sterngaze | open post

[This is at least the third time now by Liem’s reckoning, maybe the fourth, that his husband has been bewildered by his decision to do something nice for him. He wonders briefly if this is going to be an ongoing pattern; if suspicion lies so close to Cardan’s bones that he cannot help but mistrust any attempt at thoughtfulness aimed his way. Though rather than his suspicion, perhaps Liem should be laying blame at the feet of Cardan’s fatigue on this particular occasion.]

I’ve finished my work. Such that couldn’t wait.

[The look he aims at Cardan as he emerges from the covers stops short of being solicitous, but he does note the severely bedraggled state of the bandages covering his wounded shoulder. He doesn’t know what the house doctor might say about that; all he knows is that his husband still smells as he should, so he assumes his wound isn’t doing anything untoward. Ultimately, Cardan does not really look to be in need of tending. He just looks tired and rumpled and exquisitely edible.

Liem is, however, aware of a certain similarity he’s noticed between the two of them. His husband’s care for his own physical needs has often seemed haphazard to Liem, like he can’t be bothered to worry about such mundane things when he’d rather be drinking and involving himself in Liem’s business. Hypocritically, he’s displeased by the idea of leaving Cardan alone with himself when he’s tired and suffering injury.

He says, sensibly,]

I’m here to keep you company. And to see if you want lunch.

[ It's hard not to draw parallels to the day at the stables, when Liem had strolled in and announced he'd cancelled meetings to romp through the woods with Cardan instead. He's as blind-sided by it now as he was then -- perhaps more so. Whenever Cardan had to retreat to nurse his wounds in the past, he would do so alone. He had always thought it preferable to having someone else witness his most pathetic moments, anyway.

But if Liem had wanted to gloat about Cardan's injuries, surely the most opportune time has already passed.

Still, he's caught between discomfort -- because it's unnecessary, and because he doesn't want to owe Liem for unnecessary things -- and a strange, insistent delight. He had taken it for granted that Liem would leave and come back in the morning, at which point Cardan would have composed himself into some semblance of being awake. To have him back is novel, and unexpectedly flattering.

At least, Cardan will choose to take it as such.

As usual, he takes refuge in audacity most easily. The grin he directs Liem's way curls with sharp licentiousness, even as his fingers travel down to hook into Liem's collar.

Once again, Cardan will attempt to tug him closer. ]

Is your intent to nurse me back to health, husband?

[ Of course, Liem has expressed no such desire, but he's here, and he appears to be trying to get Cardan to eat, which is basically the same thing. ]

[This time, when Cardan attempts to bring him nearer, Liem allows himself to be tugged close. His husband looks and smells much as he did when he'd left him, save that the blood-scent on him has gone flat — but fortunately, although dishevelment has not lessened Cardan's allure, the intervening hours have returned to Liem his ability to function in the face of it.

His nose brushes Cardan's as he leans closer, gently conversational.]

Do you wish for me to?

[Is that what he's come here to do? He hadn't had such a concrete intention in mind when he'd given the night's matters over to Gusairne, or when he'd directed the servants to bring food to their rooms. He'd simply wanted to be thorough. He'd simply thought that Cardan shouldn't have to be alone.]

I cannot say I have much experience with nursing.

[He probably has about as much experience as Cardan has interest in it, as he doubts his husband has much tolerance for being fussed over.]

Nor I with being nursed.

[ Unlike Liem, Cardan has failed to acquire any additional immunity to his husband in the interim. When Liem leans close, when his face brushes Cardan's, his only defense to the little thrill that sings through him is to go on the offensive. He runs his hands down the front of Liem's shirt and turns his head just enough to breathe a kiss against his jaw, almost as if by accident.

Then he posits that if Liem is concerned about his appetite, he ought to feed Cardan by hand.

That lasts him about half a breath, because as soon as food touches Cardan's tongue, he realizes he is ravenous. He forgets his fine manners, for a moment, forgets flirtation, too busy devouring the tray of refreshments. He cannot remember feeling this feral about food since he'd been a child in rags, stealing fresh buns from the palace kitchens.

