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Heir Presumptive. [Ahnkuri x Kadavro]

It was a strange sensation, to be cared for by another human being. Even if it was only pity or sympathy or empathy or.. whatever, any sense of minor care was more than welcome. He'd been deprived of such a feeling for his entire life. And now, to have even the smallest glimpse of worry directed toward him.. was this what family was meant to do for family? Was this what a brother was meant to do for a brother? The shattered remains of his dignity could only be slightly remedied by holding to the wall for the life of him, but he did nod with gratitude when his brother gave him the option to lean on him. Discretion was made accessible when Garold fashioned his robe over his younger brother's body. They had stopped at the room Garold chose for himself earlier. Well, sort of stopped. Ren couldn't keep from moving, stumbling even in ceasing motion. However that was possible couldn't be pin-pointed. It was terribly obvious that the Prince didn't get drunk often. He never thought it necessary. Why tonight was different escaped him. "Only my personal knights have spare keys." He mumbled against the wall, not really knowing what the four knights were up to at the moment. They could've been out in the village, or perhaps in the basement quarters, or patrolling the halls. "...but you shouldn't be worried about anything." He fumbled for his dagger, but missed the handle entirely. "How did..- that happen?" He got a grasp on the handle after a few tries, pulling it at an odd angle from the sheath before deciding to let it slide back in. No, it probably wasn't intelligent to handle sharp objects in his current state. "I'll just be.. next door over, yes?" Ren's words attempted to reassure, although the fact that he was dizzily fondling an incredibly expensive painting between the two bedroom doors for support lent reason for concern. He laughed at his own unstable inadequacy. He twisted the handle to the door adjacent to Garold's and let it creak open before taking a couple less-than-direct steps into the dark room. "Oh." He seemed to have realized something, undoing the robe around him and giving it a general-direction, gentle throw into the hallway. "There's that back. I apologize, for making your night like.. this. And for disrupting your men." He touched a hand to his forehead. "I'll be a better host tomorrow, I'm sure."
 
Damn, sounded like the boy was about to break down in tears or something. Thought that could just be his own lack of empathy and contact with the more emotional states of non-dieing people that suggested that."Get back here." He tookseveral long strides forawrd then grabbed the door to close it, making sure that his voice could be heard by the people in the room. "All these rooms are taken, remember?" He reached down and attempted to stick his hands into Ren's pants to pull out the dagger before he hurt himself. "You'll disrupt my men far more if you are walking about in this state." He attempted to lead the boy back to the room he had commandeered, where he would lead him to the bed.
 
The fact that the royal bedrooms were taken by non-royals baffled him more than words could describe. Fortunately for anyone within earshot, he didn't have the words to compete with such a notion due to his current... state of being. With one final bit of accuracy, Ren took back his dagger. He couldn't be unarmed. Not ever. Not even when he was this intoxicated. Not even when he could hardly use the blade. The weapon was his only protection against whatever could come his way, and he couldn't have it confiscated out of his sibling's worry. He let Garold lead him to the bedroom he'd chosen without much of a fuss. His vision was hazy and his limbs seemed to have minds of their own; certainly, he could afford the shame of sleeping in his brother's room to replace this overwhelming feeling that he couldn't operate his own body. "A prince sleeping with his brother..." He shook his head as though in disbelief of what he was surrendering too, and then realized just how strange the statement sounded. "Or, in the same room as his brother. Not with, necessarily. It's not as though we'll be in together. Just, close." He slapped a hand to his forehead. Idiot. Now he'll believe you've been thinking such corrupt things when you've been trying not to.
 
"Not with." He grabbed at the Princes's wrists when they came in and he saw Ren smack his forehead. He lifted him so that his heels rose from the ground then began to search blindly under the robes through Ren's pants until he found the dagger and pulled. After that false lead, he found the actual one and removed it, before dropping Ren backwards onto the bed. "I'm going to be sleeping over here." Garold nodded to his camp bed as he dropped the dagger into a strongbox, the locking it with a key from something in his pants. After he began to strip the armored legs off and reveal his mostly bare body it could be seen that the key was attacked to a belt, tight around the underside of his hips. He pulled some clothes from the warddrobe and put them on, stiff back aside, then locked the door. "You wouldn't be able to sleep with that in your pants anyways." He tossed some woolen and silk pajamas to Ren before setting up his bed and pulling one of the bedsheets out from underneath him. "Take your pick."
 
