[The tension inhabiting Liem’s spine only pulls tighter as Cardan moves nearer, closing the space between them. Though he does his best to maintain his own dignity, he can feel shame colouring his cheeks with each word his husband speaks. In a strange way it reminds him of the night Cardan had revenged himself on him in the bath, except Cardan is not the one who has wounded him this time, and Liem has nowhere to go to escape, unless he wants to simply run off into the woods. But the feeling that his husband has seen his hurt too clearly is the same.
He cannot even deny what Cardan has said. He is here because he is hiding: from everyone, including his father, but especially from Cardan. As warm fingers brush his face, the look he aims at his husband might almost be betrayed.
What is he meant to say in the face of this? The caress against his cheek extinguishes his flash of defensiveness as quickly as it sprung alight, leaving only an awful, squirmy frustration at the prospect of being perceived so nakedly.]
I didn’t want you to see me like this. [He frowns, his gaze skittering away from Cardan’s as his fingers fuss restlessly with his cuff.] I’m fine. I just need some time to collect myself.
[ It stings: that unhappy, flushed stare, as if Cardan had knocked ink all over Liem's homework. He should know -- he had spent so much of his life finessing ways to torment others, to ruin their days and make them as miserable as he was. Perhaps he had simply grown too skilled at it, for his husband to look so haunted at his mere proximity.
A better man would have left Liem alone.
Cardan, being a bully, only sighs and slides his fingers into the short hair at Liem's nape, a gesture vaguely reminiscent of scruffing an obstinate puppy. His other finds its home at his husband's waist, pulling them infinitesimally closer together. It's not an embrace, not quite, but he figures it will make it awkward for Liem to try and escape, should he decide to be done with Cardan altogether. ]
I do not know what it is you think I'm seeing. [ Not a man who's fine, certainly. ] But I will close my eyes, if you so wish.
[ That's plainly not what Liem means, but since his husband has elected to stop making sense, Cardan does not feel beholden to it either. ]
[Liem submits reluctantly to the grasp of fingers in his hair, the deliberate hold of Cardan’s hand at his waist—touches that should be comforting, except for the prickle of shame beneath his skin, rolling through him as Cardan pulls them that slightest bit closer. Except for the part of him that resents being forced out into the open, like a snail pried out of its shell, even if it is by the man whose love he desires with such painful intensity.
Even if it would be far worse to not have Cardan come looking for him at all.
But because Cardan is here, and regarding him so deliberately, Liem releases his fidgety grasp of his cuff and rests his palms instead against his husband’s chest, looking him in the eye as though by focusing only on Cardan, he might ignore all the things that brought him here to begin with. His expression makes every effort to be steady, whether or not he feels ready to be.]
Now that you have sought me out, what do you intend to do?
[ Though Cardan's offer to shut his eyes had been earnest, he suspects it would be difficult to ignore his husband's uncharacteristically rigid response to being touched even then. But that's fine, so long as he's not pushing Cardan away. Cardan's fingers stroke through Liem's hair, draw tight little circles at the base of his skull -- an idle, gentle caress, except that nothing he is currently engaging in is idle. He wants to be soothing, want Liem to find distraction from whatever misery has him so tightly in its grasp.
The cool hands on his chest are progress, at least -- which is good, because Liem's question is surprisingly difficult to answer. He turns it over in his mind, trying to find some angle, some key to the puzzle. But everything he comes up with is bad: too demanding, too selfish, too likely to end up making his husband feel like he has to contort himself to Cardan's whims. It's funny, the way he feels like he never quite has the right words when it comes to Liem and Liem alone. Sometimes he wonders whether love has made him stupid, except he's never been this way with Nicasia. And so--
And so.
He does close his eyes, after all. He closes them, and then he draws both his hands forward, so that he can cradle Liem's face in his palms and press their foreheads together -- a gesture so familiar he doesn't need to see him at all. ]
Just this. For now.
[ He has so much practice navigating in the dark, now. It takes no guesswork at all to brush his mouth over Liem's brow -- a little off-center, but that's fine -- and then pull him into that embrace after all, tucking his head against Cardan's shoulder. And if his husband is stiff about it, well, Cardan has time; eventually even Liem will have to grow weary of his own anxious thoughts. ]
[Liem’s question doesn’t really have a right answer, and even when he asked it, he had been expecting to have to field a demand in return. Obviously Cardan followed him here with the intention of involving himself in some way in the fallout from his meeting with Iago. How, Liem doesn’t know, but it’s plain his husband refuses to remain ignorant and uninvolved. It had seemed easier to just ask Cardan what he wanted and resign himself to giving it, whatever that might end up being. In Liem’s personal life, that’s often the way of things.
He should have known better.
When has Cardan ever been satisfied with such a thing from him? When has he ever retreated from his husband without Cardan, eventually, pursuing him? Of course it was never petty concessions that he wanted.
The slide of warm hands framing his face does freeze Liem where he stands, leaving him rigid and uncertain as his husband, lover and companion dips near to rest their brows together. He doesn’t know what to do with the tenderness that moves in his chest as Cardan brushes a kiss over his forehead.
Nor does he know how to contend with it when Cardan pulls him closer, and he suddenly finds himself folded into his embrace. He still hates that his longing for comfort is so pathetically obvious—but Cardan is so warm, and his arms feel so safe, and he smells like the only home Liem has ever needed. Much as Liem wishes to pretend otherwise, he’s been yearning for this ever since he stepped out of his father’s rooms, defeated and miserable, and saw Cardan out in the hall.
He can do nothing, then, but tuck his face against the familiar crook of Cardan’s collar and wrap his arms tightly around him, so he can hold him like he never intends to let go. He can do nothing but give in to his want to forget, to indulge in the feeling of being held and for just a few moments, simply let himself be comforted by the man he loves more than anything.]