Once he's done gorging himself, sleep becomes inevitable. Still, even with his eyelids leaden and his limbs sinking into the sheets, he does his best to trap Liem there with him, draping long limbs over him before slipping back into slumber. He will sleep for some time longer, and when he wakes, he is sure that morning is no longer far off.

He knows he should get out of bed and knows just as well that he doesn't want to. For some time, he will put it off, busying himself instead with a lazy inventory of his husband's face, fingertips tracing along the lines of Liem's brows, his nose, the hollow of his throat--

But eventually, Cardan sighs, pulls his hand away, and asks, ] Can your house run me a bath?

[ Though he's generally not averse to being covered in traces of licentious activity, even he has to admit that he feels stickier than he prefers. ]

[Cardan's suggestion puts a smile on Liem's face, for its novelty as much as for the charming intimacy of it. He can't remember if there was ever a time that someone asked such a thing of him. Most of the times he's shared any kind of meal with a lover, their snack had been in the form of a person.

He is happy enough to grant Cardan's wish; happier still to see him demolish the tray of food sent from the kitchens, even if he does fall upon it like a starving animal. If Liem had harboured any uncertainties about whether his husband actually needs food as mortals do, they are soundly erased. He makes a mental note to be more proactive about ensuring that he isn't the only one who ends up fed when he sups on his spouse in the future.

With his work seen to and his worries about his husband's hunger quieted, Liem allows himself to be lured back to bed for a much-needed nap. He wakes burrowed so snugly between Cardan and the pillows that he cannot even properly draw breath, so it's just as well that he doesn't need to. But although he shifts to a slightly less suffocating position, he is in no hurry to drag himself once more out of bed and into his clothes.]

Yes, [Liem answers, not yet bothering to open his eyes.] Hot water, at least.

[Unfortunately the manor is not magical enough to tip any flower petals or scented bath products into the water, so if Cardan desires such things he'll need to do that himself. Personally, Liem considers a bath that's just filled with water to be a little spartan, but for the time being, he asks the house to tend to it. The sound of pouring water comes muffled from the direction of the washroom.

He feels a little groggy — probably a symptom of napping while the sun isn't even up, if he had to guess. Liem gives his husband a gentle squeeze around the waist before blinking his eyes open and pushing himself onto his elbows to ease back into wakefulness. He regards Cardan for a moment through the dark.]

Would you like any assistance?

[ In the past few hours, Cardan has gotten used to emoting through pitch blackness. It's not so difficult when he can read where his husband is by the glowing embers of his eyes.

When they're open, anyway.

He'll sit up reluctantly, rolling his injured shoulder with a frown. It's still a little sore and stiff, but it no longer feels quite so raw underneath the rumpled bandages, which he will reach for and start unwinding as he waits for the tub to fill.

His considering stare finds Liem's. ]

If you help me bathe, [ he points out, reasonably, ] we are liable to end up fucking again.

[ Not that this would be an unwelcome thing. It's got to be close to morning, and no work meetings will demand Liem from him in the immediate future. He doesn't want to think about the serious conversations they should have, nor about Dain or the foolish things they've promised each other. If it were up to Cardan, he would simply ignore this whole sordid affair and spend as much time as possible squeezing pleasure out of his remaining months in this world.

But Liem has decided to throw his lot in with Cardan's cursed one, and now he -- quite despite himself -- feels responsible. ]

[Liem huffs out a small laugh at the sound of Cardan's observation. The idea of fucking in the bath sounds alarmingly tempting right now, and given their activities for the last day, he has to admit that he's been in the kind of mood to give in to temptation. It would be much easier than addressing the more serious matters that still demand their attention.]

Well, I cannot disagree. And we have other things yet to do tonight.

[Seeing as tonight is already almost over, it would probably be for the best if he got dressed. Feeling put together might not stop his eyes from lingering over Cardan's every movement, but it's hard to feel especially confident in his self-control when he and his husband are nude in the same room.

But he slides over to the side of the bed and goes about lighting the candle there before he attends to anything else.]

Perhaps another time.

[On a night when they have fewer pressing things to discuss — if that night ever actually arrives. For now, Liem rises to investigate the idea of becoming clothed.]

Oh, perhaps.