He let out a loud enough gasp when he felt his brother's hands groping through his pants-- and when they fondled what was certainly not his dagger, embarrassment lit his face as though he were completely sober again for a moment or two. When he saw the object his brother meant to grab escape from his fingertips, he squirmed uneasily. Watching his most trusted weapon be locked away in a strongbox was possibly the worst part of the day. He looked around the room for something else to be used as a weapon in case someone broke in and his brother was still asleep-- that is, before his brother began stripping. Ren paid no more mind to weaponry, but rather the fact that his older brother didn't care for modesty-- and was that a key on his hip? "You're right, brother. I was most naive to think I needed in, when sleeping in the same room as you." The compliment had no ulterior motive to begin with. As he examined the options, silk was the obvious choice. He slipped off his boots, and then his pants, and then applied the silk pajamas. When his brother wasn't looking, he silently slipped a second dagger from his boot-- yes, he realized he always had two... one in each boot. A smile lit his lips as he placed it beneath his pillow and clutched the handle before lying on his side and pulling up the covers.
 
His brother certainly seemed sensitive, having been rather ticklish when he had searched him, though it might have been from the wine or how he had dangled him off the ground. Opening the door he flagged down a man. "Tell my Procurer the usual procedure, though with or without it being public, depending on where the bath can be." Sending the man on, he began to snuff out the candles in the room, not paying attention to whether they were the scentless ones of the wealthy or the scented ones of the exotic. They certainly weren't cheap, either way. Moving to the door, he slid a sturdy wooden chair under the handle, before heading to his bed, wondering if telling for the usuall procedure would be taken the wrong way, as he wasn't fucking his brother and didn't know when he bathed or if he ate breakfast in bed. Wouldn't really matter though. He moved over to the bed after decidedly not tucking him in, kissed his forehead, then went to sleep in his cot.
 
Ren pushed his teeth down on his lower lip when he felt his brother's mouth against his forehead. Pain could deny pleasure, right? Wrong. It only added sensation to sensation. Whatever Garold had said before definitely flew right over the younger Prince's head, but the detail of the legs of a chair dragging across the floor and positioning at the door didn't. What was that for? His fingertips massaged the handle of his dagger. His thoughts turned to less alluring topics, diving into the brutal murders caused by beasts who harvested flesh. Humans really were so vulnerable, weren't they? He didn't take comfort in that fact, but he did have a morbid curiosity. He fumbled his hand beneath his pillow and slid his pointer finger down the blade just enough to penetrate. He withdrew his finger and sucked the blood from it before it could stain anything, letting out a soft sigh before slamming his eyes shut. They popped open only five seconds later. No, he wouldn't be able to sleep like this. He pulled the dagger from beneath the pillow and placed it parallel to his heart as though it were a stuffed animal, being sure the blanket would cover it in case his brother looked over. There... he began drifting.
 
The dreams were interesting. Or visions? He wasn't entirely sure thar he believed the crock that some were oracles and that their over the top dreams had meaning. Which needed a fair bit of cash to translate. Creeping sunslight was coming about, tanning his body as his skin had golden shine to it, his chest echoing like an empty suit of armor as he turned over, the trees that appeared on the shoreside failing to cast any shadows. His dreams went on for a bit, including an odd one with Ren rustling around his pants for his missing dagger, and the morning came. He didn't have any sunlight to warn him here, though out of habit he was awake early for marching. There was none to be done here, but he could start things rolling while allowing the other Prince to sleep. He removed the chair from under the door, unlocking it and waiting for the servatns to come.
 
