, covering his body to the point where it was difficult to make out any shapes beneath. It did trail a bit though, so he tightened the belt around Ren's waist and reposistioned it so that his legs could go through the opening. "Now do you have a room you can lock and not have someone use a spare key to take advantage of you at night?" He got to the room he had taken for himself, where his campaign bed was folded against the wall. He'd probably want to sleep in it a few more days, though adding pillows and softer sheets, so that he didn't feel suffocated in the large canopied one that came with the room, being the size of a tent and covered with enough cloth for five tents. For a circus.
 
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