[ The sharp little grin he directs Liem’s way has as much to do with the denial as it does with the shape of his lean body, shaded attractively in soft candlelight. Cardan doesn’t bother hiding the deeply interested way he’s watching Liem dress; after all, his surfeit of desire is hardly news to either of them, and why else would his husband give Cardan the benefit of light?

It’s almost distracting enough to make him forget about his own purpose. Almost — though eventually he’ll have freed himself of the bandages and rolled out of bed himself. The mirror reveals a truly bedraggled picture: his hair is curling at wild angles, his neck a mess of bruises. Smears of his own blood still persist on his skin. Cardan takes a moment to press his fingers to the twin wounds Liem has left on his throat; they are still a little tender, which is surprising, but sends a soft little throb of wanting down Cardan’s spine.

A cursory glance at his back reveals better progress. It’s still an angry red, and swollen along the ugly scar, but the skin has knotted together around the stitches, as he’d suspected. He vaguely remembers something about getting them removed — a procedure that he’s sure is bound to be as barbaric as putting them there had been — but surely that can wait a bit.

The bath feels nice. He doesn’t bother improving on the house’s contribution of hot water before he sinks in, though he will soap up to scrub away the remnants of the night from his skin and face. On a whim, he will steal Liem’s shampoo to lather into his hair, not that it will make much of a difference — Cardan’s hair looks the same no matter what he washes it with. It’s a nice reminder, anyway, of Liem’s scent on his pillow.

Half an hour later he’s damp but clean, and pulling on clothing. He doesn’t go so far as to affect any formality: just dark trousers and a billowy shirt made of spidersilk, the collar of which leaves Liem’s handiwork exposed. Cardan will worry about how to hide his neck later.

He’ll acquire a new glass of wine before he settles into the couch of their sitting room. His head feels clearer than it has at any point in the past twelve or so hours, but he cannot help the anxiety that gnaws at him. After all this, he still isn’t sure of what Liem might want. Worse, he doesn’t know if Liem is certain, himself.

His fingers tap on the stem of his glass, restless. His wedding band is still the only ring he’s wearing; he catches the glint of the blue gems, a colour close to that of Liem’s eyes. How had Elfhame’s artisans known…?

That’s, admittedly, not the question he should be asking. ]

[Liem cannot be surprised by the sharp, pointed smile he earns from Cardan, but he still manages to be a little distracted by it. His gaze catches on the angles of that handsome face, the unflinching interest in those dark eyes. Despite his husband’s dishevelled state, Liem thinks, he still wears his pride like a crown.

And he should really be getting dressed.

They have work to do, so Liem dresses again for work — though he remains in just his waistcoat and shirtsleeves, as a concession to the privacy of their meeting. While his husband bathes, he pours himself a glass of wine, lowers himself into one of the sitting room’s cushioned chairs, and directs his thoughts properly to Cardan’s would-be murderer for the first time since the previous night.

There is much he does not know about Dain, just as there is much he does not know about all of Cardan’s relations. This needs to change. He cannot wage a war against someone who exists to him only as a name and handful of facts. But he cannot make up for what he does not know in the span of one morning’s discussion.

And there also exists the trouble of waging a war against someone without his father finding out. That will not be as simple as using his own funds to fund his activities. His father is meticulous in keeping track of his investments. Liem will need to be careful about where he goes, and whom he invites where. He will need a cover story to explain what is taking all of his time.

He is still thinking when Cardan reappears, damp and clean and clothed, though casually. As he regards him, his eyes cannot help but wander to his throat. The marks there seem starker without the smears of dried blood camouflaging them. Fascination tugs inconveniently at the direction of his focus.

He forces his gaze back up at Cardan’s face.]

Cardan, [he says, musingly.] What can you tell me of Elfhame’s trade relations with other countries?

[ Cardan feels Liem’s glance like a caress on his skin; it is difficult to tell what his husband is thinking, however. Does he regret his work? Delight in it? He had seemed so reluctant to bite Cardan, and for so long, that he’s not sure if they’re fully over that particular hurdle, much as he wishes to be so.

The question Liem poses is not one he expects. He blinks, momentarily off guard. He had not imagined this conversation to test this particular part of his palace education. ]

For one, that there is no such thing as a country.