The pounding of the raindrops slamming against the massive, circular window on the back wall never shook him. Living in Wolken his entire life definitely made him a heavy sleeper.. and sleeping schedules were always different. Every day held different hours for different matters to be attended, whether it was for entertainment or for the village or just to kill time. He always strived to fight a routine life. And it was with dreams that hidden memories could convey themselves. He caught glimpses of heavy snowfall. Mountains. Blood on the white precipitation, like red paint on a canvas. A steady, soothing scene, if one were to ignore the crimson pool ever growing. And, when the ruby red took up the entire line of sight, his eyes finally opened and he sat up instinctively, sure to kick his dagger further into the covers upon doing so before standing. He held a palm to his heartbeat. Rapid. He blinked and shook his head to dispel the fear, and then glanced at his brother. Painful headache aside, he was completely lucid now. The chair had been removed. He didn't remember hearing the dragging of the legs across the floor. "How long have you been awake?" He pulled his hand away from his heart and set it at his side.
 
Rain. Rain. It got to the point where it reminded him nothing so much as the crackling of a fire or a fast series of drips, going for all time. He thought it was supposed to lighten in intensity when all were loyal. The slaves must have been screwing that over. Probably needed to feed them... Oh, the boy was awake "Long enough." Garold had been doing stretching excercises with his limbs in order to get himself nice and limber after the night's sleep, spent not being able to roll over. His shirt was off to the side, as it was getting in the way, joined with Ren's clothing from the night before, left on the floor as they were. "Do you eat breakfast in here or elsewhere?" He might as well figure out where to give the latest orders. It was taking some time to get his bath drawn, so he might as well make small talk. "Do you have any set schedule in the morning?"
 
Shirtless again. It seemed as though his brother was onto something-- but that was probably just the paranoid mental chatter of someone who hadn't seen his brother in years and very recently discovered a physical attraction to him. He allowed only a five-second glance before walking over to the window. The rain was beautiful, even if he'd seen it every day of his waking existence. Beauty was timeless. Even on constant repeat, it couldn't not be beautiful. "I don't much enjoy breakfast. Tea is a perfect start to my morning. I've never needed more to get through a day." Tea again. He closed his eyes. Was the dream a nightmare, or something else? He was debating if he was actually frightened of the scene or just agonizingly curious. "Oh, no." Even the word 'schedule' repulsed him. "Don't let me impede upon your rituals, though, if you so bear them." He seemed to be speaking at a formal distance, for two very pressing reasons. The aforementioned attraction, and the encroaching fear/curiosity. The two sensations grasped him equally, and he couldn't afford to feel anything without branching off into one or the other. "Act as you would if this were your home." Ren suggested, though it seemed his older brother was quite open to doing whatever he wanted despite anyone else.
 
Picking up the robe Garold had on yesterday, he covered himself then went to the door. Placing on a wooden show that had been left there before, he stepped out of the room and clicked them together, a distinct clapping coming from them as they struck. One of his men arriving, he send them to find a servant, who arrived trying to look like he wasn't going at top speeed when he had been all but sprinting at until he went around the last corner. "Two large breakfasts and a fair amount of tea. Get whatever egg dishes, jams, whatever that cam before and will add some pounds to the Prince." It led to some confusion on the part of the servant as to which prince and if this man was not in fact one, but he went off to do it. Garold had returned to the room wishing that coffee had taken off up north. He found it to be good at keeping his head level, especially after hard drinks, as well as to just keep warm and awake. He wouldn't need to worry bout that here though, so he was keeping his supply untouched for a while longer. And despite what he said about acting as if he was at home, he he didn't think that Ren would appreciate him releasing his load into his chamberpot. With no lover to do it with either, or coffee, it seemed that he would find a new ritual for his time here. "My home?" Garold thought over his plantation near the borderregions and his apartments at the Centre. "I only live there. My home is the frontier." Sounded corny, but what could you do? Wait for the water to warm for tea and baths.
 