[ Liem tightens his arms around him in turn, holds him close like he's a little desperate... and, despite everything, Cardan's black little heart sings with triumph. It feels right; it feels like a key clicking into a lock -- one of many locks in store for him, maybe, but one he's opened all the same.
He turns his head to bury his nose against Liem's hair and breathe him in, smoothing his palm along the tense line of his back. He can't help being a little selfish about it. Despite Liem's obvious suffering, despite the thorny knot of problems yet left to untangle, Cardan will never not feel joy at having him -- here, nestled close to his chest, where he belongs. There is an uncomplicated happiness to touching Liem, real and solid and Cardan's, a gift he never expected and certainly doesn't deserve. But if the world is to be unfair, he is glad to see the scales tip in his favour, for once.
For a while, he stays just like that: perfectly content and still, except for the hand stroking Liem's back. Though he will, eventually, speak again, his murmur muffled against the side of Liem's head. ]
Do your wolves have names?
[ He's opened his eyes, in the interim, so that he may see the animals. His hold around Liem doesn't loosen; he doesn't intend for the question to end the interlude of their embrace, only shepherd it to happier pastures. ]
[It is astonishing how easily Liem’s mood can transform from distressed to quietly contented, simply because of the introduction of Cardan’s arms around him. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he still feels the rumblings of that same frustration from before, refusing to die completely even now, but at present it is easy enough to ignore—as long as Cardan keeps holding him like this.
Part of him still feels like he shouldn’t be letting this happen—that he shouldn’t be leaning so on Cardan’s willingness to take care of him. It would be best if he could straighten up from their hug completely rejuvenated, and reward his husband for jostling him out of his dour mood. But he is not resilient enough for that, and he won’t insult Cardan by trying to pretend otherwise. He stays nestled close, wrapped in Cardan’s arms and Cardan’s scent, and tries not to think of anything else at all.
He will think about his wolves, though, since Cardan has asked. Liem’s face is still tucked against Cardan’s chest, but he can hear the pack moving about, and knows full well that while one of the adults headed back towards the den, the two yearlings have returned and all four remaining wolves have now ambled back over to watch them embrace. Privacy is very much a foreign concept to them.]
Mm, I suppose. [he murmurs.] I’ve given names to most of them.
[Not that they use the ones he’s come up with—but he’s not going to call them Lead Male/Brother or Yearling-Daughter/Subordinate, which is the kind of mish-mash address they seem to use for each other. Maybe something gets lost in translation when they speak with him, though.]
The first to greet you was Half-moon. The smaller ones are Ash and Juniper. The brownish one is Echo. And, um. [He hesitates slightly.] The old, dark-coloured one is just Uncle.
[ He's not sure what he expected, aside from a safe topic for conversation, but he finds himself unexpectedly charmed by Liem's list. Half-moon must be so named because of his silver fur; Echo for her... voice? ]
They are good names, [ he will tell his husband, as if he's an authority on the subject -- he, who has never named anything or anyone. Then again, names do have particular power in Faerie. Perhaps that counts well enough. ] Fitting for wild things.
[ Well. He is not going to comment on Uncle, timid as Liem seems to be about it. Instead, he turns his head to brush his mouth over his husband's silver temple as he thinks about his next question. ]
They seemed to... recognize me.
[ Liem could not have known he was coming; he'd been surprised to see Cardan in the first place. And, despite Cardan's initial panic, he has to concede that the wolves' greeting was friendly, if overwhelming and rather more physical than he would have preferred. Even now, they seem far calmer than animals should be with a strange intruder in their midst. ]
[If Cardan is trying to distract Liem from the things that had brought them both out here to begin with, he is doing an admirable job. He is quite cozily occupied with his husband’s voice rumbling in his ear and his mouth brushing warm against his temple, and the topic of their conversation is as safe as one possibly could be. Would that he could converse with Cardan more frequently from the agreeable vantage of his embrace. He is finding himself increasingly lulled by the luxury of passing time thus as his husband plies him with questions about his wolves. Gradually, the tension bleeds from him and he simply sinks gratefully against Cardan’s chest.]
Of course. They know I am married.
[Liem isn’t surprised in the least by the wolves’ easy acclimation to Cardan’s presence. They are not ignorant, after all; he speaks of his husband often, when he sees them. And even if he didn’t, it would be obvious who Cardan is the moment they caught his scent.]
You smell like me. And frequently, when I come see them, I also smell like you.
[The wolves have had plenty of time to become curious about the owner of that strange Faerie smell. Though he notices, as he continues to snuggle against Cardan’s jacket, that his husband is distinctly glittery this evening—a trait he is now efficiently sharing with his spouse.]
Though I suppose right now you must also smell of moth.
[ It sounds strange -- the thought that Liem must have told the animals of his betrothal, that they would have understood it. What a strange conference that must have been, in the weeks before the wedding. And yet, do wolves not mate for life? Perhaps, then, it is Cardan who is the odd one out, with his idea of marriage as an impermanent, convenient thing.
Liem's further explanation nets him an amused huff of breath. ]
I should be grateful our other acquaintances aren't so perceptive. We'd never keep up the ruse of being at odds.
[ Even if he sounds pleased about it. He likes that Liem smells like him, that they smell like each other, the implicit ownership of it. Even if the only ones who notice are the wolves. ]
...they aren't going to try and take a bite out of it, will they? I'd rather not have to return on foot.
[ He can't imagine that a giant bug would taste particularly good, but he's also never known wild animals to have discriminating palates. ]
[Privately, Liem thinks that the other vampires they associate with must certainly have noticed the smell of Cardan’s blood on the both of them whenever Liem bites him. It would be difficult to remain ignorant of that at least, even if other scents don’t seem so obvious to a vampire’s senses. But the indulgence of a bite now and then does not have the same implication as two people constantly smelling like they’ve been getting their hands all over each other.