[ It seems a fussy thing to point out, but if they are going to get entangled in Faerie — if Liem is asking for the reason Cardan thinks he might be asking — he will need to get used to how much difference a misplaced word can make, and quickly. ]

Elfhame trades with the lower courts under its purview, but it is more tithing than what you might consider trade — agreements that were made centuries ago, and debts of much the same vintage.

Then there is the Undersea.

[ He’ll swill the wine in his glass… then wriggle his fingers, looking like he’s concentrating. There is a ripple from the surface of the liquid, and then a fine red mist rises into the air between them, forming the shapes of three isles. It’s an illusion, of course, though not one meant to deceive. ]

The isles of Elfhame are surrounded by it, and so we have treaties with the Undersea’s Queen. She trades us salt and fish and pearls the size of grapes, so perfectly round you could use them as marbles. And in return, we send her gold for her adornment and steel with which to keep her enemies in line.

[ This is probably both more and less detail than Liem requires, but Cardan has no idea what specifically he’s looking for, so he mentions the things he thinks interesting first. ]

Edited 2023-02-02 21:48 (UTC)

[Liem accepts Cardan's initial response with a small frown. He had chosen what he thought to be a broad enough word, one that might describe regions of a number of different sizes and sovereignties. Apparently this concept is not as universal as he had imagined.

It makes little difference at the present moment. He watches his husband conjure miniature islands from his wineglass, eyeing the representation with interest. He has not yet seen a map of Elfhame; to see it represented in this way piques his curiosity.]

There are many things I do not yet understand about the place you come from.

[His observation is distracted, almost as though he is speaking to himself. His eyes remain fixed to the curious shapes of the three islands.]

I will need to ask you to explain what you mean at some point.

[Perhaps not right now. The specifics of what Faerie is made up of if not countries likely fall beyond the scope of their current discussion.

Finally, he looks back up.]

I will need an avenue of influence there, to accomplish anything of use. An excuse to visit, and to establish regular communications. If my father discovers what is demanding so much of my time — and he will, eventually — what he finds must be no more interesting than a private business venture.

Does Elfhame do business with… Ironside? Generally speaking.

[ Cardan eyes Liem instead of the islands -- they are hardly a novelty to him, after all. A lazy wave of his fingers soon renders them back into the glass. For a moment longer, he will say nothing, and his gaze on Liem's face suggests he is sizing up a riddle.

They are, at least, of one mind on the fact that Iago should not know of this. Still, something about this level of subterfuge strikes him as odd; a half-formed idea circles his thoughts, uncertain as a shadow beneath waves. ]

Not in the way you imagine.

[ Does that need an explanation? It occurs to him that he has no idea how much Liem knows about Faerie, how much he would have been told. Perhaps Cardan is not the only one who is ignorant about his spouse's true nature.

It shouldn't make him feel better, but it does. ]

Humans trade with us for things they want -- or think they want. Fortune. Beauty. Lost love's return. A male child to inherit the family name. Not bargains that, I would think, would be useful to you. [ And they come with a price, he doesn't say, but of course that much should be obvious. ]

But you are not mortal, which should be to your advantage. Still, I would not set your sights on the isles themselves. For one, you are in the unenviable position of being wed to Eldred's least favourite child.

[ He says this drily, like he's not trying to be particularly bitter about it. ]

For two, a lower court will be easier to navigate. The Alderking in Fairfold treats with the local humans, so he may be open to hearing out a foreigner. And it is far enough from Elfhame for neither of our fathers to hear about it immediately.

If you wish to do business, I would start there.

Edited 2023-02-03 05:02 (UTC)

[The bargains that Cardan speaks of do not sound especially related to the kind of business that Liem is most familiar with, and that he wishes to conduct. He cannot build a business on the ill-conceived wishes of desperate mortals, nor would he want to. But that is clearly not the only kind of trade that Elfhame conducts, even with the residents of Ironside.

After all, that is why they two were married.

He regards Cardan in silence for a moment, thinking. The reminder that his husband is not well-regarded in his family no longer comes as any surprise to him, though he tries not to dwell on the dry way in which Cardan brings it up. It has the familiar smell of an old wound, plastered over to keep the evidence of it hidden from sight.

