[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.
[ He waits; it feels like he's waiting forever, perfectly still except for his tail and the tips of his fingers, which stroke idly over a pup's velvet-soft fluff. He doesn't realize he's doing it -- certainly he doesn't mean to pet any of the wolves. But he can't pet Liem, who is too far away and not looking particularly happy with him, anyway. And so.
Cardan had, admittedly, expected bullshit -- he'd been expecting (and experiencing) bullshit from the moment he'd stepped across the threshold to Iago's chambers. But the thing Liem actually tells him makes his eyebrows fly up so high that they nearly escape his face altogether.
For a few moments, it actually renders him a little speechless. He doesn't say the first thing that comes to mind, which is, once again, Bullshit. Something about Liem's tone arrests him. He's seen his husband upset, overwhelmed, betrayed, annoyed -- but Cardan isn't entirely certain he'd ever seen him this acridly scornful. ]
[Perhaps, if Liem is sufficiently compelling while painting Iago as the villain, Cardan will not question why Liem is out here in the forest, away from his father’s influence. Perhaps he could spin the tale so his reaction sounds reasonable, instead of embarrassing and childish. Cardan seems willing enough to assume that Iago must have wronged him, for him to have come here; he’d surely believe such a story.
Liem almost wishes he could lie, now—or at least embellish. He knows the truth alone will be underwhelming. But he knows he’s not going to, no matter how much he’s going to hate discussing his own inadequacies so nakedly. The idea of deceiving Cardan to avoid it repulses him.]
Oh, he always hates it when I try to squirrel out of things.
[Liem smiles, bitterly. Even trying to reschedule an obligation to his father often ends up being cast thus: as failing him in some way, and just trying to wriggle out of it. After all, if Liem had organized his nights properly, had kept on task, had properly utilized his time, he wouldn’t struggle to meet his deadlines, now would he?
It is just that usually, even when his father frustrates him, Liem is better at keeping his disappointment to himself. Now, the misery of a brief hour ago bubbles up in him again, pushing a grin onto his face like oil scum on water.]
He said that even if the data was late, I should have been able to catch up, with the amount of time I have. And I could hardly tell him everything else I’ve been doing with it! So.
[ The grin is alarming -- partially because that's new, too, and partially because there's something thoroughly unnatural in it, like he's speaking to an imposter wearing his husband's face. He wonders if this is what he looks like when he's feeling particularly bitter -- but no, probably not. For all that Liem seems miserable, Cardan doesn't think that his husband has the capacity for looking cruel.
He doesn't smile back. He doesn't show much of an expression at all, though his focus on Liem is unerring. ]
I don't think that's the thing that he hates.
[ He says, to the son of a man he's known for less than a year.
Nor will he elaborate, thank you very much. Instead, he considers Liem, and tries to ignore the guilt pooling heavily in his belly like sour wine. This is his fault. He is the one who takes all of Liem's time -- him and the impossible scheme he'd let them be drawn into.
But he doesn't have room to wallow now. That's what the daylight hours are for, when Liem is sleeping, nestled safely against his chest -- assuming his husband still wishes to be so after the conversation they're about to have.
He doesn't even note the pups taking notice of his tail. ]
When was the last time you've quarrelled like this?
[Even as he tells Cardan some of his woes, reveals more about the many ways in which his father might be unhappy with him, he feels the familiar wretched prickle of nerves blooming giddy in his stomach. All the irreverence he never seems able to summon with his father suddenly paints itself over him like eye-spots on a butterfly’s wings, false and gaily threatening, refusing the idea of comfort.]
Oh? He could certainly fool me.
[Cardan’s comment earns a raise of his brows. Liem’s father may find multiple things about him frustrating, but he is quite certain Iago does indeed dislike this, too. He is not entirely certain what Cardan is implying here.
The pup in his hands has unwittingly signed up for snuggle duty, fielding his restless stroking as his hands seek some output for his unhappy energy. Fortunately, the little creature seems oblivious to his anxiety, and has taken this opportunity to use his lap as a place to nap.]
But anyway, it’s not a regular occurrence. [He glances away, back at the other wolves lying around the clearing. Liem has grown skilled, over the years, at avoiding his father’s ire. Most often, he is easy enough to placate.] The last time was months ago, before your trip to the Undersea.