Ren glanced at the healing slit in his pointer finger. It looked more like a paper cut than he would've imagined in the minor light of day. A knock could be heard at the door to the washroom, and so he went to open it. A servant handed him a glass chalice of tea and stated that the bath was warm and full for whoever was to take it, obviously confused as to who was in the room and who wasn't at this point. He shut the door. "Bath's done. I don't have any need to wash right now, so you needn't wait." He moved back to the window, sipping the warm tea. It had just a touch of caffeine... nothing addictive or otherwise tremble-inducing. Only a spot to awaken. "Don't you crave calm after going through so much?" He asked with obvious curiosity. "You could always stay here for the winter. Your men are overflowing the palace, so it'd be nice to have them move along. But I'd be happy to keep you." Now he was just inviting trouble, but he couldn't help that the words left his mouth before he could think to contain them. "They'd have to go soon if they're to stay in Northern Wolken. But if they go to the Capitol, they wouldn't face nearly as much danger travelling south." He reasoned. "This could be your home, with me. And you'd have more time to locate the beasts. It wouldn't be so terrible, would it?"
 
In the army modesty was for pansies. He didn't notice the 'papercut' at this point, though he would have been extremely suspicious due to the lack of any paper in that day and age that was cut in a way to leave sharp edges. "I have no season to not be calm when I am inside here." He answered truthfully, though the walls and rain did give him a feeling of being hemmed in. "And my profession gets one used to injuries and death. Haven't even got a scar on your body though, have you?" Two trays were brought into the bathroom and left in there as Garold examined himself in the mirror by the light of an oil lamp. "I might stay here until it was time for the next campaigning season, sure, but I have certain 'needs' that must be met." The bulge from under the robes was obvious as he turned. Even more obvious as he removed the robes and draped it over an arm, stepping out of his pants as he entered the bathroom. "Sure you don't want to wash up when the it's warm? Very relaxing and I could make room so we could eat together."
 
Ren pursed his lips when his brother asked about his scars. "I suppose it's not any of your business." Maybe it seemed strange for him to be secretive about the topic, but what with these strange dreams and the new attraction and his fragmented memories yet unexplained, he couldn't be too careful about what could trigger any of the three to unleash some battering of his brain. Maybe insecurity was a good enough reason to keep such things hidden, even if the readied excuse was a complete lie. "Oh? When does the next campaign-" Wait, what was the last bit of the statement? He had needs? When his brother shifted, he saw the immediate need pleading fulfillment with eyes alert and cheeks ablaze. "When does the next campaigning season start?" He finished what he'd tried to say before, so interrupted by as simple a thing as a lump in clothing. It was probably just an inconvenient looking gathering of cloth "I'm sure you'll find all needs met in the palace." He took the innocent route. That is, until the robe was removed and so was all doubt. "Um, no. I washed midday yesterday." He could still smell the vanilla soap he'd used. "I'd be happy to relax with you in a less intimate arena once you've finished."
 
At the pouting of Ren, Garold look back and examined him again for a few moments in silence. "Somewhere beneath the belt, then." It wasn't a question. He leaned back against the wall, robe covering his groin and a leg as he held it with a crooked arm, taking interest at the blushing and prudishness of the Prince, who didn't simply just look away. "When the rainy season is over and the road through the conquered provinces are built." He picked his teeth, not expecting Ren to understand how things were down farther south. "That is true, but there are more people watching my fuck around." He walked to the bath after giving the declining boy a silent 'suit yourself', then removed his underwear and stepped into the tub, slowing lowering himself into the hot waters before stretching and breaking his fast.
 
Garold had already seen all of Ren's upper body, neck, and face, so that was an assumption one could easily and accurately make. He wouldn't make any gesture or expression to relate where exactly the alleged scars were, nor did he intend to any time soon. He'd been looking away from his older brother so many times before that he didn't think it an option, as if one had a certain limited number of head-rotatations before he'd used them up. It was obviously irrational, but it was all he could use to excuse his subtle glances. "Over?" Ren kept his eyes higher. Much higher. "The concept is new to me. Does this happen in the south?" He seemed to be more speaking with himself than present company. He knew it couldn't happen in the north. He had considered joining his brother in the bathroom after words and sounds faded for a solid minute or two. But it was too inappropriate to match his feelings with actions. Control and restraint were his life. Without the two, what would he be but a grovelling mental patient? Memories shattered like a priceless mirror, affections for one of the few people most forbidden to pursue, obsessions after obsessions not quenched. Maybe these were all side effects of his confinement here. He sat on the bed, sending his breakfast back for hungry servants and sipping passively at his tea as though this were all he knew to occupy his time.
 