It would be best, he has to admit, for them to stay away from the isles. He is of course loath to draw attention from his father, which he surely will if he attempts to do business somewhere Iago has already set his sights, and he does not know what kind of reaction the High King would have to the sudden return of his star-cursed progeny. But he is most concerned about the prospect of taking Cardan there because it seems like treading into the centre of a spider’s web, and he suspects that it would make Dain’s designs on his husband’s life all the easier to realize.]

I will defer to you on this. It is best to be cautious.

[A single blunder could easily prove disastrous given their circumstances, so he is inclined to be patient. Rushing will not help him accomplish what he said he would, in any case.]

We already have targets painted on our backs, so I don’t wish to draw too much attention too quickly. But this seems to me like the best way to begin.

Though I also welcome any insights you might wish to provide, considering my paucity of knowledge about your family and your home.

[ Cardan doesn't bother pointing out that the one who's painted the target on Liem's back is Liem himself. He's not entirely sure they are done having this argument, but he cannot see an immediate advantage in bringing it up just now.

Well, not that there are any advantages in it for him. A pity his sense of guilt is averse to reason. ]

I do not rightly know where to start.

[ It's hard to put himself into the shoes of someone who has not grown up in a fey court. Liem is starting with an advantage over mortals -- he is, at least, a member of an immortal court, and slightly less susceptible to magical deception -- but the rules and mores of Faerie are as riddles, meant to deceive and confound. ]

Perhaps with this: make no deal nor agreement with any of my kind, no matter how small, until you've given me a chance to examine the terms.

[ Though he is trying to look casual about all of that, there is something a little tense in his jaw when he looks at Liem. ]

[Liem has tried to avoid letting himself form expectations about what kind of help Cardan is actually equipped to provide him. At a minimum, he represents a member of Elfhame's royal family, and has a lifetime of familiarity with Faerie and its politics. These things alone are invaluable, considering how lost Liem would be trying to navigate any part of Faerie without him. It is not an exaggeration to say that he could not even attempt to strike back at Cardan's brother if he was unwilling to help him.

Nevertheless, it is daunting to hear his husband say that he does not know where to start, and he frowns slightly as he considers what he has to say. It makes Liem uncomfortably aware of just how blind he is at present, and how ill equipped to begin this endeavour. It is not enough to say that their climb to a workable position will be steep; rather, he does not even know just how steep it will be.]

That might be… inconvenient. But it's workable.

[He had to squelch "thank you" from his vocabulary for his wedding. He can probably do this, in the interests of not immediately landing himself in some arcane deal whose full extent he wasn't privy to. And generally speaking, Liem thinks of himself as someone who is cautious with his words. Still, he is not used to regarding spoken conversations as trapped mazes in and of themselves.]

Though in business matters that would of course go without saying. I could not make agreements without consulting my partner.

[ Hearing Liem refer to him as his partner is unexpected; Cardan raises an eyebrow, uncertain if his husband intends to... flatter him? But that doesn't seem like Liem's style. ]

Is that what you consider me in this?

[ The idea of Cardan Greenbriar, Elfhame's most useless prince, being anyone's partner in any overarching political venture is-- it is flattering, actually. He doesn't want to dwell on it in too much detail, because he's afraid of liking it too much. He imagined something like "charge" or, at best, "counsellor" -- at least given that Cardan's need for protection was the presumed reason for all this, and that his knowledge is the way he is repaying Liem for his trouble.

Which doesn't leave much actual reward for Liem on the table. Unless--

He sets his glass down and leans forward, his hands clasped. His eyes bore into Liem's with something akin to curiosity, except several measures more intense than curiosity ought to be. ]

I know why I don't want your father to know about this.

[ He doesn't want more bloodshed, for one. Nor is he keen on Iago finding out what a nasty, crown-destroying little prophecy has nurtured in his house for the past two months. ]

But why are you so keen on hiding it from him?

Edited (spelling) 2023-02-03 20:20 (UTC)

What else?