[ It seems that the more Liem's restlessness waxes, the more Cardan's wanes. Despite his husband's decidedly odd energies, despite the infuriating subject, despite the fact that he's almost certainly walking into a field full of spiked traps -- there is a strange, terrible calm spreading through him. He doesn't like this kind of certainty. It typically precedes his doing something awful.
The plump little wolf that had been in his own lap has scrambled off of it, ostensibly bored with Cardan's attentions. He folds his hands instead, making a conscious effort not to worry at his rings. ]
Would you-- ow. What...
[ The what is, of course, a pup: one who has used the distraction of adult business to pounce, ambitiously, onto the ever-twitchy tuft of Cardan's tail. This is probably justice: he, who has bitten many in his childhood, indeed deserves to suffer the assault of the pup's small but determined teeth.
This does not mean he's not going to glower and reach over to attempt removal of the wolf by its scruff. ]
[For Liem, who did not want to have this conversation at all, and who still wishes to be done with it, the periodic distraction provided by the local wolves is most welcome. Though his gaze had been turned toward the lounging forms of the nearby adults, wistfully recalling that he had been cuddled up with them only minutes earlier, Cardan’s startled exclamation draws his attention back to the pups ambling about their persons. The sight of one of them attacking his husband’s vulnerable tail makes a tiny smile tug at the corner of his mouth.]
They can be rambunctious, [he observes, as the pup in his own lap dozes on, completely dead to the world. Still, the pups are yet small and wobbly, tiny bundles of fluff with newly-emerged milk teeth; should Cardan visit them again in the fall, he might find their playfulness considerably more energetic, in addition to being better armed.
But he may wish to reconsider his impulse toward the pup assaulting his tail. Even as he reaches toward it, a brief snarl rumbles from the nearby Tempest, whose lips have peeled back to display very large, pointed teeth. Though she remains seated, her feelings about Cardan’s manners are clear.]
[ Cardan does not, in fact, reconsider his impulses -- if anything, Tempest seems to provoke a reaction so immediate it couldn't possibly have been anything but deeply seated instinct. He draws himself up and snarls back, ignoring Liem entirely, his own teeth bared if far less impressive.
Though he will only set the pup down, a ways away from his smarting tail. ]
They are impertinent, [ he growls, more to the wolf than to Liem. His eyes are still on her; his tail thumps against the ground like that of an irritated cat. It's not like she doesn't make him nervous -- she could, no doubt, kill him with very little effort -- but his pride ever supersedes his sense of self-preservation.
Besides, as far as he's concerned, he's doing her a service. ]
A fine quality, used judiciously. They should know to make the distinction.
[It’s probably preposterous for Liem to feel affection, of all things, at the sight of the pack’s lead female and his husband snarling at each other, but he can’t help it. The warm bloom of it startles him, abrupt and unexpected, at Cardan’s immediate response to Tempest’s admonishment. He can’t help but think that if he wasn’t already married to the man sitting in this clearing with him, he would now be bludgeoned with the insistent, hungry desire to correct the oversight.
It is just as well that Cardan is more focused on the wolf than on him. That just gives Liem free license to watch.
They’re not the only ones, he hears Tempest growl, but she only leans down to grab the wayward pup in her mouth, picking it up to disappear into the den with her over-playful offspring. Liem watches her depart with a smile, and glances again at Cardan as she re-emerges to retrieve another one of her children, presumably to collect them all for a feed and a nap.]
I should have introduced you earlier, [he decides.] I hadn’t guessed you’d charm even Tempest so readily.
[She didn’t even bowl him over or snap at his fingers for his cheek. Practically a warm welcome, by her standards.]
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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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Cardan had, admittedly, expected bullshit -- he'd been expecting (and experiencing) bullshit from the moment he'd stepped across the threshold to Iago's chambers. But the thing Liem actually tells him makes his eyebrows fly up so high that they nearly escape his face altogether.
For a few moments, it actually renders him a little speechless. He doesn't say the first thing that comes to mind, which is, once again, Bullshit. Something about Liem's tone arrests him. He's seen his husband upset, overwhelmed, betrayed, annoyed -- but Cardan isn't entirely certain he'd ever seen him this acridly scornful. ]
...he said this to you?
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Liem almost wishes he could lie, now—or at least embellish. He knows the truth alone will be underwhelming. But he knows he’s not going to, no matter how much he’s going to hate discussing his own inadequacies so nakedly. The idea of deceiving Cardan to avoid it repulses him.]