Ren didn't answer to whether or not there was anything below his belt, but he really hadn't left much room for him to answer anyways. "Got any from fights or near death experiences?" He saat somewhat akwardly in the tub as the bandages got coaked through in the bottom. "If ou show me your's I'll show you mine." He was getting somewhat annoyed at how his brother just stayed in the other room, sometimes glancing away when he didn't think he was looking. Maybe his imagination, though. He wasn't nearly as alert as he should have been. "It happens everywhere. It just turns into a drizzle in most places. Never around the Centre, though. The rains are strongest there and weakest in the areas I head to. I'll admit that it is nice to just lay around and soak the sun into my skin, but it takes some time to cordone an area off so I'm not seen." He drank some of the berry drink brought to him, deciding that it was far too tangy. "Could you get me a sponge and help with these bandages?"
 
Ren placed his back against the wall shared with the bathroom. The door was left open so they could speak without shouting. He took another drink of his tea as he listened to his brother, who didn't seem to want to drop the subject of where his scars were and how they were attained. He didn't bother answering the first question, and instead listened to the offer that followed shortly after. "I'm afraid your scars would put mine to shame." He suggested with a small laugh. When his brother spoke of how the rainy season would end in all places across Wolken save for the Capitol, he shrugged. He'd never seen the rain mitigated in the north, except when it snowed instead. He didn't intend to debate it. "You seem to do that often enough, for how tan you are. I wonder how quickly the color will fade from your skin." He remarked, a dwindling, passive curiosity. He froze for a few moments upon his brother's requests. The sponge would be simple enough. Look straight forward and hand it to him, and then leave. But helping with the bandages? That would require wandering eyes and hands-- and he wondered if he could help but stare. Maybe he could supply an adequate excuse? "Hold on just a moment." He stood up again and began rifling through a smaller dresser nearest the open bathroom entryway that held any bathing supplies necessary to clean. He acquired a sponge. "I'd hate to aggravate an injury... Maybe I should get the medic to help you with them? He's probably just in the hallway." He walked into the bathroom, keeping his eyes casually but carefully pinned above the water's surface as he handed his brother the sponge and backed up a few steps so that it wouldn't be possible to stare at anything immodest, waiting for his brother's response.
 
So Garold was correct. He did somehow manage to get most of his injuries beneath his pants. Was he spanked or flogged whenever he tried to give his guards the slip? He also seemed to have been misunderstood about how neighboring countries did not have nearly as much rain, with the clouds going to the Centre, "When my skin begins to peel, I imagine. Though the first few times I got tanned I began peeling early, turning bright red." It was to be expected, really. He had no way of knowing about how the sun would act when he was longer, and when he ceased the habit of covering all skin as iff from the rein his face got the full blast. His eyelids became the darkest part of his skin, for some reason. Perhaps because the ointments and skin coverings never covered that one area."Nah, I mostly want these off so that I can get my legs clean. Think you could help with that?"
 
"Your skin would do that even without exposure to sunlight?" He blinked, wondering if he'd been misunderstood or if Garold knew just what he was saying, as usual. Ren had never gone through phases of tan and pale-- he was always the latter. He wondered if he'd light up like a ruby in the face of the sun, or if he'd actually be able to harness a bit of color. Still, he'd grown used to the lack of pigment in his snow white flesh. He figured his body a canvas to paint with various decorations. Clothing, weapons, and the like adorned him in strict contrast. He imagined if natural light was cast on his eyes, they, too, would stand out. Legs. The word took off in his mind as though an explosion. Aside from the visible bandages wrapped about his older brother's torso, was every other injury taken beneath? Be the robotic royal your father always dreamed you could be. Take a command as such and never glance outside the lines. Eliminate all visualization besides bandaged regions. You can handle this. "What can I do that you can't, brother?" He attempted to confirm the request and hopefully narrow the line of sight... or something like that.
 