But Cardan’s question makes Liem lift his head, just enough to peer at the quartet of wolves lounging around them like a large, furry wreath. He notes that Echo seems to be missing; she must have been the one to leave earlier. Of the remainder, Half-moon pipes up helpfully, telling him, Moths are tasty.
Liem frowns.]
That one is not for eating, [he tells them.
This only seems to intrigue his audience; Juniper asks, astonished, It’s just one? But he’s covered!]
Don’t bother it, either. Leave it well alone.
[Is it really big? I want to see the big moth, adds Ash.
We will observe it from downwind, Half-moon says reasonably, as all of the animals except for Uncle begin clambering to their feet. It is in our territory, so we should know of it. Liem’s frown deepens to a scowl.]
Do not frighten it off.
[Off the wolves go, against his better judgment, leaving only the elderly male stretched out beside them like a lounging bear. Liem sighs.]
[ He observes the strange back-and-forth, bemused. Liem may have spoken to the wolves before, but they hadn't talked back -- and even though Cardan cannot interpret the other half of the conversation, it is obvious that there is one. If he had some inkling that the animals weren't quite regular (albeit large) wolves, this certainly makes it irrefutable.
Surprisingly, he finds it endears them to him, nevermind that his dignity still smarts from the thorough sniffing they'd inflicted. It's just: he rarely gets to see Liem so stern and yet so soundly overruled. His serious, eternally careful husband could use more friendly ribbing, and Cardan's labours alone cannot possibly suffice. Besides, he suspects that this is not the first time Liem has come to them for comfort -- he only hopes that they are more skilled at offering it than he himself has been.
The part of him that isn't jealous is a little grateful that Liem was not lonely all this time.
He glances down at the elder wolf, his mouth a little wry. ]
...and? Am I going to find my mother's pet in peril?
[ Well, obviously not. If he thought that, he would not be so complacent about it, and he assumes neither would Liem. At worst, the moth will leave and he'll have a tedious hike back ahead of him, but that's already not the worst thing that's happened this night.
Still, he would like to be sure. He may not like the giant creature, but even he cannot deny that he has responsibility for bringing it here. ]
[Liem leans his forehead against his spouse’s shoulder, briefly waving a dismissive hand, though his husband cannot possibly see it while it’s still behind his back. But the wolves would never harm any of Iago’s things, which is ultimately what Cardan and his moth are, for as long as they are part of his household.]
At worst, they might get over-curious and frighten it back home.
[Must be a sight when it flies, Uncle observes placidly. Probably the younger pack members will want to at least see it move.
This is why Liem had wanted them to stay away from it entirely, but ultimately the wolves are their own creatures, and he can’t be too surprised that they would insist on seeing the gigantic moth with their own eyes and noses.
Perhaps Cardan will have to walk home with him after all. Liem cannot say he has much disappointment for the prospect of avoiding another ride through the sky atop its giant, furry back.]
[ It is probably no credit to Cardan whatsoever that his concern for the moth's plight dissipates almost immediately -- exactly as soon as Liem's brow touches his shoulder, actually. He can't help it; he's too eager for his husband's trust, especially in the aftermath of their brief argument, and the arguments that no doubt still loom ahead. It's gratifying to see the tension in Liem's shoulders release, even if Cardan still couldn't call him relaxed. At least he's no longer acting like Cardan's presence is a threat.
He can't repress his satisfied little smile. Besides, now that his husband no longer holds on to him quite so desperately, Cardan can raise his hand to stroke Liem's hair, instead, helpfully depositing glitter there also. ]
Then I should be grateful you haven't ventured further out, I suppose.
[ He looks over at the outcropping that Liem -- and the wolves, before him -- had emerged from. ]
[If Liem had any inclination to follow the trio of wolves or otherwise fret about their interaction with the visiting moth, those nascent thoughts vanish as soon as Cardan’s fingers begin stroking through his hair. Lulled by the gentle touch, he leans contentedly into his husband’s embrace and decides that for now, at least, fitting himself cozily into his arms is by far the best use of his time.
But it is easy to relax like this when Cardan asks him such inconsequential things—especially about his wolves, whom he has had so little time thus far to introduce to his foreign spouse. Never previously has he enjoyed the company of both Cardan and his wolves at the same time; lingering here in the forest, content in their company, he is finding ample reason to let contentment sneak its way in between the gaps of his troubles.]
Ha… [He tucks a smile against Cardan’s collar, recalling the way the pack had all bounded off to investigate when they had caught a whiff of his approaching scent.] Quite near, yes.
[Now he turns his head so his voice isn’t so muffled by his husband’s jacket, peeking half up at him from the pillow of his shoulder, even as he continues to keep himself glued there.]
Would you like to see it? The den. [If Liem can convince himself to peel away from his husband and take him there, at least.] The pups are just big enough to come out now.
[ Cardan has never particularly cared about animals, young or otherwise, and so the innate charm of wolf pups eludes him. What he would like, then, is to stay here like this, coaxing smiles from his husband until they both forget that anything upsetting had happened at all. And then Cardan would like to kiss him, and forget everything else altogether.
Except this is not in the cards, both because he knows daylight will come for them eventually, and because he's going to have to ruin Liem's contentment again. So, yes, he does want Liem to lead him deeper into the forest, to the wolf den, so that he has less leeway to leave when Cardan starts asking pesky questions again.
Besides, Liem is so rarely excited to share with things about himself; Cardan must enjoy this while he can. ]
I am incapable, [ he will reply, regaining some of his customary smugness, ] of being anything less than nosy about your secret forest life, husband.