[What else would Liem consider Cardan in this endeavour but his partner? He has secured his vow of aid, and they both have much to lose if they are less than successful in their efforts. He has no choice but to rely on his husband in this matter, just as he has forced Cardan to rely on him.

Although, bound though Cardan may be by his vows, Liem does not think his husband really has any better options to escape to.

Still, his mouth thins a little in the face of Cardan's question. Even if he balks at the prospect of giving his husband back into the care of his family, he cannot help but feel a pang of guilt for expecting him to stay in the care of his own. As if this house doesn't have just as much capacity to be dangerous to him as anywhere else.]

Cardan… I did not think this would be a worry to you before last night, but… My father does not allow opportunities to slip through his fingers once they are before him.

[He can see it so easily: If his father discovered that an assassin had come for someone in his household, he would want to know who sent them, and why. He wouldn't rest until he had unearthed every fact there was to be found about Cardan and his family — and at some point, sooner or later, he would learn of his new son-in-law's prophecy. And in the scheme of his father's resources, Cardan would go from being a temporary piece of little import to being the key to an unprecedented opportunity.

Tension sinks its claws anxiously into his shoulders, into his spine, into the lines of his face as he meets Cardan's stare. When they were married, Liem promised to protect his husband for as long as he remained faithful. But there has always been one person from whom he could never protect him.]

If he discovered why your relations would wish you dead, he would want to make use of you, however he could. And he would make me help him.

[ Cardan listens to Liem's explanation with a distinct lack of surprise. Though it is a little uncomfortable -- it makes him remember, at least, how foolish it was to share his secrets even with his husband. How strange and unlikely that it didn't serve to sink him after all.

At least not yet.

He still doesn't know why Liem seems to be intent on this path. This is the third time he's asking, and the third time that Liem cannot give him an answer that makes sense. Cardan does not think his husband is particularly adept at deception, but he cannot shake the nagging feeling that perhaps Liem only sounds earnest because Cardan wants him to be. ]

That explains why I wouldn't want him to know.

[ Or, at least, it confirms his suspicions about why he didn't want Iago to know. Of course he would want to use Cardan to his advantage; only a fool would not. ]

It does not explain why you would side with a husband you've known for two months over the father who raised you.

[ There is no accusation in his voice. This is the truth, is it not? No matter how hard-fought the goodwill between them, no matter how magnetic the physical attraction nor how strangely tender some of the moments they have shared -- in the grand scheme of their lives, they are still closer to strangers than not.

Cardan speaks with the patient, unhurried tone of a tutor trying to understand a scattered student. ]

If you genuinely wish to treat me as a partner, [ and he's still not particularly confident Liem would, ] then I think it would be best if we were forthright with each other.

Edited 2023-02-04 01:25 (UTC)

[How does Liem explain to Cardan that his father is not his friend, nor his partner? How does he make him understand the difference between his willing duty to his house and his grudging role as his father's pawn and accomplice? He has already told Cardan that he does not get along with his father, and that he wishes independence from his decisions about Liem's life. He doesn't want to dredge up his own grievances to explain himself.

And yet he sighs, resigned, because his husband isn't wrong in his assertion or in his distrust.]

You do not understand.

[Of course he doesn't understand. Is Iago not charming with everyone in his house, Liem included? Is Iago not a businessman first, known for his wealth and his cleverness? He seems far too warm and too fair-minded to be a man of any unusual cruelty.]

I promised to protect you. And I want to keep my vows to you. But those things do not matter to him.

[He sits back in his chair, glancing down into the depths of his glass. It is easier than telling this story while he meets his husband's eye.]

Have you heard of the houses Altieri and Hellier?

[He imagines Cardan has, if he's spent any time at all listening to gossip about his husband. It was common knowledge that he was intimate with Carissa Altieri, and that Laurent Hellier was a friend of his.]

My father wished to make Hellier a vassal house to ours, and he tried to exploit my friendship with one of the Lord's sons to do so. I declined to cooperate — but within the year, my relationship with both him and my companion from Altieri… deteriorated. There was an incident.

[He doesn't bother to go over the details. Why would he, when almost anyone in his father's court would know this part of the tale? He'd been in the midst of a party when the young Lord Hellier challenged him to a duel over his own lover's honour. It scarcely even matters that he lost; rumours about the cause of the schism between him and both Laurent and Carissa were floating around for weeks afterward.