"It will have to eventually. It is not as if you have had the same set of skin while you grew up. Even keeping in mind how you would have outgrown it... Ehhh."He had seen the dead skin around wounds enough to figure that skin could peel without being burned, though a bit slower. Having cuts meant that there was even more of a reason for it to die, but who the hell cared? He instead waited for for brother to respond to helping him out, not knowing about how he was calculating where his injuries where. It wasn't as if he hadn't had them before. They simply healed. It got to the point where, with the over one hundred pound set of armor that he got bruises at the most, not counting twisted limbs or- Best not to go there. "Take a mule in your ass?" He half joked as he he worked a bar of soap over his throat. "That and get to some of the more hard to reach places."
 
He shrugged. He knew nothing of the body it seemed. "A mule?" He tilted his head to the side as if a short-circuiting android. Click, click. Boom. The phrase 'harder to reach places' was the grenade dropping in the crowded room of his mind, obliterating all other thoughts in a single climax of several moments. Even the strange joke that he'd questioned before was out cold, a corpse among many others in the informal graveyard. "Take off as much as you can, and then I'll help you with the rest." Another delay tactic. But he didn't know how much more he could take of this taunting, this agonizing tension between them that he didn't even think his older brother knew he was helping build. Or maybe he did? At this point, logic was out. As were the amount of excuses he could supply before his brother began catching on that Ren didn't want to go anywhere near his naked body at the risk of enjoying the sight. "I'd not risk dirtying my hands. Hold on." Despite the volatility of the situation, his electronic expression wouldn't leave his face. He left the bathroom and sifted through the smaller dresser once more, applying a set of long rubber gloves to his hands--and, inevitably, forearms--before rejoining his brother in the washroom. Each slow step toward the tub was a loud crash in his ears... despite the ironic reality that his feet were bare and hardly made a noise against the floor at all.
 
"Sure you don't want to just join me?" Garold asked with complete innocense as he lathered up his hard chest, trying to release some of the tension that compacted his muscles so much, able to brake a neck with a grab to the arm and a swipe to the side of there head. "We're both men and I'm secure enough in my masculinity to not do anything fey, especially with my brother." He joked and gave him a wink as he drew his tongue across his upper lip. "Even if you do look like one of the few girlish guys that I wouldn't need to hold back with." His warming wood from earlier was still visible beneath the water surface as he reached over to eat from bread with jam from the tray, the crushed berries sticking to his stubble as he chewed, watching the other Prince acting like he was somehow filthy.
 
Ren was going utterly insane with worry at what he might do, and it was definitely starting to show through in chipped bits of his metallic expression. He let out a breath as if to say 'this is hopeless' before looking his older brother in the eye and simply listening to all he could rationalize. He let out a hysterical laugh. "Girlish? I may not be a body builder, but it's not as though I have breasts rocketing from my torso or lack of any lump in my undergarments. But you're damn right, you wouldn't have to hold back." Yes, he'd lost the war against immodesty. The bath was certainly large enough to carry three or four comfortably. He eyed it, and then eyed his brother's body for a split second. Ren lifted his shirt from hips to neck to head before throwing it into the bedroom through the open entryway. He did the same with his silk pajama pants. His cotton undergarments looked as though wrapped bandages, starting at the hips and descending to his lower thighs on each leg. "I'm leaving this on." He walked over to the tub and lifted himself in, eyes locked on Garold's face so they wouldn't have any excuse to wander. Of course, he'd have to get to removing his older brother's bandages, but that could wait until he removed what he could remove by himself. Fortunately, the texture of his underwear prevented translucence when wet. He didn't need any attention drawn to his scars, or to the other thing he intended to keep hidden. "You really don't give up until you get what you want, do you?" Although his tone sounded critical, a smile crossed his lips. It seemed, finally, like all the distance had been shattered. Here he was bathing with his brother on the second day of his stay here. He imagined that they'd become as close as brothers should be before long. "Do take off whatever you can reach, and I'll handle the rest for you. I'd do it all if I were your servant."
 
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