Oh, he always hates it when I try to squirrel out of things.
[Liem smiles, bitterly. Even trying to reschedule an obligation to his father often ends up being cast thus: as failing him in some way, and just trying to wriggle out of it. After all, if Liem had organized his nights properly, had kept on task, had properly utilized his time, he wouldn’t struggle to meet his deadlines, now would he?
It is just that usually, even when his father frustrates him, Liem is better at keeping his disappointment to himself. Now, the misery of a brief hour ago bubbles up in him again, pushing a grin onto his face like oil scum on water.]
He said that even if the data was late, I should have been able to catch up, with the amount of time I have. And I could hardly tell him everything else I’ve been doing with it! So.
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He doesn't smile back. He doesn't show much of an expression at all, though his focus on Liem is unerring. ]
I don't think that's the thing that he hates.
[ He says, to the son of a man he's known for less than a year.
Nor will he elaborate, thank you very much. Instead, he considers Liem, and tries to ignore the guilt pooling heavily in his belly like sour wine. This is his fault. He is the one who takes all of Liem's time -- him and the impossible scheme he'd let them be drawn into.
But he doesn't have room to wallow now. That's what the daylight hours are for, when Liem is sleeping, nestled safely against his chest -- assuming his husband still wishes to be so after the conversation they're about to have.
He doesn't even note the pups taking notice of his tail. ]
When was the last time you've quarrelled like this?
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Oh? He could certainly fool me.
[Cardan’s comment earns a raise of his brows. Liem’s father may find multiple things about him frustrating, but he is quite certain Iago does indeed dislike this, too. He is not entirely certain what Cardan is implying here.
The pup in his hands has unwittingly signed up for snuggle duty, fielding his restless stroking as his hands seek some output for his unhappy energy. Fortunately, the little creature seems oblivious to his anxiety, and has taken this opportunity to use his lap as a place to nap.]
But anyway, it’s not a regular occurrence. [He glances away, back at the other wolves lying around the clearing. Liem has grown skilled, over the years, at avoiding his father’s ire. Most often, he is easy enough to placate.] The last time was months ago, before your trip to the Undersea.
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The plump little wolf that had been in his own lap has scrambled off of it, ostensibly bored with Cardan's attentions. He folds his hands instead, making a conscious effort not to worry at his rings. ]
Would you-- ow. What...
[ The what is, of course, a pup: one who has used the distraction of adult business to pounce, ambitiously, onto the ever-twitchy tuft of Cardan's tail. This is probably justice: he, who has bitten many in his childhood, indeed deserves to suffer the assault of the pup's small but determined teeth.
This does not mean he's not going to glower and reach over to attempt removal of the wolf by its scruff. ]
Cease that, you little--
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They can be rambunctious, [he observes, as the pup in his own lap dozes on, completely dead to the world. Still, the pups are yet small and wobbly, tiny bundles of fluff with newly-emerged milk teeth; should Cardan visit them again in the fall, he might find their playfulness considerably more energetic, in addition to being better armed.
But he may wish to reconsider his impulse toward the pup assaulting his tail. Even as he reaches toward it, a brief snarl rumbles from the nearby Tempest, whose lips have peeled back to display very large, pointed teeth. Though she remains seated, her feelings about Cardan’s manners are clear.]
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Though he will only set the pup down, a ways away from his smarting tail. ]
They are impertinent, [ he growls, more to the wolf than to Liem. His eyes are still on her; his tail thumps against the ground like that of an irritated cat. It's not like she doesn't make him nervous -- she could, no doubt, kill him with very little effort -- but his pride ever supersedes his sense of self-preservation.
Besides, as far as he's concerned, he's doing her a service. ]
A fine quality, used judiciously. They should know to make the distinction.
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It is just as well that Cardan is more focused on the wolf than on him. That just gives Liem free license to watch.
They’re not the only ones, he hears Tempest growl, but she only leans down to grab the wayward pup in her mouth, picking it up to disappear into the den with her over-playful offspring. Liem watches her depart with a smile, and glances again at Cardan as she re-emerges to retrieve another one of her children, presumably to collect them all for a feed and a nap.]
I should have introduced you earlier, [he decides.] I hadn’t guessed you’d charm even Tempest so readily.
[She didn’t even bowl him over or snap at his fingers for his cheek. Practically a warm welcome, by her standards.]
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