Of course, it hadn't been much longer before not just Hellier but Altieri was bending knee as his father had wanted. But if people spoke of anyone's lust for vengeance as a result, it was inevitably of Liem's.]

Laurent ended up dead, and it might as well have been at my hand. It was more than a stupid misunderstanding: my father had to have been behind the whole thing.

[Who else would have the motive, or the means? And yet Liem had still helped him topple Hellier, and then Altieri besides. Because Carissa at least was still alive — and he wanted her to remain so.

He looks back up at Cardan, reluctantly.]

There is no investment he won't sacrifice and no bridge he won't burn to get what he wants. And mine happen to be conveniently expendable. Does that answer your question?

Edited 2023-02-04 05:02 (UTC)

[ He watches Liem's face the entire time, even if his husband will not meet his eyes until the end. Something about the way he starts the story is different-- something about it makes Cardan steel himself, makes him school his face into a flat, calm mask. Even so, his eyes widen as Liem progresses through the tale, caught in horrible astonishment.

It is much worse than the thing he was guessing at.

He doesn't answer Liem immediately, letting the silence hang between them for a while. It is his turn to look down at his clasped hands, at the wedding band still around his finger. He is not surprised at Iago's ambition. That the elder Talbott was cruel and calculated, that his charm hides a chill that runs to the bone -- Cardan had known this from the start and thought nothing of it. Certainly, he would expect nothing less of a man who had managed to broker a treaty with Faerie. ]

You were right. I did not understand.

[ There is an uncomfortable feeling gnawing at him. Something other than fear, though that would be appropriate also. But whatever peril he faces at Iago's hands cannot be worse than what Dain or Balekin might do to him once sufficiently motivated; either way, Cardan's life hangs in the balance. No.

...he is angry, he realizes. He is angry for Liem. Cardan had assumed his husband was more interested in his work than other people; now, it seems too obvious that something else guides Liem's avoidance of court friendships. Even his vows and his strange commitment to Cardan's safety are beginning to make sense in a way they hadn't before. He thinks about the bits and pieces of rumours he's heard and feels the familiar tug of an old wound, an old rage teased open by coincidence. His brother did a thing not dissimilar to this. He thinks of Dain's noble bearing and Iago's charming conversation, and, for the first time, feels his black hatred for one extend its tendrils toward the other.

Even if it is hardly his place to feel this way.

He will sigh and look up again, his mouth pressed to a tight line. ]

Your father's treatment of you is despicable. [ He imagines Liem knows this, but Cardan wishes to say it clearly, anyway. Particularly as it's obvious that it cost Liem something to share this.

But he also doesn't get the impression that Liem wants to dwell. So: ]

...we should arrange for a trip to Fairfold.

[The silence stretches longer than Liem would like it to. He has to resist the urge to sip uncomfortably from his glass as he tries to read the expression on his husband’s face. Surely it is not usual or desirable in any court to find oneself living in the home of such a cruel and controlling man, one willing to use and humiliate even his own heir to suit his ends, but he doesn’t know what Cardan might think of the revelation. And not knowing makes him nervous.

But the tension in his shoulders does relax slightly when his husband finally replies. No, he is not keen to dwell on trials and humiliations from his past — but confessing them was not as awful as he might have feared.]

Yes. That will take some preparation, and I still have many things I would like to know about it first. But it can certainly be arranged.

[Although Liem’s education certainly included other regions aside from those in the immediate area, it never covered any Faerie courts. His current level of knowledge is wretchedly insufficient for any amount of educated decisionmaking; that is the first thing that needs to change.

Pensively, he does finally take a sip of his wine.]

I would also like to know what kind of man your brother is. You seemed very certain that that assassination attempt must have been his doing.

[ The question isn't unexpected, and -- though fraught -- not entirely unwelcome. Having forced Liem to share his fraught experiences, Cardan feels indebted to him, even if he would not take back his question about Iago. Rather, it is only fair that he returns the favour.

Besides: ]

It seems like Dain and your father are cut from the same cloth.

[ That's a blunt answer, but it's true.