[When Cardan says it like that, secret forest life, Liem feels a small pang of guilt tug at his chest. It’s been most of a year now since they were married, and months since he started letting his husband into more of his life, piece by piece. It is no secret to Liem that Cardan is jealous of the time they get to spend together, and keenly aware of the parts of Liem’s life that he isn’t involved in. He hasn’t exactly made a secret of his possessive side.
And Liem has continued to be jealous of his own secret places, even so. For reasons just like this—so he might still find refuges away from his husband when he wants to be weak for a little while. Even though he knows Cardan detests being avoided.
It has been unfair of Liem to keep this place from him.]
Come, then.
[For a moment he just squeezes Cardan tight. Then, moving back, he reaches for his husband’s hand so he can lead him back the way he’d come. The old, dark-furred wolf gets back to his feet and leads the way, clambering past the outcropping of stone and disappearing into the trees.
They don’t have to go far. After only a minute or so, the slope leads them to another slab of rock, this one sheltering an opening leading beneath. In the clearing in front of the den, Uncle greets the missing Echo, and another dark, brown-and-black wolf who is quite evidently the breeding female. Four tiny, stubby little pups gambol around the space, squeaking and clambering unsteadily on the adults and each other.
The mother is quick to approach, shadowing her pups as the visitors attract their attention. Liem crouches down when they arrive, so the tiny animals can toddle over and snuffle at his hands, while the mother sniffs first Liem and then Cardan.]
This is Tempest, and these are her new pups. They were born around the time you got back from the Undersea.
[They are still almost impossibly small. Compared to the full-grown adults, the pups look like little brown cotton balls.]
Hello, Mistress Tempest, [ says Cardan -- the first time he'd addressed any of the wolves directly. He knows enough to be wary of a mother with her young, if nothing else -- besides, her name is surely another warning. He assumes she'd earned it.
He won't even complain about being sniffed, this time, offering her his open palms instead. The nervous urge to smile tugs at his mouth.
Once she's done inspecting him, he, too, will crouch -- no, sit, lanky and cross-legged, right there on the forest floor. It feels admittedly vulnerable, to place his throat so close to a wolf's jaws, but he has no illusions about his chances, standing or not.
He will not make any effort to lure the pups closer, though observing their approach of Liem has made another smile threaten to appear on his lips. There is something about it that's delightfully incongruous: these tiny, carefree creatures with their stumpy little tails and their uncertain steps... and his husband: all long, elegant lines even when he's rumpled and covered in glittery fur. ]
...they are very round, for such ferocious beasts.
[It is easy to see why Liem might decide to come here seeking refuge from the troubles plaguing other parts of his life. The tiny pups are too young to understand such things; they are still trying to figure out why Liem and his partner are so leggy and furless, unlike every other creature they have yet known. He cannot help but smile a small, fond smile as the pups put unsteady paws on him and try to peer up at his face.
Tempest, judging Cardan acceptable for now, simply stays near to observe the proceedings, cautiously tolerant of this new development.]
They won’t remain so for long.
[Liem watches as most of the pups crowding him take note of Cardan’s available lap and begin trundling toward him in a ragged band, perhaps dissatisfied with Liem’s cold hands and wintery smell. Only a single pup remains to squeak at him, still trying to scale his leg, so Liem carefully sits down as well so he can plop the pup down on his lap.
Still letting the pup explore his person and occupy his hands, he aims his gaze curiously at his husband. It is rare enough for him to see Cardan look particularly gentle while fully awake and clothed; he cannot help the foolish little flare of warmth that pulses in his chest when he sees the trio of pups trying to conquer Cardan’s lap like a rugged mountain top.]
Ash and Juniper were born just last year, but already they’re formidable. So I like to visit while the pups are still small, while I can.
[ Unlike Liem, Cardan makes no move to assist the small troop of wobbly wolflings, only raising his eyebrows in mild surprise at their determined approach. But, he supposes, they must be curious. He must smell especially strange, made of magic as he is -- and they have, evidently, met Liem before.
They are truly, tremendously small, with grubby little paws and the fearless focus of stupid children. And... warm, he realizes, when the first one triumphs, scrabbling up into his lap. It startles him; somehow, it feels like he hasn't touched anyone warm-blooded in some time.
He'll allow the small animal to poke its wet little nose against his hand, although only in return for tapping one long finger gently against the tip of said nose. Fair is fair. ]
That is difficult to imagine, [ he'll tell Liem, a little distractedly. There are three points of unsteady, warm, soft chaos happening both in and around his lap; he's not entirely sure what he's supposed to do with any of them. ]
And how terrible, to leave behind the carefree plumpness of one's youth. [ Well, they do seem happy, pursuing their own mysterious goals and their besiegement of his person. He glances over at Liem, noting the pup he'd scooped up. He suspects neither he nor his husband were ever allowed to be quite this fluffy and unburdened by expectation, not even in their early childhood. ]
[Liem observes with a soft expression as his husband’s lap is slowly, clumsily invaded by furry little animals. Visiting the wolves often does much to put him at ease, and on this particular occasion, with Cardan fielding their curiosity, he can’t help the little smile of endearment that creeps onto his face. Cardan seems uncommonly at a loss for what to do with the pups busily exploring his person, and Liem intends to enjoy his husband’s charming bemusement while it lasts.]
Not so. Children have plenty of cares: they are simply very small.
[As if to illustrate this, the pup in his lap, which is currently attempting to scale the front of his shirt to no real success, lets out a whimpering cry at the injustice of the trial it is facing. Looking down at the little creature, Liem leans back to better accommodate its efforts, tilting his face down so that when it scrambles a few steps up his body, he can lean in and touch noses with it. When he strokes its soft puppy fur, his hands seem almost to envelop it completely.]
[ He looks up at the plaintive sound from Liem's direction, momentarily distracted from his own tiny interlopers -- and blinks. For all that he's often been subject to Liem's tenderness, he's never seen him so with anyone else. It feels almost uncomfortably intimate, like watching something he wasn't meant to see.
He doesn't contradict Liem, though he doesn't particularly agree. Getting embroiled in an argument on childhood burdens is far from his intent, and they have other depressing topics yet to tackle.
...and yet, he hesitates. He doesn't want to do it yet -- Liem looks so peaceful, with the stubby-tailed pup in his hands, surrounded by the beauty of a spring night. It feels perverse to bring the house's disappointments here. And yet: would it not be even worse to do it back at the estate, which always feels so stifling and cave-like after a sojourn to the forest?
He has to look away to hide the way his mouth flattens at the thought. In fact, he twists away entirely, reaching behind himself and under his jacket, beneath the layer of his shirt... to pull out his own long tail. This, at least, feels like a relief -- for all that he is used to keeping it hidden, the cool air and freedom of movement feel lovely, and it's not like there is anyone here whom he cares about seeing the appendage.
He's stalling. It's cowardice, and he knows it. But if cowardice means watching Liem be happily occupied with his pets a while longer, then so be it: bravery was never his defining feature anyway. ]
[If Liem were inclined to please only himself, he would spend the rest of the night out here doing only this: being part of the pack, letting Tempest’s pups climb on him and forgetting every single care that had hounded him at home, as a man. He is not really like the wolves he visits, he knows, but immersing himself in their lives for a short while feels like the simplest thing in the world. He wishes he could indulge in it for longer.
After a moment, Cardan’s silence draws his eye. He looks over to see his husband fish his tail out from beneath his clothing, apparently unperturbed by the risk of it becoming a toy for curious wolflings. The sight reminds him a little of the last time Cardan had freed his tail while they were in the woods, back during the depths of winter, and the memory of that outing makes pleasure glow low in his chest.
Still, his husband’s quiet tightens a little knot of anxiety there, too. It is probably nothing—a lull that he can’t help but read into, even without cause. But even so, the urge to fill the silence wells up in him, regardless of his current occupation with he pup roaming his chest.]
[ The glance Cardan casts Liem’s way is half-lidded, nearly coy — or it would be, for anyone who hadn’t noticed the nervous tapping of his tail and the careful way he has relaxed his shoulders. Liem looks relaxed, happy even.
He hates the thing he’s about to do. He doesn’t know whether he hates himself or Iago more for it. ]
You told me, [ he starts, carefully, ] that I could ask after your troubles, Liem.
[ It’s arguable, given that Cardan had just fainted from blood depletion, that Liem’s concession had been made under duress. But so are most concessions — and he doesn’t think his husband expected to be called on this one, anyway. This is in his favour, he thinks; Liem is so much more dangerous when he’s prepared. ]
[To say that Liem didn’t expect this would be a lie. Cardan hunted him all the way into the forest, tracked him down to drag his interaction with his father out into the open, and even when Liem had tried to close the matter, he had known his husband was still dissatisfied with the result. He suspected, even then, that he would bring it up again.
He just hadn’t expected Cardan to do it this way. He has no defense for it when Cardan leads with you told me that I could ask, because he does remember saying it, and he cannot bring himself to go back on his word.
Even if he loathes the idea of laying bare his feelings about this, and he cannot imagine a scenario in which doing so doesn’t make him feel even more lowly than before.
For a long moment, he just returns Cardan’s look in silence.]
The infrastructure report for Fifiel, [he says crisply. The report on one of the estate’s outlying settlements, which he’d been devoting every spare moment to for the last two days. The report that the contractors had been nearly a full week late delivering the data for.] My father was dissatisfied at the news that it would be late. He thinks I… [His mouth twitches, tightens, and then his tone turns bitter—even mocking.] I haven’t been managing my time effectively.
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no subject
He cannot even deny what Cardan has said. He is here because he is hiding: from everyone, including his father, but especially from Cardan. As warm fingers brush his face, the look he aims at his husband might almost be betrayed.
What is he meant to say in the face of this? The caress against his cheek extinguishes his flash of defensiveness as quickly as it sprung alight, leaving only an awful, squirmy frustration at the prospect of being perceived so nakedly.]
I didn’t want you to see me like this. [He frowns, his gaze skittering away from Cardan’s as his fingers fuss restlessly with his cuff.] I’m fine. I just need some time to collect myself.
no subject
A better man would have left Liem alone.
Cardan, being a bully, only sighs and slides his fingers into the short hair at Liem's nape, a gesture vaguely reminiscent of scruffing an obstinate puppy. His other finds its home at his husband's waist, pulling them infinitesimally closer together. It's not an embrace, not quite, but he figures it will make it awkward for Liem to try and escape, should he decide to be done with Cardan altogether. ]
I do not know what it is you think I'm seeing. [ Not a man who's fine, certainly. ] But I will close my eyes, if you so wish.
[ That's plainly not what Liem means, but since his husband has elected to stop making sense, Cardan does not feel beholden to it either. ]
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Even if it would be far worse to not have Cardan come looking for him at all.
But because Cardan is here, and regarding him so deliberately, Liem releases his fidgety grasp of his cuff and rests his palms instead against his husband’s chest, looking him in the eye as though by focusing only on Cardan, he might ignore all the things that brought him here to begin with. His expression makes every effort to be steady, whether or not he feels ready to be.]
Now that you have sought me out, what do you intend to do?
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The cool hands on his chest are progress, at least -- which is good, because Liem's question is surprisingly difficult to answer. He turns it over in his mind, trying to find some angle, some key to the puzzle. But everything he comes up with is bad: too demanding, too selfish, too likely to end up making his husband feel like he has to contort himself to Cardan's whims. It's funny, the way he feels like he never quite has the right words when it comes to Liem and Liem alone. Sometimes he wonders whether love has made him stupid, except he's never been this way with Nicasia. And so--
And so.
He does close his eyes, after all. He closes them, and then he draws both his hands forward, so that he can cradle Liem's face in his palms and press their foreheads together -- a gesture so familiar he doesn't need to see him at all. ]
Just this. For now.
[ He has so much practice navigating in the dark, now. It takes no guesswork at all to brush his mouth over Liem's brow -- a little off-center, but that's fine -- and then pull him into that embrace after all, tucking his head against Cardan's shoulder. And if his husband is stiff about it, well, Cardan has time; eventually even Liem will have to grow weary of his own anxious thoughts. ]
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He should have known better.
When has Cardan ever been satisfied with such a thing from him? When has he ever retreated from his husband without Cardan, eventually, pursuing him? Of course it was never petty concessions that he wanted.
The slide of warm hands framing his face does freeze Liem where he stands, leaving him rigid and uncertain as his husband, lover and companion dips near to rest their brows together. He doesn’t know what to do with the tenderness that moves in his chest as Cardan brushes a kiss over his forehead.
Nor does he know how to contend with it when Cardan pulls him closer, and he suddenly finds himself folded into his embrace. He still hates that his longing for comfort is so pathetically obvious—but Cardan is so warm, and his arms feel so safe, and he smells like the only home Liem has ever needed. Much as Liem wishes to pretend otherwise, he’s been yearning for this ever since he stepped out of his father’s rooms, defeated and miserable, and saw Cardan out in the hall.
He can do nothing, then, but tuck his face against the familiar crook of Cardan’s collar and wrap his arms tightly around him, so he can hold him like he never intends to let go. He can do nothing but give in to his want to forget, to indulge in the feeling of being held and for just a few moments, simply let himself be comforted by the man he loves more than anything.]
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He turns his head to bury his nose against Liem's hair and breathe him in, smoothing his palm along the tense line of his back. He can't help being a little selfish about it. Despite Liem's obvious suffering, despite the thorny knot of problems yet left to untangle, Cardan will never not feel joy at having him -- here, nestled close to his chest, where he belongs. There is an uncomplicated happiness to touching Liem, real and solid and Cardan's, a gift he never expected and certainly doesn't deserve. But if the world is to be unfair, he is glad to see the scales tip in his favour, for once.
For a while, he stays just like that: perfectly content and still, except for the hand stroking Liem's back. Though he will, eventually, speak again, his murmur muffled against the side of Liem's head. ]
Do your wolves have names?
[ He's opened his eyes, in the interim, so that he may see the animals. His hold around Liem doesn't loosen; he doesn't intend for the question to end the interlude of their embrace, only shepherd it to happier pastures. ]
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Part of him still feels like he shouldn’t be letting this happen—that he shouldn’t be leaning so on Cardan’s willingness to take care of him. It would be best if he could straighten up from their hug completely rejuvenated, and reward his husband for jostling him out of his dour mood. But he is not resilient enough for that, and he won’t insult Cardan by trying to pretend otherwise. He stays nestled close, wrapped in Cardan’s arms and Cardan’s scent, and tries not to think of anything else at all.
He will think about his wolves, though, since Cardan has asked. Liem’s face is still tucked against Cardan’s chest, but he can hear the pack moving about, and knows full well that while one of the adults headed back towards the den, the two yearlings have returned and all four remaining wolves have now ambled back over to watch them embrace. Privacy is very much a foreign concept to them.]
Mm, I suppose. [he murmurs.] I’ve given names to most of them.
[Not that they use the ones he’s come up with—but he’s not going to call them Lead Male/Brother or Yearling-Daughter/Subordinate, which is the kind of mish-mash address they seem to use for each other. Maybe something gets lost in translation when they speak with him, though.]
The first to greet you was Half-moon. The smaller ones are Ash and Juniper. The brownish one is Echo. And, um. [He hesitates slightly.] The old, dark-coloured one is just Uncle.
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They are good names, [ he will tell his husband, as if he's an authority on the subject -- he, who has never named anything or anyone. Then again, names do have particular power in Faerie. Perhaps that counts well enough. ] Fitting for wild things.
[ Well. He is not going to comment on Uncle, timid as Liem seems to be about it. Instead, he turns his head to brush his mouth over his husband's silver temple as he thinks about his next question. ]
They seemed to... recognize me.
[ Liem could not have known he was coming; he'd been surprised to see Cardan in the first place. And, despite Cardan's initial panic, he has to concede that the wolves' greeting was friendly, if overwhelming and rather more physical than he would have preferred. Even now, they seem far calmer than animals should be with a strange intruder in their midst. ]
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Of course. They know I am married.
[Liem isn’t surprised in the least by the wolves’ easy acclimation to Cardan’s presence. They are not ignorant, after all; he speaks of his husband often, when he sees them. And even if he didn’t, it would be obvious who Cardan is the moment they caught his scent.]
You smell like me. And frequently, when I come see them, I also smell like you.
[The wolves have had plenty of time to become curious about the owner of that strange Faerie smell. Though he notices, as he continues to snuggle against Cardan’s jacket, that his husband is distinctly glittery this evening—a trait he is now efficiently sharing with his spouse.]
Though I suppose right now you must also smell of moth.
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Liem's further explanation nets him an amused huff of breath. ]
I should be grateful our other acquaintances aren't so perceptive. We'd never keep up the ruse of being at odds.
[ Even if he sounds pleased about it. He likes that Liem smells like him, that they smell like each other, the implicit ownership of it. Even if the only ones who notice are the wolves. ]
...they aren't going to try and take a bite out of it, will they? I'd rather not have to return on foot.
[ He can't imagine that a giant bug would taste particularly good, but he's also never known wild animals to have discriminating palates. ]
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But Cardan’s question makes Liem lift his head, just enough to peer at the quartet of wolves lounging around them like a large, furry wreath. He notes that Echo seems to be missing; she must have been the one to leave earlier. Of the remainder, Half-moon pipes up helpfully, telling him, Moths are tasty.
Liem frowns.]
That one is not for eating, [he tells them.
This only seems to intrigue his audience; Juniper asks, astonished, It’s just one? But he’s covered!]
Don’t bother it, either. Leave it well alone.
[Is it really big? I want to see the big moth, adds Ash.
We will observe it from downwind, Half-moon says reasonably, as all of the animals except for Uncle begin clambering to their feet. It is in our territory, so we should know of it. Liem’s frown deepens to a scowl.]
Do not frighten it off.
[Off the wolves go, against his better judgment, leaving only the elderly male stretched out beside them like a lounging bear. Liem sighs.]
Wonderful…
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Surprisingly, he finds it endears them to him, nevermind that his dignity still smarts from the thorough sniffing they'd inflicted. It's just: he rarely gets to see Liem so stern and yet so soundly overruled. His serious, eternally careful husband could use more friendly ribbing, and Cardan's labours alone cannot possibly suffice. Besides, he suspects that this is not the first time Liem has come to them for comfort -- he only hopes that they are more skilled at offering it than he himself has been.
The part of him that isn't jealous is a little grateful that Liem was not lonely all this time.
He glances down at the elder wolf, his mouth a little wry. ]
...and? Am I going to find my mother's pet in peril?
[ Well, obviously not. If he thought that, he would not be so complacent about it, and he assumes neither would Liem. At worst, the moth will leave and he'll have a tedious hike back ahead of him, but that's already not the worst thing that's happened this night.
Still, he would like to be sure. He may not like the giant creature, but even he cannot deny that he has responsibility for bringing it here. ]
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[Liem leans his forehead against his spouse’s shoulder, briefly waving a dismissive hand, though his husband cannot possibly see it while it’s still behind his back. But the wolves would never harm any of Iago’s things, which is ultimately what Cardan and his moth are, for as long as they are part of his household.]
At worst, they might get over-curious and frighten it back home.
[Must be a sight when it flies, Uncle observes placidly. Probably the younger pack members will want to at least see it move.
This is why Liem had wanted them to stay away from it entirely, but ultimately the wolves are their own creatures, and he can’t be too surprised that they would insist on seeing the gigantic moth with their own eyes and noses.
Perhaps Cardan will have to walk home with him after all. Liem cannot say he has much disappointment for the prospect of avoiding another ride through the sky atop its giant, furry back.]
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He can't repress his satisfied little smile. Besides, now that his husband no longer holds on to him quite so desperately, Cardan can raise his hand to stroke Liem's hair, instead, helpfully depositing glitter there also. ]
Then I should be grateful you haven't ventured further out, I suppose.
[ He looks over at the outcropping that Liem -- and the wolves, before him -- had emerged from. ]
I assume they den nearby?
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But it is easy to relax like this when Cardan asks him such inconsequential things—especially about his wolves, whom he has had so little time thus far to introduce to his foreign spouse. Never previously has he enjoyed the company of both Cardan and his wolves at the same time; lingering here in the forest, content in their company, he is finding ample reason to let contentment sneak its way in between the gaps of his troubles.]
Ha… [He tucks a smile against Cardan’s collar, recalling the way the pack had all bounded off to investigate when they had caught a whiff of his approaching scent.] Quite near, yes.
[Now he turns his head so his voice isn’t so muffled by his husband’s jacket, peeking half up at him from the pillow of his shoulder, even as he continues to keep himself glued there.]
Would you like to see it? The den. [If Liem can convince himself to peel away from his husband and take him there, at least.] The pups are just big enough to come out now.
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Except this is not in the cards, both because he knows daylight will come for them eventually, and because he's going to have to ruin Liem's contentment again. So, yes, he does want Liem to lead him deeper into the forest, to the wolf den, so that he has less leeway to leave when Cardan starts asking pesky questions again.
Besides, Liem is so rarely excited to share with things about himself; Cardan must enjoy this while he can. ]
I am incapable, [ he will reply, regaining some of his customary smugness, ] of being anything less than nosy about your secret forest life, husband.
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And Liem has continued to be jealous of his own secret places, even so. For reasons just like this—so he might still find refuges away from his husband when he wants to be weak for a little while. Even though he knows Cardan detests being avoided.
It has been unfair of Liem to keep this place from him.]
Come, then.
[For a moment he just squeezes Cardan tight. Then, moving back, he reaches for his husband’s hand so he can lead him back the way he’d come. The old, dark-furred wolf gets back to his feet and leads the way, clambering past the outcropping of stone and disappearing into the trees.
They don’t have to go far. After only a minute or so, the slope leads them to another slab of rock, this one sheltering an opening leading beneath. In the clearing in front of the den, Uncle greets the missing Echo, and another dark, brown-and-black wolf who is quite evidently the breeding female. Four tiny, stubby little pups gambol around the space, squeaking and clambering unsteadily on the adults and each other.
The mother is quick to approach, shadowing her pups as the visitors attract their attention. Liem crouches down when they arrive, so the tiny animals can toddle over and snuffle at his hands, while the mother sniffs first Liem and then Cardan.]
This is Tempest, and these are her new pups. They were born around the time you got back from the Undersea.
[They are still almost impossibly small. Compared to the full-grown adults, the pups look like little brown cotton balls.]
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He won't even complain about being sniffed, this time, offering her his open palms instead. The nervous urge to smile tugs at his mouth.
Once she's done inspecting him, he, too, will crouch -- no, sit, lanky and cross-legged, right there on the forest floor. It feels admittedly vulnerable, to place his throat so close to a wolf's jaws, but he has no illusions about his chances, standing or not.
He will not make any effort to lure the pups closer, though observing their approach of Liem has made another smile threaten to appear on his lips. There is something about it that's delightfully incongruous: these tiny, carefree creatures with their stumpy little tails and their uncertain steps... and his husband: all long, elegant lines even when he's rumpled and covered in glittery fur. ]
...they are very round, for such ferocious beasts.
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Tempest, judging Cardan acceptable for now, simply stays near to observe the proceedings, cautiously tolerant of this new development.]
They won’t remain so for long.
[Liem watches as most of the pups crowding him take note of Cardan’s available lap and begin trundling toward him in a ragged band, perhaps dissatisfied with Liem’s cold hands and wintery smell. Only a single pup remains to squeak at him, still trying to scale his leg, so Liem carefully sits down as well so he can plop the pup down on his lap.
Still letting the pup explore his person and occupy his hands, he aims his gaze curiously at his husband. It is rare enough for him to see Cardan look particularly gentle while fully awake and clothed; he cannot help the foolish little flare of warmth that pulses in his chest when he sees the trio of pups trying to conquer Cardan’s lap like a rugged mountain top.]
Ash and Juniper were born just last year, but already they’re formidable. So I like to visit while the pups are still small, while I can.
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They are truly, tremendously small, with grubby little paws and the fearless focus of stupid children. And... warm, he realizes, when the first one triumphs, scrabbling up into his lap. It startles him; somehow, it feels like he hasn't touched anyone warm-blooded in some time.
He'll allow the small animal to poke its wet little nose against his hand, although only in return for tapping one long finger gently against the tip of said nose. Fair is fair. ]
That is difficult to imagine, [ he'll tell Liem, a little distractedly. There are three points of unsteady, warm, soft chaos happening both in and around his lap; he's not entirely sure what he's supposed to do with any of them. ]
And how terrible, to leave behind the carefree plumpness of one's youth. [ Well, they do seem happy, pursuing their own mysterious goals and their besiegement of his person. He glances over at Liem, noting the pup he'd scooped up. He suspects neither he nor his husband were ever allowed to be quite this fluffy and unburdened by expectation, not even in their early childhood. ]
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Not so. Children have plenty of cares: they are simply very small.
[As if to illustrate this, the pup in his lap, which is currently attempting to scale the front of his shirt to no real success, lets out a whimpering cry at the injustice of the trial it is facing. Looking down at the little creature, Liem leans back to better accommodate its efforts, tilting his face down so that when it scrambles a few steps up his body, he can lean in and touch noses with it. When he strokes its soft puppy fur, his hands seem almost to envelop it completely.]
Hello to you too, little climber.
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He doesn't contradict Liem, though he doesn't particularly agree. Getting embroiled in an argument on childhood burdens is far from his intent, and they have other depressing topics yet to tackle.
...and yet, he hesitates. He doesn't want to do it yet -- Liem looks so peaceful, with the stubby-tailed pup in his hands, surrounded by the beauty of a spring night. It feels perverse to bring the house's disappointments here. And yet: would it not be even worse to do it back at the estate, which always feels so stifling and cave-like after a sojourn to the forest?
He has to look away to hide the way his mouth flattens at the thought. In fact, he twists away entirely, reaching behind himself and under his jacket, beneath the layer of his shirt... to pull out his own long tail. This, at least, feels like a relief -- for all that he is used to keeping it hidden, the cool air and freedom of movement feel lovely, and it's not like there is anyone here whom he cares about seeing the appendage.
He's stalling. It's cowardice, and he knows it. But if cowardice means watching Liem be happily occupied with his pets a while longer, then so be it: bravery was never his defining feature anyway. ]
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After a moment, Cardan’s silence draws his eye. He looks over to see his husband fish his tail out from beneath his clothing, apparently unperturbed by the risk of it becoming a toy for curious wolflings. The sight reminds him a little of the last time Cardan had freed his tail while they were in the woods, back during the depths of winter, and the memory of that outing makes pleasure glow low in his chest.
Still, his husband’s quiet tightens a little knot of anxiety there, too. It is probably nothing—a lull that he can’t help but read into, even without cause. But even so, the urge to fill the silence wells up in him, regardless of his current occupation with he pup roaming his chest.]
What is on your mind, husband?
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He hates the thing he’s about to do. He doesn’t know whether he hates himself or Iago more for it. ]
You told me, [ he starts, carefully, ] that I could ask after your troubles, Liem.
[ It’s arguable, given that Cardan had just fainted from blood depletion, that Liem’s concession had been made under duress. But so are most concessions — and he doesn’t think his husband expected to be called on this one, anyway. This is in his favour, he thinks; Liem is so much more dangerous when he’s prepared. ]
And so I am asking.
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He just hadn’t expected Cardan to do it this way. He has no defense for it when Cardan leads with you told me that I could ask, because he does remember saying it, and he cannot bring himself to go back on his word.
Even if he loathes the idea of laying bare his feelings about this, and he cannot imagine a scenario in which doing so doesn’t make him feel even more lowly than before.
For a long moment, he just returns Cardan’s look in silence.]
The infrastructure report for Fifiel, [he says crisply. The report on one of the estate’s outlying settlements, which he’d been devoting every spare moment to for the last two days. The report that the contractors had been nearly a full week late delivering the data for.] My father was dissatisfied at the news that it would be late. He thinks I… [His mouth twitches, tightens, and then his tone turns bitter—even mocking.] I haven’t been managing my time effectively.
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