He will elaborate. ]

Most courtiers are hungry for power, and my father's eldest children doubly so -- after all, the Blood Crown has ever been just out of their reach. But for all of Elowyn's grace and Balekin's cruelty, it is Dain's ambition that threatens to devour us all. It is a black, fathomless thing. He will stop at nothing and spare no one.

[ And unlike Liem, Cardan has no compunctions about sharing the details of Dain's crimes. It feels liberating to say the words because, for most of his life, it was useless to do so. No one had ever believed him, save for Balekin. ]

He has convinced our father that his other children are conspiring against him, all while poisoning his cup, so that he's too frail and weak to continue ruling. He has murdered his own son in the womb because his existence was a threat to his rule -- imagine the enormity of this crime for us, who may not sire a single child in an eternal lifetime.

[ His smile is exquisitely bitter. ]

Even knowing this, you would be charmed upon first meeting. His misdeeds will seem diminished; his methods roguish but excusable. After all, how could a man of so noble a bearing be so monstrous?

[Liem takes in Cardan's explanation soberly and without surprise. After all, he had seemed sure of his brother's willingness to not only send an assassin to kill him but to sacrifice her life to obtain a more useful pawn. The ploy would have been entirely in character for Liem's father as well, and he cannot doubt the comparison given their circumstances.

Still, it is not encouraging news. The idea of trying to go against his father on his own territory makes a shiver of dread snake down Liem's spine, and Cardan's reaction earlier made it clear that he thought the prospect of taking on Dain was tantamount to suicide. He would be lying if he said he wasn't intimidated.]

… He is beloved, then? Popular with the courts?

[A slight frown creases his brow as he considers the difficulty of finding allies — witting or not — to act against a prince with an unimpeachable reputation. Though surely every man in a position of power has his own share of enemies, regardless of his charm.]

Do your siblings know of his crimes also?

[It is not clear to him how Cardan has this knowledge, given how sensitive it obviously is. Or how he has been allowed to continue living with it, frankly.]

[ At this, at least, Cardan shakes his head. For better or worse, there is no such thing as a beloved ruler in a Faerie court. ]

The High Court is divided among the three. As for the lower courts -- they have their own issues, largely fostered by my father's neglect. But my father is convinced of his worth, and that is enough.

As for my siblings -- Balekin's spies are how I know of his misdeeds, which I suppose makes it likely Elowyn knows as well. My other sisters have little interest in politics.

[ A luxury that Cardan envies very much.

His gaze finds the little frown between Liem's brows. He cannot blame him -- none of this is good news. Regardless of how stubborn the man he married, Cardan cannot imagine this picture looks anything but dismal to him.

He leans back against the couch cushions, grateful for his foresight in tucking his tail under his clothes, even in casual dress. ]

...it is not too late to call off this venture. You had no reason to know what you were getting into.

[ Even though Cardan had told him, and Liem should have believed him the first time. Nonetheless.

He looks at his abandoned wine glass rather than at Liem and keeps his expression carefully mild. ]

[The past day has been short on anything that Liem would consider to be good tidings, so the news that Elfhame's courts are divided on the issue of the High King's heirs comes as close to a relief as he expects he'll be granted for the time being. The potential involvement of either of Cardan's other elder siblings is probably what is going to make this endeavour remotely possible, if anything is. Exactly what kind of involvement to pursue is what he intends to find out.

But his eyebrows let go of their crumpled frown, smoothing into a look of mild appraisal when Cardan glances down at his discarded glass.]

I'm grateful for your consideration, Cardan, but we've been over this.

[He knows already that his insistence on keeping Cardan close in the face of all this is foolish. If he is honest with himself, sentiment is substantially responsible for his decision, and for his stubbornness in keeping to it. Even if he felt the need to repay Dain in some way for attempting to bind him, he could do so with more patience without Cardan at his side, inviting troublesome attention.

It does not matter. If he is being led astray by sentiment, he will simply have to adjust his course and make the best of it. He is not going to relinquish his husband to the hands of one cruel prince who treats him as a pawn and another who wishes him dead.]

I will give up on my promise when you tell me that you wish to leave my side, and not before.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject